Covered Bridge Charm

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Covered Bridge Charm Page 25

by Christner, Dianne;


  She tensed, pulling out of the embrace. “It’s embarrassing. Can we just drop it?”

  His hand dropped to his lap. “Jah, sure.”

  She fought the lump in her throat and forged ahead with the question that was foremost in her mind. “Did you get your work finished in Indiana? Or do you need to return?”

  “I’m done. Home to stay.”

  Relief flooded through her, but she studied him thoughtfully, searching for sincerity.

  He kissed her cheek. “I hope that was a spot that wasn’t bruised.”

  While it was good to have him back, things felt tense between them. “It was my first day back to work. I’m pretty exhausted.”

  His expression fell with disappointment. “Can we get together this weekend? I’d like to take you to the Point, the restaurant that overlooks Foster Lake. Then I’m available if you need help going to Portland or—”

  She shook her head, and he looked puzzled. “No?”

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know when you’d be back, and I booked my weekend already.”

  With frustration, he repeated, “Booked?”

  “Saturday I’m going to a Christmas craft show with Miranda and some of her friends. I don’t know what time we’ll get back.”

  “How about Sunday?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m going to Albany with Jason.”

  His voice exploded. “On a date? What is this? Revenge over Cynthia?”

  “Of course not. I’m helping him with a homeless project called Super City Event. I’m working in a free health clinic.”

  He slumped and crossed his arms.

  “Like I said, I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

  “I told you I was only staying a few extra days.”

  “Actually, you didn’t share much about your plans. And you only called me once.” If he’d really missed her, he’d have called more often. The grating sound of Cocoa’s nose pushing his water dish across the floor drove her to her feet. She took it to the kitchen to refill. Then she stared out the kitchen window. Darkness met her eyes and filled her heart. Why was everything with Adam becoming so difficult?

  She was aware that her single status partly stemmed from her take-charge, nonsubmissive attitude. She’d thought he liked that about her, but now she wondered if they were always going to clash. She’d been focusing on why he wasn’t ready for a relationship, but maybe she should have been focusing on her own heart. Could she give up her free will for him?

  He followed, touched her shoulder. “I didn’t call because I worked late hours. I fell into bed exhausted each night and rose before daylight. So I could get home again. But I didn’t realize that Jason would move in on you while I was gone.”

  She turned to face him. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends. We have a lot in common, working in social services.” She raised her chin. “He rides a bike to work, and… he understands… me.”

  Looking stricken, Adam replied, “In a few short days, he understands you? It’s taken me a lifetime, and I still don’t understand you.”

  That’s my point.

  She started to rub her temple, but felt her stitches and let her hand drop. “Look. I’d love to see you, but I’ve made a commitment to work at the clinic. Now it’s your turn to trust me.”

  His jaw hardened.

  It felt liberating to throw back his favorite line at him. Until the Holy Spirit checked her motives. She urged softly, “Adam?”

  “I do. It’s him I don’t trust.”

  “He said Gramps is looking forward to Martha’s party.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to finish what we started.”

  She touched his arm. “I know.”

  He placed his thumb under her chin. “We’re both tired. And I don’t want to fight.” She nodded.

  “I’m going to be swamped at the farm this week.” He grinned then, and she got her first glimpse of her godsend. “We’ve been through worse. We’ll survive this. So you want to book me for the following weekend?”

  Biting her bottom lip, she replied, “Sunday afternoon is Martha’s birthday party.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  She smiled. “I’d like that.”

  He kissed the top of her head.

  “It’s a date.”

  She watched him drive away. He’s right. We’re just too tired to think clearly. “Come on, Cocoa, let’s go to bed.”

  Despite the age differences, Miranda’s roommates accepted Carly as one of the gang. Since they all had to pinch pennies—given their voluntary positions—they accepted her mode of transportation as reasonable and her bruises as marks of honor. She was surprised to discover how much they knew about her. Seemingly, Miranda often spoke about Sweet Life.

  Still she was relieved when they dispersed at the craft show. Inside a large building, booths were decorated with greenery and twinkly lights to create a Christmas theme.

  Miranda smiled. “Told you you’d fit in.”

  “They’re great. Thanks for inviting me.”

  They stopped at a stationery booth. Fingering a ladybug paperclip, Carly asked, “Are you going out with Jimmy tonight?”

  “Nope. I’ll be washing my hair and doing my nails. Tomorrow I’m in charge of devotions, and I still need to prepare.” Carly sensed something was bothering Miranda. They moved to a booth displaying candles and fragrant soaps. “Everything okay, then?”

  “I do need to ask you something.”

  Carly nodded. “Sure.”

  “Is our friendship based on my relationship with Jimmy?”

  “Of course not. Actually, Aunt Fannie is responsible for pointing out all your good qualities. Guess I was stuck in my own little world, not seeing.” She shrugged. “I mean, we don’t look like we go together, do we?”

  “Assumptions. They’ve plagued me all my life. I try to avoid them.” Miranda picked up a bar of cellophane-wrapped soap and sniffed. “This reminds me of Mom.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Both. I miss her.”

  “Let me buy it for you.” At first Miranda objected, but eventually she accepted Carly’s gift. “I like volunteering, but I’ll be happy when I actually get paid for working at Sweet Life. My term’s about over. Sherie said they’d keep me on if I stay.”

  “That’s great! I hope you do.” They skirted around a line of rowdy children waiting to get their faces painted.

  “Last weekend Jimmy and I came to an understanding. We like each other as friends, but he’s not ready to settle down, and I’m not willing to live a plainer lifestyle so…” She shrugged.

  Carly slipped an arm around Miranda. “I understand. But you probably need to have this talk with Aunt Fannie. She’s the matchmaker.”

  “I hope I’ll still be able to hang with you guys. You’re starting to feel like family.”

  “You won’t be able to get rid of us. Oh look!” She hurried to a booth of art supplies and chose a white leather portfolio with a clear pocket in the front where Auntie could place a colorful quilt pattern. “It’s perfect.”

  As they left the booth, Miranda urged, “Before we meet up with the others again, tell me what’s going on between you and Adam.”

  Carly shared as honestly as she could about their fragile relationship and their most recent obstacle—that Adam didn’t trust Jason. It felt good to have a sympathetic ear.

  When Carly grew quiet, Miranda reasoned, “Jason might be the push Adam needs to get his act together.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Here he comes! Wow, what a looker. And his car’s amazing.”

  “Stop! He’s going to see you,” Carly warned.

  Miranda released the curtain and jumped away from the window. “If you don’t want him, you can hook me up.”

  “You don’t think he’s too old?”

  “I usually date older guys.”

  True, but Carly still couldn’t imagine them as a couple.

  Aunt Fannie cro
ssed her arms. “Such talk. Just like that, you’re tossing Jimmy aside?”

  “We both know he’s not ready to settle down.”

  “That man. What’d he say to you?”

  Miranda sought Carly’s eyes for support. “I’m not ready either, Fannie.”

  It had been Miranda’s idea to have Jason pick Carly up at Fannie’s. She’d planned to attend church with Fannie and work on their patterns afterward. She told Carly she was going to break the news that Fannie’s matchmaking efforts had been a wash. Carly supposed this was one way to do it.

  “Now behave yourselves.” Carly went to the door and invited Jason inside.

  After the introductions were made—including Cocoa—they took time for a cup of coffee. Seeing the patterns scattered on the dining-room table, Jason asked Fannie about her project.

  “I create quilt patterns. Miranda can take what’s in my mind and put it on paper.”

  “You were doing fine with that before I came along,” Miranda replied.

  “You’re good inspiration for me. Anyway, it’s just an old woman’s dream.”

  Carly explained, “Auntie wants to get a pattern book published. She’s had some appointments with publishers and come close but hasn’t closed a deal yet.”

  Jason examined some of the patterns on the table. “I think your dream is valid. These are beautiful. Once they’re copyrighted, they’d make awesome framed artwork and calendars. Even stationery.”

  Aunt Fannie’s face beamed, gazing at Jason as if he were better than Texas sheet cake. He also praised Miranda, reminding Carly how wrong her first opinion of him had been. He was generous with acknowledging other people’s gifts and encouraging them. His real personality was upbeat. As he and Miranda bent their heads over a design, the stars in her friend’s eyes almost made her chuckle.

  “Thanks for sharing Carly with me today.” She broke from her musing to find him gazing at her with admiration. “She’s going to be a hit at the clinic.”

  “Everybody adores her at Sweet Life,” Miranda affirmed.

  “Jah, you don’t need to talk about me like I’m not here.”

  They laughed, and he regretfully admitted they needed to scoot to get to the clinic on time. Cocoa hopped after Carly. At the door, she knelt and patted his head. “Be good.” Then she told Auntie, “Don’t forget to close your bedroom doors and put the chairs up tight against the dining-room table. And remember, he’ll obey his bell.”

  “That old rabbit doesn’t know how to behave. Now skedaddle before I change my mind about keeping it today.”

  In the car, Jason smiled warmly at Carly. “I’m glad I got to meet your aunt. I can tell she’s a character. Like Gramps. And I mean that in a good way.”

  “I’m used to her scolds. She means well. And for the record, she adores Cocoa.”

  “That’s what I figured.” He pulled onto Route 20, headed west toward the freeway and Albany. “I didn’t want to say anything that might get Fannie’s hopes up, but I have a good friend who’s in publishing. I could get Tom to check out her patterns. What do you think? He works for a secular publisher, but there’s a large group of people eating this stuff up right now, dreaming of days when life was simpler.”

  Astonished, Carly could hardly contain her excitement. “Are you kidding me? That would be wonderful. She’s had her dream for a long time. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

  “No trouble for you, Carly.” She squirmed a bit under his warm smile. This man was so magnanimous it was hard to read him. She couldn’t imagine that he was appreciating her as a woman he might pursue—given her plain lifestyle—yet his attentiveness was hard to explain away. “Better not tell her until I talk to Tom and get his opinion.”

  “All right. Thanks again.” She was thrilled for Auntie. And amazed how her life was changing just by allowing a few new friendships to develop.

  “And?” He flashed her a white smile. “There seems to be more on your mind.”

  “I was thinking that until the last few months, most of my friendships were with elderly people. It feels good to be around people who still dream and want to make dreams come true.”

  “Everybody needs a dream.”

  “Mine all seem to involve the residents at Sweet Life.”

  “I understand. I feel the same about the homeless. Gramps wanted me to join the military, but I guess I took after Mom’s side. I like what I do. Don’t you have any personal dreams?”

  Adam came to mind, but she wasn’t going to share about him. “I don’t know.”

  “I get it, if you don’t want to share.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “I have dreams about settling down. Having a family.”

  She nodded, feeling heat sear her neck. That was her dream, too.

  “It’s hard to find the right person. I thought I had it all figured out, had met the right woman.” He laughed harshly. “Sorry if I sound bitter, but I’m still recovering from a broken relationship.” He gripped the steering wheel. “Anyway, money draws the wrong people. I’m looking for somebody with a heart like yours.”

  She laughed nervously. “You barely know me.”

  “That’s why I invited you today.”

  “I thought you needed help at the clinic.”

  “God works in mysterious ways.”

  “Jah.” She’d been praying more lately, willing to follow God’s plan for her life, but didn’t know how Jason fit into the overall plan. She understood he was part of creating Martha’s surprise, but it seemed as though more was happening.

  By the end of the day, however, Jason’s intentions became clearer. He’d watched as she told stories while the children were being administered shots. His blue eyes glimmered with admiration when she washed a homeless man’s feet in a sudsy tub so that a doctor could examine them.

  For a multitude of reasons, she needed to set him straight. She was plain, and he was worldly. While they both loved and served the Lord, their doctrinal beliefs were light-years apart, and she’d never compromise. She’d preached this very thing to Miranda when she’d first shown interest in Jimmy. But with Jason, things became complicated so fast that it was hard to discern God’s will—a problem that often got Carly into one predicament or another.

  But the biggest reason she should thwart Jason’s interest was Adam. No matter how handsome, kind, and generous a man Jason was, she loved Adam. Quiet and brooding, her dark-haired hero awakened desires in her that were incomparable to any other. Her godsend—so steadfast—well, until lately. Her burr—he’d be furious if he discovered the situation she’d put herself in and what was occupying Jason’s mind.

  Adam whistled, proud of himself for securing time both Saturday and Sunday to spend with his suddenly social butterfly. Sunday afternoon was the big birthday party. After Carly’s protestations regarding Saturday—she was baking a cake for Martha’s birthday—he’d volunteered to help. To his delight, she’d agreed. Not that he knew anything about cakes except his favorite was chocolate, but he loved any previews of Carly’s domestic abilities.

  He rapped on her cottage door, and she answered, looking somewhat disheveled, which had nothing to do with her accident because it appeared she’d had her stitches removed and the bruises were disappearing, too. He’d seen this particular look before, probably more often than not. She wore it well. He wondered if she actually cut those little wisps of curls that always seemed to escape her covering and dance around her face. Did she do it on purpose, knowing it allured him? With flushed face, she invited him inside.

  “You look adorable.” Adorably frazzled.

  “Thanks. Want some coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  After he tossed his coat over a kitchen chair, she handed him a steaming cup and sank down beside him with a sigh. “What a morning! I was housecleaning and left the door open to shake out some rugs on the stoop, and somehow Cocoa got out. Which I don’t understand because he’s never done that before. And I didn’t miss him right
away. Then I had to search. I was worried sick and so frantic I forgot to use his bell. Finally I remembered. As soon as I rang it, Cocoa’s head popped up in Imogene’s garden. So I had to tell my neighbor in case he ruined anything. She threw a big fuss because Cocoa dug up some of her bulbs. And now he’s got a taste for them.”

  “Whoa. That’s not good.”

  “Anyway, all’s well now.”

  He looked away from her frazzled face and sipped his coffee, imagining what life would be like at his place if Carly and Cocoa moved in. It’d never occurred to him he’d be living with a willful rabbit. “Does Cocoa get jealous of you?”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. I brought you something.” He went to the sofa and retrieved a bag he’d slipped there on his way inside. He placed it on the table in front of her and settled in to watch her reaction.

  Glancing at him with curiosity, she pulled it onto her lap and reached inside. When her hands touched the smooth wood, she hesitated, and he could read her puzzlement. She pulled his offering out and laid it on the table. Her mouth opened adorably, and her eyes misted. “Oh! Oh, my!” She ran her fingers over the carvings of Martha and James’s endearments and swiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. “This is beautiful. How?”

  “I went back that night.”

  Looking both amused and accusing, she asked, “You went back and stole it?”

  “Let’s just say I made an anonymous contribution to the Larwood bridge’s restoration fund.”

  “This is amazing. I love the way you shaped and finished it. Thank you. When we first started searching the bridges, I didn’t know what we were even looking for, but this is it.” She stood, and the empty bag fell to the ground. When she started toward him, he rose, eager to accept whatever show of thanks she had in mind. He stilled when she placed her hands on the sides of his face and studied him with unveiled adoration.

  “You’re amazing. That’s the most precious gift I’ve ever received. Thank you.” He wanted to sweep her in his arms and kiss her senseless but the moment was too dear to spoil. She dropped her hands and raised them in animation. “Martha’s going to cherish this.”

 

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