Child of Grace (Love Inspired) (10 page)

He was hiding behind them. Just as she’d hidden behind hers at their first meeting. Interesting.

“Hannah told me you saw your OB this week. I noticed you’ve been looking tired. Is everything okay?”

Whoa!

That personal comment wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

Her defenses slammed back into place with the resounding clang of a prison lockdown.

“Yes. Everything’s fine.” Her voice tightened, as did her hold on the mug.

Please, Lord! Make him back off! I don’t want to talk about this.

Unfortunately, God didn’t seem to be tuned in to her frequency today.

“Listen…I don’t want to pry, Kelsey, but we’re neighbors. Temporarily, anyway. And I know you’re alone. Hannah told me you’re not married, and that the baby’s father is out of the picture.” He lifted his hand to his glasses. Hesitated. Then took them off.

All at once she found herself drowning in warm, brown eyes that were awash with empathy and caring.

“So I wanted to tell you that if you need anything while I’m here, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Pressure built in her throat, behind her eyes, and she gritted her teeth. She was not going to cry! She was not going to fall apart just because a nice man had made a kind offer.

But much to her dismay, a tear managed to leak out and trickle down her cheek.

Before she could swipe it away, Luke reached over and did it for her with a lean finger, his tender touch melting her heart.

“What’s wrong, Kelsey? Can you tell me?”

Choking back a sob, she shook her head and stood, the uneven sand only partly to blame for her unsteadiness. Without bothering to fold up her chair, she stumbled toward the path in the tall grass.

“Kelsey! Wait!”

She ignored Luke’s call and plunged into the grass, praying he wouldn’t follow.

At the landing halfway up, she risked a glance back toward the beach while she caught her breath. Luke was standing by his chair, the morning sun bronzing his face as he looked up toward her. His tall, stalwart form reminded her of the prince heroes who’d peopled the fairy tales she’d devoured as a child.

But she’d given those stories up years ago, much preferring to take care of herself rather than rely on a man. She liked being strong. In control of her life. Successful in her own right.

Besides, knights on white horses were in short supply in today’s world.

And happy endings were even more rare, as divorce statistics proved.

She turned away from Luke and continued up the steps—a trek that was becoming more difficult with each passing day. But she could deal with it. Or any other challenge that came her way.

Yet, for one fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like to have a man like Luke by her side. Not to hold her up, but to hold her hand.

In the next instant, she ruthlessly quashed that thought.

For given her situation, it, too, was the stuff of fairy tales.

As Kelsey disappeared from view, Luke raked his fingers through his hair.

Talk about a bust.

Expelling a frustrated breath, he sank back into his beach chair, closed his eyes and folded his hands on his stomach. So much for following Hannah’s advice about letting Kelsey know he was interested in her life. He’d tried to open the door to some confidences, but she’d slammed it in his face. And bolted as fast as a startled deer.

Now he was back to square one. He wouldn’t be surprised if the next time they met, every bit of the wariness she’d exhibited at their first encounter would be back in place.

The prospect left a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“You blew it, didn’t you?”

At Hannah’s comment, Luke stifled a groan and opened his eyes. She stood beside him, hands on hips, shaking her head in disgust.

“I set you up perfectly. All you had to do was ask a few discreet, caring questions about the baby.” She crossed her arms. “So what did you say, anyway? I saw her take off like a bat out of…you know where. It must have been bad.”

“Since when did you become Dr. Phil?”

She wrinkled her brow. “Who?”

Wrong demographic. Kids her age probably had their own relationship guru. He waved her into her seat. “Let it go, Hannah. I don’t need advice about my love life.”

“Ah-ha! You admit you’re falling in love. Now we’re getting somewhere.” She dropped down onto the side of her chair, putting them at eye level.

“I’m not admitting anything.” He shot her a disgruntled look.

“Fine. Whatever. So what did you say to her?” She leaned toward him, posture intent.

Luke shifted in his chair. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to like his response. But it was also clear she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. He’d have to throw her a few crumbs.

“I followed your advice about letting her know I cared. I told her I knew she wasn’t married, and that if she needed anything while I was here, all she had to do was ask.”

In the silence that followed, Hannah squinted at him. “That’s it?”

He replayed the conversation in his mind. “I also told her she looked tired, and I asked if everything was okay.”

She waited, as if she expected him to continue. When he didn’t, she shook her head and flopped back in her chair. As if he were a hopeless case.

“Did you tell her anything about yourself, Luke?”

“Like what?”

“Like anything that would give her a glimpse into who you are. Into what makes you tick.”

“You didn’t mention that yesterday.”

“I didn’t think I had to. It’s Relationships 101. If you don’t share with another person and show you trust them with your secrets, how do you expect them to trust you with theirs?”

Okay. She had a point. But being tutored on romance by a seventeen-year-old was bruising his ego. Time to go on the defensive.

“You know, I’ve gotten along fine without your advice for the twenty-plus years I’ve been dating. I’ve never had any trouble relating to the women I went out with.”

“Yeah? Then how come you’re still single?”

Checkmate.

He grasped at the excuse he’d always given. “I was too busy for romance in medical school. And my army career didn’t lend itself to commitments.”

“The right woman would have changed your mind about that. If you’d ever let anyone get close enough to see into your heart. You can’t fall in love or develop a real friendship if you keep all your emotions locked up tight.”

A muscle clenched in Luke’s jaw, and he averted his head to stare out over the water, now sparkling in the morning sun as if sprinkled by diamonds.

“Maybe not. But it’s the only way to survive when you witness death and destruction every day. When you deal with young men and women whose lives are snuffed out or forever changed in an instant by a bullet or by fire from an explosion or by a roadside bomb. You learn not to feel too deeply. Not to invest too much of yourself. Because if you let yourself feel too much, you die, too. Little by little, day by day, until the heart that once beat with passion is an empty shell. So you lock it up to protect it. And it’s hard to unlock once it’s been sealed.” His voice hoarsened, and he closed his eyes, fighting for control.

After a few seconds, he felt a gentle touch on his arm.

Blinking away the moisture that clouded his vision, he swallowed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Her tone was soft. Sympathetic. And when he turned his head toward her, her eyes were moist as well. “That’s what I’m talking about, Luke. What you just did. It’s okay to share that with people you care about. It’s what helps them feel close to you. And love you. Could you use a hug, maybe?”

Once more his throat tightened. Without speaking, he rose and held out his arms. Hannah stepped in, and he folded her close.

As he clung to her in the quiet morning, the silence broken only by the lap of waves on the shore and the rustle of the tall grass behind the beach, swaying in the wind, he let out a long, unsteady breath. It had been years since anyone had comforted him like this. And it felt good.

“From the time you came home on your first leave when I was eight, looking all impressive in your uniform, you were my hero.” Hannah’s voice was muffled against his chest. “You still are.”

He shook his head. “I’m no hero, Hannah.”

“Then why did the army give you the Silver Star, among other medals?”

“I just did what I had to do.”

“With honor and courage. And that makes you a hero in my book. Not to mention what you’re doing for Carlos.” She pulled back and searched his face. “Do you remember how in awe of you I was on that first leave?”

A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he pictured the little blonde pixie who’d followed him everywhere. “I remember I couldn’t shake you.”

She made a face and nudged him with her shoulder. “I hung on your every word. And I was desperate to impress you. To show you I was courageous, too. That’s why I climbed the apple tree out back. Instead, I fell on my face and got a bloody nose. Do you remember that?”

The image of Hannah’s tear-streaked cheeks niggled at the edge of his memory. “Vaguely.”

“It’s a vivid memory for me. And what you said stuck with me all these years, too. After you extracted a promise from me never to climb that tree again, you sat me on your knee and said, ‘Being brave isn’t about doing a dangerous thing, Hannah. It’s about doing the right thing. Even when it’s hard.’”

“I said that?”

“Yeah. I guess it was one of your rare profound moments.” She smirked at him, then grew more serious. “But it was good advice, Luke. And maybe it applies to Kelsey.”

The conversation had come full circle.

“I’m not sure what the right thing is with her.”

“That, dear brother, is where prayer comes in. Ask God.” With one final squeeze, she extricated herself from his arms and folded up her chair. “You ready to call it a morning? I told Dorothy I’d be there by noon today to help with the lunch rush.”

“Yeah.” He picked up his own chair as well as Kelsey’s and tucked them under one arm. Then he retrieved his coffee and his neighbor’s lidded, insulated mug. The white residue around the lip suggested it contained milk.

As he trudged through the tall grass behind Hannah and started up the steps, her advice replayed in his mind.
Ask God.
It was the same advice Carlos had always dispensed. Except the young medic had used more colloquial language:
when in doubt, give God a shout.
And it had always been delivered with a grin.

Well, Luke had plenty of doubts when it came to Kelsey. Should he try again to connect? Make the first move toward sharing confidences? Take the risk of getting involved, knowing he was leaving in four short weeks?

At the top of the steps, he stopped and glanced toward her cottage. It showed no signs of life. But she was inside. No way could she have gotten ready for work and left already.

“Hannah, I’m going to drop Kelsey’s stuff off at her house.”

His sister acknowledged his comment with a wave and kept moving toward their deck.

Detouring toward his neighbor’s, Luke circled around the small cluster of trees rather than cutting through them. If she was outside, by chance, he didn’t want to startle her. Been there, done that.

But the yard and screened porch were deserted. Leaning the chair against the railing beside the two steps, he opened the porch door and set the mug inside. Away from the bugs.

As he turned to leave, he thought he detected a flutter in the curtains at one of the back windows. Was she watching him? Hoping he’d knock—or praying he’d leave? In their short acquaintance, he’d seen both loneliness and fear in her eyes. Which dominated at the moment?

Instead of waiting to find out, Luke retraced his steps across the lawn. Kelsey needed to be receptive to a second overture, or it would fail as dismally as his clumsy earlier effort had. And his instincts told him today wasn’t the day to try again.

Nor was he up for the kind of soul-baring Hannah seemed to think it would take to earn Kelsey’s trust. Not yet. He’d have to work himself into that mind-set.

But he didn’t have a lot of time. The clock was ticking on his stay here.

After ascending the steps to his deck, Luke paused at the railing to look once more at the horizon, where sky and sea met. And to follow the advice Hannah and Carlos agreed upon.

If you want me to get involved here, Lord, please give me an opportunity to win Kelsey’s trust. And if You do that, please also give me the courage to be the hero Hannah thinks I am.

“T
ea break!”

At Dorothy’s announcement, Kelsey looked up from the quilt rack where she was trying to make some headway on a commission due at the end of August—a short three weeks away.

“You sound especially cheery today. Let’s see…” Kelsey leaned back in her chair and regarded her friends. “Your upbeat mood wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain gentleman who’s been enjoying quite a few solitary lunches in the tearoom, would it?”

Bright pink spots appeared on Dorothy’s cheeks as she deposited a cup of tea and a plate of scones on a small table next to the quilt rack. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

“I didn’t. Hannah tipped me off. She calls him your beau.”

The woman’s flush deepened. “I’m too old to have a beau. Besides, he’s younger than me.”

Kelsey raised an eyebrow. Hannah had pointed out the dapper, white-haired man to her yesterday. “How much younger?”

“He’s only seventy-one.”

Kelsey adopted a look of mock horror. “Goodness! You’d be robbing the cradle!” She picked up a scone and nibbled at it. “When was I going to hear about this new development, anyway? I tell you everything.”

“I was going to mention it eventually. If it lasted. We only met two weeks ago. I thought his interest might wane.”

“According to Hannah, he comes for lunch almost every day. I don’t think his interest is waning.” She inspected the scone in her hand. “This is delicious, by the way. I don’t recall you ever making chocolate chip scones before. New recipe?”

Dorothy’s color surged again. “Charles likes chocolate.”

“Ah. That explains it. So tell me all about this mystery man.” Kelsey grinned at her and continued to eat. She couldn’t ever recall seeing the older woman flustered. Then again, love—or even mere attraction—could do that to a person.

She was finding that out firsthand.

“His name is Charles Summer. He and his wife used to rent a condo in Holland every August after he retired, but this is the first time he’s come back since she died three years ago. He doesn’t get into Douglas much, but over the Fourth of July weekend he joined some old friends from out of town for lunch at the tearoom. We chatted a little that day, and he started coming back. More conversations led to a dinner invitation…and we’ve been seeing each other ever since.”

Finishing off her scone, Kelsey picked up her teacup. “That’s a very romantic story, Dorothy.”

“I’m too old for romance.”

“No one’s ever too old for romance.”

“We’ll see, I suppose.” The older woman smoothed back a stray strand of hair. “And speaking of romance, I haven’t seen Luke much lately.”

Kelsey shot Dorothy a cautious look. “What does Luke have to do with romance?”

“You tell me. Hannah thinks there are sparks between the two of you.”

“Hannah has a very active imagination. I’ve hardly seen Luke in the past two weeks. Now that the campaign is beginning to attract national media attention, he’s been on the go every minute.”

“I think there are sparks, too.”

“Then you have an overactive imagination as well.”

“Hmm.” Dorothy fingered her pearls. “You never did tell me what Dr. Walters had to say about this new man in your life.”

This was not a discussion Kelsey wanted to have.

She set down her teacup, bent her head over the quilt and went back to work. “He’s not the new man in my life, Dorothy. Not in the way you mean. But he is nice, and I do find him attractive. Dr. Walters thinks that’s a positive sign. I agree. Meeting him has been very therapeutic.”

“Therapeutic.” The older woman burst into laughter. “I wonder what your neighbor would say if he heard you describing him that way?”

Kelsey shot her an appalled look, but Dorothy waved her concerns aside.

“Don’t worry, my dear. Your secret is safe with me.”

With that, she retreated to her own side of the shop.

Leaving Kelsey to wonder what secret she’d been referring to—the secret about her baby, or the secret about her growing feelings for the doctor next door.

Hannah touched her white linen napkin to her lips and gave a satisfied sigh. “That was an amazing meal, Luke. Thanks for the great send-off.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He signaled the waiter for a refill of his coffee. “More tea, Kelsey?”

“No, thanks. I’ve reached my limit. And I second Hannah’s comment about the food. I haven’t been here in years, but Clearbrook was always a wonderful special occasion place. The food is just as good as I remember.” She smoothed her fingers over the starched tablecloth. “Gram and Dorothy were born three weeks apart, and they used to come here to celebrate their birthdays every year. Too bad Dorothy couldn’t join us tonight.”

“She offered to back out on her date with Charles, but he had tickets for a play in Grand Rapids she’s dying to see, so I told her to go for it. We said our good-byes this afternoon. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of romance.” Aiming a deliberate look at her brother, Hannah picked up her purse. “Would you two excuse me while I run to the ladies’ room?”

Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her obvious strategy. Kelsey had gone to the rest room ten minutes ago, and Hannah had declined to join her. Apparently she’d been planning all along to give them a few minutes alone in this romantic, candlelit spot.

Not that it would do much good. Kelsey was chasing some crumbs from her molten chocolate cake around her plate with her fork—and avoiding his eyes. Just as she’d been avoiding him on the beach for the past ten days. When their paths did cross on the afternoons he picked up Hannah from the tearoom, she used the occasion to get updates on the youth center project and fill him in on her latest PR efforts.

As far as he was concerned, if God wanted this relationship to deepen, He wasn’t offering Luke much opportunity to take it to the next level.

Eyeing Kelsey, he picked up his coffee. “I want to thank you for taking Hannah under your wing during her visit.”

“I enjoyed getting to know her.” Kelsey set her fork on her plate and looked at him. “She was a godsend to Dorothy, too. Losing a server had her in a tizzy until Hannah stepped forward and volunteered to fill in while she rounded up a replacement.”

“Things worked out well all around. Much better than I expected after her first day on the beach.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Kelsey’s lips and she lifted her teacup. “You did seem a little panicked when she was flirting with those two college guys.”

“Guilty as charged.” He raised his cup in acknowledgement. “But much to my relief, she told me later that since she was only going to be here for three weeks, there was no sense starting something that would go nowhere.”

Kelsey rested her elbows on the table, cradling the teacup in her hands as she met his gaze. “She has a point.”

“I agree. Especially at that age.” He edged the conversation onto personal ground, choosing his next words with care. “But friendships don’t have to be bound by geography. If people are willing to make the effort.”

He held his breath as she studied him. He expected her to shut down. Or divert the conversation to a safer topic. But she surprised him.

Setting her cup in its saucer, she clasped her hands together and rested them on the edge of the table. “Luke…I haven’t missed Hannah’s less-than-subtle efforts to push us together. Dorothy’s been dropping hints, too. But you’ll be gone in three weeks. We hardly know each other. And relationships among mature adults come with a lot of baggage that can be very difficult to deal with in person, let alone over a long distance.”

Kelsey’s candor took him off guard. As did the melancholy sadness deep in her eyes. But if she was cracking the door, he was stepping through. With both feet.

“Are you talking about the baby?”

She rested a hand on her stomach. Swallowed. Opened her mouth to respond.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” The waiter stopped beside him and slid the check onto the table.

Kelsey closed her mouth and reached for her purse.

The moment was gone.

Stifling his disappointment, he pulled his credit card out of his wallet and handed it over. “No. Thanks.”

As the waiter walked away, Hannah rejoined them. “Did I miss anything important?” She sent him a hopeful look.

“No.”

Her face fell.

“What time is your flight tomorrow, Hannah?”

Kelsey’s question redirected the conversation to more mundane matters, where it remained during the short ride home in the dark.

When they parted in the driveway, Kelsey hugged Hannah, murmured her thanks to Luke for dinner, and disappeared around the trees with an “I’ll be fine,” after he offered to walk her to her door.

The instant the darkness swallowed her, Hannah turned to him. “So why didn’t you use the ambiance at the restaurant to your advantage while I was gone? Draw her out a little?”

“I tried. But the waiter interrupted us.”

“That figures.” Hannah blew out a frustrated breath. “Well, you’re on your own after I leave, big brother. Work on it, okay?”

“I’ll pray about it. That’s the best I can promise.” He opened the door and moved aside to allow her to precede him.

“Good plan. I’ll add my voice. Wherever two or three and all that.” She stopped in the living room to give him a hug. “I need to finish packing. See you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well.”

She disappeared down the hall, and Luke wandered into the kitchen. Opening the back door, he stepped out and strolled across the deck. The moon was slivering the whitecaps on the lake, and stars twinkled above. He couldn’t imagine a more peaceful scene.

Yet as he glanced next door through the darkness, he had a feeling the tranquility of the setting would be lost on his neighbor. Despite her faith, despite a career she appeared to enjoy, despite her apparent peace with her decision to leave the corporate world, she seemed weighed down with worry. And a sadness that was soul deep.

Tonight, for the first time, she’d admitted she carried baggage. Not only that, he was certain she’d been on the cusp of giving him a glimpse into the secrets locked in her heart—until the waiter interrupted them.

But if she’d come that close once, perhaps she would again. Given the right circumstances.

And he intended to do everything in his power to
create
those circumstances, if necessary, before he headed south to start his E.R. director job in Atlanta.

Kelsey couldn’t remember ever being so tired.

As she massaged the small of her back, she halfheartedly pulled a frying pan from the cabinet and tried to work up some enthusiasm for the evening meal. But no way could a sautéed chicken breast and simple salad compete with last night’s dinner at Clearbrook. The oyster-and-asparagus chowder had been to die for, and the pan-seared New Zealand lamb had melted in her mouth.

Not that it mattered. She wasn’t hungry tonight anyway. Plus, she had a nagging backache. Too many hours on her feet at the shop, no doubt. But sitting at the quilt rack had proven uncomfortable, too—even though she needed to make some significant progress on her commission soon.

She pulled out a can of vegetable spray and coated the pan. Maybe if she put her feet up and—

A knock sounded behind her, and her hand jerked, sending a swath of glistening oil across the stovetop.

Only two people had ever come to the back of her house. And one of them had flown home to Atlanta today.

Meaning her visitor was Luke.

She set the can of vegetable spray on the counter, wiped her palms on her skirt and tried to downshift her pulse.
Please, Lord, don’t let him try to pick up last night’s interrupted dinner conversation! Hannah was right. There’s no sense starting something that has no future. I should never have let the intimate ambiance at the restaurant prod me into beginning a discussion I don’t want to finish.

Another knock sounded. This one louder than the first.

The temptation to ignore the summons was strong. But that would be childish. He knew she was here. Her car was in the drive and lights were on all over the house.

Psyching herself up for the encounter, she moved to the back door, summoned up a smile and exited into the screened porch. He was standing outside the porch, dressed in a chest-hugging T-shirt and worn jeans that sat well on his lean hips, and despite her efforts to rein it in, her pulse shifted into high gear again as she approached him.

“Hi. Did Hannah get off okay?” She almost pulled off her attempt at a bright, friendly—impersonal—tone.

“Yes. I heard from her a little while ago. She’s home safe and sound. Am I interrupting anything?” He motioned toward her left hand.

She looked down. Her fingers were dusted with flour, and she swiped them on her skirt, leaving white streaks on the denim. “No. I was just fixing dinner. Nothing to rival last night. Thank you again for including me.”

“It was my pleasure. May I come in for a minute? I borrowed this from Father Joe after today’s board meeting and I thought you’d be interested in seeing it.” He held up a large black portfolio case. “Once we got a gentleman’s agreement on the land purchase, the architectural firm started working on some preliminary drawings for the youth center. We wanted to have some concrete ideas to show at the fundraising dinner.”

He was here on business. Good. Business she could handle.

Pushing open the door, she stepped aside to let him enter. “Is that large enough?” She gestured toward the café table in the center of the room.

“Should be.”

He walked over to it, unzipped the case and pulled out three color artist’s renderings. “They’re very different styles. Take a look and tell me which one you like best.”

Curious, she joined him at the table and leaned over to examine the drawings. All three were appealing, but one caught her eye immediately. It was a low-slung structure, constructed of glass, wood and stone, and the irregular shape lent itself to interesting rooflines that peaked and soared in several places.

“No contest. That one.” She pointed to it. “It’s stunning.”