She stood too and returned his firm grip. “It’s hard to say no to Reverend Howard.”
“Likewise for Father Joe.” He released her hand. “We’ll have to employ their persuasive skills in our fundraising efforts.”
The hint of a grin tickled her lips. “True. Few people are more proficient at asking for money than the clergy.”
Eyes glinting with amusement, he pulled a small notebook and pen from his jacket pocket, then bent down and jotted a number with bold strokes. A faint whiff of his appealing, rugged aftershave teased her nose, and she gripped the back of her chair, fighting the temptation to lean closer.
He tore the small sheet of paper from the notebook and handed it to her. “That’s my cell number. Why don’t you call me when you’re ready to continue our discussion?”
His lean fingers brushed hers, and her heart skipped a beat.
Oh, for pity’s sake.
“Kelsey?”
At his concerned query, she hiked up the corners of her lips. “Yes. I’ll, uh, do that.”
He pocketed his notebook and pen. “Talk to you soon.”
With that, he strode toward the front door and disappeared to the accompaniment of a cheery jingle.
Kelsey groped for the edge of the table and sank into the chair she’d vacated, trying to get her pulse under control.
This was not good.
For the past seven months she’d coped with mild panic attacks in the presence of powerful men. She was used to the shakiness. The feeling of being off balance. The adrenaline surge.
Today’s reaction, however, hadn’t been caused by fear—but by an equally unsettling emotion.
Attraction.
Slowly she exhaled. No doubt Dr. Walters would call this progress and be pleased. But Kelsey wasn’t. Because the man in question was here for a brief visit on a mission that did not include romance.
She rose. Steadied herself on the edge of the table. Ran a finger over the soft fabric that covered the scar on her shoulder.
Letting this flicker of attraction get out of hand would be dangerous. It could lead to scars of a different kind.
And she’d already had enough trauma to last a lifetime.
4
Luke paused at the top of the long flight of stairs that led to the lake. Tonight, he would finally watch a sunset from the beach. Based on the position of the yellow orb, he still had an hour before it hit the horizon—which meant he’d have ample opportunity to eat the sandwich and chips he’d picked up in Saugatuck after his productive meeting with Dennis Lawson, the manager of the hotel where Carlos had worked during his high school years.
He drew in a lungful of fresh air, letting the stillness of Pier Cove seep into his pores and infiltrate a soul parched for the peace and quiet that had been rare commodities in his prior life.
And they were his number-one priority for tonight.
Hoisting his beach chair to his shoulder, he started down the steep flight, juggling a cardboard tray containing a cup of coffee and a white deli bag in one hand while keeping a tight grip on the railing with the other.
His schedule today may have been a cakewalk compared to the grueling pace and intensity of battlefield medicine, but he was beat. Too much stress over an extended period could do that to a person—but baring his soul beyond his comfort zone in today’s meetings was also partly to blame. He should have expected that Dennis, as well as the mayor and the owner of the land the youth program hoped to buy, would all press for details about his experiences with Carlos.
And his encounter with his neighbor this morning hadn’t helped his stress level, either. At least the initial tension had abated during their tête-à-tête over tea. But she was one inscrutable woman.
Halfway down, Luke paused on the landing to readjust his chair and replay a few of her puzzling comments. Like the one about him knowing what he needed and where he was heading. Had that reflected envy—or resentment? And what had the remark about being battle-scarred meant? Was it related to the physical scar near her collarbone—or was she referring to emotional trauma?
Mashing his lips together, he continued to the bottom and pushed through the chest-high beach grass toward the open strip of sand. He was not going to let thoughts of his enigmatic neighbor ruin his evening. Whatever her problems, he had more pressing matters to—
His step faltered as he emerged from the grass.
The mystery woman was seated twenty feet away on the beach.
Blast.
Expelling a lungful of air, he sized up the situation. She’d chosen a spot a little to the right of the position she’d occupied on Saturday, angled away from the path. Like him, she was dressed in jeans. A loose fitting knit top disguised her pregnancy, and a jacket rested on the sand beside her, as did an insulated mug with a lid. She was hatless tonight, and the wind ruffled her silky blond hair as she jotted on a pad of paper in her lap.
In the far distance, a family group was gathered around a bonfire. But she seemed as oblivious to their presence as she was to his.
If he was lucky, she’d stay that way.
Skirting the beach grass, he worked his way down the sand in the other direction, to the edge of the property line. While he opened his chair, sat, and pulled his sandwich from the white bag, he kept watch on his neighbor. If fate was kind, she wouldn’t notice him until she was ready to leave.
Unfortunately, lady luck didn’t smile on him. As he started on the second half of his turkey sandwich, she turned his direction.
Froze.
Luke stopped chewing, and as the manners his mother had instilled in him kicked in he raised a hand in greeting.
Several beats passed.
Maybe, if she ignored him, he could watch the sunset in peace.
Instead, much to his surprise, she not only returned his wave, she called out to him. Although he strained to hear her words, the wind tossed them the other way, rendering them inaudible. Pointing to his ear, he shook his head.
She flipped her hand, as if to say forget it, and went back to her notepad.
Excellent. A reprieve.
He took another bite of his sandwich. Tried to fix his attention on the horizon.
But his gaze kept straying back to his neighbor.
There was something poignant and lonely about the solitary woman on the long stretch of windswept beach. The solitary pregnant woman. Poignant enough to prod him to his feet and push him toward her. Even if the selfish part of him said he deserved some time alone, he couldn’t ignore her.
He called out as he approached so she wouldn’t be startled this go-round. “The wind’s blowing the wrong direction. I couldn’t hear what you said a minute ago.”
As she angled toward him, the setting sun cast a golden glow over her complexion, gilding the ends of her long lashes and highlighting her model-quality cheekbones. The effect was mesmerizing.
“It wasn’t important enough to interrupt your dinner.” She indicated the half sandwich in his hand.
He shrugged. “Not much to interrupt.”
“I only said it was a beautiful evening—and that we should be in for a spectacular sunset.”
He watched her lips as she spoke. They were full and soft and—
Enough.
Luke jerked his head toward the horizon. Tried to concentrate on the clouds massing in the distance.
But the magnetic pull of the woman a few feet away was difficult to ignore.
How weird was that?
Fisting his free hand on his hip, he frowned at the view, trying to make sense of his reaction. He hardly knew Kelsey Anderson. Nor did his neighbor seem interested in changing that situation. Plus, the woman was pregnant. Maybe married. And she had baggage. Lots of it, unless his instincts were off.
There could be only one explanation for the unexpected tingle of attraction he’d just felt.
It had been way too long since he’d had a real date.
What else could it be?
She stirred beside him—no
doubt wondering why he hadn’t responded to her comment.
Say something, Turner.
“Yeah. I’ve been looking forward to my first sunset on the beach.”
He pasted on a smile and forced himself to turn back to her—just as the capricious wind snatched a loose sheet of paper off her lap.
Luke took off after it, snagging it as it somersaulted down the beach. Sandwich still in one hand, he skimmed the neat, precise handwriting and the bullet-point outline Kelsey had been compiling.
A list of PR initiatives for the youth center project.
He scanned it as he retraced his steps. “You’ve been putting serious thought into this.”
She took the paper and slipped it into the middle of the tablet on her lap. “I promised you suggestions tomorrow. I’m teaching a class in the morning, so tonight was my best opportunity to work on them. Besides, I get my most creative ideas here anyway.”
He surveyed the landscape. “I can see why. And from the quick glimpse I got of your notes, it seems to have been a productive session. So what’s your number one recommendation?”
“Media interviews—if you’re willing.”
“Me?” That had not been on his radar.
“You have a great personal story to tell that will resonate with potential donors and supporters.”
“This is supposed to be about Carlos.”
“It is.” She leaned forward, her expression earnest. “And who better to tell the world about him than the man who worked alongside him on the battlefield? Who saw the transforming effect the youth fellowship had on his life. Who was so moved himself by Carlos’s dream to help other young people benefit from that same program that he took on the task of turning the young medic’s dream into reality, as a tribute to him.”
With her defenses down, her face animated with enthusiasm and passion, Kelsey Anderson was drop-dead gorgeous.
The spark of attraction flared again, and Luke clamped his teeth together.
Not part of the agenda, Turner.
“You’re very convincing.” He tried as hard as he could to pull off a businesslike tone. “If I wasn’t already spearheading this campaign, I’d be ready to sign on the dotted line.”
His praise brought a becoming flush to her cheeks, and she leaned back in her chair. “Creating buy-in and shaping public opinion was my job for many years.”
“And now you make quilts.” Why? Luke didn’t voice that question—but Kelsey had a story, and he wanted to hear it.
“And now I make quilts.” She ignored his implied query, her this-discussion-is-over tone warning him to back off.
He did. For now. Otherwise, she might change her mind about helping.
“So what other ideas have you jotted down there?” Again, he waved a hand toward the hidden sheet of paper.
She hesitated, then drew it out. “I’m not ready to talk about this in detail yet, but if you want to pull your chair over, I can give you a few highlights.”
“Done.”
As he retrieved his chair and the rest of his dinner, he didn’t bother to analyze the reason for his sudden change of heart about avoiding his neighbor. The explanation was obvious. A pretty woman plus a guy who’d gone too long without a date added up to hormones. Nothing more. And what harm could there be in enjoying the little flicker of attraction for a few minutes?
She took a sip out of her mug as he set up his chair beside her, and he motioned to it. “Is that tea?”
“No. I get more than enough of the decaf and herbal versions at the shop. This is milk.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I feel about it the way you feel about tea.”
He didn’t have to ask why she was drinking it.
“When is the baby due?” He lowered himself into his chair and stretched his legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.
“September fifteenth.” She tapped the tablet. “We should talk about this before we lose the light.”
She didn’t want to discuss the baby.
Why not?
Since that wasn’t likely a question she’d answer, Luke took the cue and did his best to switch gears. “Whenever you’re ready.”
As she laid out her recommendations, he continued eating his sandwich.
In addition to media interviews, she’d come up with a dozen other ideas to garner public support and spread the news about the project, including a fundraising dinner, speaking engagements at local organizations, and a clever way to generate positive publicity for companies who donated goods to the cause, creating a win-win scenario.
When she finished, he crumpled up his dinner wrappings and shoved them back in the bag. “All I can say is, you must have done a stellar job in the corporate world.”
Her cheeks pinkened as she slipped the sheet of paper back into the lined tablet and drained her mug. “It’s not difficult to be successful when your job is your life. But that’s not the healthiest way to live.”
“Is that why you left? To get more balance?”
She bent down and settled the mug in the sand, hiding her face from his view. “Let’s just say circumstances helped me realize I needed to realign my priorities. Spectacular sunset, isn’t it?”
Luke gave the sky a sweep. The sun had dipped to the horizon, edging the clouds with gold and tinting the sky—and the beach—pink. It was spectacular. But he was more interested in the woman beside him.
“Yeah. Spectacular.” Luke leaned back in his chair, out of her line of sight, and studied her. The setting sun continued to cast a becoming glow on her profile. But it also highlighted the faint lines at the corners of her eyes that spoke of weariness and worry. Apparently, realigning her priorities hadn’t erased either of those from her life. Why not? And what “circumstances” had convinced her to ditch the fast track in the corporate world and move to her grandmother’s cottage to make quilts? Where did the absent father of her baby fit into the picture?
The more he learned about Kelsey Anderson, the more intrigued he became.
Suddenly, as if sensing his scrutiny, she turned.
He transferred his attention to the sky at once. “I’m glad I didn’t miss this.”
“It beats anything on TV.” She tucked her tablet under her arm and swung her legs to the side of the chair. “I’d stay to the end, but navigating those steps is tricky enough when the sun is shining. It’s downright dangerous in the dark.” She sounded nervous. As if she’d once again wrapped herself in a cloak of caution.
As she struggled to extricate herself from the low-slung chair, Luke rose and held out a hand.
“You may have to switch to a regular lawn chair soon.” He kept his tone light, hoping she’d accept his help. “They’re higher off the ground.”
He waited while she considered his hand—and when she took it, he held tight until she was steady on the shifting sand.
“Thanks.” She sounded a bit winded as she tugged her fingers free and reached down to fold up her chair and snag her jacket off the sand.
As it had the day of the lightbulb incident, her top slid off her shoulder, revealing the jagged scar near her collarbone. She tugged it back into position before he could dwell on it, but the quick frown she darted his direction told him she was afraid he’d seen it—and that she was worried he’d ask more questions.
He had a host of those. But voicing them wouldn’t be smart. If he wanted to know Kelsey’s secrets, he’d have to be patient. Let her get comfortable with him. Learn she could trust him.
Unfortunately, given her extreme wariness, that could take a whole lot longer than the six weeks he’d be in Michigan.
“I’ll finish my recommendations tonight and give you a clean copy tomorrow, if that works.” She hoisted her chair onto her shoulder.
“Sure.”
She started toward the path through the grass, and he fell into step beside her. “Why don’t you let me carry that stuff up for you? It would be easy to trip in the dark, and that wouldn’t do either of you any favors.”
H
er step slowed as she surveyed the steep flight of stairs ahead. “I’ve managed fine by myself so far.”
“Maneuvering is only going to get tougher as you get bigger. As a doctor, I recommend you take whatever unsolicited help you can get. Unless you already have someone lined up to do the heavy stuff.”
It was a backdoor way to confirm the baby’s father wasn’t around—and odds were it wouldn’t work.
But much to his surprise, it did.
“My sister will come if I decide—if I need help after the baby is born.”
So the baby’s father wasn’t part of Kelsey’s life—and wouldn’t be in the future.
Was he the source of her scar? Had she been in an abusive relationship?
That notion didn’t sit well.
“In the meantime...” He motioned toward the chair.
Kelsey handed it over. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He summoned up a grin. “I may be a doctor, but I don’t want to have to treat a sprained ankle—or worse—while I’m here. Give me a sec.”
He went back for his own chair, then took her arm as they traversed the uneven sand. At the narrow path through the grass, he let her precede him, following close behind her as she slowly ascended the stairs.
“Believe it or not, I used to be…in great shape.” She huffed out the comment as they reached the top.
Despite the dim light, the flush on her cheeks was impossible to miss.
“I expect you still are. Forty steps would make anyone huff and puff.”
“They don’t seem to have taxed your lungs.”
“They would have if I’d been carrying an extra fifteen or twenty pounds.” He tapped her chair, still slung over his shoulder. “Would you like me to take this over to your porch?”
“No. Thank you.” She reached for it. “I can manage fine on flat ground. Good night.” Gripping the chair in one hand, she crossed the lawn and disappeared through the trees that separated their property.
Luke stayed where he was until the light in her kitchen flicked on through the leafy branches. Then he turned toward the fading sunset. A few minutes ago, the sky had been a glorious palette of brilliant colors, the water alive with ethereal light. Now the heavens had faded to a dull, uninteresting gray, the shimmering incandescence of the lake replaced by ominous, leaden shadows.
Child of Grace Page 4
