Everyday Blessings (7 page)

He could feel the dark within him, and yet it was not all that he felt. He was aware of the brilliant sunshine, the vibrant summer's heat, the whispering of the green leaves overhead and the warm life of Jet's coat as he nickered after Aubrey. And Aubrey…she made him feel less alone. Every step she took away from him made that lonesomeness return.

She lifted her fingers in a little wave. “Take care, William. Jet, it was nice meeting you, handsome.”

The gelding nickered while William stood glued in place, once again unable to speak. Why was it that once again in her presence he longed for his camera? That suddenly he was able to see more of the world and feel his faith?

She moved with elegance and presence; flawlessly except for the limp in her left leg. He'd noticed it before, but he focused on it now. What had happened? He wanted to know more about her. He didn't mean to call out to her. He didn't know he was
asking her until he heard his own voice. “Aubrey. Do you want to go riding with me sometime?”

She spun on her heels, one hand lifting to shade her eyes from the glare of the sun as she studied him. For a moment he feared she was going to turn him down, think him a fool for asking.

So, even more impulsively, he added, “Jet wanted me to ask you. He said he'd like the company.”

A beaming smile lit up her lovely face. “I'd like that. I'll talk to Annie about it and see what she thinks.”

“Then I'll be in touch.”

The sunlight seemed to follow her as she turned and picked her way across the rocky border between the mowed grass and the gravel driveway. Even the trees seems to quiet as she passed beneath their boughs, as if they, too, were charmed by her.

She kept her head down as she opened her door and slid behind the wheel. With the sunshine full strength on the windshield, William could see her clearly—every freckle, every curve of her soft petal complexion and her subtle frown of concentration as she buckled herself in and started the engine.

He would never love another woman again. Love had brought him nothing but pain. And it was a moot point anyway, considering that his heart was broken beyond repair. So, why couldn't he
turn away from her? She swiped the fringe of golden bangs out her eyes with slender artist's fingers. Light caught on the tiny gold cross at her throat with a quick flash of brilliance that blinded him.

Unmoving, he listened to the crunch of gravel beneath the tires as her vehicle backed up and away. For one brief moment, their eyes met through the driver's-side window. Across the bright sunlight and deepening shadows, William's soul stirred. He watched the road until there was nothing more of her than a glint of sunlight reflecting on the vehicle's rear window. Then only a plume of dust. Then nothing.

Nothing at all.

J
et wanted me to ask you. He said he'd like the company.
William's words stayed on her mind through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, even when she was supposed to be concentrating on her Bible study class. Or rather, the lessons of her Bible study class, since it was now over.

Her sister was in the desk across the aisle from her, jamming books into her book bag. “Great class. Hey, so we haven't had time to talk yet today. How did the delivery go?”

“Fine. Just like all the others.” She could see her sister coming from a mile away. She gathered up her Bible study materials and slid them neatly into her tote. What she should be doing was not thinking about William, right? Ava wasn't helping. “Will you need help with deliveries tomorrow?”

As if she hadn't heard the question, Ava kept
right on talking as she hopped to her feet and wrestled her enormous tote onto her shoulder. “Was he glad to see you? Did you get a chance to talk with him? Did he like my cake?”

“I don't know if he did, since I delivered the cake and left.”

“Ooh! You're avoiding telling me stuff on purpose. I know it.”

Aubrey settled her book bag's strap on her shoulder. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage this behavior. “You left the keys on the desk, Av.”

“I did?” Completely unaware, Ava pivoted in the aisle, spotted her keys, scooped them up and led the way to the classroom door.

Aubrey fell in beside her and they trailed the small crowd filing into the hall. It was fairly crowded for a July evening, and other classes were getting out, too. The hallway echoed with so much commotion. Was it her imagination or did it seem louder tonight than other nights? Louder because of the absolute stillness and peace she'd found on William's mountain.

There she went again. Wasn't she trying to
stop
thinking about the man?

Ava turned to her, eyes full of mischief. “Okay, I need the scoop.”

Uh-oh. It was a twin thing. She could tell exactly what her sister was thinking, and there was no way she wanted to talk about William. She
wanted to
avoid
discussing William, and the reasons were ones she didn't want to examine too closely. So she went on the offensive. “I hear Spence scared away another prospective girlfriend.”

“Sorry, but like that's gonna work. I am the master of distraction. I was trying to get to the bottom of this William thing.”

As if she needed help thinking of William. “There is no William thing. Honestly.”

“Yes, but you want there to be.”

How was she going to deny that? “Have I said anything? No. Not one word. You're reading too much into this.”

“Okay, you might not have said anything, but it's there at the back of your mind. Admit it.”

“I'll do no such thing. You have romance on the brain.”

“I know. It comes from being deliriously happy. You should try it.”

“I think I'll skip, thanks.” Really, a woman didn't need a wedding ring to be happy. Wasn't her life perfectly fine the way it was?

Yes. So that wasn't the reason she kept thinking about William and his offer to ride together. He had looked good astride his midnight-black horse. Powerful. Essentially masculine. As if hewn of rock, like the mountains that had dominated the horizon behind him. Tender feelings rose through
her, but they were
only
protective feelings. She thought of all she knew about William, of his losses and his remoteness. She wasn't interested in him; she wasn't the kind of girl who went around knowingly making mistakes. And how big of a mistake would it be to let herself care deeply for a man who wasn't interested in her? It'd be huge. Enormous. Catastrophic.

“Change of subject,” she told Ava, and meant it. There was only one thing that was going to help her put aside every thought of William. Every sigh of admiration. Every ounce of sympathy. “I'm in the mood for chocolate. Want to stop by the ice creamery per usual and pig out on sundaes?”

“Have I ever said no to that?” Ava boldly led the way along the crowded hall, her mammoth bag weighing down her left shoulder. “Hey, I'm kinda tight right now. How about you buy the sundaes, and I'll get 'em next week?”

“Deal.”

Poor Ava. Aubrey kept behind her in the hallway, because no one was better than plowing a path through a crowd than her twin. She wondered how on earth she could help her sister more. Business wasn't exactly beating down her bakery shop's front door, but in time Aubrey knew that would change. Jonas was at the forefront of her family's energy, and that's why the bakery had been operating on limited hours. She opened her
mouth to offer to man the shop on her days off, but something held her back.

William's invitation.

Wasn't she going to stop thinking about him? Frustration rolled through her. Why was William sticking in her mind like glue?

Because he wasn't in her mind, but her heart. It was hard
not
to have sympathy for him. He was a nice man; it was impossible not to like him. But that was all. She wasn't romantically interested in him. Talk about a totally out there idea.

She was just glad to think about trail riding again. It wasn't safe to ride alone in the backcountry, and she'd lost her trail-riding friend years ago when September's job transferred her north to Whitefish. So, the idea of having a buddy to ride with into the wilderness sounded like a wonderful opportunity.

Oops. What was it going to take to stop thinking about him?

“Okay, what's on your mind? I can tell something's going on.” Ava led the way out the doorway and into the hot, bright evening. “I've never seen you so spacey.”

“It's been a long day.” It was called a diversionary tactic, but it was also the truth. She'd been up early to help Dorrie with the kids, then a shift at the bookstore after which she helped with Ava's deliveries, then Bible study and it wasn't over yet.

A shout rose above the din of conversation surrounding them. “Hey, you two!”

It was Marin, the youth pastor and a family friend, making her way across the parking lot, hurrying to catch up with them. “Look what I have for you. More donations for the auction.”

Aubrey could tell by Marin's excitement that it was something good. She crowded close to see the computer-printed sheet Marin was holding. There was an image of a framed work of art—by William Corey. What were the chances?

“Wow.” Ava pushed close to see, too. “That's amazing. We have two other originals, you know.”

“I know.” Marin was nearly hopping in place. “This is phenomenal. One of my kids just brought this to our youth group meeting. He said his family wanted to help, that Jonas had helped them out once. See? Goodness always makes the world a better place. Aubrey, you can upload this onto your Web site, right?”

“Sure.” She saw that the e-mail address of the kid and his family were printed on the sheet, so she could contact them for more information. The trick was going to be keeping her no-William-thoughts vow. Especially with the gorgeous photograph of his in hand.

Aubrey folded the page in half and carefully stuck it in her book bag. “Thanks, Marin. I know you've been behind a lot of the fund-raising ideas.”

“Danielle can stay in denial, maybe that's better for her, but she's going to need help.”

“She says she feels guilty.”

“It doesn't change the fact. It's a generous idea to give the proceeds in Jonas's name to the fund. It's also something we're praying hard she won't need herself.”

“Us, too.” Aubrey had never doubted her church family was a blessing. Now she knew how very much. “I can't believe how big this auction is getting.”

“The donations still keep coming in,” Marin agreed. “Oh, I was supposed to tell you two something else, too. When I remember, I'll e-mail it to you. Let me know if there's anything else I can do. Anything, okay?”

“Have a good evening, Marin.” Aubrey tugged her little notebook from her bag and slid the folded page into it for safekeeping.

“You two have a safe trip home. I'm keeping your family in prayer.”

Something they'd heard too many times to count since they'd stepped foot inside the auxiliary hall this evening. And not just this evening, but since the moment the news about Jonas's shooting had broken.

“We are so blessed,” she said to her twin when they were alone in the SUV. “Sometimes you never take a look to really see it.”

“And sometimes you do.” Ava started the engine and, when the warning bell dinged, remembered to buckle her seat belt. “Now, are you going to spill? I have to know what's bothering you.”

“It's William. And before you leap to conclusions, it's not for the reasons you think. He's had a hard time of it. Not everyone is as blessed as we are, with family and friends and a community.”

“That's true. You know, Spence mentioned to me that he thought William was a good guy.”

“Does Spence know everyone?”

“Our brother is apparently cooler than we think he is. Weird, huh?” Ava put the SUV into gear and checked for other cars. “Spence said William is a decent man, high praise from our critical brother. William gives heavily to the united churches charities. Who knew? Anyway, he's handsome and totally a Mr. Wishable and he likes you.”

“Right.” Aubrey shook her head. Ava. What was she going to do about her sister? Ava was so not in touch with the real world. Her head was always in the clouds. “Trust me, it's not like that, and I wouldn't want it to be. He's not head over heels over me.”

“Why not you? You're a cutie.”

“You have to say that. I look just like you.”

“Yes, but you're not a disaster like I am. That ought to make you a much better catch than I ever
was. So, it only stands to reason that you'll find an even more awesome dude to fall in love with you. Why not William?”

“There's something terribly flawed with your reasoning abilities.”

“Okay, that's true, but I'm sure about this. Really.” She checked the mirror again and eased out of the parking spot.

William. Why did her thoughts zero back in on him? But it was more than simple thoughts, she realized. She cared about him. Really, truly cared. Whatever hardship came her way, she had family around her. Loving, supportive family to cushion her. When hardship came to her family, she had a loving extended family in friends and in the church. But what did William have?

Alone on his mountain, he had no one. No one at all. Her heart ached for him, and ached in a way that it never had before.

 

William left his riding boots in the mudroom off the back door and wandered through the house to the echoing kitchen. Early-evening shadows crept through the corners of the room, but the bakery box Aubrey had brought him sat square in the center of the island like a bright pink beacon. Earlier, he'd pushed Jet far into the high backcountry where there was no single sign of civilization, where the wilderness was breathtaking so he
would have some chance of getting Aubrey out of his mind.

No deal. He'd been unable to do it. Aubrey's wholesomeness had reached right in and taken a hold of him with such force that he could still feel it hours later. Nothing could make it fade.

She was unlike any woman he'd even known. She was true goodness. It was as obvious as the sun in the sky and how easily Jet had trusted her. How easily
he
had trusted her.

Had he made a mistake asking her to ride with him? He didn't know. But he hoped that she was exactly what he needed.

In such a short time, she had changed him. She was like a little drop of goodness falling into his life, and she made him aware of the automaton he'd become. He'd survived by putting one foot in front of the other and just counting the days go by. That's how he'd been living, empty of hope, faith, everything. And he couldn't do it anymore.

He'd never forget the way she'd looked holding Jonas's little girl in that kitchen the first time they met, or in the chapel with the light gracing her. He'd never forget how she'd looked earlier today dappled with sunlight, lovely as a summer's dawn. That's what made him sit down to the computer at the built-in desk in the family room.

It was the hope for hope that made him begin to type—the hope that his life wouldn't always be like this.

 

It was a rare night home in their apartment and Aubrey was thankful for it. At the kitchen table, she savored the rich chocolate sundae they'd picked up on the way home and checked off things on the daily to-do list. The kids were accounted for—Dad and Dorrie were watching them tonight. Danielle was at the hospital. Jonas was reported to have incrementally improved, another small victory.

All she had left to do was e-mail the donors Marin had given her tonight. She glanced at the time on her computer screen. That would mean she'd have just enough time to squeeze in a few minutes of reading before prayers and bedtime. It had been another long day, but the days were getting a little easier. She was grateful for that.

As she waited for her modem to connect, she caught sight of Ava in the living room, her feet up on the coffee table, chatting away to her fiancé. She looked so happy, and Aubrey was thankful for that, too. Her twin had had a long string of unhappy romances, so she totally deserved the great guy who'd fallen in love with her.

What was it like to be that much in love? Aubrey didn't know. Sure, she loved reading inspirational romances and a good wholesome romantic comedy and those wonderful classics
where true love always prevailed, but that wasn't the same as actually experiencing her own happily-ever-after.

Not that she
had
to have one, but it sure seemed nice. She'd watched so many of her friends find it, and now her sisters. But she'd never come close. She'd spent many of her high-school years recovering from a bad riding accident. Through her early twenties, she'd walked first with a walker, then hand crutches and then a cane. She'd sported a serious limp through her midtwenties. While the limp had faded, her shyness had not. Not dating had become such a habit she didn't even know how to go about breaking it.