“So did you. Thanks again for all your help.” She smiled, but the sadness in her eyes remained.
“It was no problem. People in my congregation call me all the time for help.” Though he had to admit he’d been surprised by Opal’s early morning summons. Flowers? Definitely not his thing.
“That may be true, but being woken up before dawn and asked to do a job you’re not getting paid for goes way beyond the call of duty.”
“But not beyond the call of friendship.”
“If that’s the case, Opal is lucky to have a friend like you.”
“In my experience, luck doesn’t have a whole lot to do with how things work out.”
“You’re right about that.” She straightened, brushing thick black bangs from her eyes. “Opal came into my life just when I most needed someone. I’ve always thought that was a God thing. Not a luck thing.”
“But?”
She raised an eyebrow at his question, but answered it. “Lately it’s been hard to see much of God in the things that have happened in my life.”
“You’ve had a hard time.” The scars on her neck and hand were testimony to that, the pain in her eyes echoing the physical evidence left by whatever had happened.
Chloe’s gaze was focused on some distant point. Maybe the trees. Maybe the last rays of the dying sun. Maybe some dream or hope that had been lost. “Yes, but things are better now.”
He was sure he heard a hint of doubt in her voice, but she didn’t give him a chance to comment, just shrugged too-thin shoulders. “I’d better get back inside before Opal sends out a posse.”
The words and her posture told Ben the conversation was closed. He didn’t push to open it again. Much as he might be curious about Chloe, he had no right to press for answers. “I’m surprised she hasn’t already. There must be at least five unmarried men she hasn’t introduced you to yet.”
“Is that what was going on? I was wondering why almost every person she introduced me to was male.” She laughed, light and easy, her body losing some of its tension, her lips curving into a full-out grin that lit her face, glowed in her eyes.
“You should do that more often.”
The laughter faded, but the smile remained. “Do what?”
“Smile.”
“I’ve been smiling all day.”
“Your lips might have been, but your heart wasn’t in it.”
She blinked, started to respond, but the door to the reception hall flew open, spilling light and sound out into the deepening twilight.
“There you are!” Opal’s voice carried over the rumble of wedding excitement as she hurried toward them. “Things are winding down. It won’t be long before Hawke and Miranda leave.”
“Are you hinting that we should get back inside?”
“You know me better than that, Ben. I never hint.”
It was true. In the years Ben had been pastoring Grace Christian Church, Opal had never hesitated to give her opinion or state her mind. A widow who’d lost her husband the same year Ben lost his wife, she was the one woman Ben knew who’d never tried to set him up with a friend, relative or acquaintance.
She had, however, told him over and over again that a good pastor needed a good wife. Maybe she was right, but Ben wasn’t looking for one. “So, you’re telling us we should get back inside?”
“Exactly.” She smiled. “So, let’s go.”
There was no sense arguing. Ben didn’t want to anyway. He’d come outside to make sure Chloe was okay and to satisfy his curiosity. He’d accomplished the first. The second would take a little more time. Maybe a lot more time.
That was something Ben didn’t have.
Much as he loved his job, being a pastor was more than a full-time commitment. Opal’s opinion about a pastor needing a wife aside, Ben had no room for anything more in his life. That was why he planned to put Chloe Davidson and her sad-eyed smile out of his mind.
Planned to.
But he knew enough about life, enough about God, to know that his plans might not be the best ones. That sometimes things he thought were too much effort, too much time, too much commitment, were exactly what God wanted. Only time would tell if Chloe was one of those things.
He pushed open the reception hall door, allowing Chloe and Opal to step in ahead of him. Light, music, laughter and chatter washed over him, the happy excitement of those in attendance wrapping around his heart and pulling him in.
“Ben!” Hawke Morran stepped toward him, dark hair pulled back from his face, his scar a pale line against tan skin.
Ben grabbed his hand and shook it. “Things went well.”
“Of course they did. I was marrying Miranda. Thank you for doing the ceremony. And for everything else. Without your help we might not be here at all.” The cadence to his words, the accent that tinged them, was a reminder of where he’d grown up, of the life he’d lived before he’d come to the States to work for the DEA, before he’d been set up and almost killed. Ben had met him while he was on the run, offered the help Hawke needed, and forged a friendship with him.
“There’s no need to thank me. I was glad to help.”
“And I’m glad to have made a friend during a very dark time.” He smiled, his pale gaze focused on his wife.
“Are you returning to Thailand for your honeymoon?”
“We are. I want Miranda to experience it when she’s not running for her life.”
“Try to stay out of trouble this time.”
“I think my days of finding trouble are over.” He paused, glanced at the hoard of women who had converged on his bride. “Miranda is finally going to toss the flowers. Come on, let’s get closer. My wife doesn’t know it, yet, but as soon as she finishes, she’s going to be kidnapped.”
That sounded too good to miss and Ben followed along as Hawke moved toward the group. Miranda smiled at the women crowded in front of her, turned and tossed the bouquet. Squeals of excitement followed as the ladies jostled for position, the flowers flying over grasping hands and leaping bridesmaids before slapping into the chest of the only silent, motionless woman there.
Chloe.
Her hands grasped the flowers, pulled them in. Then, as if she realized what she was doing and didn’t like it, she frowned, tossing the bouquet back into the fray. More squeals followed, more grasping and clawing for possession. Chloe remained apart from it all, watching, but not really seeming to see. Ben took a step toward her, hesitated, told himself he should let her be, then ignored his own advice and crossed the space between them.
Chapter Four
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman catch the bouquet and throw it back.” Ben Avery’s laughter rumbled close to Chloe’s ear, pulling her from thoughts she was better off not dwelling on. Hopes, dreams, promises. All shattered and broken.
She turned to face him, glad for the distraction, though she wasn’t sure she should be. “I didn’t throw it. I tossed it.”
“Like it was a poisonous snake.” The laughter was still in his voice and, despite the warning that shouted through her mind every time she was with Ben, Chloe smiled.
“More like it was a bouquet I had no use for.” She glanced away from his steady gaze, watching as a little flower girl emerged triumphant from the crowd of wannabe brides, the bouquet clutched in her fist. “Besides, it seems to have gone to the right person.”
Ben followed the direction of her gaze and nodded. “You may be right about that, but tell me, since when do flowers have to be useful? Aren’t they simply meant to be enjoyed?”
“I suppose. But I’m not into frivolous things.” Or things that reminded her of what she’d almost had. That was more to the point, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Ben.
“Interesting
.”
“What?”
“You’re not into frivolous things but you work in a flower shop.” His gaze was back on Chloe, his eyes seeming to see much more than she wanted.
To Chloe’s relief, a high-pitched shriek and excited laughter interrupted the conversation.
“Look.” Ben cupped her shoulder, urging her to turn. “Hawke told me he was going to kidnap his bride. I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it.”
But he had, the broad-shouldered, hard-faced groom, striding toward the exit with his bride in his arms, the love between the two palpable. Chloe’s chest tightened, her eyes burning. At least these two had found what they were seeking. At least one couple would have their happy ending.
For tonight anyway.
The cynical thought weaseled its way into Chloe’s mind, chasing away the softer emotions she’d been feeling. She brushed back bangs that needed a trim and stepped away from Ben, ready to make her escape. “I’m going to start cleaning things up in the sanctuary.”
“You most certainly are not.” Opal appeared at her side, a scowl pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You’re going home. I’ll take care of things here.”
“I’m not going to leave you to do all this alone.”
“Who said I’d be alone?” As she spoke a white-haired gentleman stepped up beside Opal, his hand resting on her lower back. Opal glanced back and met his eyes, then turned to Chloe. “This is Sam. He and I go back a few years.”
“A few decades, but she won’t admit it.” The older man smiled, his face creased into lines that reflected a happy, well-lived life. “Sam Riley. And you’re Chloe. I’ve heard a good bit about you.”
“Hopefully only good things.” Sam Riley? It was a name she hadn’t heard before. That, more than anything, made her wonder just what kind of relationship he had with Opal.
“Mostly good things.” He winked, his tan, lined face filled with humor. “But I promise not to share any of the not-so-good things I heard if you’ll convince Opal to go for a walk with me after this shindig.”
“Sam Riley! That’s blackmail.” Opal’s voice mixed with Ben’s laughter, her scowl matched by his smile.
“Whatever works, doll.”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” But it was obvious she didn’t really mind; obvious there was something between the two. A past. Maybe even a future.
And no one deserved that more than Opal. “If you agree to go for a walk with Sam, I’ll agree to go home without an argument.”
Opal speared her with a look that would have wilted her when she was a scared ten-year-old spending the night with her grandmother’s neighbor. “And that’s blackmail, too. I thought I’d taught you’d better than that, young lady.”
“You tried.”
Opal looked like she was going to argue more, then her gaze shifted from Chloe to Ben and back again. She smiled, a speculative look in her dark eyes. “Of course, I’ll need the van and you’ll need a ride back to the shop. Ben, you don’t mind giving Chloe a ride to Blooming Baskets, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“I appreciate that, Ben, but we’ve put you out enough.” It was a desperate bid to gain control of the situation. One Chloe knew was destined to fail.
“You’re not putting me out at all.”
“Good.” Opal smiled triumphantly. “It’s all settled. We’d better get started, Sam. It’s getting colder every minute and I don’t plan on freezing just so you and I can go for a walk.” She grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him away.
“I guess we’ve got our orders.” Ben’s hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark slacks, his profile all clean lines and chiseled angles. He would have fit just fine on the cover of GQ, his sandy hair rumpled, his strong features and easy smile enough to make any woman’s heart jump.
Any woman except for Chloe.
Her heart-jumping, pulse-pounding days of infatuation were over. Adam’s betrayal had ensured that. Still, if she’d had her camera in hand, she might have been tempted to shoot a picture, capture Ben’s rugged good looks on film.
“Trying to think of a way out of this?” Ben’s words drew her from her thoughts. She shook her head, her cheeks heating.
“Just wishing Opal hadn’t asked you to give me a ride. Like I said, you’ve already done enough.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” His hand closed around her elbow, the warmth of his palm sinking through the heavy fabric of her jacket as he smiled down into her eyes.
And her traitorous, hadn’t-learned-its-lesson heart skipped a beat.
She wanted to pull away, but knew that would only call attention to her discomfort, so she allowed herself to be led out into the cool fall night and across the parking lot toward the trees that edged the property. Evergreens, oaks and shadows shifted and changed as Chloe and Ben moved closer. Was there someone watching? Maybe the same someone she’d seen that morning.
Chloe tensed, the blackness of the evening pressing in around her and stealing her breath. “Where’s your car?”
“It’s at my place. Just through these trees.”
Just through the trees.
As if walking through the woods at night was nothing. As if there weren’t a million hiding places in the dense foliage, a hundred dangers that could be concealed there. Chloe tried to pick up the pace, but her throbbing leg protested, her feet tangling in thick undergrowth. She tripped, stumbling forward.
Ben tightened his hold on her elbow, pulling her back and holding her steady as she regained her balance, his warmth, his strength seeping into her and easing the terror that clawed at her throat. “Careful. There are a lot of roots and tree stumps through here.”
“It’s hard to be careful when I can’t see a thing.”
“Don’t worry. I can see well enough for both of us.” His voice was confident, his hand firm on her arm as he strode through the darkness, and for a moment Chloe allowed herself to believe she was safe, that the nightmare she’d lived was really over.
Seconds later, they were out of the woods, crossing a wide yard and heading toward a small ranch-style house. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”
“It’s cute.”
“That’s what people keep telling me.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Cute isn’t my forte, but my wife, Theresa, probably would have enjoyed hearing the word over and over again. Unfortunately, she passed away a year before I finished seminary and never got a chance to see the place.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“You must miss her.”
“I do. She had cystic fibrosis and was really sick at the end. I knew I had to let her go, but it was still the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Chloe understood that. Despite anger and bitterness over Adam’s unfaithfulness, she still mourned his loss, and desperately wished she could have saved him. She imagined that years from now she’d feel the same, grieving his death and all that might have been. “I understand.”
“You’ve lost someone close to you?” He pulled the car door open, and gestured for her to get in, his gaze probing hers.
“My fiancé.” Ex-fiancé, but Chloe didn’t say as much. “He died eleven months ago.”
“Then I guess you do know.” He waited until she slid into the car, then shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. “Had you known each other long?”
“Three years. We were supposed to be married this past June.” But things had gone horribly wrong even before the accident and they’d cancelled the wedding a month before Adam’s death.
“Then today’s wedding must have been tough.”
Chloe shrugged, not wanting to acknowledge even
to herself just how tough it had been. Dreams. Hopes. Promises. The day had been built on the fairy tale of happily-ever-after and watching it unfold had made Chloe long for what she knew was only an illusion. “Not as hard as it would have been a few months ago.”
“That’s the thing about time. It doesn’t heal the wounds, but it does make them easier to bear.” He smiled into her eyes before he started the car’s engine, the curve of his lips, the electricity in his gaze, doing exactly what Chloe didn’t want it to—making her heart jump and her pulse leap, whispering that if she wasn’t careful she’d end up being hurt again.
Chapter Five
It was close to seven when Chloe pulled her Mustang up to the Victorian that housed her apartment. Built on a hill, it offered a view of water and mountains, sky and grassland, the wide front porch and tall, gabled windows perfect for taking in the scenery. When Opal had brought her to look at the place the previous week, Chloe had been intrigued by the exterior. Walking through the cheery one-bedroom apartment Opal’s friend had been renting out, seeing its hardwood floors and Victorian trim, modern kitchen and old-fashioned claw-foot tub, had sealed the deal. She knew she wanted to live there.
Unlike so many other places she’d lived in, this one felt like home.
Tonight though, it looked sinister. The windows dark, the lonely glow of the porch light doing nothing to chase away the blackness. Her car was the only one in the long driveway and Chloe’s gaze traveled the length of the house, the edges of the yard, the stands of trees and clumps of bushes, searching for signs of danger. There were none, but that didn’t make her feel better. She knew just how quickly quiet could turn to chaos, safety to danger.
She also knew she couldn’t stay in the car waiting for one of the other tenants to return home or for daylight to come.
She stepped out of the car, jogging toward the house, her pulse racing as something slithered in the darkness to her right. A squirrel searching for fall harvest? A deer hoping for still-green foliage?
Or something worse?
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