02_Groom of Her Own (13 page)

Brad hoped that the explanation for her reaction was surprise rather than rejection. Because he decided to follow his father’s advice. If he didn’t at least give this thing a chance, he’d grow old regretting it, wondering what might have been. And he didn’t want to look back in twenty years and say, “What if?”

But how would Sam react to the notion of romance? They’d never actually gone out on a real date. She might even laugh at the suggestion. Then again, she might be willing to give it a try. What did he have to lose by testing the waters? He’d give her a call tomorrow and do just that.

It was Wednesday before Brad actually connected with Sam in person. Until then they communicated by voice mail, which was very handy for some things and very unsatisfactory for others—like asking a woman out on a first date. It wasn’t something you left a message about.

Brad had thought the whole thing through and decided that a safe first “date” would be the annual church picnic. It would be a date, but not a “romantic” type date, which was probably a good way to start.
If
Sam was willing. And
if
he ever had a chance to ask her, he thought in exasperation. As her phone rang for the third time he sighed, certain that the answering machine was going to kick in any second. But just then a slightly breathless Sam answered.

“Sam? It’s Brad.”

“Brad! Finally! A live voice!” Sam sank down into a kitchen chair and pulled off her gloves.

“You sound out of breath.”

“Yeah. I was working in my garden between appointments and I forgot to take the portable phone out with me. Oh, if you talk to your dad, tell him I mailed those hollyhock seeds.”

“I will. He had a great time Saturday night, by the way.”

“I’m glad. I enjoyed his company. He’s a very nice man.”

“Yeah, he is. So how’s everything else going?”

Sam’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Brad never called to just chat. He always had a purpose. And she had a feeling he did today, too, but for some reason he was taking the long way around to it. Which was all right with her. It felt good just to hear his voice.

“Oh, busy as always. I’ve got to go to Chicago next week for a few days, and trying to get everything squared away before I leave is always a hassle.”

“You’re going out of town?” he asked in surprise.

“Uh-huh. The company is having a regional seminar that I have to attend. It’s a pain, but they do this every once in a while. It’s only from Sunday night through Thursday.”

“Then you’ll just be getting back when I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Now it was her turn to be surprised.

“Jersey. When mom died Rebecca and I decided to go down together for a few days over the Memorial Day holiday, thinking we’d have some family time with Dad and try to lift his spirits. But thanks to a certain redhead, the trip probably isn’t even necessary,” he said, and the teasing warmth in his voice made her smile. “Dad’s busy as a beaver with his garden, and he’s going to meet his buddies again for cards. Frankly, I’d probably cancel except that Rebecca needs a vacation desperately, and if I don’t go she probably won’t, either.”

“Well, I guess I won’t see you for a while, then. But I hope you have a good time.”

Did he detect a note of disappointment in her voice, he wondered? Or was it only wishful thinking? In any case, he’d have his answer soon enough, because she’d given him a perfect opening for the invitation.

“I guess not. We’ll have to make up for lost time when we both get back. In fact, arranging a get-together was one of the reasons I called.” He paused long enough to take a deep breath, feeling like a schoolboy about to set up his very first date. “We always have a church picnic the first weekend in June, and I was wondering if you’d like to go. One of the couples in our congregation has a farm about forty-five minutes from St. Louis, and we use it every year for the picnic. It’s just a down-home kind of thing, but you might have fun.”

Sam stared unseeingly at the refrigerator. Was Brad asking her out on a date? Or did he just think, as a friend, that she might enjoy meeting some of the people in his congregation? She didn’t have a clue. Should she ask, she wondered? Part of her wanted to know and part of her didn’t. If it wasn’t a date, she could continue seeing Brad as a friend without worrying about misleading him. If it was a date, she would need to proceed with extreme caution. Maybe even consider ending their relationship. No, she decided, she didn’t want to know. But she
did
want to go.

When Sam didn’t respond immediately, Brad forced himself to laugh. “Is the thought of going to a church picnic that shocking? I promise this is not a revival meeting in disguise. There will be no sermon and no hymn singing. It’s purely social.”

Sam smiled. “I wasn’t worried about that. Yes, I’d like to go. It sounds like fun.”

“That’s great!” he replied, feeling a strange, euphoric elation. “I’ll call you when I get back to arrange the details. In the meantime, have a safe trip.”

“You, too. And thanks for asking, Brad.”

“My pleasure,” he said warmly. “See you in a couple of weeks.”

“So…are you going to tell me about Sam?” Rebecca asked as they sat on the back porch of their childhood home eating ice cream cones.

Brad had been waiting for this question. He’d seen his sister’s speculative look when they arrived earlier in the day and his father immediately asked about Sam. Brad took a leisurely bite of his ice cream before turning to Rebecca.

“What about Sam?” he asked innocently.

Rebecca rolled her large, hazel eyes. “What about Sam?” she mimicked. “Give me a break, big brother. You know exactly what I mean. What’s the scoop?”

“You’re eating it,” he teased, pointing to her doubledip ice cream cone.

She rolled her eyes again. “Spare me the bad puns. I hope you do better than that in your sermons,” she said with a grin. “But don’t try to change the subject. Who’s Sam?”

“She’s my real estate agent,” Brad replied.

“Oh.” Rebecca’s face fell momentarily, but then she glanced at him suspiciously. “Then why does Dad know her?”

Brad chuckled. “You know her, too.”

Rebecca frowned. “I do?”

“Uh-huh. You met her at Laura’s wedding. She was the maid of honor.”

“Oh, yeah! The redhead,” she said thoughtfully. “I remember. She seemed really nice. Kind of perky and upbeat.”

“Yep,” he confirmed, crunching into the cone.

“Brad Matthews, are you going to tell me anything? Or do I have to give Dad the third degree?” she said in exasperation.

Brad chuckled again. He and Rebecca had a good rapport, an easy give and take, and he always enjoyed teasing her—within limits. But he also knew when to stop. She had a sensitive nature that made her vulnerable to hurt, and he was always mindful of that. “Okay, what do you want to know?” he capitulated.

Her longish russet-colored hair, usually secured in a French twist, swung freely tonight as she turned toward him eagerly. When it was loose like this she looked so youthful that it was hard for him to believe she was already thirty-two. “Everything,” she said simply.

“Everything is a big order,” he replied with a smile.

“Okay.” She frowned in concentration, the evening shadows highlighting the delicate bone structure of her face. “Why does Dad seem to know her so well?”

“She had dinner with us when he was in town. In fact, she’s responsible for that miracle.” He nodded toward Henry, who was energetically weeding the perennial bed. “She and Dad had a lively discussion about gardening, and the next thing I knew they were sending seeds back and forth in the mail.” He shook his head and smiled tenderly, his eyes growing soft. “She is one amazing woman.”

Rebecca studied his face, her own eyes widening in surprise. “Why Brad Matthews—I don’t believe this!” she said softly. “You’re in love!”

He turned to stare at her, his smile evaporating. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he protested.

Rebecca grinned smugly. “I would. It’s written all over your face. Maybe you haven’t admitted it yet, but your heart knows the truth. I can see it in your eyes. And I’m happy for you,” she added softly.

Brad continued to stare at her. He liked Sam. A lot. And he was definitely attracted to her. That’s why he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship, see where it led. But he didn’t think he was actually in love. At least not yet.

“Don’t jump to any conclusions, Rebecca,” he warned. “I only met her two months ago.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t take long if it’s the right person.”

“Now how would you know?” he teased.

Rebecca’s hand paused imperceptibly as she raised the ice cream cone to her mouth, then moved on. It was a nuance, but Brad saw it and realized he’d spoken too rashly. She’d always been sensitive about the lack of romance in her life.

“Becka…I’m sorry,” he said contritely, reverting to her childhood nickname.

She shrugged, but there was a stiffness in her shoulders that hadn’t been there before. “It’s okay. You’re right. I’m certainly no authority on the subject.”

Brad frowned. He didn’t understand why his sister remained unmarried. Even as a child she loved romantic stories, dreamed of having her own home someday, talked of the children she would lovingly raise. But at some point she simply stopped mentioning those things. She rarely dated, as far as he knew, instead devoting all her time to her business. It had never made sense to him.

“Becka.” He reached over and touched her arm, but she averted her gaze, and he saw her swallow convulsively. “Becka,” he repeated more gently. He was treading on off-limits territory, and he knew it. But he worried about her, and there was rarely an opening like this to discuss the subject. “You have so much love to give,” he said carefully. “You should have a husband and kids to share it with. Is there some reason you don’t? Would you like to talk about it?”

She glanced down, and there was a long moment of silence. When at last she looked up at him she was smiling, but be saw the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “Thanks for the offer, big brother. I can see why you’re such a good minister. But I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me. I have a good life.”

Brad let it drop. She wasn’t going to tell him anything, and that was her choice. But she was such a loving, giving, caring person that it seemed wrong for her to live a solitary life. Despite the challenges and demands of her business, which kept her extremely busy, she had to be lonely. And loneliness, as he well knew, was a heavy cross to bear.

“Well, I’m here if you ever need a sympathetic ear,” he said.

She nodded. “I know. And thanks. But we were talking about
your
love life, remember?” She touched his arm gently. “I hope this works out for you, Brad. Rachel was a wonderful woman, but maybe it’s time to let go. I’d hate to think of you spending the rest of your life alone. You could still have that family you always wanted, you know? You’d make a great father.”

“That may be jumping the gun just a little,” he cautioned her. “But I have to admit a family would be really nice,” he added with a wistful smile. “It’s one of those dreams I gave up when Rachel died. But maybe there’s hope after all.”

Rebecca squeezed his arm. “I’ll keep you in my prayers.” She smiled, and for a moment in the growing darkness their eyes connected, further solidifying the brother-sister bond that seemed to grow stronger with the passing years. Then Rebecca dropped her hand and crumpled her napkin, turning to look toward her father. “Well, do you think we should drag Dad in before the mosquitoes finish him off?” she said with a laugh, lightening the mood.

Brad grinned. “Yeah. I don’t know how he can see in the dark, anyway.”

It wasn’t until much later, as he lay in the familiar bed of his childhood, that Brad had a chance to think back on his conversation with Rebecca. Her instincts were probably correct, he suspected. His relationship with Sam seemed to be heading in a serious direction. He wouldn’t call it love yet, but the possibility was certainly there. And that left him with a deep feeling of hope and happiness.

At the same time he was troubled by his sister’s loneliness. She would deny it, of course, but he knew it was true. And he also knew instinctively that a solitary existence was not the life the Lord had intended for her. She had
chosen
it, he suspected—for reasons she didn’t want to share.

As he drifted to sleep, he took a moment to send a request to the Lord. Help Rebecca to find a man deserving of her love, he prayed. And help her overcome whatever it is that holds her back from sharing that love.

When the morning of the picnic finally dawned, Sam felt as if a lifetime had passed since she’d seen Brad. This was their longest separation since Laura’s wedding, and she had missed him more than she expected. His mere presence brought a spark to her life, and without him the days seemed dull and lifeless.

Even talking to Laura a couple of times a week at Bible class—which Sam was actually enjoying—or on the phone didn’t help much. Besides, when Laura found out that Brad had asked her to the picnic, she began firing questions that Sam either couldn’t answer or wouldn’t consider. So their conversations were brief and unsatisfactory. Sam would have liked to talk with Laura about her feelings—she desperately needed to talk to somebody!—but she couldn’t very well say she had a dilemma without saying why. And she wasn’t about to share that secret with anyone.

Sam eyed herself critically in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Her khaki shorts, which Laura had assured her were perfectly appropriate, were of a modest length, and the short-sleeved madras cotton blouse cinched in with a hemp belt flattered her figure without being flashy. Her hair was sedately French braided and she’d used only a little makeup. She looked very respectable for a church picnic, she thought with a satisfied nod. Now it was just a matter of waiting for Brad to arrive. Except the waiting wasn’t easy.

By the time the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, Sam was a bundle of nerves. She still hadn’t resolved the “date” issue—was it or wasn’t it?—but it
sure felt
like a date. Except that she was never this nervous before an ordinary date. And it only got worse when she opened the door and Brad smiled at her.