Bethany shaded her eyes with her hand, looked up at him and settled on a simple, “Why?”
“Why what?”
She could tell from the way his brow wrinkled that he was confused and she hoped that that was all that was bothering him. “Why ask me in the first place? I mean, you and I haven’t had a lot to do with each other for the past year.”
“You were away at college,” he said flatly.
“Only as far as Manhattan. I came home every day and on the weekends.”
“Did you? I hadn’t noticed.”
Blushing, she decided to let herself say what she was thinking—at least in part. “Fine thing. Makes me feel invisible.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He continued to stroll with her toward the big Community Church building.
Bethany kept pace by taking two steps for every one of his longer strides. What she yearned to do was insist on further explanation, but in her heart of hearts she feared she would not like what she heard. Since he had already denied comparing her to her sister, what else could she say? It was evident, at least to her, that that was exactly what the man had been doing, even if he failed to realize it.
The three-story, white-painted Community Church sat at the east end of Main Street, on a low hill next to the High Plains River. The edifice dated back to the mid-1800s and was the focal point of much of the town’s history. It, and the old town hall building nearby, was part of the heritage that so many current residents shared, even if they were not direct descendants of the Logan or Garrison families who had originally settled the area.
The row of temporary booths and vendors ended where the church lawn began. It was there that the ladies’ society had set up their outdoor kitchen. The pastor, Michael Garrison, was greeting everyone and passing their orders to the cooks.
Bethany saw his eyebrows arch as she and Stan approached. Little wonder, she thought, since she had poured out her heart to the pastor after her sister had jilted Stan so cruelly.
“Afternoon, folks,” Michael said with a grin. “What’ll it be?”
Bethany’s quick wit made her think, everlasting love and marriage. She said, “A burger with the works, please.”
“Same for me,” Stan echoed as he got out his wallet.
All she could do was stare and grin and give thanks that he could not read what was really going on in her active imagination. It was bad enough that she knew.
Chapter Six
Sighing unobtrusively, Stan carried a tray with their food to one of the picnic tables that had been set up under the shady cottonwoods between the church and the river.
Bethany followed with their drinks and chose to sit across the table rather than beside him. He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. Either way he’d have to pay closer attention to her than was comfortable for him.
She swung her slim, jeans-clad legs over the bench and met his gaze. “Isn’t this a beautiful day? I was afraid it might rain and ruin the fireworks show tonight, but so far, so good.”
“Yeah. I’m glad, too. Although I wouldn’t mind a little rain on the prairie grass on the other side of the river. Every once in a while we have a wayward spark land over there and start a spot fire.”
“I forgot about that. Do you have duty tonight?”
He nodded. “Yes. I’m stationed on an engine across the river. We’ll crew a couple other units here in town while the show goes on, too. May as well be ready if there’s trouble.”
“I really admire what you do,” she said, taking a bite of her burger after bowing her head over it for a moment.
“Thanks. I see it more as a calling than a job.”
“I know. I wish working in the bank felt like that to me. There’s nothing very noble about passing out money.”
“I suppose not, unless you were to give out samples to the needy,” he said with a chuckle.
“Oh, that would be nice. I can see the headline now—Local Bank Employee Arrested for Giveaways.” She laughed. “I don’t think my boss would approve.”
“Probably not.” Pausing, he ate a bite, then took a drink before continuing. “You could join the Fire Department Auxiliary. They do a lot of community service.”
“Like what?”
“Well, they collect food and supplies for victims. And they make up these cute teddy bears to give to children who are involved in accidents or fires.”
“Hmm. That sounds like a worthy cause.”
“It is.”
He decided to keep to himself the fact that he often spoke to the auxiliary and also taught classes in CPR. Here he sat, trying to think of ways to avoid Bethany in the future, and he had just invited her to become part of another segment of his life. What was wrong with him? He supposed he could back off those volunteer duties if she did decide to participate, but that didn’t seem right, either.
Changing the subject, he asked, “How are your folks doing in Florida?”
“Fine. Dad plays golf all the time and Mom has gotten involved in a book club at the senior center in their neighborhood.” She glanced at the children running and playing nearby. “They sound like kids at a picnic when I phone them.”
“That’s good.”
“Aren’t you going to ask about my sister?”
“I wasn’t, no,” Stan said with a scowl.
“You should.”
“Because she’s never going to disappear from my life and you need to know that she’s miserable. At least I think she is. Oh, she puts on a big, important front and brags about her success, but I don’t believe a word of it. I can tell how she really feels.”
“I’m not interested.”
He felt about an inch tall when Bethany reached across the table, lightly patted his hand and said, “I don’t believe you, either.”
Chapter Seven
Bethany could have kicked herself. The expression on her companion’s face was unreadable, yet she knew without a doubt that her outspokenness had hurt him.
Well, everything she’d said was true, she argued. Then again, many unhappy things were. That didn’t give her the right to bring them up or be so brutally honest. Stan had not asked for that kind of open dialogue and she had overstepped the bounds of their tenuous relationship.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I had no call to judge you that way.”
He shrugged. “You’re probably right—in both instances.”
“That doesn’t excuse it,” she replied. The bright sun was not the main reason why she was having trouble seeing through unshed tears but she tried to blame it anyway, as she dashed them away. “Whew! I could use a little more shade.”
“Right. You don’t want to burn.”
“I never do,” Bethany said. “It was my sister who was always worried about getting freckles.” Sobering and staring over at him, she shook her head. “You know, you and I are never going to be able to have a conversation without mentioning her once in a while. It’s inevitable. The more I try to keep from talking about her, the more she comes up.”
“I know what you mean.”
“You do, don’t you? It must be awful for you, living here and always running into people who remember how close you two once were.”
“I really don’t want to discuss it,” Stan said.
“I know. I don’t, either. But think about it for a minute. Please? Maybe, if we hash it all out, we can put it behind us and not be so tense all the time.”
“I’m not tense.”
Bethany covered her mouth but a giggle erupted just the same. “Oh, right. You get this look on your face like you just sucked on a sour lemon every time the subject of Amy comes up.”
“Isn’t there a saying that if life gives you lemons you should make lemonade?”
“Yes. All you need to do is add lots of sugar.”
“I’ve tried,” he admitted ruefully. “I really have.”
She sobered. “I know you have. I have, too. But there’s still this place in my heart that can’t help being so ma
d at her I could scream.” The moment those words were spoken she saw his countenance change. It was as if he were both pleasantly surprised and shocked.
“No way,” he drawled, frowning and staring at her.
“Yes, way. Did you think that just because I’m a Christian I never get angry? Please. Don’t imagine that I’m some kind of modern-day saint. I was so furious when Amy dumped you I could have smacked her. If I’d had the chance, I might have actually done it, too.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.” She began to smile again. “Some loving sister I am, huh?”
“Sounds to me like you’d make a loyal friend.”
A grin split her face and her cheeks flamed. “That, Mr. Ellison, is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Chapter Eight
Stan couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry or run. He chose “none of the above” and simply stared at her. She was right, in a strange way. They had once considered each other friends. And after he and Amy had fallen in love, poor Bethany had kind of been shoved aside.
“We did have some fun in the old days, didn’t we?” he remarked.
Laughing lightly, she nodded. “Yes. Only I hate to refer to last year as the old days. It makes us sound ancient.”
“There are times when I feel as though I’ve lived a hundred years.”
“And you looked it, too, for a while,” Bethany quipped. “I must say you look much better lately. I think you’re going to live.”
That made him smile. “Thanks. I agree.”
“Good, because I’ve missed you.”
“You have? How?” He figured she’d mention not seeing him in church or at the high school football and basketball games. He never dreamed she’d take the innocent question personally.
“Days like this,” she said wistfully, sighing and gazing at the placid river as it flowed beneath the two-lane bridge. “We used to have so much fun just hanging out and talking.”
“I don’t know what we’d talk about these days,” Stan countered. “Except you-know-who. And I think we’ve already exhausted that subject, don’t you?”
“I suppose so. No use beating a dead horse, as my granny used to say.”
“Speaking of horses, do you still ride?”
“Not often.” She smiled at him. “I think the last time I was on a horse was the time one ran away with me on the church youth trail ride out at the Circle L ranch. You rescued me. Remember?”
“Yes. And I wasn’t even wearing a white hat.”
“You were still my hero,” Bethany said softly. “You still are. Every time I hear the fire siren go off I pray for your safety.”
“Really?” Stan was touched.
“Yes, really. Oh, not only for you, of course, but you’re always the first one who comes to mind.”
“Thanks. We can always use prayer. The job is mostly boredom punctuated with sheer terror. We never know what we’ll find when we arrive on the scene.”
“At least High Plains has escaped the kind of terrible tornados that hit Manhattan last year. I couldn’t believe all the damage. It’s a wonder more folks weren’t hurt or killed.”
“I know.” He glanced up at the clear Kansas sky. “This is a beautiful place to live except for the storms we sometimes get. I suppose there’s no place that’s totally free of drawbacks.”
“I suppose not. I do wonder, though, how people who lose everything manage to cope. I suppose the strong sense of belonging helps. This community is like one big family.”
“Yeah,” Stan agreed, chuckling. “It has just as many odd relatives as most families do, too. Take you and me, for instance.”
Bethany arched her brows. “Oh, yeah? Speak for yourself, mister. I am as ordinary as apple pie.”
“And as sweet as the ice cream on the top,” he said.
“But not nearly as chilly, I hope.” She blushed and averted her gaze.
“No,” Stan said as he reached for her hand and touched it briefly. “You’re one of the warmest-hearted people I’ve ever known.”
To his astonishment, she pulled away, got to her feet and said, “I should be going. Thanks for lunch,” and abruptly walked away.
As he began to gather up their trash and carry it to a nearby receptacle, he wondered what had spurred her to act so unexpectedly. He couldn’t recall saying anything offensive.
Puzzled, he started for the fire department to ready his gear for the evening’s duty. For once, it was Bethany who haunted his thoughts rather than her sister.
Chapter Nine
The tingle of Stan’s warm, gentle touch lingered on Bethany’s hand and in her mind the rest of the long day.
She hadn’t known how to react when he had so innocently complimented her and patted her hand. The action had come as such a surprise her only instinct had been to flee. It was one thing to daydream about receiving affection from her sister’s former beau but quite another to actually have it happen.
He hadn’t meant anything by it, she kept telling herself. After all, they had barely spoken for a year—until this morning when fate had thrown them together.
More likely, God had been in the details rather than fate, she reasoned, which didn’t help calm her one bit. She had prayed and prayed for a reconciliation with Stan and it had come, so what was she so afraid of?
When wandering among the booths and greeting friends had grown tiresome, she’d headed for her apartment on Third Street. The neighborhood was peaceful as always. It was she who was a ball of nerves.
She was almost to her own building when a small, wiry boy raced by on a pint-size bicycle. He came so close to hitting her she had to step off the sidewalk. As she did so, she lost her balance and ended up sitting on the grass verge with an “Ouch!” and a thud.
The freckle-faced boy spun the bike in a circle and returned. “Sorry, lady.”
“It’s okay.” Bethany was dusting off her hands and mentally checking to see if she really was all right when a black-and-white dog galloped up, planted its front feet on her lap and gave her cheek a slurp.
“Charlie, down!” the boy yelled.
Laughing, Bethany held the eager dog away. “He is down. And so am I. That’s the problem.” She was ruffling the dog’s fur and pushing him off at the same time. “Hello, Charlie. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Tommy Jacobs. Charlie’s my dog,” the child announced proudly.
Her brow knit as she got to her feet. “Jacobs? I don’t place that name. Did your family just move here?”
“No.” He made a face. “I don’t got a family. I’m an orphan.”
“Oh. Then you must be living with Brandon and Beth Otis. They said they were getting a new foster child.”
“I ain’t stayin’. Not if they won’t let Charlie sleep with me,” Tommy declared.
“It would probably help if you washed him before you asked to bring him inside,” Bethany said. “How long has it been since he had a bath?”
“I dunno.”
The idea that struck her next was so absurd she almost dismissed it. Then, she realized that this was a chance to do some good within the community, exactly the way she had insisted she wanted to.
“Tell you what,” Bethany said with a smile. “I live right up the street and I have the perfect place where you and I can give Charlie a bath. What do you say? Will you let me help get him clean enough to sleep inside?”
“He won’t stay that way. He loves mud.” The boy giggled. “So do I.”
“Well, at least he’ll be pretty fresh today. It doesn’t look like it’s going to rain anytime soon and we can dry him with a hair dryer.”
“Why do you want to help?”
“Because,” she said. “Just because.”
That simple explanation seemed to sit well with the boy because he nodded and put one foot on the pedal of his bike, getting ready to ride. “Okay. But if Charlie doesn’t like the bath he doesn’t have to stay.”
“It’s a deal,” Bethany agreed. “I’
ll wash, you rinse, and we’ll be done in two shakes of Charlie’s tail.”
Besides, she added to herself, if she was fussing with a soapy dog and a little boy, she’d have less time to spend thinking about Stan and wishing that she had let him continue to touch her hand. After the way she’d acted, chances were good that he’d never try again.
Chapter Ten
The Independence Day engine crew consisted of Stan and two volunteers without much practical experience. Both younger men were trained in first aid but had not yet finished their studies in firefighting.
He briefed them before sundown, then stationed one at each end of the engine. “Your only job is to watch for sparks and let me know. The sooner we can have water on the hot spots, the less chance of it getting away from us.”
“I thought they were gonna shoot the shells over the water,” one of the rookies said.
“They are. But you never know when one might go astray. Just keep your eyes open and pray nothing lands on those spectators across the river.”
“Yessir.”
Thinking of the people already gathering on the church lawn and in the town park by the gazebo, Stan immediately pictured Bethany. She’d be there, of course. She’d always loved watching the fireworks. They all had, although Amy had usually wound up complaining that the show was lasting too long. Bethany, on the other hand, had greeted each colorful explosion with a squeal of joy or a similar expression of delight.
He remembered their last 4th of July together. Several couples and other twentysomething singles had gathered as a group to watch the show. He had already begun to wonder why Amy was acting so strange, but she hadn’t yet informed him that she was leaving High Plains, for good, less than a week later.
“It’s getting chilly and the mosquitoes are eating me alive,” Amy had complained. “I want to go home.”
Stan had taken off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, barely noticing that Bethany, too, was probably cold. The way she’d been jumping around and cheering, however, she’d undoubtedly been warmer than her sister.
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