Lambert's Pride

by Coleman, Lynn A.

  Elizabeth wiped her mouth with the edge of her napkin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The waitress brought the check, and Kavan signed. Elizabeth had already noted he was a southpaw and watched as he signed his name on the debit card receipt with a flurry and a flare.

  “Nice signature, Kavan,” she said, peering over the pile of plates and used napkins. “Think your K is big enough?” She glanced up at him, winked, and laughed. “It’s unique, I’ll give you that!”

  “Do you want to pay for dinner?” He raised a brow at her.

  “I might.” She lifted her chin to accept the challenge.

  He chuckled and reached for his cane, anchored in the corner of the booth. “That’s it. We’re out of here.”

  To her surprise, Elizabeth let him take her by the arm and lead her toward the door.

  ❧

  Driving toward the Lamberts’ home on the hill, Kavan tried not to process the events of the evening too much. But unless he missed his guess, Elizabeth was having a good time. She gripped his heart each time he was with her.

  “Sorry I started out the evening so moody,” she said.

  He reached over and touched her arm tenderly. “Don’t worry. I understand. Hang in there; you’ll hear from those grad schools.”

  “I know, but time is passing and I’m getting anxious.”

  “I bet you’ll hear something by the end of the week.”

  She smiled at him. He wanted to capture her light and bottle it. On bad days, he could pour himself a cup.

  “Your optimism is infectious. And you’re right; I’ll hear soon.”

  The White Birch covered bridge came into view. Kavan pulled off and asked Elizabeth if she’d like to go for a walk.

  “I’d love to if your knee isn’t too sore.”

  “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

  She stepped out of the passenger side of the truck into the full light of the moon.

  Kavan fished his flashlight out of the glove box and came alongside Elizabeth. He tucked the flashlight under his arm, leaning on his cane as they walked. Without contemplation, he reached for Elizabeth’s hand, glancing sideways at her to catch her reaction. She walked steadily forward, her hand resting in his.

  They walked in silence, the night resonating with the sound of their heels and the tap of his cane against the broad boards of the bridge floor.

  “It’s so peaceful here.” A contented sigh escaped Elizabeth’s lips.

  “Great place to pray because it’s so peaceful,” Kavan added. He released Elizabeth’s hand and moved to the middle of the bridge. Moonlight streamed through the small side windows, but he clicked on his flashlight nevertheless. “When we were kids, we liked to climb into the rafters.” He moved the light beam up along the heavy support planks.

  “Look at all the initials.” Elizabeth stared up, turning in a slow circle. “There must be hundreds of them.”

  “Your grandparents’ initials are in here somewhere.” Kavan stepped toward the left end of the bridge. “Your grandpa showed me once, but I can’t. . . Ah, here it is.”

  Elizabeth hurried over to where Kavan stood. At the end of his light she read, “ML loves BC 1940.”

  “Used to be all the engaged couples came here and carved their initials.” Kavan took a step back and bumped right into Elizabeth. When he turned to apologize, her face was only inches from his. His heart thundered, and he swallowed hard, finding it difficult to breathe. Kiss her, his heart shouted. She was gazing at him.

  “Well, it’s late,” he choked out after a moment. “I’d better get you home.” He took one giant step back. Kiss her? he argued internally. How can I kiss her? This isn’t even supposed to be a date.

  “Right,” she answered in a hushed tone. “I have to work tomorrow.”

  “Me, too.”

  His legs trembled slightly as he escorted Elizabeth to the truck, a passionate tension wafting in the air between them. The debate over whether he should have kissed her raged on in his mind.

  At the Lamberts’ door, he grasped her hand and shook it good night. “I had a great time. You’re a fun pizza partner.”

  She stepped toward him. “I had a great time, too.”

  The moment lingered, and Kavan could feel a light sweat beading on his forehead. “Good night, Elizabeth.”

  He stepped back so quickly, he stumbled down the front porch steps.

  “Kavan!”

  “I’m all right, I’m all right,” he shouted, getting his balance and hustling to his truck.

  “Are you sure?” she called.

  The melodious sound of her voice lingered in his ears as he headed toward home.

  ❧

  Inside, Elizabeth leaned against the front door. Grandma called from the family room. “That you, Bethy?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Did you have a nice time?”

  Lovely. “Yes.”

  Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Elizabeth hurried quietly up the front stairs. In her room, she shut the door and flopped onto her bed.

  He almost kissed me!

  Seven

  The next morning, Elizabeth hurried down to breakfast. She’d overslept, forgetting to set her alarm the night before. The smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee teased her senses before she entered the kitchen.

  Grandpa peered at her over the top of his paper. “Must have been some date. . .”

  Elizabeth halted him with a flash of her palm. “It was not a date, Grandpa.”

  “I see.” He snapped the paper open again and retreated behind the front page.

  “Grandpa,” she started with a sigh, “I didn’t mean to be sharp with you. I forgot to set my alarm, so I’m running late.”

  He set the paper aside. “Bethy, did you have a nice time?”

  She fumbled around the kitchen, looking for her favorite glass. “Yes.”

  Grandma came into the kitchen. “Your glass is in the dishwasher. I ran it last night.”

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth retrieved the tall, wide-mouth glass, filled it with ice, and popped open a diet soda.

  “That’s all I wanted to know,” Grandpa said. “Having a good time is half the battle for you.”

  “I know how to have a good time.” Elizabeth pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.

  Grandpa chuckled and sat back, scratching his head. “I suppose you do. You just seem so opposed to it.”

  Grandma set a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. “Oh, Grandma, I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat,” the older woman ordered. “You’re not leaving my kitchen with diet soda as your breakfast.”

  The smell of hot buttered toast stirred Elizabeth’s appetite. Her stomach grumbled. She reached for her fork and knife. Grandpa passed her the black raspberry jelly.

  “I’m not opposed to a good time, Grandpa,” Elizabeth said after swallowing a bite of her eggs. “I am merely cautious of my emotional energy.”

  Grandpa uttered a low harrumph. “I suppose the Allied forces of World War Two couldn’t stop that stubborn pride of yours.”

  Elizabeth spread an even layer of jelly on her second piece of toast. “Stubborn pride? And where do you suppose I get it?” There was a tender admiration in her question.

  Before Grandpa could answer, Grandma brought her own plate to the table and interrupted. “All right, you two. Stop. Matt, leave the girl be.” She turned to her granddaughter. “You know we’re both very proud of you. You’re a joy to us.”

  “Thank you, Grandma.”

  Grandpa sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s right, Kitten. I just hate to see you all wound up with this grad school notion.”

  Elizabeth smiled at him, deciding more debate was pointless. She may resist the Lamberts’ constant intrusion, but she couldn’t ask for more love and support than her grandparents gave her. They tolerated what they didn’t understand, loved amid difficulty.

  “Why don’t you tell us about your dinner with Kavan,” Gran
dma prompted. “No comments from you, Grandpa.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Not a word. Not a word. The floor is yours, Bethy.”

  She glanced at her watch. “Okay, here’s the five-minute version.” Quickly, Elizabeth recapped her evening, giving them the details, devoid of any emotion. She omitted the intimate moment on the bridge entirely. Unsure of what really transpired between them in that instant when they were face-to-face and eye-to-eye, she was sure she could not describe it to her grandparents. Besides, the moment felt private, only for her.

  “Well, good,” Grandpa said when she finished. He picked up the morning paper again.

  “Sounds lovely,” Grandma chimed in.

  On her way to Lambert’s Furniture, Elizabeth’s thoughts remained caught on the covered bridge moment with Kavan. Did he want to kiss her? Did she want him to kiss her? She shuddered with realization.

  As she pulled into the parking lot and made her way to her office, Elizabeth resolved to stop thinking of Kavan Donovan and his possible kisses.

  Focus, Elizabeth, focus. Your goal is grad school. Not to marry the first guy who comes along.

  ❧

  Kavan sat on his back porch, sipping coffee and watching the summer mist dissipate over the White Mountains. Fred and Ginger lay at his feet. Content and peaceful, he conversed with his heavenly Father.

  He woke up thinking of Elizabeth, and it concerned him some. “Lord, I don’t want to get ahead of You. Clearly, Elizabeth is not ready for a serious relationship, let alone marriage. If she is not for me, let me know.”

  He paused, listening, waiting for the Lord to respond. He did, but not about Elizabeth. Instead, he sensed the Lord warning him about the workday ahead.

  More trouble.

  Kavan spent the next twenty minutes praying for his boss and the situation between them. He went to work with a sense of God’s favor and justice but with no clue as to what events would unfold during the day.

  “Morning, Kavan,” Cheryl said, batting her heavy black lashes. She smiled at him in a way that made him uncomfortable and wonder what she was thinking. “Travis wants to see you.”

  Kavan sighed and dropped his canvas bag onto his desk. Taking a deep breath, he limped toward Travis’s office.

  “Come in,” the director bellowed at Kavan’s light knock.

  Kavan planted a smile on his face and stepped inside. “Good morning.”

  The large man stood. “We have to figure out how to solve this problem.”

  Exasperated, Kavan asked, “What problem, Travis?” He eased into a chair.

  “Since our last discussion, nothing’s changed. Your fire tower renovation is still way over budget.”

  Kavan clenched his jaw and consciously tried not to grind his teeth. “Travis, I haven’t been working on the renovation. There are no expenses.”

  Travis tossed the accounting notice to him. “Can you explain this?”

  Kavan picked up the paper. “This report has no details. It’s just a summary. I can tell you my accounting shows the project in the black.” He tossed the paper back onto the desk.

  “The State of New Hampshire shows you’re in the red.” His tone challenged Kavan.

  Kavan folded his hands on the curved head of the cane and leaned forward, extending his own challenge. “How long have you known me?”

  Travis shrugged. “Since you were a kid.”

  “Do you really think I would steal from the division?”

  “People change, Kavan.”

  “I haven’t changed, Travis. I am not the reason the refurbishment budget is overdrawn.”

  For a moment, Kavan believed he could actually cut the tension with a knife. Lord, give me wisdom. “You’re free to look at my records, Travis.”

  The man shook his head. “Won’t do any good. Accounting can just say you doctored your records.”

  “I have copies of orders and receipts.” Kavan held his tongue from declaring this whole thing an outrage.

  “Whatever it is you’re doing, end it now, Donovan. I don’t want to see you in trouble.”

  Kavan left the office without being dismissed. Anger brewed in his chest. How could Travis believe he was stealing?

  He booted up his computer and launched the fire tower refurbishment accounting program. To his anguish, the program came up with an application error. He double-clicked on the program shortcut to launch it again, but it crashed.

  He pursed his lips and pounded the palm of his hand against his desk. Backups. . . I have a backup at home.

  He grabbed his gear and started for the door.

  “See ya, Kavan,” Cheryl called after him.

  At home, Kavan found his records were several months behind, but in order, showing his project to be in the black. A few purchases were not logged in the spreadsheet, but all copies of the project’s orders and receipts were saved in a file at the office.

  For a few moments, Kavan sat mulling over his next action. Fred and Ginger whined at the door, asking to be let in. Still lost in thought, Kavan got up and opened the door for them.

  How do I handle this, Lord?

  Oddly, Kavan sensed he wasn’t to do anything. He had to let the Lord defend him. For a moment, the idea went against every instinct in his body, but the Lord would handle the situation righteously and justly.

  “My reputation is on the line, Father,” Kavan prayed. “But I trust You.” He’d keep his records in order and updated. When Travis called for them, he’d be ready.

  Driving back to the office, Kavan finally rested in the peace of the Lord. Thoughts of Elizabeth drifted across his mind for the first time since the confrontation with Travis.

  Ironic, he thought. This morning, she was the first person he thought of when he woke up. Now, after the ordeal with Travis, their pizza dinner and walk on the bridge felt like a distant memory.

  ❧

  “You’re crazy not to fall for him,” Joann told her over a large garden salad at the diner.

  “Why do I have to fall for him? For anyone?” Elizabeth stabbed a large tomato wedge with her fork.

  “I’m not saying you do, but Kavan Donovan is not one to let go.”

  For the rest of lunch, Elizabeth steered the conversation away from the topic of love and Kavan. She whispered a prayer of thanks when Joann let the subject drop.

  After lunch, a pile of invoices and corresponding purchase orders covered Elizabeth’s desk. She’d managed to put Kavan out of her mind during her morning routine—but not since her impromptu lunch with Joann. Facing an afternoon of mundane work, she found herself daydreaming about the handsome ranger. Joann was right. He was a great guy: kind and caring, funny, smart, and good-looking.

  He would be a wonderful husband and, I bet, a good father. But I’m not looking for a husband or a father for my children! She scooted up to her desk and reached for the invoices.

  After updating several accounts, Elizabeth came across another expensive purchase order from the Division of Forests and Lands for one hundred board foot of teak.

  Kavan’s name sat boldly across the header of the invoice. On the purchase order, his signature graced the bottom line.

  She reached for the phone and called Grant Hansen again. “Hi, Mr. Hansen, it’s me.”

  “What can I do for you, Bethy?”

  “Would the forestry division order teak?”

  He chuckled softly. “No, no.”

  Elizabeth scanned the order. “It says it’s for the fire tower refurbishment.”

  “Oh no, Honey. The fire tower would be finished with pine or oak.”

  Elizabeth could feel her heart sinking. What was Kavan doing buying teak? “Thank you, Mr. Hansen,” she said low and unsure.

  Driving to Sinclair’s that night, Elizabeth could not stop thinking about the order in Kavan’s name. Could he be a fraud? Perhaps he’s not the man everyone believes him to be.

  Joann caught her as she entered the store. “Hey, your man is in here.”

  Elizab
eth froze. “What?”

  “I said your man is in the store.” Joann linked her arm through Elizabeth’s and steered her toward the time clock. “Clock in. I need you at the front desk.”

  “No, I can’t see him.”

  “Who? Your man?”

  With force, Elizabeth said, “Would you stop saying that? He’s not my man.”

  Joann reared back. “Don’t get testy. So, he’s not your man.”

  Elizabeth clocked in, then grabbed her friend by the arms. “Joann, I don’t want to see Kavan right now. This whole ordeal is ridiculous. I’m not becoming involved. I’m going to school in two months.”

  Resolve pursed Joann’s lips. “All right, Elizabeth. I hear you.”

  “No more Kavan. No more love talk. No more romance.”

  Joann reached out and smoothed Elizabeth’s curls. “Why don’t you work back stock for awhile. Millie can help at the front desk.”

  With a sigh of relief, Elizabeth hugged her boss. “Call me when he’s gone.”

  From over her shoulder, Kavan’s mellow baritone filled her ears. “Hi, Elizabeth.”

  Eight

  Elizabeth whipped around. “Hi. . .Kavan.”

  “I’ll see you later.” Joann retreated.

  “Long workday?” Kavan asked, pushing his cart out of the way so another customer could get by.

  “I’m used to it.” She avoided direct eye contact.

  “Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” Kavan’s eyes searched her face.

  She leaned her shoulder against the wall and fidgeted with the pen dangling from a string by the time clock. In the distance, she heard the cry of a small child. Finally, she looked at Kavan. “I don’t want last night to mean more than it should.” There, she said it.

  “Pizza and a walk on the covered bridge. Don’t see how any deep thing could be derived from that experience.”

  “Oh, you know this town, my family. . . Romance is all they think about.”

  Kavan shook his head. “Believe me, not everyone in this town is fascinated with romance. You can ask your police officer cousin about that.”

  “All right, but where I’m concerned, everyone is fascinated with romance. Trying to marry me off.”

  Kavan took a step back. “Have you been asked?”