“You did, indeed.”
“Oh, my!” Mrs. Baumgarten’s veiny hand fluttered to the neckline of her brown, quilted sweater. “Well, I’m glad you came up here for the holiday. Now you don’t have to be alone.”
The word, alone, reverberated in Amie’s heart. And as she reminded herself that Jesus always stood beside her in spirit, she couldn’t deny the fact she felt lonely. Even so, singleness was her God-given lot in life. Her cross to bear. But, oh! how she’d love to be married and expecting a baby like Nancy.
Seven little girls ran into the room, laughing, jumping, and squealing. Four of the children Amie recognized as the Warren girls, and the rest, she assumed, belonged to Nancy.
“Mama says dinner’s ready,” Emma announced. She was obviously the oldest of the group and, therefore, the spokesperson.
Everyone rose from their places.
Tom politely extended a hand to help Nancy up from the deep-seated armchair.
“Thanks, Tom.” The woman turned to Amie. “I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all.” She paused. “You’d never know that by the way my husband behaves. When Betsy, our youngest, was born, Al said he hated girls. Can you believe that? He hates them?”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Amie shot a glance at Tom who was currently helping the senior citizens to the dining room. “No man could hate his own daughters.”
“He meant it.” Nancy’s eyes lit on Tom and her lovely features brightened. “Back in high school, Tom had a crush on me. I didn’t know it until a few years ago. He never even asked me out. What was I supposed to do, read his mind?” Her smile was lined with obvious ruefulness. “I wish he would have asked me on a date. In fact, I wished I would have married him instead of Al.”
“If wishes were horses we’d all take a ride,” Tom said, obviously having overheard the remark.
Amie sent a gaze upward. “My mom says that all the time.”
“A wise woman.” Grinning, Tom helped Mrs. Gunderson into a chair.
Amie wondered if he’d ever gotten over his “crush.” But what did she care? Tom Anderson’s personal life was none of her concern. They were professional business partners and nothing more.
Tom turned to assist Mr. Gunderson.
“What’s wrong with wishing?” Nancy folded her arms and tilted her head.
“Well, for one thing…” Tom stepped nearer to them. “There’s no point in it when it pertains to the past. As for Al…” His gaze darkened with what could only be earnestness. “We’re all praying for him and once God saves his soul he’ll do right by you and the kids.”
“Yeah, sure, he will.”
Amie understood Nancy’s feelings of doubt. But nothing was too big or too great for God. Then why did Amie waffle?
“Now, Nancy,” Mrs. Baumgarten began, “we’re to pray believing that God will do all we ask. Why, my great niece had a spouse who was an awful carouser, but once he became a Christian, he turned into a wonderful family man. The same can happen for you.”
At that moment, Pastor Warren entered the dining room carrying the turkey, already sliced on a porcelain platter. Setting it down on the table, he looked over at Amie. “Well, hello! I’m sorry I haven’t been much of a host. Katie’s kept me busy in the kitchen.”
“No need to apologize.” Amie was amazed that the guy didn’t mind helping his wife in the kitchen. Amie’s father and brother only ate in the kitchen. They didn’t deign to prepare the food or clean up. And if her family were all home for the holiday this year, all but Mom and Amie would have their faces pasted to a football game on TV—as usual.
“Now there’s a family man for ya.” Mr. Gunderson declared with a wheezy chortle. “It’s only out of love and sacrifice that the good pastor helps in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Harold.” Jake said with a grin. Then he clasped his hands together. “OK, the girls prayed over their food and are eating in the kitchen, so let’s thank the Lord and...dig in!”
Katie entered the room and clasped her husband’s hand. Tom took Amie’s left and Nancy’s right. Warning bells rang in Amie’s being. Nancy was in need because her husband wasn’t the man he should be. Had she glommed onto Tom? He was a nice guy and might well be walking into disaster.
Jake began to pray. But concentration was impossible between her tumultuous thoughts and Tom’s warm palm enveloping hers.
Lord, help me to control my emotions—and my tongue. Give me laryngitis if You have to, Father God. Do anything to keep me from babbling like an idiot. And if I’m wrong about Tom and Nancy, please forgive my suspicious heart.
Tom gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a cue that the dinner prayer had ended. Lifting her head, she found him staring at her. His brows went up as if in silent question.
Amie felt a nip of panic. Had she done something wrong?
A twinkle entered his gaze and he inclined his head, indicating the chair he held out for her. “Are you sitting down or will you eat standing up?”
Relief enveloped her, and she quickly took the seat. Her cheeks grew as warm as the freshly-baked rolls Katie set on the table. Amie sighed. This afternoon would be a long one.
8
Hours later, Amie walked to her car in the frozen night air with Tom at her side. A full moon guided their way. “You really didn’t have to see me out, but thanks.”
“Sure.”
She glimpsed the black velvety sky, amazed at how sharp and clear the stars appeared without Chicago’s city lights and pollution hindering their brilliance. “Wow.” Her breath came out in cloudy puff. “Get a look at God’s creation.”
Tom glanced at the twinkling night sky. “It’s something, all right.”
Reaching her vehicle, Amie attempted to disengage her alarm only to realize she’d never set it. “I was in such a hurry...”
“What?”
“I didn’t activate my car alarm.”
“Nobody would steal your...hot rod around here.” A teasing note rang in his voice while the moon illuminated his features. “In fact, Jake has a habit of leaving his keys in the ignition when he parks his minivan.”
“I could never do that in Chicago.”
“No doubt.”
Opening the door, she tossed her purse into the passenger seat.
“OK, one more time,” Tom said earnestly. “How ‘bout staying overnight with the Warrens as you planned? It took you a good four hours to get up here and it’s another four to get home...that’s a long drive for a turkey dinner. Why don’t you get some sleep and leave tomorrow morning?”
Disappointment snaked through her. “I can’t.”
“You can’t? Or you don’t want to?”
“I can’t. I’ve got so much work at the office.”
“Amie, you’ve got to slow down. You look...worn out.”
The remark stung. “And you sound like my mother.” She poked him in the chest. “And what’s with you and Nancy? Are you trying to fill the husband role because Big Al is deficient in that area?”
“Huh?” Tom looked at her as if she’d grown three horns on her forehead.
Amie tipped her head. “You know what I mean.”
“All I know is I’m trying to be nice to her. Amie, she’s expecting another baby and she’s already got little ones. I know what it’s like not to have a reliable father.”
“But you can’t stand in the gap between Nancy and Big Al. You can’t be the husband Al isn’t.”
“I assure you, that’s not my intention.”
“Well, then, you should know that Nancy said you had a crush on her in high school. She admitted she should have married you instead of Al. It would be easy for emotional bonds to form—especially for Nancy.”
Tom stuck his hands into his heavy jacket, but didn’t say another word.
Amie figured she’d said too much and climbed into her car. It was none of her business anyway. She started the engine.
“Hey, let me ask you something before you go.”
“Sure.” She got b
ack out and closed the door so her heater could warm the car.
“Other than Nancy—and you’re wrong. There’s nothing between us, but I will heed your warning.”
Amie told herself she didn’t care.
“You haven’t changed your mind about the hotel, have you?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“The rumor about us...you, know, about us getting married,” he stammered, “is it bothering you? I’ve done my best to set things straight, but—”
“That piece of gossip doesn’t upset me, Tom. But if you’re so concerned about what people say—” Amie yanked on his jacket collar so it covered his ears. “I would think you’d stay clear of Big Al’s wife. He doesn’t seem like a guy to mess with. He could ruin every stride you’ve accomplished. He could destroy our plans to build our hotel.”
Tom narrowed his gaze, his breath came out in short, frozen spurts. “You’re right. But there’s nothing between Nancy and me. Nothing. Please believe me.”
“I do.” Amie released a slow breath. Tom wasn’t a guy to spin the truth or lie. “So now…” She lifted her chin. “The gossip about us getting married doesn’t seem so terrible, does it?”
Beneath the moon’s glow, she saw his smile. Then she heard his laugh.
“No. It doesn’t seem so terrible.”
“But I still say something’s bugging you, Amie.”
“It’s nothing.” Amie turned toward her car. “Everything’s fine.”
“No, not everything.” Tom caught her arm. “You haven’t said more than a dozen words today and that’s not like you.”
“I was trying not to babble. You know how I get when I’m nervous. I can’t seem to shut up. I didn’t want to do that today. I always feel so stupid afterwards.”
“Amie, nobody would have cared if you’d babbled. Least of all me.”
“Thanks.”
The light snow that had fallen this evening now covered the tips of Tom’s boots.
“You look good, Tom. I mean the hair and clothes…it’s a good look on you.” Her mouth was quickly getting away from her brain.
“That means a lot coming from a big city girl like you.” He looked down at the snowy ground, but Amie saw his smile. “Well, um, call me when you get home so I know you arrived safely.”
“Yes, Mom.” She smiled. “Oh, and by the way, I don’t think the people of Tigerton look down their noses at you. Everything I heard about you this afternoon reinforced your many attributes and nothing less. It only affirmed what I already knew.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re right.” He stomped the snow off his boots. “My father was an alcoholic. The town drunk, to be blunt. I always felt as if people held me responsible for the bad things he did when he was drinking because I was the oldest.”
Amie reached for his hand.
“The kids at school never let me forget that the Andersons were trash, and somewhere along the line I believed them. But kids grow up and viewpoints change.” He paused. “Mine have.”
Amie stepped closer to him. “All the more reason to stay clear of a married woman.”
“I get it, Amie.” His voice held a note of irritation.
Once more, she wondered if she’d gone too far. They were only business partners. Why should she care if Tom went out of his way to help Nancy? But as she stared into his gaze, Amie felt as warm as if she were sitting by a roaring fire. “If I sound heartless, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Heartless you’re not—and I appreciate the warning. I’ll speak with Jake about it.”
Amie had to be satisfied with that.
“I’ve been counseling with Jake about other things, mainly my past. Got a lot of things settled.” He snorted a laugh. “Now that I’m living in the church basement until our hotel gets built, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to talk while Jake and I paint the sanctuary and repair the pews, among other things.”
“I’m glad for you.” She smiled despite a pinch of envy. Tom battled his past demons and won, but Amie’s past would forever haunt her. She didn’t dare seek godly counsel from someone she knew, except she couldn’t talk to a complete stranger about that horrific night either. “It’s good you have someone like Jake to confide in now that my uncle is gone.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Well, I’d better get going.” Amie released his hand. “As you said, I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” She missed their connection and shivered. “Besides, it’s freezing out here.”
“Sorry for keeping you out in the cold so long.”
“No problem. I’m glad you told me more about yourself. It helps me get to know you better. Business partners should be well acquainted, right? Most know the goings on in each other’s lives. I’ve seen that enough in Chicago.” Amie clamped her mouth shut. “I’m doing it again.”
“And I think your habit is rubbing off on me.” Tom’s smile shone as bright as the moon above.
“I’ll call when I get home.”
“OK.”
Amie stepped forward and gave him a hug before planting a kiss on his whiskery cheek. Stepping back, she noticed his surprised expression. Had she crossed the line of propriety? She’d heard that in some Christian circles, men and women were forbidden to touch, whether a handshake or a hug, no matter how platonic. The belief was that a simple touch could turn into more and tempt a Christian to sin.
Jasper Rattenberg believed that way, which was why he’d blamed Amie for his actions the night he’d raped her. Had Amie made a similar mistake just now with Tom? Perhaps he was of the same persuasion.
“Habit.” She inched backwards, towards her car. “It doesn’t mean anything—I mean, anything improper.”
“It’s totally cool.” Tom’s features relaxed. “You just caught me off guard is all.”
Still unsettled, Amie climbed into her car again. Tom politely closed the door after her. He lifted his hand in a parting gesture. Backing out of the driveway, she tooted the horn twice before speeding toward the highway.
As she put the miles behind her, she wondered again if the day would come when she could finally trust someone enough to tell him or her why she’d become such an emotional wreck.
But then again, no, it probably wouldn’t.
~*~
The snow fell heavily and Amie watched it from the third-floor window of her downtown Chicago office. Common sense told her to leave work and park her car safely in the underground garage attached to her condominium lest it be buried beneath fallout from a snowplow. But she didn’t dare leave early. Not today.
Something was up.
Amie felt it in her bones and couldn’t seem to shake it. In fact, all day she’d sensed impending doom...and she knew the reason why. She’d blown an account last week and, although it hadn’t been entirely her fault, upper management wasn’t pleased. Worse, her ears still burned from her boss’ severe reprimand a few days ago, except she couldn’t blame him for being angry. In spite of putting in nearly sixty-five hours a week for two months straight, she hadn’t been able to produce an acceptable marketing strategy for Wagg’s Dog Food. Every slogan she’d come up with sounded too cliché for her clients’ liking. Your pooch’s tail will wag when you serve him Wagg’s Dog Food. She sighed inwardly. It had been the best she could do, but it was far below her usual standard. Even Amie knew that.
The sound of footsteps shuffling against the carpet caused Amie to turn from the windows.
Pete Daley, director of the marketing department, entered her office.
“It’s a winter wonderland out there,” he stated with a plastic smile.
A sure sign that unpleasant business followed.
“What’s up?” Her heart banged against her ribcage.
“We-ell,” he closed the door and sat down in the adjacent chair, “I had a long talk with Kirk Maxwell and we’ve decided that, in the best interest of the company, we have to let you go. I’m sorry. I realize this comes right before Christmas.”
“You’re
firing me?” Amie’s blood ran as cold as the Chicago River.
“I tried to go to bat for you,” Pete insisted, “but Kirk was adamant. And you know Kirk.”
“I realize that I blew a big account and wouldn’t get a raise this year, but I didn’t think I’d be fired over it.”
Pete lifted his shoulders and pursed his lips.
“Look, it won’t happen again. Give me another chance. I’m a hard worker. Haven’t I proved that to this company?”
“You were a hard worker, Amie. You were one of our best creative consultants.” He shook his head, although not a strand of his blond hair fell out of place. “However, I’ve been watching you lately. You’re physically here, but in your mind you’re somewhere else. Personally, I think you’re distracted by all this hotel nonsense. It’s all you talk about.”
“My hotel has nothing to do with my position here.” Why did she feel the need to defend that part of her life?
Except she wanted to save her job with Maxwell Brothers’ Marketing and Development Company.
“Amie, that hotel has everything to do with your position here. Admit it.”
Never! She clenched her jaw. She needed this income to support herself while the hotel was being built—and even then, there was no guarantee she’d make money on it. This job meant everything.
“Look, I’m sorry.” Pete stood. “I wish things were different. But there is good news. Kirk prepared a severance package that’ll get you through the holidays.”
How thoughtful. Amie folded her arms. The man was certainly no Tom Anderson. Tom was a caring and compassionate guy, quick to forgive, and one who believed in second chances.
Amie blinked back tears. “I guess I’ll need some boxes so I can pack my things.”
“Sure. I’ll go see what I can scrounge up.” He walked out of the office, leaving Amie with a bitter taste in her mouth—
And a sinking feeling in her heart.
~*~
His cell phone to his ear, Tom glanced at his watch. Amie had been talking nonstop for a half hour straight. He shifted the phone to the other ear. Shortly after he’d taken the call, a complete and utter helplessness engulfed him. What could he say to console her?
Her Hometown Heart. Page 8
