Everyday Blessings (12 page)

Wasn't that just his luck?

From across the table, the oldest sister was watching them approvingly. William hoped she wasn't reading more into his presence here than there was, and it made him a tad uncomfortable. He knew it was well intentioned, but love was the last thing he ever would want again. He was glad Aubrey understood, and that was what mattered.

Katherine spoke above the hubbub of the other family members working away behind laptops at the table. “It's a comfort to know that there have been so many people who have wanted to help. People we don't even know, who Jonas has touched in some way through his job or the church. It helps balance out the tragedy. Don't you think?”

Her words, while they weren't directed at him, troubled him. He wasn't sure what to say, because that wasn't his view of life. He wasn't sure what to say.

“That's what everyone says,” Spence muttered
as he tapped away at his computer. “It's a trite cliché. Nothing makes hardship better. We're just supposed to say that, but it's not true.”

The other twin, Ava, made a face. “Yes, we've all heard your tough view of existence. Life is hard and then you die. Do you know what you need, Spence?”

“Is there any way to stop you from telling me?”

“Nope, sorry.” Ava sparkled with mischief, apparently living to torment her older brother. “You are a terrible pessimist. You need to turn that around and start thinking optimistically.”

Spence frowned, but there was a hint of humor in his voice. “I don't believe in optimism. William, you're a sensible sort. Maybe you can explain life to my little sister who has been hunting and pecking at her keyboard for the last hour, unlike some of us who've actually been
working
.”

William still didn't know what to say.

“Hey!” Ava defended herself. “I don't know how to type. Really. Oops. I think I did something wrong. Aubrey, how do you get something back you've sent?”

“This is a disaster. Let me see what you've done.” As always, Aubrey sounded patient and amused.

Why was she so revealed to him? Why could he see so much of who she was? He'd never been able to see anyone so clearly. The depth of love for her family, her commitment, her values, her spirit.
When he looked at her, it was as if he was back at the lakeside, holding a camera in his hands and seeing through the lens, seeing all of her, seeing what mattered.

That panicked him. A whole lot. What he should be doing was packing up. It was getting late and dark would be falling. He had a long drive home and chores waiting. So, why wasn't he eager to head out the door?

Everyone at the table broke out in laughter; he'd missed what had been said, but he didn't miss the fact that these people stuck together, regardless of tough times. On the wall behind Aubrey was a collection of framed photos, some in collage mats, some in single frames, and all of family. They'd welcomed him in their midst today, and he was glad. It made the lonesomeness inside him fade.

The sound of the front door opening silenced everyone. Aubrey's twin popped out of her chair, engagement ring gleaming. “It's Brice back with the ice cream. I'll better go help him, he was going to pick up—”

That was as far as she got. A golden blur streaked through the archway and into the room. Ava dropped to her knees and the streak became a golden retriever who gave her a few swipes of his tongue and barked in greeting.

“—his dog, Rex!” Ava finished, and the rest of the women abandoned their work to pet the dog.

“Too bad he can't type,” Spence muttered from behind his computer screen.

Yeah, William knew what he meant. It was hard to open up at all. He found it much easier to stay tough and stone-cold.

This was his only defense.

He closed up his laptop and reached for the case he'd left behind him, against the wall. He wasn't keeping track of Aubrey, really, he wasn't, but he couldn't come up with any rationalization to explain why he kept her in his sight. He noticed the moment she became aware of his packing up. She didn't turn to look at him but tilted her head slightly to listen to the zip of the computer case. Tension slipped into the slender line of her shoulders.

The oldest sister spoke first. “William, you can't go yet. Not without a second round of dessert.”

“I've got livestock to feed.”

“That's right. You and Aubrey are both horse lovers. I suppose you aren't boarding your horse?”

“No, I have enough land. I don't mind doing the stable work.”

Katherine nodded slow and sure, as if she approved of him completely now.

Yeah, he knew what she was thinking. Aubrey was right. Her family was kind, but they didn't understand. They wanted the best for her, of
course. They looked at him and saw a single, Christian man who happened to be well-off. Wouldn't that be a good situation for their beloved Aubrey? On the surface, he looked marriageable. But underneath, not so much. Underneath there were the broken pieces of his heart that had no pulse, no life.

Aubrey came to him. “Did you want a piece of pie to go?”

“No, I'm too stuffed from dinner. That was some barbecue. Thank you, all.”

“C'mon,” Aubrey said in that quiet way of hers that drew him so. “I'll walk you out.”

“Thanks for the help, William,” Spence called out. “I'll e-mail you.”

“Good.”

Everyone called out wishes for a safe drive, a good night and thanks, as if he'd done something extraordinary. No, coming here had been terribly selfish, he realized as he stopped on the way out of the room to pat the retriever who was grinning so widely he drooled.

The truth was, William had come here tonight to save himself. He didn't realize it until he stepped out into the evening. Twilight hovered like a promise at the edges of the eastern horizon, and the air and sky were mellow. He was finally alone with Aubrey.

She fell into stride beside him. “I can't believe
you made it through the entire day with my family.”

“Why not? They're great people. It's a special blessing, to have the gift of such a family.”

“I'm grateful for them every day.”

The blacktop was still radiating heat, and the air was hot, but there was the scent of cooling in the wind that rustled the trees lining the parking lot. It was only the hush that came with the gathering twilight, but to Aubrey it felt like more.

William had fit right in. He'd helped Spence and Dad and Jack dismantle some of Katherine's gorgeous trellises, and when that work was done, he'd tried to help with the dishes, although Katherine had refused to allow such a thing. He'd bantered right along with the family through the e-mail-answering session. It seemed as if William belonged with them.

Even now, her steps and his steps tapped in synchrony and their gaits fell into rhythm while they wandered along the sidewalk toward the guest parking area.

William's pace slowed as his truck loomed closer. “We didn't get a chance to talk about that canoe trip I've promised you. I'll even pack a picnic. Not just bologna sandwiches, but a real nice meal. How about this week sometime?”

“Sure,” she managed to say as if it wasn't a big deal. But it was. Huge. Enormous.

Don't think about how perfect it feels to be standing with him like this, making plans, just hanging out. Because that would be acknowledging the worst possible thing that could happen. It would make her admit, even to herself, how much she had fallen for this good man when she had no business doing so.

William fished his keys out of his pocket. “Then it's a plan. I'll call you.”

“Sure. Anytime. Except for tonight, I'll be sitting with Jonas for part of the night so Danielle can get some much needed sleep. Wait, and Monday I'll be babysitting the munchkins. And Tuesday, I've got a late shift at the bookstore. Well, I'm busier than I thought.”

“I've never met anyone busier.”

“I know, it's the price of being in an enmeshed family. I'll leave my cell on. Please call whenever. I'll manage to find time for you.
Maybe.
” Her tone said otherwise.

He
did
like her. There was no point in denying it. He hadn't given thanks for his life in a long time, but spending the day with Aubrey and her family had inspired him. The blessing of friendship was nothing to take for granted. He popped the locks and opened the door. He'd never found it so hard to leave her before, but she stood there, blond hair rippling in the breeze, looking like everything good in the world. And it was an image
that stuck with him long after he'd driven away. He couldn't explain why.

Or why he felt a little bit more like the man he used to be.

 

It started the instant she walked back through Katherine's front door. Her sisters were being way too sisterly, bless them. Ava was radiating joy as if she were a star shining under its own power. Katherine was looking pleased as she sliced perfect pieces of chocolate pie and slipped them onto dessert plates.

“This is super-duper!” Ava burst out as she poured iced tea into a row of tumblers. “I mean, he's so totally in love with you.”

“In love with me?” That was a hoot. The last time she'd looked, “friendship” was an entire universe away from “romantic love.” “You're out to lunch as usual, Ava. William doesn't see me like that at all. Trust me.”

“Oh,
sure
he doesn't.” She'd made up her mind and apparently nothing was going to change her mind. “Katherine, what's your verdict?”

“Well, isn't it obvious?” Katherine licked a dollop of chocolate icing from her thumb as she carried the knife to the sink. “Did he look at any of us the entire time he was here?”

“In some kind of vague way.” Ava spilled tea and put down the pitcher to grab at the roll of
paper towels. “I don't think he noticed much of anything with Aubrey in the room.”

“At last we've found a man who can see all the lovely qualities in Aubrey the way we do.”

“Enough, you two.” She tried to keep it light, but the truth was, this wasn't cheerful, it wasn't fun, it wasn't true. What she'd give for their words to be true, she wasn't sure, but it would be a whole lot. What could be more wonderful than for William to love her?

Talk about impossible, though. She gulped air past the pain gathering in her chest. She was the sensible one. She had to be practical. “William is a friend, nothing more. Besides, I'm not his type, and he's not my type.”

Katherine shook her head stubbornly. “Sweetie, just look at the picture he took of you.”

There it was, still sitting on the counter. Okay, she wanted to read everything into it, but that would be foolish. “He's a master photographer. You know we've had e-mail bids on his work in the six figures and there's no official bidding yet. He makes everything look good in his pictures. Even me.”

“No one believes you, sweetie.” Katherine grabbed two loaded dessert plates and headed toward the dining room with them. “Ava, do you believe her?”

“Nope, but then she's in denial.”

“No, she's in love. Look at her. She's shining.”

They'd guessed? She hadn't even allowed herself to think the truth, but there it was, out in the open. She couldn't argue with them. Her feelings for William, as new and as unwanted as they were, were a fact. She could deny it all she wanted to, but it didn't change her heart.

What was she going to do now? Had William guessed, too? The phone rang, and Ava dashed to get it, leaving Aubrey alone at the island where William's picture stood, a masterpiece of light and joy. She hadn't noticed it had a title before, but there it was, like all his others.
Peter 3:5.

It wasn't one she automatically knew. Where was Katherine's Bible? Aubrey glanced around and spotted the little flowered book bag tucked in the window seat of the casual kitchen nook, where Katherine did her daily study. What luck. Aubrey went straight to it, hardly noticing Ava's excited screeching. Their maternal grandmother was on the phone. But did that distract her?

No. The Bible's leather cover was worn smooth from use and the pages whispered open as she flipped to the Book of Peter, then the chapter and, her heart jack hammering, to the verse.

You should be known for the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.

That was it. The final falling. She couldn't seem to stop her affection for William from intensify
ing. Every dream rose up from her soul, and the wish that someday, maybe, William might feel this way for her, too.

A
s she tried to get some work accomplished in her studio on her grandmother's property, the only thoughts she had were of William. He'd been stubbornly at the front of her mind since she realized she was falling in love with him. This made it impossible to concentrate properly on anything, including her work. The sketches she'd come up with for her new rain chime designs were not making her happy.

Probably because she kept glancing at her watch every two seconds. William was on his way. He was supposed to be here in a while so they could go canoeing. It seemed as if she couldn't think about anything but him. Or all the things she liked about him. It was a long, long list. So long, that she would probably sit staring into space until she was in the utter and complete dark and not even notice.

The last thing she should be doing, anyway, was daydreaming about the wonderful attributes of William Corey. She shouldn't be daydreaming at all, right? Well, she wasn't sure, since she'd never been prone to daydreaming before. She'd always been levelheaded, but she'd never been secretly in love before.

Her sisters had guessed. What if he had? That thought sent her into total panic. Probably, if he thought she'd fallen in love with him, he wouldn't be coming with a canoe and a picnic, right?

That lessened her panic, but she had a greater problem. Somehow, she had to keep her feelings for him secret. That meant, she had to keep the affection out of her voice, out of her words and expressions. While, at the same time, trying
not
to wonder if he was feeling this, too.

William. She knew he'd arrived a moment before she heard the pad of his shoes on the cement outside. It was as if her soul turned toward him in acknowledgment. That's how deeply he affected her.

He filled the open doorway. “This is a nice place you've got here.”

“It's my grandmother's property, although she doesn't spend a lot of time here anymore.”

“Who keeps up the garden?”

“Spence, mostly, and I tend things when I can. Lately, it's been hit-and-miss, but I usually spend
a lot of time here. Since Gran won't accept rent, I work it off unofficially.”

“That doesn't surprise me.” It was the only word William could think of to say. Seeing her again was like coming home. It was like watching dawn rise and knowing you had the whole sweet day ahead, full of possibilities. It felt right to walk right in, to stand beside her and look over her shoulder at her work on the long, scarred table. There was a big sketch pad and a careful row of descending-sized bowls, lake-gray and textured as if hammered pewter but, instead, it was glazed ceramics.

“From the lake,” he realized.

“This is my prototype. You're early. It's only eleven-thirty. Let me close up and find my tennies.” Like a morning breeze, she slipped from her stool and landed on her bare feet. She made no sound as she bent to drag a pair of pink sneakers from beneath the table. She slipped her feet into them and grabbed a baseball cap and sunglasses from the organizer against one wall.

How did he tell her that he hadn't intended to be thirty minutes early, it had just happened? Probably because he'd been eager to see her, to talk to her, simply to be with her. It was a comfort, he told himself, the same way it had been a comfort to sit with her family on Sunday. To feel as if he were a part of something again, even if on the outside looking in.

She had a nice setup here, a potter's wheel, an oven and a sink against the far wall. Wide wood-framed windows looked out at views on three of four walls, showing a riot of green garden, a long slope of meadow where quarter horses and paints grazed, and a wide span of gleaming river. But he was only noticing these things so intently because it gave him something to do besides focusing on Aubrey.

He followed her outside into the heat and brightness and wind, and it was as if she were leading him by the heart.

“You won't guess what I've got for us,” she said over her shoulder as she traipsed up the pathway toward the gravel driveway where he'd parked. She stopped by the shade where a cloth-covered basket was tucked up against the outside wall of her studio.

“I picked them from Gran's garden and washed them. They should be dry and sun warmed.” She knelt to peek beneath the cloth. “Yep. I hope you like berries.”

“I've been known to eat my share.”

“Excellent.” Her smile made his soul sigh.

“Where's the launch?” He hadn't spotted it when he'd come in; mostly he'd wanted to find her first. He opened the passenger door for her and as she brushed close, bringing with her the scent of fabric softener and strawberries, his senses filled
with her. Her beauty, her gentleness, her graceful movements, her peaceful presence.

“Thanks for doing this with me,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion, raw with honesty. “It means a lot to me to have you here like this.”

“For me, too.”

She eased onto the seat, and their gazes met. Locked. William realized he felt renewed. The morning seemed more joyful, the sun more cheerful and the wind more refreshing when he was with her. He was simply glad it was. It had been a long time coming, but he was finally out of the dark of his life, starting to live again. While he would never be the same or forget what he'd lost, it felt good to appreciate this life. This day.

This friendship.

 

Perfect peace. That's what it was like floating the river with William. Aubrey tried to take it all in and memorize each detail—the clear, gurgling river, the amber grasses drying on the riverbanks, the rustling cottonwoods stretching overhead and their dappled shade. But really, all of that was background. William was seated behind her on the board seat. The sun was behind them and she stayed in his broad-shouldered shadow. And felt protected.

Was she dazzled? Yes. One hundred percent.

“Look up ahead.” William leaned close to speak
against her ear. “The canyon's coming up around this bend.”

His nearness brightened her. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the secret love she felt down deep and hidden, where it belonged.

“Would you do me a favor?”

Anything, her heart answered with sheer devotion. Why couldn't she hold back these feelings?

“Would you mind digging into the basket? I've got my camera in there. I want to take a few shots.”

“Sure.”

Their fingers touched and she felt it all the way to her soul—and pretended she didn't. She tried hard to concentrate on the music of the river lulling them around a wide sweeping curve and offering an even more breathtaking view. A sweeping green meadow dotted with cheerful yellow sunflowers, vibrant coneflowers and crimson Indian paintbrush swept up the reaching hills on either side of the river.

“Look.” William eased the paddle out of the water and leaned so close she could feel his heart beat. “Up there, near that stump.”

She was overwhelmed by him. So out of her realm of experience. Tender feelings kept rising up until all she could feel was joy. All around her sunlight gleamed on calm waters and smiled down on the flowers. She still didn't see what William had spotted until he brushed his hand with hers
and gestured. There, barely taller than the fat seed-heavy tips of the wild grasses, was a tiny fawn. Soft and downy, the delicate creature lay perfectly still. Its soft brown coat was sprinkled with snowy-white speckles. Its dainty ears pricked in their direction. Big chocolate eyes studied them with innocent wonder.

Aubrey felt William behind her and heard the board seat creak with his weight as he leaned in for the shot. The man-made click of the shutter, as quiet as it was, was a shock in the peaceful lull. The fawn didn't move, but another had risen up out of the grass to stand and stare beside its twin. Identical little faces studied the intruders. William's shutter continued to click until a soft sound came from the edge of the meadow, and the fawns blurred into motion. In three bounds they were gone from sight, disappearing into the shelter of the trees.

“Breathtaking,” William whispered, his camera silent.

Yes, breathtaking was the word. The connection she felt with him was not superficial, but deeper—one of the soul. She'd never felt like this before in her life. It was a terrifying combination of complete vulnerability, peaceful companionship. Being with William was like having all her best blessings rolled up into one. William was the man she'd always hoped to fall in love with—a strong,
kind man who saw her, who accepted her and respected her, and who would never let her down.

She was so in love with him. And if she wasn't careful, then it was going to show. William would know. And, what if he didn't feel this, too? What if he never would?

William panned with his camera for a few more shots but didn't take any. He studied her over the viewfinder. “Good thing I brought this. I almost left it at home.”

“You got both of the fawns?”

“Yep. Talk about perfect timing, huh? You know, I'm taking pictures again.”

“I noticed.” There was so much she didn't dare let herself say. She held back all the feelings in her heart with every last ounce of her might. “You have to be glad to be working again.”

“It's all because of you.”

The ability to speak completely left her. All she could do was manage a nod. Did he know how amazing he was? Graced by light, guarded by the silent trees like loyal sentries behind him, he dazzled her. He was everything good and decent and right in a man. Everything a girl could dream of.

Everything she had ever dreamed of.

“Aubrey, you've been real quiet. Are you okay?”

She twisted around and there it was, the concern on his handsome face. Why did that make pain
slice through her heart? “I'm good. It's just hot. I didn't expect it to be quite this hot.”

“It's a scorcher. Want some water?” He pulled a small bottle of water out of his pack. “Here.”

She reached to take it, doing her best to avoid his fingers with hers and his smile. “Just what I need. Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

William eased back on the bench and watched as she took a sip of water. Having her with him today was like a gift. She improved his day. She was becoming his inspiration, apparently, since he had his camera with him again. Powerful affection filled him. Overwhelmed him. Carried him away like the current guiding them. He didn't know where this strong caring was coming from or why. Perhaps it was gratitude that she was here.

He reached for the little bucket of berries she'd brought. “Do you mind?”

“It's why I brought them.”

Her smile did him in—made his world shift and blur. It was like changing a lens—there was that flash of a moment before his eyes adjusted as he brought a scene into crisp focus. When he saw clearly again, he had a handful of ripe, juicy strawberries and Aubrey bent close. Her silken strands of hair had escaped her ponytail, brushing his jaw.

He was distantly aware of the sides of the small
canyon rising up around them, and the echoing sound of the water against the tall, ever-rising walls.

Concentrate on the scenery, Will, he told himself, but even his own thoughts came distantly, for there was only Aubrey. She was all he could see. Her rose-petal-soft skin and gentleness and heart. Her fingertips brushed him as she took a berry from the few in his hand. He could smell the sweet strawberry scent on the air between them and, without thought, he cupped her chin with his free hand. He'd surprised her; her violet-blue eyes widened and searched his.

Overwhelming tenderness for her pummeled him like a blow to his chest. Or maybe that was simply his heart unbreaking. Crisp, keen-edged affection overwhelmed him, pulling him along like gravity to the river. He leaned close and then closer, unable to stop this new, all-consuming feeling for her. His mouth hovered a scant inch over hers. “Okay?”

“Yes.” The river's current quickened, and the moment he brushed his lips to hers, the canoe began a slow, graceful spin. Aubrey closed her eyes. This was her first real kiss, and it was perfection. His kiss was soft and reverent and real. This was real and it was happening.

He loves me, her heart whispered. Sweet devotion filled her until he was all she could see. Her head was spinning—no, that was the canoe. William broke the kiss, but neither of them moved. The canoe was drifting and scenery was going by.
She had no idea what to say. Gratitude filled her when he smiled.

He poured the berries into her palm. “I think I'd better right this boat before we crash into the bank.”

“Crashing would be bad.” It was all she could think of to say. She watched as he slipped the oar into the water. She should help him. She was perfectly capable of paddling, but she was frozen in place, so filled with rising hopes that she felt higher than the sun shining in the sky.

Sometimes dreams really did come true, she thought, but her cell began to ring. Here? In the canyon? Then she realized they had drifted safely through. William had straightened them out and the main country road was in sight.

Katherine's cell number was on the display, so she answered it. “Hello?”

“Jonas opened his eyes.” Katherine's voice sounded rushed. “Dad said we should all get to the hospital.”

That couldn't be good news. Aubrey flipped her phone shut. “I'm sorry. Jonas—”

“I heard.” William's face had shuttered. For a moment, he looked as granite-hard and remote as the canyon walls, then he smiled at her, and the look he sent her was pure warmth.

 

How could he have done such a thing? The weight of it nearly destroyed him as he rowed
back to the launch and hurried straight to the hospital. William couldn't even guess at what Aubrey was thinking of him; strain showed on her face. Of course, she had Jonas and her family on her mind, but beyond that, was she mad at him? Disappointed in him?

Why wouldn't she be? He was angry and disappointed in himself. Kissing her like that. What had he been thinking? That was the problem. He hadn't been thinking. He'd acted on pure tender feelings he didn't even know were there. He liked her, sure he did. He cared for her very much.