A Wedding at the Orange Blossom Inn (15 page)

“As long as you stay near the front porch,” he said just as the kids ran out.

And then he and Emma were alone.

Suddenly, he was tongue-tied. Should he say anything about
how he'd heard from Ben and Tricia that she was going courting? He ached to have it out in the open so they could both laugh at the idea of such a thing . . . and so she wouldn't discover somehow that he'd known her intentions but never let on.

But for the life of him, he couldn't think of a way to tell her without embarrassing her. Getting to his feet, he said, “I squeezed some lemons and made lemonade. Would you care for some?”

“Please,” she said. “I guess you had to learn to make all kinds of things after Evelyn passed on to heaven.”

“I did. But she was ill for a long time before that, too.” He pulled out the ice tray from his freezer and put several cubes in each glass. “Growing boys need to eat.”

She tilted her head to one side, as she watched him pour. “Did your family not help you?”

“They did. Though, to be honest, they wanted to do more than I let them. I didn't want them to always be in the house. I needed control, you see. Taking care of my boys let me pretend that I had some control of the situation, though of course Evelyn's fate had always been in God's hands.” Handing her a glass, he said, “I love my family but I needed space, too. I guess that's another reason why the boys and I moved to Florida.”

“I understand.” Emma frowned. “But I've never been quite brave enough to refuse my family's offers of help. Or Sanford's. They are around all the time.”

“There's nothing wrong with that. It's a blessing.”

“It is,” she said slowly. “And it was. But now I feel like I'm not really very independent. What's more, I don't think they want me to be.”

“I'm sure God will help you find the right way to extricate yourself. Or not. Everyone moves at their own pace, I think.”

Her blue eyes widened and Jay stared back, thinking what a pretty shade they were. A true blue, not veering toward gray or brown or green. Her eyes were slightly almond shaped, too.

She set her glass down on the kitchen countertop. “Jay, I'm afraid I have a confession to make.”

He set his glass down, too. “What is it?”

“Well, I had a talk with Ben and Tricia this afternoon. And for some reason—I'm not rightly sure how—we started talking about their engagement and courting and then, well, me courting.”

Her last words were so hesitantly spoken, so very embarrassed sounding, he stepped closer and gently ran one calloused finger along her knuckles. “I wasna going to tell you, but Ben and Tricia told me about that conversation.”

“They told you?” she squeaked.

“They did. They were excited about the idea, you see.”

She closed her eyes. “I'm so embarrassed. If I keep my eyes closed, can we pretend I'm not here?”

He chuckled. “Not a chance.”

“Couldn't you try real hard?”

“Nope. Because I'm glad you're here, you see.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “I was glad to hear what Tricia and Ben told me.”

Her eyes popped open again. “You were?”

“
Jah
. I'm proud of you for being braver than me.”

“I wasna brave.”

“You were.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Emma, if you came over here just so your girls could say hello to my boys, that is fine with me. We will always enjoy your company and friendship. But . . .” His voice drifted off. He was warring between being as honest and brave as she had been and guarding his heart.

“But?” she prompted.

“If you really did come over because you'd like us to be closer in an . . . um, romantic way? If you'd like to see whether there could be a relationship between us—us as in you and me—I have to tell you that makes me really happy.”

“It does?” Wonder lit her voice.

As Jay nodded, he realized that he was telling the absolute truth. “There's something about you that makes me want to know you better, Emma. And it has nothing to do with the fact that we have had similar experiences with losing a spouse. It has to do with how kind you are. With the way you love that
hund
of yours, even though he has to be the worst-behaved beagle in history. It has to do with the way that you brought over supper and didn't expect even my thanks in return.”

Lowering his voice, he reached out and took one of her hands. “And it also has something to do with the fact that you have the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen in my life. And that I think all of you is just as pretty.”

In that moment, he felt as vulnerable as he'd ever been. Actually, Jay felt more fragile and uncertain than Ben probably had ever felt around Tricia, more hesitant than he'd ever felt around Evelyn. Funny how life's experiences made one wiser but also made one realize just how fragile the heart was. Now that he knew about loss, and knew how fleeting happiness could be, he was far more hesitant to put himself at risk.

She blinked again and smiled. “So you are sayin' coming over was the right decision?”

“The very best. But from now on, I think I would like to do the calling and courting. I may be rusty but I'd like to give it a try.”

She giggled, a light, girlish sound that lit up his kitchen. “That's a deal.”

Outside, the children were chattering up a storm—it was ob
vious that Ben, Mark, and Tricia had returned—but inside the kitchen, under the pale glow of a kerosene lamp, there was only a thick silence.

Jay was so struck by what had just taken place between them, he had to force himself to remain in the here and now. Otherwise he would be too tempted to reflect how one day had changed things completely for him.

As they stared at each other, the air was warm with the intangible heat of their new awareness. Emma's lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed. In the dim light, she looked as young as Tricia and just as hopeful and naïve. The sight before him made him want to pick her up and twirl her around and make a dozen promises about how he would always make her happy.

Though his mouth had suddenly become dry, he said, “Emma, may I take you out to supper on Friday night? Just the two of us?”

“You may.”

“I'll come get you at six o'clock?”

As if she was too overcome to talk, she nodded.

He was pleased. Really pleased. He reached out, needing to touch her, needing to skim a finger over her lightly flushed cheeks . . . when the back door opened and a pack of kids came roaring inside.

Instantly, the subtle tension dissipated into happy smiles and teenaged needs. Quiet had ended, replaced by talking and laughter, chattering and interruptions. Noisy boots on the hardwood floor, the clattering of bags on chairs and tables.

Life with children. Something that was just as precious to their lives as hope and romance and quiet moments filled with shy flirting.

“Emma, I'm mighty glad you came over,” Mark fairly called out over the din. “Any chance you brought us some cookies?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” she teased. “I brought all of you lots of them.”

As Jay watched Emma hand Mark a cookie from a plastic container before passing them out to all the kids, he stood to one side and smiled.

He had a date with the prettiest girl in Pinecraft on Friday night.

He felt like the luckiest guy in town.

B
everly was in the kitchen making loaves of zucchini bread on Thursday morning when the phone rang. Thinking it was sure to be Eric, she debated answering it. Recently, she'd discovered that his phone calls had become the highlight of her day. She had also, to her dismay, even begun to wonder if their friendship could eventually evolve into something more romantic. Which was just silly.

Really not good!

After all, Eric was an Englisher, and a successful financial planner. He was worldly, and had obviously dated a lot. He would never be remotely attracted to her, and she would be a fool to entertain such thoughts.

In fact, it would be best to start distancing herself from him.

On the other hand, anyone could be on the line. And, well,
she was the innkeeper, which meant she had no business ignoring a ringing telephone.

“Hello?”

“Hiya, Beverly,” her older brother Edward said. “What is going on out there in Sarasota?”

Oh! This was what she got for hoping and praying that it wasn't Eric on the line. It was worse! Now she was going to have to walk the line between defending her abilities to look after Tricia and taking the blame for letting the girl fall in love and get engaged.

Then there was the fact that she was somehow going to have to try to be supportive of both her niece and her brother, which was likely going to be impossible.

“Beverly, you there?”

“Everything is, um, moving along,” she said at last. “I'm busy keeping the inn going. Which is, well, a busy job.”

“Sounds like you've been far busier than that.” There was a definite edge to his voice now.

“Hmm?” Growing up with Edward, she'd learned it was helpful to play innocent.

“Beverly, who is this Ben? Is he really everything Tricia says he is?”

“Well, um . . .”

“And what about his family?” he added. “Tricia said his father is a widower. When did his wife pass away? What happened to her?”

“Edward, that ain't something that's any of our—”

“She said they just moved to Sarasota, too. What brought on the move? And where do they hail from?”

She was starting to realize that not only had she not done a very good job of looking out for Tricia, she had definitely not
asked enough questions about Ben. “Edward, if you have so many concerns, you should simply come down here and get the answers yourself. I'm the girl's aunt, not her parent. And I'm, you know, busy with the inn.” There, that would show him!

“That's why I called you. Me and Kathleen are getting on the bus tomorrow. We'll be there on Saturday.”

“You're coming out here to visit?” As she heard her voice, she grimaced. She'd practically squeaked.

“
Jah
. That's what I just said,” he said impatiently. “What's wrong? Do you not have room in that busy inn of yours? If not, tell me where I should stay.”

“Of course I will have a room for you both.” She was pretty sure she would. But even if she didn't, she would find them someplace, even if it meant she had to give up her own room or share with Tricia. “I'm glad you're coming down.” And, she realized, she
was
glad. Edward and Kathleen had never had the opportunity to come visit her. She'd understood, knowing he was busy with his farm. “I've missed you, Ed,” she said, voicing her thoughts.

“I feel the same way.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Kathleen has been fairly vexed with me. She's been wantin' to come down for a few weeks now.”

“I'll look forward to seeing her.”

“You'll see her soon enough. Now, give me some answers.”

“Well, let's see. Ben is a nice young man. He seems very smitten with Tricia. He's also the eldest of three sons. He looks after them and helps his father with their organic farm.” She thought of his other questions. “As for his father, I'm not sure when his wife passed on to heaven and I haven't asked. I do know he came down here to start fresh.”

“Tricia already told me most of that.”

Now, more than ever, Beverly wished she could go back and apologize to Tricia for sounding so doubtful. Not that she had changed her mind about her concerns, but it was obvious poor Tricia had already been grilled over the phone.

“If Tricia told you everything, why are you asking me?” she snapped.

“I want your thoughts about this man. Tricia acts like he's wonderful. Is he?”

Oh, for heaven's sakes! “That's not for me to say. I am not engaged to him,
Edward
.”

“Come on,
Beverly
. Do you really not care that my youngest is ready to get hitched to a man she barely knows? I would have thought you, of all people, would have cautioned her about giving in to her heart.”

For days, she'd thought the very same thing. But now, hearing her brother speak about her misalliance in the past? Well, it didn't feel too good.

In fact, she was kind of tired of being Marvin's poor ex-fiancée. “Tricia is her own woman and she is smarter than you are giving her credit for,” she replied, no longer even trying to keep the vinegar out of her voice. “As far as I can tell, Ben Hilty is a good man and he seems to care for her very much. She certainly looks happier than I've ever seen her. That says a lot, I think. And if you're wondering if he's going to break up with her before the wedding, I don't think so.”

Edward sighed. “Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”

“This isn't about me, Ed. It's about Tricia and Ben.”

After a brief pause, he mumbled. “
Jah
, that's what Kathleen said.”

He sounded so sheepish, she grinned. “I knew you married a smart woman. Now I really
can't
wait to see Kathleen.”

“We're looking forward to being there. I suppose it's still hot there?”

“Hot as July,” she said with a smile. “Bring plenty of cool clothes. And don't forget water for the bus ride. That twenty-hour ride seems to last forever.”

“I wrote that down. Okay, we'll be getting off that Pioneer Trails bus on Saturday.”

“I'll be in the parking lot waiting with the rest of Pinecraft. Does Tricia know you're coming?”

“
Nee
. I wanted to talk to you first.” For the first time, his voice sounded hesitant. “Will you tell her?”

“Of course I will. Safe travels, Edward.”

After she hung up, Beverly poured bread batter into the three lined pans on the counter, put them in the oven, and set her egg timer. Then she went to go find Tricia and deliver the news.

W
HAT SHOULD SHE WEAR?
What should she say? What should she do? Staring at the clothes in her small closet on Friday, Emma's choices became too many and the decisions dire.

It was time she got some help.

Though Emma had plenty of weeds to pull and even a sewing project to finish, she put a leash on Frankie and walked around the block toward Dorrie's house. Around noon every day, her best friend took a thirty-minute walk. Though it was hot as could be, Emma figured she and Frankie could handle it if he could keep his paws mainly on the cool grass.

They'd passed five houses and just turned up Miller Avenue when they saw her. Dorrie had on her usual: sunglasses, sporty tennis shoes, and a bright smile. Today, she was wearing a bright coral-colored dress. Frankie, recognizing Dorrie and her penchant for giving him lots of doggie treats, wagged his tail and
picked up his pace. When Dorrie saw them approaching, she waved.

“Fancy seeing you two out and about!” she said with a happy smile.

“We thought it was a good time for a walk.”

“At noon?” Dorrie stopped and looked at her carefully for a moment. “Well, it is
my
favorite walking time. How's my favorite beagle?” she asked when Frankie nudged her with his nose.

He sat down in a spot of grass beside her so she could give his head a rub—and so she could pull out a dog biscuit from a hidden pocket in her dress. Chomping away, he had the gall to look at Emma as if to say it was really too bad that she hadn't ever learned about dog biscuits.

“Gut hund,”
Dorrie murmured as Frankie crunched. When he wagged his tail, she gave him a pat and pointed to a small, shady spot under a tree in someone's front yard. “
Jah
, it is a warm one. Hop up there and take a break where it's nice and cool.”

Stunned, Emma watched Frankie do exactly as Dorrie suggested. She wasn't sure if she was impressed or jealous of Frankie's obedience. “How do you do it, Dorrie? Frankie doesn't behave that well for anyone else in the world.”

“Nee?”

“You know he doesn't.”

“Well, it's all in the dog treats. I always carry one when I go for a walk, just in case I run into Frankie.”

“Hmm.” Maybe
that
was why Frankie was always on the loose.

Still looking pleased with herself, Dorrie continued. “I bake them myself, and from my own recipe, too. Dogs love them. They're tasty.”

“Have you tried them?”

She grinned, showing off her dimples. “Of course I have. I give them to my pair.” Dorrie and her husband had two rescued greyhounds. Emma had long ago decided that those dogs were the luckiest in the state of Florida. “I just noticed that you are all alone. Where are Amber and Lace?”

“Ach, Amber was looking a little peaked this morning. I think one of her front legs is bothering her a bit.”

“I hope there's nothing wrong?”

“Nothing that a little rest and a treat or two won't help. Now, what are you doing out? I don't care what you say, you walking out and about at noon is most unusual.”

“I need your help.”

Immediately her friend's easygoing smile vanished. “Of course. Anything. What happened?”

“Jay Hilty is coming over tonight to take me to supper.”

Immediately her look of worry slipped into another beautiful smile. “Emma! Good for you!” She pulled her into a quick, fierce hug. “Isn't that good news? The best!
Wunderbaar
.”

“It is. I mean, I think it is.”

Dorrie chuckled. “Oh, it is.”

“I would feel more positive if I wasn't so nervous. I don't know which dress to wear. Or what I should say or do. Or what I
shouldn't
say or do.”

Her girlfriend looked her up and down, shaking her head in dismay. “Dear, you're a mess.”

Emma wasn't even going to try to say she wasn't. “This is true. I am. I am a complete mess.”

Dorrie turned around, leading the way to Emma's house. “Come on, Frankie,” she said. “Let's get you out of the hot sun
and settle your owner down.” As if Frankie understood every word she said, he woofed and trotted forward, leading the way home.

Once they walked inside, Dorrie went straight to Emma's bedroom, scanned her seven dresses, and pulled the tangerine-colored one off the hanger. “This one.”

“Really?” She hardly ever wore that dress. Though she liked the bright color on her daughters, she'd always thought it was a bit too flashy for a woman like herself. She was a widow and a mother of three. Surely such women didn't wear such shades of orange. “Um, I was thinking maybe the blue. Because of my eyes.”

“I'm sure he's already discovered you have pretty blue eyes, Emma. This dress is happy. And you are always tan, so it looks pretty on you, too.”

“You don't think he will think it a bit gaudy?”

“He will think you look fetching. Trust me, Emma. Tangerine.”

“Okay.
Danke
.” She carefully laid the dress on the bed. “Now, what do you think I should talk about with him?”

Her lips twitched. “Probably whatever you want to talk about, dear.”

Emma noticed that Dorrie was trying not to tease her. “I'm serious. I don't know what men like to talk about on dates. What if I say the wrong thing?”

“If you say the wrong thing then he's not the man for you.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she added, “I don't think you have a thing to worry about. Don't forget, you already are friends. He already knows you are sweet and kind.”

Sweet and kind
didn't necessarily sum up the person she wanted him to think she was. “I hope it's that easy.”

“It will be if you allow it to be. Don't make good things dif
ficult, dear. We all have enough troubles, you don't need to go borrowing them.”

“You might be right about that.”

“I know I am.” Shifting, she rested one of her hands on Emma's lemon-and-blue log-cabin quilt. “Now, how is your family taking it?”

“They don't know. I only asked my parents to watch the girls for a few hours this evening.”

“They're going to be here when Jay comes over?”

“Oh,
nee
! I asked if I could bring the girls over to their
haus
.”

Dorrie tilted her head. “And they agreed without asking the reason why?”

“I'm sure they'll ask.” Thinking of how difficult navigating that conversation was going to be, she murmured, “I'm sure they're going to ask a lot of questions.”

“They are. And I know you won't like me sayin' this, but they're going to try to convince you that you're doing the wrong thing.”

“They may be right.”

“They aren't, Emma. Even if you and Jay Hilty realize that the Lord only wants you two to be friends and nothing more, it is important that you take this first step. You need to open your heart to the possibility that you could find love again. And what's more, Sanford would want you to.”

“Do ya really think so?” Emma wanted to imagine that Sanford would be happy for her, but she just wasn't sure. She sighed. “I've tried to imagine what he would say if I told him that I was doing this.”

“I know what he would say, and I think you know, too.”