Sweetbriar Cottage

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Sweetbriar Cottage Page 18

by Denise Hunter


  Feeling giddy with his new decision, he sidled up to the door, out of Jack’s sight. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

  He heard a heavy sigh from beyond the metal scrollwork. “Come in, Noah.”

  “Isn’t this supposed to be anonymous?”

  “As you know, Lutherans don’t practice confession. Are you going to come in or are we going to talk through the door?”

  Noah opened the door, appreciating the weight and solidness of it even as his eyes fell on Jack, sitting behind his tidy desk.

  Jack folded his arms on his paperwork, frowning. “I realize you’re somewhat ignorant of the practices of various denominations, and though we don’t practice it in our own, private confession is a serious matter in the Catholic church, and as such—”

  Noah threw up his hands. “Oh, for pity’s sake, don’t start. I didn’t mean to make light. I’m just feeling a little crazy right now, and that door has always reminded me of a confessional. Even though I’ve never actually been to one. Anyway . . . I had to talk to someone, and you’re it. Am I interrupting anything?”

  Jack sighed. “Just my sermon preparation, but go on. I can see you’re about to bust.”

  “I’m going to ask Josie to marry me.” The words gushed out like water over a fall. Saying them out loud felt even better than thinking them. He knew he had a big, goofy smile on his face, and he didn’t care.

  He had plans to make. A ring to buy. He didn’t even know her size. Or how he’d ask her. It had to be perfect. He cleared his thoughts long enough to realize his friend had yet to respond.

  Jack’s face was inscrutable.

  “Well?” Noah said. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  Jack gave him a tight smile. “Why don’t you sit down?”

  “Okay . . .” He settled in one of the padded chairs opposite the ornate desk and planted his elbows on his knees.

  Jack clasped his hands. “This is awfully fast, isn’t it? How long have the two of you been dating? A few months?”

  “Five, to be exact. But sometimes you just know. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  Jack bristled. “Why’s that? Because ministers are somehow incapable of romantic feelings?”

  “Nooo . . . because you’ve never been in love.”

  “What’s the hurry? If God ordains, you’ll still love her six months or even a year from now.”

  “But that’s just it. If we know now, why wait? I’m ready to get started on the next phase of my life. Besides, I’m trying to be a gentleman here, and I’m running out of willpower, if you know what I mean. Better to marry than to burn with passion and all that.”

  Jack tugged at his collar. “What do you know of her spiritual life, Noah?”

  “I know she made a profession of faith as a child, and I know she attends church with me every Sunday.”

  “There are a lot of years in between. What of her fruit? Tell me what fruit you see in her life.”

  Noah’s neck muscles tightened. “I’ve never known you to be judgmental, Jack.”

  “It’s a legitimate question. The Scriptures say, ‘You will know them by their fruits.’”

  Noah thought of Josie’s heart for people. The way she’d responded when she found out about the Hope House. She’d already offered free haircuts to the girls there, and he knew she could scarcely afford to give her services away.

  But he wasn’t going to sit here and defend Josie to Jack. “What have you got against her? She’s been nothing but kind to everyone in town.”

  Jack’s eyes flittered away, and he tugged at his collar again. Noah remembered the early rumors about Josie when she’d come to town.

  “Don’t tell me you’re buying into rumors these days.”

  “Don’t be insulting.”

  He looked Jack over, noting his dark good looks, his short, neat haircut. Half the single ladies in his congregation had a crush on him. An unwelcome thought surfaced. One that made jealousy spring up like a thorny weed in a flower garden.

  “Did she come on to you, is that it? I admit she can be a little flirtatious, but she doesn’t mean—”

  Jack waved a hand. “No, no, it’s not that.”

  A quiet breath tumbled from his lips. Noah didn’t want to admit, even to himself, how quickly he’d jumped onto that thought.

  But Jack still wouldn’t meet his eyes. The struggle was there on his face in his tightened eyes, his furrowed brow.

  “What then?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “But you know something.” Noah continued to search his friend’s face.

  Jack’s eyes finally met his, something surfacing there even as his lips pressed together.

  Noah tipped his head back as light dawned. “She’s counseled with you.”

  He saw the admission in Jack’s eyes. “You know I can’t talk about that.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it?”

  Jack stared back, resolutely silent.

  “Well, that only proves she’s trying to do better, for crying out loud. Whatever she’s done that’s got you all heated up, she obviously regrets it.” Noah gave him a pointed look. “And she’s trying to work it out—isn’t that the whole point of counseling, Jack?”

  The longer his friend stared silently back, the more agitated Noah became. Sometimes Jack thought his bachelor’s in psychology made him the premier font of wisdom.

  “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that. It’s in the past. You may know what she’s done, but I know her. You don’t. She may come across as cynical and a little . . . provocative, but she’s got a soft heart, a good heart.”

  Noah’s skin tingled as sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He didn’t know what Jack’s problem was, but he rejected it. Whatever it was.

  “How long have you known me, Noah?”

  “I know you mean well. But you’re wrong about her.”

  “I just want the best for you. What would it hurt to slow down a little?”

  “Slow down a little, or put an end to my relationship with her?”

  The truth flickered in Jack’s eyes before he lowered them.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Noah slapped the chair’s arms with his palms and stood. “Thanks for the support, man.”

  “Noah, come on.”

  He strode out of Jack’s office, wanting out of there more than he could say. A moment later he gave the exterior door a hard shove and walked into the sun’s bright light.

  He loved Josie, and she loved him. Anything else they could work out together.

  Noah had been acting strangely all night. He’d been unusually quiet through supper. The Blue Moon Grill was on the outskirts of town, adjacent to Copper Creek. It had become one of their favorite spots, not only for the delicious food, but for the moonlit strolls on the walkway afterward.

  Josephine had kept the conversation rolling through supper, mostly talking about her week at the barbershop, filling the gap with little anecdotes meant to make him smile.

  But he hardly seemed to be listening. He fidgeted with his collar, his eyes never focused too long on one spot. By the time they finished eating, a terrible dread had seeped into her blood.

  He’d gone to supper with Pastor Jack this week. Whenever they spent time alone together Josephine worried. What if Jack had told Noah about her past?

  Judging by the tense silence that hovered over their table, she was afraid that her worst fears had finally come true.

  Noah took the bill folder from the server and pocketed his credit card. He gave her a strained smile. “Take a walk?”

  Her smile trembled on her lips. “Sure.”

  This was it. This was where he was going to break up with her. Out on the walkway or on the bench in front of the covered bridge where they’d spent so many happy hours talking.

  Her legs wobbled as they stepped into the chilly night. He shrugged out of his jacket and slipped it over her shoulders. Always the gentleman.

 
; The still November air was laden with the smells of pine and burning wood. The moon had risen, and it hung over the water like a big white balloon. But she couldn’t appreciate its beauty. All she could do was try to breathe past the hard stone lodged in her throat.

  She had to get ready. Buck up. She was a survivor. She’d suffered through much worse than this.

  But suddenly losing Noah seemed like the worse thing that could ever happen. She’d come to love him more than she’d ever loved anyone. Had come to depend on him.

  You’re so stupid, Josephine! You knew better than this.

  She already felt the impact of his rejection like a sucker punch to the stomach. Her chest constricted, making her heart ache. Making her ache all over.

  He took her hand when they reached the walkway that led beside the rippling creek. He was going to break it to her easy. Of course he would. She’d nod and tell him it was all right. Easy come, easy go. He didn’t have to know about the vise tightening around her heart or the white dots speckling her vision.

  His hand was clammy. He was nervous. Of course he was. He was a nice guy, and he’d take no joy in hurting her.

  Could he tell her own hands were cold, despite the rather mild evening temperature? Or that she trembled like the last withering leaf on a dead oak tree? Suddenly she just wanted to get it over with. So she could go home, shut her door, and curl up in a quiet corner.

  “You’re awful quiet tonight,” she said.

  She felt his perusal. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just preoccupied. And a little nervous.”

  Here it is, Josephine. Get ready.

  She made a futile attempt to slow her breathing, settle her heart rate as they neared the covered bridge.

  Noah suddenly stopped and turned to her. There was a look on his face she hadn’t seen before. So serious, his eyes blinking rapidly. He jabbed his free hand into his pants pocket.

  Josephine fought the urge to pull her hand from his. To wrap her arms around herself.

  “You know how I feel about you, Josie . . .”

  She pasted a smile on her lips, her spine rigid straight. Easy come, easy go. “Of course.”

  He dropped to the ground. And for a moment she thought he’d dropped something. But then he looked up at her. The moonlight caught the amber flecks in his eyes, and they flashed like fire.

  He dropped her hand, pulled something from his pocket. And then she was staring at a diamond that winked in the moonlight.

  She sucked in a breath, her fingertips covering her mouth. Her heart beat erratically in her chest.

  “I love you, baby girl.” Noah’s voice was warm and liquid. “I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and my feelings have only grown with every moment we’ve spent together. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. Make me the happiest man alive and tell me yes, Josie.”

  Her eyes burned with tears, and the knot in her throat grew even as it softened. “Oh, Noah.”

  “I know it’s quick. If you want to wait awhile or have a long engagement, I’ll understand. Whatever you want.”

  Wait? After the dread building inside her the past hour, she wanted a wedding band on her finger yesterday. “I don’t want to wait. I want to marry you and soon.”

  A smile curled on his lips, making his eyes crinkle at the corners.

  “Are you going to put that ring on my finger or what, Noah Mitchell?”

  He fumbled with the box, both of them laughing at his clumsiness, then he slid the ring into place and stood, drawing her into his arms.

  She swallowed against the lump in her throat, dizzy and shaking from the emotional U-turn she’d taken in the last minute.

  She slipped her hands up his chest, admiring the ring there on her finger. “I love it. It’s so beautiful.”

  He tipped her chin up. “You’re beautiful, Josie. Inside and out.”

  It was the inside that worried her. She wondered suddenly what his family was going to say about this. What Jack was going to say. But she managed to smother the glimmer of fear as Noah lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  As it turned out, his family took the news pretty well. His mother was nothing but kind, offering to take her shopping for a dress and lending a hand with the wedding preparations. His father was supportive and said all the right things. They threw a small engagement party and tried to make Josephine feel like part of the family. Jack, too, wore a smile as he served as best man during their simple Christmas ceremony.

  A feeling of relief swamped Josephine once that wedding band was on her finger. Following a short honeymoon in Savannah, they began house hunting and settled into a darling little cottage on Katydid Lane. Josephine loved the kitchen with its white beadboard walls and old farm sink.

  They cuddled in front of the fire on cold winter evenings, and when spring arrived, Noah tried to teach Josephine how to garden. It soon became obvious she had no talent for growing things, but instead of getting cross with her, he swatted her rear end and told her to just keep the iced tea coming.

  She was happy in those early days. All except for that little voice in the back of her mind. The one that warned that the other shoe was about to drop. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t quite drown it out.

  Chapter 26

  North Georgia Mountains

  Present day

  Josephine hugged her knees on the bed of pine boughs while Noah gathered wood for a fire. He returned from the nearby copse of trees, his arms loaded with more logs.

  “Doing all right?” he asked.

  “Sure.” But the truth was, she still couldn’t feel her toes, and she was cold to the bone. The perspiration from their hike had left her skin chilled. She couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of the fire.

  “You’re going to have to move back when I light this. If you’re not careful you’ll burn your skin and not even feel it.”

  He dumped the branches on a nearby ridge.

  That was a lot of wood. Was he expecting to spend the entire day out here? Surely not another night. She didn’t know how she’d make it another night.

  “That’s a lot of w-wood.”

  His eyes glanced off hers as he began stacking the logs. “I’m making a signal fire. Once it’s going, I’ll put some green wood on so it’ll burn black. Then I’m going to fire off a few rounds. Hopefully that’ll draw someone’s attention.”

  She should’ve known he’d have a plan. Hope flooded through her veins. Maybe they’d be back to Noah’s place in a matter of hours.

  “Do you suppose it’ll work?”

  “I’m saying my prayers.”

  While Noah broke up the branches, Josephine loosened the ties on her boots and set them near the logs to dry with both pairs of socks. Surely it would take hours to dry them out. She whispered a prayer for rescue even though she was sure her plea didn’t make it past the treetops.

  Once the wood was arranged into a tepee shape, Noah dug in the book bag for the lighter. He peeled the paper from the peanut can, made a wick of it, then pushed the lighter button.

  It clicked but produced no flame.

  He tried again. After it failed to light a third and fourth time, the corners of his mouth tightened.

  “What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

  He said nothing as he blew on the lighter tip and gave it a few more unproductive tries.

  Josephine’s sluggish heart pumped faster. If he couldn’t get that thing working there’d be no signal fire. No one would know they were here. There’d be no way to warm themselves or dry anything. A niggle of fear wormed through her.

  He blew on the top of the lighter and tried again. Nothing. After a few more tries, Noah sat back on his heels, staring silently into the cold fire pit.

  “Noah?”

  “The bottom of the bag got wet back at the creek.”

  “Maybe it’ll dry out.”

  “Maybe.” He blew on the tip one more time and gave it another try, to no avail. “In the mean
time, I think I’ll go ahead and fire off those shots.”

  “But they’ll only echo off the hills, won’t they? No one will be able to tell where they came from.”

  “I have six rounds. If we get a fire going later, I’ll shoot the last three then.”

  “Maybe Mary Beth will hear it. D-didn’t you leave your phone charging at her place? She must be wondering where you are.”

  “She didn’t have power either, so I didn’t leave my phone.”

  “Oh.”

  Would anyone notice the gunshots when nobody even knew they were missing?

  Was this really their best chance? She’d never make it the rest of the way back. But Noah could. It would be miserable being out here all by her lonesome, freezing, and it would be infinitely worse if he didn’t make it back by dark.

  Still, she made herself say the words. “Noah . . . maybe you should just g-go for help.”

  He chucked the lighter and grabbed his gun where it leaned against a tree. “I told you I’m not leaving you out here.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s just sit tight and hope someone takes note of the shots. It’s our best bet.”

  Noah had never been so afraid. He’d had moments in his life. What man didn’t? A thumb almost caught in a jigsaw. An o’dark hundred phone call from his distraught mom. A ladder tipping precariously while his dad clung to the eaves.

  But this.

  He was sitting behind Josie, both arms wrapped around her. Her weight sank into his chest, and her whole body shook with tremors even though she’d fallen asleep a long time ago.

  The sight of her feet had sent a shiver of apprehension down his spine. They were red and swollen, and she’d lost all feeling. There was no way she could walk for miles. He’d put his dry boots on her and covered his own with the dry neck of his socks. They stung from the cold air, but he was faring better than Josie.

  His palms stung too. He’d spent hours trying to spark a flame using the only tools at his disposal. He’d “drilled” a hole in a dead tree stump with his blade and found a dry stick. After making a nest of dry wood slivers and lint he’d scraped from his jeans pockets, he’d set to work. After placing the stick’s end into the hole, he rolled the stick rapidly back and forth, producing friction. He’d come close a couple times, had made plenty of smoke, but he couldn’t quite get the nest to catch flame.

 

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