Love Comes Home (18 page)

Everybody thought Tori went fishing too much. Her mother and father. Kate. Well, not everybody. Not Evie. She was too wrapped up in being in the family way to notice anything Tori did. Jubilant one minute. Distraught the next. Fishing would do Evie good, and she might even go if the weather was perfect.

Evie wasn’t like Kate. Before the war, she enjoyed fishing as long as Mike was along to bait her hook and take the fish off her line if she happened to catch something. Tori had never asked Sammy to do that for her. Never. She could handle her own bait and fish.

When she reached the house, Tori didn’t go inside. There was no need. Her father was still at his shop, and Kate had borrowed Uncle Wyatt’s car to take Lorena to audition for a radio program. Lorena was so excited, she’d been spinning in circles all week. Her little sister could very well be famous one day. She was already in demand at churches in the area.

Her mother’s words about the Lord’s plans fit Lorena better than they did her. He’d blessed Lorena with a beautiful voice and the desire to share that gift with others. But he’d let the war smash Tori’s plans for her life. Now she didn’t want to think about her future.

She had plans for Samantha’s future, but for herself she just took each day as it came. The Bible said to think on the day and not store up for a future a person might not have. Futures weren’t guaranteed. How well she knew that.

She let out a long breath and headed toward the barn for her bait bucket. Samantha had helped her dig for worms after the rain last week, squealing with delight each time she managed to grab one out of the dirt. But she was too young to sit quietly and enjoy the finer moments of fishing. Tori’s mother was right. It was a good place to think, but even more, it could be a place not to think all that much about anything except the breeze in her face and the rippling rings on the pond when a fish kissed the surface of the water.

At the pond, she settled in her favorite spot, baited her hook, and cast her line in the water. Inch by inch her body relaxed in the sunshine. The pond was peaceful. Birds flew between the trees, building nests and chirping at one another. Buzzards circled high in the sky, floating in and out of sight on the air currents. A couple of rabbits popped out of the
bushes. They paid her scant notice as they hopped on about their business.

The word “Look!” jumped to her tongue and made Tori miss Samantha that much more. She liked pointing things out to her. Tori pulled in a deep breath and thought about Samantha making cookies with her grandmother or sitting with her on the porch swing while her grandmother told her things her father did when he was little.

Mama Harper liked planting memories of Sammy in his child’s head. A good thing, since Samantha would have no actual memory of him on her own. She didn’t miss him. She didn’t realize her father was missing. Yet. But someday she’d ask about Sammy. Tori had copied every word he’d written in his letters about Samantha in a composition book to give her when that happened. Between the two of them, Tori and Sammy’s mother, they’d make sure Samantha knew her father.

What she might tell her ran through Tori’s head.
Your daddy was funny. His smile
was just like yours. He had a hard time sitting
still. He wanted to help everybody he met. He loved
us. He didn’t want to leave us.

When she heard somebody coming through the trees toward the pond, she smiled and kept her eyes on the water. It would be Graham and his dog. It wouldn’t be Fern. Not making that much noise. Tori rarely saw Fern in the woods or here at the pond, but Tori didn’t have to see her to know she was often there. She just had to feel the odd tingle across the back of her neck.

It used to scare Tori and make her want to shout at Fern to stop watching her. A few times, she had yelled at the woman, but if indeed Fern was back in the trees, she never came out where Tori could see her.

These days Tori didn’t let it bother her. If she got the feeling Fern was there, she simply rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged it off. In some ways it made fishing by herself at the pond easier. Any different noise, she blamed on Fern and kept fishing.

She kept fishing now, setting her hook when her cork bobbed, and waited for Graham to come out of the trees. Graham was such a part of the woods and pond that she expected him to show up whenever she was fishing. She liked hearing him talk in those muted tones that had a way of blending into the day.

She reeled in her line. The fish was a keeper if she could catch some more to go with it. She was putting it on her stringer when someone spoke behind her.

“Hello, Victoria.”

It wasn’t Graham. She was so surprised she dropped the fish and it slid back into the water.

“Clay.” She whirled around and stumbled over her fishing pole on the ground.

He reached a hand out to steady her. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you’d hear me coming.”

“I did, but I figured it was Graham.” Tori stepped back from him a little too quickly and stumbled again. Her foot slid down into the mud at the pond edge and she threw out her arms to catch her balance.

“Watch out.” Clay dropped his cane pole and grabbed her before she fell backward into the water.

His arm was strong around her and she caught the fresh scent of soap as she leaned against him in order to jerk her foot free. She started to pull away from him then, but it seemed wiser to get back on solid ground before they both ended up
in the pond. He kept his arm around her as she climbed the bank. Her heart hammered inside her chest. Only from the surprise of seeing him there and then almost falling. It had nothing to do with his arm around her.

“Thank you,” she said politely, stepping away from him. “I’m not usually so clumsy. I haven’t fallen in the pond since I was fifteen.”

She was sorry for that memory as soon as her words summoned it up. She and Sammy had both fallen in the pond that summer day. But being clumsy had nothing to do with it. The hot day and Sammy pushing her in had everything to do with it. When he reached a hand to help her out, she’d jerked him in too. They had laughed until their sides hurt.

“My fault,” Clay said. “I should have hollered at you when I came out of the trees.”

“What are you doing here?” The question was out before she could stop it, but even to her own ears it sounded rude. It wasn’t even a question that needed asking. They both knew why he was there.

His smile dimmed, but stayed on his face. “Graham told me the fish were biting and I could come catch a mess.”

“Oh.” Tori picked up her fishing pole. Wait until she saw Graham. She knew what he was up to. He was playing Cupid again the way he’d done with Kate and Jay. While that had worked out fine for them, she didn’t need anybody matchmaking for her. She had half a mind to just pick up her stuff and go find Graham right then to make sure he knew that. But the sun was shining, and the fish were still in the pond instead of on her stringer.

“He didn’t think you would mind sharing the pond bank.” Clay began unwinding the line from around his cane pole.

“I didn’t know you liked to fish.” Tori kept her eyes on her bait bucket as she dug out a worm.

“I used to go some with my father before he died.” Clay had the line loose, but he didn’t pick up the hook to bait it. Instead he stared out at the pond as if he’d awakened some memory he was sorry he’d disturbed. Then he shook himself a little. “I don’t have much time for fishing these days. Too busy on the farm.”

Tori cast her line out into the pond, then looked over at Clay. His jaw was tight as though he had his teeth clamped together. Not mad. More sad as he stared at the hook.

“And it hurt too much when you went.” She knew how that felt. Even now after more than a year she sometimes felt Sammy’s loss more acutely at the pond. At the same time, she couldn’t give up fishing. Not and keep her sanity. With Samantha, she made new memories, new times to remember here at the pond. “That would have gotten better after a few times.”

“I guess so. But I never was very good at fishing anyway.”

“Anybody can be good at fishing. If you have the right bait and throw your line in where the fish are.” She looked over at him. He still hadn’t baited his hook. “Did you even bring any bait?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I knew I forgot something.”

The laugh that bubbled out of her as she handed him her bait bucket was a surprise, but it felt good.

“Thanks. I’ll dig you some worms in the barn lot to pay you back.” He pushed a worm on his hook and then stepped away from her to flip his line in the water.

For a while, they fished in silence. The plop of their corks hitting the water and the birds singing gave a lazy summer
feel to the day. At the same time, the air seemed to carry a little extra charge. Clay wasn’t holding a cane pole for the love of fishing. He’d chased her to Graham’s pond, and not because he wanted fish for supper. She watched her cork for the slightest wiggle. Better to think about that than how Clay kept looking over at her. She sensed he wanted to say something but hesitated, unsure of his words.

She felt a little unsure too as she remembered his arm around her when he helped her up the bank. It had been good to lean on somebody. Sometimes she got so tired of being alone. She almost smiled at her thought. She was actually very rarely alone, surrounded by family at the house and people at the store. But the alone she was feeling was a different kind of loneliness. Everything came in twos. The rabbits earlier. The buzzards floating above her. The birds building nests. Pairs. Adam and Eve. Abraham and Sarah. Mary and Joseph.

She stared out at the pond, wishing for a nibble to give her something to do besides think about the man beside her on the pond bank. He was so sweet with his little sisters at the store or church. She’d never seen him say a cross word to them. Ever. He worked hard to take care of his family. A man who wanted to make her part of that family. That was why he was here fishing.

She didn’t know whether she wished he would just come out with whatever he was trying to work up the nerve to say or that he would keep quiet. It was pleasant to fish in companionable silence. She was glad he was there. That made her so unsettled that she moved back from the pond and began reeling in her line. Maybe everybody was right. She was fishing too much.

“Did you catch something?” Clay asked.

“No. I don’t think the fish are biting today.” She caught her hook in one of the eyelets and tightened the line. “Guess I’ll head home.”

“Oh.” He stared at his line. “They don’t seem to be biting for me either.”

“I think you lost your bait awhile ago. The little fish can nibble the worms off without grabbing the hook.” She picked up the bait bucket and held it out toward him. “You want to keep some of the worms?”

“No, guess I’ll give it up too.” He pulled in his line and wound it around the pole.

Tori looked toward the sun sinking in the west. “I suppose it is almost milking time.”

“I don’t have to milk tonight. My brother’s taking care of the cows. So I could go fishing, you know.”

“I see.”

He looked out toward the pond and then back at Tori to push out his next words. “How about, since the fish aren’t biting, that we go to the movies?” His cheeks were red. Maybe from the sun. Maybe from what he’d asked.

She hesitated. For just a second, she thought about sitting in a dark movie theater beside the man looking at her with hope evident in his eyes. Yes was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit back the word. The fact she was even thinking about saying yes made her want to get up on her toes and run the way she used to when she saw Fern. Not because she was frightened of Clay, but because she was frightened of what she was feeling.

She lowered her eyes away from his face. She couldn’t look at him. “It’s nice of you to ask.” She did her best to hide the quiver in her voice. “But I’d best go home.”

He blew out a long breath of air. Then with a hint of challenge, he asked, “Why?”

His question surprised her. She had to have turned him down a hundred times. Maybe more. Each time his smile had faded and his shoulders slumped, but he’d not asked why.

She stared at the ground and wondered what to tell him. That she was afraid? That she wasn’t ready for the feeling his touch had awakened inside her. Nothing like how she’d felt with Sammy. Sammy had been like an extension of herself, a part of her for almost as long as she could remember. But when Clay put his arm around her, it had felt strangely different. And not at all bad.

She hadn’t yet figured out what to say when he stepped closer to her. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” He waited for her to nod. “A friend can tell another friend the truth.”

“If she knows it.” Tori spoke barely over a whisper.

“You know it. You’re just afraid of it.”

She changed his words. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I would hope not. I would do anything for you, Victoria. Anything to make you happy.” He gingerly put his finger under her chin and lifted her face up to look in her eyes.

“Anything?” Tori’s heart was pounding.

“Anything.”

“Then go away.”

He looked as if she’d slapped him with her words. He dropped his hand away from her chin. “Is that what you really want?” His voice was rough with feeling.

“Yes.” Tori made herself keep looking at his face. “It’s not time.”

“Will it ever be time?” He sounded as lost and lonely as she had felt earlier.

She wasn’t sure he expected an answer, but she gave him one. “I don’t know.” She hesitated a second, then went on. “Maybe not.”

He let out another burst of air as if she’d punched him hard in the stomach. He looked away at the pond and blinked a few times before he settled his eyes on her again. “Sammy was my friend. You know that. But he’s not coming back. I wish he was, but he’s not.”

A spark of anger flamed inside her. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“I guess you do.” He reached toward her again, but stayed his hand without touching her. “If you ever need anything, remember we’re friends.”

Without waiting for her to say more, he picked up his pole and walked away. She stared at where he disappeared into the trees. He was gone. Just the way she’d asked. She was glad. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?