Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Bayou Sweetheart\The Firefighter's New Family\Season of Redemption (32 page)

The pastor's message the Sunday Devon had attended hung in her thoughts. She'd allowed her worries to cover the hope she'd felt that day. Even the choir's anthem had become her prayer.
I need Thee, oh, I need Thee
. Yet she didn't hear if the Lord spoke to her or not. Instead, she listened to her own negativity.

But Devon had called the evening of her appointment to see about her cast. When she heard his voice, her heart sang, and she told him the good news. She had a walking cast, and though she still had to be careful and keep the crutches handy, she had taken her first careful step, balancing her body against the weight of her left leg.

Joey's giggle followed Kaylee's, and Ashley lifted her head from her musing to see what was funny. A butterfly had rested on a flower Kaylee had picked from the garden to fill a small vase Devon had given her. With their exuberance, it flitted away.

Freedom. What would it be like to fly away from danger at will? To sense when to stay and when to go? She thought she had that sense, that wisdom, but she'd been wrong. Since meeting Devon, she could not measure her own judgment. What made her feel whole tore her apart. It was senseless.

The screen door banged, and she turned, seeing Devon come from the house carrying a plate of burgers covered in plastic wrap. He checked the grill and set the plate on the table before heading her way. “Need a refill?”

She eyed her iced tea and shook her head. “I'm fine.” No, the tea was fine. She was a mess.

“Good.” He slipped into the nearby chair. “We haven't really had private time to talk.” He made a subtle motion toward the children. “I'm letting things slide for now. I want to give Gina time to cool down and think about the offer. I hope she'll reconsider.”

His positive attitude made her envy him. “You still think she'll come around.”

He gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “Notice I said hope.” He leaned closer. “Remember the Bible verse that Sunday?
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding
. I memorized it.” He pressed his shoulders against the canvas chair back. “Sometimes I wonder how I've gotten by without those words.”

She lowered her eyes as shame knotted in her chest. She'd been the strong Christian. Devon hadn't been as much. So what happened? She forced her head upward. “I'm glad the message gave you hope...and trust.” Then a confession spiraled to her throat. “I wish I could cling to those words as well as you do.”

A look of surprise registered on his face, then faded as quickly. “Why can't it, Ashley?”

“I wish I knew. I take one negative moment in my life and use it as my life pattern.” Her example surged through her. “It's almost as if I see it as my goal rather than a lesson to help my life be better.” She pressed her hand to her chest, fearing her heart would break through. “I don't know why I'm telling you this.”

“Because I want to know about you. Can't you see that? Friends share their hearts. You have a difficult time doing that.”

“I wasn't allowed to when I was growing up. I kept my hurts and comments to myself. It was safer.”

His expression darkened. “Is this about your mother?” He shook his head. “I probably shouldn't have asked, but I heard a little of what you and Neely talked about the last time I was there.”

“I felt badly about that.” She leaned closer and touched his hand, knowing she had to be open. “I guessed you wanted to know more, and I couldn't talk about it then. I feel guilty that I have negative feelings about my mother, and I took it out on you.” Her throat tightened with emotion as unwanted tears blurred her vision. “I'm sorry. I am so very sorry.”

His hands wrapped around hers. “I knew you were upset. I wasn't sure why, and I thought it was because of me. I thought I'd done something to anger you. I worry about being presumptuous. I've told you that.” His fingers brushed the top of her hand, soothing her mind.

“Devon, do you see that you're holding something, too? You spent your life since marriage believing you couldn't meet Gina's needs, and it wasn't you at all.”

His fingers weaved through hers. “I guess we're both dealing with baggage we don't need anymore.”

She pressed her free hand over his. “You're right. Let's work on that.”

For the first time that day, they smiled.

He glanced toward the barbecue. “I'd better get those burgers cooked before we hear complaints from the flower children.”

She turned her head and laughed again. Joey and Kaylee had used the flowers they'd picked to decorate their hair. They reminded her of the flower children she'd seen in photos from the seventies.

Joey ran toward her, his arms opened and flailing up and down. “I'm a butterfly, Mama.”

“You are. You're my butterfly.” And one day she prayed she could be one, too. Free of her fears. Her gaze drifted to Devon, the kind of man any woman could love.

Chapter Eleven

D
evon ascended the stairs behind Ashley, making sure she didn't have a problem with her new walking cast. A weight had lifted from him today when they'd talked about important things that opened doors of understanding.

After they'd eaten, Joey played with Kaylee, and then he fell asleep on the floor. When nine o'clock showed on the clock, Devon laid him on the guest bed while Kaylee readied herself for sleep. His custom of reading to her before bedtime was waylaid by Ashley's presence. Kaylee hadn't mentioned it, but his own guilt did. He would read twice as much the next time she stayed with him.

When Ashley reached the top of the stairs, she grasped the handrail and faced him. “Your home is lovely. I see a piece of you in every room. I'd thought I might see more of...” She frowned. “I should keep my mouth shut.”

“You mean Gina, and you don't have to avoid any comments.” He'd reached her and slid his arm around her back. “She didn't have a lot of interest in decorating. I was surprised. I asked her opinion, and she said yes to most everything I suggested.” He shook his head, remembering what he'd thought back then. “She seemed so agreeable and willing to cooperate. I was thrilled, but obviously I was naive. I think that was part of her illness showing up in our lives that early.”

“Depression causes those reactions, I've heard.”

“This way.” He guided her down the hall to the sitting room off his bedroom where the door opened to the second-floor balcony. “Here's your chair and the view.” He motioned to the full sky above, now dissipating to lavender and deep red. “It'll be ten soon. That's when they start.”

“Really special. And I love the sitting room. My bedroom is small compared to this one.”

“The others are smaller.” He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I'm going to check on the kids one more time, and then I'll run down and bring us up a treat.”

She tilted her head around. “Take your time. I'm enjoying the warm breeze and the sunset.”

He headed downstairs, reviewing the day they'd had. A good day. The kids were great and got along well. The talk with Ashley had eased the tension between them, and he'd learned something new. He'd allowed a warped view of himself to influence his relationship with her. Now having grasped his new perspective, he would work to help Ashley see that her mother's behavior didn't affect who she was. He hoped that was all that held her back.

In the kitchen, he poured drinks and scooped up portions of the peach cobbler Ashley had brought to the picnic, then headed up the stairs. By the time he'd stepped onto the balcony, the inky sky displayed only a sliver of moon, adding to the darkness.

Ashley looked over her shoulder. “Good night for fireworks.”

His mind flashed. A good night for many things. “It is.” He handed her the dessert and set her drink on the table beside her. When he settled in the chair, he leaned back and drew in the fresh air, cooler now that the sun had set.

Though he would enjoy the fireworks, his concentration stayed more on Ashley so close beside him, the fragrance of flowers wrapped around him. Her lotion. He'd smelled it before, and he'd seen her use it on her hands.

He picked up the cobbler as perfect as Ashley. Sweet, tender. He chuckled and realized she'd heard him. “You can do about anything, even bake the best peach cobbler I've ever had.”

“Thank you, but you should know I can't do everything.”

Her gaze captured his, and he understood too well what she meant. She couldn't make a decision, one that he longed for her to make. He slipped his hand over hers and brushed the back with his palm.

Instead of pulling away, Ashley rotated her hand and weaved her fingers through his. As she squeezed, the first sizzle of fireworks soared into the sky, golden squiggles that buzzed away with another burst like an orange chrysanthemum.

Another followed, and she released his fingers, shifted forward and managed to stand, her fingers grasping the balcony railing.

Devon rose and stood beside her, slipping his arm around her back as she leaned into him. It was as if they'd never talked about remaining friends only. Tonight a different essence filled the night and his heart. His hope warmed him. Words clung to his lips. Things he longed to say but feared her rejection.

Wisdom told him to keep his declaration inside. Instead, he refocused on the colorful display filling the sky while his senses lavished in Ashley's softness at his side, her tender touch.

“What a night.” She turned to him, their lips so close he could taste the sweetness.

Willing determination, he nodded. “Special.”

She dragged in a deep breath. “Very.”

The single word meant so much to him. The sound enveloped his being. Very. He drew her closer, and she yielded as the sky burst into color, spinning, soaring, blossoming like flowers. His heart stood still, and when he gazed at her, she tilted her face upward, offering her lips. He met them, his pulse soaring. Her lips touched his, gentle yet firm, alive and sweet. Her arms raised around his neck, and his hopes swelled and spiraled like the colors in the sky.

They turned together at the final blast when the dark sky turned into a prism of light and color, shapes and motion, the same sensations he'd experienced with the kiss.

As the colors faded and drifted to the ground, leaving hazy smoke in the sky, he guided Ashley into the chair and settled beside her, wanting to talk but not knowing what to say that wouldn't turn her “very” response into leaden haze.

“It's late. I should go.” Her voice seemed a whisper.

Though he had to work tomorrow, he hated the night to end. “Now? You sure?”

“Please.”

Her tone answered his question. Tonight was not the moment for making sense of what they'd just shared. He'd waited this long while his feelings grew. He could wait a little longer.

* * *

If she were a slammer, Ashley would have banged the kitchen cabinet door closed when she arrived home from Devon's. He'd been attentive as always, carrying Joey up to his guest room and tucking him into bed before helping her up the stairs to view the fireworks. When they had returned to the first floor, he'd promised to bring back her dishes from the picnic tomorrow.

Tomorrow. How could she face him in the daylight, with the moon and stars no longer in the sky? Face him after the glorious colors bursting and flitting through the air now that reality had set in.

How could she face herself? She'd wanted the kiss as badly as he did. Denying her feelings compared to swallowing a boulder. Impossible. Her thoughts centered around Devon. His image hung in her mind no matter what she did. She smiled thinking of his witty comments or his thoughtful ways. He'd enveloped her life.

But in the light of day, every sound of a siren or every newscast of a fire or another tragedy, caused bile to rise in her throat. Her stomach knotted into a tangle of fear and foreshadowing. One day someone would come to her door to bear the horrible news that her husband had been killed while on duty. He'd died to save others' lives.

Too real. Too horrifying. She'd experienced that once. Three years had passed since the doorbell had rung and the uniformed men appeared on her porch. Never again. The uniforms would be different, but the message would be the same. Died in the line of duty to protect, to save, to aid. Who would protect her then? Who would save her next time? She didn't have the strength to live through it again.

She sank onto a kitchen chair and buried her face in her hands, tears wetting her fingers, her center barraged with hopes and dreams slamming into the darker images.
Lord, why? Why does this kind, loving, caring man have a career that screamed death and loss? Why can't I overcome my fears and worries?

Her thoughts shriveled as silence filled her mind. From somewhere deep, words flowed into her thoughts like a soft voice, so hushed she could barely make out the sounds.
Trust in the Lord—He is your help and shield
.

She ran her knuckles across her damp eyes and inched her head upward, searching for the source of the voice, yet she knew the search would be fruitless. God's Word had spoken a reminder of her faith. Trust in the Lord and lean not on her own understanding.

Trust.
The word that caught in her throat and muddied her mind.

“Lord, help me trust You.” Her voice broke the silence of her kitchen. She'd sometimes questioned the depth of her faith. Tonight offered another example of why she asked the question. A Christian had to lay her burdens at Jesus' feet and walk away, not cling to them as if they were precious gifts.

She rose and slid the chair beneath the table, swallowed a drink of water from the glass she'd filled and poured the rest into the sink. She turned off the light and made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. With each step, she offered a whispered prayer. “I lay my burdens at Your feet and trust in You, Lord.”

* * *

As Devon listened to Kaylee singing to herself from the living room, he sat in the kitchen staring at the clock. He'd returned Ashley's dishes from the picnic the next day as he'd promised, but he'd only set them on the counter and made an excuse to leave.

He cared more than he could say, but he was tired of the ups and downs with Ashley. Her mind had been dented by something in her past—her mother, her last romantic experience or a deep love for her deceased husband that she couldn't move past. Something. If she cared enough she would tell him, screamed in his mind. He'd admitted the flaw he thought had caused his failed marriage. Now he'd learned the truth. Though his work schedule didn't help the situation, the greatest issue now eased his mind. Gina had an illness she couldn't control, one that would never be cured.

Since he'd opened up, why couldn't Ashley tell him what bothered her? If she did, they could make it right, but if she clung to the problem, it would fester like a wound until any hope for a relationship would be lost. His heart grew heavy with the idea.

His earlier worry vanished when after a short time Joey and Kaylee melded into an easy relationship. No more comments about age or gender. They'd become like brother and sister. His pulse clipped as the image settled in his mind.

Since the touchy encounter with Ashley, he'd bitten off his nose to spite his face, as the old saying went. He missed Joey, and Kaylee asked more than once why they hadn't visited Ashley and Joey. He rose and ambled to the living room, observing Kaylee from the doorway. She lay on the sofa, a book propped open on her tummy, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else since her eyes were closed and she sang a song about wishing on a star. He recognized it from one of the CDs she enjoyed.

“You sing pretty.” He moved closer and sat on the edge of the sofa near her feet. He reached out to tickle them, and she jerked them up.

She grinned, trying to tuck her feet beneath the cushion he was sitting on.

Devon loved hearing her laugh. “That song's from a movie.”

She nodded.
“Pinocchio.”
She clamped two fingers on her nose and stretched. “If he lied, his nose got longer and longer.”

“You'll never have a long nose, will you?” He hoped she'd say she never lied.

Her expression became thoughtful. “I don't want a long nose.”

That didn't answer his question, but he managed to chuckle. “I think you're a little bored. Should I read to you?” He drew his back straighter. “Better yet, how about you take a turn first?” He motioned toward her stack of books on the table.

“Okay, but you read to me.” She slid the books around, pulled out one and handed it to him.

“Don't you like to read out loud?” He eyed the book and recognized it as one he'd read her often. “I thought your aunt Renee and your mom had you read aloud.”

She shrugged. “Aunt Renee helps me.”

His chest tightened seeing the expression on her face. “Not your mom?”

She lowered her head, evading his eyes. “She's...”

Her hand shifted upward as if touching her nose, and he knew what bothered her. “You can tell me, Kaylee. Remember. I won't ever make you do something you don't want to do.”

Her head shot upward, her gaze latching on to his. “But I want to, Daddy.”

“You want to tell me? That's good.”

“No.” She shook her head as she responded. “Yes, I want to tell you, but what I really want is to live with you.”

His heart careened in his chest. This wasn't what he'd expected, and though he loved hearing her say it, he knew the change would result in a confrontation.

“I'd love to have you here.” He dropped the book beside him and wrapped her in his arms. “But why do you want to leave your aunt Renee's? What's happened?”

Her gaze shifted again. “Mom's...” She sent him a plaintive look. “Mommy's in the hospital again, and I don't know when she'll get out.”

His limbs grew numb, frozen in time. Kaylee cuddled in his protective arms and needed his response. Words weighted his mind. What to say? What to do? He listened, and the answer came. “I'll talk to your aunt Renee when she's home from work. Is that what you'd like?”

“She'll be mad at me.” Her eyes locked with his again.

“All you did was tell me the truth.” He lifted his hand and touched the end of her nose with his index finger. “Your nose is the same size it was this morning.”

His comment brought a grin to her face. “Cuz I didn't fib.”

“Right. You told me what bothered you, and it needed saying.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, sweetheart.” He scooted her onto his lap and wrapped her in his arms. “You know I have to work long hours. We'll have to find a place for you to stay when I'm on duty.”

“With Ashley. I can stay there.” She lifted her head from his shoulder. “I wish we would go visit Ashley now like we always do.”