Page 80 of Son of a Preacher Man

Staring at the wall of black and white photographs, Linnea shook her head. The spot where the portrait of her and her mother once was, had been replaced with a yearbook photo of Grace. “I do look like her. It’s almost spooky.”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“There’s so many pictures of us,” she commented, taking them down from the wall. “Catherine didn’t keep any.”

Before Grace died, she did.

“Jarrid was obsessed, obviously.” Kodiak chuckled. “You must get that from him.”

“These aren’t just pictures, Seth. They’re moments.” Looking over at him, Linnea spoke so earnestly, “And it’s moments that make up your life.”

“Are you trying to say our father’s sentimental?” Because he sincerely doubted it.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She shrugged. “But they must’ve meant something to him. Could be his memories were all he had.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He picked up a photo of himself in a football jersey. Kodiak still didn’t think so, but if it made Linnea feel better, he wasn’t about to disagree with her.

The ringing of the doorbell startling him for a second, he dropped the frame onto the couch. “Must be the groceries. I’ll get it.”

Only it wasn’t.

Standing as tall as Kodiak did, the twenty-something-year-old kid himself stood on the other side of the door. Clean-shaven. Green eyes. Dark hair, the ends curling at the collar of his button-up shirt. Creases pressed into his khaki pants, his hands folded neatly in front of him.

Ah, Jeremy, surprised it took you this long.

“Who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question. It’s been a while, but even with the way you look now, I’m sure I know who you are. Seems you don’t remember me, Seth.” Politely, he extended his hand. “Jeremy Blythe.”

“It’s been a long while. You were a little kid.”

“Pastor said he’d get you back here.” He smirked, trying to peer into the house. “Where is he?”

Either Jeremy was playing games or Hazel had been right. Kodiak didn’t trust him, or anyone from the church for that matter, but he saw no reason not to tell him.

“In the hospital. My father’s quite ill. You didn’t know?”

“I did not. He only told me he had personal business to take care of and asked if I would minister for him in his absence.” Jeremy paused for a moment, his lips pressed together, before lifting his gaze. “I must go to him.”

Nope. Can’t let you do that.

Kodiak couldn’t say what his reasoning was—a feeling in his gut, maybe—but he was going to keep this guy at arm’s length. It was best to have as little contact with him and the church folk as possible. Besides, the last thing anyone needed was to turn Jarrid’s deathbed into a looney-tune prayer revival.

“I’m sorry, except for immediate family, he can’t have visitors,” he explained, feigning a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you understand.”

“I see.” Jeremy nodded, but oddly, he was smirking. “Kindly tell him he’ll be in our prayers and do let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“We’ll be sure to do that and thank you.” Hearing his sister coming down the hall, Kodiak went to close the door.

“Is your wife here with you?”

Charlotte in her arms, Linnea opened it back up. “Hello, Jeremy.”

“Oh, there’s a child.” Ignoring her greeting, Jeremy’s gaze flicked from the baby back to him.

A subtle nod was his only response.

“The gifts of God are great. For this child, too, we shall pray.” But his smile was leering. “I feel I must tell you, Seth, you and your wife won’t be welcomed back here.”

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