The Missionary's Purpose

by Kat Brookes

  “Go away,” Jake grumbled. “There’s no place for you in my dreams.”

  “I could only be so lucky,” she said, the humor clear in her voice.

  Sighing, he opened his eyes once more to find her watching him with a grin. Forget it being a dream. He was caught up in a nightmare. Even if the center of that dream was a silvery-blue-eyed beauty. “Why are you here?”

  “That seems to be your favorite question,” Addy replied as she crossed the room to get his wheelchair. She pushed it up to the bed. “I’m here because breakfast is an important part of everyone’s day. Now hop in and we’ll see that you get yours.”

  He set his tablet aside and crossed his arms. He wasn’t going anywhere, especially with her.

  “Very well,” she said, pushing the wheelchair aside so that she could move to stand next to the bed. “I’ll bring your breakfast in here, and, because I promised your momma I would do this for her, I will see that you eat every single bite. Even if I have to feed them all to you myself.”

  He watched her go, took in that determined straightening of her spine and knew Addy meant what she said. “I’ll eat in the kitchen,” he called after her.

  She stopped, taking a moment before turning around. It hadn’t been long enough to suppress her entire triumphant grin. He’d caught the tail end of it before her expression turned impassive. “Good choice. And once you start feeling more energetic, you can help me fix us breakfast on the days I’m over here.” Then Addy retrieved the wheelchair and wheeled it about so he could settle into it without much effort.

  Jake fell silent as Addy pushed him out into the hallway. The scent of bacon drifted out from the kitchen. He liked bacon, and Addy knew it. He snorted at the ridiculousness of it.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked as they entered the kitchen.

  He glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Did you really think you could win me over with bacon?”

  She pushed him up to the table and set the brakes. “Actually, it’s the maple-pecan waffles I made that I thought might do the trick. At the very least, help make you into the morning person you used to be.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Jake transferred himself into one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Your momma’s at the market, working on refilling the inventory. No doubt a little more at ease today because she knows her son is in good hands.” She set a plate filled with bacon and her specialty waffles in front of him and then filled the two empty glasses on the table with orange juice.

  “Addy, what’s going on here?” he asked as she returned to join him at the table.

  “I’m doing my best to make amends for the part I played in keeping Finn’s existence a secret.” Picking up a crisp piece of bacon, she bit into it. “Even if it means that my penance is going to be keeping you company several days a week and helping you get back to your old self. Because nothing’s changed for me. I still care about you, Jake. I want you to get well and find your smile once more.”

  She cared about him? Her admission filled him with joy, but only for an instant. Addy couldn’t truly have known what it meant to care about someone or she wouldn’t have done what she’d done. “Several days a week?” he repeated, feeling his frown deepen.

  She stabbed at a piece of syrup-drenched waffle. “Maybe longer,” she answered with a shrug. “I guess that depends on how quickly your recovery progresses.”

  “I am definitely dreaming this,” he decided. “Because there is no way this could be happening.”

  Addy glanced up at him from across the table. “Hard to dream when you’re wide-awake,” she said matter-of-factly. “But it’s nice to know I can still have a place in your dreams. Now you’d best start eating before your breakfast gets cold. Of course, you can always warm it up in the microwave.”

  Lord help him. This woman was beyond persistent. With a sigh of what he was determined would only be temporary resignation, Jake sliced into one of the waffles. There was no sense letting a good meal go to waste. He would eat and then he would call Braden. If his best friend wasn’t on duty at the fire station, there was a very good possibility he was lending a hand at The Flower Shack, helping Violet put floral arrangements together for Braden’s grandma. Because that’s what his friend and Mason did on their days off—help others. Jake had once been right there with them, making his contribution to those in need in their town. But now he was forced to sit, literally, on the sidelines and watch while others did what he yearned to do. Especially working out in the orchard. Thankfully, Braden had been stopping by to give Mason a hand with preparing the orchard for winter since Jake was currently incapable of doing so with his injuries.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Addy asked, drawing Jake’s attention back to what he was trying to avoid looking at—her far-too-pretty face. The woman he’d once dreamed about a future with. Not that anyone had known about those longings. Not even Mason or Braden. If only things were the way they used to be. To make matters worse, she smiled at him. “Your momma made some before leaving this morning. I’d be happy to pour you a cup.”

  “Thanks, but juice is enough.” Jake stabbed at one of the sectioned pieces he’d cut from his waffle and shoved it into his mouth. Maple syrup stirred his taste buds to life. Bits and pieces of what tasted like candied pecans and cinnamon filled every chew. And something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Jake couldn’t contain his groan.

  Addy’s face lit up. “Good?”

  “Beyond good,” he was forced to admit.

  “Is there anything you would change about the waffles?” she asked eagerly. “Less cinnamon? More vanilla?”

  “Vanilla?” he said, taking another bite. “That’s the ingredient I couldn’t quite pin down.” It dawned on him that she was leaning forward, truly eager to hear his opinion. “I wouldn’t change it. It’s good the way it is.” He glanced up, meeting her gaze. “Why does it matter what I think about your waffles?” She hadn’t cared about his feelings when she’d kept the fact that he had a nephew from him.

  “Because I’m working on a cookbook,” she replied, easing back in her chair. “I’ve got to make sure the recipes are the best they can be before putting it out there among all the others.”

  He took another bite, savoring its sweetness. “I’d say you’ve got this recipe as perfect as it will ever be. But why try it out on me?”

  She smiled. “Because I know you, of all people, would tell me if it wasn’t good. Especially now that I’m far from being in your good graces. In fact, I’m hoping to try more out on you over the coming weeks.”

  His brow lifted. “So I’m to become your recipe guinea pig?” Why did his response have to sound so eager? He had no intention of letting Addy come back after this day, food or not. He just prayed it wouldn’t be too long before his shoulder had healed enough to allow him to get around in his wheelchair without anyone’s help. Most especially hers.

  Addy smiled at him from across the table. “You love sweets and pastries more than anyone else I know. I can’t think of anyone better to seek an opinion from when it comes to my recipes.”

  The front door opened and then closed, bringing an end to their conversation.

  “Jake?” Mason called out a few moments later.

  “In here,” he answered.

  When his brother stepped into the kitchen and took in the sight of Addy seated at the kitchen table, sharing breakfast with Jake, his eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he said, pausing in the doorway. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

  “I don’t,” Jake said as he reached for his glass of juice, not wanting his brother to misread the situation.

  Mason looked to Addy. “Morning.”

  “Morning,” she replied with a smile. “I’m more your brother’s jailer than his company.”

  Jake choked on the swallow of orange juice he’d just taken.

  Addy fl
ew out of her chair to stand at his side.

  “I’m all right. Wrong pipe,” he said, the words strained as he gasped for air.

  Her hand came to rest on his back. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, slender brows creased in worry.

  Jake fought the urge to give another sputter or two to keep her there. But his better senses prevailed over his foolish heart’s yearnings. “I’m sure. Feel free to return to your breakfast.”

  She pulled her hand away, a slight flush filling her cheeks.

  Mason sniffed the air around him. “I came in for some coffee, but something smells even better.”

  “I made waffles,” Addy said, getting up from the table. “Would you like some?”

  “I might have time for a waffle or two,” his brother replied. “But you can sit right back down,” he told her as he crossed the kitchen to grab a plate from the cupboard. “You’re company.”

  Jake cleared his throat in disagreement.

  Ignoring him, Mason said, “I’m perfectly capable of fixing my plate myself.”

  Jake felt Addy’s gaze sweep in his direction as she settled down into her seat again, and his appetite slid away. He didn’t want to have to depend on anyone to do anything for him. Especially Addy.

  Mason, as if just realizing what he had said, looked to Jake apologetically. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Forget about it,” Jake said, keeping his emotions reined in. “It is what it is.” But Lord willing, it wouldn’t be that way for long. He missed spending his days out in the orchard working with his brother. Missed going on walks through the woods with his nephew. Finn was like a sponge, soaking up every bit of information Jake had to share with him. Things he would have shared with his nephew along the way if he’d been aware of the boy’s existence.

  “He’ll be back on his own two feet before he knows it,” Addy said, drawing Jake’s focus back to the present.

  Mason nodded, his gaze moving to Jake. “I have no doubt. My brother is as stubborn as the day is long, so nothing’s going to keep him down for long. Add that to the prayers he’s got going up from the entire town, and recovery’s going to be a cakewalk for him.” He settled into the chair next to Jake and started cutting into one of the waffles he’d helped himself to. Then he paused. “Okay, I have to ask. How did this happen?” He gestured to Addy and then to Jake with his fork with a grin. “Addy becoming your ‘jailer’ and all.”

  “So you weren’t a part of it?” Jake said in surprise, relieved to know his brother hadn’t been an accomplice.

  Confusion lit Mason’s eyes. “I’m not even sure what ‘this’ is,” he said, shoving a bite of waffle into his mouth.

  “I offered to spend a few days a week with Jake while your momma catches up on some things she’d been neglecting at the market,” Addy explained. “I told her I would help him out and make some food on those days. It gives me a chance to try out a few of the new recipes I came up with.” She looked to Jake. “Although I’m not sure I’ll be coming back again.”

  Was she? Jake was torn over that one. He’d never thought he’d ever talk to Addy again after what she’d done, let alone share breakfast with her. But here he was. A part of him wanted to hold on to his anger toward her, because anger was far easier to deal with than hurt and guilt. Two emotions he’d been swallowed up by over the past few months. The other part of him knew that every bit as much as his momma had been thinking only of him, it was time for him to think of her. Despite his protestations, his momma had been wearing herself thin trying to care for him on top of everything.

  “You might as well,” Jake muttered, his response bringing about looks of surprise on both Addy and his brother’s face. “I’m your best bet for a recipe tester,” he explained, nodding toward the nearby wheelchair. “I can’t run away.”

  The smile that moved across Addy’s face with his reply hit him like that first ray of sunshine in the dawning sky. It was bright, soothing, with an unspoken promise of pushing any gathering storm clouds away. Lord knew he could use fewer storm clouds in his life. If it were anyone but Addy, he would welcome it without hesitation. But homemade waffles and pretty smiles couldn’t repair the damage to their bond. She’d broken his trust. Smashed it to pieces. How did one ever get past something like that?

  Chapter Four

  Addy stood up from the porch chair and then turned to Jake with a smile. It was the third time she’d come over to spend time with him. So far, so good. “Would you like me to go get you another crepe?”

  “Yes, I would,” he replied, and then added with a slight frown, “but I’m going to pass on it. Hard to work the indulgences off when I have an arm in a sling and can’t put any weight on my broken leg.”

  Jake had always been an outdoors kind of man, always into something physically demanding. He’d gone hiking, built things for both the market and while on mission trips, and lifted and carried filled peach crates to and fro. But to point that out would only serve as a reminder of all he couldn’t do until he’d healed fully. So for now he would spend his time reading, researching upgrades for the orchard, and, when Addy was there, spend time out on the porch in what was more or less one-sided conversation. That was because he couldn’t bring himself to open up to her like he used to. But Addy picked up the slack and chatted on about Mama Tully’s dogs, wedding preparations for Lila and Mason’s wedding, and other lighthearted subjects. While it made no sense at all, he’d almost begun to look forward to her visits.

  “That will keep me from overindulging, too,” Addy said as she reached for his empty plate. Stacking it atop her own, she said, “I’ll go wash our dishes before the chocolate drizzle dries on the plate. Will you be all right out here?”

  “I’ll just stay where I am,” Jake replied with that look of frustration he always got whenever she offered to do something for him.

  She’d been back in Sweet Springs for just over two weeks, but it felt like so much longer. Maybe because she spent days just wanting her world to be right again. It had been five days since Jake had agreed to accept Addy into his life—temporarily. For a few hours on three of those days, she’d kept Jake company. While she might have been making better headway if they were together every day, Addy was grateful for any time she could get with him. Even if she was the one who did most of the talking whenever they were together. Being with Jake still felt good and fed her hope of repairing at least some of the damage she’d done to their friendship. When she’d lost her job she’d been devastated. But it had, in fact, been a blessing, giving her some much-needed time to devote to her personal life.

  “Okay,” she said with a nod before making her way back inside. As was their newly forming routine. On the days she came over, they would share breakfast she’d made for them. Then they would either sit out on the porch or move to the living room where they would spend a couple of hours watching television. At least Jake would. Her focus always drifted over to where he sat in the recliner chair, longing for the comradery they’d once shared. Then he would ask to be taken to his room so he could rest, and she would head back to Mama Tully’s place.

  Moments later, she stepped out onto the front porch to join Jake who, no doubt using his good leg, had maneuvered himself in his wheelchair over to the porch railing. He now sat gazing off into the orchard.

  Addy was about to remind him that he was still healing, and that she would have been more than happy to push him across the porch, when she noted that he wasn’t looking off into the distance anymore. Instead, his eyes were squeezed shut, head hung slightly. Had he hurt himself in his effort to prove he didn’t need her help?

  “Jake,” she groaned in both frustration and empathy.

  His head snapped up, his unbound arm coming up to swipe across his face with the back of his sleeve. “Stupid allergies.”

  Since when had Jake developed allergies? Addy’s heart squeezed knowingly. It wasn’t allergies
affecting him. The sheen she’d seen in his eyes came from pain, probably physical and emotional, if she had to guess. But that was Jake, determined to keep his suffering to himself.

  Sighing, she started toward him. “You might prefer to suffer in silence, but I’m not about to stand around and watch you do so. Let’s get you inside and get some pain medicine in you to help ease your discomfort.”

  “No,” he ground out, halting her steps.

  “No? Jake don’t be silly,” she scolded lightly. “There’s no reason for you to sit there hurting the way you are when your doctor prescribed you medication.”

  “I’m not hurting,” he grumbled, averting his gaze. “Just dealing with a few things in my head. In fact, you might as well call it a day here. I’m sure you and Lila have plenty of wedding plans that need to be mulled over. I’m just going to sit out here and think.”

  “The doctor expects him to make a complete recovery physically.” Lila’s words from that day shoved their way into her thoughts. Did he actually think she could just call it a day?

  “Lila and I can work on wedding plans this evening,” she told him as she crossed over to where he sat. Lifting her hand, she let it hover over his shoulder for a long moment before lowering it. “I’m not going anywhere, Jake. Other than into the house if you’d like some time alone. If you feel like talking, I’m a good listener. Anything you need, just ask. I’m all yours for the afternoon.”

  * * *

  All his. How many years had he longed to hear those words? Instead of soothing him, they twisted in his gut, right along with those already churning memories of the ambush. He turned his head to look up at her. “You want to know what I need, Addy? I need to go back to the life I used to live! I want to be able to go out into that orchard,” he said, pointing toward the rows of peach trees, “and walk for miles. Or take the ATV up and down those rows, taking in the legacy my daddy left behind for us. Can you make that happen?”