“He’s okay.” Claire stifled a smile. Wait until she told Tony what they’d talked about in Bible study.
“He said he wasn’t married,” Rachel said. “And I got the distinct impression he might be interested in me. Do you know if he’s dating anyone?”
Rachel’s expectant gaze shifted around the group, and an empathetic pain stabbed Claire’s heart. The woman really didn’t know the score.
“He said he wasn’t married?” Claire asked, more to fill the awkward silence than to continue the conversation. “Did he say anything about being engaged?”
“No.” Rachel’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “He led me to believe he was unattached. Even said he was looking forward to seeing me in church on Sunday.”
“That’s Tony for you,” Dottie said with a nervous laugh, picking at a piece of lint on her pants. “He’s so personable, he makes everyone feel special.”
“That’s right,” Jocelyn seconded loyally. “He’s one guy that can make you feel like you’re the only woman in the room. I had the same impression the first time I met him.”
Although Claire didn’t believe a word of it, she appreciated their efforts.
“So you’re saying he’s engaged?” Even if they wouldn’t have heard the disappointment in her tone, the expression on her face said it all.
The three slowly nodded in unison.
“But to who?”
Jocelyn nudged Claire. “Show her your ring.”
“Your ring?” A sick look crossed the blonde’s face, and a bolt of red shot up her neck.
“Tony and I are engaged, Rachel.” Claire held up her left hand. “In fact, we’re getting married in two weeks.”
“I found the perfect woman for you.”
“Another woman?” Tony screwed a new light bulb into the chandelier and smiled at her. The dimple in his cheek flashed, and her heart melted. “No, thanks. One is more than I can handle.”
“Don’t you even want to know who she is?”
“Nope.” He climbed down the ladder and pulled it shut, resting it against the wall. “Not interested.”
“She’s pretty.” If you like blondes.
“In case you haven’t heard—” he spoke so low she had to move closer to hear “—I already have a fiancée. And she’s beautiful.”
“But she won’t be around forever,” Claire said. “What are you going to do when she’s gone?”
“I don’t know.” He paused, and his face clouded for a second. “I don’t want to even think about that now.”
Ask me to stay.
Tony stared so intently, for an instant Claire feared she’d spoken her wish aloud.
“Last night at Bible study, Rachel Tanner said she had the hots for you.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“She did.” Claire couldn’t resist pushing the point. “Rachel thinks you’re cute.”
“The woman has good taste.” Tony grinned. “I’ll give her that.”
“So you like her?”
“Claire, give me a break. I just met her yesterday. I don’t even know her,” he said with more than a hint of exasperation. “What’s the point to all this?”
“I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” he said softly.
“I’m talking about when I’m gone.” She met his gaze and held it. If he wanted her to stay this was the perfect time to tell her. All he had to do was say the word.
He gave her shoulder a squeeze then turned and grabbed the ladder. “Like I said, let’s not even think about that now.”
But it was all Claire could think about. That, and the fact that time was running out.
The Johnson-Kinisaw wedding was half-over, and Claire couldn’t have said what had even happened. She sat in the back pew of the church immersed in her thoughts. Claire still didn’t know where Tony stood. But she had decided that although Rachel liked Tony, he wasn’t interested in her.
But that doesn’t mean he won’t be once you’re gone.
The thought was surprisingly painful. Despite what she’d said to Tony about hooking him up with Rachel, she couldn’t bear to think of the two of them together.
Claire blinked back a few unwanted tears and took a deep breath. She’d known their arrangement was temporary. Hadn’t they even joked about trying to make it last at least a month? But back then, she’d never planned on falling in love.
The realization was bittersweet. She’d never expected to love him. It had happened without her realizing it. Without her even wanting it to happen.
Tony’s voice filled the church, and the band of hurt that had gripped her heart in a stranglehold tightened another notch. Hearing him talk about Christian love and commitment at a time when their relationship stood on the brink of dissolution was almost too much to bear.
Her eyes dropped to her hands, the sparkling ring trapping her gaze. How could she ever have thought it was ugly? She shifted her hand slightly, and the stone caught the overhead light.
How long would it be before he gave it to someone else? To a woman who would wear it proudly for a lifetime rather than just a month or two.
A lump filled her throat, and she forced her attention to the service. But watching the bride and groom light the unity candle only made matters worse.
Claire swallowed hard. Attending the wedding had been a mistake. She should have insisted on staying downstairs and helping Mrs. Sandy, despite the woman’s protests that everything was ready.
She and Mrs. Sandy had spent most of the afternoon getting the buffet set up and decorating the tables. There was nothing more to do but wait. The refrigerator was stocked with food ready to be set out, and Mrs. Sandy had the hot items warming in the ovens.
“Such a lovely couple,” the older woman next to Claire said loudly. “They’ll have beautiful children.”
Claire looked up just in time to see the bride and groom head down the aisle. She breathed a sigh of relief and flashed the woman a smile. “They’re both very attractive.”
It was a simple statement, but it was all the encouragement the woman needed. To start spewing family history. She was the groom’s great-aunt and she’d come all the way from Chicago for the wedding. Claire didn’t even bother to feign an interested expression. She’d made the mistake of answering, and now she had to take her punishment and let the woman talk.
And talk she did. About how the two had been high school sweethearts. About how their love had survived four long years of separation at different colleges. About how their love was destined to last an eternity.
“They’ll be together for the rest of the their lives.” A dreamy smile crossed the lined face, and Claire knew the woman was a hopeless romantic.
It was the only reason she didn’t bring up the story of her own parents who’d once vowed to love each other forever and didn’t. Or use as an example one of her many friends who’d married right out of college and who were already divorced.
“Right now they think they’ll love each other forever. But there’s no guarantee that’ll happen.” The words on the tip of Claire’s tongue popped out, surprising even her.
Behind her silver-rimmed glasses, the older woman’s eyes widened.
A flash of heat shot up Claire’s neck. “I’m sorry. It’s a wedding. We shouldn’t be talking divorce.”
“My dear, don’t apologize. I agree none of us knows what life holds in store. But I do believe if two people are committed to having a Christ-centered marriage, they don’t have anything to fear.”
Claire nodded, not wanting to say anything that might further the conversation. She glanced around and tried to see if there was a way that she could unobtrusively bypass being ushered out.
“My dear.” The woman grasped her arm. It was as if she knew Claire was ready to bolt. “When you get a chance, look up Second Timothy one, verse seven. I think it’ll help you understand what I’m talking about.”
Even though Claire doubted she’d have a chance to l
ook up the verse, she thanked the woman and slipped out the side door.
Mrs. Sandy would be waiting, and for once Claire couldn’t wait to get started. When you worked hard you didn’t have time to think. Or worry.
Claire gazed in awe at her very own creation nestled inside the molded plastic container. She’d made the apple pie herself, with her own two hands. It smelled heavenly. And, while the lattice-like strips of crust may not be even, they were golden brown. It was truly a thing of beauty.
So were the biscuits, and remember how they tasted.
She shoved the thought aside and popped the lid over the top of the carrier. The biscuits had been a mistake. She’d rushed, and it had showed. But she’d taken her time with this pie, determined it would be perfect. It looked perfect. Now if it only tasted as good as it looked….
“I would have been glad to help you make the pie,” Mrs. Sandy said for the tenth time.
“I know you would,” Claire said. “But it was important to me that I do it myself.”
Normally Claire would have gone out and bought one, or at the very least been content with letting Mrs. Sandy make it. But this time it was different. This time Rachel would be there with her blond hair and blue eyes and award-winning peach pie.
And Claire refused to walk through Jocelyn’s front door with a pie she hadn’t made.
“Ready to go?” Tony stuck his head into the room, and Claire’s heart picked up speed.
“As a matter of fact I am.” Claire gave Mrs. Sandy a quick hug, then picked up the pie. “Thanks so much for talking me through this pie thing. I know it would have been faster to do it yourself.”
Mrs. Sandy returned her hug. “We all have to learn sometime. If my mother hadn’t taught me, I couldn’t have taught you. Someday you’ll teach your own daughter.”
“Claire, we’re running late,” Tony warned.
“Coming, darling.” She gave Mrs. Sandy a wink, feeling strangely happy and carefree. “Men. They’re always in such a hurry.”
“That’s because—” he took the pie container from her arms and shot her a cocky smile “—women are always late.”
They headed out the front door, and despite a light evening breeze the spicy scent of his aftershave surrounded her. She wrapped her arm through his. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”
“Really?” Tony chuckled. “I got the impression the other day that you liked it. A lot.”
Her heart beat double time, remembering. “So, are you teasing me?”
“I hope so.” Tony opened the car door and waited until she’d sat down before he handed her the pie. “Because I haven’t been able to think of doing anything else all day.”
Claire waited impatiently for Tony to round the front of the Jeep and slide behind the wheel. Then, before he could even put the key in the ignition, she leaned across the console, turned his face to hers with one hand and kissed him full on the lips.
This time she didn’t rush, and neither did he. She put all the emotions that had been churning inside her into the kiss, and when they finally, reluctantly, separated, her insides trembled.
“Wow,” Tony said. He raked his fingers through his hair. “That was worth waiting for.”
“Tony.” Claire ran her fingers lightly up his bare arm, and his muscles tensed beneath her touch. “You don’t need to think of an excuse to kiss me. As far as I’m concerned, anytime is a good time.”
Tony smiled, and that incredible dimple flashed in his cheek. “Anytime?”
Claire thought for a moment. Would there be a time when she wouldn’t want Tony to kiss her? No, she thought, but there would be a time when Tony wouldn’t be around to kiss.
“That’s right,” she said. “Anytime works for me.”
“I’m out.” Tony laid his cards on the table and pushed back his chair.
His gaze scanned the room, looking for Claire. When they’d sat down to play cards, he’d been disappointed to find that all the couples had been separated. Adam had shrugged and told him it was Jocelyn’s idea. It was her way of making sure everyone mingled.
Tony had definitely done his part. The way the game was structured, the winners got to stay together as partners while the losers had to split up and move. Since he’d lost far more games than he’d won, he’d had more than ample opportunity to interact with practically everyone.
Except Claire and her partner. They’d won every hand and hadn’t moved once. His gaze lingered on her. He liked what she’d done with her hair, twisting it in a different kind of way. Claire was clearly the most attractive woman in the whole room. It was hard to believe she was with him.
He watched her slap down her last card with a flourish. She laughed in pure delight. Obviously it had been another winning hand. He smiled at her exuberance. Claire now found joy in the smallest things. Even things that in the past she wouldn’t have given a second thought. Like this morning when she’d told him she’d learned how to make a bed with hospital corners. Or right before they left, when she’d showed him the pie she’d made all by herself.
Her masterpiece sat on a table against the far wall with five other pies. Unfortunately—and he’d never admit this to Claire—her apple looked like a plain Jane next to the pumpkin with streusel topping, the meringue with three-inch peaks or Rachel Taylor’s sour cream peach.
“Looks like you’re a loser, too.” Almost as if she’d appeared when he’d thought her name, the slender blonde stood beside him.
“Loser?”
She gestured with her head toward the two couples still playing. “At cards.”
“Yeah, well.” Tony shrugged. “I’ve never been that much of a card player.”
“Tim and Claire sure seem to have the magic touch.”
He stared at her blankly.
“Tim,” she prompted. “The guy I came here with.”
“That’s right. Your date.” Tony remembered being introduced, but he hadn’t talked to the guy since.
“Not my date,” Rachel said firmly. “The guy I came with. There’s a difference.”
Tony smiled agreeably but didn’t argue. Though he didn’t see much difference, obviously she did.
“Claire and Tim certainly seem to get along well,” Rachel said with an odd note in her voice.
Tony raised a brow.
“Since this is the first time they met and all,” Rachel added quickly.
“Claire’s very outgoing,” Tony said.
“That’ll be a real plus when she’s a minister’s wife.” Rachel studied Tony carefully for a moment. “You two are getting married, right?”
He suddenly remembered Claire teasing him about Rachel, saying the woman had the hots for him. He’d brushed it off then. Now, seeing the look in Rachel’s eyes, he suddenly wasn’t so sure.
Tony shifted his gaze to Rachel. “That’s the plan.”
If he hadn’t been looking for it, he might have missed the disappointment that skittered across the woman’s features. Guilt sluiced through his veins. He’d never meant to give her the impression he was available. Or interested.
It was odd. When he’d been in the seminary and all his friends were getting married, he couldn’t help but wonder what the woman would be like who he’d one day marry. Back then he’d pictured someone very much like Rachel. He knew she was a wonderful woman. The problem was there was already someone else in his heart.
“You two look so serious.” Claire moved next to him, and he realized with a start the game must finally be over. “What’s up?”
He draped his arm over her shoulder and smiled. “Actually Rachel and I were talking about you. Or rather about you and me. About our wedding.”
Her dark eyes met his, and for a moment he lost himself in their depths.
“I love Claire’s engagement ring,” Rachel said, and Tony realized she was still standing there. “Didn’t it once belong to a relative of yours?”
“It was my great-grandmother’s engagement ring,” Tony said.
“That
is so romantic,” Rachel said softly. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to wear a family heirloom and know one day you’ll hand it down to your son or daughter.”
“If they want it,” Tony said.
“Want it?” Rachel’s voice was incredulous. “Of course they’d want it. Who wouldn’t?”
Claire sighed and leaned back in the car seat, twisting the ring with her thumb. For one brief moment, she and Tony had connected. And in that instant she’d believed he’d wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Not in the physical way, although that pull was definitely there, but in the forever-and-always sense. The until-death-do-us-part kind of thing.
But Rachel’s words had severed that connection. And what could she have said? It wasn’t the time to tell him she’d realized how wrong she’d been, with Rachel standing there hanging on every word.
And had she only imagined a distance, a coolness between them the rest of the evening? Only the fact that he’d taken a second piece of her pie, bypassing Rachel’s sour cream peach entirely, had given her reason to hope.
The car pulled up in front of the bed-and-breakfast. Tony flicked off the lights.
Claire sat in the silence gathering her courage.
What if she’d read him wrong? What if he didn’t return her feelings? She knew he was fond of her, liked kissing her, but did he love her?
“Claire.” Tony spoke first, and in the darkness she couldn’t see his eyes or read his expression. “Would you sit with me on the swing for a few minutes?”
She nodded and followed him up the steps. When he sat on the swing, she automatically took the spot next to him. His arm moved around her shoulders, and she leaned her head against his chest.
“Tony.” Her fingers toyed with a button on his shirt, her voice muffled against his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything.” She could feel him sigh. “I’m not sure.”
“I have a suggestion for you.” The button slipped open.
Tony tensed and pushed her hand away. “Claire, kissing doesn’t solve everything.”
Redeeming Claire Page 11
