Amidst the hubbub, he almost didn’t hear the shrill ring of the phone in the kitchen.
Who in the world? Everyone they knew, it seemed, was there. Could be the station. They had a part-timer at the helm, which meant anything might have happened, from a cart that jammed to transmitter failure. At times like that, he was grateful to have the ’mitter shack perched on the hill behind his house.
He made his way through the throng in the kitchen, elbowing past a group from his Sunday school class to get to the phone on the wall, still ringing for all it was worth.
He grabbed it a half second before the answering machine kicked in. “Hello?”
“David?” A woman’s voice. “Is this … David Cahill?”
Vaguely familiar. Sounded about his age. Definitely a Virginia accent.
“Yes, this is David Cahill.” Why were his palms suddenly clammy? “Sorry about the noise. We’ve got a housewarming going on here.”
“Oh.” The woman paused for a long time. “David, it’s Sherry.”
“Sherry?” A cold steel knife of pain slid through his heart. “Sherry … Robison?”
“Yes.”
Is that all the woman had to say after eight years? “Yes?”
He swallowed a bitter lump in his throat. “Where are you?”
“The Comfort Inn.”
Not here. Not in Abingdon.
“You’re in town?” He gulped, trying to get his bearings, collect his thoughts, which were spinning out of control. Around him in the kitchen, everyone was smiling, chatting, normal. On the phone was a disaster in the making. “What are you doing in Abingdon?”
He heard her take a deep breath. He also heard a young voice in the background and his throat tightened. Josh. “Is Joshua with you?”
She laughed a little, sounding relieved. “Of course he’s with me. I could hardly leave him behind in California. Josh, come say hello to your father.”
“Your father.” His son.
He waited an agonizing thirty seconds before a young boy’s jubilant voice came on the line. “Hi, Dad!”
“Josh.” David squeezed his eyes and turned his back to the crowd in the kitchen, hoping no one noticed. He thanked the Lord that Belle was somewhere else at this exact moment.
“How are you, son?” A lame thing to say, but a start.
“Great, Dad! I like Virginia. We saw horses. Mountains, too.”
“It’s a nice place. Shouldn’t you be in bed by now, Josh?”
“Nah. I slept in the car. We drove forever. Took us a week to get here, Mom said. We traded in our beat-up car. This one’s cool. It’s bright yellow.”
“That’s good, Josh. Let me talk to your mother now, okay?” Because I intend to get some kind of explanation.
“I’m back.” Sherry paused, then whispered something to Josh that David couldn’t decipher. Finally, her voice came on the line. “David, you still there?”
“I’m here.” Not in great shape, but I’m here. “The question is, why are you here, in Abingdon?”
Her voice softened. “David, you once asked me to marry you. I … I laughed, remember?”
“I remember.” Like I could forget.
“Well, I’m not laughing now.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m here to say yes.”
twenty-seven
I could sooner reconcile all Europe than two women.
KING LOUIS XIV
SHERRY COULD TELL THAT David was surprised. Shocked, probably. It might have been better if she’d written first, or called. It just made more sense to go with her heart and come on home to Virginia.
Settling things out west had taken no time at all, not with thousands of dollars to grease the skids. She’d made a few calls to Abingdon before she left California for good. She found out David was definitely single. Remodeling a house out on Spring Creek Road, someone told her. For all she knew, he might be building it for her and Josh. Wouldn’t that be wild?
After all, hadn’t the man sent her money every month for eight years? More faithfully than a lot of guys who were forced to by the courts.
Hadn’t he mailed her a check for twenty thousand dollars three weeks ago? Why would he do that if not so she could get her life in order and come back home? Home to Abingdon, home to him. Surely that’s what he’d been trying to tell her, in his own quiet way.
Most men would have disappeared long ago. Not David Cahill. He loved her, plain and simple. What other explanation could there be? He’d obviously carried a torch for her for eight long years.
Well, then.
She was back in town, determined to light that torch for good. The phone line had been silent for several seconds, so she jumped in. “I guess you’re kinda surprised to hear from me after all this time.”
“Kinda.” His voice, a deep, masculine rumble, sent shivers up her spine.
“That’s understandable. I’m … I’m anxious to see you, David. Josh is, too, as you can tell. Could the three of us have breakfast tomorrow? Or lunch, maybe. You’ll want to sleep in after your wild party, huh?”
“It’s not what you’d call a wild party, Sherry. Just some friends from work and church.”
“Church?” Don’t tell me the man’s gone religious on me. “I didn’t know you went to church.”
“Yeah, I do. Every Sunday.”
“No kidding.” Eight years was a long time, she reminded herself. People changed. Did that mean he wouldn’t be interested in her physically? Not a chance. Not David Cahill, the guy who chased her through the woods on more than one moonlit night. And caught her. Once. Some things about a man might change, but not that.
“Let’s meet at noon, then.” She forced herself to sound lighthearted, nonchalant despite his seeming lack of enthusiasm. It’d never occurred to her that David might not be thrilled to see her, to have her home. That’s what he wanted, right? Maybe he was just shy about it, now that she and Josh were finally back in town. She’d help him adjust to the idea. And fast. “Know any good restaurants?”
“Ah … how about we … eat here?” He sounded uncomfortable. “Money is kinda tight right now.”
“Sure, sure.” That was better anyway. His place. More personal, more private. Let Josh see his new home right off the bat. After our tiny, ugly apartment, Josh will think it’s a palace. “I’m pretty sure I can find it, but if you’ll give me directions, that’d be helpful.” She jotted down a few notes. David’s voice was unusually low. Almost sad. Maybe the party hadn’t gone well. Cost him money he couldn’t afford.
She knew all about money hassles.
Those days were over. Forever, she hoped.
“So, we’ll see you at noon.” She could feel her heart picking up speed at the thought of seeing him again. Was he still a skinny guy, blond hair falling in his face, with blue-gray eyes like Josh’s? Come to think of it, she’d been eyeballing a pint-size version of David Cahill for eight years. Not a chance she’d wouldn’t recognize him. Not hardly.
“Joshua eats anything but fish. Me, I’m not picky in the least. You learn to eat anything when funds get tight.” She paused, realizing how that must have sounded to him. “Uh … David, I know I said this in a letter once, but I want you to know how much those checks meant to us. The money went right for groceries, every month. We would have starved without you.” A little dramatic, but she wanted to make him feel important, appreciated.
“I did what I could, Sherry. I’m sorry it wasn’t more.”
More? Gee whiz, the guy is a saint! She’d better sew things up with him in a hurry, before another woman in town found out what a gem he really was, Cahill or not. The time hadn’t been right before. He was settled now. Had a good job. A house. The timing was perfect.
The timing could not have been worse.
David hung the receiver back in place, numb to his toes. What had he done? Agreed to make lunch for Sherry and Josh Robison, that’s what.
He couldn’t risk being seen with them in a hotel restaurant, having people making as
sumptions, spreading rumors. Not to mention if Sherry made a scene … No, home court was best.
He looked around at the stacks of dirty paper plates, empty glasses, discarded napkins. At least he wouldn’t have to cook, not if they’d willingly eat chicken salad and country ham. Food was the least of his concerns. The auburn beauty walking toward him was what worried him most.
Belle stretched up and kissed the end of his nose. “You’re looking awfully serious for a man who hosted the grandest housewarming event of the decade.” Her full lips opened wide for a heart-stopping smile. “Come say good-bye to Norah and Patrick with me.”
Grateful for the distraction, he followed her into the foyer where the happy couple was making their much-heralded exit. “We’re off to the Martha,” Patrick announced with a roguish leer. “See you Methodists at the second service tomorrow.”
The newlyweds found their car, mysteriously draped with crepe paper and strung with tin cans, a hand-lettered Just Married sign poking up in the back window. Good old Frank the Crank, David guessed with a half smile. He waved the two off, noticing most of the others were gathering their coats and heading for the crowded driveway as well.
The hour was late. Not too late, he hoped. He desperately needed to talk to Belle. The sooner the better.
“At last I have you all to myself.” Belle curled up at the end of the couch, angled close to the fading embers of the fire in a room that had suddenly grown chilly. She’d been watching David closely, ever since she’d found him standing in the kitchen earlier, looking as if he’d lost his best friend.
It had been an emotionally taxing month, she knew, what with the decision about WBT, facing Sherry’s dad at the bank, reuniting with his own father. No wonder the guy looks worn out. She crooked a finger in David’s direction. “Come and sit with me, handsome. I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Me, too.” He poked some life into the fire then joined her on the couch, pulling her into his arms. “You go first.”
She gently pulled back from his embrace. Look him in the eye, woman. Let him know you’re serious. “David, it’s taken me a long time to admit something to myself. Now that I have, it’s time I told you.” She could hear the trembling in her voice, feel the dryness in her mouth.
Wet your lips. Make them move. Go!
“I love you, David. With all my heart, I love you.” Despite her best efforts to hold them back, tears sprang to her eyes. “You’re the kindest, wisest, most godly man I’ve ever known. I know you’ve waited a month to hear this. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. Tonight seemed like … well, the perfect time.”
There. She’d done it. Not so horrid after all.
But he wasn’t smiling. Why isn’t he smiling, Lord? Her heart was behaving like a set of snare drums again, a flurry of beats without rhythm.
It was worse when he finally spoke. “Belle, I’m … I’m so … grateful.”
“Grateful? David Cahill, grateful is what you feel when your mother does your laundry. Not when a woman pours her heart out and says she loves you.”
She could feel her chest tightening, a sob building. No! No dramatics, Belle.
When his long arms reached to pull her closer, she planted her hands firmly on his chest. “No, you don’t. This isn’t something you can cuddle and make go away. You had something to tell me, yes? Suppose you get on with it before I make a bigger fool of myself.” As if that’s humanly possible.
“Belle, I love you. You know that.”
She sniffed, her chin buried in her chest. “Good of you to mention it again. I’d almost forgotten.”
He put one finger under her chin and lifted it up until their eyes met. Sincerity filled his face. Relief, she suspected, filled hers.
“I’ve said it as many times in as many ways as I possibly can.” He dropped his hand and leaned back, obviously needing the distance. “I … I got a phone call tonight that … surprised me.”
“Who from?”
“Sherry Robison.”
A gasp escaped her lips before she could catch it. “That … that Sherry?”
He nodded, looking grim.
“Why? Where is she? What was she calling about? Was Josh with her?” Belle realized she sounded ridiculous, hysterical. “Tell me some good news. Quick, before I faint.”
“I don’t have any good news.”
She didn’t faint, but she did slump over convincingly. “Don’t tell me she’s here in Abingdon.” It came out on a moan. When he didn’t answer her immediately, it was worse than if he’d said the words. Yes. She’s here.
With some effort, she lifted her head. “Why did she come back, David?” I don’t really want to know. Tell me anyway.
“I’m … not sure.”
Yes, you are. She wants you back. I can see it on your face. All over your handsome face.
“Oh?” It was all she trusted herself to say.
He told her then. About the check from George Robison. How he’d mailed it to Sherry. How she’d apparently used the money to wind up her affairs in California and move back home.
Belle groaned two full octaves. “When are you seeing her?”
His eyes darkened. “How did you know?”
“I’m a woman, David. In case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I noticed, Belle.” He said it through clenched teeth.
“I know how we women think. She’s going to use your son to get you back.”
David abruptly stood to his feet. The gaze he fixed on her was as hard as his jawline and every bit as stubborn.
“That’s outrageous, Belle. The woman hasn’t spoken to me for eight years. The last time I heard her voice she was laughing in my face. I’m eager to see Josh, yes. But Sherry? No way. The woman means nothing to me, do you hear me? Nada. Zip.”
“I hear you. And I believe you.” Any trace of humor in the moment had vanished. She, who always sought out silver linings, saw nothing but black clouds ahead, starting with his brooding gray eyes.
She stood, too. Though her hair barely brushed his chin, she wanted to seem strong, able to handle this bump in the road. Not a roadblock, Lord. Please don’t let it be a roadblock.
David’s voice was firm, matter-of-fact. “I’m having the two of them over here tomorrow for lunch. No big deal, leftovers from the party, a chance to meet my son. A chance to explain to Sherry that, should she entertain any ideas of us getting back together, that’s an impossibility.” He slid his hands down her arms with a strong enough grasp to get her attention, to force her to look up at him, whether she wanted to or not.
And stuff it all, she wanted to. Sherry or no Sherry, this was her man and she loved him. Intended to keep him. Fight for him, if necessary.
His eyes were clear, his words convincing. “I love you, Belle. You have nothing to worry about here. I’ll call you the minute they leave tomorrow. Better yet, why don’t you come over at three and meet them both? She’ll see how serious our relationship is and that will be the end of it.”
Was this a tiny slice of silver lining? “Promise you’ll tell her I’m coming, so I won’t feel stupid barging in on your cozy threesome.”
“I’ll tell her. Everything will be fine.” He circled his arms around her in an embrace clearly intended to end the conversation. His warm kiss, suitably long and utterly persuasive, chased away the last of her doubts.
When he finally lifted his lips from hers and checked his watch, he angled his thumb toward the door and murmured, “You’d better head for Main Street, sweetheart.”
“What? And leave this mess for you to clean up? No way.” Belle slipped out of his arms and began gathering up the debris. “I want this place to shine tomorrow. Sherry will take one look at it and know you have a woman in your life who loves you. Got me, mister?”
David’s laugh rolled across the room, warming her to her toes. “Yeah, I got you, Belle. And like it or not, you’ve got me.”
Sherry got there exactly at noon. David watched her pull up in her car—bright yell
ow, just as Josh had described it—then sit there.
Why doesn’t she get out? David opened the front door, impatient to see his son. Hadn’t he waited long enough? He stepped out on the porch as they began climbing out of the small car.
She’s older. Of course, she would be. Wasn’t he? The eight years hadn’t taken much of a toll on her, though. She was still a small thing, with a few more womanly curves. Still had curly brown hair. Wearing it shorter, maybe. Looked good on her. Her face had filled out. Softened. She was smiling. Wearing a lot of makeup, he thought, but she looked nice. Very nice.
Then Josh ran around to her side of the car, and David had eyes only for him.
The resemblance was uncanny. The hair, the eyes, the build. He was staring at his own school pictures from third grade come to life. His chest constricted so tightly he couldn’t speak. Welcome home, Josh, he wanted to say. I love you, son.
Then Josh grinned, big enough to show off his missing teeth, and David felt the vise around his chest relax enough for him to breath again.
The waiting was over. His son was here.
“Come in!” David pushed open the door behind him. Sherry hadn’t taken her eyes off him for a second. Is she disappointed? Have I changed so much? Josh ran ahead of her, stumbling through the door, then turning to be sure his mother was coming close behind. Sherry brushed past David. Closer than necessary, he thought. Blushing, too. Her perfume was nice. Like a flower.
Finally, she spoke. “What a great place.” Her eyes met his. “Did you do all this?”
He was surprised to hear his voice sound normal. “Good bit of it. My dad helped, too.”
“Your dad?”
He understood the incredulous look on her face.
“No offense, but I didn’t think your father could hammer a straight nail. At least, not when I left town.”
David rushed to his defense, trying not to bristle. “The man’s changed. Been sober for four years. Doing well for himself, living in Damascus.”
Mixed Signals Page 33
