Kitabı oku: «The Promise of Home»
A homecoming to remember
As temporary guardian of her sister’s two children, big-city magazine columnist Jenna Gardner is forced to face her past. She isn’t in Mirror Lake for long before she realizes that everything has changed. And it’s not her past throwing her off-kilter now—it’s handsome next-door neighbor, Dev McGuire. Though Dev gets under her skin, he quickly proves himself an excellent father figure for the children. Soon he’s encouraging Jenna to believe in second chances. But it’ll take a leap of faith to believe that her future just might be in Mirror Lake after all.
Jenna’s heart skipped a scheduled beat as a pair of amber eyes locked on her.
At some point in the past twelve hours, a startling transformation had occurred. The heavy growth of stubble that had shadowed Dev’s face had been removed, enhancing the clean lines of his chiseled features.
In faded jeans and a dark green T-shirt that accentuated broad shoulders and muscular arms, Dev looked like a man totally at ease in his surroundings.
And way too attractive for her peace of mind.
Jenna stopped.
“Do you need some help?”
He’d noticed the heel of her shoe stuck in the sand.
“I’m—”
“Fine,” Dev interrupted. “I think you made that clear yesterday. But at the moment it looks like you’re…stuck.”
A large hand curved around her ankle. The unexpected touch caught Jenna off guard. And sent an equally unexpected jolt of electricity running through her.
“If you’re going to stick around for a while, you should think about getting something a little more…” With another small tug, Dev set her free. “Practical.”
KATHRYN SPRINGER
is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper” family, she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter and hasn’t stopped writing since! She loves to write inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.
A Promise of Home
Kathryn Springer
MILLS & BOON
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The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they display knowledge.
There is no speech or language
where their voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
—Psalms 19:1–4
To my editor, Emily Rodmell,
for your attention to detail and commitment
to excellence (and also for smiley faces
in the margins during the revision process).
It is a blessing to work with you!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
“Please follow the highlighted route—”
Jenna Gardner tapped the tiny screen on the GPS and silenced the voice of her invisible navigator once and for all. Not only because the high-tech gadget seemed to be as confused as she was by the tangled skein of roads winding around Mirror Lake, but because Jenna was tempted to take its advice.
She wanted to follow the highlighted route right back to her condo in the Twin Cities.
“You passed it, Aunt Jenna!”
A panicked cry reminded her that going home wasn’t an option. Not for awhile, anyway.
Jenna glanced in the rearview mirror. Once again, she experienced a jolt at the sight of the two children in the backseat.
Silver blond hair. Delicate features. Wide blue eyes.
Jenna had met Logan and Tori for the first time only three days ago. The children were practically strangers.
Strangers who were the mirror image of her younger sister, Shelly, as a child.
For a split second, Tori met Jenna’s gaze. Then she buried her face in the tattered scrap of pink flannel that doubled as a blanket.
Jenna pressed her lips together to prevent a sigh from escaping.
One step forward, two steps back, she reminded herself. The five-year-old girl was adjusting to the idea of having an aunt the same way Jenna was getting used to the idea of having a niece and nephew.
“You have to turn around,” Logan insisted.
“Are you sure?” Jenna tipped her Ray-Bans down and tried to peer through the hedge of wild sumac that bordered the road. “I don’t see anything.”
“Uh-huh. It’s back there.” Logan, the self-appointed spokesman for the two siblings, nodded vigorously.
Under the circumstances, Jenna was willing to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. She put the car in reverse and began to inch backwards.
In Minneapolis, a dozen horns would have instantly chastised her for the move. But here in the north woods of Wisconsin, the only complaint Jenna heard came from a squirrel perched on a branch near the side of the road. More than likely voicing its opinion on her presence rather than her driving skills.
She spotted a wide dirt path that could have been—if a person possessed a vivid imagination—a driveway.
Pulling in a deep breath, Jenna gave the steering wheel a comforting pat as she turned off the road. Her back teeth rattled in time with the suspension as the vehicle bumped its way through the potholes.
Logan leaned forward and pointed to something up ahead. “There it is.”
Well, that explained why Jenna had driven right past it.
She’d been looking for a house.
The weathered structure crouched in the shadow of a stately white pine looked more like a shed. Jenna’s gaze shifted from the rusty skeleton of an old lawn mower to the faded sheets tacked up in the windows.
Oh, Shelly.
Why hadn’t her younger sister admitted that she needed help? Why hadn’t she accepted Jenna’s offer to move in with her after Logan was born?
Throughout her pregnancy, Shelly had claimed that she and her musician boyfriend, Vance, planned to marry before the baby arrived. But when Jenna had visited her eighteen-year-old sister in the maternity wing of a Madison hospital, there hadn’t been a ring on Shelly’s finger. Not only that, she’d been alone. Faced with a choice, Vance had decided that a gig at a club in Dubuque was more important than being present for the birth of his child.
Shelly had made excuses for him—the same way their mother had made excuses for their father every time he’d walked out the door.
While Jenna was pleading with Shelly to return to Minneapolis with her, Vance had sauntered into the room. The guy might have been a mediocre guitar player, but his acting skills were nothing short of amazing. He’d apologized to Shelly for not being there and promised that she and the baby could travel with the band as their “good luck charms.”
When Jenna had asked her sister if she was willing to sentence her child to the nomadic lifestyle they’d experienced while growing up, Vance had turned on her. Accused her of being a troublemaker. He’d convinced Shelly that Jenna was jealous of their relationship and didn’t want them to be happy.
The stars in Shelly’s eyes had blinded her to the truth. She had embraced Vance—and turned her back on her only sister.
Jenna hadn’t seen or heard from her again. Had no idea where Shelly was or even how she and Logan were doing.
Until last week.
She’d been sitting at her desk, sipping an iced vanilla latte and working on her next column for Twin City Trends, when she received a telephone call from a social worker named Grace Eversea.
It didn’t matter how gently the young woman had tried to break the news, each piece of information had punctured a hole in Jenna’s heart.
A house fire. Shelly in a rehab center for prescription drug abuse. Seven-year-old Logan and Tori, the niece Jenna hadn’t even known existed, in temporary foster care.
As the children’s closest relative, Jenna had been asked if she would be willing to help. She could think of a dozen reasons why she shouldn’t get involved and only two—very small—reasons why she should.
Forty-eight hours later, after being granted a temporary leave of absence from the magazine, Jenna had packed her bags and driven to Mirror Lake, a small town where people knew each other’s name and each other’s business.
The kind of place she had deliberately avoided for the past ten years.
Her plan had been to take her niece and nephew back to Minnesota. But when Jenna met with Grace Eversea, the social worker had explained it would be in Logan and Tori’s best interest to remain in familiar surroundings for the time being.
Jenna could see the wisdom in Grace’s suggestion—especially after learning that Tori and Logan had run away when they’d heard that she was on her way to Mirror Lake to meet them.
Jenna and the children had already spent several days at the Mirror Lake Lodge at the invitation of Abby and Quinn O’Halloran, the couple who owned the charming bed-and-breakfast, but she didn’t want to impose on the newlyweds’ hospitality any longer than necessary.
Until Shelly returned, Jenna decided that her only option was to move into the cabin where the family had been living before the fire. She’d been assured there had been only minimal damage to the interior and the local fire chief had pronounced the structure safe and sound.
But now, looking at the place her niece and nephew had called home, Jenna wasn’t sure she agreed with either description.
“Are we getting out, Aunt Jenna?” Logan ventured.
Jenna realized she hadn’t moved.
“Of course we are.” Forcing a smile, she slid out of the driver’s seat and went around to open Tori’s door. “You’re first, Button.”
A corner of the blanket dropped, unveiling a pair of periwinkle eyes that stared back at her with guarded apprehension.
Jenna recognized the look of someone who no longer trusted easily, and her heart wrenched. Within the space of a few weeks the little girl had been separated from her mother and then from Kate Nichols, the foster care mother she’d become attached to, before being placed in Jenna’s care.
“It’s okay, Tori.” Logan patted his sister’s hand and the sweetness of the gesture pierced Jenna’s soul.
How many times had she comforted Shelly when they were growing up? Protected her from danger—both imaginary and real?
Jenna mentally pushed the thought away. Her life was different now. She was different now.
She reached for the buckle on the booster seat but Tori shrank back.
“Don’t wanna get out!”
Jenna hesitated, wondering if the little girl was remembering the night of the fire. Once again, the reality of what she’d agreed to flooded through her, eroding her confidence. She wasn’t a child psychologist. She wasn’t even the type of person that small children flocked to.
When it came right down to it, Jenna knew she was everything that two traumatized children didn’t need.
But right now, she was all they had.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Jenna summoned the bright, confident smile that had taken her from proofreader to Twin City Trend’s most popular columnist.
Tori leaned over and whispered something in her brother’s ear.
“She’s afraid of wolves.” To his credit, Logan didn’t laugh.
Jenna bent down and looked her niece in the eye. “You don’t have to worry about wolves, sweetheart. They stay away from people.”
Tori’s gaze fixed on something over Jenna’s shoulder. “Even that one?”
That one?
Jenna whirled around and felt her knees buckle.
An enormous animal, its shaggy coat a mottled patchwork of grays and browns, was slinking down the shoreline.
Keep going, keep going.
Almost as if it had heard Jenna’s silent plea, the creature paused for a moment and lifted its nose to the wind.
The wedge-shaped head swung in their direction.
Jenna’s breath gathered in her lungs as the animal changed direction and started to lope toward them.
* * *
Devlin McGuire had just finished unloading the last of the gear from his SUV when he heard a muffled shriek near the lake.
Definitely human. Unmistakably feminine.
Mirror Lake, both the town and the small body of water it had been named after, didn’t attract many tourists in the summer but Dev had noticed lights in the windows of the vacant cabin next door the last time he’d been home.
He had hoped his new neighbors would have moved on by the time he returned, but apparently they were sticking around a little longer. Soaking up some sun and enjoying the peace and quiet of the lake.
Something Dev would have appreciated himself right about now.
Shouldering his canvas backpack, he took a step toward the cabin. Less than ten yards away, a shower with hot water waited. And a porterhouse steak in the freezer…
Another shriek. This one sent a flock of crows swirling into the air like smoke from a black powder rifle—and carried a distinct edge of panic.
Dev decided the porterhouse could wait a few more minutes.
Making his way through the narrow strip of woods that separated the two cabins, he caught a glimpse of a vehicle parked in the driveway. As he stepped into the clearing for a better look, he stopped short at the sight that greeted him.
A young woman sat on the hood—the hood—of a sleek, charcoal gray Audi, peering down at something…
Oh, no.
At the base of the front left tire, Dev spotted a large animal stretched out on the ground.
Adrenaline surged through his veins and carried him forward. He sprinted across the yard, boots crunching over the patches of sun-scorched grass.
The woman’s head jerked up.
A shimmering curtain of silver blond hair parted to reveal the kind of face that ordinarily graced the cover of celebrity magazines. Porcelain skin. High cheekbones. Big blue eyes that, if it were possible, seemed to get even bigger when he skidded up to the car.
“What happened?” Dev ground out.
“It…it just came out of nowhere—”
Tourists.
Dev wasted a precious second to scowl at the woman. “How fast were you going, anyway?”
“Fast? I wasn’t…I didn’t hit it. I was—” A low growl snipped off the rest of the sentence and the woman skittered backward.
Dev dropped to his knees and the shaggy head snapped around, fangs bared around the object locked between its jaws.
Relief mixed with the adrenaline as Dev came face-to-face with a pair of intelligent, albeit guilty, brown eyes.
“Violet, no. Drop it.”
“Violet?” the woman squeaked.
“That’s her name.” Dev held out his hand and received a soggy shoe with a ridiculously high heel in return. He scrubbed a thumb over a tooth mark in the leather, winced when it didn’t come out. “I’m sorry she scared you. Violet might be the size of a Volkswagen Bug, but she’s harmless.”
“It…it looks like a wolf.”
Which explained why she’d taken refuge on the hood of her car. Sort of.
“Your average timber wolf doesn’t wear a collar.” Dev buried his hand in the thick ruff of fur around the dog’s neck and jingled a pink, heart-shaped tag as proof.
“I thought she was going to attack me.”
Dev arched a brow. “So you threw a shoe at her?”
“I didn’t throw it. It…fell off.” She was glaring at him now, not Violet.
Dev was getting the distinct impression that the blame had somehow shifted from the dog to its owner.
Violet bumped his arm, her pink tongue unfurling in a cheerful doggy grin, content to let him clean up the mess she’d made. Typical.
Dev buried a sigh and reached out his hand to help the woman down.
She didn’t move.
It occurred to Dev that he probably looked a little…rough. A razor hadn’t touched his face for over a week and his camo fatigues had been washed in a spring—
The breeze shifted and Dev saw the straight little nose twitch.
—And dried by the campfire.
Yup. Now she thinks you’re a serial arsonist.
He scraped up some of the manners that had gotten a little rusty from lack of use.
“I’m Dev McGuire.”
“Jenna—” Her lips compressed as if she regretted revealing that much information. “Just…Jenna.”
Dev wondered what he could say to reassure her that neither he—nor his dog—were a threat.
“I live next door.”
Eyes as blue as the forget-me-nots scattered along the shoreline fixed on a point beyond his shoulder, as if she were gauging the distance between the two places.
Now she moved. Away from him.
Dev’s lips tipped in a rueful smile.
Apparently that wasn’t it.
Chapter Two
Jenna stiffened.
Was he laughing at her?
When she’d seen the animal hurtling across the patch of lawn like a furry twister, Jenna automatically slammed the car door to protect the children inside.
Which left her on the outside.
Faced with a decision—one hastened by the knowledge that the size and weight of something didn’t necessarily reduce its capacity for speed—Jenna had vaulted onto the hood, sacrificing a shoe in the process.
So maybe she’d reacted—okay, shrieked. Once. Or had it been twice? But not very loudly. And only because the beast had pounced on one of her favorite Kate Spades as if it were a juicy T-bone steak.
Jenna had been trying to figure out a way to get back inside the car when he showed up.
Her heart had almost stopped at the sight of the man in camouflage emerging from the woods that bordered the property.
Jenna sneaked another look at Dev McGuire and what she saw didn’t exactly put her mind at ease.
The man looked as unkempt as the wolf-dog-public nuisance now sitting sedately at his feet.
A swatch of sable hair, carelessly combed by the warm breeze skipping off the lake, had fallen across his broad forehead. Underneath a heavy growth of stubble, the features were lean and defined, a pleasing clash of sharp angles and rugged planes. Tiny lines fanned out from eyes that should have been hazel or chocolate brown, not a pale amber that reminded Jenna of clover honey.
“I can replace the shoes if necessary.” Dev McGuire broke the silence that had fallen between them and shot the dog a wry look. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make…ah, restitution for damages.”
Jenna didn’t doubt that for a minute.
“That’s not necessary.” She replaced her shoe and slid off the opposite side of the car.
Dev looked amused, as if he’d guessed that she wanted to keep her distance. Between him and his dog.
“If you ever do see a wolf, Just Jenna, I would recommend taking shelter inside the car.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jenna said stiffly. “I appreciate you coming over to get your dog, but don’t let me keep you any longer—”
“Can we get out now?” A small voice piped up from inside the car.
Jenna had been waiting for Tori to talk to her all morning but these weren’t exactly the words she’d wanted to hear.
She winced when her neighbor’s focus shifted to the backseat, where two small faces were framed in the window, noses pressed against the glass.
Jenna hadn’t forgotten about her niece and nephew, she just didn’t want to draw attention to the fact they were there.
She pinned on a smile. “In a minute, sweetheart.”
“When the wolf is gone?”
“It’s not a wolf. It’s just a…dog.” A very large, ferocious-looking dog. Named after a small, delicate flower.
“Oh.” A pause. “Can I pet it?”
Now that Dev McGuire had cleared up the mystery concerning what type of animal had scared her nearly to death, Jenna should have anticipated the request. One of the reasons Tori hadn’t wanted to leave the bed-and-breakfast was because she’d gotten so attached to Mulligan and Lady, Abby and Quinn’s dogs.
The O’Hallorans had encouraged Jenna to bring the children back anytime to play with their pets, but the generous offer hadn’t stemmed the flow of Tori’s tears. To her niece, the dogs represented something else she’d been forced to leave behind.
“I don’t think that’s—” A good idea. Safe.
While Jenna silently sifted through her options until she found the most tactful response, Dev McGuire reached out and opened the car door.
* * *
The two kids that tumbled out of the backseat were miniature replicas of the woman who held Dev responsible for her recent wardrobe malfunction.
“Hi.” Dev squatted down in front of the boy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jenna advancing like a mama bear protecting her cubs. “I’m Dev. And you are—”
“Logan J. Gardner,” came the serious response.
Dev held back a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan J. Gardner.”
“And this is Tori.” Logan gestured to the blonde pixie hiding behind him.
When Dev turned his attention to the little girl, she dipped her chin and studied the toes of her scuffed sneakers.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Tori.”
She peeked at him through a fringe of golden lashes. “Your dog is pretty.”
Violet tossed her head and preened as if she’d understood, even though Dev was certain no one had ever used that particular word to describe her before.
“Do you like dogs?” he asked.
Tori nodded shyly.
“Well, she likes kids.”
“For breakfast?” Dev heard Jenna say under her breath.
She stopped several feet away, hovering in the background like a Black Hawk helicopter, ready to swoop in and rescue her children at the first sign of danger.
Dev wondered what had happened to make her so suspicious.
Or maybe it was him she didn’t trust. The last two weeks, Dev had spent more time in the woods than polite society. Not that he was complaining—most of the time he preferred it that way.
“Violet likes to have her ears scratched. Right here.” Dev demonstrated and the dog growled her appreciation. Three pairs of eyes widened at the sound. “Don’t worry. That’s the noise she makes when she’s happy.”
“That’s what she did when she picked up Aunt Jenna’s shoe,” Logan whispered.
Aunt Jenna.
The relief that arrowed through Dev didn’t make any sense.
From the top of her shining hair to the tips of her pedicure, Just Jenna was not his type. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but everything about her shouted high maintenance. Stylish clothing. Simple but expensive jewelry.
Not to mention she was still looking at him the way she would a ketchup stain on her white jeans.
Jenna reminded him too much of Elaina Hammond. His ex-fiancé had always insisted on having the “best” of everything. The relationship ended when they’d no longer agreed on what that meant.
“Can I pet Violet, Aunt Jenna?” Tori repeated. “Please?”
Jenna tossed the dog a dubious glance. Fortunately, what Violet lacked in looks, she more than made up for in doggy smarts. She thumped her tail a few times and wiggled her eyebrows, a veritable canine poster child for good manners.
Jenna sighed. “I suppose so.”
“Me, too.” Logan dropped to his knees in front of the dog, whose lips peeled back to expose a row of gleaming white teeth.
Dev heard an audible gulp.
“Don’t worry. She’s smiling at you,” he said. “Violet, meet Logan J. Gardner.”
The boy tentatively reached out a hand and his mouth dropped open in amazement when Violet lifted a paw the size of a snowshoe for him to shake.
“See? She’s very well trained,” Dev murmured.
Jenna turned one slim ankle to examine her shoe and Dev almost laughed.
Point taken.
“What kind of dog is she?” Logan asked.
“According to the vet, mostly German shepherd and husky.” Dev ruffled the dog’s ears. “I found her running loose in the woods last summer when she was a pup. It took a few days and two packages of hotdogs to get her to trust me. That’s how she got her name,” he added. “She was shy as a violet.”
Tori plopped down in the grass and Violet cemented their new friendship by swiping the girl’s cheek with her tongue. Tori drew back, giggling.
“See Aunt Jenna! She doesn’t bite.”
“Only shoes.” Dev tipped a smile at Jenna.
A smile she didn’t return.
“I’m sure Mr. McGuire has things to do today. And so do we.” Jenna glanced at the cabin and Dev was pretty sure he saw her…shudder?
Wait a second.
“You’re staying here?” The moment Dev had laid eyes on Jenna, he’d dismissed the notion she’d been staying in the cabin and assumed she had somehow gotten lost and ended up mistaking the long driveway for a road. It happened all the time in an area where the locals had a tendency to give out directions based on natural landmarks rather than official signs.
“We have to.” Logan sidled closer to his sister. “So our Mom knows where to find us.”
Dev had no idea what that meant, but for a split second, he saw Jenna’s composure slip. The flash of vulnerability an unexpected, almost startling, contrast to the confidence she wore with the same ease as her designer labels.
The speed in which Jenna had recovered from her initial embarrassment over their unusual introduction, restoring both her dignity and poise as swiftly as she’d replaced her shoe, told Dev she placed a high value on both.
But something also told Dev that Jenna was totally out of her element here. And not only because she looked like the type of woman whose idea of roughing it was a hotel where the guests were greeted by a valet, not an oversize mutt with a penchant for leather shoes.
Dev watched a chipmunk disappear through a crack in the foundation and imagined an entire colony of the furry little critters living under the porch. Not the kind of neighbors Just Jenna would choose if given a choice.
Then again, judging from the wary looks Dev had been receiving, she probably wouldn’t have chosen him, either.
Keep your eyes open, Dev, Jason had liked to say. God puts certain people in your path for a reason.
After several years of soul searching, Dev no longer found those words difficult to believe. Even if he did spend long periods of time in the woods to reduce the risk of it happening.
But why would God deposit a reminder of the life he’d walked away from—even worse, a strikingly pretty reminder—less than a hundred yards from his front door?
There could only be one reason that Dev could think of.
He was being punished for something.
“There’s a bed-and-breakfast about two miles from here,” Dev said slowly. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable there.”
And, to be honest, so would he. One of the reasons Dev had turned his late grandfather’s summer cabin into a permanent residence was because it provided the solitude he craved. If the owner of the cabin next door started renting it out on a regular basis, Dev would have to buy the place in order to prevent an influx of tourists from invading his privacy.
“We were just there,” Tori piped up. “Abby has a dog named Mulligan, but he’s not as big as Violet.”
“We had to stay there because of the fire but Grace—she’s our social worker—told us it was okay for us to come back home now,” her brother added.
Dev’s attempt to make sense of the conversation was sabotaged by a single word. His gaze swung to Jenna.
“What fire?”
Jenna debated what—if anything—to tell Devlin McGuire.
For a girl who transferred the details of her personal life to print for hundreds of devoted readers each week, she was curiously loathe to share any of them with him.
Unfortunately, the children didn’t seem to share her reservations, forcing Jenna to question her initial impression of her niece and nephew. Maybe Logan and Tori weren’t quiet. Maybe they were simply quiet around her.
She decided to give their neighbor the condensed version.
“No one was hurt and it didn’t cause any major damage.” At least, not to the cabin itself. Jenna still wasn’t sure what lasting effects that night had had on her niece and nephew.
“And you were here at the time?” Dev persisted.
“Me and Logan were.” Tori looked down at the ground. “And our mom.”
“She’s in the hospital,” Logan said.
Dev’s eyebrows dipped together in a frown and Jenna knew what he was thinking. “Not because of the fire,” she said quickly. “She’s there…for other reasons.”
“Aunt Jenna’s staying with us until Mom gets better.” He looked at her for confirmation.
“That’s right.” Jenna masked her concern for Shelly, wishing she knew how long that would be.
She’d called the treatment center several days ago and asked to speak with her sister, only to be informed that Shelly wasn’t accepting phone calls.
Jenna hadn’t known where to turn for answers.
At Kate Nichols’s suggestion, she had contacted Jake Sutton, the local chief of police who’d been at the scene the night of the fire. All he’d been able to discover was that Shelly had rented the cabin at the beginning of the summer and kept to herself.
Strange as it seemed, especially given a small town’s propensity toward gossip, the police chief’s assessment had proven to be correct. Kate had made some inquiries, too, and none of her regular customers at the Grapevine Cafe knew anything about Shelly.
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