Moonbeams: A Christian Romance Novel (The Lewis Legacy Series Book 5)

by JoAnn Durgin

  The other woman waved her hand. “Jesus gave up on me a long time ago and I’m going to ask you nicely to leave my apartment now. I have to get back to work before they fire me, anyway.”

  “Think about what we’ve said and know we’ll be praying for you,” Amy told her as they departed. “So will Mitch.” She relayed the name of their church and the street before Arielle soundly slammed the door behind them.

  “Here, you carry it. You earned the right,” Amy said, giving her the sculpture as they hurried to the elevator.

  Giddy with anticipation, Cassie could hardly wait to see Mitch’s reaction. Even to her untrained eye, she could appreciate the master craftsmanship and artistry of the sculpture. But when it came right down to it, it was a nice statue of a naked man holding a book. Her cheeks flushed when she realized how she’d been holding him. Goodness. Sculpture or not, she needed to watch where she placed her hands.

  Apparently noticing her awkwardness, Amy laughed. “Why do you think I wanted you to hold him? He’s quite the man, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is. Look out world, Cassie’s feeling empowered,” she said as they exited the elevator and flagged down a taxi outside Arielle’s apartment. She glanced over her shoulder a number of times as if she halfway expected Arielle to come running outside and snatch it from her hands.

  Glancing out the window as the taxi passed the endless skyscrapers en route to the townhouse, Cassie’s thoughts wandered to a long ago memory. She’d almost forgotten about it until the events of the last half-hour brought it to mind. “When I was in third grade, right after Christmas, Sally Reynolds grabbed my favorite doll I’d brought for show and tell. She threatened to drown her in a playground puddle.”

  Amy raised a brow. “What made you think of that?”

  “Arielle reminds me of Sally in some ways. That girl was meaner than spit, but I’d seen the way she looked at my doll. Grandma Thor gave her to me for Christmas. Sally didn’t want the doll so much as what it represented. What she lacked in her own life, I guess. I felt sorry for her, but Sally didn’t want my pity.”

  “Let me guess,” Amy said. “You gave Sally your doll.”

  Cassie nodded slowly. “I did, and I knew Grandma Thor would understand. Sally came from one of the best families in town. Goes to show it’s true that money can’t buy love or anything else. The last I heard, Sally’s married for the third time with no children. Sad, isn’t it?”

  Amy reached for her hand, squeezing it. “The Lord was working inside you even then. Preparing your heart and working through you. Have I told you today how wonderful you are?”

  Cassie smiled. “Thanks for sticking with me in that crazy scheme. The difference between Sally and Arielle, of course, is that there was no way I was going to allow Arielle to keep the sculpture. It’s a lot different than a doll and represents so much to your family.”

  They shared a smile.

  “I appreciate your taking the day off work to come with me,” Cassie said. “That was quite the adventure, wasn’t it?”

  “It worked, and Mitch will be thrilled. On behalf of the Jacobsen family, thank you, Cassie.” She gave her a quick hug.

  “Welcome. You may call me Detective Jacobsen.”

  Amy’s eyes grew wide. “Do you realize what you just said?”

  Cassie half-laughed, half-coughed. Oh, my. Glancing down at her lap, she marveled at how the ring sparkled in the reflected sunlight streaming through the windows of the taxi. “Blame it on the ring. I should probably take it off.” In her heart, she didn’t want to remove it, but it was for the best. Slipping it from her finger, Cassie tucked it back into her purse.

  “Do you think there’s a reason you’ve kept it all this time?” Amy asked. When Cassie hesitated, not sure she was ready to answer the question, Amy gave her an understanding smile.

  “What’s Mitch’s all-time favorite birthday meal?” Cassie said as the taxi driver dropped them off in front of the townhouse. She’d experimented with different recipes in the last two months, mostly easy, fail-proof recipes Rebekah and Winnie shared with her. With the exception of two burned casseroles, they’d turned out well. Maybe she shouldn’t get too proud of herself, but making them had helped boost her self-confidence.

  “Fix him plain old spaghetti and meatballs,” Amy said. “No fancy stuff for Mitch. He’s happy with anything, and he’s a pretty basic guy when it comes to his food. Mom usually comes for his birthday and fixes it for him, but she’s in Florida with some friends for a few weeks.”

  “Well, then, that’s what I’m going to fix him for dinner tonight. You and Landon are welcome to come.”

  “Thanks, but you two deserve a romantic evening alone. I’ll take you to Hanrahan’s Market and we’ll get everything you’ll need. Let’s run this prized commodity back inside where he belongs”—she nodded to the sculpture—“and then I’ll take you there. It’s only a short three-block walk.”

  Within minutes of entering the market, Cassie made new friends with the owner, Fred, his wife, Sandra, and their business partner, Akhil. Amy scooted around the small aisles of the store beside her, and together they selected the makings for a simple tossed salad. Amy told her Mitch loved a sliced hardboiled egg and sliced cucumber in his salad but wouldn’t want bacon bits and definitely no radishes or what he called “wilted, gross, rabbit food.”

  Next they selected bottled Italian dressing, a box of linguini, a jar of spaghetti sauce—homemade sauce sounded too risky—frozen meatballs and a loaf of Italian bread.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Cassie said. “This is fun.”

  “Now, for the piece de la resistance? Chocolate mousse. I have a recipe that’s easy peasy and Mitch absolutely loves it. It only takes four ingredients. When you’re ready to start on it later, call me and I’ll walk you through it.” Amy dropped a bar of Ghirardelli dark chocolate into her basket. “You use seven of the eight squares for the mousse and shave the last one as a garnish.” She patted Cassie’s arm. “Trust me. He’ll love you forever.”

  Cassie blushed at that comment and followed Amy to the dairy section where she picked up a carton of heavy whipping cream. “We might as well get eggs, too, since I never know what Mitch has on hand or if they’re expired.” Flipping open the lid of a carton of large eggs, Amy nodded with satisfaction. “These look good. Next we need sugar. The extra-fine stuff.” Within seconds, she’d added the sugar to Cassie’s basket. “There now. That should do it.”

  “Mitch said he’s going to try and get off early,” Cassie said as they walked back inside the townhouse with the grocery bags. “Amy, you don’t think he’ll mind me being here when he gets home, do you? I don’t want to come across as a stalker, but this will be the second night in a row where he comes home and—guess what?—Cassie from Alabama’s standing in the man’s kitchen.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s his dream come true.”

  “It is?”

  “Believe in yourself, Cass. You’re so good for Mitch, and I’m thankful my brother finally woke up to that fact.”

  “Thanks. To be honest, Mitch and I woke each other up. Um, that didn’t come out right.” Sometimes she needed to think things through before she opened her mouth.

  Amy’s smile relieved her worries. “All in God’s timing. I’m excited to see what He’s going to do in your lives.”

  They stacked the bags on the counter and started to remove the groceries. Cassie giggled when Sammie trotted over and nudged her leg. An insistent pay attention to me nudge. “How’s my sweet Sammie today?” Crouching to his level, she ruffled his ears and gave him a kiss. “Amy, before you leave, could you help me find a tablecloth for the dining room table and maybe some candles?”

  “Sure, as long as Mitch hasn’t moved them.” Two minutes later Amy returned to the kitchen with the items in hand. “Here you go. Do you need some wrapping paper for the sculpture?”

  Cassie considered the question for a minute. “I’d like to wrap a little sarong around him to
cover him up, but I don’t think Mitch would appreciate it.” Her grin escaped. “I’m sure I’ll figure out something.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Amy said. “You’ve proven yourself quite resourceful today.”

  Chapter 33

  “Happy birthday, Mitch.” An unexpected shyness rolled through her and Cassie clasped her hands behind her back as he entered the townhouse. True to his word, he’d left the office early and it was a few minutes after five o’clock.

  “Welcome home.” She bit her tongue. Maybe she shouldn’t act like a 1950s housewife waiting for her husband to come home. Wearing a pearl necklace and heels, no less.

  “I could definitely get used to this,” Mitch said. Pulling her into his arms, he gave her a sweet kiss. She liked how he kept the kisses light—except for the good-bye or good night kisses—as much for her sake as his. The man was so addictive that kissing him could easily become a habit that would be difficult enough to break when she left town. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, determined to enjoy their time together.

  “You’re spoiling me. Amy called. Sounds like you had fun today.” He shot her a wry grin. “Too bad Celeste couldn’t stay.”

  “No comment.” She wrinkled her nose.

  He laughed. “You’ve learned to be politically correct since coming to the big city.”

  “I think Celeste and I came to an understanding of sorts. Did she or Amy tell you about our little midnight swimming lesson?”

  “Celeste called me on her way out of town this morning. She sounded apologetic for whatever it was she said to you last night. She thinks you’re a quick study and sweet as pie.” His appreciative gaze swept over her. “She’s right. You look incredible, Cassie.”

  Her cheeks warmed. She wasn’t used to compliments from men, but coming from Mitch, she cherished them. Right after she’d returned to the townhouse with Amy, she’d called Louie to see if he could help her out for an hour. He’d dropped her off in front of a mid-priced department store and returned forty-five minutes later. She’d never really liked to shop because she’d never had much money to shop. But she always had an idea of what she wanted, and this time was no different. Her sage green and white skirt fell slightly below her knees, and she loved the silky, matching sage-colored blouse. On her feet, she wore beige wedge-heeled sandals since they boosted her height and made her legs appear longer.

  “Oh, wait. I have something for you.” Darting back out to the hall, Mitch hung his jacket on a hook and rolled his sleeves. When he picked up his briefcase and set it on the floor by the closet, she spied a gorgeous bouquet of a dozen roses in different colors, wrapped in cellophane and sitting on the floor. With a wide grin, he bowed low and presented them to her. It was his birthday and yet he was giving her a gift?

  “They’re so beautiful. Thank you.” Cassie buried her nose in the flowers, but they were damp and she was careful not to brush them against her blouse. She couldn’t resist teasing him. “I see you’re as indecisive as ever about which color to get.”

  “Ah, you could put that idea to rest if you’d pick a favorite color already. So, it’s my contention you’re the indecisive one.” He brushed a finger across the bridge of her nose. “You had some water on your nose. I think there’s a vase in the kitchen. Amy left it behind when she moved in with the hotshot publisher in case you’re thinking I get flowers on a regular basis.”

  He sniffed the air as he entered the kitchen. “You cooked for me?” Walking across the room, he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove. “Linguini? Now I know why you told me not to make a dinner reservation.”

  “I’m trying my best to make your favorite birthday dinner. Amy told me your mom usually made spaghetti and meatballs for your special day. Kind of hard to burn pasta, but don’t get too excited since it’s only tomato sauce from a jar. And frozen meatballs—heated up, of course. You can reserve comment until after you’ve tasted it. We have a salad, too. Can’t go wrong with salad, right?” The chocolate mousse was also chilling in the refrigerator. From what she’d sampled, it turned out fine. Maybe she wasn’t a total failure at cooking, after all.

  “Moonbeam, I could eat peanut butter out of a jar and it’d taste like the best thing I’d ever eaten if you’re sharing it with me.”

  “Stop it already,” she said, laughing. “Now you’re going overboard. I’ve set the table in the dining room. Why don’t you go have a seat and I’ll be in with our meal in a few minutes.”

  He peeked around the corner. “Candles? And are those rose petals scattered on the tablecloth?”

  She smiled. “On a whim at the market, I picked out a couple of roses. I thought sprinkling them on the tablecloth might be. . .romantic. You have to bear with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a boyfriend, if you could even call it that.” That thought stopped her. “Is that what you are, Mitch? My boyfriend?”

  He’d pulled out a cut crystal vase from beneath the sink and filled it with water. At her question, he placed the vase carefully on the table. “I want to be your boyfriend, Cassie, if you’ll allow me the honor.” He paused, as if gathering his thoughts. “Based on what I said last night at the restaurant, I think my intentions should be clear. You have to know how special you are in my life.”

  “Like I said, bear with me. The last time I had a boyfriend, I was worried about whether or not he’d ask me to the Friday night dance. This is uncharted territory.”

  “Didn’t you go out with Stone Bicklebong?”

  She stared at him. “Bicklebing.” Would he never get the name right? “And what on earth makes you think that?” Surely the man wasn’t still jealous of Stone for some unfounded, ridiculous reason.

  “Nothing. You two seemed pretty friendly at the restaurant that night.”

  “We went out a few times, yes, but if you must know, we decided we worked better as friends.” Tears pricked her eyes. “For that matter, I choose to be here with you, Mitch. You were honest with me about your past. You know, it’s not easy when I think about you. . .” She stopped and turned aside, determined not to cry in front of him. Why did she have to bring that up? Why did he? She’d never thought of herself as overly emotional, but this weekend seemed to be on overload.

  A moment later, she felt Mitch’s strong hands on her shoulders. He turned her around, but he didn’t pull her into his arms like she expected. Instead, he dropped his hands to his sides, his expression earnest. “Cassie, do you remember how—when we were sitting in the car together on that crazy morning in Houston—I told you I wished I could change my past? Well, I, um. . .” He ducked his head and ran a hand through his hair. When he raised his head, moisture shone in his eyes. “You’re an incredible woman of God, the type of woman I’ve always wanted to find. I’d give anything I own to be able to come to you without the sins of my past, but I can’t. All I ask is that you accept me as I am, a broken but forgiven man. Can you find it in your heart to do that?”

  All over again, she melted at how completely open and honest this man could be in expressing his emotions. “Mitch, you were forgiven a long time ago. But thank you for telling me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, resting his head on her shoulder.

  She smoothed her hands over his strong shoulders and hugged him tight. “You’re straight with God, and that’s most important. None of us are perfect. You’ve survived things in your life that most people can’t even fathom and emerged stronger from having lived through them.” Easing back, she made sure she had his eye contact. “If I pushed you away, if I kept searching for that so-called perfect man, I’d never find him. He doesn’t exist. I’ve never met a man like you. You steal my breath away with your sensitivity and compassion. And you always make me laugh. Remember what Doris said—a man who can make you laugh is. . .”

  “Afraid the sauce is going to burn.” Mitch darted to the stove.

  “Oh, no! Don’t open the lid. It might splatter all over your shirt!” Rushing over to stand beside him, she
swatted his hand aside and turned down the burner.

  “Now you’re manhandling me?”

  “Excuse me for trying to save your shirt. I saw the monogram before you rolled your sleeves. Spaghetti sauce can stain and I won’t be held responsible for killing anything by Brooks Brothers.”

  He laughed as she checked the oven temperature and slid the tray with the Italian bread inside. “Let me go put on some music and then I’ll help you bring everything out to the table.”

  Cassie followed him to the doorway, watching as he pulled out a record album from a nearby cabinet.

  “Miles Davis okay?”

  “Sure.” She’d heard the name but didn’t know any more except that he was a jazz musician. He removed the album from its sleeve and positioned it on the vintage turntable. The whole time, she held her breath, wondering if he’d discover the Lew Lawrie sculpture sitting on the ledge of the bookcase. If he didn’t see it by the time they finished their dinner, she’d do or say something to draw his attention to it.

  This will be fun. She walked back into the kitchen with a big smile of anticipation.

  “Cassie!”

  Chapter 34

  Mitch turned the sculpture in his hands. Unbelievable. Did Cassie have something to do with its sudden reappearance?

  She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking deceptively innocent and for all the world like she harbored a delicious secret. “Hmm?” Yes, she definitely knew something.

  “How. . .” He turned it upside down. Lew Lawrie’s original signature mark. “How. . .what. . .where?” Bringing it closer, Mitch studied it for nicks or damage. Still in mint condition, thank the Lord. “Is this—”