Covered Bridge Charm

by Christner, Dianne;

  “I hope she enjoys a good adventure story.”

  “And she thinks nobody cares about her. This is perfect proof we do. And speaking of proof, should we get started with that cake?”

  The opportunity to kiss her senseless passed, but Adam cherished the pleasure he’d brought her. He hoped nobody would catch him in Carly’s apron. He wondered how many other men stooped so low to please women—behind closed doors, of course.

  “You want to measure ingredients or beat?”

  “Beat.” He snatched up the mixer with a wicked grin.

  “First we cream the sugar and eggs.” She cracked two eggs into the bowl, fingering out a bit of shell, then moved to the sink to wash her hands. When she returned, she measured the sugar. Even though she dressed more conservatively than most of the women in their church, she couldn’t disguise her pleasant curves. Some might call it pleasantly plump, but he knew from holding her in his arms that she had a tiny waist and a perfect, curvy form. He stood spellbound. “So beat.”

  “Oh. Jah.”

  When they got to the flour, she patted his cheeks white. In retaliation, he pulled a pin from her hair.

  “That’s playing dirty.”

  He shrugged.

  “Put these on.” She handed him oven mitts and motioned for him to put the pans in the oven.

  “Not fair,” he complained. But in truth, the afternoon sped by, and when they were finished, they had a beautiful, two-layered chocolate cake and Carly’s hair was in disarray. Staring at their masterpiece, he remarked, “I didn’t know baking was this complicated. Or messy. But is this going to be enough?”

  “No. Martha’s daughter’s bringing the real cake. This just fulfills a promise I made to Martha.”

  Admiring her thoughtfulness, he pulled her close. “I made a promise to you, and I mean to fulfill it.”

  “What promise?” she asked breathless.

  “Us.” He found her lips, and when she yielded, he deepened their kiss, unaware at first why she pulled away. Drat, her phone was buzzing.

  “Bad timing,” she said, moving to retrieve it from the kitchen counter. Casting him a breathless smile, she tried to right her hair as she answered. “Hi. Jah, a little busy.” She flashed him an intimate smile. He grinned, moved closer, and pulled one of her curls, but she swept his hand away, whispering. “Stop. It’s Jason.”

  With disappointment he moved to the sofa, intent now on following the conversation. While he didn’t know what lines the cad was feeding her, it was an earful, given her muttered responses. Jealousy twisted his gut and ignited when suddenly her face became animated. “That’s wonderful!” she burst out. “I don’t know how to thank you.” His heart sank. Why so grateful to a stranger? Then to his increased frustration, she started pacing, happily forgetting he was even there.

  Burning now, he rose, went to the kitchen, and tilted his head in a silent plea. Hey, remember me?

  “Oh, Jason. I forgot. Adam’s here.”

  Forgot?

  “I should probably go, but I don’t know how to thank you. Auntie’s going to be thrilled.” Whatever he said on the other end made her face blush, and Adam wanted to smash the man’s gleaming teeth. “Jah, bye.” She gently put her phone on the counter and turned. “Sorry about that. But you’ll never believe what he did.”

  “You’re right,” Adam said sarcastically.

  “He’s found an editor from a major publishing house that wants to look at Auntie’s quilt patterns. She’s going to be thrilled. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Stunned, Adam nodded. “Jah. I’m happy for her.” How on earth had Jason wiggled his way into Carly’s family life so quickly?

  “He said her designs are so unique they’ll probably make some into art prints and maybe stationery, too. She could make a lot of money.”

  “He saw them?”

  “Jah.”

  He watched her discern his mounting anger and downplay her explanation. She shrugged. “He picked me up at Auntie’s last week when we worked at the clinic. Miranda was there, too.”

  “At the clinic?”

  “No, at Aunt Fannie’s.”

  He knew he was glaring, but he didn’t know how to process this information. An outsider moving in on his girl. If he stuck around, he was sure to say something offensive that would spoil their entire weekend. It would be useless to fall into the same repeated argument over Jason. Frustrated, he stared at the beautiful cake inside the glass stand and didn’t say anything for several strained moments. Finally he managed, “I’m happy for Aunt Fannie.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled.

  Then for once, Cocoa’s interruption was timed perfectly. While Carly went to feed the impatient rabbit, he got Jason’s number from her phone.

  Adam paced down the nap of Ann’s carpet. “I feel like driving to Portland tonight and facing off with him. But I’d probably get all the way out there and he wouldn’t be home or answer the door. But I have his phone number.”

  “You mean… to fight him?”

  “Jah. If that what it takes.”

  “I can’t believe my ears.” She bit her lip, wishing she was the one upstairs putting the kids to bed, not Ron. What Adam needed was another man to talk some sense into him. She’d never seen him so furious. “You know violence isn’t the answer. Carly wouldn’t like it.”

  “I don’t understand why she’s encouraging him.”

  “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but she’s kind to everyone.”

  “The way Carly talks about Mr. Magnanimous, he sounds like a male version of her—like they’re soul mates. Only he’s got the money to back up his plans. He’s loaded.”

  “It’s just a friendship based on their desire to help others. Remember, it’s opposites who usually attract.”

  “I help others.”

  “Of course you do; I didn’t mean that. She’s spontaneous, and you’re steady. She’s blond, and you’re dark.” Ann grinned hopefully, but he wasn’t buying it.

  “I know she’s attracted to me. If Jason hadn’t come along, I’d have no doubts about winning her over. But it’s like he’s spinning a web and she’s too naive to see it.”

  “Carly’s not naive.”

  “Oh, jah? Then why am I always getting her out of scrapes?”

  “Because you’re just what she needs. She knows that.”

  “What you say sounds good, but you’d have to witness how she acts to believe it. He’s pulling the wool over her eyes. I can’t take it. I’m driving to Portland tonight.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  He pulled out his phone. “Then I’m calling him.”

  “Have you considered the difference in their faith? Do you really think she’d abandon her beliefs? You know she’s strong-willed and independent.”

  He put his phone in his pocket and sank onto the sofa.

  “Mission accomplished,” Ron piped, coming down the stairs. While easing into his recliner, he swept his gaze across Ann and Adam.

  “Thanks, honey. I think Adam could use some advice. While I make a pot of coffee, tell Ron what’s going on.”

  Adam shrugged. “Just jealous and trying to decide if I’m going to take the other guy’s teeth out.”

  Ron chuckled. “I remember that feeling. But our women hate that kind of thing. It’ll set you back months with her.”

  “That’s the thing. Carly doesn’t like it when I try to run interference. She’s sensitive when it comes to criticism.”

  “Aren’t we all? Something to consider, though, before you marry her.”

  “Marry?” Ann asked, returning to the room and serving coffee. “Of course! That’s it! Just propose to her so she has to make her decision before he sinks in his claws. You’ll be her hero, her knight in shining armor.”

  “Uh, I was just advising him to think about how serious he is about her, not advising him to marry her. Not when she’s acting all fickle.”

  “She’s not fickle. Honestly, don’t you guys know Carly at all?”r />
  Ron’s advice echoed Dad’s, stereotyping Carly as inappropriate wife material. Sure she wasn’t like his mom or Ann, and maybe he didn’t understand her like Ann claimed to, but he knew she was right for him. “I can’t even get dating right. How would I manage a proposal?”

  Ron shook his head and watched the siblings skirt around his well-placed advice.

  “I know!” Ann squealed, then covered her mouth and looked at the stairway to see if she’d awakened her children. Lowering her voice, she said, “Take her to one of those covered bridges. It’s kind of your thing now, right?”

  “The kissing tree,” Adam murmured, almost forgetting he wasn’t alone.

  “There! Your problem is solved.”

  With his new plan, his anger toward Jason faded so that he almost pitied the guy. After all, what kind of competition was a newcomer with somebody who had a kissing tree with Carly?

  On his way home that night, however, Adam’s hands still itched to call Jason—he’d been too embarrassed to admit to his sister how he’d gotten the number—and then his phone buzzed. Dale. Disappointment fell over him as he pulled over. “Jah, what’s up?”

  “Bad news. I guess I overdid it and messed up my leg again. They’re talking surgery now. I’m going to be laid up for a long time. I was hoping you could come out and help me again, you know, after Christmas.”

  Adam’s heart thudded.

  “I just expanded the business, you know. I can’t carry this forever without getting some income going.”

  Slapping the steering wheel, Adam listened to his cousin’s explanation with growing frustration.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The Family’s Sweet Room, where groups of people could congregate for special occasions for Sweet Life’s residents, was made festive with white tablecloths, flowers, balloons, crepe ribbon bows, and birthday banners.

  Carly wore her newest blue dress and was in a celebratory mood. “I can’t wait to see her expression,” she told Adam as they took their cake to a table and set it off to the side of the family’s centerpiece cake.

  “How’d they do this?” she marveled. Somehow photos of all Martha’s children and grandchildren had been transferred to the icing. Words edged the entire rectangle: “We love you and wish you a happy year.”

  “It’s just what she needs. But it makes ours look plain.”

  He touched her lip. “Not to me.”

  Her heart melted. Adam looked especially handsome in his Sunday white shirt that complimented his dark features. She was pleased how he’d controlled his jealousy over Jason. His steady presence at her side made her hopeful there wouldn’t be any scenes at the party. This was all about Martha’s happiness, and she was going to enjoy every moment of it.

  By the door, Martha’s daughter Helen greeted Jason and James, looking perplexed. Carly hastened over to make the introductions, explaining, “James is the old friend I told you I’d invited. Martha’s childhood friend.”

  Frowning thoughtfully, Helen waved them in. “Well, find a place. I just got a text that she’s on her way.” She moved to the center of the room. “She’s coming. Everybody get ready.”

  Carly helped find a chair for James, and he slowly lowered himself into it moments before Martha stepped into the room.

  “Surprise!” everyone shouted.

  The startled woman stumbled back and placed her hand at her breast. “What on earth?”

  “Happy Birthday!” Helen exclaimed, and the family rushed forward to give their greetings. Carly’s heart soared as she watched Martha’s happy expression while her family led her around the room, pointing out the cake and decorations. They eventually settled her in a chair next to a huge pile of presents.

  James chuckled. “She never did like surprises. Always liked to be in control of things, only that didn’t work out for us because circumstances were against us. She’s still pretty as ever.”

  “She’ll like one surprise. When she notices you.”

  “Give her time to enjoy her family. Then I’ll make my way over and knock her socks off.”

  Watching everything transpire around her, Carly wondered if the occasion would create an awkward reunion. She began to fret, regretting the public setting with grandkids tugging Martha’s arms and climbing onto her lap.

  “The right moment will come,” Jason assured. “Hey, sweets, can I get you some punch? How about you Gramps?”

  “Jah, I’ll help you,” Carly replied, inadvertently playing the role of an assisted-living caregiver.

  “I’ll get my own coffee,” Adam muttered, trailing behind.

  “I’ve never seen Gramps so excited,” Jason whispered. “Since I met you, he acts ten years younger.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. “Thanks.”

  But Carly’s nerves were on edge. She filled a punch glass and handed it to Jason. “I just hope this works.”

  Returning with his coffee in time to hear her remark, Adam assured, “It will. But if it doesn’t, I’ll help you pick up the pieces.” He winked, then cast Jason a smirk.

  “Don’t joke,” she said. Her heart suddenly beat wildly. “She’s looking this way. She sees him.”

  Martha gripped her armrests, her complexion paling. Then with a brush of her hand, she moved aside her hovering grandchildren and started out of her chair toward them. Carly hurried to meet her in the center of the room. “There’s an old friend who wants to meet you.”

  But Martha batted her aside like a pesky fly. “I see him.”

  Hurrying to keep up with Martha’s determined pace, she almost ran into her when the older woman stopped abruptly in front of Jason. “Who are you, young man?”

  “Jason Irish, ma’am.”

  “No.” Martha’s hand went to her breast and she wheezed, “It can’t be you.”

  Widow Martha thought she was hallucinating. Most likely losing her mind. She knew she’d been confused ever since her hospital stay. But if James was a hallucination, she was going to take a long hard gander, one that would last her the rest of her days. She pinched her arm. It hurt.

  She poked his chest. He felt real.

  He grinned at her, that familiar grin that warmed her insides. He looked older than the last time they were together, but not old enough to match her age. Then it hit her. He was a ghost.

  “Why did you come?”

  “To bring Gramps to your party.”

  “Over here, darling.” An older man slowly stood and leaned upon his cane.

  Her heart pounding, she fished in her pocket for her inhaler. She turned away from both apparitions and took a couple quick puffs. When she turned back they were still there. And Carly and Adam wore grins the size of the Grand Canyon.

  Narrowing her eyes, she studied the one with the cane and dawning prevailed. “James?”

  “Wanna bait my hook, baby?”

  Momentarily clamping her hand over her mouth, she squealed with delight, “It is you. Glory be. You’re alive! Come here so I can see you.”

  He stepped close. “Of course I am. I promised you that before I left.” As her long-lost love drew her aside, she swept one lingering look over Jason. “Now don’t be falling for my grandson. That’ll hurt my feelings.”

  Carly giggled. “I’ve never seen her so befuddled. After tonight, she’s going to have a lot to think about.”

  Adam sidled up to her. “And she didn’t even see our cake yet.” He placed his hand at her waist. “You did good.”

  Jason rubbed his chin. “It was tempting to let her go on believing I was Gramps. To steal his girl. He’s so ornery, he deserved a good setdown.”

  “I saw your struggle,” Carly replied.

  He smiled at her and sent a warning glance Adam’s way. “But regardless of my own preferences, I wouldn’t do anything to spoil your party. Not tonight.”

  Adam warned, “No, but somebody else might.” He nodded toward Helen who was shooting Carly daggers from across the room. Helen pointed at the pile of presents. Feigning ignorance, Carly
looked the other way, not wanting to spoil the happy reunion taking place in the back corner of the room. When she looked back, however, Helen was headed to personally interrupt the conversation. After what appeared to be some emotional banter, she led Martha back to her chair and placed a gift on her lap.

  Gramps hobbled back to them, and Carly and the others watched the birthday girl open her gifts. When she opened the bag from Carly and Adam, Helen asked, “What’s that?”

  Martha steepled trembling hands to her mouth. Then rubbing her initials over the carving, she met James’s eyes. Carly could see Helen putting the pieces together. Martha looked right at Carly and mouthed, Thank you, and Carly felt more satisfied than she had in months. Peace flooded her soul.

  For at least five minutes. That is until Helen approached her with pinched lips, snatching her arm. “A moment, please.”

  Carly shrugged at the men and allowed Helen to draw her aside.

  “I see what you’re doing. Bringing that old flame to her party and stirring up foolish romantic notions. I had no idea spinsters like you entertained such thoughts.”

  The words stung deep, and she didn’t know how to explain her actions.

  “How do you think this will affect the family? Her children and grandchildren? Have you thought about that? My dad’s probably rolling in his grave. If you don’t nip this thing in the bud, I’m going to get you fired. You understand? I’ll not have you messing with my mom. That’s emotional abuse.”

  “I was just trying to help with her depression.”

  “There’s no way Mom can have a relationship. Not with the way her memory’s failing. Surely you’ve seen something’s snapped inside her since her last hospital stay?”

  Another slap. Why hadn’t she taken Martha’s recent confusion more seriously and reconsidered bringing an entirely new element into the fragile medical mix. “But everybody needs friendship and hope.”

  “Hope!” Helen dashed away angry tears. “You’ll be the one dashing those hopes. I’m going to Simon Lapp with this. You had no right. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been the one poisoning her with ideas about her family not caring. How could you?”