Spring Raine

by Delia Latham

After seating Raine at a small table covered with a white lace tablecloth, her hostess set out delicate china and silverware, along with dainty sandwiches and bowls of hot soup.

  Raine couldn’t quite wrap her mind around Miss Love’s statement at the door. “What did you mean…I’m glowing red?”

  The older woman paused in her happy bustle around the kitchen. She said nothing for a moment, but filled a small bowl with green olives and joined Raine at the table.

  “Sometimes I see things, dear—things other people don’t seem to, for whatever reason. When I opened my door, you were surrounded by an ugly, dirty red aura. Your entire body was painted crimson.” She shrugged and offered a tiny smile. “Red usually indicates anger, and the deeper the red, the more intense the emotion. You’re very angry.” She reached for Raine’s hand and grasped it in a firm grip. “Let’s pray, and you can tell me about it while we eat.”

  Raine bit at her lip, but she bowed her head.

  “Dear, sweet Father God. Thank You, as always, for the beautiful gift of sustenance that You’ve provided. We are grateful. Thank You also for sending Raine to this lovely spot in Your world for a while. I will love having her nearby. And one more thing, Father…whatever is bothering my young friend today, please give her Your peace, and calm her troubled spirit. I thank You now for what I know You will do.” She squeezed Raine’s hand. “Amen.”

  To Raine’s surprise, she did feel calmer. She’d tried all morning to release the anger that had her by the throat, with zero success.

  Her hostess’s sweet spirit and simple prayer had accomplished what seemed impossible in a matter of minutes. What was it about this woman?

  Miss Love swallowed a dainty bite of her olive-and-parsley sandwich on focaccia bread. “So. Will you tell me what’s going on?”

  “I met your neighbor this morning.” Raine sipped tea, trying to keep the memory from raising her ire yet again. “He is not a nice man.”

  Blue eyes widened in obvious surprise. “You can’t be talking about Declan Keller. Why, he’s quite the nicest young man I’ve ever met…well, one of the nicest.” A twinkle from her cerulean gaze tickled Raine’s lips into a smile. “I’ve been around a long, long time, dear. I guess I may have met someone nicer than Declan, but I really don’t remember when.”

  Raine laughed. “You can’t have been around that long, Miss Love. Besides, yours is a timeless beauty. I can’t imagine you ever looking old.”

  “Call me Miss Angie, dear. Please.” Her smile nearly took Raine’s breath away. “And you’re so sweet. But I’m older than you think.”

  Good manners kept Raine from asking how old, but she couldn’t help wondering. The lady seemed ageless.

  “Well, be that as it may, I think I may have seen a side of Mr.—what did you say? Keller?” At Miss Angie’s nod, she continued. “I saw a side of Mr. Keller that you’ve most likely never seen.”

  “Hmm.” A puzzled frown placed a delicate line across her brow. “Want to tell me about it?”

  Raine hesitated, but then launched into a detailed account of her encounter with the handsome but unfriendly owner of the neighboring property. “He was totally obnoxious.” She finished her story and reached for another green olive.

  “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” Miss Angie’s murmured words barely reached Raine’s ears.

  “I’m sorry. I missed that…?”

  The woman smiled and waved a deprecating hand. “Oh, just quoting from one of my favorite books.”

  “And what book might that be?”

  “Why, the Holy Bible, of course.” Miss Angie smiled, and in the same instant, a beam of sunshine pierced through the window behind her.

  For the second time since she’d arrived, Raine saw a halo of light around the woman’s white hair. She caught her breath, and then released it as her hostess continued.

  “That verse was from Proverbs fifteen, verse one. ‘A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.’ I was just thinking that my friend Declan might have handled the situation a little better if he’d remembered that verse in time. But then again, he’s only human.” She shook her head, and her pleasant face took on a puzzled expression. “The entire race seems a bit forgetful of God’s Word at times.”

  “Yes, I suppose we are.”

  “Now.” Miss Angie reached across the small table to place a gentle hand atop Raine’s. “Don’t be too quick to decide what you think of Declan. I wouldn’t base an opinion on that unfortunate meeting. It is your glory to pass over a transgression.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  Soft, warm laughter acted on Raine’s emotions like a dose of high-strength calm.

  “Oh, there I go again. That was also from Proverbs—chapter nineteen, verse eleven. ‘The discretion of a man deferreth his anger; and it is his glory to pass over a transgression.’ It might be to your glory to temper your own anger until you know Mr. Keller a little better. Perhaps he had good reason for such overreaction. One never knows.”

  Raine trapped her lip between her teeth while her mind took a lightning trip backwards…into the “unfortunate” encounter. Yes, she’d startled him with her joyous shout, and yes, she’d probably caused him to break the ear off the stunning bear sculpture. Still, his reaction seemed a little overdone.

  Was it possible Miss Angie was right…could there be more to the story? Maybe Declan Keller did deserve a bit more knowledge and consideration on her part before she dubbed him “bad” for once and all.

  Miss Angie gave Raine’s hand a gentle pat. “All I can tell you, dear, is that Declan has been the epitome of the word gentleman to me. He’s kind, respectful, helpful…” Another twinkle of those too-blue eyes pierced through Raine’s remaining anger with the effect of cool water on a sunburn. “And so very handsome, of course.”

  Raine grinned. “All right, all right, Miss Angie. Even I can’t deny the man is nice looking, even if he is an ogre.”

  “Which he is not.” The landlady’s laughter soothed away the last of Raine’s anger, as if it had never existed.

  “Actually, I’m thinking the entire incident was probably my fault. I did burst out of the trees rather noisily.” She giggled, remembering her uncharacteristic moment of uncontainable joy. “It’s a wonder I didn’t give the poor man a heart attack.”

  Miss Angie stood and started clearing plates from the table. “Well, don’t go placing all the blame at your own doorstep either, my dear.” She motioned Raine back into her chair when she made as if to help. “I’m just getting these out of the way so I can put dessert on the table. You are not to move a muscle.”

  Raine laughed. “That’s sweet, but I can’t be coming to lunch with you if you won’t let me help.”

  “Oh, I will, dear, I will. Just not today.” A plate of luscious-looking banana pudding topped with fluffy whipped cream, cherries, and chocolate shavings slid onto the spot from which her plate had disappeared. “I hope you like banana pudding. It’s a recipe that’s been passed down through many, many years—probably as old as the first banana tree.” Miss Angie’s smile set her eyes a-twinkle.

  Raine waited until her hostess reclaimed her seat, and then slipped a spoonful of the pudding between her lips. Her eyes widened as exquisite flavor burst against her tongue. “Oh my! This is heavenly.”

  The landlady smiled and paused with her spoon at her lips. “Isn’t it just?”

  ****

  Declan Keller hung up the phone with a disgruntled sigh. Was it possible to take the whole “good son” thing way too far?

  This time, his father had asked entirely too much.

  Declan shook his head, knowing he’d do what he could anyway, because he loved the man.

  Dad knew it too—he’d counted on it when he’d asked.

  Still, despite his faults—and Dec couldn’t deny he had them—no one could ask for a more loving earthly father than Ken Keller, and Dec had no
problem helping him out now and then. Even if what he asked was doggone inconvenient, and not something Dec looked forward to. He slapped together a ham-and-cheese sandwich, poured a glass of ice water, and took it to the front porch, still mulling over his dad’s phone call.

  Some Pasadena honcho wanted protection for his daughter while she visited Cambria. The man was a friend of Michael Quinn—mayor of Cayucos, Cambria’s neighboring town. The Pasadena fellow had called in a favor, and Quinn, in turn, called his old fishing buddy—Declan’s dad—asking if Declan might take on the responsibility of being a “ghost guard” for the girl. The Pasadena father apparently didn’t want the young lady knowing he had eyes on her. He didn’t want his only child to think he “didn’t trust her,” but he was concerned for her safety, as she’d never vacationed on her own.

  So now, on top of his busy schedule creating painstakingly detailed wood sculptures and trying to get them noticed in the art world, Declan had taken on a babysitting job. Why did people let their teenagers run all around the globe by themselves in the first place?

  He huffed out a frustrated sigh and hauled himself off the comfortable rocker. After tossing his crumbs out on the lawn for the birds, he stretched backward. He’d been working since just after dawn and would have liked nothing better than to get back to it—especially now that he had a jagged-eared bear to deal with—but he needed to check in at Paradise Pines.

  The young “princess” would be staying at the lodge, which bordered Dec’s property. He wasn’t sure when the girl would arrive, and Declan wanted to speak with Miss Angie before the new tenant showed up.

  If he could get the sweet lady in on the action, maybe his own role in the silly charade wouldn’t be such a chore. But he could only hope the woman was around. Most of the time, his visits to the lodge were fruitless, as no one answered the door, and he rarely saw Miss Angie unless she invited him over. He often wondered where she disappeared to all the time…and where had she come from? She’d simply shown up shortly after Preacher died, and then guests began coming to the Pines.

  Dec thought about the previous owner.

  The old man had loved the Lord with his entire being and was rarely seen without a Bible tucked under his arm. He’d passed away while out in his little fishing boat. Another fisherman found him stretched out on his back, his open Bible lying down across his chest, and his familiar, battered old fishing hat shading his face from the sun.

  Dec missed the old guy.

  Had the man even had a name? He’d been known only as Preacher, even though he wasn’t one in the proper sense of the word. Even after he died, no one found a single clue anywhere as to a name or date of birth. His gravestone simply read, “Preacher. He loved the Lord.” The year of his departure to be with the Savior was etched beneath that simple epitaph, preceded by a couple of question marks and the ever-present dash that, in Preacher’s case, indicated a life well-lived.

  Oh well. Preacher’s name, or lack of one, wasn’t Dec’s business. The old guy never made trouble for anyone, and neither did Miss Angie and her guests. As long as that remained the case, he’d keep himself out of matters that weren’t his to worry about. Still, the lodge seemed destined to be overseen by people who couldn’t quite be categorized as “normal.”

  Ten minutes later, he knocked on the door at Paradise Pines. He never minded waiting when Miss Angie didn’t answer right away. The property around the lodge was nothing short of spectacular, and today it fed his soul, acting as a balm to his spirit after his earlier encounter with the happy-happy tourist who’d caused him to break off Grizzly’s right ear. Even now, he stewed every time he thought about the woman bursting onto his property with such a boisterous holler—despite the fact she’d seemed to be shouting out praise.

  Why she was hollering like a hoarse banshee was not the issue. Dec had jumped three inches into the air, and taken the poor bear’s unfinished ear with him.

  Still, he regretted having been unnecessarily harsh with the young woman. In spite of his rage at having gouged his carving, and although the intruder had been dressed way down—ponytailed hair, a simple running outfit, and little, if any, makeup—he’d noticed her beauty. His trespasser was a stunner—not that it mattered. He’d still lit into her as if she’d set the woods on fire, and he regretted that display of uncharacteristic temper.

  She couldn’t have known, coming from the direction she’d arrived, that she was entering private property since he’d never posted signs along the woods path.

  But he hadn’t thought about that oversight this morning.

  Well, perhaps he would run into the disruptive woman in the village. If God allowed him to do so, Dec would figure he was meant to extend an apology. If not, well…maybe the overly boisterous female wouldn’t be in such a hurry to crash into unknown territory next time.

  The door swung open, and as always, Dec’s lips tugged themselves into a smile just looking at Miss Angie. That sweet face of hers never failed to warm his heart and remind him how blessed he was.

  Good neighbors weren’t a given, but he’d somehow been blessed with the best of the best.

  “Declan!” Miss Angie drew him in and he bent to kiss her soft cheek. “Come in, dear, come in. I want you to meet someone.”

  Drat. He didn’t have time for niceties right now. He just wanted to have a quick conversation and get back to work. He’d left Grizz without an ear, and every old bear needed two of them.

  Before he could say as much, his hostess grabbed his hand and tugged him along, headed for the kitchen.

  Dec sighed. What difference would a few minutes make to Grizzly? The poor fellow was scheduled for ear surgery and probably wasn’t in any hurry to go under the knife again.

  “We’ve been having a delightful chat. She got here last night.” Miss Angie pulled him through the archway into her cheery kitchen, and he stopped cold.

  From the cutesy little breakfast nook, a pair of familiar green eyes stared back at him. If his gaze held even half the horror displayed in those emerald orbs, Miss Angie couldn’t help but feel the tension. She’d always been insightful…almost scarily so at times.

  A thick silence fell over the room.

  “Oh dear. This is worse than I thought.”

  Declan dragged his gaze from the frozen brunette across the room and pinned it on Miss Angie. “Worse than you thought? About what?”

  “Well, dear, I know you and my guest have already met, in a rather unfortunate way, but I didn’t realize your encounter was quite this bad.” She clucked her tongue and patted his arm. “I finally got that ugly red aura off this poor girl, and here you are wearing one just like it, if not worse. Well, come then. Sit down right here. You young folks clearly need to make peace.”

  Dec didn’t immediately move forward. He’d planned to apologize if he ran into his early-morning trespasser again, but he’d thought the chances of doing so somewhat unlikely.

  “Come now, Declan.” Miss Angie’s low chuckle eased the tension in his neck and shoulders. “This is outrageous.”

  He couldn’t help laughing. “Outrageous, Miss Angie?”

  “Yes, indeed. Proverbs 27:4. ‘Anger is outrageous.’ So let’s get this fixed and clear up the”—She glanced around the room, her nose wrinkled as if something stank—“outrageous red air.”

  Dec sighed. Like it or not, Miss Angie wasn’t wrong. He needed to apologize to her guest. “Well, I can’t say I disagree, though I’ll admit it hurts my pride to say so.” He approached the table with a smile and an outstretched hand. “Declan Keller.”

  The young woman stood. She didn’t smile, but stuck her little chin in the air and placed a slender hand in Dec’s. “Raine Presley.”

  Dec’s heart sank to his toes. No way. He’d gotten the impression from his father that his new charge wasn’t yet in town, but Raine Presley was without a doubt the name his father had given him. It wasn’t exactly a name one tended to forget.

  Why had he thought she’d be a teen? His intuiti
on was usually faultless, but then most parents didn’t hire silent bodyguards after their daughters grew up.

  And Raine was definitely an adult, and all woman. Keeping a watchful eye on her could get sticky, especially now that his plans to do so without ever actually meeting her were foiled. He couldn’t keep a discreet watch on someone who would recognize him. Cambria simply wasn’t big enough for that.

  Dec reminded himself that God never made mistakes. Still, he found it difficult to imagine a scenario in which this fiasco ended in less than full-blown disaster.

  3

  Raine sighed. Might as well get it over with. “I’m sorry I startled you this morning, Mr. Keller. I honestly had no idea I had traveled outside the boundaries of Paradise Pines.”

  Declan shrugged. “I’m the one who owes an apology. You couldn’t have known. I realized—after the fact—that I’ve never placed signs on that trail. Never saw the need, until now.”

  Miss Angie placed a dish on the table. “Have a seat, Declan, and try this banana pudding.”

  “I don’t have a lot of time, Miss—”

  “Sit!” A none-too-gentle shove landed him in the designated chair. “You must make time for life’s little pleasures.”

  Across the table, Raine giggled as Declan obediently picked up a fork, but she managed to speak through her laughter. “And a pleasure it certainly is. You won’t be sorry, Mr. Keller.”

  “Declan, please. Or Dec.” He paused with the fork at his lips. “Unless you prefer to be Miss Presley.”

  “Raine is fine.”

  He nodded and the forkful of pudding disappeared between firm, nicely shaped lips.

  Raine’s stomach did a series of somersaults, and she swallowed…hard. What in the world was that all about? One would think she’d never seen a man eat before.

  Never a man like this man.

  And ten minutes earlier, she’d been ready to strangle “this man.”

  Her gaze flew to Miss Angie, whose unusual blue eyes seemed to see right into her heart. Raine’s breath caught in her throat. She knows something. Not what I’m thinking, of course—that isn’t possible. But something.