Covered Bridge Charm (36 page)

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Authors: Dianne; Christner

BOOK: Covered Bridge Charm
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In the car, Jason smiled warmly at Carly. “I’m glad I got to meet your aunt. I can tell she’s a character. Like Gramps. And I mean that in a good way.”

“I’m used to her scolds. She means well. And for the record, she adores Cocoa.”

“That’s what I figured.” He pulled onto Route 20, headed west toward the freeway and Albany. “I didn’t want to say anything that might get Fannie’s hopes up, but I have a good friend who’s in publishing. I could get Tom to check out her patterns. What do you think? He works for a secular publisher, but there’s a large group of people eating this stuff up right now, dreaming of days when life was simpler.”

Astonished, Carly could hardly contain her excitement. “Are you kidding me? That would be wonderful. She’s had her dream for a long time. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

“No trouble for you, Carly.” She squirmed a bit under his warm smile. This man was so magnanimous it was hard to read him. She couldn’t imagine that he was appreciating her as a woman he might pursue—given her plain lifestyle—yet his attentiveness was hard to explain away. “Better not tell her until I talk to Tom and get his opinion.”

“All right. Thanks again.” She was thrilled for Auntie. And amazed how her life was changing just by allowing a few new friendships to develop.

“And?” He flashed her a white smile. “There seems to be more on your mind.”

“I was thinking that until the last few months, most of my friendships were with elderly people. It feels good to be around people who still dream and want to make dreams come true.”

“Everybody needs a dream.”

“Mine all seem to involve the residents at Sweet Life.”

“I understand. I feel the same about the homeless. Gramps wanted me to join the military, but I guess I took after Mom’s side. I like what I do. Don’t you have any personal dreams?”

Adam came to mind, but she wasn’t going to share about him. “I don’t know.”

“I get it, if you don’t want to share.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I have dreams about settling down. Having a family.”

She nodded, feeling heat sear her neck. That was her dream, too.

“It’s hard to find the right person. I thought I had it all figured out, had met the right woman.” He laughed harshly. “Sorry if I sound bitter, but I’m still recovering from a broken relationship.” He gripped the steering wheel. “Anyway, money draws the wrong people. I’m looking for somebody with a heart like yours.”

She laughed nervously. “You barely know me.”

“That’s why I invited you today.”

“I thought you needed help at the clinic.”

“God works in mysterious ways.”

“Jah.” She’d been praying more lately, willing to follow God’s plan for her life, but didn’t know how Jason fit into the overall plan. She understood he was part of creating Martha’s surprise, but it seemed as though more was happening.

By the end of the day, however, Jason’s intentions became clearer. He’d watched as she told stories while the children were being administered shots. His blue eyes glimmered with admiration when she washed a homeless man’s feet in a sudsy tub so that a doctor could examine them.

For a multitude of reasons, she needed to set him straight. She was plain, and he was worldly. While they both loved and served the Lord, their doctrinal beliefs were light-years apart, and she’d never compromise. She’d preached this very thing to Miranda when she’d first shown interest in Jimmy. But with Jason, things became complicated so fast that it was hard to discern God’s will—a problem that often got Carly into one predicament or another.

But the biggest reason she should thwart Jason’s interest was Adam. No matter how handsome, kind, and generous a man Jason was, she loved Adam. Quiet and brooding, her dark-haired hero awakened desires in her that were incomparable to any other. Her godsend—so steadfast—well, until lately. Her burr—he’d be furious if he discovered the situation she’d put herself in and what was occupying Jason’s mind.

Adam whistled, proud of himself for securing time both Saturday and Sunday to spend with his suddenly social butterfly. Sunday afternoon was the big birthday party. After Carly’s protestations regarding Saturday—she was baking a cake for Martha’s birthday—he’d volunteered to help. To his delight, she’d agreed. Not that he knew anything about cakes except his favorite was chocolate, but he loved any previews of Carly’s domestic abilities.

He rapped on her cottage door, and she answered, looking somewhat disheveled, which had nothing to do with her accident because it appeared she’d had her stitches removed and the bruises were disappearing, too. He’d seen this particular look before, probably more often than not. She wore it well. He wondered if she actually cut those little wisps of curls that always seemed to escape her covering and dance around her face. Did she do it on purpose, knowing it allured him? With flushed face, she invited him inside.

“You look adorable.”
Adorably frazzled.

“Thanks. Want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

After he tossed his coat over a kitchen chair, she handed him a steaming cup and sank down beside him with a sigh. “What a morning! I was housecleaning and left the door open to shake out some rugs on the stoop, and somehow Cocoa got out. Which I don’t understand because he’s never done that before. And I didn’t miss him right away. Then I had to search. I was worried sick and so frantic I forgot to use his bell. Finally I remembered. As soon as I rang it, Cocoa’s head popped up in Imogene’s garden. So I had to tell my neighbor in case he ruined anything. She threw a big fuss because Cocoa dug up some of her bulbs. And now he’s got a taste for them.”

“Whoa. That’s not good.”

“Anyway, all’s well now.”

He looked away from her frazzled face and sipped his coffee, imagining what life would be like at his place if Carly and Cocoa moved in. It’d never occurred to him he’d be living with a willful rabbit. “Does Cocoa get jealous of you?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. I brought you something.” He went to the sofa and retrieved a bag he’d slipped there on his way inside. He placed it on the table in front of her and settled in to watch her reaction.

Glancing at him with curiosity, she pulled it onto her lap and reached inside. When her hands touched the smooth wood, she hesitated, and he could read her puzzlement. She pulled his offering out and laid it on the table. Her mouth opened adorably, and her eyes misted. “Oh! Oh, my!” She ran her fingers over the carvings of Martha and James’s endearments and swiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. “This is beautiful. How?”

“I went back that night.”

Looking both amused and accusing, she asked, “You went back and stole it?”

“Let’s just say I made an anonymous contribution to the Larwood bridge’s restoration fund.”

“This is amazing. I love the way you shaped and finished it. Thank you. When we first started searching the bridges, I didn’t know what we were even looking for, but this is it.” She stood, and the empty bag fell to the ground. When she started toward him, he rose, eager to accept whatever show of thanks she had in mind. He stilled when she placed her hands on the sides of his face and studied him with unveiled adoration.

“You’re amazing. That’s the most precious gift I’ve ever received. Thank you.” He wanted to sweep her in his arms and kiss her senseless but the moment was too dear to spoil. She dropped her hands and raised them in animation. “Martha’s going to cherish this.”

“I hope she enjoys a good adventure story.”

“And she thinks nobody cares about her. This is perfect proof we do. And speaking of proof, should we get started with that cake?”

The opportunity to kiss her senseless passed, but Adam cherished the pleasure he’d brought her. He hoped nobody would catch him in Carly’s apron. He wondered how many other men stooped so low to please women—behind closed doors, of course.

“You want to measure ingredients or beat?”

“Beat.” He snatched up the mixer with a wicked grin.

“First we cream the sugar and eggs.” She cracked two eggs into the bowl, fingering out a bit of shell, then moved to the sink to wash her hands. When she returned, she measured the sugar. Even though she dressed more conservatively than most of the women in their church, she couldn’t disguise her pleasant curves. Some might call it pleasantly plump, but he knew from holding her in his arms that she had a tiny waist and a perfect, curvy form. He stood spellbound. “So beat.”

“Oh. Jah.”

When they got to the flour, she patted his cheeks white. In retaliation, he pulled a pin from her hair.

“That’s playing dirty.”

He shrugged.

“Put these on.” She handed him oven mitts and motioned for him to put the pans in the oven.

“Not fair,” he complained. But in truth, the afternoon sped by, and when they were finished, they had a beautiful, two-layered chocolate cake and Carly’s hair was in disarray. Staring at their masterpiece, he remarked, “I didn’t know baking was this complicated. Or messy. But is this going to be enough?”

“No. Martha’s daughter’s bringing the real cake. This just fulfills a promise I made to Martha.”

Admiring her thoughtfulness, he pulled her close. “I made a promise to you, and I mean to fulfill it.”

“What promise?” she asked breathless.

“Us.” He found her lips, and when she yielded, he deepened their kiss, unaware at first why she pulled away. Drat, her phone was buzzing.

“Bad timing,” she said, moving to retrieve it from the kitchen counter. Casting him a breathless smile, she tried to right her hair as she answered. “Hi. Jah, a little busy.” She flashed him an intimate smile. He grinned, moved closer, and pulled one of her curls, but she swept his hand away, whispering. “Stop. It’s Jason.”

With disappointment he moved to the sofa, intent now on following the conversation. While he didn’t know what lines the cad was feeding her, it was an earful, given her muttered responses. Jealousy twisted his gut and ignited when suddenly her face became animated. “That’s wonderful!” she burst out. “I don’t know how to thank you.” His heart sank. Why so grateful to a stranger? Then to his increased frustration, she started pacing, happily forgetting he was even there.

Burning now, he rose, went to the kitchen, and tilted his head in a silent plea.
Hey, remember me?

“Oh, Jason. I forgot. Adam’s here.”

Forgot?

“I should probably go, but I don’t know how to thank you. Auntie’s going to be thrilled.” Whatever he said on the other end made her face blush, and Adam wanted to smash the man’s gleaming teeth. “Jah, bye.” She gently put her phone on the counter and turned. “Sorry about that. But you’ll never believe what he did.”

“You’re right,” Adam said sarcastically.

“He’s found an editor from a major publishing house that wants to look at Auntie’s quilt patterns. She’s going to be thrilled. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Stunned, Adam nodded. “Jah. I’m happy for her.” How on earth had Jason wiggled his way into Carly’s family life so quickly?

“He said her designs are so unique they’ll probably make some into art prints and maybe stationery, too. She could make a lot of money.”

“He saw them?”

“Jah.”

He watched her discern his mounting anger and downplay her explanation. She shrugged. “He picked me up at Auntie’s last week when we worked at the clinic. Miranda was there, too.”

“At the clinic?”

“No, at Aunt Fannie’s.”

He knew he was glaring, but he didn’t know how to process this information. An outsider moving in on his girl. If he stuck around, he was sure to say something offensive that would spoil their entire weekend. It would be useless to fall into the same repeated argument over Jason. Frustrated, he stared at the beautiful cake inside the glass stand and didn’t say anything for several strained moments. Finally he managed, “I’m happy for Aunt Fannie.”

“Thanks.” She smiled.

Then for once, Cocoa’s interruption was timed perfectly. While Carly went to feed the impatient rabbit, he got Jason’s number from her phone.

Adam paced down the nap of Ann’s carpet. “I feel like driving to Portland tonight and facing off with him. But I’d probably get all the way out there and he wouldn’t be home or answer the door. But I have his phone number.”

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