Betting on Love (8 page)

Lacy walked up to their booth before Mike could respond, which was lucky for Mike, because Drew planned to kick him hard if he’d said that woman’s name. His ire was quickly replaced with humor as he watched his friend swallow hard then look up at Lacy. She averted her gaze from Mike, and Drew grinned as her neck and cheeks blazed bright pink. “What can I get you boys?”

Drew stretched his hands out in front of him. He enjoyed watching the two of them squirm in each other’s presence. “Well, Lacy,” Drew started, “I think I’m going to try something different today. Give me the country ham and mashed potatoes.”

He handed her his menu and grinned when Mike looked up at him and wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes.

“What about you, Mike?” Her voice squeaked. “You gonna try something different?”

The woman’s tone seemed to plead with him to try something different, as if ordering a Salisbury steak instead of meat loaf would suddenly give him the courage to ask her on a date. He watched as she held her breath. For a moment, Drew felt kind of bad for Lacy. He knew she’d never in a million years ask Mike on a date first. It went against everything they’d all been raised to believe. Course, when he thought about it, he didn’t know why it was so wrong for a gal to ask a guy for dinner. It wasn’t as if it would
hurt
anything, but still he had to admit he’d rather be the one asking the girl out on the date.

Drew’s attention shifted back to his friend and Lacy as Mike handed the menu to her without looking up. “No. I’ll get the usual. Meat loaf and mashed potatoes.”

Lacy let out the breath and nodded. “Coming right up.” She tucked the menus under her arm and headed back to the kitchen.

Drew burst into laughter as he smacked the table with his hand. “The usual. Really? Mike, I would have never guessed it.”

“Laugh at me all you want, Drew. I’m not the only one avoiding women.”

Drew laughed again, but this time Mike’s words didn’t seem so comical. Over the last few weeks, he’d spent more time stewing over what Melody was thinking, doing, or feeling than he had over his farm or the home he was building. It was sobering to think Mike’s point was all too true.

Melody lifted Gracie’s baby boy out of his high chair. At five months, little Wyatt had grown so much. She wiped the dribbling of rice cereal from his lips with the M
OMMY’S
L
ITTLE
H
ELPER
bib he wore around his neck. She kissed his fat cheek then cooed at the boy. “Tell your mommy I said thanks so much for inviting me to lunch.”

Wyatt Jr. widened his mouth into a full, toothless smile. A cackle escaped as he twisted his body and grabbed at the strands of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. He was always excited after he’d gotten some food in his belly, and he absolutely adored pulling her long hair.

“We love having you over for lunch,” Gracie said as she laid plates of ham sandwiches and baked chips on the table. “Do you want me to take him so you can eat?”

“No. I like holding him.”

“But you only have another thirty minutes.”

Melody looked at the clock above the table. Her lunch hour always flew by too quickly when she was able to spend it with Gracie and Wyatt Jr.

“That’s okay. I can hold him and eat.” Melody shoved a bite of sandwich into her mouth. Little Wyatt tried to reach for her mouth as she chewed. She leaned toward him and Eskimo kissed his nose. “It’s my turn to eat now, big guy.”

Gracie sat across from her and started to talk about her morning. Melody genuinely enjoyed hearing about Wyatt’s projectile vomiting and soiled-through diapers. Even though she’d never been a huge fan of men and marriage, she’d always been drawn to children. She hated that she’d probably never have any of her own.

An image of Drew Wilson popped into her head, and she wondered for a moment what his children would look like. She envisioned three rowdy, blond-haired, stair-step boys chasing after a cow. A tiny dark-haired girl fought through the tall grass, running after the boys. She shook her head. Why would she think of that egotistical man? Sometimes the notions her mind conjured up made absolutely no sense.

Gracie continued, “This morning I woke up later than usual, and I didn’t have a chance to get my shower before Wyatt woke up. I knew I was going to be miserable for the whole day.”

After taking another big bite of sandwich, Melody tickled the baby’s chin, and he cackled again. “Was Mommy going to be miserable for you today?”

Gracie tapped the tip of Wyatt’s nose, causing him to laugh again, as she went on. “I prayed for God’s intervention.

I didn’t want to be grumpy just because I woke up late. But then he took a morning nap.” Gracie clasped her hands. “I couldn’t believe it.” She reached over and tickled Wyatt’s toes. “This little guy is a wonderful nap taker in the afternoon, but he almost never goes back down in the morning. It was like God’s precious gift to me this morning.”

Trying to respond in a supportive manner to her friend, Melody raised her eyebrows and nodded. She got so tired of the God-did-this, God-did-that stuff she was inundated with by her family and friends. It was as if these people couldn’t take a step without praising or praying to God about it.

She loved her aunt and uncle, and the friends she’d found here were some of the very best she’d ever had. She wouldn’t do anything to change them, but she really got tired of it. If Gracie lost her favorite pen, she’d pray about it and say God helped her find it. If she was nervous about taking Wyatt Jr. to the doctor for his shots, she’d pray about it and say God gave her peace. If the sun shone high and the breeze blew perfectly, she’d say praises about how good God was to them. To be honest, Melody was just plain sick of it. The whole wide world didn’t revolve around God.

“It doesn’t?”

She wanted to growl at the still, small voice that seemed to creep up within her at the weirdest moments. Every time it did, she was forced to think about if she had a few things wrong.

Over the last few weeks, she decided she did believe there was a God—or at least some kind of higher being. The sermons and the comments from her family and friends had made enough sense, and it was true that creation was entirely too intricate and too perfectly put together not to have been formed by something.

So if something did form all of creation—the oceans and mountains, the rivers and valleys, the animals and plants, and the intricate weavings of all those things—would it make sense that the world revolved around it?

Holding the baby with one hand, she rubbed her temple with the other. She’d had more headaches in the last few months than she’d had in her life, and she was still having nightmares. Only now they were about her dad leaving when she was five.

She barely remembered the man, and she definitely had no recollection of him leaving them. He’d gone in the middle of the night, when she was asleep. And yet, for several nights in a row, she’d envisioned him walking out the door and not looking behind him in her dreams.

She’d begun to dread nighttime. She’d grown weary of asking herself why God allowed so many bad things to happen. Now she’d have new questions to invade her thoughts:
Does the world revolve around God? And if the world does revolve around Him, then is Gracie’s approach of talking to Him and about Him every day the right way to have a relationship with Him? But again, if the world revolves around God, why does He allow bad things to happen?

Melody scrunched her nose. It was like a constant circle of unanswered questions. Her brain had never worked this hard before moving to River Run, even when she was learning all she needed to know about mechanics. The pulsing in her temple deepened. “Gracie, do you have any ibuprofen?”

“Sure.” Gracie got up and walked to the cabinet. “You have another headache?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you should see a doctor.” Gracie grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and handed it to Melody. “You’ve been looking tired a lot lately.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Melody placed both pills in her mouth and with one swig of water swallowed them down. Hopefully, they would kick in soon after she got back to AJ’s garage. She still had a long day ahead of her with a transmission to fix, and she wanted to look over Uncle Roy’s tractor engine one more time. In only a few days, she’d be whipping up on Drew at the fairgrounds.

“I know you may not…”

Melody looked up at her friend when she started to talk and then stopped. Gracie bit her bottom lip as if unsure if she should continue. Melody furrowed her eyebrows. “We’re friends. You can tell me anything. What’s wrong?”

“I was just wondering if you’d let me pray for you.”

Melody shrugged. “I don’t care. Pray all you want. I’m getting ready to go.”

Gracie shook her head. “No. I mean right now. Before you leave. Out loud.”

Melody’s body stiffened, and she let out a long breath. It was one thing to sit through a church service and bow her head when the pastor told her to or to sit at the dinner table while someone prayed over the food, but to actually have Gracie pray for her—Melody wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She gazed over at Gracie, whose expression seemed to plead for Melody to allow her to do it. With a long sigh, Melody nodded. “Okay.”

A smile brightened Gracie’s face, and before Melody could protest, she grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Oh dear Jesus, I praise You for my wonderful friend, Melody. I love her so much, Lord. I’m so glad she moved to River Run. Thank You that she comes and eats lunch with Wyatt and me.”

Melody had to clear her throat. Tears started to pool in her eyes. Gracie was thankful she came over for lunch? It was the highlight of Melody’s day to be able to see them.

Gracie continued, “She’s been having headaches, Lord. A lot of them. And she looks tired, God. I don’t know what is causing all this, but I pray You will heal Melody. Draw her close to Yourself. Thank You, Jesus. Amen.”

Melody had to swallow and blink several times to keep from crying outright in front of Gracie. She handed the baby to his mother and grabbed her coveralls off the chair. After slipping back into the grease-covered garment, she nodded to her friend. “Thanks, Gracie.”

Before Gracie could wrap her in a hug, which Melody knew would be coming if she didn’t get out of that house fast enough, Melody left. A knife seemed to be stuck in her heart, and it twisted with every step she took. The pulsing in her head grew stronger, and either God wasn’t listening or He was saying no to Gracie’s request. Either way, Melody was sure of one thing: Gracie had something that she was beginning to realize she wanted. A relationship with God.

Melody rolled onto her back and stretched her arms as far as she could above her head. The sun peeked through the cracks of the closed blinds. Groggy, she gazed at the alarm clock on the nightstand.
Nine o’clock!

She sat up in a hurry and flung her legs over the bed.
I’m late for work.
The sleep fuzzies in her brain began to clear, and she remembered she didn’t have to work today. She smiled just before a yawn took over her mouth.

Hopping off the bed, she padded across the room and peered out her upstairs bedroom window. Her aunt’s car was gone. She’d probably already headed to the store for her weekly grocery trip.

She drank in the beautiful countryside just across the road. Full, lush trees blanketed the hillside and seemed to roll like waves atop the ground and along the sky. She could see Nick and Addy’s house and barn just before the tree line. Endless rows of wooden fences spread out before her eyes with more cows than she could count grazing in the fields.

Running her fingers through her matted hair, an overwhelming sense of refreshment welled within her. She’d slept the whole night without a nightmare. No would-be rapist threatening her. No father walking out. For the first time in weeks, she felt rested.
I wonder if Gracie’s prayer had anything to do with it.
She blinked as she pushed the thought aside.

Normally she’d head straight to the shower and get ready for her day before heading to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. But she loved to sit on the back deck and look out at her aunt’s full vegetable and herb garden. The flower garden was equally amazing, bursting in reds, yellows, whites, and purples. She’d grown to need the time she spent basking in the early morning’s slight breeze while she sipped her java. If she waited until after a shower, the sun would be too hot to enjoy the coffee on the deck. She grabbed the bright pink fuzzy robe her aunt had given her as a hand-me-down and slipped into it.

Knowing her uncle was most likely watching one of the morning news shows or playing on his Wii, Melody traipsed down the stairs then hollered down the hall, “Uncle Roy, I can’t believe I slept this late.”

She walked into the living room. He was sitting in his recliner watching a news show, just as she expected. But he was resting at an odd angle, slightly hunched to one side with his elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his hand cupping the side of his face.

Her heartbeat quickened, and her stomach churned at the pensive expression on his face. “Uncle Roy, are you all right?”