Safe in Noah's Arms

by Mary Sullivan

  While Gabe showed Monica how to hold the rod properly, Noah moved onto what seemed to be his favorite theme—the environment.

  “Okay, kids, this might sound preachy, but I’m going to say it anyway. Convince your parents to stop using bleach. Okay? It’s hard on our ecosystem and really hard on fish once that bleach leaches into their habitat.”

  Monica must have been doing something wrong because Gabe wrapped his arms around her from behind and murmured, “Hold it like this. You’ll have more luck.”

  It was too bad for Monica that Noah happened to glance at her at that moment. Oh, dear.

  He glared at her, and it got her back up. Did he actually think she had something going on with Gabe? She couldn’t seem to do anything right where this guy was concerned and she was tired of defending herself.

  He wasn’t perfect, either.

  Then she heard Gabe laughing. She turned around and narrowed her eyes when she saw the twinkle in his eye. “What are you up to?”

  “Just stirring the pot a little.”

  “Stirring what pot?”

  He chuckled and walked away to help one of the kids.

  “How is my mom supposed to get our clothes white if she doesn’t use bleach?” That was from one of the girls.

  “Vinegar. Washing soda. Lemon juice. Hydrogen peroxide.” Noah might have been answering Becca, but he was watching Monica, and he didn’t look happy.

  She looked around at the children. They were taking Noah seriously. Some of them apparently had a case of hero worship where Noah was concerned. How could they not when he took an entire day out of his busy schedule to take them fishing?

  It was almost a guarantee they would each go home and demand that their parents stop using bleach.

  Before she had finished the thought, Noah pointed to her nails. “That nail polish?”

  Every child directed their attention her way. She held up her hands and studied her pink polish. “What about it?”

  “Main ingredient is formaldehyde.”

  Monica recoiled. “You’re just trying to scare me.”

  “I am, yeah, but it’s true.”

  “Ewww,” Becca said. “You have formaldehyde on your hands? Remember the frogs we had to dissect? They reeked. The teacher said it was the formaldehyde that preserved them that stank so much. I’m never wearing nail polish.”

  Shannon wrapped her arm across Becca’s shoulder. “Me either!”

  Great. In the car on the drive over, Monica and the two girls had enjoyed a lovely chat, but now they glared at her as though she were the enemy. Thanks, Noah.

  Try as she might, Monica couldn’t stop herself from feeling wounded by Noah’s obvious disdain.

  She stared at her hands. How was she supposed to have known about the ingredients in her nail polish? There must be polish out there with fewer chemicals. She would research it online tonight.

  Many long hours later, with a catch of fish that would make an awesome dinner, and the sandwiches and juice all gone, Gabe led the kids back to the vehicles, with Noah and Monica bringing up the rear.

  “Noah, you have to find a better way to educate people about all of this environmental stuff—guide, teach, whatever. I know you’re passionate, but don’t preach. You come off as self-righteous and unforgiving, and it makes people feel bad about themselves.”

  He startled. “The kids? I hurt their feelings?”

  Emboldened by the concern on his face, she continued, “Not them. Me.”

  “Oh. You.”

  The way he said it with such casual disdain, the way he dismissed her as though she was of no consequence, as though the kids deserved his respect but she didn’t, burned a hole right through her.

  “How dare you?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her. “How dare I what?”

  “How dare you treat me as though I mean less than those kids? I’m a human being as worthy of respect as anyone.”

  “I don’t—”

  She railroaded over him. “You treat me like crap. I broke your arm. I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sure if you canvassed the entire town you’d have a hard time finding anyone I’ve hurt in my thirty-eight years.”

  “Yeah, you’re a real saint, getting people jobs. Lift one finger and John Spade falls all over himself to do your bidding. Right? Meanwhile I bust my butt year-round for these people. You know what you are? You’re a princess living in an ivory tower. You don’t know the first thing about real life.”

  She jabbed him in the chest. “I’m as good as you are. I am as worthy. You think you’re better than me? Well, guess what, Noah, I wish you would go to hell.”

  Tears blurring her vision, she marched ahead of him only to run headfirst into a hard body. Strong hands gripped her shoulders. Gabe’s concerned face hovered in her blurry vision.

  “What’s up?”

  She dashed tears from her cheeks. “Nothing of importance.” She glanced over her shoulder at Noah. “Absolutely nothing.”

  * * *

  DIDN’T THAT JUST put him in his place? Just as Noah had always thought, Monica assigned no importance to his person whatsoever.

  She marched off after the children while Gabe walked back to him.

  “What’s going on with you two? You’ve been shooting daggers at Monica since you got here this morning. At first I figured you had the hots for her. I thought it was funny, so I played up teaching Monica how to fish. I thought you were jealous. Now I don’t know. You’ve really upset her. What’s your problem?”

  “What do you think? This!” He shoved his left arm into Gabe’s face. “She screwed me up, man.”

  She screwed you up, all right, but this is about a heck of a lot more than your arm.

  Aw, shut up.

  No, you didn’t like when Monica and Gabe hugged. When Monica looked at the man like he was a god, you hated it. When you saw Gabe holding her, you wanted to be that man.

  “I’m sorry she broke you arm, Noah, but you know that kind of behavior is out of character for Monica.”

  “Is it?”

  Gabe responded with a quelling look.

  “Okay,” Noah admitted. “It wasn’t like her to go drinking and driving, but I’m the one suffering the consequences.”

  “I wouldn’t say you’re the only one. You just left her in tears.”

  He pulled up on the path. He’d hurt her that badly? “She was crying?”

  “When she bumped into me, yeah. After I brought Billy’s body home, she cried once and that was it.” They both climbed over a tree trunk that had fallen across the path. “But I’m pretty sure she cried her heart out whenever she was alone, probably every night judging by how puffy her eyes were some mornings, but the rest of the time she put on a good face. No more crying in public, not even at his funeral.”

  Noah wondered what had been going on in his own life that he hadn’t really noticed Monica during that time. Again he realized how much he underestimated her.

  Gabe slowed down to put more distance between them and the kids. “She’s stronger than she thinks she is, and a hell of a lot stronger than she looks. That’s why I’m wondering what you did to upset her so much that she would cry in public.”

  Guilt put him on the defensive. “Why are you taking her side? She just said some nasty things to me, too.” He realized he sounded childish, but he couldn’t help it.

  “Like what? I heard the whole conversation.”

  “Not possible. You were at the front of the pack.”

  “The woods are quiet. The kids are tired and growing hungry again. They’re not talking much. We all heard everything. I came back to try to get you two to tone it down.” He dipped below a low-hanging branch. “She said she’s as good as you are. That she’s a worthy pers
on. All true. What did she say that was so bad?”

  “She said I’m of absolutely no importance.”

  “Come on, man. You pissed the woman off. Of course she’s gonna get in a parting shot. Doesn’t mean she thinks you mean nothing to anyone.”

  Of course he meant a lot to plenty of people, but when Monica said he meant nothing to her, he believed her. And it hurt. When Noah didn’t respond, Gabe glanced at him sharply. “She really did hurt your feelings. Why? I’ve heard the things people have hurled at you during protests. You’ve got thick skin.”

  Still, Noah remained silent, unwilling to share with Gabe how easily Monica could wound him. Gabe might get the impression that he cared about the woman.

  Gabe stopped him with a hand on his arm while putting enough distance between them and the kids that Monica couldn’t possibly hear. “It’s because it’s Monica, isn’t it? I mean, specifically Monica. You really do find her attractive, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?” he asked softly.

  Damn the man. He saw too much. Noah couldn’t even pretend to lie.

  “Have you just got the hots for her?” Gabe swung around to stand in front of Noah. “Or do you care for her?”

  Noah gritted his teeth. The two men had become good buddies since Gabe had come home from Afghanistan and they’d discovered a shared love of nature and outdoor sports. In the winter, Noah often helped Gabe with his dogsledding business, when things were slow at the shop.

  Yet Gabe had never guessed how Noah felt about Monica until now. The only other person who knew was Audrey, and she would take his secret to the grave.

  But so would Gabe. Salt of the earth didn’t begin to describe the man. The guy had depth and honor.

  A gust of air exploded out of Noah and he scrubbed his beard. “Yeah. I like her. Too much. I have since high school. Since middle grade. Okay? Satisfied?”

  Gabe didn’t retreat. He stood his ground with a puzzled frown. “So why don’t you go after her?”

  “Are you kidding?” Noah raked a hand down his own body. “Take a good look at me. Then look at her. Notice any differences? We’re about as opposite as two people can be.”

  Gabe nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but that doesn’t preclude attraction. Right now she’s upset, but maybe she’s not entirely indifferent.”

  “No way. She goes out of her way to ignore me. Then, when she does acknowledge my existence, she’s cool and collected all the way.”

  Not completely, buddy. Remember yesterday’s volcano?

  “You do understand that’s just her way?” Gabe said. “That it’s nothing personal?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Or maybe that’s it, isn’t it? You want it to be personal.” Gabe pointed a finger at him. “You’re gonna have to gather up your courage at some point and make a move. Otherwise, you’ll never know how she really feels.” He turned and stalked away, leaving Noah to wonder what on earth there was to learn about the woman that he hadn’t already seen.

  It didn’t seem like she cared about him at all. So then why would his opinions make her so upset that she cried?

  Back in the clearing in front of Gabe’s house, with the children already in the cars, Monica seemed to have pulled herself together. No sign of tears.

  He stepped around to go to his truck. Just before he got in, he noticed the protracted hug Monica shared with Gabe.

  Apparently, Gabe was someone of importance to her.

  While driving back to the farm, the kids’ conversation flowing around him, he realized why he’d been so hard on Monica. He was jealous of her affection for Gabe.

  He wanted a slice of that pie. And because he couldn’t have what he wanted, he was being small and mean. And he felt ashamed.

  * * *

  HE DIDN’T ASK her to stay for dinner. Monica couldn’t believe how much that hurt. Obviously she was useful to Noah in her capacity to make sandwiches and herd children, but not as herself.

  The children got out of the two vehicles and unloaded the back of the truck. They returned the fishing rods to the tool shed. And all the while Noah ignored her.

  When he told the children to take the fish into the house, he didn’t even look her way, just followed the kids indoors. Monica stood beside her car more hurt than she thought possible.

  Despite Noah’s anger, it had been a good day. Even after the kerfuffle about her nail polish, the girls had come back around to being chummy with her.

  In truth, it had been a wonderful day, one of the best she’d ever had—sweet, fun and educational. And now it was over—for her. Everyone else trooped inside like the best buddies on earth while she stood out here alone. Talk about being an outsider.

  One of the girls ran back outside. “Monica, what’re you doing out here? Noah’s gonna teach us to debone the fish. Don’t you want to know how?”

  She shook her head slightly. “I’m going to head home now.” Her throat hurt.

  Shannon said, “Okay,” but she sounded uncertain about this strange outcome—Monica had been there all day and now wouldn’t be.

  The girl slowly walked back inside. A second later, Noah barged out.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “Why?”

  His intense gaze cut through her. So many undercurrents of things—issues, emotions?— went on inside of Noah that they left her off-balance.

  “What did you want? An engraved invitation just for you?”

  “No,” she responded quietly. “But I wasn’t invited, was I, until Shannon said something?”

  “Come in,” he said. “Have supper with us. You caught one of the fish.”

  Yes, she had, and she was proud of that. She should ask for it and take it home and cook it by herself. She didn’t want to be in this man’s company any longer.

  Shannon appeared in the doorway again, beckoning. Monica didn’t have it in her to ignore Shannon. She stepped away from Noah.

  Shannon ran back into the kitchen, squealing, “She’s coming.” At least one person here was glad she was staying.

  Then she heard the kids all say things like “Awesome” and “Great.”

  Her heart warmed. Noah might not want her here, but the children did and they were the only ones who mattered.

  Before she stepped up onto the porch, Noah stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Wait.” He scrubbed his palms over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous.”

  “Yes, you are. What exactly is your problem, Noah? Why do you treat me so coldly?”

  He studied her, looked away and then met her gaze again, confusion in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’m being petty and mean-spirited. I know I can get too preachy and I am self-righteous—you nailed me good. It’s behavior that’s unworthy of both of us. I’m truly sorry. I’ll do better.”

  “Thank you, Noah,” she responded quietly. “I appreciate the apology.”

  When she made to step onto the porch again, he stopped her a second time. “You have a lot of class. I like how you rise above things.”

  He’d surprised her. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t being facetious. He was serious. It was strange, though, that he still looked confused even while giving her a compliment.

  His problem, not hers. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Let’s go in and enjoy the rest of our time with the kids.”

  Inside the house, the children clustered around the fish they’d caught, which were lying dead in the sink.

  “We didn’t know what to do with them.”

  “I’ll teach you how to debone them and then we’ll fry them.”

  Monica had been thinking about the fish. Noah lived on a farm in the middle of extensive bounty. How often did these kids have a chance to eat
a veggie straight from the garden?

  “Why don’t we pick fresh vegetables to go with the trout?” She pulled Noah aside. “The children should have vegetables. It could teach them a lot about farming, too.”

  “The food is for the needy, remember?”

  “I know, but you have a lot of food growing in those fields. You won’t miss the few vegetables we eat with dinner tonight. And we can’t ignore the need here and now.”

  Monica subtly bent her head toward Tyler’s shoes. They were scuffed bare with holes in the toes. His knees poking through tears in his jeans finished the story.

  “We need veggies with our fish.” She leaned close. Noah smelled like fresh air and sunshine. She whispered, “I gave Tyler my sandwich at lunchtime. One wasn’t enough for him. He’s starving, Noah.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Good point. Thanks.”

  She’d bet Tyler didn’t often get fresh vegetables.

  So they all tromped out into the fields while Noah gave them a brief lecture about farming, pointing out what could be picked early, but also what was still too young.

  To complement the fish, they chose asparagus and scapes.

  “Scapes?” The kids laughed at the name. “Don’t let any scapes escape!”

  “Wait until you taste them.” Monica held a bundle in each hand. She also held her breath hoping that Noah would go for what she was about to suggest. “We need parchment paper.”

  “Why?” He stopped walking to regard her with suspicion.

  “For the fish.”

  “No, we don’t. We’ll fry them.”

  “Nope. Today, we’re going to teach these guys how to turn fish into ambrosia.”

  “What’s ambrosia?” Becca asked.

  “It’s the nectar of the gods. It means something that tastes exquisite.” She hopped over the row of radishes she’d weeded the other day. “Everyone, look.”

  She bent down. “This is a radish, but this—” she pointed to a small plant “—is a weed. We need to get rid of it.”

  When she smiled at the children, she caught a wink from Noah. A smile kicked up one corner of his mouth and she had the worst, the most insane desire to kiss that tiny smile. Where had that thought come from? She didn’t find him attractive. She really didn’t. Okay, maybe a little, but only when the evening sun turned his hair to fireworks.