Trusting His Promise (Love on Sanctuary Shores #5)

Chapter 14

Beckett fidgeted in the pew as Pastor Olsen delivered the week’s announcements. His gaze went once again to the row where Jo and Sam usually sat—their seats conspicuously empty today. He’d nearly gone crazy with distraction the past few days, wondering how they were doing. He’d caught snatches of rumors that claimed everything from Mr. Fletcher had broken his leg to he had broken his neck.

If he’d had Jo’s number, Beckett would have texted, but he’d never thought to ask for it—and even if he had, she probably would have pulled his phone out of his hand and chucked it into the lake.

So he was going to have to do the next best thing and ask her friend. He only wished Lisa wasn’t sitting right next to Alex Gibbons. Not that he was afraid of the police officer—though Alex had definitely grown since their high school days—but given that Alex was as much a fan of him as Jo was, the other man was unlikely to be forthcoming with information.

Still, Beckett was desperate enough to risk it. The moment Pastor Olsen dismissed the congregation, Beckett sprang from his seat and slid into Lisa’s pew, plopping down next to her.

The dark-haired woman turned to him with a surprised smile. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” Beckett nodded. “Lisa, right?”

“The one and only.” She laughed, but from her other side, Alex turned a glowering look his way.

“I was just wondering, have you heard how Jo’s dad is doing?” Beckett asked before Alex could cut him off.

“He’s doing okay,” Lisa answered with a smile that said she approved of the question, even if Alex’s continuous scowl said he did not. “He has a broken back,” Lisa continued, and Beckett inhaled sharply.

She rested a hand on his arm. “He’s not paralyzed. He’ll just need to wear a back brace for a while. He also has a concussion and pneumonia. He’s been in the hospital on the mainland for the past few days, but he’s coming home today. That’s where Jo is right now,” she added, as if she knew Beckett was wondering.

“That’s good. Does she—do they—need anything?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’m sure—” Lisa started, but Alex cut her off.

“She has plenty of friends to make sure they’re taken care of.” He got up and filed out of the pew, stalking down the aisle.

“Don’t worry about him,” Lisa said quietly. “He’s always cranky after a night on patrol. Needs his beauty sleep.”

Beckett forced himself to laugh along, though he knew Alex’s attitude had nothing to do with lack of sleep.

And the worst part was, his attitude toward Beckett was deserved. Alex had always stood up for Jo, which had made him a target for Beckett too, albeit to a lesser degree.

“Anyway,” Lisa said, “I was going to send a meal over for Jo and her family. Maybe you want to deliver it for me?”

Beckett eyed her. That was definitely a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” Beckett didn’t wait for an answer before rushing on. “Is Sam’s— I mean, does Jo— I mean, is she—”

“Single?” Lisa asked, grinning.

Beckett blew out a breath and nodded, grateful for the rescue—if embarrassed that he needed it.

“She is single, yes,” Lisa answered. “So, you’ll be my delivery boy?”

Beckett just barely managed to keep a neutral expression as he answered. “Sure.”

“Good.” Lisa stood. “Why don’t you all come by the restaurant for lunch, and I’ll send you on your way with Jo’s food.”

“I think Andre could be talked into that.”

They moved to join the cast and crew, who had been milling at the back of the church, many of them chatting with the locals.

“Hey, do you guys want to—” Lisa started.

“If it involves food, then the answer is yes,” Andre answered. “I’m starving.”

They all filed out of the church, and Beckett fell into step with Lisa behind Sadie and Maggie.

“It’s so beautiful out today,” Sadie said over her shoulder. “Actually, it’s been beautiful every day.” She squinted at Beckett. “I thought you said the weather was crummy.”

“Helping us drum up tourism, I see,” Lisa teased. She turned to Sadie. “The truth is, this is unusually nice weather for this time of year. But fall is coming. You’re going to be astounded by the colors.”

“When will it snow?” Sadie asked.

“Not until after we leave,” Beckett answered, the thought of leaving the island giving him a slight pang for the first time ever—though he couldn’t explain why.

They reached the giant rainbow trout statue outside of Fresh Catch, and some of the cast paused to snap pictures of themselves.

“Thanks for what you did the other day,” Lisa said in a low voice as they watched the others. “Taking care of the fish for Jo, I mean.”

Beckett glanced at her in surprise. “Of course. I would have done more if I could have.”

“I know.”

Beckett studied her for a moment. “How much do you know?”

“About you and Jo?” Lisa shrugged. “Just that she refuses to watch your movies.”

Beckett nodded. That wasn’t a surprise.

“From what I gather,” Lisa continued, “the two of you never got along.”

“Completely my fault,” Beckett filled in, his mind jumping to the way that horrible Henry had treated Sam the other day. He hated that he had been that kid once.

“Listen.” Lisa patted his arm. “Jo may not be willing to admit it, but she’s softening to you. The other day when she was telling me about how you cleaned the fish, she didn’t grimace once.” Lisa’s eyes twinkled, and her mouth twitched.

Beckett laughed loudly enough that he attracted the stares of several passersby.

“Well,” he said to Lisa. “That’s high praise indeed.”

She grinned. “Come on. Let’s go get you guys some lunch and then you can go over to Jo’s and see for yourself.”

He followed her into the restaurant, telling himself that his day had not improved by one hundred percent at the prospect of seeing Jo not-grimace at him.

“How’s that?” Jo readjusted the pillows behind Dad on the couch, but still he didn’t look comfortable.

“I’m fine,” Dad said—it was all he seemed to say lately. “Stop fussing.”

“I’m not fussing,” Jo retorted. “I’m following the doctor’s orders. You know he said you need to rest, so if you need anything, you tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Or me,” Sam piped.

“Yes. Or Sam.” Jo nodded. “Now how about some lunch?”

“I think you should call Alex and see if he can do that charter with you on Tuesday.”

Jo rolled her eyes. They’d already had this discussion on the flight home only an hour ago.

She sought for every ounce of patience she still possessed after four days of traveling back and forth between the island and the mainland. “I told you I can handle it myself.”

“Not this group,” Dad insisted. “They’re not the kind of guys I want my daughter alone on the lake with.”

“Dad.” Jo rubbed her forehead wearily. “I’m a grown woman.”

“And they’re grown men,” he retorted, raising his eyebrows. “Though you’d never know it by the way they act. Alex would keep them in line.”

“Alex has to work. And anyway, you know he gets seasick.”

“All right, then.” Dad tried to shift his position but groaned in pain.

Jo moved to help him.

“What about Nate Hawthorn?”

“He has to run the activities center,” Jo volleyed back. “And before you suggest it, Taylor Everest has his carriage route, Tom Fuller has his students, and Colton Brunswick has the medical center. Anyone else?” She glared.

Dad frowned. “Good to know you haven’t outgrown sassing your old man.” He looked to Sam. “Can you believe the way she talks to your injured Opa?”

Sam giggled but shook her head.

Dad grunted as he shifted again. “It’s impossible to get comfortable in this thing,” he grumbled. “I guess we’ll have to cancel the charter then.”

Jo stared at him. Cancel the charter? When they had just racked up thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of dollars in medical bills?

“Dad, we can’t—”

The doorbell cut into her argument, and the three of them looked at each other.

“I’ll get it,” Sam offered eagerly.

But Jo caught her daughter's shoulder. “I’ll get it.”

The last time Sam had gotten the door, Jo had walked downstairs to find Beckett Knox sitting in her kitchen.

Not that there was any reason this would be Beckett—but still, better safe than sorry.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Dad couldn’t reach his phone. She didn’t need him calling to cancel the charter while she was out of the room. Then she headed for the front door, Sam trotting along beside her.

“It’s Mr. Beckett,” Sam squealed as soon as they were close enough to see out the front window.

Jo could only nod. Her heart was knocking too hard to allow any words to escape. Now what did he want?

She tried to work up some of her usual anger, but the truth was, she’d been finding it more and more difficult to be angry when she thought of him—not that she thought of him often.

As little as possible, actually.

“Can I open the door, Mommy?” Sam already had her hand on the knob.

“I guess so,” Jo choked out, fighting like mad to resist the need to smooth her hair.

She failed—which meant that Beckett’s first view was of her dragging her fingers through her hair. She dropped her hand to her side, clutching the pocket of her jeans so she wouldn’t do it again.

“Special delivery.” Beckett’s warm smile went first to Sam, then to Jo, and he held up a bag with the Fresh Catch logo. “Lisa sent this.”

“And since when are you the delivery boy for Fresh Catch?” Before she’d even finished the sentence, Jo scolded herself. Beckett may still be Beckett, but he deserved a better greeting than that after the way he’d come to her rescue the other day.

He seemed unruffled. “Since the delivery was to your place and I wanted to see how your dad was doing.”

“Oh. He’s uh—” Jo was still caught on the first part of his answer, which had felt way too . . . friendly. “He’s doing fine.” She shook her head. Now she sounded like Dad.

“I heard he has a broken back and a concussion. And pneumonia.”

Jo didn’t bother asking where he had heard it. She imagined the news was all over town by now.

“The pneumonia is almost entirely better, and the concussion too,” she said.

“And his back?” Beckett looked genuinely concerned.

“He has to wear a brace for a few months, but the doctor doesn’t think he’ll need surgery.”

“That’s a relief.” Beckett stood silent for a moment, as if unsure what to do next.

Jo wasn’t quite sure how to ask him to hand over the bag of food and leave, so she just stood there too.

“Are you going to eat with us, Mr. Beckett?” Sam asked, startling Jo.

Beckett seemed to shake himself out of a thought. “I would love to—”

Jo’s stomach flopped like a trout that didn’t want to be reeled in.

“But I already ate,” Beckett continued.

Jo waited for her stomach to return to normal, but it didn’t seem interested.

“Anyway, here you go.” He held the bag out to Jo, and she reached for it. Their fingers got tangled in the handle, and this time it was Jo who inhaled loudly. She could only hope he would chalk it up to the sound of the wind too.

“Thank you.” Jo held up the bag. “For this and for . . . your help the other day.”

“You’re welcome,” Beckett said simply. “I hope—”

“Is that Alex?” Dad’s voice boomed from the other room.

“At least his lungs are doing better,” Jo muttered.

Beckett laughed and called, “It’s Beckett Knox, sir. I was just dropping off some lunch from Lisa for you all.”

“Come in here a minute, son,” Dad called.

Jo wheeled toward the living room and gaped, even though she couldn’t see Dad from here. What could he possibly want with Beckett? And what on earth had possessed him to call someone son for the first time in his life?

“Come on, Mr. Beckett.”

Jo turned back to the door to see Sam pulling Beckett into the house.

He shot her a look as if to ask what was going on. But she could only shrug and follow him and Sam into the living room.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Fletcher?” Beckett asked as he entered the room.

“I’m fine.” Dad waved off the question though the movement made him wince. “Jo told me you did a bang-up job cleaning our fish the other day.”

“Oh.” Beckett’s gaze zipped to Jo, and she felt all of the blood rush to her face at the sparkle in his eyes. “She said that, did she?”

“I said you didn’t mangle them,” Jo clarified.

“You fish much?” Dad asked Beckett.

Beckett shrugged. “Not so much anymore. But as a kid, yeah.”

“It’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget how.”

“True.” Beckett nodded.

But Jo’s insides went cold. She saw suddenly where this was going.

“Beckett just stopped by to deliver lunch from Lisa.” Jo held up the bag as if it were an exhibit in a court case. “So he probably needs to—”

“You free on Tuesday?” Dad asked Beckett.

“Dad.” Jo was not going to let him do this. “Beckett is busy. He’s shooting a movie.”

Beckett’s eyes went from Jo to Dad. “I could rearrange some things. Why? What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Jo said, holding up the bag again. “Thanks for—”

“Would you be willing to help with a fishing charter?” Dad asked Beckett as if she weren’t there. “The crowd’s a little . . . rougher than I’m willing to send Jo out with alone.”

“Dad,” Jo huffed, “I already told you I’ll be—”

“Sure,” Beckett interrupted. “I’d be happy to.”

“No.” Jo’s voice was overly loud, but she didn’t care. “I don’t need help, and we can’t afford to pay you anyway.”

“Jo,” Dad warned.

“You don’t need to pay me.” Beckett smiled. “It sounds like fun. I’ve been meaning to schedule a charter with you myself, so this is perfect.”

Jo crossed her arms and glared at both men. This was not perfect. It was about as far from perfect as things could get.

“What do you say, Jo? Deal? Or do I call to cancel?” Dad reached for his phone, groaning when he couldn’t reach it. Sam passed it to him, and Jo clenched her teeth.

“Fine,” she spat out. “Be there at five.”

“A.M.?” Beckett asked.

Jo smirked at the horror in his voice. “A.M.”

“I’ll be there.” Beckett nodded to Dad. “Promise.”

Jo ducked her head. She didn’t put much stock in his promises—so there was still plenty of reason to hope that he wouldn’t show up.

“I’ll let you enjoy your lunch,” Beckett added after a moment. “See you Tuesday, Jo. I’ll be praying for your recovery, Mr. Fletcher.” He held out a fist to Sam, who eagerly bumped her knuckles against it. “Great job in that video the other day. I’ll make sure Andre sends it to your mom.”

He waved and disappeared from the room.

The moment she heard the front door click shut, Jo whirled on Dad. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“ You’re the one who didn’t want to cancel.”

“That doesn’t mean—” She shook her head. “Beckett Knox, Dad? Of all people?”

Dad eyed her. “He’s a Christian now, I hear?”

Jo shrugged. So he said.

“Never dismiss the power of Christ to change hearts. Besides—” Dad nodded to the bag in Jo’s hand. “Anyone who brings us food can’t be all bad.”

Jo hmphed . Great. Even Dad had fallen for Beckett’s act.

Which only meant she would have to be more on guard not to.