At Home in His Heart (11 page)

A
lready Thursday afternoon and she’d been so flustered with this whole barbecue thing that Sandi had forgotten to get a baby sitter for Saturday night. She’d been so intent on what she’d say and how she’d say it to get Bryce to rethink the museum increase that she’d fumbled a critical aspect of the entire evening. Unfortunately, if she recalled correctly, Joe Diaz didn’t have to work this weekend, so Meg wasn’t an option. They’d want family time. Sharon Dixon would be out of town.

Cassidy Donne. That was it. One of her students. She’d announced on the last day of school that she was saving for a trip to England so she planned to babysit her heart out this summer. Perfect.

But during her first break between a steady stream of Warehouse customers, a call to her student proved futile. Cassidy suggested a couple of friends, but they, too, were booked Saturday night.

Well, she’d think of something. LeAnne maybe? She’d volunteered to keep Gina for the entire summer, but sentencing the active little girl to long afternoons with her grandma hadn’t seemed the wisest alternative. And if she asked LeAnne to babysit, wouldn’t she want to know why? Not a good idea.

She glanced around the Warehouse’s spacious interior,
making sure no customers required her attention, then focused on tidying up at the front counter. Even now, days since her encounter with Bryce in the park, she didn’t know why she’d committed herself to accompanying him. Well, not accompanying him exactly. She’d told him she’d meet him there.

She cringed. Was that rude? She was so out of practice with dating etiquette, having not been on one—except with Keith—since he’d responded to her letter while she was in college. But then this wasn’t really a date. Meeting Bryce left them both with open options to come and go as they pleased. If there was a woman among his friends who liked him or whom he liked, it wouldn’t be as if they’d shown up together. Or giving the impression that they were a couple.

What an idiot she was to have pushed Bryce into this.

Then another thought struck her. What would she wear to meet his friends? Jeans? Shorts? A sundress? She didn’t have anything new. She’d been scrimping and saving every dime from her Warehouse job the past several years to buy museum display cases. Maybe she and Gina could run over to Show Low, check out the shops. But would something that looked new imply to others—to Bryce—that this
was
a date?

The same overactive butterflies that had assaulted the insides of her stomach since Monday morning renewed their battering-ram efforts.

“Good afternoon, Sandi.”

Startled, she swung to face her mother-in-law. Guilty warmth crept up her neck. She had a not-a-date with a man LeAnne despised.

“Hi. What brings you in today?”

“I dropped off a pair of slacks at the dry cleaner and thought I’d pop in to see if you were working this afternoon.”

“Yep, I’m here.”

“And while I’m here I may as well let you know—a dear friend of mine called this morning. She’s coming up from the
Valley tomorrow to pick up a rocking chair I found for her at that antique shop down the street. She’ll head home Saturday morning, but that conflicts with our Friday get-together. So let’s shift our time to Saturday.”

A free Friday night? Her heart lightened, but only momentarily. “This Saturday?”

“That’s not convenient?”

Steady, girl. Keep it vague.
“I’m getting together with friends.”

“Oh?”

She sounded as if she was surprised Sandi had any. “Friends of friends, actually. A cookout at Casey Lake.”

“And Gina’s going, too?”

“Actually, no. It’s an adult gathering.” She took a deep breath. “Did you want to babysit?”

There, she’d asked her.

LeAnne’s expression warmed. “You know I’m always more than happy to spend time with my granddaughter.”

“Gina enjoys her time with you, too.”

Usually.

“So who are these friends of friends? Like a church group?”

LeAnne
would
have to ask. She herself hadn’t asked Bryce that question because she didn’t want him to take it as rudeness on her part, as if checking them out for suitability after she’d made that blunder involving concern for her reputation.

To Sandi’s relief, a customer approached. With seeming reluctance, LeAnne moved away to peruse a rack of postcards. With any luck, the break in conversation would be a sufficient distraction to get her off the topic she’d honed in on as if sensing her daughter-in-law was hiding something.

Which she was. Sort of.

Sandi took her time ringing up the armload of outdoor gear, chatting with the customer, recommending camping sites as if she were an outdoor pro. In reality, she’d camped only once
in her life. With Keith. It had been a disaster. But she’d all but memorized the chamber of commerce guide so she could intelligently advise visitors on the community’s many opportunities for outdoor recreation.

All the while, though, she kept a furtive eye on her mother-in-law, hoping she’d grow impatient with the chitchat and scurry off to the next event in her always busy schedule. But the moment the satisfied customer headed to the shop door, LeAnne returned to the counter, her manicured hand resting on the polished surface. Click. Click. Click.

“So who is this friend who has these friends?”

Think fast.
“Mae Harding—who lives above the museum—suggested I go. She thinks I need to get out more often with adults my age.”

“Like with her grandson?” LeAnne’s voice came low and sharp, her gaze piercing.

Sandi lowered her own voice. “I’m meeting him and some of his friends at the lake. It’s not a date or anything even remotely close to one.”

“
His
friends? My land, Sandi, what are you thinking? Have you no concept of how quickly an attractive young woman can shred a spotless reputation in this town? I can’t believe you’d be so careless with your—and Keith’s—hard-earned standing in the community. With little Gina’s.”

“There’s no reason for concern. I’ll be in a public place in broad daylight.” Then again, who
were
Bryce’s friends? It hadn’t dawned on her that his local chums might be every bit as rowdy as those he associated with while in the military.

“Reconsider, Sandi. This is foolishness.”

“I already agreed to go.” She’d turned him down once. She couldn’t do it again. Besides, the museum’s future was at stake.

LeAnne braced herself on the checkout counter. “Sweetheart, I understand that as a single parent you feel isolated from your peers. Feel the weight of responsibility on your
young shoulders. Feel as if the world is passing you by while everyone else is having a good time. But that’s the price you sometimes have to pay. For the sake of your husband’s memory. Your daughter’s future.”

“I’m sure it will be okay. I don’t see any way to get out of it now.”

“You pick up the phone and—” LeAnne’s lips tightened. Then she stepped back from the counter. “I can’t be a party to this and babysit Gina for you. So count me out of the equation.”

Raising a disapproving brow at Sandi, she strode briskly out the door.

Was LeAnne right? What if the gathering turned out to be like one of those off-campus picnics in college that deteriorated as the sun set. What if she found herself surrounded by drinking. Drugs. Even if she left immediately, what might the outcome be if she were thought to be a part of that?

Surely Bryce wouldn’t invite her to something of that nature, would he? But was she willing to risk losing her hard-earned relationship with Keith’s beloved mom just to prove a point?

She took a ragged breath. She owed Keith so much. Had no other choice. She’d have to beg off.

Thursday night Bryce hung up the phone on his grandma’s kitchen wall and ran a hand through his still shower-damp hair.

If that didn’t beat all. Sandi had turned him down. Again. Twice for the same event. If this kept up, he’d develop some kind of inferiority complex. From the time he’d started going out in high school, he’d never been turned down for a date.

Not that this was a date.

Nevertheless, the rejection stung.

“She dumped you?”

Not having his cell phone number, Sandi had called the
house, so the entire minute-and-a-half conversation played out to the eavesdropping ears of his granny. He again ran his hand through his hair.

“You could see for yourself, right at the beginning, that she wasn’t jumping up and down with excitement when I asked her to go with me.”

“That’s because of the way you asked. Like somebody’d put a gun to your head to get the words out of your mouth.”

He gave her a significant look. “I think it was pretty clear to both Sandi and me who was holding that gun.”

Sandi had been apologetic enough in their brief phone conversation. But she sounded nervous. Almost as if afraid he’d challenge her for an explanation that was more explicit than the vague one she offered. He didn’t challenge her, though. He was smart enough to recognize a brush-off.

“Maybe something
did
come up,” Grandma assured. “Something legitimate.”

He shrugged.

But Grandma could be right. Sandi wanted only to
meet
him at the lake, didn’t she? Maybe because there was some other guy she was sweet on. She didn’t want to be seen with Keith’s old buddy and scare the other dude off. Maybe she’d gotten a genuine date for Saturday night?

He mulled that revelation for a moment, rolling it around in his mind. Who? That new city councilman, Jake Talford? Maybe that new guy who’d shown up at church last week?

Not that it was any of his business, but in Keith’s absence, he couldn’t help but feel protective of Sandi. Lots of jerks out there looking to take advantage of nice women. He himself might not have settled down with any of his lady friends from the past, but he sure had done his best not to be a jerk. But if any unsavory sort hooked up with Sandi Bradshaw, they might get a rude awakening when she pulled out that little red note-
book of hers and outlined the direction their life would take henceforth. All the way to the grave.

“Why are you grinning?” Grandma Mae placed her hands on her hips, eyes sharp. “You seem pretty tickled for a man who just got turned down.”

He shook his head, but couldn’t suppress the smile. The thought of some unsuspecting male getting ambushed by Widow Bradshaw was worth smiling about. But no, he wasn’t tickled at a turndown. He’d been looking forward to spending an evening with her. Would have been better than showing up stag, that’s for sure. Now he’d be a sitting duck for Matchmaker Meg.

“Well, I hope this makes you smile, as well.” Grandma waved a slip of paper. “I took the message while you were showering. Don’t know why he didn’t call your cell.”

She handed him a name and phone number jotted down in her familiar script.

Brenden Gerrard. The fire chief.

This could be the make-it-or-break-it call.

“S
o are we all in agreement then?” Sandi stood in front of the historical society members gathered in the museum kitchen Monday night. “It’s short notice to pull off something like this with the Fourth almost on top of us.”

“We can do it,” Earl assured, as if he’d be the one racing to get the appropriate permits, cleaning out the society’s makeshift vending trailer, shopping for the best deal on ingredients—and sweating over hot grills to produce enough Navajo fry bread to keep equine center event-goers satisfied.

She owed Trey Kenton big-time for letting them slip in at the midnight hour to open a concession outside the arena. He’d even donated a side of beef for the flavorful, oversize tacos that were a regional favorite. Due to a major remodeling glitch, the venue for a three-day Fourth of July horse show scheduled in air-conditioned comfort in the Valley of the Sun had been shifted to Canyon Springs. The show sponsors sought, and found, just what they were looking for in the High Country Equine Center, and Trey hoped they’d prefer the new site in the future, as well.

“In my opinion,” Sharlene Odel said, rising to her feet as she raised her voice above the excited chatter of the society
members, “we wouldn’t be in this predicament if the board had been taking care of business all along.”

The chatter stilled. All eyes turned to Sharlene.

Then Sandi.

She’d been expecting something like this. No doubt Sharlene sensed an opportunity to drive a wedge into the for-the-most-part supportive camaraderie of the society. The seldom-seen Fran had shown up today, too. And Dana.

Coincidence? Not likely.

With a silent prayer she turned to Sharlene.

“Shar has a very good point. It’s imperative that all our members take an interest in the financial health of our organization, not just relying on the elected board to carry the entire burden.”

She nodded toward the society’s treasurer. “Becky Ortiz is distributing printouts of our income and expenditures over the last two years. Last winter’s audit report, as well. I encourage all of you to examine them at your leisure and provide feedback on how we can better manage our resources.”

Sharlene, minus her Pekingese today, flashed Dana and Fran a disgruntled look. She snagged one of the sheets from Becky and held it up. “This is all nice and good. But legitimate concerns can still be raised as to the quality of a leadership that permitted our finances to fall into such a dismal state.”

Cate Landreth stood, hackles almost visibly rising. Cate wasn’t afraid of anyone, not even a well-entrenched member of Canyon Springs society. “No one could have anticipated the economic downturn, the subsequent need for Mae Harding to increase the museum rent or that the city would cut our funding.”

“Nevertheless,” Shar persisted, “with upcoming elections in September, I appeal to the membership to remember where we were two years ago when we elected the current board—and where we find ourselves today.”

“Maybe if you’d have bothered to come to a meeting occasionally, Shar,” Earl voiced in a lazy drawl, “you could have put that twenty-twenty hindsight of yours to good use and saved us from ourselves.”

Heads nodded around the room in agreement. Voices whispered support.

Sharlene looked down a haughty nose at the impertinent speaker, no doubt preparing to put him in his place, but Sandi stepped in before things could escalate further.

“Before feelings get hurt or words are said that we might regret—” she knew all about that “—let’s focus on our fundraising plans. Regardless of how we got here, we need this event to be a success.”

She couldn’t wrap things up and get out of there fast enough. Sharlene and her two supporters departed first, and Sandi hurried the others out behind them, insisting she couldn’t linger for small talk, but needed to be on her way to pick up Gina. She didn’t want to get sucked into dissing Sharlene or risk further splitting the association into factions with members feeling they needed to take sides.

When the last car pulled out, she locked up and stepped out into the darkness of the front porch. One more thing to add to her checklist—have Bryce replace that burned-out bulb. But at least she’d gotten through the evening without bloodshed.

Thank You, Lord.

“Good evening, Sandi.”

Her heart shot up to her throat and it was all she could do not to stagger back from the shadowed corner from where the voice had come. She took a deep breath as recognition dawned.

Bryce.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He rose from where he’d been seated on one of the wooden benches, obscured by the shadow
of a large pine blocking the streetlight, and stepped into the slightly more illuminated portion of the porch next to her.

“What are you doing out here?” Her heart continued pounding an erratic beat.

“I’m just kickin’ back, enjoying the night. Town settles down after dark. Good time to come out and take pleasure in God’s handiwork. Count my blessings.”

That sure didn’t sound like the man her husband used to tell her about.

“I see.” Acutely aware of his too-close proximity, her words sounded almost breathless even to her own ears. She took a step back. “Well, don’t let me interrupt you. I’m sure living in the tiny apartment up there, you don’t get a lot of privacy.”

He chuckled, a low, appealing sound that caressed her ears. Made her, against her will, long to draw closer.

“That’s a fact. But I don’t feel the confinement so much in the summer months when I can spend a good deal of time outdoors.” He chuckled again, studying her face in the dim light. It warmed under his probing eyes. He took a deep breath, his broad chest rising and falling. Such a big man. Strong. Reassuring. “So, how’s museum business going? Saw tonight’s crowd leave. Sharlene still leading a lynch mob?”

She gave herself a mental shake, drawing her wandering thoughts back to the conversation. “Cate Landreth backed her down tonight and I threw myself into the fray before fists started flying. I’m sure we haven’t heard the last of her, but for the time being we’re moving forward.”

“I sure am sorry she’s giving you a hard time. Grandma Mae says you’ve been devoted to the museum ever since Keith’s passing. Have really kept it going.”

“I’ve tried anyway.” She shifted restlessly. “So how was the cookout?”

Ugh. Why’d she pick that topic? Reminding him of her rude about-face.

“Had a great time. Good food and good company. Kara’s sure sweet on that Kenton fellow. I could tell something was going on between those two even early last winter. And Meg and Joe—”

“Diaz?”

“Yeah, Diaz. Several of their friends, including a few I knew from my growing-up years. The pastor and his wife, too.”

Inwardly she groaned. The preacher and his wife? And she’d let her mother-in-law fill her with ridiculous, unfounded fears that sent her into a tailspin.

“I know I said it before, Bryce, but I’m really sorry for backing out on you at the last minute.”

He didn’t know the half of it.

He raised a halting hand. “No explanations needed.”

“I’d fully intended to go, but then—” There was no point in trying to explain. What could she say?
My mother-in-law can’t stand you and I’m incapable of making my own decisions?
“But thanks for the invitation.”

“Some other time, maybe.” He folded his arms across his chest, a smile widening. “I was on my best behavior Saturday night, so I think they’ll invite me again.”

“Interesting how you and Joe left town for the military, saw the wonders of the world, and still came back here.”

“And you’re thinking to yourself, ‘Self, Joe was a navy corpsman and now he’s a paramedic, a shining example to all. Bryce on the other hand, is shoveling manure, building fences and camping out with his poor old granny.’”

That’s exactly what she’d been thinking. Thank goodness in the dim light her blush wouldn’t betray her. “To each his own.”

He leaned in closer and her heart skittered.

“Just to set your mind at ease, Sandi, I’m caught between a rock and a hard place with the city’s budget-balancing
quandary. I need to be here in town for Grandma—so she doesn’t have to pull up roots and move back to her no-good family in Ohio. But as you heard at the council meeting, several job openings are on hold indefinitely.”

So that was what he was doing, killing time until a position opened up? That’s why he needed additional income from the museum in the interim? She racked her brain for what was said at the council meeting. “The police department? Fire?”

“Firefighter,” he said with evident satisfaction. “I’d done some of that when I first joined the army. Thought I’d found my calling. Then gradually those roles were phased out for the most part, contracted out. But I’d kept it in mind for once I left the service, if they’d still take an old guy like me.”

“I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, now you know. But keep it to yourself, will you? The fire chief assured me again that the position’s mine if he has anything to say about it. He’s negotiating with the city for funding. It’s looking good. But I don’t want to go around town acting like I’m a shoo-in.”

“I won’t say a word.” But why was he telling her this at all? As if what she thought of him held some importance. Was it because he still thought she’d turned down his invitation for fear of soiling her reputation? Hadn’t wanted to be seen with him where they might be mistaken as a couple? “That was a big sacrifice to quit the army to come back here for your grandma.”

“I still relive the nightmare of that call rousting me out of my sleep half a world away. It’s been hard to face the fact she isn’t as invincible as I believed her to be as a kid.”

“But you haven’t been a kid for a long time, have you?”

“I guess not.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“And I her. I’d been entertaining doubts of reenlisting anyway and that call sealed the deal.” A faint smile touched his
lips. “She pitched a fit when she found out, but by then it was too late to stop me. When she was finally released from the Pine Country Care facility, I was waiting for her.”

“You considered leaving the army before Mae’s injury? You were in for—what?—fifteen years?”

His open expression closed down as if realizing he’d shared too much. For a flashing second she pictured him as he’d been as a kid. Mr. Tough Guy. Armor in place. Strong jaw jutting, determined not to let the world see where it hurt.

But it did.

She could see that much—and her heart went out to the little boy he’d been. The man he was.

Even in the dim light he must have read something in her eyes for he stepped back. Rubbing the palm of his hand along his bearded jawline, he glanced in the direction of the front door. “I suppose you’re adding that burned-out lightbulb to my ‘to do’ list?”

“Of course.”

“That’s what I figured.”

Bryce slammed the posthole digger into the hard-packed soil with all his might. Winced when it slammed into another buried bowling ball-size rock, sending a jarring wave of painful sensation up his arms and into his shoulders.

He muttered under his breath, knowing it wasn’t the rock-hard earth that troubled him, but the big, beautiful eyes of Sandi Bradshaw looking at him as if she could see straight into his soul. Under her gentle prodding, he’d been a regular windbag the other night. Mr. Macho Firefighter, making sure she knew he wasn’t the loser he suspected she thought he was. For whatever reason, wanting to ensure she knew he was every bit as worthy of her attention as that other guy, whoever he was. The one who got her to back out of going to the cookout at Casey Lake.

But then she had to go and ask why he’d wanted to leave the service. Had he confessed, the truth of it would leave him less than heroic in her eyes. No woman wanted to hear a man say fear had taken hold of him. Fear that he was burning out. Was going numb inside. That he’d so skillfully, determinedly, built walls around his mind and his heart to block the realities of his past, of war, that feeling nothing had become a desirable norm.

Stepping back to view his morning’s labor, he pulled out a handkerchief, tipped back his hat and wiped his brow. Trey said he’d rent one of those powered posthole diggers for him, but Bryce wanted no part of that. He needed to stay in shape if he expected to pass the physical part of the firefighting requirements. He wasn’t much of a gym club kind of guy. Manual labor suited him just fine.

Or it did most of the time.

He looked up at the sound of a truck pulling up alongside the acreage under the shade of one of the towering pines. Joe Diaz cut the engine and rolled down the window on the passenger side. Hollered out the window.

“How’s it going? Looks like hot work.”

Bryce rested his forearms atop the posthole digger handles. “It is at that.”

“Hey, in case you’re interested, the men’s group is meeting tonight. Seven o’clock, my place. Meg’s fixing Sharon Dixon’s blue-ribbon-winning apple pie for us. You’re welcome to come.”

Bryce gave his forehead another swipe, then stuffed the handkerchief in his back pocket. Adjusted his hat and sauntered over to the truck. “I’m going through that workbook you’re using for the study. Doin’ okay until I hit that submission stuff. Don’t get me wrong, we’re both military men, so we understand the concept of submitting to authority, to God. But
can you tell me, Joe—what’s up with this mutual submission stuff? I mean, you let Meg boss you around?”

Joe didn’t laugh outright, but Bryce didn’t miss the suppressed smile.

“Mutual submission isn’t about bossing, Bryce, it’s about respecting another person’s opinions. Allowing them to have a voice, make choices and take the lead on things where God’s gifted them to be the better decision maker. It’s about not always having your own way.”

Bryce leaned his forearms on the lower window rim of the passenger-side window. “I thought the man was supposed to take the lead. You know, head of the household.”

“That’s true. And way too many men abdicate their responsibilities, forcing women to step in and take over the husband’s role so the home will run smoothly—then the men complain about it. But a man’s also supposed to love his wife as Christ loves the church—pretty tall order—and the Bible’s real clear that submission to a spouse isn’t just the woman’s role.”