by JoAnn Durgin
Josh stood up and smiled. “We’re almost done. I’m sure you’ll be glad to be rid of us and all this racket.”
Cheryl shook her head. “Here. I made you something.” She thrust a paper plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies into his hands, covered with plastic wrap. “Thanks for what you’re doing for me and Denny.”
Josh nodded, swallowing hard. This woman barely had enough money for food and yet she’d made him cookies. Unwrapping a corner of the plate, he took a bite and offered one to Denny. With a quick look at his mom, the boy rose to his feet and grabbed one, stuffing it in his mouth. Trey took one, too, and thanked her.
“These are delicious. Thank you,” Josh said. Cheryl nodded, a look of pleased satisfaction creasing her lips. “We’ll be another twenty minutes or so and then we’re done. I’ll send someone over in the next week to fix that porch door.”
As he dropped off Trey at his brother’s house thirty minutes later, Josh pulled out his wallet and handed over three twenty-dollar bills. “Trey, do me a big favor in the next couple of days. Go to the grocery and get eggs, milk, bread, cheese, some ground beef—basic stuff—whatever you can get with this money. Keep a little for you but make sure you get as much as you can for Denny and Mrs. Hixon, okay? Will you do that for me, buddy?”
“Yeah. You can count on me. Do you want me to call and let you know when I’ve done it?”
“Not necessary. I trust you. Thanks a lot and I’ll see you next time.”
Trey saluted. As he got out of the car, he shot him a grin. “You know what you were talking about earlier? All the sports stuff?”
Josh chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Nah. You’re cool. I know you got a woman, Mr. Grant.” He shot him a grin. “Run it in for the touchdown, man.”
~~**~~
Josh rubbed his hand over his brow after a short stop to gas up the car and buy a bottled water. It had been a long day, but he’d sleep well tonight. Nothing sounded better than a long, hot shower to clean off the accumulated dirt and sweat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of satisfaction from a day’s efforts. Something about the physicality of working with his hands and putting his faith in action thrilled him more than his corporate deals. If only he could find some type of job that combined his two passions. Yeah, that’s definitely something to pray about. He took a long swig of the cold water as he headed down the highway.
Thoughts of ‘his girls’ occupied his mind, just as they had all day. Winnie and Chloe filled the most tender spot in his heart—that place which had remained hollow and meaningless far too long in his life. Man, I really need to call her. He needed to tell her he loved her. That wasn’t something he wanted to confess over the phone lines or via an e-mail message, but he felt the overwhelming urge to tell her now. He wanted to tell her so much more—things like how he wanted to cherish and protect them always. He’d love to take her on romantic outings, help her at catering events, hold her hand when she was sad, massage her tired feet at the end of a long day. How he longed to walk Chloe to school, help her learn new words, teach her to ride a two-wheeler bike, and fend off the inevitable when boys came calling a few years down the road. But, until Winnie was ready to make that kind of lasting commitment, he’d have to take it slower than he wanted.
Seized by a sudden urge to hear her voice, he pulled over at a rest stop twenty minutes from home. Grabbing his cell phone on the passenger seat, he punched in Winnie’s number. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Josh. You sound tired. Everything go okay today?”
The sound of her voice brought an immediate smile. He liked how she could sense his mood in only two spoken words. “Everything’s fine. We got a lot done today, but I needed to hear your voice.”
“It’s great to hear yours, too. Where are you?”
“Not far from home, yet not close enough.”
She giggled. “That’s an intriguing line. Am I supposed to guess what it means?”
He blew out a breath. “I hadn’t planned on saying this over the phone, and please forgive me. It’s way past time.”
“I’m listening.”
He detected a tinge of hesitancy. Not wanting to alarm her, he plunged right in. “I love you, Winnie. Both you and Chloe. So much it hurts.”
“Aw, cher.” That brought a smile, hearing how she’d adopted his Cajun manner of speaking. “We love you, too, Josh.”
Leaning against the headrest, he closed his eyes. “Picture me there with you, wherever you are, my arms around you, hugging you close. You’re not someplace where that would be highly embarrassing, are you?”
She laughed, the sound touching him deep inside, as it always did. “No, I’m home. Chloe’s taking a longer than usual afternoon nap and I’m fixing a light supper. Care to join us?”
“If only I could.”
“Tell me about your day, if you want.” Usually they talked every evening and reserved that topic for those times.
He told her about the project and his lunch with Trey, but not the part with the sports analogy. No need, but he was running in for that touchdown now. “How was your day with Chloe?”
Winnie hesitated, and he could hear her sigh. “Something hurtful happened but then it turned into something pretty amazing.”
His smile sobered and he sat up straighter in his seat. “Tell me.”
“We ran into a lady at the grocery who knew me from my former marketing job. Let’s just say this woman let it be known her thoughts about me being a single, unwed mother. She made my life pretty miserable at times. She always called me a goody two shoes and seemed to take pleasure in my circumstances, for lack of a better term.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. What happened?”
He heard the catch in her throat. “She pushed her cart alongside me and made small talk, but I knew she was leading up to one of her zingers. She’s known for them and I learned to stay away when I worked with her. She was talking about something inconsequential and then she nodded at Chloe and made some offhand comment about a mistake and used the Lord’s name in vain somewhere in the mix. The reference to a mistake was thinly-veiled but her barb hit its mark.”
That was enough to get him riled. “Okay, this is when being a Christian is difficult. Give me her address and I’ll make sure to have a word with her next time I’m in Houston. She won’t bother you or Chloe again.” As it was, he wanted to jump in his car and head on autopilot straight to Houston.
“Thanks, Josh. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Oh? Why is that?” He heard a muffled sound and wondered if Chloe had come into the kitchen. A moment later, he knew Winnie was crying although she tried to be quiet—whether to hide it from him or Chloe, he couldn’t be sure. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The worst thing was to hear her tears and not be beside her. “Is Chloe there with you now? I can call back later, if you want.”
“She’s still asleep.” She hesitated a moment. “Josh, Chloe heard what she said and it concerns me.”
His heart pumped overtime. “Oh, no. Do you think she understood what that woman—and I use that term loosely—meant?” How can someone be so callous? When it came to an innocent, impressionable child, that type of offensive comment was inexcusable.
“She can’t possibly understand what it meant, no. But mistake was one of her words not long ago. Chloe used the example of me writing down a wrong number on an accounting ledger and then erasing it. So, in that regard, she equates it with something wrong that needs to be corrected.”
Josh ran his hand through his hair. “Where does the pretty amazing part come into play?”
He heard Winnie sniffle and envisioned her straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. “This is how the Lord works. Chloe put her hands on her hips, marched over to her and said, ‘God doesn’t make mistakes. He makes miracles.’”
Josh couldn’t answer for a long moment, so long Winnie asked, “Are you still t
here?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Always.” His voice came out hoarse.
“Chloe was pretty cranky after that and I thought she might cause a scene. Maybe it affected her more than I know since she’s never acted up like that before, but I didn’t have the heart to punish her.”
“Of course not,” he said, recovering his voice after a few seconds. “She’s the perfect child. A little crusader, from the sound of it.” Pride swelled his chest. Can it be my child inherited that bold, fearless gene from me? From what he’d seen, Winnie was every bit as strong and independent in spirit. It was one of the many things he loved about her.
“There’s no such thing as the perfect child, Josh, and believe me, she has her moments. I’d worry about her if she didn’t, but I’ll claim her any old day of the week. Sounds to me like Chloe might make a great lawyer herself one day if she’s so inclined.”
That statement thrilled him. “Kiss our little miracle for me and tell her I’m coming soon to give her the biggest hug of her life. You, too. I love you, Winnie.”
“We’ll be waiting, Josh.”
Chapter 32
Late April
“Where are we, Kevin?”
With a cute grin, he turned his head, looking around. “Well, I’d say we’re in the health club.” They were both out of breath from working out, he in a pick-up game of basketball, she from working out on the rowing machine and then running on the treadmill. They hadn’t planned to meet but happened to be there at the same time—he with an A&M friend, Justin, and she with Hannah. He looked more rested than she’d seen him in weeks.
“Your mom doing better?”
The lines on his forehead relaxed even more. “Much better, thanks. Even more than the doctors hoped, so that’s an answer to prayer.”
“And how are you?” They’d seen each other in church and sometimes sat together, but he didn’t hold her hand, they didn’t go to lunch, and he didn’t offer to drive her anywhere. Rebekah shot him a glance full of meaning, brushing loose strands away from her face that escaped her ponytail elastic. She attempted to slow her breathing, but it was pretty much a lost cause.
“I’m not sure the gym is the best place for this conversation.” Unzipping his duffel bag, Kevin retrieved a towel and wiped his brow before wrapping it around the back of his neck. Soaked through to the skin, he looked good in his shorts and tank. The man played hard, like he did everything else. She hadn’t missed his glances in her direction when he thought she wasn’t watching and knew he appreciated her new workout clothes. Rather, how she looked in them.
“Where would be a better place then? Tell me and maybe we can arrange something.”
He paused and his eyes fell on hers. “Are you asking me for a date?”
“Depends. If I did, would you accept?”
He gave her a sharp look. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked away. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me. It’s my fault for confusing you. You obviously have feelings for the man.”
“I’m going to end it with Adam.” He looked up in surprise but didn’t speak. “I decided that night in the prayer meeting when Pastor Jim spoke about patience. I wasn’t going to say anything until I’d broken it off with him, knowing that’s what you’d want but Adam hasn’t been around much. I haven’t seen him or even talked with him for some unknown reason, and breaking up by telephone isn’t the way I want to end it.” The more she thought about Josh’s suspicions, the more she suspected her brother was right. But how could she fault Adam when she’d been seeing two men at the same time?
“Don’t do anything rash on my account.” Kevin turned aside.
“Rash?” She scoffed at that one. “It’s been weeks since that prayer meeting, Kevin. Trust me, I know it’s something I’ve needed to do for a long time. Forgive my assumption, but I thought you might be happy about it. My mistake, apparently.”
He tossed the towel back in his bag and zipped it closed. “Maybe you should spend some time single for a while, Rebekah.”
That was enough to send her heart plummeting. “What does that mean?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Once he knew she’d dumped Adam—or planned to break it off with him—she expected. . .she wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this reaction. Her mouth gaped when Kevin grabbed his bag and started to walk away, leaving her sitting alone on the bench.
“Kevin?” She prayed she didn’t sound desperate but really didn’t care. She’d pretty much left her pride in the dirt the night he’d taken off from the church parking lot after the prayer meeting.
The muscles in his cheeks flexed as Kevin walked back to stand in front of her. “I didn’t agree to sit by and watch that man steal you from right under my nose. One thing I’m not is stupid. I knew you’d either come to your senses or Adam would mess it up with you. Or both.” He stepped closer, all flushed, hot, sweaty male and surging testosterone. “I’ve loved you enough to wait this long and I can wait longer. Jumping from his arms straight into mine isn’t the answer. Figure out for yourself who—or what—you want first. That’s your answer. Before the next Adam comes along and turns your head. I can’t compete with that, and I shouldn’t have to.” He turned to walk away again.
Rebekah swallowed hard, her heart somewhere down around her ankles. I know what I want. You. She bit her lip. Oh, she’d blown this one royally. “And what do you want, Kevin?”
He turned halfway, giving her such a look of love she thought she’d melt right on the spot. Even without him telling her—and oh, how she wanted to hear those words again from this man’s lips—she knew he loved her.
“The same thing I’ve always wanted for you.”
She waited.
“The Lord’s best.”
For once, that answer didn’t satisfy. It wasn’t enough. “Kevin,” she said, rising to her feet and planting herself in front of him. “That horrible day at the French restaurant, what did you say to me? Please tell me.”
A slow grin upturned his tempting lips. It gave her incredible hope. “That, Rebekah, will just have to wait.”
~~**~~
Early May
Kevin blinked twice. Hard. Adam Martin was in the store portion of his family’s lumberyard. From the tilt of his head, the set of his shoulders, the man looked like he belonged in a smoking jacket in the drawing room of an English castle. What could he possibly want? Did Rebekah tell him about me? Determined no one else would wait on him, he waved aside the store manager and strode in Adam’s direction. “May I help you, sir?”
Adam turned and looked at him. It was obvious from his expression he didn’t recognize him as the man who’d manhandled Rebekah in that French restaurant. Of course, he wouldn’t suspect another suitor for the lovely Rebekah’s heart would work in a lowly lumberyard in jeans and a work shirt. He brushed the sawdust from his shirt.
“Ah, yes, my good man.”
Kevin swallowed his laugh. People actually talk like that? This guy was more than impressed with himself and wanted to play the British card. “What are you looking for today?” His dad always said, “Kill ’em with kindness.” That advice never rang more true especially now that Adam was in his store and a potentially well-paying customer.
“Why, I’m looking for some lumber, of course. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Adam looked around the large warehouse as though an immigrant landing on the shore of a newly-adopted country.
“Well, then, you’ve certainly come to the right place. Are you planning on building something?” Kevin bit his lip not to call him by name.
“I want a gazebo.”
That was a surprise. By the wildest stretch of his imagination, he couldn’t envision this man building anything. “You want to build a gazebo?” As soon as the words were out, he realized how ridiculous they were. He wouldn’t have a callus anywhere on his body and his hands were probably softer than Rebekah’s.
Down, boy.<
br />
Adam laughed. “No, of course, I don’t want to build it. Don’t be daft. I’d like someone here to build it and have it delivered.” Focusing on him, really seeing him for the first time, he tilted his head.
Better say something quick to circumvent any questions. Being called “daft” by a Brit twit wasn’t sitting well with him as it was. What does Rebekah see in this guy? Kevin grunted. “Do you have any specifications in terms of size, color?”
“I’m thinking of something on the smallish side but very private. Elegant.”
“Why don’t you come with me and I can show you some diagrams for prefabricated gazebos?”
As they walked, Adam said, “I’m planning on presenting a very special woman with the gazebo.” The man almost swaggered like a Texan. He was dressed in gray slacks and a light blue sweater, most likely cashmere that cost more than his entire wardrobe. He oozed old money and sophistication, and he was smooth.
Now the situation didn’t seem so amusing. While Kevin didn’t want to believe Rebekah lied to him, at the very least she apparently hadn’t cut Adam loose. What’s the holdup? And she thought he was taking it slow in terms of their relationship?
“I’m one of the owners of this store,” Kevin said, uncertain why he felt the need to throw that out there especially since he’d only assumed part-ownership the week before. “I’d be more than happy to personally assemble a gazebo for you. She must be a very special lady.” Oh, that was wicked.
Adam smiled and slapped him on the back. It wasn’t a real man’s man slap but one of those you’re-an-agreeable-chap pats. “She’s the prettiest girl this side of the Atlantic. Much more beautiful than those supermodels. Curvier. Softer. I’m quite the lucky man.”
Kevin averted his eyes and turned his head. Curvier? Softer? True enough although he felt like punching the guy for saying it. Made his blood boil. Maybe the men in Adam’s social circle talked like that, but he sure didn’t. He cleared his throat. “May I ask the special occasion?” Retrieving a notepad, he made random calculations, needing something to do with his hands.
