When I Fall in Love (Christiansen Family)

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When I Fall in Love (Christiansen Family) Page 24

by Susan May Warren


  Grace rose on her tiptoes and kissed Darek’s cheek. Patted it. “That’s why you’re the big brother.”

  He blushed a little. “Yeah, well, how do you feel about paddling?”

  “Why?”

  “Raina quit the team, and we need someone.”

  “Raina was paddling?”

  “Yeah. Casper recruited her. But she didn’t show up for practice today. Casper went to her house, but she didn’t answer the door.”

  She frowned. “I’ll have a chat with her.”

  “Better hurry. Our race is in an hour. Thanks, Sis.”

  Grace picked her way through the crowd and out to Main Street, where vendors lined the sidewalks. She walked past the cheese curd stand, the fish burgers, the kettle corn, and spied Ivy standing in line with Tiger, his hand tucked into hers.

  Now that he had a new mother, maybe he’d spend more time on Ivy’s lap than Grace’s. She should have expected that.

  She took the shortcut through the parking lot of the realty office, then cut across the street at the light. Liza lived two blocks off the highway that ran through town, in a cute two-bedroom bungalow with dormers and a wraparound porch.

  Raina’s car sat at the curb.

  Grace knocked on the front door. “Raina?” No answer, but because she was a local and she’d been inside Liza’s house more than a handful of times, she tried the door.

  It opened, and she went inside. “Liza?”

  “She’s not here!”

  The voice came from behind one of the bedroom doors.

  “Raina, what’s going on?”

  “Grace?” Footsteps accompanied the tone of surprise. They stopped at the other side of the closed door. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here because Darek is in a panic. He wants me to paddle because apparently you’ve left them with an empty space.”

  Silence.

  “Raina, are you okay?”

  More silence.

  “Okay, well, um. Do you want me to paddle for you?”

  Silence again. Then, “How was your trip?”

  It was . . . heartbreaking? Breathtaking? Life changing?

  “I learned a lot about Hawaiian food. In fact, my sister wants me to cater her wedding in six weeks.”

  “Six weeks?” The voice came closer.

  “Exactly. I have to pull off a dinner for seventy-five, and I need you. You’re my secret weapon.”

  Silence.

  “Raina, what’s going on? Can I help?”

  Grace nearly put her hand to the doorknob, but the door finally opened.

  Raina stood there, wearing a lime-green dragon boat shirt, her eyes red, swollen. At least she had team spirit. “I wish you could but . . . no one can help.”

  “Why not?”

  Raina sat on the bed. “Because God is laughing at me.”

  Grace sat beside her. “God isn’t laughing at you, Raina. What happened? You can tell me.”

  The look on Raina’s face could make Grace weep. “I think I’m pregnant.”

  Grace tried not to gasp, but the tragedy in Raina’s voice only made it worse. “Are you sure?”

  Raina pointed to three store-bought tests lined up in a row on the nightstand. Two negatives and a positive.

  “Best two out of three?”

  “I don’t think so,” Raina said softly.

  “But you don’t know for sure.” Grace took her hand, holding herself back from asking who the father was. It didn’t matter, maybe. “Honey, listen. You’re not in this alone. It’s going to be okay.” The tone in her voice made her believe it too. “I learned a lot in Hawaii—more than cooking. Mostly that once I got past the fear and past holding on to what I thought I wanted, there was more waiting for me.” She swallowed, letting the truth rise up. “I know it’s difficult to see right now, but if we trust Him, God can bring us through these dark places, through our fears and even what we think is impossible, to give us more. More of Him. Even more of ourselves, through Him. In fact, He can do more than you can ask or imagine if you let Him.”

  She let her own words sink in to nourish her, too.

  Raina looked at their hands. “I highly doubt that God is interested in helping me.” She met Grace’s eyes. “But thanks for saying that. You’re right. I can survive this.”

  “Well, I’m interested in helping you. We’re teammates.”

  Raina drew in a long breath.

  “And I know Casper is counting on you.”

  That seemed to only make her cringe.

  Grace frowned. “What—?”

  “Nothing. Yeah, I know.”

  “Good. Now, let’s get you back on that dragon boat team where you belong. Evergreen needs you.”

  Raina swallowed, looked away. “Okay.”

  Grace leaned in to embrace her. “You’re not alone,” she said again.

  But when Raina got up, the smile she gave Grace didn’t touch her eyes.

  THE DRAGON BOAT VICTORY should have filled the hole inside Casper, should have buoyed him, given him a reason to believe he could build a future here.

  Instead, it pinged around the hollow place inside him. The place where, only days ago, he’d let his affection for Raina find fertile soil.

  What had happened between them, he hadn’t any idea. One minute she was smiling into his eyes, leaning her face into the pocket of his hand, and the next, she’d left the hospital while he fetched her a vending machine tuna sandwich. He’d driven to her house, found her holed up in her room. She refused to open the door to him, and for a desperate twelve hours, he’d thought she might not even paddle in the competition. Then she’d reappeared, wearing a life jacket, holding a paddle. Except, not the Raina he knew, that he . . . that he’d started to love. He could admit he’d started to harbor hopes that maybe Raina could be the reason he stayed in Deep Haven. So what if he didn’t go back to school, didn’t pursue his archaeology dreams. Couldn’t he be like Darek and build a home here? Certainly two brothers could rebuild and run the resort.

  But that Raina had vanished, it seemed, leaving only this strange, polite, detached shell behind. Sure, she smiled like Raina, and she laughed at his jokes and urged the team to victory. But she never fully looked at him.

  Even after they placed first in their division.

  Even at the victory party.

  And especially when he offered her a ride home. Which she declined.

  He tried not to let that dig a hole in his heart. If he could just get her alone . . . but she refused to open the door to him or answer her phone.

  So for the last two weeks, he’d buried himself in finishing cabin seven. And he’d read and reread the e-mail from his buddy in Roatán, contemplating the treasure hunt.

  Maybe it was time to leave.

  Meanwhile, he hung around, hoping to catch a moment with Raina when she arrived at the resort to meet with Grace, helping her pull together the catering menu for Eden’s hurried wedding. He even devised excuses to be in the same room. Like needing a refill on his water bottle or grabbing a quick sandwich.

  As he closed the door behind him, he spied Grace pacing the kitchen, holding the phone like she might throw it. “I’m going to kill her.”

  Raina sat on one of the stools, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a long ponytail.

  “What’s going on?”

  His words elicited a grim expression from Grace and a flash of surprise from Raina.

  For a moment, a smile seemed to crease her face. Then it vanished, and she looked down, burying her attention in the pile of recipes, menus, and ingredient lists scattered on the granite countertop.

  Grace set the phone down, leaned against both hands on the counter. “Your overeager sister has agreed to a prewedding photo shoot that includes shots of the food for Hockey Today magazine.”

  Huh?

  “I know—I can’t believe it either. It’s less than a month before the wedding and I have to somehow scrounge up a gourmet sampling of the din
ner I plan to serve—by Saturday! Is she nuts?”

  “What’s on the menu?” He walked to the bread box, pulled out a loaf, and retrieved the peanut butter.

  “I don’t know. I was thinking we’d have poke and maybe ahi and ebi sushi for appetizers, although I’ll make some California rolls for those who don’t like ahi.”

  Raina didn’t even flinch at the conversation. She probably saw Grace in need and, just like she had with Casper, bellied up to be the first mate.

  His throat burned as he reached for the marshmallow creme.

  “Hey, don’t put that knife in there. You’ll get peanut butter all over the marshmallow.”

  “Seriously? Grace, calm down.”

  She took the knife from him, went to the sink.

  His gaze tracked to Raina. She didn’t look at him, but he took the opportunity to wander over and reach for the menu. “Smoked mahimahi tacos? Misoyaki butterfish? Short ribs?” He put the menu down. “Wow, that sounds great.”

  Grace smiled at him, and he glanced at Raina, hoping for something. She avoided his eyes.

  “So has Eden seen the menu?” he asked, taking the clean knife from Grace. He dug into the marshmallow creme.

  “I guess so. I sent her some ideas over e-mail, and suddenly I’m cooking for a national magazine.”

  “Has she ever even eaten mahimahi? Or butterfish?” He closed the sandwich, leaned against the counter.

  Maybe he could wait Raina out. She’d have to look at him someday. Or better yet, what if he simply hauled her onto the deck, out of earshot, and made her tell him what he’d done? He’d racked his brain—was still racking his brain—and couldn’t come up with anything.

  “I don’t know. The Hawaiian food was her idea, remember? I’m just trying to throw her the wedding of her dreams,” Grace said, retrieving the menu.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. Since returning home, Grace seemed changed. More resolute. Always an optimist, she had a way of making people believe that anything was possible. And now she seemed to be living up to her own words.

  “You’re really going to pull this off, aren’t you?”

  Grace sighed. “Absolutely.”

  But it was something in her sigh that made Casper hesitate. “But?”

  “But I’ve got to hire serving staff and go to Minneapolis and check out the venue, not to mention order the fish . . .” She glanced at Raina. “Maybe we should just have fluffernutters.”

  He laughed, and even Raina’s mouth tweaked up.

  How about that? It seeded an idea. “What can I do to help?”

  Grace glanced at him. “Really?”

  “Sure. I’m at your service.” He kept one eye on Raina.

  “Okay. Uh, I have to work, so you and Raina could track down where I can buy butterfish in Minneapolis. You could give her a ride into town later?”

  Yes! “I’m on it.”

  “I think I’ll go back with you, Grace. I have some things to take care of,” Raina said.

  Oh.

  Grace gathered her notes, putting them together in a file folder. “Okay. I have to get changed. I’ll be down in a bit.” She disappeared upstairs.

  Leaving Raina and Casper alone.

  He didn’t move.

  She slid off the seat, headed for the door. No—no—

  “Raina, can we talk?”

  “I gotta get going.”

  But he caught up to her, positioned himself in front of the door. “Please.”

  When she looked up at him, her face mirrored the brittle smile she’d produced in the hospital. “Listen, Casper, I know I’ve been acting weird—”

  “Was it something I said? Or did? Was I a jerk without knowing it?” He didn’t know where all this desperation came from, but he had to get behind her broken expression.

  Figure out why he couldn’t fix her.

  She shook her head, and he reached out and lifted her chin. Tears shone in her eyes.

  “I don’t know what I did, but you have to know, I’m so sorry for it.”

  “It’s not you, Casper. It’s me. I . . .” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I made a terrible mistake.” She sighed, her body shuddering.

  He couldn’t help it. Despite her posture, her chilly, almost-fearful demeanor, he pulled her to himself.

  And like a miracle, she surrendered and let him hold her, the icy wall between them shattering. She curled her arms around his shoulders, laid her head against his chest. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh,” he said, smoothing her hair. “I’m here to help. Let me help.”

  She said nothing, just took a trembling breath.

  He wiped a tear from her cheek and found her eyes.

  There she was, the Raina he knew. The one who cheered him on, called him Captain, believed in him. His gaze tracked to her lips.

  “Oh! Uh . . .”

  The gasp from Grace—he couldn’t tell if it was shock or horror—had the effect of a blade, slicing Raina from his arms. She stepped back, her eyes huge as she stared at Grace standing in the foyer, dressed in her Pierre’s Pizza outfit.

  Something dark, even angry, flushed over Grace’s expression. Casper had the uncanny feeling of being dressed down, like he should run.

  Her gaze went to his hand, still at Raina’s hip. “Wow,” she said. “Out of all my brothers, I didn’t expect this from you.”

  Then, her mouth tight, Grace pushed around them to the door. She stopped on the threshold, looking back at Raina. “You coming?”

  Casper’s heart broke a little more when Raina nodded.

  He wasn’t sure why he felt like he should keep apologizing.

  A good workout always cleared Max’s head, got his heart pumping, helped him focus on the essentials.

  Like hockey. Showing the coaches he still ranked among the best wings on the team. And . . .

  And like coming to terms with the fact that Grace didn’t want his help catering the wedding, despite her words about forgiveness. He didn’t blame her—not really. Because he hadn’t found the strength to forgive himself, either. Not for what happened with Owen. Certainly not for betraying her at the competition.

  Which meant that, without having to help her, he only had to keep Grace tucked safely in the darkest corner of his mind so she couldn’t escape, roam around, sending tentacles of pain through him.

  Running on the treadmill in the team workout room with the music blaring, the televisions muted on different sports games, he could lose himself and forget the sound of her laughter, the way her words could leach tension out of his day, leaving it bright and sunny.

  Rain teared down the giant picture windows, the sky mottled and bleak. Another day of rain—it sent a fog up from the river to linger on the streets of St. Paul, tempering the heat of July. Max had spent the better part of the last three weeks in the gym and had his body in top working order.

  Now he slowed the treadmill to a walk, spent a few minutes slowing his heartbeat, and then stopped the machine, stepping off to take his pulse. Perfect.

  Conditioning—one of his secret weapons. Learning to live above the pain, to press forward. Endure.

  Max could wring out his shirt, his hair sopping with sweat, now longer and shaggy. He shaved it short once a year, and by January it would hang below his ears; by May, be long enough to gather into a ponytail, if he wanted.

  He’d stop shaving right before training camp and start a nice growth of beard for the photo shoots in the fall.

  Grabbing a bottle of water, he drank it, resting as he contemplated another set of sit-ups.

  “Hey, Max. Is Grace still having a meltdown?”

  He turned, saw Jace coming toward him. Sweat trickled down his face, a towel around his neck.

  Meltdown? His expression probably betrayed his confusion because Jace shook his head.

  “And you didn’t know because you haven’t even bothered to call her.” Jace got on the treadmill, started it at a walk.

  “That’s not tr
ue. I . . .” Okay, he’d picked up the phone. Stared at it. Once, listened to a voice mail he hadn’t deleted. “I e-mailed her.”

  Jace kicked it up to a run. “That’s teamwork.”

  “Listen, she doesn’t want my help.”

  “You keep telling yourself that. Hockey Today is doing a spot about the wedding, and they want to include a couple shots of the food. They’re doing it Saturday afternoon at my place. Apparently Grace is a little freaked out.”

  A magazine spot? He kept his voice even. “She’d call me if she needed me.”

  Jace looked at him. “Seriously? How well do you know her?”

  Well enough to feel the burn of his lie. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure. How about the fact that this wedding is everything to Eden, and while I would have preferred to hire a caterer, it means the world to her to have Grace do this. Which means that I need you, Max. Don’t let me down.”

  “Fine.”

  Jace frowned, but Max didn’t stick around, just headed to the locker room.

  But what Jace had said kept dogging him. Meltdown.

  He’d seen one of Grace’s meltdowns, and the memory of it hung on to him like a burr, digging in.

  But if she’d needed him, she would have called and—

  Oh, he did know her better than that. He stepped into the shower. Tried to figure out what to say.

  Hey, Grace, I know we haven’t talked, and I said I’d help—

  Grace, what’s the deal? Why haven’t you called me?

  Grace . . . I need you. Please forgive me.

  Yeah, he hadn’t the foggiest idea how to start.

  But he got out of the shower, dressed, and sat on the bench, holding his phone in his hand, her number on the screen. Maybe he’d just start with . . .

  “Hello?”

  Her voice jolted him, sending a thousand currents of heat through his body. He swallowed, dug up his voice. “Grace? It’s Max.”

  Silence.

  Then, “Hi.” To his surprise, a hint of warmth layered her voice. Wow, he didn’t deserve that, but he leaned into it.

  “Hi. I was just checking . . . I mean—” He blew out a breath. “Grace, I’m sorry I haven’t called you. I sort of thought that maybe you didn’t want to talk to me.”

 

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