She began to chuckle, which turned into a full-fledged laugh. The laugh lines at the corners of her eyes deepened, much more attractive than the pesky crevice that appeared when she worried.
“I changed our place settings three times.” She motioned for Rodney to sit at the head of the table. “I liked this arrangement best but thought it might be too”—pink tinged her cheeks; then she shrugged in it’s-too-late-now fashion, never letting her bright smile fade—“intimate. Please sit down.”
“Not for me.” Rodney moved closer, then reached around her and took hold of the chair back.
“Oh.” Caroline sat and let Rodney guide her chair to the table. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone’s done that for me?”
Rodney slid his own chair closer to the table. “A long time?”
“Yeah.” Caroline sighed the word. She reached for the serving spoon. Rodney stopped her hand in midair by covering it with his own.
“I’d like to say grace.” He squeezed her delicate hand.
“Please do.” Caroline wrapped slender fingers that felt like silk around Rodney’s hand and bowed her head. Rodney’s family folded their hands in prayer when saying grace, but had he known Caroline’s tradition was to hold hands, he’d have prayed out loud versus silently at every meal they’d shared together. He’d longed to touch her since their first meeting when their simple handshake left a faint tingle on his palm.
“God in heaven, thank You for the bounty of Your love that You bestow on us each and every day. You are a faithful Father, letting us cast our cares upon You and providing for all our needs. Bless the food we are about to receive. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.”
“Amen.” Caroline gave his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her grasp. “Better dig in before the apples and banana start to turn brown.”
Rodney gave her a short salute, spread his napkin in his lap, and scooped a spoonful of fruit. Caroline shook her head as if annoyed by his antics, but her blue eyes twinkled with amusement.
“How was your day?” he asked.
The deep sigh and sagging shoulders answered Rodney’s question long before Caroline spoke. Worry pushed the happiness from her features. Regret that he’d asked about her day washed through him. Not quite the mood he’d hoped to set.
“Jason visited this morning.”
Odd that that would make her unhappy. His mom had been overjoyed when he’d visited. And Michelle seemed glad to spend time with her own sons.
Caroline reached for Rodney’s empty fruit dish, stacked it with hers, and set them aside. Caroline efficiently served the main course. “Is this enough?”
“That depends on if I can have seconds.”
The corner of Caroline’s mouth twitched. He waited for the corner of her bottom lip to disappear. “You might want to taste it before you ask for seconds. I haven’t made this dish in years.”
“Well, if it tastes as good as it smells and looks, then I’ll want seconds.” Rodney took a bite of the fish and rice. The nutty rice and flavor-filled fish melted on his tongue, his low growl of pleasure inadvertent. “This is fantastic.”
“Thank you.” Caroline gave a curt nod and tasted her dinner. “How was your day?”
“Typical. Since last week’s snow thawed in yesterday’s forty-two-degree temps and this morning it was ten degrees, we made the rounds to all my clients’ houses and put ice melt on the walks and driveways.”
“You know what they say about South Dakota’s weather. If you don’t like it, stick around for an hour because it’ll change.”
“That’s the truth.”
“Do most snow removal companies check for ice when it thaws?” Caroline sipped her water and blotted the corners of her mouth with her napkin.
“I don’t know. I do it because I have elderly clients. Even if they’re able to spread the ice melt, they shouldn’t be out on the ice.” Rodney helped himself to more trout and rice.
“Rodney, that’s very thoughtful.”
“Well…” How could he tell her that guilt drove him to provide that service? The thought had never entered his mind that his mother had needed help with things like that until she insisted he come to her house to recuperate. He saw how much she paid to unreliable service companies that did a mediocre job at best. How long had she struggled with that or relied on a neighbor to help?
“It’s part of the job. By the way, I received an e-mail from my mom’s cousin.”
“An answer about the quilt? Is another mystery solved, Sherlock?”
Rodney mocked removing a pipe from his mouth. “No, Dr. Watson, I don’t believe so. In fact, it may have added another one. She seems to think that another of our cousins, who moved to California years ago, made it.”
“So you don’t have contact information for that cousin?”
“No, because I didn’t even know Mom had a cousin in California.” Can’t know your relatives if you never visited home much. “I sent another mass e-mail to see if any other relatives keep in contact with her.”
“Guess that’s all you can do, and if she is the one who made the quilt, then mystery solved.”
Caroline and Rodney finished their dinner in companionable silence.
Rodney pushed his empty plate toward the center of the table.
“I’ll get the coffee and dessert.” Caroline eased out of her chair.
The quiet that filled the dining room in Caroline’s absence surrounded Rodney. He missed eating a freshly cooked meal at a table. He missed sharing dinner with someone. He missed Caroline. Rodney started to gather the dishes on the table.
Caroline stopped pouring coffee into cups when Rodney entered the kitchen, carrying a stack of dirty dishes. “You didn’t have to do that! You’re my guest.”
“I’m your friend.” God, please let her think more of me than a guest. Rodney sent up the silent prayer, then set the dishes on the counter.
“Yes, you are.” Caroline’s tender expression and soft-spoken words engaged a flutter of hope inside Rodney. Friendship was a start.
“Shall we go back to the dining room?” Caroline picked up the saucers and balanced the cups.
Rodney picked up the individual servings of cake. “Here is just fine.” He turned and set them on the kitchen table.
“I have something to show you.” Caroline gently put the saucers and filled cups down. “I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she headed toward the basement.
When she returned, Rodney had polished off half of his cake and coffee. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said and slipped another forkful of cake into his mouth.
“Do you know how nice it is to cook for someone other than myself?”
“I’m guessing as nice as it is to eat at a table and share conversation.” He exchanged a smile with Caroline. “What have you got there?”
“It’s the practice block for the candy store’s quilt. What do you think?”
Caroline laid a large block out on the table, then dug into her dessert.
In awe of her abilities, Rodney whistled. “I’m amazed at how you looked at that drawing and came up with this.” She’d cut the jelly bean fabric into a hexagon shape that resembled the old-fashioned candy store jars from years past. A simple rectangle from the red material became the jar lid. Black thread accentuated the jar and lid shape and, he guessed, held them onto the brown square block. It truly looked like candy in a candy jar.
“I think the store owner will be pleased.”
“I hope so.” Caroline crossed her fingers. “It turned out almost perfect on the first try.”
Rodney recognized the pride in her work that settled in her features. He’d seen it on his own face for years and again recently with the work on Caroline’s website.
“At least something went right today.” Caroline pushed the block to the side of the table. Sadness washed across her features. “Would you like another piece of cake?”
Clearly she was trying to change the subject. Rodney yea
rned for another piece of cake but guessed the fudge frosting was laced with butter. “Thank you, but no.” Rodney patted his stomach. “I’ve had plenty, but I could use a coffee refill.” Rodney rose before Caroline had the chance and picked up the coffeepot and dry creamer. “How about you?”
“Fill ‘er up.” Caroline scooted her cup toward him.
After pouring her coffee, Rodney turned the kitchen chair sideways and stretched his legs to their full length, crossing them at the ankle. He stirred the creamer into his coffee. His next question could go two ways, but it was worth the risk. He wanted to be trusted with Caroline’s cares just like she shared the love of her work with him.
“Do you want to talk about your day?”
Caroline puckered her mouth to the side, but the worry crease never appeared. Her eyes searched his face. For what? Sincerity in the question?
“I really don’t want to bother you with my troubles.”
“I asked, so how can it be a bother? Besides, we’re friends, right?”
“Yes, we are, but…” Hesitation filled her voice. “I just don’t want you to view Jason in the wrong light. He’s a good person, but Ted’s death was hard on everyone. We buried him a week to the day before Jason’s wedding.”
A joyous occasion turned bittersweet by the loss of a loved one. “That must have been so hard. I can’t even imagine.” Rodney reached over and clasped Caroline’s hand, the only comfort their current relationship allowed.
“Hard doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Caroline sniffed as the memory misted her eyes. “But that’s not the problem. Please don’t think we’re horrible people.”
Like Mr. Workaholic, who’d chosen to ignore his biological family and failed to start one of his own, had the right to judge anyone’s family dynamics. He tightened his hold on her soft hand as a sign of encouragement to continue.
Her blue eyes locked on his. “Jason doesn’t support my business venture. He thinks I wasted my money on the long arm machine.” A flash of anger passed over her features. “He doesn’t want me to work, just like Ted didn’t, but…”
Disgust pulled at Rodney. Did he expect her to stop living because his dad died? What was wrong with Caroline’s having a career? Who would it be hurting? She was too young to wither away in an empty house, which it appeared she’d been doing for over a year. Rodney purposely kept his voice even. He didn’t want his reaction to shut Caroline down. “But?”
Caroline huffed. “I have to work, and I’m tired of him voicing his opinion about it every time I see him. I know it’s risky, but after today I’m more determined than ever to make this business succeed.” She pulled her hand free of Rodney’s and rapped her fist on the table in determined emphasis.
Rodney’s heart jumped. Caroline revealed another layer of her personality. “Fired up” became her. Her rosy cheeks deepened to a shade just lighter than her hair, making the blue in her eyes more vibrant. He suppressed a chuckle, understanding now why some men teased a woman to annoyance. “Then now would be a good time to show you an update I made on your website this afternoon.”
They went into the den. Caroline sat at the desk and wiggled the mouse to wake up the computer. Her e-mail account popped onto the screen, announcing she had mail. She clicked the button to close that message. “I don’t recognize this e-mail address. The subject line says quilt.”
Rodney watched her open then scan the message. She jumped from the office chair, turned, and grabbed Rodney by the shoulders. “The website redesign worked.” Her voice reflected her glee. “I got a quilt job.” She wrapped Rodney in a hug.
Rodney closed his eyes and pulled her close. This was the best paycheck he’d earned for his work. Ever.
Chapter 5
Caroline deliberated too long on what to wear to church and whether she should even go. In the end, she slipped into black corduroys and a snowflake-dotted black turtleneck with a black quilted vest. She chose dangly snowflake earrings since she let her natural curls bounce loose.
She hurried up the steps to the church door, certain she’d be creeping into church during the call to worship.
“There you are.” Mildred waited in the narthex. “Rodney and I saved you a seat in our pew.”
Caroline didn’t have the time to protest. But did she want to? Mildred grasped her coat sleeve and pulled her past the choir lined up, waiting for the processional to begin. The first notes of music sounded as she and Mildred turned up the aisle. Rodney craned his neck in a fifth-row pew, his smile instant when their eyes met. He slid from the pew and stood in the aisle to allow Mildred and Caroline’s entrance.
Mildred almost stepped on Caroline’s toes so she could enter the pew first, leaving Caroline to sit in the middle. Rodney reseated himself beside her. Close beside her. Her body warmed from the knowledge that Rodney sat near enough that their hands might accidentally brush. A shiver of excitement shot through her when her thoughts turned back to their embrace a few nights ago.
Movement to each side of her caught her eye. She stood seconds later than Rodney and Mildred. Caroline chided herself for not paying attention and for what she was thinking about in church. When the leader started the reading, she realized she had no bulletin. She turned toward Mildred, who had her paper close to her nose.
Rodney’s elbow bumped her arm. He extended his arm between them, holding the bulletin at a distance. He managed to get through the reading by squinting, since no glasses were perched on his nose. The organist hit a chord, and as the choir sang a choral response, the congregation sat down.
Caroline reached for a hymnal from the holder attached to the pew in front of her. Only one songbook. She looked toward the other holder. Empty. She eyed Mildred, who appeared to be absorbed in the bulletin. The missing bulletin…shortage of hymnals…insisting she sit with them…Mildred had set her up.
Wouldn’t she be surprised to find out that Caroline didn’t mind at all. In fact, she liked it. She flipped through the hymnal until she found the page for the first congregational hymn. Between the small, italicized print and Rodney’s missing glasses, she was sure she’d have to stand close to him. Another fact she liked. And a quick scan of the bulletin told her she’d get to share the hymnal three more times. Perfect.
Not perfect. Caroline felt her eyes grow wide. Lately she’d just mumbled along while others sang out strong, which was probably for the best, because despite all the talents the Lord had blessed Caroline with, singing wasn’t one of them.
Her pulse quickened. If she mumbled or didn’t sing along, what would Rodney think? If she did sing along, he’d probably step as far away from her as possible without standing in the aisle.
The time to decide ran out. The opening chords of the hymn floated through the sanctuary. As they stood with the congregation, she offered the hymnal to Rodney. He pulled the left side of the book to him and sidestepped closer to Caroline. He moved the book higher and Caroline followed his lead to keep the writing even. Certain the type was difficult for him to read, she considered, then offered the entire book to Rodney.
He frowned and pushed the book back at her. As the congregation started to sing, Rodney leaned over, never taking his eyes from the music, and whispered in Caroline’s ear. “I don’t sing well.” He began to hum along with the song.
Caroline touched Rodney’s arm until he looked at her. “Neither do I.” She mouthed the words.
Rodney grinned and in a flat baritone sang out strong. Caroline followed his lead off-pitch but trying to sing the alto’s harmony part. Luckily for them, Mildred’s lovely soprano, still strong after all these years, echoed through the rafters.
Rodney looked handsome in his dark green sweater and black dress pants. He smelled nice, too. Woodsy and spicy. Ted had worn a heavy musk, while Rodney’s cologne smelled fresh, light, clean. Sneaking sideways glances, she admired the strong lines of Rodney’s profile and the middle-aged etchings that added depth to his face. Before Caroline knew it, their pastor recited the benediction.
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As they rose from the pew, Mildred touched Caroline’s arm. “Dear, a few of our breakfast group need to attend a meeting now. We decided to meet for lunch today instead of breakfast. You’re both welcome to join us.”
“Oh.” Caroline turned to Rodney to relay the message.
“I know. Mildred told me earlier, but I’m not going to be able to make lunch. I expect my sister about one today.”
Rodney stepped out of the pew as the aisle traffic lessened and shook hands with another gentleman.
Mildred squeezed past Caroline. “Will we see you at lunch?”
“I have a quilt I need to start working on.”
Mildred looked past Caroline to where Rodney stood conversing. Her smile turned sly. “Okay, I’d better get to my meeting. You have a good week.”
Suddenly, Caroline felt awkward and conspicuous. Not because Mildred might be onto her, but because she didn’t know what to do now. Should she wait for Rodney? She wanted to. Should she move along with the crowd? Her nervousness kicked in old habits. She scanned each exit to plan her escape route. The best prospect, the side door, required her to reenter the pew and exit from the other side. She tried to step back into the pew without drawing Rodney’s attention away from his conversation.
“Caroline, are you ready?” Rodney’s deep voice stopped her departure plan.
“Whenever you are.” She smiled as she watched him end his conversation and shake hands.
“Thanks for saving me back there,” Rodney said as he removed his coat from the rack in the narthex. “I’m glad he’s feeling better, but hearing the details of his heart surgery is not my idea of conversation.”
A laugh bubbled out of Caroline. “Do you have a weak stomach?”
“It’s not that.” Rodney rubbed the upper part of his chest. “It’s—”
“Snowing!” Caroline had turned toward the glass entry doors.
Rodney zipped his coat. “Guess this wasn’t a good day to walk to church.”
“You walked to church?”
Rodney nodded.
“Ten blocks?”
“At eight fifteen this morning, it was thirty-eight degrees.” Rodney held up a face warmer and his gloves. “I dressed warm.” He pushed through the door and held it for Caroline.
Dakota Love Page 7
