by Rachel Hauck
It was late when Will left Lambert’s Furniture. He didn’t bother checking on Taylor. She’d worked late most nights this week, but he knew she had a date tonight.
He tried not to picture Jordan laughing and talking with her, looking into her green eyes. His cell phone chirped. “Hello.”
“Hello, son, it’s Grandpa.”
Will unlocked his truck, hunching against the icy night wind. “What’s up?”
“Grandma thought you might want some dinner.”
Will laughed. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He’d been planning to stop by anyway. He needed advice.
When Will entered the Lamberts’ home on the hill, he hung his coat by the kitchen door. Next to the oven, Grandma stirred batter in a large bowl.
She smiled at him. “Let me get you a bowl of chili and a couple slices of warm bread.”
Will kissed her on the cheek. “They don’t make them like you anymore.”
Her blue eyes sparkled. “I hear they’re making them prettier and taller these days. Skinnier, too.”
Will shook his head. “Just cheap imitations.”
She laughed. “Scoot. Go see your grandpa.”
In the living room, Grandpa swayed back and forth in his rocker. “How are things with your new consultant?”
“Worth every penny we’ve been paying her,” Will said. “She’s already saved us ten thousand dollars on the HBS deal.”
Grandpa chuckled. “Not surprised to hear that.”
“Here you go, Will.” Grandma set a tray with steaming chili and hot, buttered bread on the coffee table. “What do you want to drink?”
Will shrugged. “Whatever you got. Water’s fine.”
“How about tea? Hot or iced?”
Will looked up at her. “Iced tea is good, but you don’t have to wait on me, Grandma.”
She fluttered out of the room. “Of course I do.”
Grandpa regarded him. “What’s on your mind?”
Will scooted to the edge of the couch, stirring the chili, letting it cool. “How did you win the heart of the prettiest lady in White Birch?”
Grandpa belly-laughed. “You’re asking me?”
“Yes.” Will slurped a spoonful of chili. Still too hot.
Leaning forward, Grandpa said, “I had the sympathy, man-in-uniform angle going for me.”
Will laughed. “Are you telling me if it weren’t for World War II, I might not be here?”
“There’s a real possibility.” Grandpa’s smile seemed to make his dark eyes twinkle. “You’d better talk to your grandma about winning over a woman’s heart.”
“What’s this?” Grandma came in with a tall glass of tea.
“Will needs our help, Betty.”
She sat down and placed her hands in her lap. “You got ten minutes. Cookies are in the oven.”
Will laughed. “Tell me how to win Taylor. She thinks our time has passed. Too late. Lost what we once had.”
Grandma waved her hand. “Taylor’s easy, Will. She already loves you. I can see it in her eyes. You just need to let her know that no matter what, you’re going to be there for her. Never let her go. Prove whatever happened between you ten years ago won’t happen again.”
Will grinned. Simple. Wise. Brilliant. Hopefully, not impossible.
eleven
“Well, well. Will Adams, we meet again.” Mia Wilmington sashayed down the aisle toward him just as he tossed a forty-pound bag of dog food to his shoulder.
“Mia. Hello.” He smiled but felt awkward seeing her again.
“What are you doing at Sinclair’s alone on a Friday night? A man like you ought to have a pretty woman on his arm.”
He agreed. But at the moment she was out with Jordan West. Pointing to the bag on his shoulder, he answered her question. “Dog needs food.”
“How sweet. Is there anything more romantic than a man who loves animals?” Mia tapped his arm with her well-manicured hand and batted her thick eyelashes.
He took a step back. “I suppose there are lots of things.”
She chortled. “Oh, you. Listen, let’s go for a coffee or something.”
“No, I’d better get home.”
“Oh, come on now. Don’t leave me hanging. You never did call after our date.”
Will winced. He didn’t mean to be rude to Mia, but he knew his affections belonged to Taylor.
“Well … “
“Come on, be a sport.”
“I guess one cup of coffee with a friend would be all right.” While he enjoyed Grandma’s chili, a cup of Peri’s coffee would top off his night.
“Sure, friend,” she said coyly.
Jordan held open the door to Peri’s. “Can you believe this weather?” Jordan asked, picking the first available table.
“Cold for November, isn’t it?” Taylor shivered and tucked her hands under her arms, breathing in the heady scent of blended coffees and teas and something that smelled like grilled bread.
Jordan offered to take her coat, but she declined. “Need to warm up for a second.”
“Sorry that old beater of mine doesn’t have better heat. I’d buy a new car, but I’m building a house, so all my money is tied up.”
Taylor nodded and smiled. “How nice. A new house.”
“Yeah, it’s been a dream for a long time. Shall we order?” Jordan jumped to his feet. “What’ll it be? Coffee, latte, tea?”
“Hot chocolate. Large. Extra hot,” Taylor said.
“Coming up.”
A chorus of “Hey, Coach” rose from Peri’s patrons as Jordan made his way to the counter. He waved and clapped a couple of the younger men on the shoulder.
When he returned with steaming mugs and sat down across from Taylor, they smiled at each other, then stared in opposite directions, their conversation fading away.
“Well, isn’t Peri’s the place to be?” Mia bubbled, clasping the collar of her coat around her neck, beaming up at Will as he opened her car door for her.
“Maybe it’s too crowded.” He hoped Taylor wouldn’t be inside.
“Come on, Will. Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud.”
Stick-in-the-mud? He followed her, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this situation. One weak moment at Sinclair’s and his night changed from a cozy evening with Grandpa and Grandma, then Harry, to an evening with frilly, silly Mia.
Lord, help. He didn’t want to lead her on. He planned to make it clear they were only going to be friends.
Inside, he saw a vacant table by the door and held out a chair for Mia. “I’ll get us some coffee.”
“Make mine a café mocha, please.”
Taylor ran the recesses of her mind looking for a topic she thought would interest Jordan, but between the drive in the car to and from the movie, they’d exchanged all the what-are-you-up-to-now information.
Football, she thought. “The football team is doing well, I hear.”
Jordan snapped to attention. “We are, so far. Eight and one.”
Taylor tipped her head to the side, her eyes wide. “Good for you. Going to the play-offs then.”
“Yes, then to state.” Jordan made a praying gesture with his hands. “Lord willing.”
“I hope you do. I know the boys on the team would be thrilled.”
“You should know.”
She sipped her cocoa. “Me?”
“State championship, girl’s basketball. Power forward Taylor Jo Hanson.”
“We lost.”
“At state. Runners-up. Not too shabby. Weren’t you MVP?”
“Long time ago, Jordan, in a land far, far away.”
He scoffed. “You’re a great athlete, Taylor. Last week’s touch football game proved that.”
“I love sports. Will and I used to …” She stopped, not meaning to mention his name.
“Is there anything between the two of you?” Jordan asked outright.
“No,” Taylor said, reaching for a stir stick, swirling the whipped cream into the chocolate. “We’re just
friends. Well, business associates, really.”
Jordan raised a brow. “Business associates?”
“I’m working with Lambert’s Furniture as a consultant until I find a new job.”
He nodded with an I-see look. “So you’re not planning on staying in town long.”
She motioned with her hand. “No, not at all. Temporary stop.”
Will ordered then leaned against the counter, facing Peri’s small stage as the guitar player took the stool and tuned up.
Glancing around, he recognized almost everyone in the place, then his gaze connected directly with Taylor Hanson’s.
He squared his shoulders as his heartbeat picked up. He gave Taylor a half smile and waved. She half smiled and waved.
Jordan sat on the other side, his back to Will. He seemed engaged in the conversation with Taylor, though from Will’s point of view, it seemed rather one-sided.
Taylor looked uncomfortable, and Will grimaced, realizing it was probably his presence that did it, not Jordan’s.
Mia, on the other hand, was engaged in a lively chat with the people at the table next to theirs. She gave Will a wild wave when she caught his attention.
“Here you go, Will.” Sissy Larson tapped him on the shoulder. “Two large café mochas.”
“Thanks, Sissy.” Will picked up the mugs and worked his way back to his table. When he sat down, he realized he was directly in Taylor’s line of sight.
He ducked his head and sipped his coffee, burning his lip.
Mia propped her chin in her hand and leaned toward Will. “So, what have you been up to these days?”
“Working, mostly.” He nodded. “Working.”
“Oh, I love a workingman. So romantic.”
Will winced with an inward sigh. It was going to be a long night.
Taylor stared out the window. What was Will doing here with Mia? Were they on a date?
She picked up her hot chocolate and took a big sip, concealing most of her face with the bottom of the mug, and cut a glance across Peri’s to where Will sat.
He watched the guitar player now, nodding his head to the rhythm of the song. Mia had her chin in her hand and seemed to be talking.
“More hot chocolate?” Jordan stood. “I could use another cup of coffee.”
“Yes, please.” Anything for a distraction. Jealousy tugged at her. But didn’t Will have every right to be here with anyone he pleased? Especially after the speech she gave him.
While she was enjoying her time with Jordan, deep down, Taylor knew he wasn’t the one. She glanced toward the counter where Jordan chatted with several men, waiting for their order. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her electronic data assistant and jotted a note to e-mail or call Indiana Godwin again. Taylor slid the device back into her bag just as Jordan returned, with Mia clinging to his arm.
“Taylor, this is a fellow teacher and friend of mine, Mia Wilmington.”
Taylor shook Mia’s hand. “We’ve met.”
“That’s right. At Italian Hills. Good to see you again.”
“Right.” Taylor shifted her gaze beyond Mia to Will. He was looking right at her.
“Say, why don’t you and Jordy join Will and me? We’d love it.”
“Oh, I don’t know …” Taylor shot Jordan what she hoped was a no-let’s-not look.
“Taylor, what do you say?” Jordan asked excitedly.
Not only had he missed her visual petition, he seemed to like the idea. So the evening wasn’t magical for Jordan, either.
“Okay, if you want to.” She grabbed her things and stood.
“Oh, wonderful,” Mia said, her arm still hooked to Jordan’s as they went over to give Will the good news.
Was it possible for the night to go from bad to worse? Finding himself in the company of the woman he loved while on a coffee date with a woman he didn’t?
He stood as Taylor approached. “Hello.”
“Hello.” She gave him a slow smile.
“Isn’t this cozy?” Mia said as she sat down between the men. Taylor took an awkward seat off to the side, but the fragrance of her perfume invaded Will’s senses. His coffee tasted even sweeter now.
He thought to focus on the guitar player’s lovely tune, lovely words. Focus.
“Will,” Jordan started, “Taylor and I were reminiscing about the 1990 championship basketball team.”
“Were you now?” Will peered into her eyes.
“Just for a moment.”
Jordan continued. “Taylor doesn’t think it was any big deal to go to state or be named MVP.”
She lifted her hands in defense. “We lost.”
“But you went to state.”
Mia fluttered in her chair like a disturbed hen. “What’s all this sports talk? There are ladies present.”
“Sports talk is fine with me,” Taylor said.
Will bit his lip to keep from laughing. Her words weren’t rude or snippy. They were honest—another reason why he loved her.
Their conversation quieted down during the last song of the singer’s set, and when the young man finished, the patrons applauded cordially.
Will glanced between Jordan and Taylor. “What’d you guys do tonight?”
She answered. “Went to a movie.”
“Good.” He was so close he could have kissed her cheek.
Mia seemed to want the conversation to be about her—or at least things she liked—so she took over. Jordan engaged her, genuinely amused.
An hour later, the foursome stood to leave.
“Well look at that, snowing again,” Mia said with a giggle as she slipped on her coat. “We’ll be buried before Thanksgiving at this rate.”
Will thought the scene looked beautiful, and if he had his way, he’d be holding Taylor close on a moonlit walk in the fresh snow.
He turned to Mia. “Good night.” He shook her hand and purposefully added, “Good to run into you at Sinclair’s.”
“We must do this more often. The four of us,” Mia said, unlocking her car.
Mia got into her car. Will watched as Taylor left with Jordan, a gnawing of jealousy in his middle.
Taylor stopped and gazed back at him. “Good night.”
twelve
The pews for the ten-thirty service were almost full by the time Taylor arrived at White Birch Community Church with her mother and dad. Tim and Dana had saved seats for them near the front.
Taylor sat on the end, grateful to be near the front and away from any distractions. If Will or Jordan were in the back, she wouldn’t even know. This morning she longed to focus on Jesus and His peace.
She’d awakened this morning with the familiar feeling of hopelessness, wondering if her life would never be right again. Would she find the right job? Would she ever surrender to love? Ribbons of sunlight filtered through the sanctuary windows. Taylor closed her eyes and exhaled, the presence of the Lord already touching her heart.
Someone patted her shoulder. “Move over.”
Taylor refused to open her eyes, but she recognized Will’s voice. “No.”
“Taylor.” He gently pressed his hand on her arm.
“Good morning, Will,” Grant said. “Here, sit.” Taylor peeked at her dad, who was moving over to make room for Will.
“Thank you, Grant. Good morning, Trixie.”
Taylor watched Will through narrowed eyes as he hugged her mom, shook hands with Tim and Dana, then shared a man-slapping hug with Pastor Marlow.
Will looked amazing in his black suit, white shirt, and sage and gold tie. Her heartbeat faltered a little when he sat down next to her and said softly, “Taylor.”
“Will,” she echoed.
“Have a nice Friday night?”
“Lovely,” she said with a smirk. “And you?”
“Swell.”
His intonation made her laugh. She covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers. She wanted to ask him how he ended up at Peri’s with Mia, but the worship leader took the stage and Taylor rose to her f
eet with the rest of the congregation.
Jeremiah strummed his guitar. “Let’s worship the Lord this morning in Spirit and truth.”
A chorus of “amens” echoed around the room.
“I’m here to focus on Jesus, so don’t bother me,” Taylor said to Will, leaning close so only he could hear.
“I was about to say the same to you.”
Grinning, she joined in the song. Oh, Will … You do have a way of getting under my skin.
Will could have stayed in the sanctuary all day with Taylor. Hanging out with Jesus and Taylor. Did it get any better?
He listened closely to Pastor Marlow’s sermon, making a mental note not to let Taylor’s reaction to him push him toward anxiety.
Shifting his gaze for a quick second, he looked over at her. Without pondering, he knew he could love her for the rest of his life. He wanted to love her. Not only was she beautiful with her sleek nose, long eyelashes, and stubborn chin, she challenged him to be better, to look at life as an adventure, and to see people, not a list of to-dos.
Will needed Taylor. And with God’s grace, he’d woo her heart.
Jesus wooed his heart every day, teaching him to respond in love. And in some small way, Will understood that the Lord loved him the way he loved Taylor.
“Let peace guard your heart and mind,” Marlow concluded. “Pursue peace.”
Will nodded and almost uttered amen. From the other side of the church, he heard Grandpa Matt vocalize his agreement with the message.
“Let’s stand and pray.” Marlow stepped from behind the pulpit.
Will stood. Next to him, Taylor rose to her feet, her expression serious.
“Everything okay?” he whispered.
She put on a bright smile. “Yes. I needed that message today.”
“Words I live by.” When the service ended, Will was about to ask her to lunch when Tim popped up between them. “Do you two want to go to lunch?”
Taylor shook her head. “I had a big breakfast. I’m not really that hungry.”
There went Will’s idea to invite her to lunch.
“Suit yourself. Dana and I are taking Mom and Dad to the new steak place out by the theaters.”
