Everyday Blessings (11 page)

This was wholly private, what she felt. Friendship, yes. Admiration, yes. Respect, yes. And anything more than that, she didn't have to acknowledge. Just like she didn't have to acknowledge the brightness shining secretly in her heart.

Determined to keep feet firmly on the ground, Aubrey pocketed her phone and went back inside. There was more computer work waiting and dessert to help serve and kids to get into bed. She would concentrate on that. Not on William.

 

William set the phone in the cradle. The sun had sunk lower toward the western mountains, and the spill of light through the window came lower, beneath Aubrey's sun catcher so that it no longer glowed and winked. The simple rose in the glasswork made him remember how she'd looked beside him at the edge of the field, and how she'd made him feel.

It had been a long time since he'd really trusted anyone. He'd glossed over the devastation he'd felt after losing Kylie. For so very long, he'd been alone and glad to be. Trusting no one had been easier. Staying away from others, trustworthy or not, had
saved him from caring. And from caring, getting involved. Because love hurt too much.

But Aubrey, she was different. Simply talking with her affected him. He could feel the warmth in his heart like the gentle new glow of the first star of the night. Not romantic, no, it wasn't that kind of glow. Deep down he was so hungry for the ties of family and friends that, as scared as he was, he needed this. He needed Aubrey's friendship. She was one woman he could trust with that need.

 

While she stood in front of Danielle's pantry shelves with a notepad in hand, Aubrey listened to the sounds of Katherine, Jack and Hayden's final goodbyes to Dad and Dorrie at the front door. It had been a good evening with her family, with the excitement of the growing interest in the Web site's auction items, and the call from William. Danielle was still at the hospital, refusing to leave Jonas, and the strain of it, according to Dorrie, who'd spent all day with her, was starting to take its toll.

She recognized Spence's footsteps behind her in the quiet kitchen. She didn't turn as she scribbled down another item on the list. “I'm almost done.”

“No hurry. I'm waiting for Dorrie to pack a new overnight bag for Danielle. I've got some casserole dishes to return to a few of the church ladies, and
I'm swinging by the hospital, too.” Spence had that tone in his voice. The seriously serious one. “Did I hear Ava right? Did she try to set you and William Corey up by having you deliver a cake to him?”

“The cake was a thank-you from Danielle, and a setup only works if the two people are interested in being set up.” She noticed the peanut-butter jar had nothing but a few scrapings in it, and she added that to the list. “Don't worry, Spence. I'm not looking for an engagement ring from William.”

“You're a sensible girl, unlike some others I can name in this family.” While Spence looked gruff, Aubrey wasn't fooled. Not a bit. Not at all. She couldn't help adoring her big brother who had taken care of them all through tough times and good. He'd always been there, grumbling, sure, but he'd never let one of them down.

He was simply trying to take care of her now as he lowered his voice. “No one knows William real well, but I know this. He gives heavily to the united charities and he's done it for years, and he's never wanted anything in return, not even a mention of it anywhere. Whenever the soup kitchen is running low on funds, all one of us on the board has to do is call him and there's a check when we need it. He's a reliable and upstanding man, and if he's interested in you, maybe you should take down a few of your defenses.”

“You know something about defenses, do you?”

That actually made him smile. “Not me.”

“I didn't think so.” If anyone had impenetrable defenses, it was Spence. She knew why. He'd been hurt the most after their mother left. She schooled her face, kept her emotions steady and all while adding macaroni and cheese to the grocery list. “You don't have to worry about me, okay? I'm just friends with William. We're riding buddies. He's all alone, and I hadn't been riding in the forests since my old riding buddy moved, you know that.”

“Sure.” Spence nodded as if he saw her clearly. “Just think about what I've said.”

She didn't have to. She ripped the list from the pad and handed it to her brother. “The list is arranged by aisle, if you start at the vegetable side of the store.”

“That's very practical of you. You're great, Aubrey. Thanks.” He walked away, pocketing the list. “Good night.”

“'Night.” She closed the pantry door and waited a moment in the empty kitchen, letting the emotion settle.

Dorrie padded into sight. “Aubrey, are you all right?”

“I'm good.”

“Are you sure, dear? You look terribly sad.”

“It's nothing, really. I'm all right. Did you need something?”

“Tyler's asking for you to come read his bedtime story. Would you mind? I know you wanted to get home.”

“You know I can't say no to my nephew.”

“I thought you might say that.” Dorrie's loving smile said it all. She came and gave Aubrey a hug. “I've got the book all set out. Tyler's prayers are said and he's tucked in.”

“Then you go enjoy a little unwinding time in front of the television. There's a new series starting on Masterpiece Theatre.”

“I might do that. Thanks, dear. Are you sure you're all right?”

“I am.”

Dorrie didn't look as though she believed her.

Aubrey felt very plain and practical as she turned out the kitchen light and headed down the hallway. She'd told Dorrie the truth. Everything
was
all right; nothing was hurting but her heart.

T
here she was. The instant William found Aubrey in the crowded sanctuary, his uncertainty faded. It was hard taking this step, harder still to stand with his guard down in the resonant church loud with the sounds of rustling movements and conversations as families settled onto the long pews. Hardest of all was to let in just a little hope.

“William.” When she looked up to find him at the end of the row, her smile seemed like a confirmation. “Believe it or not we've been saving a spot for you. If I can get Ava to move all her stuff. Ava.”

“I'm hurrying.” Her twin, beside her, was busily trying to stuff numerous items back into an enormous tote. “I can't find my Bible anywhere.”

“It's probably right where you left it last,” Aubrey said patiently. “Like on the nightstand at home.”

“Oops.” Ava sounded as if she wasn't all surprised. Apparently this was a frequent occurrence. “I'll just share with my handsome fiancé.”

William recognized Brice Donovan from the many times he'd made donations to the united churches board. After saying hello and shaking hands, he nodded to Spence, who was much farther down the row with the rest of the family.

Aubrey scooted over to make room for him next to her and he settled in awkwardly. Church was a place made for feeling, and letting any emotion move through him had been something he'd fought so hard against for so long. It overwhelmed him now. He held back as hard as he could and still he felt, hurt with the newness of it.

Aubrey's smile made the stinging sharper. Her low alto drew him closer.

“I'm glad you came,” she said in that gentle way of hers. “I sort of thought that it would all be too much, with my family and everything.”

Remembering the boyfriend remark he'd overheard should be enough to keep him away, but he could look into Aubrey's violet-blue eyes and see her honesty. She understood. Gratitude moved within him like light through the stained-glass windows, transforming him just enough so that he could stay. Relax. Feel comfortable at her side.

As for her family, he understood. They were close-knit and protective of her. Something he'd
once known and lost, so he got exactly how precious it was. “Don't worry. I understand.”

When she smiled, his heart did, too.

She leaned closer. “How long has it been since you've been to a service?”

“Years. It hurt too much to go alone. My wife and I—” He shrugged, unable to say more. He didn't have to. It was a comfort to know that he didn't have to say some of the hardest things out loud. She simply understood him.

The music started. Since everyone was standing and reaching for the hymnals, he did the same. Aubrey's soft, perfect alto didn't surprise him, but what did was the sense of closeness he felt to her.

It felt good, not to be so alone anymore. He was glad he'd come. He had a lot to give thanks for.

 

Poor William looked lost, Aubrey thought as she peered out Katherine's front window. He stood in the condominium complex's parking lot holding a shopping bag in one hand and studying a piece of paper in the other. A laptop case hung by a strap from one strong shoulder.

“You'd best go save him,” Katherine said, as she carried the covered bowl of marinating chicken from the kitchen to the back patio door. “I'll take care of setting the table so you don't have to worry about it. Just go help him.”

Yeah, her sister
so
had the wrong idea. Aubrey
rolled her eyes, wishing she knew what to say that would make them believe her. The truth wasn't working; only time would show them. She headed straight to the front door. She hurried not because her heart took a dive at the first sight of him, but because the units weren't uniform and the directions could be a little confusing.

She hardly noticed the blistering heat radiating off the blacktop as she headed out the door and onto the front step. Did she notice the sweet honeysuckle scenting the air? Or the kiss of sunlight on her skin?

No. There was only William and the way his face lit up when he saw her. The shadows were gone, and a lot of his reserve. Once, she'd thought him as remote as the mountains and now he was her friend.

“Hi, stranger,” she called out, shading her eyes with her hand.

“I guess I'm not lost after all. I was just getting ready to call you.” As he walked toward her, his smile widened to show real honest dimples.

Not that she should be noticing that or how handsome he looked in his black trousers and matching shirt. Or how self-conscious she felt in her best lavender dress and matching sandals.

He fell in beside her and said nothing.

A huge silence grew between them. Quick, Aubrey, think of something entertaining to say.
Something engaging. Funny. She searched her brain, which had gone totally blank. Well, she shouldn't be surprised. She'd never been full of interesting things to say.

William broke the silence, bless him. “This is the place you're going to buy?”

“Yeah. It's like home anyway, since we—I mean, I—spend so much time here. Ava and I are always imposing on Katherine. Well, that was before she got engaged. She had more time on her hands before Jack popped the question, so we helped her fill it. It won't even feel like a real move. I think half of my things are in the guest room.”

“Then it sounds like a real sensible purchase.”

Yep, that's me, she thought. It was a good thing to be sensible. Really. That wasn't what was bothering her, if she were honest with herself. No. If she were honest, then she would have to admit she'd been holding on to a tiny hope that William might see her differently. That he might see more in her, beyond the plain and the sensible woman, to the real Aubrey McKaslin.

It was best not to think about all that. “Spence and Dad were just getting ready to barbecue. I hope you like chicken.”

“I like everything. I've never been a picky eater. Which reminds me.” William held up the large bag. “I stopped by the farmer's market and got some fresh corn.”

On the cob. Sure enough, the bag was full of green husks of corn, the tassels a perfect light gold. “You get full marks.”

“I'm not done yet.” He said nothing more, but his dark eyes were warm with a secret. His smile, so relaxed and bright, made him seem like a whole new man. He stepped into the shadowed foyer after her. “I brought my laptop. I figured it might help out with the online stuff.”

“Great. After dinner, we plan to have a huge e-mail session. Even more messages have come in since late night, so we should be busy. Oh, and Ava brought dessert. Her triple-chocolate dream pie.”

William had a hard time focusing on much of anything aside from Aubrey. She was all he could see. From the soft shine of her golden hair to the sweet way she talked and moved and smiled, she drew him like the stars to the sky. At peace, he followed her into the large gourmet kitchen. “Where do you want me to put the corn?”

“Oh, on the counter is fine. Would you like something cold to drink?” She opened a stainless-steel refrigerator, and the wide door engulfed her as she began rattling off the choices.

All he could see of her was the hem of her lavender dress and her matching shoes. Cute. Perfect. Nice. Not that he was supposed to be noticing.

“Lemonade,” he decided, managing to get the word out of his tight throat. Maybe it was the aftereffect of the service that was weighing on him. Once his guard had gone down, it had been slow going back up. He felt too full of feeling—emotion he wanted to ignore instead of analyze—and eagerly took the glass Aubrey had filled and set on the counter. The icy coldness eased some of the ache in his throat, but not the big one dead center in his chest.

“I have something for you.” He set the glass aside and opened the laptop case. Inside was the eight-by-ten he'd matted and framed. “I thought you might like this.”

“Oh no, it's not of me, is it?” She didn't cut her gaze to the picture but instead her eyes met his. It was impossible to read what the shadows in them meant. Impossible to understand why she looked troubled. “I
knew
I should have stolen my camera back sooner.”

“I wouldn't have let you. Aren't you even going to look at it?”

“I hate to look at myself in pictures.”

“Sorry. I want you to look at this one.” He felt like saying more, something about how beautiful he thought she was, or telling her how amazing she looked today. He wanted her to know he had nothing but respect for her.

The thought of saying any of those things, well,
it made him feel uneasy. It would suggest a deeper closeness between them that didn't exist.

Or
if
it did, he couldn't acknowledge it.

Her fingers brushed his as she took the frame from him. Peace filled him, and he didn't want to acknowledge that, either, or the fact that he couldn't take his eyes from her. Still, she had not looked at the image. He had to ask. “What do you think?”

Then she looked. She didn't react right away.

Why did that make him nervous? It wasn't like him to hang on what other people thought, but he
had
to acknowledge that her opinion did matter to him. This photograph meant something to him.

Seconds ticked by and she didn't move. She didn't blink or seem to breathe. She didn't smile to say that she liked it, or frown to say she didn't. Nor did she hand him back the photo. His heart began to beat hollowly. There was no way watching her that he could guess at her feelings. He'd never known anyone else who'd been able to keep thoughts and reactions so private. They had that in common, too.

Finally, he broke the silence. “I thought you'd like a picture of you and Annie.”

“You thought right. This is incredible. Annie looks—” She didn't finish. “She looks like the champion she is.”

“I got a lucky shot.”

If that were true, Aubrey thought, then William
had been lucky every time he clicked the shutter. This was no exception. How he'd managed to capture the exact moment when Annie had lifted her head to scent the wind, Aubrey didn't know, but somehow the mare was sheer, frozen motion. The fluid ripple of her red mane, the flowing texture of lean muscle beneath sun-warmed satin, and the gloss of sunlight on her sorrel coat made her shine like a dream against the background of blinding blue sky, polished lake waters and rough-cut amethyst peaks.

As for the image he'd caught of her, she didn't even know what to think. She was mostly suffused with the fall of sunlight falling over her. She would have been washed-out had anyone else taken the picture. But, instead, she looked surrounded by light, as if the sun had deigned to lean low to touch the earth and she happened to be in the way. She'd been watching the lake, her hair spilling down from beneath her hat and rippling in the wind at the same angle as Annie's mane.

She didn't look like herself. Sure, it
was
her, but she wasn't plain or ordinary. The woman on horseback did not seem overly sensible or practical. She looked opalescent, tranquil and self-possessed.

Katherine spoke; Aubrey hadn't even been aware of her coming into the kitchen. “This is amazing, William. It looks just like her.”

“I think so.” William's baritone rumbled with sincerity.

“That's how you see me?”

When he nodded, her heart fell and didn't stop. How perfect was he?

Don't fall in love with this man, Aubrey. But how did she stop the emotion rolling through her with the power of all her unacknowledged hopes and most secret dreams? Wishes that went beyond friendship. Dreams of happily-ever-after with this man who could see her.

Was it possible? Not as things stood now. What was she going to do? How was she going to keep these new, uncertain affections private? Was it on her face, and, if she said one single word, would her voice give it away?

Spence saved her. He marched into the kitchen as if he owned it and placed the marinade bowl into the sink with a
clunk.
“Corn? Great. I'll get this husked. Katherine, you'll boil some water?”

“Sure.”

Katherine's moving around and Spence's departure were background because, as hard as she tried, she couldn't seem to make her brain jump out of Neutral. Only one thing was clear. She was in deep jeopardy, and William, he didn't even know he was so dangerous to her.

She propped the frame on the counter, so the
rest of her family, who were sure to make their way into the kitchen, could admire William's work.

She wasn't falling in love with him, really. As she headed toward the arched doorway, she tried to convince herself she was in perfect control of her feelings. “C'mon William, I'll show you the backyard. Katherine has done a gorgeous job with it.”

William said nothing as he followed her. They walked in companionable silence, neither saying a word.

It was safer that way.

 

William had retreated into silence behind the screen of his laptop; it was the most distance he could create between himself and the McKaslin family without actually getting up from the dining-room table and leaving. He wasn't sure what that said about him, that he fought a jagged-edged panic being so near to anyone.

But the truth was, as much as he wanted to get away, he also wanted to stay. He'd had the best time. He hadn't realized how hungry he'd been for an evening just like this one. He liked Aubrey's family. He liked their ties of caring and connection. The shared history. It made him remember his own.

Aubrey sat beside him at the oval table and leaned close to speak low, so only he could hear.
“How are you doing? Are you ready to run away from us yet?”

“So far so good.” He winked. “You know, now that I have access to your server, I can help out during the week from home.”

“That would be wonderful. I want to say that you've done more than enough, but on the other hand, we really need the help.”