Sweet Surprise: Romance Collection
Page 20
Evan moved his finger from her hair to her face, skimming down her cheek, then along her chin.
Lorna shivered with a mixture of anticipation and dread, knowing she should pull away. Just as Evan’s lips sought hers, the floor began to move, and the walls swayed back and forth in a surreal manner. Lorna had heard of bells going off and being so much in love that it hurt, but if this weird sensation had anything to do with the way she felt about Evan, she didn’t want any part of loving the man.
Evan grasped Lorna’s shoulders as the floor tilted, and she almost lost her balance. Knowing she needed his support in order to stay on her feet, Lorna leaned into him, gripping both of his arms. “What’s happening?” she rasped.
“I believe we’re in the middle of a bad earthquake.” Evan’s face seemed etched with concern. It was a stark contrast from his usual smiling expression.
Lorna’s eyes widened with dread. She looked down and thought she was going to be sick. The floor was moving rhythmically up and down. It reminded her of a ship caught in a storm, about to be capsized with the crest of each angry wave.
“This is a bad one!” Evan exclaimed. “We need to get under a table or something.”
She looked around helplessly; there were no tables in the hall and none in the anatomy class, either. The room only had opera-style seats. “Where?”
Evan pulled her closer. “A doorway! We should stand under a doorway.”
The door to their classroom was only a few feet away, but it took great effort for them to maneuver themselves into position. Lorna’s heart was thumping so hard she was sure Evan could hear each radical beat. She’d been in a few earthquakes during her lifetime, but none so violent as this one.
A candy machine in the hallway vibrated, pictures on the wall flew in every direction, and a terrible, cracking sound rent the air as the windows rattled and broke. A loud crash, followed by a shrill scream, sent shivers up Lorna’s spine. There was no one else in the hallway, which was unusual, considering the fact that classes were scheduled to begin soon. Where was everybody, and when would this nightmare end?
Another ear-piercing sound! Was that a baby’s cry? No, it couldn’t be. This was Bay View Christian College, not a day care center.
“I think the scream came from over there,” Evan said, pointing across the hall. He glanced down at Lorna. “Did that sound like a baby cry to you?”
She nodded and swallowed against the lump lodged in her throat.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Evan handed Lorna the paper sack he’d been holding.
“No, don’t leave me!” She clutched the front of his shirt as panic swept through her in a wave so cold and suffocating, she thought she might faint.
“I think you’ll be okay if you wait right here,” he assured her. “Pray, Lorna. Pray.”
The walls and floor were still moving, though a bit slower now. Lorna watched helplessly as Evan half crawled, half slid on his stomach across the hall. When he disappeared behind the door, she sent up a prayer. “Dear God, please keep him safe.”
At that moment, the truth slammed into Lorna with a force stronger than any earthquake. Although she hadn’t known Evan very long, she was falling in love with him. In the few short weeks since they’d met, he had brought joy and laughter into her life. He’d made her feel beautiful and special, something she hadn’t felt since Ron’s untimely death. They had a common bond. Both were Christians, interested in music, and each had a desire to work with children.
Children. The word stuck in Lorna’s brain. She had always wanted a child. When she married Ron, Lorna was sure they would start a family as soon as he finished med school. That never happened because her husband had been snatched away as quickly as fog settles over Puget Sound.
She leaned heavily against the door frame and let this new revelation sink in. Was going back to school and getting her degree really Lorna’s heart’s desire? Or was being married to someone she loved and starting a family what she truly wanted? It doesn’t matter. I can’t have a relationship with Evan because he doesn’t love me. He’s been seeing Vanessa.
“Lorna! Can you come over here?” Evan’s urgent plea broke into her thoughts, and she reeled at the sound of his resonating voice.
The earthquake was over now, but Lorna knew from past experience that a series of smaller tremors would no doubt follow. She made her way carefully across the hall and into the room she’d seen Evan enter only moments ago.
She stopped short inside the door. In the middle of the room lay a young woman. A bookcase had fallen across her legs, pinning her to the floor. Lorna gasped as she realized the woman was holding a crying baby in her arms. The sight brought tears to Lorna’s eyes. Covering her mouth to stifle a sob, she raced to Evan’s side and dropped down beside him. She noticed beads of perspiration glistening on his upper lip. “Is she hurt badly? What about the baby?” Tears rolled down Lorna’s cheeks as she thought about the possibility of a child losing its mother, or the other way around. Please, God, let them be all right.
“The woman’s legs could be broken, so it wouldn’t be good to try to move her. The baby appears to be okay.” He pointed to the sobbing infant. “Could you pick her up, then go down the hall and find a phone? We need to call 911 right away.”
Lorna nodded numbly. As soon as she lifted the child into her arms, the baby’s crying abated. She stood and started for the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she whispered, “I love you, Evan, even if you do care for Vanessa Brown.”
The next few hours went by in a blur. A trip to the hospital in Evan’s car, following the ambulance that transported the injured woman…Talking with the paramedics who’d found some identification on the baby’s mother. Calling the woman’s husband on the phone. Pacing the floor of the hospital waiting room. Trying to comfort a fussy child. Waiting patiently until the father arrived. Praying until no more words would come. Lorna did all these things with Evan by her side. They said little to each other as they waited to hear of the mother’s condition. Words seemed unnecessary as Lorna acknowledged a shared sense of oneness with Evan, found only in a crisis situation.
The woman, who’d been identified as Sherry Holmes, had been at the college that morning, looking for her husband, an English professor. He’d left for work without his briefcase, and she’d come to deliver the papers he needed. Professor Holmes wasn’t in his class when she arrived. He’d been to an early morning meeting in another building, as had most of the other teachers. Why there weren’t any other students in the hallway, Lorna still did not understand. She thought it must have been divine intervention, since so much structural damage had been done to that particular building. Who knew how many more injuries might have occurred had there been numerous students milling about?
Lorna felt a sense of loss as she handed the baby over to its father a short time later. She was relieved to hear that the child’s mother was in stable condition, despite a broken leg and several bad bruises.
“You look done in,” Evan said, taking Lorna’s hand and leading her to a chair. He pointed to the paper sack lying on the table in the waiting room, where Lorna had placed it when they first arrived. “You never did open your present.”
She nodded and offered him a weak smile. “Guess I’ve been too busy with other things.” She pulled it open and peeked inside. A sweet banana aroma overtook her senses, and she sniffed deeply. “I’m guessing it’s a loaf of banana bread.”
Evan smiled. “It started out to be, but in the end, it turned out to be a kind of blueberry surprise.”
She tipped her head and squinted her eyes. “What?”
Evan chuckled. “It’s a long story.” He motioned to the sack. “Try a hunk. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Lorna opened the bag and withdrew a piece of the bread. She took a tentative bite, remembering the other treats he’d given her that hadn’t turned out so well. To her surprise, the blueberry-banana bread was actually good. It was wonderful, in fact. She grin
ned at him. “This is great. You should patent the recipe.”
He smiled and reached for her hand. “I don’t know what surprises me the most…the accidental making of a great-tasting bread or your willingness to be here with me now.”
“It’s been a pretty rough morning, and I’m thankful the baby and her mother are going to be okay,” she said, making no reference to her willingness to be with Evan.
“The look of gratitude on Professor Holmes’s face will stay with me a long time.” Evan gazed deeply into Lorna’s eyes. “Nothing is as precious as the life God gives each of us, and I don’t want to waste a single moment of the time I have left on this earth.” He stroked the side of her face tenderly. “You’re the most precious gift He’s ever offered me.”
Lorna blinked back sudden tears. “Me? But I thought you and Vanessa—”
Evan shook his head and leaned over to kiss her. When he pulled away, he smiled. Not his usual silly grin, but an honest “I love you” kind of smile. “I came to the restaurant last night to talk to you,” he said. “I was going to plead my case and beg you to give our relationship a try.”
“But Vanessa—”
“She was not my date.”
“She wasn’t?”
He shook his head.
“You were both at the same table, and I thought—”
“I know what you thought.” He wrapped his arms around Lorna and held her tightly. “She came into Farmen’s on her own, saw me sitting at that table, and decided to join me. The rest you pretty well know.”
She shook her head. “Not really. From the way you two were acting, I thought you were on a date.”
Evan grimaced. “Vanessa Brown is a spoiled, self-centered young woman.” He touched the tip of Lorna’s nose and chuckled. “Besides, she’s too young for someone as mature as me.”
Lorna laughed and tilted her head so she was looking Evan right in the eye. “In this life we don’t always get second chances, but I’m asking for one now, Evan Bailey.”
He smiled. “You’ve got it.”
“I think it’s time for you to meet my in-laws.”
“I’d like that.”
“And I don’t care how poor you are, either,” she added, giving his hand a squeeze.
“What makes you think I’m poor?”
“You mean you’re not?”
He shook his head. “Not filthy rich, but sure no pauper.” He bent his head down to capture her lips in a kiss that evaporated any lingering doubts.
Lorna thought about the verse of scripture Ann had quoted her awhile back. “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Her senses reeled with the knowledge that regardless of whether she ever taught music or not, she had truly found her heart’s desire in this man with the blueberry surprise.
BLUEBERRY SURPRISE
⅓ cup butter
⅔ cup honey
2 eggs
2 ripe bananas, mashed
1¼ cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon baking soda
1 cup blueberries
Cream butter and honey until fluffy. Add eggs, beating well after each. Add bananas and mix well. Combine dry ingredients and add to creamed mixture, mixing thoroughly. Gently fold in blueberries. Pour into a 9×5-inch loaf pan that has been lined with waxed paper. Bake at 350 degrees for 50 to 60 minutes, or until a wooden toothpick comes out clean. Cool, remove from pan, and gently pull away the waxed paper. (Makes 1 loaf.)
BITTERSWEET MEMORIES AND PEPPERMINT DREAMS
by Pamela Griffin
Dedication
A special thank you to my crit buds on this project, and to Lena—who gave me permission to use the tartar sauce/cake incident, based on the real-life experience of one of her family members.
As always, this is dedicated to my Lord, Jesus, who sweetens all the flops in my life, making masterpieces from the messes.
“Taste and see that the LORD is good.”
PSALM 34:8
Chapter 1
W ait! Don’t leave without me!”
Frantically waving her arm, Erica Langley darted through the icy drizzle, jumped a puddle, and just made it to the bus as the huge door closed. She pounded on the glass with gloved fingers. The driver opened the door again and raised bushy gray brows as he watched her clomp up the steep metal stairs and produce her ticket.
“Almost missed the bus, lady,” he grumbled.
“Sorry.” She attempted a smile, one he didn’t return.
Clutching her shoulder bag to her hip, Erica caught her breath and eyed the seats on either side of the narrow aisle. The front and middle ones were full. Toward the back she spotted two empty rows, but she didn’t think her shaky legs would carry her that far. Six rows down she spotted an empty seat on the left and moved toward it.
“May I?” she asked the elderly woman by the window, wondering why no one had claimed the coveted spot. Places close to the door were usually first to go.
“That seat is taken, but you can sit here, if you’d like.” The deep masculine voice came from Erica’s right. “The passenger who was sitting beside me just got off.”
She turned. Gentle brown eyes—puppy-dog eyes—smiled up at her. The hint of a crease in his right cheek suggested a boyish grin when his smile was full-blown. His auburn hair was cut short but unkempt, as if he’d run his fingers through the damp twirls a few times. Beads of moisture sparkled in the strands as if he, too, had made a recent dash into the cold rain. He moved a couple of magazines and a leather briefcase off the aisle seat next to him.
Erica hesitated, uncertain whether she wanted to be in such close proximity to this attractive stranger. He must be uncomfortable with his long, trim build folded into that confined space. His jeans-clad knees hit the upholstered back of the seat in front of him. And he wasn’t slouching.
“I promise, I don’t bite.” His sober expression didn’t match his light words.
Embarrassed to feel all eyes on her—even the driver’s, who impatiently looked at her in his long mirror above the wheel—Erica sank into the seat. As the bus rumbled out of the parking lot, she wished she had removed her coat first. To stand up now would be awkward. But judging from the warmth, the heater must be on full blast. Deciding she didn’t want to bake, even in such frigid weather, she pulled off her gloves and shrugged her right shoulder out of the coat sleeve. Twisting from side to side, she tried to rid herself of the rest of the red wool garment. A large hand touched her shoulder.
“Allow me.” Brown Eyes took her black furry collar and helped her remove her other arm from the sleeve. Then he pulled the coat from under her while she braced her hands on the chair arms and lifted herself a few inches. “Are you sure you want to take this off? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
Which has nothing to do with the cold. Get a grip, Erica. You’re twenty-three, not thirteen. “Thanks, I’m fine.” Fully seated again, she reclaimed her coat, laying it over her lap. She leaned forward, lifting her waist-length dark hair away from her back so it wouldn’t pull, and brought the thick swathe to rest over one shoulder. With jerky movements she straightened her cable-knit sweater, pulling the hem farther down over her jeans, and settled back for the long ride.
“Nasty weather to be out.” Duh! She mentally struck her forehead, realizing how stupid that sounded.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But at least we’re not getting sleet and snow like they are about fifty miles northeast of here. So what brings you out on a night like this?”
Erica hesitated. How could she answer such a simple getting-to-know-you question when her reasons were anything but basic? Should she relay her desire to find the missing piece of her life’s puzzle and explain the driving curiosity that compelled her to brave January’s bleak weather for a nine-hour bus trip? Or the curiosity that drove her to find out if too much time and distance would hamper the reunion for which she so desperately yearned? And so anxiously
feared.
As Erica studied his face—a strong, dependable face—she realized she could tell him none of these things. How could she speak of her heart’s hopes and fears when she herself didn’t understand them? He was only a stranger, someone who would pass in the night like the fabled ship. Still, there was something about his easy manner that invited confidence.
“Difficult question?” His words came out amused.
She settled for a standard answer. “I bought my ticket early to get the discount price. Since it’s nonrefundable, I didn’t want to lose out. You?”
“Going home. I had a business conference, and I’m not crazy about plane travel, especially on a day like today.” He held out his hand. “I’m Ryan Meers.”
She hesitated, taken aback by his open friendliness, then took the hand and offered a returning smile. “Erica Langley.”
He gave her hand a little shake. “Pretty name. Nice to meet you, Erica.”
Their conversation was interrupted as the lady who had the opposite aisle seat returned—a young pregnant woman with a tot wrapped in a pink baby sling around her. The child looked as if she couldn’t be more than a year old. The woman looked exhausted.
“Here, let me help.” Erica reached for the strap of the bulky diaper bag, which was sliding off the woman’s arm.
“Gracias.” Her lips pulled up in a faint smile at Erica. She wriggled her way into the confined space, one hand over the child lying against her protruding belly, the other clutching the chair back as she dropped to her seat.
“You certainly have your hands full,” Erica said sympathetically. “How old is your baby? And when are you due?”
“No hablo ingles.” Brow creased, the woman shook her head with an apologetic look.
“Oh.” Erica’s smile faded. She knew no Spanish.
Ryan leaned across Erica and began speaking in what sounded like fluent Spanish. Indeed, the words poured from his lips as if he’d been born with them. The woman’s face brightened, and she nodded with a huge smile, offering a stream of words in reply.