She batted her eyelashes at him playfully. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
His answer was a cocky grin.
She slid one hand into the crook of his elbow, the blacksmith’s muscles strong beneath her fingertips. As they strolled along Duke of Gloucester Street, Chris kept up a joking commentary on the peculiarities of the various shopkeepers. Christopher had always known how to make her laugh, had always been there to listen. For the first time in a long while, she felt relaxed and carefree again. A summer in the company of an old friend, far from the gossip of Chestnut Grove, might be a good thing after all. Catching up didn’t have to include everything.
When they reached Chownings, tourists crowded the century-old eating establishment. In costume, she and Chris were obliged to act the part wherever they went. Chris was far better at it than she, doing so with grace, humor and amazing historical accuracy.
“You’re good at this,” she said when they were finally alone.
“Thanks. Do you like my ponytail?” He patted it. “It’s new this summer.”
“Charming. But it’s the buckled shoes that really grabbed me.”
Humor sparkled in his green eyes. “That’s what all the women say. Wait until I don my tricornered hat. Turns me into a regular chick magnet.”
They both laughed, but Ashley realized Chris was a chick magnet. He hadn’t been in school, but that was because of the snob mentality which deemed him unworthy because he didn’t come from a prominent family. Even then she’d recognized the lie in that. Chris had been worth more than all the money in that school. She just wished she’d realized it sooner.
The waitress came and they ordered sandwiches. When she left, Chris laced his fingers together on the table top. “All right now. Talk time. Where have you been? What have you been doing?”
She glanced at Gabriel in his highchair. “Well, I had a baby. Obviously.” She gave a nervous laugh, expecting to be judged somehow less because of that.
“He’s a happy baby. You must be a great mom.”
Considering how bad a mother she’d once been, his compliment buoyed her. “Thanks. I’m trying.”
“Raising a baby alone can’t be easy.”
“It isn’t, but my parents help out some.” She handed the baby a toy to keep him occupied. “So tell me about you? I thought you’d be a missionary in India by now.”
“Those were my plans. The Lord had others. My mom was diagnosed with lupus, so I needed to stay close to home.”
“I’m sorry. I hope she’s doing okay.” Chris was all about family.
“Mom’s tough. She’s doing pretty well.”
“What about your brothers? I thought they lived in Williamsburg, too.”
“Mark does, but Sean’s in the military. Mark has four kids, including a set of triplets. I figured he had his hands full.”
She widened her eyes in pretend horror. “No kidding. One is a handful for me most of the time. Are you sorry you didn’t make it to the mission fields?”
“Not even a little. The Lord showed me something pretty cool. There are mission fields everywhere, even here in Williamsburg. And He’s such a good God. As soon as I made the decision to stay home, a new church plant opened up and asked me to take over the pastorate. It’s small but growing so I’m bi-vocational for now. And even that’s a good thing—a gift—because I can work here doing something else I love.”
“So everything worked out perfectly for you.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “Not everything. No luck yet finding the perfect woman. But I have a feeling God’s not finished in that department.”
Ashley let the sentence soak into her consciousness. For his sake, she hoped he didn’t mean what she thought he meant, but just in case, she didn’t ask.
Instead she said, “I’m a Christian now, too.”
Saying the words still felt odd, but odd in a good way.
“I knew there was something different about you. Besides being a new mom.”
“Is it a good difference or a bad difference?”
“Definitely good. You’re more confident. More peaceful. Grown up, I guess.”
If only he knew how scared she was all the time.
“When I was pregnant with Gabriel, I remembered what you’d told me about Jesus, about how He loves us even though we’ve messed up. Then I had some problems after Gabriel was born.” Some of which she prayed he’d never heard about.
Christopher’s eyes flared alarm. “Are you okay?”
“Oh sure. I’m fine now.” Physically, anyway. “But the crisis opened my eyes and I gave my life over to Him. I figured He could run it a lot better than I had.”
“This is awesome, Ash. The best news ever.”
Though she’d expected nothing less from Chris, she felt a little self-conscious. She might be a Christian, but she was far from perfect like Chris. “It’s all still new, but I know I made the right choice.”
“Yeah. Absolutely.” He leaned forward as though he wanted to touch her but instead kept his elbows on the rough-hewn wooden table. The deep spirituality that had marked him as a target for both ridicule and respect at Tarkington flowed from him. He had always had a passion for God that she was only just now beginning to understand.
“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” he said. “And all that time whenever I talked about Jesus, you acted bored.”
“Not bored, really. Uncomfortable and puzzled. I just didn’t get it. But I was listening, too. You had something none of the rest of us had. A sense of purpose, a sense of who you were and what you wanted out of life.”
“Oh, I had my doubts at times, especially at Tarkington.”
“You?”
“Sure. It’s not easy being the odd man out.”
“I suppose not.” In truth, she’d never considered how difficult it must have been for him. He’d never complained, but he’d also never had the money for the kinds of clothes and car and entertainment the rest of them enjoyed.
She’d had all that but still lacked the one thing he did have: happiness.
“So what are your big plans for the future?”
She hitched one shoulder. “To raise my son and hopefully to work my way into the head designer’s job here someday. I’m entering the Independence Day contest with some of my best work. If I can win that, I’ll automatically be invited to stay on as an apprentice.”
The Independence Day Committee was holding a design contest this year in conjunction with the usual celebrations. Quilts, clothing, hats and any number of other stitched goods could be submitted by contestants around the globe. The prize winner could choose between a cash prize or an apprenticeship with the museum. Ashley wanted the coveted apprenticeship badly.
“You always did have a sense of style.” Chris tilted back in his chair, fingers absently rubbing the condensation from his root beer bottle. “I remember some of the outfits you put together. The floppy old hats and scarves and crazy color combinations you wore. A total individualist.”
She’d been dying for attention while trying to hide the scared, confused Ashley behind her crazy costumes. She understood that now.
“When your sister is a beautiful model that everyone goes ga-ga over, you have to do something to stand out.”
“You’re every bit as beautiful as Samantha.”
“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”
“Take it anyway. You always did sell yourself short.”
“And you were the nicest guy on campus.”
“Well, you know what they say about nice guys,” he joked. “Last place.”
She laughed. “Not true. Look at you.”
A funny expression crossed his face, but before he could say more, the waitress brought their fo
od. Gabriel slapped the top of his highchair and made excited baby noises.
“Don’t you ever feed this kid?” Chris softened the question with a grin.
“Trust me, he eats all the time. He loves food.” As was evidenced by his chubby cheeks and thrashing legs.
“Even those?” Chris gave a pretend shudder as he pointed at a bowl of English peas. “Poor kid. Mind if I give him a French fry?”
“You’ll be his best friend forever if you do.”
“Can’t beat a deal like that.” He dipped the potato in ketchup and offered it to the wiggling child. “What about us, Ashley? Are we sill friends?”
“I hope so.” Friends, she could handle.
“Cool. Very cool. Mind if I say grace?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” She folded her hands on the tabletop and closed her eyes.
After the quiet prayer, Chris winked at her. Then he popped a French fry into his mouth while handing another to Gabriel.
Some of the tension left Ashley’s shoulders. If Christopher only had friendship in mind, he was safe…and so was her secret. They’d both be just fine for a summer.
THREE
Christopher didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the charade. After two weeks of finding excuses to see her, he was going a little crazy. But Ashley still held part of herself aloof, as though she was afraid of letting him get too close. Like a butterfly in one of Williamsburg’s glorious gardens, she flitted just out of his reach.
She liked him. He was certain of that, but frankly, friendship wasn’t enough. Smiling ruefully, he shook his head. Friends. What had he been thinking when he’d said such a goofball thing? He had lots of friends. He wanted a wife. He wanted Ashley. He wanted to be her white knight whether she needed one or not—the man she looked to, the man she needed in her life.
And this time he refused to be the odd man out, the kid who didn’t fit. Here they were on equal footing.
He clicked the lock on the blacksmith shop and crossed the short distance to Ashley’s cozy cottage. Last night, he’d weaseled an invitation to her place for spaghetti. Tonight it was lasagna. She was a horrible cook, but he would have eaten dirt and asked for seconds to see her smile.
He’d also promised his unbiased opinion on the historical gown she was hand-stitching for the July Fourth contest. Never mind that he was completely ignorant on the matter—he’d use any excuse to spend time with Ashley and little Gabriel.
Behind the heavy drapes of her living quarters, a light glowed. He lifted his knuckles to knock but before he could, Ashley yanked the door open.
“Get in here, quick.” She plucked his shirt sleeve and tugged him inside.
He cast a furtive look behind him. “Don’t tell me. The British are coming—again.”
“No, silly, I want to show you something.” She pointed to Gabriel, who stood hanging on to the couch, fat knees bobbing up and down in a baby dance. In a very short period of time, the little boy’s constant smile and sweet nature had easily won him over, and it hadn’t taken much. He was a sucker for kids.
Ashley motioned him toward the couch where she went down on her haunches in front of the baby and held out both arms. “Come to Mama, sugar pie.”
Gabriel’s bouncing stopped while he considered the request, but he didn’t turn loose of the couch. Ashley tried again. “Come on, baby. Show Chris what a big boy you are. Walk to Mommy.”
Still the baby didn’t budge. The situation would have been funny if Ashley hadn’t looked so disappointed. “He took some steps not five minutes ago, and now he won’t do it.”
Chris squatted down and held out his arms. “Come on, champ. Show off for your Mama.”
To his surprise, Gabe’s eyes lit up and he stretched one hand in Chris’s direction, hanging onto the couch with the other. In the next instant, he let go completely and toddled two steps into Chris’s waiting arms.
“He did it, he did it,” Ashley squealed. Chris knew exactly how she felt. Clasping Gabriel to his chest and laughing, he pivoted toward the excited mommy. With a whoop, she threw her arms around both the baby and him. Reflexively, he pulled her close.
The next thing he knew he was drowning in eyes as soft as brown velvet.
Was it his nearness that sent her pulse tick-ticking against her collarbone? Or the thrill of seeing her baby walk?
Just in case it was both, he murmured, “Ash.”
The corners of her lips tilted upward. She didn’t move away, just held his gaze with hers.
And in that sweet, celebratory moment, Chris knew that this was meant to be his family. He, Ashley and Gabriel.
But before it could happen, he needed a small miracle. He needed Ashley to love him, too.
Ashley felt the rumble of Christopher’s merry laughter give way to the steady thud-thud of his heartbeat. This close, the gentle scent of shower soap and the strength of arms that wielded a smithy’s hammer were a powerful combination—and a reminder that Chris might be a friend, but he was also a man.
She started to pull away, but Chris held fast.
“Ash,” he said again, eyes searching hers, sculpted smile questioning.
He wanted to kiss her.
Not good. Not good at all.
Especially since she struggled with the longing to place her palm against his strong, square jaw and let him. But she liked him too much to go there. That was the trouble. She liked him way too much to ruin his life with the scandal that surrounded her.
Gently, so as not to hurt his feelings more, she transferred her arms from Chris to her son, putting the focus on Gabriel. Chris got the message and tilted back on his heels, still watching her.
While she fiddled with Gabriel’s downy blond curls, Chris spoke quietly. “I have a confession to make.”
Her gaze flicked up to his and back down to her son.
“Sounds serious.”
“Remember a few weeks ago when I said I wanted us to be friends?”
Her fingers stilled. “Yes.”
“That wasn’t exactly true.”
Ashley’s heart skipped a beat. Either Chris had judged her and found her wanting, or worse, he hadn’t. Either way, she was in trouble. She opted for what she deserved—judgment.
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” Chris’s voice remained soft, the tone mesmerizing. The muscles in Ashley’s shoulders, already stiff from hours over a needle and thread, bunched to a spasm.
Gabriel wiggled loose and crawled onto Chris’s knee. As if he hardly noticed his actions, Chris bounced the baby up and down. Ashley cast around for something to say but her brain, like a drained battery, no longer functioned.
“Friendship is a good start, Ash,” Chris said. “And I want that for us. But I want more.”
The skittering pulse stopped and restarted.
“I don’t understand.” Or maybe she did. And the idea scared her out of her mind. Regardless of her feelings or of his, what he wanted was impossible… .
“Here’s the deal.” Strong, calloused fingers found hers and squeezed. “I let you get away once before. I’d be a fool to let it happen again.”
Fighting off a futile surge of hope, Ashley shook her head. Chris the Christian, the nice guy turned minister, hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. She was no prize. She wasn’t the same innocent girl he’d known at Tarkington. As much as she liked him, she couldn’t let him do this to himself.
She tried to tease away the seriousness. “Oh, no you don’t, Christopher Sullivan. No fair changing the rules mid game.”
“I’m serious, Ashley.”
“Get real. You have a ton of women sending messages your way every day. I’ve seen them in the blacksmith shop,
on the streets. You don’t need me.”
He drew in a ragged breath and blew it out. The puff of air stirred Gabe’s curls. The baby gurgled.
“Wrong. I do need you.”
Yeah, like he needed to stick his hand into an open fire.
She was stuck between telling a lie—which was a sin—and moving their relationship into a new realm, which would also be a sin. She didn’t know what to do.
“I care about you, Chris. It’s just that…”
His mouth formed a hard line. “What? My bank account’s not big enough for a Harcourt?”
“No.” She grabbed his shirt collar. “Don’t think that. Don’t ever think that. I’m worried about you, not me.”
“Worried about me? Why? What are you talking about?”
Dismayed to have blurted out the worry, she tilted away and grew quiet. “I have a baby, Chris. You’re a pastor.”
His expression went rock hard. “So?”
She flushed red hot. “Don’t be naïve. It matters.”
“Not to me. The way I look at it, everyone makes mistakes. Some are just more obvious than others.” He glanced down at the baby on his knees. “And to tell the truth, it’s kind of hard to look at this little guy and even think the word mistake.”
“I know,” she said softly. Gabriel wasn’t a mistake, but she had made plenty that Christopher didn’t know about. “I just think we’d be better off as friends, that’s all.”
If only he knew how despicable she really was, he wouldn’t even want that much.
“Don’t you believe in second chances?”
Couldn’t he see how damaging a relationship with her could be to his career as a minister? “I don’t think so.”
“What about the second chance Christ gave you?”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?” he asked.
She didn’t know.
Eyes narrowed in thought as though some grand scheme took shape inside his brilliant mind, Christopher said, “Give me the rest of the summer to prove you wrong.”
When she hesitated, torn between what she wanted and what she knew was best, he laughed and tapped her on the chin. “A couple of months. That’s all I’m asking. I might be worth it.”
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