“Ugh.” Jeannie set her coffee down on a sawhorse. “Hurdle after hurdle.”
Abby picked up a swatch of fabric sitting on the windowsill. “This is adorable.”
“It would be, if it weren’t on back-order. Two pieces of equipment, too. And then there’s the insurance company, which wants still more paperwork.” She closed her eyes, picturing how the sun would come in through the kitchen windows upstairs where she planned to use the same fabric. How clearly she could imagine herself coming down the back stairway with enormous steaming mug of coffee in her hand as she opened up the shop each morning. “It kills me not to be in here, Abby. This place feels so much more like home than where we are now. That stupid occupancy permit. I can barely work in here, I can’t live in here and all because I’ve got no occupancy permit. Not yet. Oh, how I grown to hate the words ‘not yet.’”
“It’ll get here. You know it will. It just will take time. Have you taken time to talk to Chad this morning?”
Jeannie managed a weak laugh. “Not yet. What a surprise that man is.”
“Yes, so you said. Twice.”
“I’m that obvious?”
Abby smiled. “It’s nice to see. Really. Okay, maybe a bit on the smitten side, but I’ll look past it for now.”
Jeannie’s gaze wandered across the street to the firehouse. “Oh, Abby, I don’t know if there’s really something there.”
“Believe me, it looks like there’s definitely something there. Was it a good kiss?”
Jeannie glared at her friend.
“Hey, it’s a big kitchen window and it was a big, bright moon. A big, bright romantic moon. It wasn’t like I was watching once I heard the back door open.”
Jeannie glared again.
“Much.”
Talking about kisses felt like something out of high school. “Something happened in him. I mean, yes, it’s obvious he has feelings for me, but he resisted at first.”
“So you kissed him?” Abby rocked back on one hip. “Good for you.”
“Then, it was as if something gave way in him. It was intense. Desperate, even, and I was sure my knees were going to go out from underneath me. It was wonderful.” Jeannie closed her eyes, remembering how her head spun back there in the moonlight. “But a second later—” she felt herself flush “—okay, maybe a lot more than a second, it was as if some alarm went off inside him. I could feel him retreat, Abby. Go all tense and sad. I think he wasn’t restraining himself, he was denying himself. As if he wasn’t allowed to kiss me or be close to me.”
“So he’s complicated. Complications don’t usually scare you—you threw yourself into remodeling this place without a moment’s hesitation.”
“I’m analyzing this too much, aren’t I?”
Abby sat down on the windowsill. “Look, Jeannie, you’re allowed to kiss a man and you know what’s at stake here. What you’re not allowed to do is let what might be a very good thing pass you by just because it’s complicated. The only way you’ll ever know for sure if this is a good thing is to spend less time with this lumber—” she pointed around the room “—and spend more time with that man.” She pointed to the firehouse.
“I know, I know, but I have to go out to Richmond Farms this morning.”
“So, ask him to go with you.” Abby stood up. “He’s friends with Mike Richmond, isn’t he? Go spend some time, just the two of you.”
Jeannie sank onto a sawhorse, clutching her coffee cup. “It’s really the only way to figure this out, isn’t it? I knew that. Somewhere in here I knew that.”
Abby headed toward the door. “So get out of here and go do something about it.” When Jeannie hesitated, she reached out and pulled her friend off the sawhorse. “As in now.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Good morning,” Chad said, pulling open the door even before she got to it. It was his voice, and then again an entirely different voice. A warmer, sunnier version of the voice she’d heard Saturday night. He wore a royal blue sweater, and she wondered if it was just her imagination, or if she’d ever seen him in a bright color before. His eyes were clearer, and it was as if his whole face had changed—but then again, it hadn’t. There was so much about him that now seemed completely different. “Everything okay?”
Did he mean her? Nicky? The store? She nodded, flustered. He flashed a sheepish, confused grin, as if to say, “I don’t know how to do this, either,” then ushered her into the office. “Nick make it to school all right?” Had he always smelled so wonderful? Or did he just stand closer to her now?
She shrugged her shoulders. “He’s grumpy, but at least he’s there.” Chad’s hand feathered across her shoulder as he took her coat, and Jeannie felt her heart do a little flip. “He suspects something,” she went on, sure her grin must look childish. “He looked at me this morning with one of those looks. The ones reserved for gushy stuff he can’t stand.”
He grimaced, but it was more playful than pained. Embarrassed, actually, which was exactly how she felt. Giddy felt ridiculous for her age, but it was clear he was as unfamiliar with all this as she. “Gushy stuff like…”
“Us,” she finished for him, then regretted it. Were they an “us” already? To Abby, maybe, but she wasn’t so sure. There was no way to deny how significant Saturday night had been—for either of them. Some moments, it felt like the whole world shifted under that moon. Other times, it didn’t feel sudden at all, but built up over fateful, chosen moments. However it came to be, it was not something casual. It was huge and powerful. Was that good or bad? “It’s a lot to take in,” she backpedaled, thinking that sounded like the most inane thing ever to leave her mouth.
“It is.” His face was impossible to read.
You’ve been given a second chance, I expect you to make the most of it. She’d settled for a life alone with Nicky, living on gratitude and memory. Maybe it really was time to rebuild more than just the store. “Are you free this morning? I’ve got to run out to Richmond Farms and I…” She felt so very awkward all of a sudden. “I thought you could come with me.”
He looked startled, as if it was the last thing he expected to hear from her. Which made sense, because she could barely believe she was doing it herself.
“Really?”
He wanted to come—that much was obvious—but something was holding him back. It was like watching Saturday night play out all over again across his face. “Yeah, really,” she blurted out. “If you know you’re free and all.”
He took an excruciatingly long time to answer. “I’ve got paperwork.” Jeannie felt her heart collapse like a house of cards. “But it can wait.”
Chad couldn’t believe he was actually nervous. He was glad he insisted he do the driving out to Mike Richmond’s farm. Not only because he was certain he wasn’t yet up to riding in the polka-dotted Jeep, but driving simply gave him something to do. Goofy paint job aside, he was sure he’d have gone crazy just sitting in the passenger seat. There was no need for directions; besides George, Mike was the closest thing he had to a friend in Gordon Falls. All of which made showing up at Richmond Farms with a pretty lady rather nerve-wracking. Especially when that pretty lady had done the inviting.
Mike’s apple orchard also hosted the region’s most popular farmers’ market in the summer season. The picturesque old farm looked like something out of a movie set as he pulled his truck into the gravel drive. The trees still boasted fall’s last bursts of color, trimmed as they were with frost. The air smelled crisp and potent—fall’s intoxicating aroma that drew tourists from all over Illinois and the surrounding states. Mike had some animals—mostly for atmosphere rather than any serious livestock—apples and honey were his focus. Jeannie told him she was coming out to begin restoring her stock of Mike’s excellent honey, but during the drive Chad had hatched a plan his own involving another bee byproduct.
It was fun to watch Jeannie in her element. She darted in and out of the farm’s storehouse and small retail shop like, well, like a kid in a candy stor
e. “I’m going to need two cases of that.” “Who’s your supplier for these?” “I’ve got to carry this in the store when it opens!” And he let her energy seep into him. The woman tinted the whole world yellow when she was fired up like that. With a jolt of fear, Chad realized he was coming to crave her vibrance. He’d woken up in the middle of the night finding it too dark, missing how she lit up his world. Already, she felt too precious, too important. Strong as he knew she was, she seemed too fragile for the likes of him; he’d go mad if anything happened to her.
His breath caught when she grabbed his hand as Mike lifted the lid off a crate of raw honeycomb for her to see. Chad tensed, not ready to let even an old friend like Mike see him holding Jeannie’s hand, sure he’d never be able to hide his affections. It felt like Gordon Falls’s own floodgates could no longer keep back what was surging between them. He needn’t have worried; Mike threw him a wink and an approving nod over Jeannie’s head as she bent down to inspect the comb further. The fact that it made things with Nicky more complicated no longer mattered; he simply couldn’t help himself.
He could, however, help her. He’d devised a plan to finish what the birthday candles had started. Chad nodded at Mike who, with a conspiratorial grin, pushed open a door to the workroom behind him. “One of the very best things you can do with beeswax,” Mike began, acting on the request Chad made half an hour ago while Jeannie wasn’t looking, “is to make candles.”
“You told me you used to love candles…before. I thought making a set of beeswax candles might help things along.” Chad knew it would work, as if God himself pushed the idea into his head. Once Chad finally got up the nerve to cross the threshold into church last week, it was as if God eagerly resumed their relationship. As if all the years of Chad ignoring Him vanished in a moment’s decision to return.
Jeannie stilled for a second, as he predicted she would. He caught her elbow and nodded, walking with her into a room where several members of Mike’s family were busy with large pots, racks, lengths of string and stacks of cleaned honeycomb like the one Jeannie had just inspected. They were making the beeswax candles Richmond Farms sold in their gift shop.
Jeannie looked at Chad. He felt himself flush. “Birthday candles are an okay start,” he offered, “but I think you’re ready for an upgrade.” She looked hesitant, but Chad tried to remember the surge of certainty he’d felt with he’d gotten—or God had given him—the idea. He was right about her readiness to move forward, he knew he was. She just needed a bit of coaxing.
She didn’t reply, but she didn’t turn to leave, either. Allowing himself the luxury of a hand on the small of her back, Chad led her up to the table where Mike had supplies for them set up.
She walked up to the table and touched the sheets of waffled beeswax that sat next to a pair of white string wicks, and a hot plate holding a tub of clear yellow liquid wax. When she turned to look up at him, his heart melted. “Just think of them as great big custom birthday candles,” he encouraged, having trouble coming up with the right words. “You’ll do fine.”
“You will, too,” she shot back. “I’m not doing this alone.”
He hadn’t counted on participating, but he couldn’t very well back out now, could he? Jeannie jumped a bit when one of Mike’s employees lit a large wick near where they were working, but she fought to regain composure. He wasn’t good at it; his big hands made a fumbling job of rolling the beeswax around the wick when her candle was delicate and perfectly even. Her love of creating overcame her fear even faster than he’d planned. And beeswax was yellow—the whole room smelled of yellow sunshine and suited her perfectly. Before he could even finish one of his bumbling creations, Jeannie was on her third, experimenting with new techniques. He couldn’t squelch the satisfaction he felt watching her delve into the process. Jeannie in the moonlight had stolen his kisses. He was pretty sure Jeannie by candlelight would steal his heart.
His eye caught a sign over the door of Mike’s office: “Wisdom is like honey for you: If you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off. Proverbs 24:14”
Chad made the most startling discovery of the week: he still had hope. He fixed that new hope on one more project, the one he and Nick had discovered and would set into action later that week.
“Nicholas Nelworth, why are we heading to the river?”
“Because.” Nicky kept tugging her toward the park along the riverbank.
She yanked her hand out of his grip. “Because why?”
Nicky groaned, finally giving in to her clear suspicion that “something was up.” “Because this is where Chad and I have to go to do the thing we’re going to do.”
It was “Chad” now, was it? She crossed her hands over her chest. “It’s chilly, and the riverbank concerts stopped three weeks ago. You’re going to have to do better than ‘the thing.’ I’m not moving another step until you give me more to go on.”
Nicky craned his head down past the walking bridge over the river, and Jeannie heard Plug bark a greeting in reply. “It has to happen outside. You need sky and a river.” He turned back to look at her. “I’m not supposed to tell you any more than that, so don’t make me, okay? I don’t want Chad to get mad.”
The prospect of Chad and Nicky in cahoots was as unnerving as it was charming. Especially something with requirements like being outside at dusk near sky and water. “Okay, okay,” she consented, letting Nicky pull her down toward the riverbank. The sun had fallen behind the hills, leaving twilight to wash the sky in amber and purple hues. She loved the river best at sunrise and sunset—the quiet grandeur of the water and the valley as the day began and ended could always soothe her soul.
Chad was waiting at the foot of the walking bridge, Plug beside him on a blanket. Next to him sat a box with oriental lettering. “You’re not going to light off fireworks, are you?” The prospect panicked her. Chad wouldn’t do that, would he?
Nicky laughed. “Nah, Mom, we wouldn’t do that. But I thought that at first, too. It’s different. You’ll like it, I promise. Hey, there, Plug!”
At his call, Plug bounded off the blanket—actually bounded, something she’d never seen Plug do before—toward Nicky, nearly tackling him in a slobbery display of canine affection. Nicky’s full-out laughter was pure joy to her heart, its rarity reminding her just how much they’d come through in the past few months. Chad’s smile had the same effect. She sent thanks Heavenward. Perhaps they were finally walking out of the valley.
Nicky and Chad fussed over getting her settled on the blanket and setting the box between all three of them. Once situated, Nicky nodded at Chad, who cleared his throat the same way he had done before his fire safety presentation. She wasn’t about to receive a lecture, was she?
Chad reached into the box and pulled out a pale disk of wood-ribbed paper, like a Chinese lantern. “There is a Chinese ceremony every spring involving lanterns like these.” He handed the disk to Nicky, who knew exactly how to pop it open into a miniature paper balloon. “The Chinese use it to remember loved ones—” he cleared his throat again and she saw the muscles in his neck tense “—who have passed away. They send their hopes and prayers up into the sky in glowing lanterns.”
Nicky fastened a little metal cage to the bottom of the lantern and handed it to her. “All of us have people to remember, so it’s perfect. There’s a little candle that goes in here, and the hot air makes it rise up into the sky, see?” He pulled a flat, round tealight candle out of the package and affixed it to its place in the cage.
“Like our birthday candles, only with prayers attached,” Chad said, his eyes catching hers. “Laurie’s mother sends these to me every year, but it was Nick who decided I ought to actually use them this year.” She didn’t need to ask who Laurie was; she knew by the shadow in his eyes. “Well,” he added, wrestling back his composure as he handed another lantern to Nicky, “that we all should.”
Jeannie caught her breath, stunned by how instantly and deeply the idea affect
ed her. Lanterns, glowing and floating on the evening air—how beautiful it would be. And yet, it went so much deeper; it would be a lovely, poignant, painfully intimate moment for all of them. Maybe most especially for Chad. “You never lit the ones she sent before?”
“Couldn’t manage it.” His voice hitched as he pulled out a third disc and began to pull it into the rounded shape. He and Nicky worked in silence for a moment, assembling theirs. Darkness settled in over the river, and Plug put his head on her thigh as if to say, “It’ll be all right, just you wait and see.”
Nicky lined the trio of lanterns up on the blanket, dropping the candles into the two remaining baskets. “All ready for launch. This is going to be so cool, Mom. I looked up photos on the internet.” He sighed with satisfaction at the trio air fleet. “Dad would think this is awesome, wouldn’t he?”
Nicky hadn’t spoken of Henry since the fire. Jeannie could only nod, too full of feeling to attempt words.
“The lanterns had a second use.” Chad extended a hand and pulled Jeannie to her feet. “When villagers had to hide in the mountains from their enemies, friends would light these and send them up to signal it was safe to come back home.”
Safe to come back home. The words struck at the very heart of Jeannie’s every longing. Safe back home seemed the dearest words in the world.
In careful quiet, they picked up their lanterns and walked to the river’s edge. “Mine first,” Nicky declared. He added, “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” when Chad raised an eyebrow. “There’s a fire extinguisher in the box, Mom, just in case you’re wondering. Chad explained they’ll burn themselves out and come down into the river after a few minutes.” Clicking the long-necked lighter Chad handed him, Nicky carefully lit the tiny candle nestled inside the paper globe. “I christen you the S.S. Henry Nelworth.”
Falling for the Fireman Page 12
