by Dora Hiers
Without hesitating, he stepped forward, blinded by the dazzling sunlight. Just then a cloud shadowed the sky, and he blinked, refocused. Realized her hand only extended because of the promised hot chocolate. Disappointment jabbed him in the gut.
“I’m sorry, Chase. My dad said he’d hire a company to do all this. Maybe I should…” she left the offer hanging in the air.
“No worries.” He didn’t correct her misunderstanding about his glutton comment. She’d just ask questions. Questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. Not yet, anyway. But time wasn’t on his side.
“Thanks.” He accepted the mug, sipped. The hot chocolate warmed him all the way down. But not nearly as much as being with her. “You spoke with your father?”
“Last night.”
Her father had never approved of him. Insecurity welled up and old anxieties threatened to swallow him whole, but he pushed them back with a deep, calming breath. God’s hurled your past into oblivion, never to be brought up again. You’re a new creation, remember? God’s artwork, His handiwork, and it’s not your place to belittle His work.
She set a hand on his arm, and he glanced at her. “He’s not the same man, Chase. But then, neither are you. He knows that.”
What was she saying?
“I think he’s quite impressed with you and all that you’ve accomplished. Not sure he’d actually admit to that, but I heard the words he didn’t say.”
He arched a brow. “Not saying that doesn’t matter, but I’m more interested in how his daughter feels.”
She took his cup from him and set both mugs on a window sill, her expression serious, her eyes never wavering from his face.
His heart practically thumped out of his chest.
“I think his daughter’s quite impressed too.” She tugged on her left mitten, still targeting him with her laser vision. “But then she always has been. That’s never changed.” Then, her right.
Her sweet words drifted in to the deepest, most barren cavern of his heart and sparked a yearning. Did she know that she was the measuring stick for every woman he’d ever dated since she left, and that they fell impossibly short? Did she know how long the years seemed to stretch, waiting for her to come back? How much he’d loved her all that time, how much he wished and prayed for a do-over. Literally aching to hold her again, he dug his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her.
“What his daughter wants to know is…” She bent over, scooped some snow in her palm. “If you still like a good…” Her blue eyes sparkled. Her mouth curved wider with every pat of the snowy mound.
What was she up to?
“Snowball fight!” With a quick forward thrust, the wet orb splashed against his coat. She took off, sprinting across the yard, stumbling with every peel of laughter.
“Oh, no, you didn’t.” He chased her, and Diesel pursued him.
He caught up to her in the garden, snagged her around the waist, and tugged her to a stop.
She wound her arms around his back and tilted her face, glowing with laughter and joy, up at him.
He surrendered, allowed his hands to wander to the back of her neck, his fingers to thread through her silky hair. “You’re so beautiful, cupcake.” A hunger for her to be a part of his life every day swelled and swirled inside with an urgency that threatened to unravel him. “I love you, Camille. That has never changed. I want you to stay.”
Moisture glimmered from her eyes, and her mouth formed a silent “oh.” A fat teardrop spilled over and trickled down her face.
He grazed a thumb across her cheek, the dampness giving him courage. “I couldn’t ask you to stay back then because you had so many dreams I could never make come true for you. I couldn’t risk you resenting me. Like my mom did with my dad.” Five-years-old, and his mama’s abrupt departure with a visiting tourist taught Chase that women preferred men with a little cushion in their bank account and ambition to back it up.
“Oh, Chase!” Her chin quivered. She palmed his jaw, her touch comforting and driving him crazy at the same time. “All these years…”
Had she tacked on “wasted” after that? The word was lost when she tugged his neck down, her gaze tracked on his mouth.
He kissed her. Gentle and hopeful, a promise of more to come, but when her arms slid around his neck and fingers toyed with the ends of his hair, heaven met him right where he stood. The way she responded with such urgency, as if the years only strengthened their need for each other, frightened him, jeopardized a decade of pent-up passion, threatened to eradicate his slim thread of self-control.
An insistent voice on his shoulder taunted him to throw restraint to the wind. To pick her up and carry her to a bedroom or lower her to the ground, to reclaim those lost years.
Trust Me, a voice whispered in his spirit. One he couldn’t, wouldn’t, ignore.
He slowed down the kiss, wrapped his arms around her back, and anchored his legs firmly in spot. Willed them not to buckle from the pure joy of holding her in his arms. Give me the discipline I need to honor You, Lord.
When his heart rate finally skidded into the mildly dangerous category, he pulled back, satisfied from her rapid breathing that she’d enjoyed that kiss, wanted it, as much as him. He nudged his forehead to hers, contentment curling in his belly. He almost didn’t want her answer just yet. Could he hang on to the moment a bit longer?
Her phone chimed from the ground. How had it gotten there?
He glanced down.
A man’s face peered up at them. Dark hair, straight white teeth, wide smile. Antonio?
So much for hanging on to the moment. Disappointment and despair kicked contentment right out the window of his heart.
“Oh.” Camille backed away, her hand covering her mouth, horror etched on her face. “What have I done?” Her gaze volleyed between him and the face on the ground. “I’m sorry, Chase!” She reached down and scooped up the phone, raced to the house, mumbling something.
Need to fix this?
Fix what? Fix things with Antonio?
Or was she upset with him for kissing her? He scrubbed both hands across his face, replaying the scene in his head. She hadn’t seemed upset at the time…
Oh, Lord, he had no right to initiate that kiss or to confuse her even more with his profession of love. Not when, technically, she belonged to someone else. What was he thinking?
He had to apologize, get their relationship back on the friendship track. Or risk losing her altogether.
“Camille!” Did that half growl, half groan come from him? He took a step, forcing his uncooperative legs—
Too late. She disappeared inside the house.
Diesel whined and nudged his snout against Chase’s boot.
Chase swallowed, hard, and crouched to scratch the dog’s ears. “I know, buddy, I know. I don’t want her to leave, either. But it’s not looking good. I’m sorry, fella.”
He sighed and stood back up. Dragged a hand through his hair and stared at the back of the house, indecision rooting his legs in place. Weight from a thousand bricks crushed his back. Anxiety churned his gut.
Had he misconstrued God’s voice, His message? Had he heard only what he wanted to hear? Because he’d dreamt of her, of this, for so long?
I gave it my best shot, Lord, and honestly thought I was acting with Your blessing. I don’t know what else to do but leave this situation in Your hands and beg for peace. For Camille. For myself.
****
I need to fix this! The five words ricocheted through Camille’s head for at least the hundredth time since driving away from the house, arriving at the airport and boarding the plane. The only barrier that had kept her from running back and hurling herself into the achingly sweet arms of the man she left behind.
Again.
Soon, very soon, she’d be reunited with the man she loved! She shivered, the tremor a blend of delight and anticipation, and hugged her middle, waiting for the aisle to clear of deplaning passengers. Finally, she uncoiled from the middle se
at and stretched her legs.
“I wish you all the best and hope everything works out for you.” The older woman sitting next to the window smiled up at her.
Five hours into the flight and Edna’s gentle prodding had finally gotten her to open up. Chase had picked a fine time to say he loved her! Why now? Why not ten years ago? Why had he let her go traipsing off to Europe the first time without asking her to stay? Almost twenty-four hours later, and she was still mad at the man!
“Thanks, Edna. And thanks for letting me hash it out.”
The poor guy in the aisle seat, who’d just rolled his eyes and inserted his earbuds the rest of the flight, practically shoved people out of his way in his haste to exit. He didn’t look back, probably anxious to be rid of them.
“Let me get your bag,” Camille offered, and tugged down the floral patterned suitcase from the overhead bin. “Do you need help at the luggage carousel?”
“Thank you, dear. That’s so sweet of you. But I’ll be fine. My grandson should be waiting for me there.”
When they exited the plane, Camille waved and hurried to catch a taxi, anxious to set things right. Eager to dive into her future.
Oh, God, thank You for helping me realize my true feelings. I’m clinging to Your promise that You’ll work all things for my good, that You’ll keep me from making a major mess of things. Oh, and thank You for revealing Yourself to me again and welcoming me back home.
Chapter 8
Chase neared Camille’s house and slowed down. The truck practically idled as he peered out the window, scoping out the front yard. Something was…
Missing! Shock jolted him back against the leather seat. The sign was gone!
He pulled over to the shoulder, shoved the truck in PARK, and stared at the blank spot in the yard where the sign had been.
“Well, that’s it, Diesel. Looks like it sold.” He sighed and rammed fingers through his hair, frustration and hopelessness slinking into his spirit.
He’d lost her for good now. Without the house, she had no reason to come back to Steepleview. No reason. Except him. Yeah, well, that hadn’t turned out so well.
Lord, forgive me for pushing too hard, for moving too fast against Your wishes. Grant me peace in her absence and help me to get on with my life, to be grateful for my blessings instead of always yearning for her. But above all, reveal Yourself to her and guide her steps, wherever they take her. Help Camille to know that I’ll always love her. That You’ll always love her.
The chatter of birds drifted in through the open window along with a cool breeze. The sun, just now lifting past the horizon, warmed his skin. Usually his early morning drive to work on Saturdays was his favorite time of the whole week, anticipating throngs of people enjoying themselves and knowing that he was responsible for their pleasure. Today, he dreaded going to work, being surrounded by smiling faces. All he really wanted was to turn the truck around and hole up in his house until he flushed Camille from his system once more.
Where Wishes Live.
Not.
Where Wishes Died. A slow, agonizing death.
Diesel whined and tapped his paw against Chase’s thigh. Was the dog intuitive enough to pick up on the soul-deep loss slashing Chase’s chest into a million shards? Agonizing. Painful. Permanent.
Chase rubbed the pup’s head. “It’s all right, buddy. Maybe that’s why you showed up when you did. More to help me than the other way around.”
Didn’t God work that way sometimes? Like his relationship with Grainger. Nobody else had got on with the old man except Chase, the main reason he now owned Where Wishes Live rather than just working there.
Shame poked him. He had so much to be thankful for. A great job at an awesome place. People who depended on him. A pup to entertain him and keep the loneliness at bay. A faithful, loving Father, who promised to never leave or give up on him. And Christmas loomed just a few days away. How could he complain?
His phone vibrated and he snatched it from the clip, disappointed to see Samuel’s face on the screen and not Camille’s. But, then, why would he expect Camille to call? “Hey, Samuel. You’re up early.”
“Hey, boss. Don’t you know it. Comes with the territory, it seems. The baby woke us up at four.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, well, Katherine’s parents got in yesterday. So we fed the hungry little urchin and left her with the grandparents. Katherine came in with me.”
Chase heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” An answered prayer already!
The sous chef hadn’t exactly been thrilled about his expanded hours, especially over the holidays. That’s all right. Chase hadn’t been thrilled, either. He wanted Camille back. Missed those short breaks when he stopped in the kitchen just to watch her work with the lame excuse that he needed a cup of coffee and a cookie. But, Katherine’s return was a close second.
“Hmm. Well, the day’s still early. You might not be singing that tune after you get in.”
Chase groaned. “What? Did another cable break?” Already short one lift, closing another would cripple their holiday revenue.
Lord, You know that promise of Yours? The one about not giving us more than we can bear? I think I’m maxed out.
****
The headlights beamed across the dark yard. Good! The realtor had picked up the For Sale sign.
Camille smiled and drove the car into the garage. The door to the last ten years clanged closed behind her.
Peace and contentment curled her toes and danced up her limbs. After the whirlwind of the last few days, the stress and confusion of the last decade, she closed her eyes, soaked in the moment. Thank You, Lord. It feels wonderful to be home, for good. And I’m not just talking a physical location, but, here as well. She thumped her chest just as her phone vibrated.
A text from Katherine. Heading in to give Chase the news. You’re up next. Good luck, girlfriend!
Tingles of anticipation caressed her skin. Excitement pumped fresh blood through her weary limbs. After fifteen hours of being cooped up in a plane, she should be bone tired, but her motor roared with renewed life. She responded to Katherine, tossed her phone in her purse and grabbed the solo suitcase from the trunk.
A shower and change of clothes was first on the agenda. Then, she’d head over to Where Wishes Live. Track down that handsome man whose kiss hadn’t given her a moment’s peace.
****
“I understand, Katherine.” Chase pumped his voice full of enthusiasm. At least, he tried. “Really.”
“I’m sorry, Chase.” The woman’s brow furrowed, a contradiction to the slight curve of her lips. “But I think I may have found a suitable replacement.”
Suitable? Not even. How could anyone replace her or Camille? But he surely couldn’t fault Katherine for wanting to stay home with her newborn.
“It’s been a long day. You guys get out of here. Go on home to that little gal.” Chase planted his palms on the wood desk and heaved himself from his office chair. Every muscle in his body complained from the long day helping Samuel fix the broken cable. But, he’d welcomed the physical labor. Maybe tonight he’d finally sleep.
“Figured you might be singing a different tune before the day was over, boss. Sorry.” Samuel interjected, twining his fingers through his wife’s and leading her to the exit.
“We’ll make this work. Don’t worry, Samuel.” Chase followed the pair to the door and patted his friend’s shoulder, including both of them in his gaze. “Thanks for the heads up, Katherine. Appreciate you looking out for us. Just send me the contact info and I’ll take it from there.”
“Sure.” She gave him a one-armed hug and pulled back with a wink. “I expect you’ll hear from her real soon. And don’t worry, Chase. You’re going to love her.”
Not likely. But he didn’t douse Katherine’s enthusiasm as they left his office.
He shuffled over to the window and slid his hands in his pockets, fatigue and frustration slumping his should
ers. First, finding out someone had purchased Camille’s house. Then spending a couple thousand dollars and nine grueling hours in the brutal cold to get a slope back in service when a mountain of paperwork demanded his attention. Now…this.
Diesel padded over and plunked down on the floor beside him with a dejected huff.
Poor Diesel! Chase hadn’t given the lonely pup much attention today, busy with the repair. But, he couldn’t bring himself to offer any solace now, either, other than allowing the dog to nuzzle his leg.
He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced outside. Enormous lights illuminated the people-speckled trails. At least Katherine and Samuel had waited until after the dinner hour to relay the devastating news.
He was a manager. Why hadn’t he anticipated this? He dropped his chin to his chest, cradled his face in his hands, groaned.
A knock on the office door startled him. Diesel jumped then loped toward the door. Chase jerked his hands away from his face, shoved them deep in his pockets and closed his eyes, didn’t turn around. Maybe whichever employee who’d come bearing more bad news would realize this was not a good time and go away.
****
The sight broke her heart. Chase, defeat sagging his shoulders, face buried in his hands. A wretched sound spilled over into the hall.
Scratching the pup’s belly, she hesitated, reluctant to intrude on such a private moment. Would he be thrilled to see her? Or angry?
Only one way to find out. She hadn’t flown thirty plus hours in the last few days just to cower in the house.
She tapped the door with her knuckles.
Other than jerking his head up and jamming his hands into his pockets, her man didn’t respond. Didn’t even turn around.
Perhaps a different tactic. “I heard you might have an opening for a full-time chef.”
His head twitched, back straightened. As if his body recognized her presence, but he refused to believe it, his stalwart limbs didn’t budge.
“I came to apply for the job.”
This time, he pivoted. His jaw, darkened way past a ripe five o’clock stage, hung open. Wonder flickered to life in his expression, lifted his shoulders. “This is all a dream, right?” He shook his head, scraped his whiskers and rubbed his eyes. Refocused. “Snap, I’m so tired right now, I can’t tell, but thank You, Lord, for the glimmer of hope.”
