A Love Like Ours (27 page)

Lyndie knelt next to Mollie’s chair, talking softly, holding Silver’s lead rope.

He had a hundred things he needed to get done. He didn’t even know for sure what a chicken tarragon sandwich involved. He probably wouldn’t like it. And yet he’d agreed to join them. Because
she
was here.

They’d had a long dinner last night at Taste of Texas, and afterward he’d walked her back to her apartment. It wouldn’t have mattered if the barbecue had been terrible or if it had rained on their walk. Lyndie had been there, and she could turn something ordinary into something beautiful. He wished he could spend every minute of his day with her. He wanted to.

When he’d returned to his loft last night, he’d slept better than he had in longer than his memory could reach. After two good nights of sleep in a row, the exhaustion that usually weighed on him like a coat of iron had lifted.

Lyndie drew Silver Leaf near to Mollie’s chair. “So this is him, Mols, the horse I’ve been telling you about. I’d like to introduce you to Silver Leaf.”

Mollie’s head turned in Lyndie’s direction. Her face twitched, as if trying to talk or smile.

“Want to pet him?” Lyndie asked, already taking Mollie’s limp hand in her own.

Affection for Lyndie, so sharp it felt almost like pain, scored through Jake. She was amazingly persistent in her efforts to help people and animals. Horses had been his therapy for years, so he understood the powerful effect they could have on humans. Yet it seemed clear to him that nothing could be done to help Mollie more than what medical science and her family’s care had already done. Even so, Lyndie had brought her sister here. Mollie was twenty-seven years old, and Lyndie was still trying to do what she could to improve her sister’s lot in life.

Silver Leaf whinnied, and Mollie seemed to come to attention in response, lifting her eyebrows a couple of times.

As if he understood exactly what Lyndie expected, the horse stepped forward and carefully lowered his head.

“He’s bowing to you, sweetie! Like a king to a queen.” Lyndie
placed Mollie’s hand on Silver Leaf’s head. Both Mollie and Silver Leaf seemed to still, the moment stretching.

Jake had had a knot in his gut ever since he’d heard Silver Leaf’s diagnosis. He’d been downplaying his worries to Lyndie because he knew she was concerned already and he didn’t want to increase her worries.

He’d seen some of his horses come through lung infections and viruses quickly. Others had been taken down by them. He didn’t want to think what it would do to Lyndie if this illness took down Silver Leaf.

When Silver Leaf moved away from Mollie, Jake extended his arm for the lead rope. “May I?”

“Thanks.” Lyndie passed it over, which freed her to stand beside Mollie and hold her sister’s hand.

“You brought Mollie here because you thought Silver Leaf could do her some good. Right?”

She reached back and brought her hair over one shoulder. “Exactly the opposite.”

“The opposite?” He furrowed his brow.

“I brought Mollie here because I believe that
she’ll
be good for
Silver Leaf
.” She gave a tiny shrug. “She has that effect on everyone.”

He stared at her, astonished. She thought that Mollie’s visit here would heal Silver Leaf? “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“It’ll work,” she said with all the confidence in the world. “You’ll see.”

Jake didn’t say anything else because even though he’d turned cynical, he loved her just like she was—a bit of a dreamer, determined, hopeful, and too soft-hearted for her own good.

———

Lyndie watched the struggle on Jake’s face, somewhat entertained by it. Tall, Dark, and Brooding thought her kooky. Fine. She was right about this, as he would soon see.

“Do ya’ll have plastic forks and napkins inside somewhere, Lyndie?” Nancy asked.

“Sure. I’ll show you.” Lyndie led Nancy toward the barn. She’d always liked and admired Jake’s mom. Nancy had never met a stranger, and she’d never seen any glass as half empty.

“I have a secret to tell you,” Nancy said.

“Oh yeah?” Once they’d entered the barn, they stopped and faced each other.

“You have to promise not to tell my other kids,” Nancy said.

“Okay, I promise.”

“Jake’s always been my favorite.”

“Oh.” Well . . . how could he not be?

“He was such a wonderful boy, thoughtful and responsible. Smart.
Whooeee
, handsome.”

“I agree with you. He’s all those things.” Were they about to form a Jake fan club? She’d readily become an inaugural member.

“His injuries have been hardest on him, of course. But his injuries have been hard on John and me, too. His brothers and sister.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’m glad he’s working with you, Lyndie. Karen told me that he’s come by their place a few times, that he’s started to talk with her.”

“I think it’s progress.”

Nancy took hold of her hands and squeezed. “I know it is.” A sheen of moisture came to her eyes. “Thank you, Lyndie.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Lyndie assured her. Had she just said the same thing to Jake yesterday about Silver Leaf? Her intuition that the man’s destiny and Silver’s destiny were tangled together intensified. “He’ll be all right.” They both would be.

The next afternoon Lyndie pressed her Jeep’s gas pedal hard enough to make the speed limit frown. She didn’t like to be late anytime, but especially not for her standing Wednesday afternoon coffee date with Amber.

She’d been absolutely
set
on getting Mollie out to see Silver
Leaf again today. Since both her mom and dad were working, and Grandpa Harold hadn’t been trusted with a set of car keys since 2008, she’d driven to Holley after work to pick up Mollie, driven her to Lone Star to see Silver, then driven Mollie home again. She’d already logged more than three hours in her car today.

Lyndie needed caffeine. And not just to recover from all the brain-numbing time behind the wheel. She needed it to help her get through the rest of the day. Staying up late for three nights in a row because you were thrilled out of your mind to be dating a handsome man did not make for a solid eight hours of shut-eye.

She arrived at Amber’s apartment seven minutes behind schedule. “Sorry I’m late.” Harried, she rushed into Amber’s kitchen only to find that Amber had the coffee prep—usually Lyndie’s domain—well under control.

“Don’t worry about it at all. I’ve got your back.” The whipped cream canister made its rasping sound as Amber shot two final mounds onto Jayden’s cup of hot chocolate. “You’re never late if you get here before the whipped cream melts. If you get here after the whipped cream melts, then we can both agree that you’re out of luck.” Amber grinned.

Lyndie did the honors with the peppermint sprinkles, expertly dusting the mugs with just the right amount.

Amber carried Jayden’s cup outside to him. Lyndie remained behind, leaning her hip against Amber’s kitchen counter, letting the warmth of the coffee mug seep into her palms. Through the window she could see Jayden sitting in front of his hero house, sending his army guys on Superman-style flying missions off the roof. Just yesterday she and Jayden had constructed a table and two benches out of Popsicle sticks. They’d made long-range expansion plans for a mini pond behind the house. And—how cute would this be?—a tiny pier. Next time she passed a craft store, she’d stop and pick up some more dollhouse accessories, like fairy-sized buckets and lanterns.

Amber returned to the kitchen and scooped up her mug. “Here’s to coffee.”

“Here’s to friends.”

“Long day?”

“Yeah. Silver Leaf is sick.”

“Oh no.”

Lyndie explained Silver’s condition and why his illness had motivated her to drive Mollie to and from Lone Star.

What if she added a Mollie character to her fairy story? The Mollie character could be a still and quiet . . . enchantress? Full of miraculous powers? The blond fairy and the redheaded fairy could take the broken wand to the enchantress to have it fixed so that they could then use it to help the prince.

“More coffee?” Amber asked, holding the coffeepot aloft.

“I will in a minute.” In fact, it might be nice to add a yummy drink to the story, too. At the end? They could all celebrate with silver goblets tumbling over with cream and chocolate.

Amber topped up her own mug. She’d combed her glossy hair into a ponytail only two inches in length. With her perfectly applied makeup, scrubs, and curvy body, she looked like the nurse every male between sixteen and ninety-five dreamed of. Lyndie could only guess that Dr. Dean’s patient list had grown significantly since Amber had come to work there. “Have any handsome firemen asked you out since we last spoke?”

Amber’s shoulders sagged. “No. I saw Will yesterday morning at Cream or Sugar. Every time we talk, I fall for him a little bit more. But still no date invitation, so I’m planning to talk with Celia’s Uncle Danny soon to see if he can give me any more advice. The two of us both need one more date.” She gave Lyndie a very long and significant look. “Right? Or is there any chance that my upstairs neighbor has already found herself someone to go out with?” A mischievous glint stole into her expression.

“I . . .” Her relationship with Jake felt like a jewel she’d hidden. At the moment it belonged only to her—safe, protected, very fragile.

“Because I happened to see you and a certain cowboy come
through the front gate last night after taking your dogs for a walk.”

“A certain cowboy and I work together. We’ve had dinner together a few times. We’re friends.”

“Friends who hold hands, apparently.”

Busted. Lyndie smiled into her coffee and took a few sips, buying time.

“A woman’s guess is much more accurate than a man’s certainty,” Amber said. “Have you heard that one? By Kipling?”

“No, but I like it.”

“So, Jake Porter, huh? I thought I sensed some sparks between you two at Easter and at Lone Star the day of Silver Leaf’s race. Clearly, his dark and ominous vibe doesn’t make you nervous.”

“No.”

“You like it.”

“I like
him
.”

“He was your best friend when you were kids.”

“Yes.”

Amber gave a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose you’re going to want to count one of the dinners you’ve had with him as your final of the three dates.”

Lyndie set aside her mug and interlaced her fingers into a begging position. “Yes. Please, please, please.”

“Fine.” Amber made a sweeping gesture with her free hand. “I can’t believe that you’re dating a gorgeous man—he’s frightening, but gorgeous—while I’m going to have to slog on with the singles scene. That’s not very sacrificial of you, Lyndie.” Laughter animated her face.

“I agree. Not very sacrificial of me. How about I give you my portion of whipped cream next week, and we’ll call it even?”

“And I
really
can’t believe,” Amber continued, gathering steam, “that three of my friends—first Meg, then Celia, and now you are all going to marry hunky Porter brothers.”

“What?! Who said anything about marriage? Jake and I have eaten a couple of dinners together. That’s it.”

“Was there any kissing involved in these dinners?”

If she didn’t answer, her blush would answer for her. “There was kissing.”

“Fabulous kissing?”

“Fabulous kissing.”

“Then marriage may follow. From what I’ve seen, once the Porter men find someone they like, they don’t mess around.”

Y
ou sure this is a good idea?” Jake asked Lyndie the next night.

She almost laughed at the skepticism in his face. “I’m sure.”

“Eating something that comes from a truck?”

“I can’t believe that the whole food truck craze has missed you completely, Jake Porter. You live in Texas, not Antarctica. It’s high time you ate dinner from a food truck.”

“Explain to me again why this is better than eating at a regular restaurant?”

“Because it’s fun and you get to sit outside. I like the ambiance out here.”

“Ambiance sounds like a California thing.” He treated everything remotely Californian with suspicion.

“California does not have a monopoly on ambiance.”

Lyndie had her arm through the crook of Jake’s and was leaning into the unmovable strength and muscle of his side while they waited for the food truck staff to finish preparing their order. She’d talked him into coming to Holley’s largest park, a parcel of land with a creek running across one side, a playground, and a grassy stretch currently occupied by a flag football game.

Four different food trucks pulled up to the park’s curb every Thursday evening. Lyndie had been wanting to come and try them
out, and tonight’s pleasant spring weather had sold her on the idea of a food truck date night.

How amazing. How absolutely, ridiculously wonderful that she suddenly had someone that she loved to go on date nights with.

“After tonight I guess I’ll be able to cross food truck off my bucket list,” Jake said.

“Food truck isn’t a bucket-list item. You have to put things that are more imaginative and harder to achieve on your bucket list.”

The front brim of his hat tipped down as he looked at her. The heat in his expression juxtaposed the austerity of his features and scar. “My bucket list is pretty short.” He said it as if his bucket list consisted of nothing but her.

The words ran over her like a shiver of delight.

“Porter,” a food truck employee called.

Jake picked up their plates, a trio of gourmet sliders for him and a beef tenderloin sandwich for her. Lyndie lifted their glass bottles of Dr Pepper and followed him to a nearby table.

He toyed with her hand while they ate and talked. The sight of his powerful fingers intermixing with hers kept distracting her. She swallowed a bite and paused to stare at their hands, overcome by an insistent tug of desire. She’d begun to suspect that her past non-interest in dating had been God’s practical way of saving her for the man He’d picked for her. Because now that Jake had arrived, her non-interest had turned into the most rapt interest imaginable.

“Wh . . . What was I saying?” she asked. “Was I saying something?”

“I don’t remember.” No smile from him, only fierce concentration. Their food officially forgotten.

She leaned toward him, held his face in her hands, and gave him a light kiss. That she’d somehow earned the ability to kiss him or hold his hand—it awed her every time. Pulling back, she smiled.

“Your food truck idea is starting to grow on me.” Tiny, charming lines fanned out from his eyes.

“Good.”
Just try not to fall in love with him, Lyndie. Try not to.
Every day it got harder.

A rush of wind snatched her napkin into the air. Before she could react, he was up and retrieving it for her.

Jake had manners. And not the kind of manners that she’d been accustomed to in California. No, he had old-fashioned Southern manners. He stood when she entered a room, opened the door to his truck for her before walking around to his side, and held up her coat so she’d have an easier time putting it on.

“Thank you,” she said when he handed her the errant napkin.

“Do you need anything while I’m up?”

See? Manners. “Nope, not a thing. Sit.”

He did so, straddling the concrete bench so that he faced her. He leaned over his plate to take a bite of one of his sliders.

She’d succeeded at getting him to eat well at dinnertime, at least. After this, she had a master plan that included a stop for ice cream and then maybe some TV watching at his very bare and sparsely furnished industrial building-turned-loft.

“Is your mom going to bring Mollie out to Lone Star again tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes. She’s already told me that she will.” Lyndie’s mom loyally supported Lyndie’s belief in Mollie’s healing power.

“Is there anything I can say to convince you that Silver Leaf’s already receiving the best medical care available?”

Jake had gone the traditional route and followed Dr. Murray’s prescription, exactly as he should have. “No convincing needed. I agree with you. Silver’s getting the best medical care possible. But what Mollie can do for him goes above and beyond all that.” She lifted a shoulder. “Healing is her God-given gift.”

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.”

“It will work.” She picked up a fallen piece of tenderloin and popped it into her mouth. She knew Jake thought her fanciful for repeatedly bringing a woman who couldn’t talk to visit a horse who couldn’t talk. But Mollie and Silver’s communication did not require language. “I haven’t totally fallen off my rocker,” she stated.

“Just almost totally.”

She smiled and stuck out her chin. “Remember my Casanova theory about Silver Leaf? Did that or did that not have merit?”

“Half of me still thinks your Casanova theory was a fluke.”

“Oh, how wrong you are. My Casanova theory was genius. And so is my Mollie theory.”

He took hold of her hand and brought it up to kiss the back of it.

Happiness buzzed around Lyndie like fireflies.

She’d feared that Jake might not make a good boyfriend. He’d debunked that fear. Tall, Dark, and Brooding had turned out to be a shockingly good boyfriend. Attentive. Generous. And the thing that she really couldn’t get over, the thing that made her swoon the most . . . he seemed to think her wonderful.

Now if he’d only get himself straight with God, she could stop fighting this worrisome feeling of fear that came over her in odd moments. Each time doubt struck her, Lyndie had to battle an overwhelming urge to hug Jake to her with all the power and fortitude she possessed.

As if that would make any difference at all, should God decide to rip them apart.

Just try not to fall in love with him, Lyndie. Try not to.

On Saturday morning Jake stood in front of Silver Leaf’s stall as the dim light of dawn stole into the barn through its doorways and windows.

He’d eaten six dinners now with Lyndie, and he was trying, whenever he remembered Iraq, to force himself to do what Karen had suggested. Instead of shying away from the memories, he’d been working at confronting them. He hoped that Karen knew what she was talking about, hoped that if he could face the IED, then its grip on him would weaken.

He would never again be a completely whole or innocent man. Yet, each day for the last six days, Lyndie had held his hand and kissed him and smiled at him. Every day.

Because of that, something bright and calm, like the light of this new day, had begun to grow within him. He was starting to feel . . .

Better.

And now there was this.

Jake studied Silver Leaf and the horse studied him. The stallion had eaten every bit of his food and a good bit of hay as well. His temperature had vanished.

Silver Leaf raised his head and nickered, his ears pricked in Jake’s direction.

Blackberry, in the stall next door, nickered in answer.

Jake pushed his hands into his pockets, slowly shaking his head. He could not believe it. He wasn’t the only one who was improving.

Silver Leaf’s health had returned. He’d beaten the infection and virus in less than a week. Another miracle.

He sensed Lyndie’s presence before he heard her footsteps. Sure enough, she entered the shed row and walked toward him in her riding clothes. Of all the strange miracles his world-weary eyes had seen, she was the greatest.

Over the past days, he’d found himself wanting to tell her that he loved her. But he didn’t have the courage to reveal so much of himself. He didn’t know how she felt about him, and until he did, he couldn’t begin to say the words.

Loving her had helped him in many ways. But it had made life worse for him in one particular way: The more he loved her and depended on her, the more terrified he grew of losing her. He couldn’t shake the sense that their relationship would not turn out well.

He still worried that she’d move away or that she’d see him for what he was and break up with him. But far more often, he worried that she’d be hurt. His fear for her safety never left him. It only grew colder and larger.

It wasn’t normal, this terror he had that she’d injure herself. It had become an obsession.

“Has Silver Leaf improved at all?” Lyndie asked. Since the barn sat empty of everyone but them, she intertwined her fingers with his.

“Yes. As far as I can tell, he’s improved a lot.”

She slanted a questioning look up at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it!” She squeezed his hand, smiling big. “Mollie’s magic to the rescue again. Can I say I told you so?”

“You just did.”

She laughed. “Jake Porter, this”—she motioned toward the dapple grey Thoroughbred—“is proof that in this life, there is always reason to hope.”

“You and your sister healed him, just like you said you would.”

She shook her head. “God is the only one who can truly heal. In this case, it seems that He heard my prayers and used Mollie—”

“—and you—”

“—to help the process along. Look at Silver Leaf. Now look at me and tell me that you’re beginning to believe that there is a God. A loving God.”

He gathered her against his chest. “I’m still not sure about the rest. But I’ll gladly look at you any time.”

“Where there’s God, there’s hope,” she said. “And where there’s hope, there can be healing. You can’t look at Silver Leaf this morning and not see that.”

The truth in her words tugged at him. He couldn’t argue with her. Nor could he continue writing God off as a myth. If Lyndie’s God existed, and Jake had begun to suspect that He did, then Lyndie’s God sometimes allowed terrible things to happen to people. But with Lyndie in his arms, he had to admit that her God sometimes brought amazing gifts to people, too. Even to him.

Jake didn’t know what to do with this information.

Lyndie arched back just enough to pat the side of his padded vest. She unzipped one of his pockets and pulled out a few pieces of carrot. Her lips twitched with amusement. “You may not have noticed this about me, but I like animals.”

“I noticed.”

“Turns out that I also like men who like animals.”

“Is that so?”

“Especially men who carry carrot slices around in their pockets for horses.”

“Does it have to be carrot slices, or would apple slices do just as well?”

“In this instance, carrot is preferred.”

“Does it have to be horses? Or would it be fine if this man you’re talking about feeds the carrots to longhorns?”

She laughed. “Only a Texan would use a longhorn in that example.”

“True.”

“In this instance, horses are preferred.”

He could read in her brown eyes how much she cared about him. To see that look on her face, for him. . . . “I’m crazy about you, Lyndie.” He tried to smile, but with his scar, it felt crooked and probably looked worse.

She didn’t seem to mind because she gripped the lapels of his vest and tugged him down for a kiss.

A week passed during which God allowed Lyndie to indulge her nurturing side. She and Jake continued to eat dinner together every single night. The calendar flipped from April into the warm days of early May. They ate at restaurants. Or ordered in and shared a meal at Jake’s loft. Or they sat side by side at Lyndie’s antique farm table and ate something she’d attempted to cook. They watched movies and TV and sports together. They talked. A few times, she worked in her studio after dinner, while he sat in the Throne of Dreams, reading. They took her dogs for walks. And once they knelt next to Lyndie’s tub to bathe the dogs and ended up getting drenched in the process.