Everyday Blessings

by Jillian Hart

  No. The Bible’s leather cover was worn smooth from use and the pages whispered open as she flipped to the Book of Peter, then the chapter and, her heart jack hammering, to the verse.

  You should be known for the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.

  That was it. The final falling. She couldn’t seem to stop her affection for William from intensifying. Every dream rose up from her soul, and the wish that someday, maybe, William might feel this way for her, too.

  Chapter Twelve

  As she tried to get some work accomplished in her studio on her grandmother’s property, the only thoughts she had were of William. He’d been stubbornly at the front of her mind since she realized she was falling in love with him. This made it impossible to concentrate properly on anything, including her work. The sketches she’d come up with for her new rain chime designs were not making her happy.

  Probably because she kept glancing at her watch every two seconds. William was on his way. He was supposed to be here in a while so they could go canoeing. It seemed as if she couldn’t think about anything but him. Or all the things she liked about him. It was a long, long list. So long, that she would probably sit staring into space until she was in the utter and complete dark and not even notice.

  The last thing she should be doing, anyway, was daydreaming about the wonderful attributes of William Corey. She shouldn’t be daydreaming at all, right? Well, she wasn’t sure, since she’d never been prone to daydreaming before. She’d always been levelheaded, but she’d never been secretly in love before.

  Her sisters had guessed. What if he had? That thought sent her into total panic. Probably, if he thought she’d fallen in love with him, he wouldn’t be coming with a canoe and a picnic, right?

  That lessened her panic, but she had a greater problem. Somehow, she had to keep her feelings for him secret. That meant, she had to keep the affection out of her voice, out of her words and expressions. While, at the same time, trying not to wonder if he was feeling this, too.

  William. She knew he’d arrived a moment before she heard the pad of his shoes on the cement outside. It was as if her soul turned toward him in acknowledgment. That’s how deeply he affected her.

  He filled the open doorway. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.”

  “It’s my grandmother’s property, although she doesn’t spend a lot of time here anymore.”

  “Who keeps up the garden?”

  “Spence, mostly, and I tend things when I can. Lately, it’s been hit-and-miss, but I usually spend a lot of time here. Since Gran won’t accept rent, I work it off unofficially.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” It was the only word William could think of to say. Seeing her again was like coming home. It was like watching dawn rise and knowing you had the whole sweet day ahead, full of possibilities. It felt right to walk right in, to stand beside her and look over her shoulder at her work on the long, scarred table. There was a big sketch pad and a careful row of descending-sized bowls, lake-gray and textured as if hammered pewter but, instead, it was glazed ceramics.

  “From the lake,” he realized.

  “This is my prototype. You’re early. It’s only eleven-thirty. Let me close up and find my tennies.” Like a morning breeze, she slipped from her stool and landed on her bare feet. She made no sound as she bent to drag a pair of pink sneakers from beneath the table. She slipped her feet into them and grabbed a baseball cap and sunglasses from the organizer against one wall.

  How did he tell her that he hadn’t intended to be thirty minutes early, it had just happened? Probably because he’d been eager to see her, to talk to her, simply to be with her. It was a comfort, he told himself, the same way it had been a comfort to sit with her family on Sunday. To feel as if he were a part of something again, even if on the outside looking in.

  She had a nice setup here, a potter’s wheel, an oven and a sink against the far wall. Wide wood-framed windows looked out at views on three of four walls, showing a riot of green garden, a long slope of meadow where quarter horses and paints grazed, and a wide span of gleaming river. But he was only noticing these things so intently because it gave him something to do besides focusing on Aubrey.

  He followed her outside into the heat and brightness and wind, and it was as if she were leading him by the heart.

  “You won’t guess what I’ve got for us,” she said over her shoulder as she traipsed up the pathway toward the gravel driveway where he’d parked. She stopped by the shade where a cloth-covered basket was tucked up against the outside wall of her studio.

  “I picked them from Gran’s garden and washed them. They should be dry and sun warmed.” She knelt to peek beneath the cloth. “Yep. I hope you like berries.”

  “I’ve been known to eat my share.”

  “Excellent.” Her smile made his soul sigh.

  “Where’s the launch?” He hadn’t spotted it when he’d come in; mostly he’d wanted to find her first. He opened the passenger door for her and as she brushed close, bringing with her the scent of fabric softener and strawberries, his senses filled with her. Her beauty, her gentleness, her graceful movements, her peaceful presence.

  “Thanks for doing this with me,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion, raw with honesty. “It means a lot to me to have you here like this.”

  “For me, too.”

  She eased onto the seat, and their gazes met. Locked. William realized he felt renewed. The morning seemed more joyful, the sun more cheerful and the wind more refreshing when he was with her. He was simply glad it was. It had been a long time coming, but he was finally out of the dark of his life, starting to live again. While he would never be the same or forget what he’d lost, it felt good to appreciate this life. This day.

  This friendship.

  Perfect peace. That’s what it was like floating the river with William. Aubrey tried to take it all in and memorize each detail—the clear, gurgling river, the amber grasses drying on the riverbanks, the rustling cottonwoods stretching overhead and their dappled shade. But really, all of that was background. William was seated behind her on the board seat. The sun was behind them and she stayed in his broad-shouldered shadow. And felt protected.

  Was she dazzled? Yes. One hundred percent.

  “Look up ahead.” William leaned close to speak against her ear. “The canyon’s coming up around this bend.”

  His nearness brightened her. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the secret love she felt down deep and hidden, where it belonged.

  “Would you do me a favor?”

  Anything, her heart answered with sheer devotion. Why couldn’t she hold back these feelings?

  “Would you mind digging into the basket? I’ve got my camera in there. I want to take a few shots.”

  “Sure.”

  Their fingers touched and she felt it all the way to her soul—and pretended she didn’t. She tried hard to concentrate on the music of the river lulling them around a wide sweeping curve and offering an even more breathtaking view. A sweeping green meadow dotted with cheerful yellow sunflowers, vibrant coneflowers and crimson Indian paintbrush swept up the reaching hills on either side of the river.

  “Look.” William eased the paddle out of the water and leaned so close she could feel his heart beat. “Up there, near that stump.”

  She was overwhelmed by him. So out of her realm of experience. Tender feelings kept rising up until all she could feel was joy. All around her sunlight gleamed on calm waters and smiled down on the flowers. She still didn’t see what William had spotted until he brushed his hand with hers and gestured. There, barely taller than the fat seed-heavy tips of the wild grasses, was a tiny fawn. Soft and downy, the delicate creature lay perfectly still. Its soft brown coat was sprinkled with snowy-white speckles. Its dainty ears pricked in their direction. Big chocolate eyes studied them with innocent wonder.

  Aubrey felt William behind her and heard the board seat
creak with his weight as he leaned in for the shot. The man-made click of the shutter, as quiet as it was, was a shock in the peaceful lull. The fawn didn’t move, but another had risen up out of the grass to stand and stare beside its twin. Identical little faces studied the intruders. William’s shutter continued to click until a soft sound came from the edge of the meadow, and the fawns blurred into motion. In three bounds they were gone from sight, disappearing into the shelter of the trees.

  “Breathtaking,” William whispered, his camera silent.

  Yes, breathtaking was the word. The connection she felt with him was not superficial, but deeper—one of the soul. She’d never felt like this before in her life. It was a terrifying combination of complete vulnerability, peaceful companionship. Being with William was like having all her best blessings rolled up into one. William was the man she’d always hoped to fall in love with—a strong, kind man who saw her, who accepted her and respected her, and who would never let her down.

  She was so in love with him. And if she wasn’t careful, then it was going to show. William would know. And, what if he didn’t feel this, too? What if he never would?

  William panned with his camera for a few more shots but didn’t take any. He studied her over the viewfinder. “Good thing I brought this. I almost left it at home.”

  “You got both of the fawns?”

  “Yep. Talk about perfect timing, huh? You know, I’m taking pictures again.”

  “I noticed.” There was so much she didn’t dare let herself say. She held back all the feelings in her heart with every last ounce of her might. “You have to be glad to be working again.”

  “It’s all because of you.”

  The ability to speak completely left her. All she could do was manage a nod. Did he know how amazing he was? Graced by light, guarded by the silent trees like loyal sentries behind him, he dazzled her. He was everything good and decent and right in a man. Everything a girl could dream of.

  Everything she had ever dreamed of.

  “Aubrey, you’ve been real quiet. Are you okay?”

  She twisted around and there it was, the concern on his handsome face. Why did that make pain slice through her heart? “I’m good. It’s just hot. I didn’t expect it to be quite this hot.”

  “It’s a scorcher. Want some water?” He pulled a small bottle of water out of his pack. “Here.”

  She reached to take it, doing her best to avoid his fingers with hers and his smile. “Just what I need. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing.”

  William eased back on the bench and watched as she took a sip of water. Having her with him today was like a gift. She improved his day. She was becoming his inspiration, apparently, since he had his camera with him again. Powerful affection filled him. Overwhelmed him. Carried him away like the current guiding them. He didn’t know where this strong caring was coming from or why. Perhaps it was gratitude that she was here.

  He reached for the little bucket of berries she’d brought. “Do you mind?”

  “It’s why I brought them.”

  Her smile did him in—made his world shift and blur. It was like changing a lens—there was that flash of a moment before his eyes adjusted as he brought a scene into crisp focus. When he saw clearly again, he had a handful of ripe, juicy strawberries and Aubrey bent close. Her silken strands of hair had escaped her ponytail, brushing his jaw.

  He was distantly aware of the sides of the small canyon rising up around them, and the echoing sound of the water against the tall, ever-rising walls.

  Concentrate on the scenery, Will, he told himself, but even his own thoughts came distantly, for there was only Aubrey. She was all he could see. Her rose-petal-soft skin and gentleness and heart. Her fingertips brushed him as she took a berry from the few in his hand. He could smell the sweet strawberry scent on the air between them and, without thought, he cupped her chin with his free hand. He’d surprised her; her violet-blue eyes widened and searched his.

  Overwhelming tenderness for her pummeled him like a blow to his chest. Or maybe that was simply his heart unbreaking. Crisp, keen-edged affection overwhelmed him, pulling him along like gravity to the river. He leaned close and then closer, unable to stop this new, all-consuming feeling for her. His mouth hovered a scant inch over hers. “Okay?”

  “Yes.” The river’s current quickened, and the moment he brushed his lips to hers, the canoe began a slow, graceful spin. Aubrey closed her eyes. This was her first real kiss, and it was perfection. His kiss was soft and reverent and real. This was real and it was happening.

  He loves me, her heart whispered. Sweet devotion filled her until he was all she could see. Her head was spinning—no, that was the canoe. William broke the kiss, but neither of them moved. The canoe was drifting and scenery was going by. She had no idea what to say. Gratitude filled her when he smiled.

  He poured the berries into her palm. “I think I’d better right this boat before we crash into the bank.”

  “Crashing would be bad.” It was all she could think of to say. She watched as he slipped the oar into the water. She should help him. She was perfectly capable of paddling, but she was frozen in place, so filled with rising hopes that she felt higher than the sun shining in the sky.

  Sometimes dreams really did come true, she thought, but her cell began to ring. Here? In the canyon? Then she realized they had drifted safely through. William had straightened them out and the main country road was in sight.

  Katherine’s cell number was on the display, so she answered it. “Hello?”

  “Jonas opened his eyes.” Katherine’s voice sounded rushed. “Dad said we should all get to the hospital.”

  That couldn’t be good news. Aubrey flipped her phone shut. “I’m sorry. Jonas—”

  “I heard.” William’s face had shuttered. For a moment, he looked as granite-hard and remote as the canyon walls, then he smiled at her, and the look he sent her was pure warmth.

  How could he have done such a thing? The weight of it nearly destroyed him as he rowed back to the launch and hurried straight to the hospital. William couldn’t even guess at what Aubrey was thinking of him; strain showed on her face. Of course, she had Jonas and her family on her mind, but beyond that, was she mad at him? Disappointed in him?

  Why wouldn’t she be? He was angry and disappointed in himself. Kissing her like that. What had he been thinking? That was the problem. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d acted on pure tender feelings he didn’t even know were there. He liked her, sure he did. He cared for her very much.

  Maybe too much.

  Now, had he ruined everything good in his life?

  They were at the hospital. He swung into the half circle to let Aubrey out.

  “I’ll park and be up,” he said, knowing it wasn’t the time to say more.

  “All right.” She avoided his gaze.

  Did he blame her? No. Not one bit. He couldn’t stop the heavy weight of regret from settling on his chest like a two-hundred-pound barbell. He didn’t know what to say as he watched her unlatch her seat belt and open the door. Again, she didn’t look at him when she closed the door. Walking away, she seemed so somber. Alone.

  No, maybe it was his loneliness he felt. The sobering knowledge that he’d messed up the best blessing he had in his life—Aubrey’s friendship.

  He parked and hiked through the echoing corridors of the hospital to the waiting room he’d visited before. He kept going over and over in his mind how he could fix this. How he could reassure Aubrey that he had nothing but respect for her and how important their friendship was to him. She was a sensible woman. She was bound to understand, right?

  Right.

  The moment he saw her, he could read it on her face. The news about Jonas was good. There was only relief and joy sparkling in her clear violet-blue eyes. She shone with gladness from the inside out; he could see all the love she had for her family. She was hugging an older woman, and talking with Katherine at the same time. Their excited conversation, wh
ile low, resonated through the solemn corridors like sunshine.

  A sunshine that seemed to dim when Aubrey spotted him. “William.”

  Yeah, that’s what he thought. Kissing her had been the wrong thing to do. The elation filling her up had dimmed, and his heart right along with it. Stiffly he headed in her direction. “I take it Jonas is going to be all right?”

  “Danielle says he’s foggy and confused, but that’s not out of the ordinary. They’ll know more after some testing, but he’s awake and he’s out of danger. He’ll be able to go home.”

  Sometimes stories ended happily, and William was thankful that this was one of those times. “What a relief for Danielle. What about the kids?”

  “Ava’s fiancé, Brice, is watching them so we could all be here.” She said nothing more and silence fell between them. “I’m sorry our canoe trip was cut short.”

  “There couldn’t be a better reason.”

  He seemed so distant, Aubrey thought. The hard look was back. He was stony with no hint of emotion. The tenderness she’d seen on his face, after their kiss, had faded slowly. The shadows returned to his eyes.

  It could be because of the hospital, she realized and her heart broke for him. There was no possible way for him to be here and not to remember his losses. That had to be part of it, but she knew without words that he was moving emotionally away from her. His heart felt more and more distant from hers. She felt those shining dreams within her fade a bit.

  “Are you uncomfortable here?” she finally broke the silence to ask. “We could go down to the cafeteria. Or the chapel.”

  “No, I just need some air.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and looked over her shoulder at her family clustered together, now that Danielle had emerged from her meeting with the doctors. “You belong with your family. I’ll wait for you out front.”