“By the way, my name is Sheryl Andrews. That’s my husband, Mark, handing the baskets to the auctioneer.” She flashed him a teasing smile. “In case you thought I was coming on to you.”
“Thanks for that.”
“I know you single guys.” She grinned again, holding up the baby car seat. “This is a guaranteed romance killer.”
He frowned, unsure what to make of her comment.
“Sorry. I’m feeling feisty,” she said, sensing his discomfort. “We just found out that little Nathaniel here won’t need the surgery the doctors had been warning us about, so I’m on top of the world babbling to anyone who will listen.”
“Oh. I see.” He wasn’t sure what to say to that except, “Congratulations. That’s good news.”
“I know. Oversharing with a stranger,” she said. “But we are just so pleased. Such an answer to prayer. There’s nothing like knowing your child will be okay to put a spring in a mother’s step.”
And no sooner had she spoken then he saw his own mother heading toward them. She was walking on her own, her eyes locked on him.
As Cory smiled and waved, Sheryl’s gaze bounced between them and him. “I’m glad, for Joyce’s sake, that you came here to see her.” Sheryl sighed. “You are so fortunate to have your mother in your life. Mine died when I was young. I still miss her.”
Her words only added another layer of unwelcome guilt. He didn’t want to be reminded of his angry reunion with his mother and how he should be thankful to have her back in his life. Right now, he preferred to think about Claire and how being with her filled the lonely spaces in his soul.
“Sheryl, nice to see you,” Cory said as she and Joyce joined them. “How is little Nathaniel doing?”
“Healthy as a horse, so we’re thankful.”
Cory lifted the blanket covering the baby carrier and smiled down at the baby. He gurgled and kicked his feet, the picture of health.
“He’s so adorable,” Cory said.
“You have to say that.” Sheryl grinned. “But Mark and I think so and that’s all that counts.”
“But he is,” Joyce put in, looking down at him, her smile melancholy. “Children are a precious gift.”
Nik couldn’t stop his thoughts from sifting back. Was she thinking about when he was a baby? Wasn’t he a precious gift for her?
I didn’t want to give you up… I thought it was the best thing.
Joyce’s anguished words slipped into his mind and as she looked over at him, he caught the glint of tears in her eyes. And he couldn’t help an answering throb of his heart, an echo of his own pain.
Allow yourself to see her as a broken human being.
“We should all walk down to the auction,” Sheryl said, flipping the blanket over the carrier again, a small tent for her son, breaking the tense moment.
“Good idea. We don’t want Nik missing out on buying that special basket,” Cory said, giving him a cheeky smile.
“Will he give Matthew a run for his money?” Sheryl asked.
“Maybe. Or he might bid on Claire’s.”
“Claire’s?” Sheryl’s curious gaze flicked from Cory to Nik.
No one spoke for a moment and Cory shot him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Slipped out.”
“Interesting,” was all Sheryl said, a cheeky smile slipping across her mouth. She looked like she wanted to say more but they were close to the gazebo now and her husband was calling her to come over.
“Sorry. Gotta go. You all take care,” she said, fluttering her fingers at them and walking toward the gazebo, the baby carrier resting on her hip.
Cory turned to Nik, looking contrite. “Sorry about what I said in front of Sheryl. She’s discreet. I don’t think she’ll say anything to anyone.”
“It’s okay.” He had nothing else to say. He didn’t want to talk about Claire in front of his sister or Joyce.
“Anyhow, we’re sitting over there,” Cory said, pointing to a grove of trees, where a few other people already had chairs out.
He walked alongside them, surprised Joyce could keep up. The last time he saw her she looked as if she couldn’t sit up, let alone walk.
“You seem better today, Joyce,” he said as she sat down in the lawn chairs Cory had set out.
“I feel a lot better.” She gave him a tentative smile, as if uncertain of his response. Which made Nik think of what Chance had told him. He returned her smile.
Just love her.
So he reached over and laid his hand over hers, tightening his grip. And when her smile blossomed, so did something deep within him.
And when he noticed Claire and Emma sitting just a few feet ahead of him, a tiny glimmer of other possibilities grew as well.
“He’s the cutest baby ever,” Emma proclaimed as Claire knelt down on the quilt Sheryl had spread out and lifted the blanket up from the baby carrier Sheryl Andrews had set on the ground beside her.
“He is adorable,” Claire agreed, smiling over at Sheryl.
“You’re talking to a very biased mother,” Sheryl said, stroking his tiny head with a gentle hand.
“Was I ever that little?” Emma asked.
“Yes. Hard to believe you were.” Claire felt a momentary pang of envy as she watched Emma coo over the baby. Claire had always wanted a large family. Kids born close together. A stairstep family.
Now Emma was six and there wasn’t much chance of her getting siblings any time soon.
“Mommy. Look. Nik is here,” Emma said, clapping her hands as she stood. “He came.”
Claire kept her eyes on Nathanial, though she wanted nothing more than to turn her head to see where Nik was. A flush warmed her cheeks as she thought of the kiss they had shared and how after that, he’d left and didn’t return.
And now he was here, creating a peculiar lift of her heart.
“I’m going to talk to him,” Emma said. But Claire caught her arm as she scrambled to her feet.
“Leave him alone,” Claire said. If he wanted to see them, he could come to her. No way was she chasing after some guy.
“But he’s just sitting with his mom and Cory.”
The momentary joy she felt at his arrival was quashed. Of course. He wasn’t here to see her. He only came for his mother and sister.
“I could tell him to come and join us,” Sheryl said, giving Claire a sly smile. “I was just talking to him. I think Cory and Joyce aren’t the only reason he’s here.”
“Folks we’ve got another lovely basket to sell,” Matthew McKnight was calling out, thankfully sparing Claire from saying anything. “And it’s not my fiancée’s,” Matthew continued. “Or I would be out in the audience bidding.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” someone called out from the gathered group. “When you stop auctioning and start bidding I’ll know to give you some competition”
“Very funny, Anton,” Matthew said with a nod toward the older man. “But you might end up eating with Cory after all.”
“Your loss. My gain.”
As the two chatted and badgered each other, Claire thought of Nik, Sheryl’s words slipping through her mind. Then Mark Andrews picked up the next basket to be auctioned off, and her heart jumped.
“Mommy. That’s yours,” Emma whispered, leaning toward Claire.
“Shh. It’s supposed to be a secret.” Claire put her finger to her lips, then glanced behind her.
And looked directly into Nik’s eyes. He, Cory and their mother were only ten feet away. Which made it likely he had heard Emma’s stage whisper. Which made her think her daughter had said it on purpose.
She looked ahead, trying to still the erratic beating of her heart. This was crazy. She had to keep things under control.
The previous basket was now sold and then hers was being inspected by Matthew.
“So this one looks like a real winner. I wish I could bid on it myself,” Matthew was saying. “I think I recognize some of the packaging.” He glanced directly at Claire, winked at her, then held it up and the bidding started.
Claire desperately wanted to see who was bidding, but if Nik was, she didn’t want to know. Mark was pointing to bidders, the amount of the bids increasing each time.
"Nik isn't bidding on your basket," Emma wailed, grabbing at her arm. "I should go over there and tell him to. I want to eat our basket with him.”
Claire caught Emma's hand before she could make a move. She pulled her daughter onto her lap, wrapping her arms around her. "You just stay here, honey," Claire said. "We know just about everybody here, and whoever bids on my basket doesn't matter. The money is to fix up the kitchen in the church which is a good thing.”
"But I want to sit with Nik," Emma complained, wiggling in Claire's arms.
"You just never mind," Claire said.
Claire forced her attention back to Matthew who was trying to keep up with the bids as they came in fast and furious. Claire was surprised herself at how high her basket was going but restrained her curiosity, keeping her attention on Matthew.
"300, 300, 325 anywhere, 300?" Matthew held his hand up glancing around, asking again. He waited for what seemed like forever then finally pointed in Claire's direction. "Sold," he called out. "To the newest member of our community, Nik Austen.”
Emma spun around so fast she almost twisted Claire's hand. "Nik bought our basket," she crowed.
Claire's cheeks burned, as Nik walked up to Matthew and took the basket from him then walked over to Claire. "So I guess this means we get to eat together," he said. To her surprise he was smiling at her.
Suddenly his silence of the last few days, didn't matter as much.
"I'm not sure of the protocol," he said still holding her gaze. “What happens next?”
"My mom has a blanket, and we take it over to a spot under the trees and we put out the blanket and then we sit and eat our food," Emma said helpfully. She got up and to Claire’s dismay, slipped her arm through Nik’s. “We can go eat right now, we don’t have to wait for the other baskets to sell.”
Nik smiled down at Claire, and the fragile hope his kiss had resurrected the other night became a gentle glow.
He switched the basket and held out his free hand to her. Her cheeks grew even redder as she tucked her folded blanket under one arm, took his hand and let him pull her up to her feet. She kept her head down as she walked alongside him holding her blanket in front of her like a shield. She knew her parents were there and most of the members of the church. This was a very public display of a very tentative relationship.
That Nik was willing to do what he did created a sense of expectation.
“This looks like a good spot,” Emma announced when they came to a large tree. “Can you lay your blanket down, Mom? I’m getting really hungry.”
Claire looked over her shoulder to where Cory and Joyce sat, dismayed to see Cory winking at her. “Did you want to sit with your mother and sister?” she asked Nik. From the way Cory was grinning at her, she would have preferred not to join her friend but it felt rude to ignore them.
“It’s okay,” Nik said. “I just arranged to visit them tomorrow for lunch. Besides, I bought your basket and that means I get to sit with you.”
Claire shook up the blanket and let it settle, trying not to feel awkward, wishing she could dampen her expectation.
“My mom made some really good food,” Emma said, kneeling down on the blanket. “She said we didn’t have lots of good food in our kitchen, so I was allowed to help put the basket together. I took some of my favorite stuff from the cafe, and some healthy food, even though I think I like the other stuff better.”
Her chatter filled the silence that had fallen between Nik and Claire.
“See, my mom put paper plates here and plastic utensils so we have something to eat with.” Emma untied the ribbon at the top and pulled the cellophane off the basket, then looked up at Claire and Nik. “You guys can sit down, too.”
Claire released a nervous laugh then did as Emma told her to. Nik sat on the other side of Emma.
“No. This is all wrong. You are supposed to sit together. Side by side,” Emma commanded.
“I think Nik can sit where he wants,” Claire said.
Emma seemed to realize she had overstepped but she didn’t seem perturbed.
“But before we have to eat we need to pray.”
“That's right,” Claire agreed, giving her daughter a smile but also adding a warning look. Emma gave her an apologetic smile.
“So, let’s pray,” Claire said. And before she could fold her hands in her lap, Emma reached out to Nik and to Claire. She shot a sideways look at Nik, surprised to see him smiling at her, his hand outstretched.
She swallowed down her trepidation and took his hand. He curled his fingers around hers and once again her heart jumped. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to God, taking a moment to center herself. To know that she was approaching the Creator and Savior of the world.
She thanked God for the food and for the good weather and paused a moment before thanking him for the company and for the time they could spend together.
She said “Amen” just as Nik tightened his hand on hers. The warmth of his hand was a comfort and a connection she was loathe to break.
But Emma was handing out the plates and napkins, eager to begin.
“So, dig in,” Claire said, handing Nik the basket.
“I’m sure it’s all really good, but what is on the menu?”
“This one is a turkey, provolone and pesto sandwich, hopefully still warm,” Claire said, taking out a foil and paper wrapped roll. “This one is Fontinie, prosciutto, fig and arugula on a ciabatta grilled on a panini maker. This one is Canadian bacon, sun dried tomato, spinach, soft mozzarella and secret sauce.”
“Wow. These aren’t just sandwiches. They sound like a gourmet feast.” Nik scratched the side of his nose glancing at Emma. “Do you know what prosciutto is? Or pesto?”
Emma shrugged and shook her head. “Not really. I don’t like them anyway.” She dug into the basket and pulled out a package that had her name on it. “This one is for me,” she said, showing it to Nik. “And it’s my favorite.”
“So, what’s on that one?”
“Peanut butter and jelly.”
Nik made a face. “Seriously? With all these amazing sounding sandwiches you’re taking that?”
“It’s the best.”
“So, which one do you want?” Claire asked, turning the basket toward him.
“Why don’t you pick for me?”
Claire handed him the turkey and pesto and took the Canadian bacon and tomato one for herself. She gave him a bottle of water and handed Emma a juice box.
They were quiet for a moment, concentrating on eating. In the background, Matthew was still calling out bids, encouraging people to go higher. People were laughing and above and around them a faint breeze whispered through the trees.
Emma was done eating in mere seconds. She slurped her juice down then, to Claire’s surprise, brushed the crumbs off her clothes and jumped to her feet. “Marla and Chris are playing on the slides. Can I go?”
“Sure. I guess.” Claire had thought for sure she would want to stay with Nik, especially after her little stunt the other night when she finagled a Chinese checkers game out of him.
Emma was off like a shot, her hair streaming behind her.
“She’s a busy one, isn’t she?” Nik said, watching her running to the park.
“Tell me,” Claire said.
“It must be difficult, managing her and your business, and keeping sane at the same time.”
“How do you know I’m sane?” Claire said with a grin, surprised once again at how comfortable she felt with him.
“I don’t think you’re insane,” Nik protested, looking taken aback.
“Do you think I’m incapable? Or incompetent or ingenious?”
“I think you’re capable, competent and probably a genius.”
“Flatterer,” she said, her heart opening up at their easy ribbing. In s
pite of what had happened the other night, or maybe because of it, she felt surprisingly comfortable around him.
She took another bite of her sandwich just as some sauce dribbled down her chin. She swiped at it, her cheeks flushing.
Then to her dismay, Nik smiled, took her chin in his hand and dabbed the corner of her mouth. “There. Now you’re all good.”
But he didn’t let go of her chin and his eyes locked on hers. She swallowed, her breath quickening, her heart fluttering.
Then his fingers lightly caressed her cheek and he dropped his hand.
“About the other night…” he started.
But she waved off his apology.
“It’s okay. I understand.” She didn’t want to hear his regrets about kissing her. He was too close, and she was feeling too vulnerable. He had turned her world upside down and she still wasn't sure what to think of it all. She had her daughter to consider, yet the loneliness haunting her the past few years, the desire to have someone think about her, think about her needs, had only grown.
"I wanted you to know I wasn't apologizing for kissing you,” he continued despite her protest. “I was trying to say I was sorry for breaking down on you. I have to confess I didn't feel very manly."
Her heart shifted, and she felt a sudden relief.
“I think it takes a real man to express his emotions. To be vulnerable." She gave him a careful smile, surprised at how good his confession made her feel.
“Maybe, but it’s not manly to admit to.”
“Probably not, but I’m glad you trusted me enough to let me know. It’s seldom men are so willing to open up.”
Nik tilted his head to one side as if examining her from another angle. "You sound sad. Are you thinking about Emma's father?"
"You're way too astute for me," she said.
"What was he like?"
"It doesn't matter," she said giving her head a shake.
"I wish I could say it didn't, but given that I kissed you and wasn’t sorry I did, given that I broke down in your arms and that, in front of your entire community, I bought your lunch basket, I think it matters a little.”
His words created a tiny thrill, a beat of expectation, a glimmer of hope.
“Tell me,” he insisted.
A Mother's Heart (Sweet Hearts of Sweet Creek Book 6) Page 13
