Will had always believed he couldn’t marry without love. He still didn’t want to, but if all the other elements were there, would it be wrong? Did that automatically doom the relationship to failure? How did you know you were in love anyway?
He’d asked Chance, but he hadn’t been any help. “You just know,” his younger brother had proclaimed with honest sincerity. Will guessed Chance was right, for himself anyway. Nate wasn’t any help, either. He’d fallen in love with Jenna when he was fifteen, and she’d been the only woman for him ever since.
Megan shifted slightly and laid her hand on her stomach, but she didn’t wake up. The baby must be wiggling around again.
Lord, I need some help here. Guidance and wisdom. If he married Megan, it needed to happen before the baby came. This child deserved to have two parents when she was born. He also didn’t want to have to adopt her, like Nate had done with Zach. It hadn’t been too big of a hassle because Jimmy Don had agreed to it right away. Still, life would be much simpler if his name was on the birth certificate.
Sweet Baby Callahan. Needed a little work. Will smiled and glanced back at the TV. The Rangers had just made a home run, and here he was thinking about baby names. Sure as shootin’ his single days were quickly coming to an end.
And that was more than all right with him.
He noticed the Bible and spiral notebook sitting beside the recliner. Megan had bought her own Bible last week. At her request, Pastor Brad had given her some notes and Scriptures to read to help her learn about Jesus.
He felt a little Holy Spirit nudge to see if she had any questions about what she’d been studying.
She stirred, stretched, and tried to sit up straighter. He moved his arm to make it easier for her. “Hi, Sleeping Beauty.”
Leaning her head against the couch, she looked up at him. “Have I been out for long?”
“About twenty minutes. A nice little catnap.”
“Thanks for letting me snooze.”
“Sure.” Like he was going to make her stay awake. He motioned toward the Bible. “Been studying?”
“Whenever I have time. Not so much the past few days. When I stop working I fall asleep if I try to read.”
“I’ve done that plenty of times. I try to read my Bible when I first get up, but that doesn’t always work if I’m still groggy. Do you have any questions about anything you’ve read?”
“Is it really so simple? All I have to do to be saved is to believe that Jesus died for me? That he paid for my sins by giving his life?”
“Pretty much. You need to believe that he’s the only Son of God.” She nodded, making him smile. “And that he came back to life, or in Christian parlance, he rose again. That’s how he defeated death and gives us eternal life.”
“I believe all that.” She leaned forward rather clumsily and picked up her glass of water, taking a long drink. When she settled back, she scooted over a bit and turned toward him. “The Bible says that’s what happened, and Pastor Brad says the Bible is the Word of God. God’s instruction manual to us.”
“That’s right.”
“I know I’m a sinner, and I asked God to forgive me. But don’t I have to do anything else? Nothing is free. How do we earn God’s love and forgiveness?”
Will took a moment to sip his iced tea, gathering his thoughts as he set the glass on the end table. “We don’t have to earn it. Can’t earn it. Had you done anything to cause God to save you from the tornado?”
“No. I asked him to save us, begged him to not let my baby die. I sure didn’t deserve it, but Sweet Baby was innocent. I’d never had anything to do with God. I’d never prayed in my life.” She smoothed the edge of her top where the hem was turned up. “Mrs. Hoffmann believed in him and talked about how loving he was. I didn’t know if he was real or just a myth that she clung to. But I had nowhere else to turn.” She broke away from Will’s gaze, her expression thoughtful, and rested her hands in her lap. “I had no one else to believe in.
“Up until that day on the highway, I’d never had any reason to think God cared about me. Nobody except Mrs. Hoffman ever did, so why should he?” Looking at him again, she took a deep breath. “You’ve probably figured out that life was tough when I was a kid.”
He reached over and curled his fingers around hers. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
She hesitated and lowered her eyes. “The best meals I had were the ones we got at homeless shelters. The only thing I remember Mom cooking was scrambled eggs, when I was five. She showed me how to do it. From then on, if I wanted eggs—or if she wanted them—it was up to me to make them.”
Will stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. “How did you reach the stove?”
“Climbed up on a chair. Just like I did to wash the dishes. We lived in a low-rent apartment complex for a while, and the manager left a chair in the laundry room so I could put clothes in the washing machine and dryer.” Somehow, she managed a smile. “Chairs are handy things.”
“Yes, they are.” He remembered Jenna standing on a chair when she was little, helping their mom make cookies. She’d even had one at the sink to help with the dishes—back when she thought it was fun. But his mother or Ramona had always been there to supervise, to make sure she was safe. And to help.
“When I was real little, before I started school, we usually had some cold cereal on hand, but not always milk. Most of the time there were eggs, bread, and margarine because Mom liked eggs with toast and jelly. Sometimes she’d make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Or as soon as I could, I’d make it myself. I ate a lot of macaroni and cheese. A box of it would last a couple of days. And Top Ramen.”
“No meat? Fruit and vegetables? No candy?”
“Sometimes she’d get a few bananas, but no vegetables. She hated veggies. She avoided sweets because she was afraid she’d get fat. All she had going for her was her looks. So she rarely bought me candy or cookies. Maybe that’s why I love desserts now.”
“Or it could be because you make such great ones.”
She grinned and moved back around to put her feet on the coffee table again. “Thanks. But if I didn’t like ’em, I wouldn’t go to the trouble of making them.”
“Didn’t she have money for food? Couldn’t she get food stamps or something?”
“She did get food stamps. They used to come as coupons, and when you bought something, you’d get the change if it didn’t take the whole amount. As soon as she got the new allotment, she’d go to several stores and buy a little something in each one.”
“So she could get cash back.”
She nodded and absently rubbed the bottom of her left foot with her other one. “Party and beer money. When the state switched to a debit-type card, only the amount actually spent could be deducted from the account. So she’d buy groceries for someone else, and they’d pay her seventy-five cents on the dollar.”
“Now I understand why you were trying so hard to make it on your own, even though there was help available.” He’d done some checking. The state had special programs to help low-income pregnant women.
“The day of the tornado, I had exactly fifty-five dollars and twenty-one cents to my name. I’d already decided that I had to find a shelter because I had just enough gas to get to Abilene. I’d have to fill up the tank again to look for work. If I didn’t find a job within a few days, I would have applied for emergency aid. Either way, I was going to apply for medical assistance. I’d been foolish not to do it months earlier. When you insisted on taking me to the hospital, I was embarrassed that I hadn’t already done it.”
“I know. That made me want to help you even more.” He ran back over the beginning of their conversation. “Getting back to your question—salvation is a gift. We can’t do anything to earn it, but we do have to believe it and acknowledge it, which you’ve done. I suspect, in your own way, you’ve already asked him to be Lord of your life.”
When she frowned slightly, he tried to explain better. “When you make Jesus Lord of
your life, it means that he’s in charge. You want to live the way he wants you to, and you trust him to guide you by the Holy Spirit and through what you learn in Scripture. You pray and try to get it right. And when you don’t, you ask him to forgive you and you try again. He knows we aren’t perfect. He’s the only one who was. But he does expect us to keep trying to do what’s right and live the way he teaches us to. And love him. That’s at the top of his wish list because he loves us.”
“I haven’t put it in those exact words, but I do ask him to guide me. I want to live the way he wants me to, but I think I have a long way to go.”
“Believe me, sugar, so do I. Your heart is right, and you’re doing the best you can. That’s all any of us can do.”
“That’s a big relief. I see all of you helping with things at church and in the community, and I was afraid I was messing up because I just sit there like a bump on a log.”
“No one expects you to pitch in. You’re pregnant, remember?”
She laughed softly. “How can I forget. I just don’t want people thinking I’m a slouch.”
“I’m no expert on mamas-to-be, but I’ve noticed that even the ones most involved in church activities cut way down about this point. Their main focus is staying healthy, not getting too tired, and delivering a strong, healthy baby.” He slid his arm around her and gently pulled her against his side. “And that’s what you should be doing. No more big projects.”
“There you go, being bossy again.” She slipped her fingers between his.
“You know I’m right.” He couldn’t resist a little teasing. “As usual.”
“I don’t buy that as usual part, but I’ll admit you were right on the wedding cake. It was scary-close to being too much to handle. I won’t tackle another one for six months, at least.”
“People will remember it. I have no doubt that you’ll have folks clamoring for you to make theirs when you’re ready to start up again. That’s when small town gossip pays off. You let a few people know you’re back in business, and before the week’s out everybody within twenty miles will know it. When you put it all together tomorrow, it will be spectacular.”
She tipped up her head, looking at him with a happy smile. “It is amazing, isn’t it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He brushed her cheek with his fingertips, and his heart rejoiced at the soft welcome he saw in her eyes. “And so are you.”
Leaning down, he did what he’d longed to do for weeks. He kissed her with all the tenderness in his heart.
18
The next morning in the church fellowship hall, Megan shoved the last of four twisted crystal-like plastic pillars straight down into the second layer of the cake. “Almost there,” she whispered. Carefully lifting the separator plate holding the third tier, she placed the small feet on the bottom of the plate into the openings of the pillars.
Turning to Will, she pointed to the four remaining pillars and the top tier. “Your turn.”
He took a step back and glanced nervously at the cake. “Are you sure you want big-fingered, clumsy me to do it?”
“I’m not worried. Anybody who can build a little Lego car can handle a plate. Besides, you can reach it a lot easier than me. I’m liable to topple the whole thing if I try it.”
“Too short.” He nodded sagely.
“And too fat. I’m afraid Sweet Baby will kick it over.” As she hoped, he laughed. That should help him relax and not drop anything.
“Don’t worry if you knock off a flower or stick a finger in the icing. I can fix it when I replace the two rosettes I broke.”
“Okay. Tell me what to do.”
“I thought you were watching me.”
“I was.” He grinned unrepentantly. “You. I wasn’t paying much attention to the details of what you were doing.”
She rolled her eyes and motioned him closer. “See the little marks on top of the cake?”
He nodded. “Is that where I put the posts?”
“Yes. I marked each tier with the feet on the next size plate before putting the cakes on them.”
“Smart.”
“It was in the instructions.”
“So? Not everybody reads instructions.”
She almost pointed out that was a male thing, but decided it would lead to a playful argument. One that probably would be fun any other time, but she needed to focus on the task at hand. “Just push them straight down until they’re resting on the plate. Then set the next plate on top of them.”
He picked up one of the plastic pieces and inspected it. “The foot on the plate fits inside here?”
“You got it. You learn fast, Mr. Callahan.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am,” he drawled. He followed her directions, putting everything together precisely.
“Perfect. Now to replace the rosettes that fell off.” Using the pastry bag, she squeezed a dollop of icing in the empty spot on the first layer and another on the second. Then she took a spare rosette from the plastic container and carefully stuck it onto the cake. She did the same with the second one. After closing the container, she set it in the box with the pastry bag and all the other things she’d brought along in case she needed them.
“Now, add this to the top. Lindsey’s mom saved it from her wedding cake.” She handed him the white plastic circular platform with a bride and groom standing arm in arm beneath an arch of tiny silk flowers. It was in remarkable condition. Lindsey loved old things, especially family heirlooms. It was perfect. “Center it and press down a little so the icing secures it.”
Suddenly, a wave of sadness surprised her. She’d never have a wedding cake or a fancy wedding. Despite Will’s sweet words and his interest, she knew she’d never have a wedding at all. She’d learned long ago that dreams didn’t come true. She’d be a fool to allow herself even the tiniest glimmer of hope that this one would.
Will completed the task, caught her hand, and drew her back a few steps to have a good view of the cake as a whole. It was so beautiful, Megan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He slid his arm around her waist and gave her a gentle hug. “It really is amazing.”
“Thank you.” She stared at her creation in wonder. “I did it. I really did it.” Smiling up at him, she slid her arm around his waist too. “But I couldn’t have put it together without your help. Or your encouragement yesterday. I was about to have a total meltdown.”
“See, we make a good team.”
“We did on this. Did you bring your camera?”
“Yep. Got it right here.” He patted his shirt pocket.
She moved her arm and stepped away from his hold. “I need to clean up the mess before we take a picture.”
He reached the cake table before she did and picked up the box with all her supplies. “You wanted this in the kitchen, right?”
“Yes, in case something happens and I need to make another repair before the reception. I’ll put the cake boxes in there too. They’ll want to save the top tier, and there might be some cake left over.”
“Don’t bet on it.” He followed her into the kitchen. “If a cake is good, some of us aren’t shy about taking seconds if there are pieces sitting there. If yours is half as good as it looks, it will disappear pronto. It’s the prettiest wedding cake I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you.” She set the cake boxes back in a corner of the counter. “But have you seen many wedding cakes?”
“Seen and tasted.” He put her supplies alongside the boxes. “I’ve been to so many weddings since high school that I’m an expert.”
“On weddings or cakes?” She led the way through the door, then walked beside him to the long rectangular tables.
“Mostly food in general, though I could tell you that you don’t have a Texas wedding outdoors at four in the afternoon in August, and that nobody needs ten bridesmaids and groomsmen. A normal wedding would be half over by the time everybody gets down the aisle.”
“So how many have you gone to?” She moved the groom’s cake ov
er a couple of inches so it was centered on its table.
“More than I can count.”
Megan looked up, expecting to see that teasing glint in his eye that always made her smile. He was serious.
She didn’t know what to say. She had only attended two, both people she’d worked with. What a pitiful statement about her lack of friends.
“There were a few a year during college, and five the summer we graduated. The rest have been scattered out over the years. At the last one, Dalton and I were the only single guys our age there.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and slowly looked around the room. “By five o’clock all my buddies will be hitched. Not that it will be all that different. I’ve been the fifth wheel at most get-togethers for a while now.”
“Why don’t you take a date?” Surely he had a little black book—or a long list of available women in his cell phone.
He pulled his hands from his pockets. “I haven’t dated anyone in two years.”
“You’re kidding. Why not?”
“Nobody I wanted to go with.” He met her gaze. “Until now.”
The enormity of him escorting her to the wedding hit her. It would cause a gossip frenzy of major proportions. But that paled against the importance he placed on their relationship. She swallowed hard, then whispered, “Why me?”
“Because I—”
“Aha! Caught you.” Laughing, Jenna swept into the room, carrying a box of short vases filled with fresh bouquets to add to the centerpieces on the guest tables. Lindsey and Emily were right behind her with more.
Lindsey spotted the cake and let out a squeal that made Will laugh and shake his head. He winked at Megan. “I think she likes it.”
The three intruders practically tossed the boxes on a nearby table and raced across the fellowship hall. For a second, Megan thought Lindsey might plow right into the cake, but she stopped about five feet away, her mouth open in awe.
Tears misted the bride-to-be’s eyes. “It’s incredible. I knew it would be pretty, but it’s even better than I’d expected.” She turned and hugged Megan tightly. “Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have squeezed you so tight.”
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