by Lois Richer
“Making a pie for someone special?” Lucy asked in a coy voice.
“Oh. No.” Sara blushed. As if she’d have someone special in her life. “It’s— I thought I’d make one for Kyle Loness. He’s just arrived home and—”
“Yes, we heard. So sad that his father wasn’t here to see him.” Lucy closed her eyes. Her lips moved but no sound was audible. When she opened her eyes and found Sara watching her, she smiled. “I like to remind God of His needy kids.”
Besides Laurel, Sara had never met anyone so open about their faith.
“Hector and I organized a cleanup of Kyle’s yard last week but we didn’t touch the greenhouse. We intend to stop by on our way home and ask him if we can help with that, too.” Lucy finished paring the apples then asked if she could prepare vegetables for dinner.
“I thought we’d have carrots for dinner.”
“Great.” Lucy looked delighted by the chore. “I’m sure Kyle will love your thoughtfulness,” she said. “As I recall, his mom’s pie was always first to go at the church socials.”
After yesterday, the last thing Sara wanted to do was revive more of Kyle’s memories of his mother. Too late now, she ignored her hesitation and listened to Lucy describe her life as a missionary as she finished. Then she slid all the pies into the big, old-fashioned baker’s oven. But she hesitated only a moment before she set the smallest pie inside the oven. If Kyle didn’t want it, someone else would.
Sara’s thoughts wandered to the handsome veteran. How was Kyle this morning? Was his leg still hurting him? The part inside of her hadn’t felt like a misfit when she’d tried to ease his pain. She’d felt useful, as if he needed her.
“Sara?”
She suddenly realized Lucy had asked her something. “Sorry?”
“I was just being nosy, wondering how you’d met Kyle.” Lucy winked.
“We arrived in Churchill on the same train,” Sara explained as she bagged the rest of the apple slices and packed them into the freezer. A quick cleanup then she assembled the ingredients for peanut butter cookies. Laurel had told her people would often drop in and that Sara should be prepared to offer a snack or even a meal at a moment’s notice. Time to start building a larder reserve.
“Kyle was always such a gentleman,” Lucy mused. “He’s the kind of man who isn’t afraid to open a door or lend you an arm if the ground is rough. A real hero type. I don’t know why more young men don’t understand how attractive that is.”
“Kyle is nice,” Sara murmured, her cheeks burning under Lucy’s scrutiny. “He’s agreed to let me use his mother’s greenhouse for a project with one of the boys.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Kyle hasn’t allowed anyone to touch that greenhouse since his mom’s death—”
Lucy was interrupted by noises from the front hall.
Laurel’s laughter echoed to them, followed by a rumbled response lower than Hector’s voice. To Sara it sounded like Kyle. Immediately her pulse began to flutter. Had he come to take back his offer about the greenhouse? Laurel bounded into the room. When she saw Lucy she wrapped the tiny woman in a hug.
“Bless you and Hector for coming so quickly. I appreciate it.” She turned to Sara. “You met Lucy, right? Isn’t she a wonder?”
“Yes, she is,” Sara agreed with a smile for the vibrant senior. “I’ve appreciated her help.”
“I knew you would.” Laurel waited as Lucy excused herself to answer her cell phone in another room then said, “Kyle’s taking off his coat. He agreed to look at my computer to see if he can get rid of the gremlin that’s taken over.”
“That’s nice,” Sara said, hearing the breathlessness in her voice. It was nice that Kyle was here. Nice? Sara scoffed at herself. She was getting good at understatement.
He walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Kyle.” Sara pretended her stomach hadn’t turned into a jellied mush.
“Hi.” His response emerged in a low growl. A tic at the corner of his mouth told her he was hurting and wanted to sit.
Sara pretended she needed to check the oven so she could move closer to him. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“For now.” His smile seemed a little forced.
“I haven’t told him yet, Sara,” Laurel said, her grin stretched across her face, “but I’m hoping that by the time Kyle gets the kinks out of my laptop, I’ll have persuaded him to get some of those old desktop computers running for the boys.”
“I suspected you wanted more when you asked me about my dad’s stock of parts,” Kyle said, his smile wry. “Marla didn’t tell me you were so devious.”
“That’s because she doesn’t know. Yet.” Laurel chuckled then sniffed. “Something smells very good, Sara. How long before whatever’s in that oven is ready to eat?”
“I’m baking apple pies. They won’t be finished for a while.” A flutter of nervousness wrapped around Sara’s stomach as she met Kyle’s gaze. A new thought occurred to her. Maybe he felt she’d been too forward when she applied the hot cloths to his leg. Did he think she’d been too presumptuous? And why did it matter so much? “There’s fresh banana loaf. I made it before breakfast for the boys’ lunches.”
“Perfect. But we’re not having coffee yet. Kyle has to earn his snack first.” Laurel linked her arm in Kyle’s so he had to leave the room with her.
“What a taskmaster you work for, Sara,” he complained as he left.
Sara was still chuckling when Lucy returned and asked what was so funny.
“You see, such a gentleman,” Lucy said after Sara’s explanation. She nodded her silver head. “He didn’t even refuse her.”
“I don’t know many people who can refuse Laurel.” Sara slid a sheet of her cookies in the second oven. Then she set a large pot on the stove, adding a chicken and some of the vegetables Lucy had prepared.
“What’s that for?” Lucy asked.
“Soup for lunch. You will be staying, won’t you?”
“We’d love to,” Lucy replied promptly. “In fact, I just reminded God that Hector will want lunch in a couple of hours and I have nothing at home.”
Sara couldn’t help laughing. When had she last felt so lighthearted? Lucy feels like family, God—but I still want my own.
By the time the cookies were cooling, her side ached from laughing at Lucy’s stories. Then Kyle appeared in the doorway and Sara’s breath snagged in her throat. She was glad his attention was focused elsewhere.
“Good morning, Mrs. Clow.” His tone was grave, solemn.
“For goodness’ sake, Kyle.” The diminutive woman rushed up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “After all these years can’t I finally be plain old Lucy?”
“I don’t think you could ever be plain old anything,” Kyle murmured, a hint of tenderness softening his usually harsh tone.
“I’m so glad you’re home safe and sound, my dear boy.” Lucy’s voice brimmed with emotion. “So glad. Hector and I prayed for you every day.”
“Thanks.” As Kyle awkwardly patted her back, his eyes met Sara’s. He was obviously uncomfortable with Lucy’s effusive hug but he made no effort to shift away.
Sara loved that though Kyle was not a “toucher,” he tolerated Lucy’s embrace without complaint, even gently hugging her back before Lucy finally drew away.
Lucy was right. Kyle was exactly what most women would want in a man.
“Before she got caught on the phone, Laurel said I’m to tell you we need coffee,” he said to Sara.
Sara studied Kyle for a moment, noting the way he rubbed his temple. He looked tired.
“She insists those computer relics she tore apart can be reassembled into working computers.” He rolled his eyes. “She must think I’m a magician.”
“Laurel does have a way of coaxing more from you,” Lucy agreed. “But since it’s to help these precious boys, I can’t complain.”
“I shouldn’t, either,” Kyle mumbled. “Lives Under Construction is an excellent project. It’s just—�
��
His gaze met Sara’s and she immediately understood that he’d planned to do other things today. “I guess I’ll have to learn to be flexible,” he said with a shrug.
“With Laurel we all have to learn that,” she agreed.
The corners of his lips tipped up in the tiniest smile, but it made a world of difference to Sara. Suddenly the day seemed much brighter. But why? Kyle should be nothing to her, just a means to the greenhouse, that was all. And yet, because he smiled at her, her heart beat more rapidly. To hide her reaction she took out the banana loaf and began slicing it.
“Something smells wonderful.” Kyle’s face tilted up, his nose in the air.
“Apple pie, just like your mom’s.” Lucy beamed. “Sara even made you your own special one. Isn’t that sweet?”
Sara gulped, embarrassed that she’d drawn attention to the fact.
“It’s very kind of you to think of me, Sara,” Kyle said after a pause.
“It’s nothing. I’m trying to use up some old apples is all,” Sara rushed to explain. “I didn’t know you were coming here today. I thought I’d drop it off when Rod and I go to the greenhouse this afternoon.”
“About that—”
“I’ve explained it to him,” she said, desperate to prevent Kyle from telling her he’d changed his mind. “He’s eager to get started with our plan. After school we’ll clean all that glass.”
“Uh-huh.” Kyle glanced at Lucy as if he wanted to say something.
“I didn’t know you were thinking of allowing people to use the greenhouse, Kyle.” The blue in Lucy’s gaze intensified.
“I wasn’t,” he admitted. “But as you said, if it’s to help this Lives project, we shouldn’t complain.”
Sara smothered a laugh at the way Kyle had deflected Lucy’s comment, but she doubted the former missionary would be silenced so easily. She gulped when his attention turned to her.
“As I told you, Sara, no one’s been in the greenhouse for a while,” Kyle reminded. “Hector’s agreed to check it out after lunch. You and Rod will have to wait until he gives the okay.”
“That will be fine.” His slight smile and the way his gaze held hers for an infinitesimal moment sent a tingle straight to that needy spot inside Sara. Thankfully the timer beeped. She broke the electric connection that seemed to hum between them by turning away to mix up some biscuit dough to go with her soup. What on earth was wrong with her?
Laurel and Hector arrived and took their place at the table.
“I love how your baking smells fill the whole place.” Laurel accepted her coffee with a grin. “It gives Lives exactly the homey atmosphere I want for the boys.”
Embarrassed by her praise, Sara busied herself filling cups. By then the only seat left at the table was beside Kyle.
She did not want to sit there.
She wasn’t sure why except that being around him somehow made her feel awkward, as if she had an upset stomach or was off balance.
Feeling out of place, Sara checked on her pies then began cleaning the mixing bowl and utensils she’d used.
“Sara, come and join us. You deserve a break.” Lucy’s smile made her blue eyes look guileless. “There’s a space for you beside Kyle.”
Sara tried to refuse, but it was easier just to sit down beside Kyle. She was far too aware of him sitting next to her, shifting frequently just like her.
It came as a relief when everyone finally finished and rose to leave. But Sara jumped up too quickly and bumped against Kyle.
“I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, cheeks burning when he grasped the table edge to balance himself. “I’m so clumsy.”
“It wasn’t you. It was me,” he said, wincing. “I haven’t quite got the hang of this new leg they gave me. My therapist insists I checked myself out of therapy too early, so it’s my own fault.”
“Can I help?” she offered, shy but unwilling to let him hurt if she could somehow assuage it. Besides, everyone had gone. If he refused her help, no one would see her embarrassment at being rejected.
“How? More hot salt cloths?” he teased.
“If they’ll help, yes,” she said steadily, meeting his gaze head-on, though her face grew warm under his stare.
Kyle looked at her for so long that she began to wish she hadn’t made the offer.
“Never mind. I should—”
He cut her off. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you, Sara Kane.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she whispered.
Kyle chuckled. It was the first time she’d heard true mirth in his voice.
“Time will tell, Sara.” With that he left for the computer room, his gait odd and uneven but determined.
Sara had no idea what he’d meant.
“Are those pies in danger of burning?” Lucy asked from the doorway, breaking into her reverie. Sara hurried to open the oven as Lucy flipped her phone closed. “I think Kyle likes you,” she said.
“I hope so. I could use a friend.” Sara turned away to concentrate on her work but inside a bubble of happiness rose. She hoped Kyle liked her, she hoped it with every fiber of her being, because she was beginning to like him a lot. Friendship was okay, wasn’t it?
Friendship with a man? In a flood of uncertainty her feelings took a tumble. She wasn’t good at relationships. She certainly didn’t know how to be friends with a man like Kyle. He was an acquaintance but that was all he was. That was all he could be, because she didn’t have anything to offer him, even if she was interested.
Sighing, she lifted out each golden sizzling pie and set it on a cooling rack.
“Now what can I do?” Lucy asked.
“You’ve already done so much.”
“I don’t mean with kitchen work.” Lucy’s hands rested on her shoulders. Gently she eased Sara around to face her. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”
“What you said about Kyle—him liking me, I mean.” Sara gulped. “I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve never had a man as a friend before. It scares me. Maybe I’ll do something stupid to offend him. Or maybe, when he gets to know me, he’ll regret it. I haven’t been anywhere or done anything important, like him. All I can do is cook.”
Shame suffused her. How dorky she sounded, like a stupid, dumb kid.
“And you cook extremely well, Sara.” Lucy brushed a hand over her hair. “But why would you think Kyle would reject friendship with you? Has he done or said something—”
“No, not at all,” Sara interrupted, ashamed that she had somehow made Lucy think ill of Kyle. “It’s just—I’ve been praying God would give me some friends. I’ve never had any, you see. I just didn’t think someone like Kyle would want to be my friend.” Lucy seemed to understand.
“I think you’re going to find a lot of friends in Churchill, my dear. I would be honored to be your first.” She held out her hand.
“Thank you,” Sara said as she folded Lucy’s hand in hers, thrilled that this woman thought of her as a friend.
Could You help Kyle think of me like that, too, God?
*
“Isn’t there something you’d rather do than watch me fiddle with this mess?”
Kyle glared at Sara, wondering why she hung around when it was clear this computer was not going to function properly without a major overhaul.
“I want to learn about computers,” Sara said.
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“I don’t know anything about them.” She bit her bottom lip, something he now recognized as a habit she employed when embarrassed. “It sounds stupid for somebody my age, but I don’t even know how to operate one. Where I grew up, we didn’t have computers.”
“Oh.” He cursed his insensitivity.
“I’m hoping you get one of these running soon so Rod can show me how to use it.” Sara lowered her lids, hiding the expression in her eyes.
“Rod?” Kyle soldered two wires together and tested the connection. “Isn’t he the boy you want to work with in the
greenhouse?”
“Yes. Apparently he’s very good on computers. He plans to set up a web page in memory of his uncle.” Sara frowned, her silvery eyes darkening. “That is what it’s called, right? A web page?”
“Uh-huh.” Kyle held his breath and pressed the on switch. He clenched his fist at the popping sound as sparks sprayed across his workbench. “Piece of junk.” He smacked his fist in the center of the circuit board. “This is hopeless.”
“You can’t make it work?” Sara’s face fell as if she’d lost her best friend.
“I’m good but I’m no magician.” Kyle wished he didn’t feel responsible for those gray clouds in her eyes. “There’s a reason people get rid of old computers, you know.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand and the knot in his shoulder with the other. Then he glanced at his watch. “I’d better get home. I can’t do any more today.”
“You’ve been at this a long time,” Sara agreed.
Kyle looked up, and found he couldn’t make himself look away from her. The sun poured in the window, amplifying her simple beauty, holding him spellbound. When she smiled his breath caught in his throat—until he realized her smile was directed at someone else.
“Come in, Rod,” she said. “I want you to meet Kyle. He owns the greenhouse. He’s also trying to fix these computers for you.”
“Hey.” Rod nodded at Kyle, glanced at the array spread over the workbench and shook his head. The thirteen-year-old made a face. “Wasting your time. They’re pieces of junk.”
Kyle let out a shout of laughter. “I agree with you wholeheartedly, buddy.”
“So?” Rod stared at him.
“There’s nothing here worth salvaging.” Kyle shifted under those intensely dark eyes.
“Uh-huh.” Life seemed to drain out of Rod.
“Sara said you’re planning to set up a web page. About what?”
Kyle wasn’t sure why he was asking. He had his own life to figure out. But there was something about this kid that gnawed at him. He seemed so totally deflated over the loss of the computers.
“It’s uh, personal. You know?” Rod shrugged.
“Yeah, I know about personal.” Kyle hated showing his disability in public but his leg was bothering him something fierce. He’d been seated for too long. He tried to rise, grabbed the side of the bench for balance and forced himself upright, grateful when Sara’s hand supported him.
