“I bought salve.”
He shook his head. “Air is best. Trust me on this.”
Not even hesitating for a second, she nodded. The phone rang. “Excuse me, Brandon.”
As she hurried to the phone, he bent to pick up a bag she’d set on the floor. He peered inside. Bandages, witch hazel, peroxide, Merthiolate, salve, a tube of antibiotic ointment, cotton balls—the silly woman practically bought out the drug store. But that wasn’t why he smiled. She’d listened to his opinion and ignored all of her grandiose first-aid plans because she trusted him. A man couldn’t ask for more—except for her heart.
❧
“Babe,” Brandon said as Della clicked her seat belt, “I’ve never eaten better lasagna. In fact, I’ve never eaten better chow, period.”
She took the plate from him. “If you take me home, you can have seconds.” Laughter bubbled out of her as he slammed the door and scrambled straight across the hood.
“Hey—I’m not wasting any time. I’ve seen how your brothers eat!” A few seconds later, Brandon shot her an exasperated look. “Stinkin’ road work.”
“You just complained a week ago about the potholes through here.”
“That was before lasagna and your brothers were on the other end of the road!” A pained look crossed his face. “They’ve probably decimated the garlic bread, too.”
“You already had three big slices!”
“I’d go for more, but you need a slice”—he waggled his brows—“to eat it in self-defense. Otherwise, you might not put up with me.”
“I’ll put up with you—anytime, anywhere.”
The jeep coasted to a stop at a light. “Good thing, because you’re not getting rid of me.”
The certainty in his voice gave her an assurance she’d never had. Bless his heart, Brandon hadn’t let her brothers or dad irritate him away. He’d accepted her as she was and taught her how to be more self-sufficient. He lived the SEAL’s theme—“The only easy day was yesterday!”—and challenged her to test her own limits. Because of him, she’d discovered new strengths in herself, new abilities, new feelings.
“Truth is—” Brandon gripped the steering wheel tightly.
A loud honk made them both jump.
“Alright, alright,” he groused as he stepped on the accelerator.
Della wiggled to sit sort of sideways so she could see him better. “What’s the truth?”
“When I set my mind on something, I go for it.”
“Yes, you’re stubborn. I noticed that right away. I’ve never had a customer hang on to damaged merchandise and insist they still want to buy it.”
“Give me a challenge, I’ll rise to it.”
“You’ll soar past it.” Della adjusted the visor to block the late afternoon sun. “You don’t settle for okay—you always want stupendous.”
“Like you.”
“I never thought of it that way, but yes. Like me. I don’t want to settle for mediocre. Funny—we’re almost opposite in most ways, but in others, we’re so much alike.”
He shook his head. “Della, I wasn’t trying to point out our similarities.”
“Oh.” She tugged at the shoulder belt to hide her disappointment. “Well, I sort of figured that you like me.”
“I don’t like you,” he half-roared, “I love you!”
“He loooooooves youuuu!” a teenaged boy in the car next to them repeated back in loud, saccharine sarcasm, then cackled and zoomed off.
“And now the whole world knows,” Brandon said as he made a turn onto her street and parked in the driveway beside Justin’s car. He looked her in the eyes. “I’m not sorry it does. . .but I’d planned on telling you that someplace a little more private or romantic.”
Happiness flooded her. “Brandon—”
“Hey, Sis!” Gabe shouted from the porch.
She groaned.
“Later,” Brandon muttered under his breath.
She nodded as Gabe continued to holler, “We’re out of soda. Why don’t you two go get more?”
“I have some in the trunk of my car,” she called back.
A few minutes later, she and Brandon joined her dad and brothers at the table. They’d already scraped the first pan of lasagna clean. Della grabbed a spatula and rapped Justin’s knuckles when he lifted his plate for more.
“Brandon?”
He grinned and slid both his plate and hers right next to the pan. “Ready when you are.”
“No one’s ever going to be ready for Della,” Justin grumbled.
Della cut a huge chunk of lasagna and held it over Brandon’s plate. There, in front of her family, she looked at Brandon and said, “Brandon? About what you said earlier—I love you, too.”
❧
“How are the blisters?”
Brandon shoved Nathan’s arm. “What’s it to you?”
“Hey—I wondered if you needed a couple days’ medical leave.” A teasing smile lit his boss’s face. “I heard they were bad.”
“I wouldn’t have thought Jim would blab.”
“He didn’t. Valene did.”
“I should have guessed. Forget it. If anything, I thought maybe you’d back out on tonight.” Actually I hoped you would. I can think of a few million other places I’d rather be.
“No way.”
“Is your wife going to be okay?” Brandon took a seat in the stadium and gave Nathan a worried look. “I spotted Vanessa yesterday when I took Della to the shop. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t like how your wife looks. I thought maybe you’d stay home with her or something.”
Nathan grinned. “Nothing’s wrong with Van that another eight months won’t cure.”
“No kidding? Congrats!”
“Thanks.” Nathan beamed. “We’re totally stoked. What a blessing, you know?”
“Yeah.” Brandon nodded. He couldn’t help thinking of Della, picturing her all rounded with child—his child.
Things were good between them, and since they’d finally broken down and admitted their love for one another, he’d been marching around with a fool’s grin plastered on his face. He’d even dared to make a few veiled references about the future. Funny, how he was usually so straightforward, but with Della, he hadn’t charged ahead. Some things deserved time. The old-fashioned word courting came to mind.
He wanted Della to feel cherished and certain. Marriage was a forever thing. One trip down the aisle, one mate for life. As their relationship deepened, Brandon had come to the point of knowing he wanted her by his side for the rest of their lives. From their first meeting, he’d been enchanted by her, intrigued and amused. . .and each time, things got better. Never before had he used the word love. With Della, there was no choice—she embodied all he could ever hope for in a wife-to-be. He’d do everything possible to make her happy. And though a jog down the aisle tomorrow would suit him just fine, Brandon resolved to let this whole romance unfold in such a way that her every dream came true.
If anyone knew I was this besotted, they’d never let me live it down. He cleared his throat to cover the chuckle that bubbled up.
“So what do you think?”
Nathan’s question pulled him from his musings. Brandon looked around. “Pretty hard to believe a bunch of men fill a stadium, and it’s not for sports.”
Nathan merely chuckled.
“This better be good,” Brandon continued. He shot his boss a sideways glance. “You know I’m not into all this Holy Roller stuff.”
“It’s a three-night thing, and you’re off the hook tomorrow and the next night if you don’t want to come. No pressure.”
Brandon nodded curtly. He fully expected to cash in on that provision. He’d come because Nathan wasn’t just a boss—he was a friend. Since leaving the SEALs, Brandon missed the camaraderie he’d shared with his team. For six years they’d trained together, worked together, practically lived in each others’ pockets. Nathan hadn’t just given him work to do—he’d given him a dream job and offered his fri
endship. Brandon took his measure that first day and knew full well Nathan Adams was a man he could count on.
Their working relationship and friendship took on a new significance when Nathan asked him to play baseball. That little invitation gave Brandon the opportunity to bump into Della again. . . .
Yeah. One night of hellfire and brimstone. I can take it.
Brandon scanned the stadium. A platform with several microphones sat dead center of the field. A set of drums promised music of some sort. I’d rather listen to Jesus-Loves-You music than a long-winded preacher.
A weaselly looking guy got up and welcomed everyone. Brandon winced. There stood a man who personified his idea of a Christian man—wimpy, indecisive, needing the crutch of religion.
“I praise God for my weakness,” the man said in an unsteady tone, “because in my weakness, His strength is made perfect. . . .”
Nathan murmured, “Bill was once a world-class weight lifter. He’s got cancer.”
Like a grenade, the words blew all of Brandon’s pre-conceived notions to bits. The music that followed wasn’t half-bad. . .until a strapping man with military bearing strode across the platform. The guy squares his corners. Either he’s still in, or he just got out.
He got in front of the mike. Even from the distance, Brandon could see how he grinned. “I’m sure a bunch of you men are going to pick up on this real quick. If you ever served Uncle Sam, you got a different version of the words.” He paused while chuckles rumbled through the crowd. “So join in with me. . . .”
Yeah, join in. Not a chance. I haven’t known a single one of these songs.
The song leader stepped back from the mike and belted out, “I don’t know, but I’ve been told. . . .”
How many miles had Brandon marched, jogged, run with a full pack to those words? Out of sheer habit, he sang back, “I don’t know, but I’ve been told. . . .”
“The devil’s trying to keep my soul.”
Well, it was a song. Brandon didn’t believe the devil had much to do with his soul, but he sang along.
“Did some things, and I’m not proud. . . . Some alone, some with the crowd. . . .”
Ouch. Those words struck a cord. Brandon tried to live a good life, but he had some stuff he wished he hadn’t done.
“Count ’em,” the resonant cadence went on.
“One, two. . .” Brandon sang along.
“Count ’em.”
“Three, four. One, two, three, four.” Only they weren’t just words. Each number stood for something he’d done wrong. His chest went tight. A million thoughts and memories speared through his mind.
“Jesus died for all my sins. . . . I only have to ask Him in. . . . All my past is washed away. . . . All I have to do is pray. . . .”
Brandon didn’t hear a word of the message. The cadence kept drumming through his mind.
Eleven
At the end of the evening, he walked out of the stadium and over to Nathan’s truck.
Nathan slammed the door and turned to him. “What did you think?”
“Not bad. I guess I can take another night of it.”
“Bet you felt right at home with Jonesy singing cadence. You belted out the words like you’d been a SEAL or something,” Nathan teased.
“Yeah, or something.” Brandon strove to hide behind a wry response. He had too much to think about, too much to process. They drove in silence until they passed the place he was renovating.
“Wanna show me what you’ve been up to here?”
Brandon grinned. “Sure.”
They walked around the old building. Brandon summed up the overall accomplishments. “All the rot’s gone. Had to strip it down to the bones in places and completely redo it. The lines are still the same, but she’s stronger, better—more functional.
Nathan nodded. “Looking great. You’ve proven yourself worthy of my confidence. How are we on budget?”
“It didn’t come cheap. I still have work to do.”
“Life’s like that—the things that matter most often are the most costly.”
Brandon leaned into a doorframe. “You’re not talking about the project, are you?”
“If it’s all you want to discuss, I am. If you feel like talking about something else, I’m available.”
Brandon stayed silent. I don’t know. But I’m not a coward. I have to face this. May as well do it now as later. “Sure your wife doesn’t need you?”
“Van and Val are having a girls’ night.” Nathan’s face scrunched into a look just short of agony. “If I go home before midnight, I’ll be forced to watch old Doris Day movies.”
“Fate worse than death, huh?”
“You got it. I married a great woman, but her taste in movies stinks. So believe me, you’re not keeping me from anything.”
Okay, Stevens. Time’s up. Handle it. He cleared his throat. “Nothing’s black and white. At least, I never thought it was.”
“But you’re reconsidering that premise?”
Brandon nodded curtly. “Even in war, you don’t just have combatants. There are neutral parties. I always figured that was me. God and the devil were welcome to duke it out, and I’d just stay clear of it all.”
Nathan plopped down on a stepladder. “And now?”
“I never thought about the whole thing being polarized. A world war. You’re on one side or the other. In the call-and-response, that guy singing cadence hit a nerve.”
Nathan nodded.
“I’ve done good stuff, but I’ve also done things I regret. I sorta figured there’s going to be a giant balance at the end of life, and as long as the good outweighs the bad, I’ll get a pass into heaven. Only it’s not that way, is it?”
“No, it’s not. You can’t be on both sides.”
Brandon shook his head. “I’m not sure how to process it.”
“In the end, you have to chose whom you serve.”
“At what cost?” Brandon cut to the heart of the matter. “Why?”
“Because you’re like this place was.” Nathan swept his hand in an arc. “Parts of you are solid, but parts are rotten. If you’re really going to be all you can be, you have to be willing to let God strip out the bad and rebuild you in His image. Sometimes, the process is a joy; other times, it’s painful. In the end, I can promise you’ll be glad of the results.”
Brandon digested that analogy then said, “You didn’t mention the cost.”
“The cost was Christ. He paid the price. We don’t have anything God wants except our hearts.”
“So according to the cadence, we pray, and Jesus washes away our sins. Then what?”
“We obey.” Nathan let out a long, gusty sigh. “It’s not always easy. I blow it sometimes. It’s not about me being perfect, though. It’s about me being willing to do my best and seeking forgiveness when I blow it. I can’t say what the cost is ever going to be—not for me, not for anyone else. What I do know is, God loves me and wants only what’s best in the long run. Faith in His wisdom is why I obey.”
Kicking the opposite side of the doorframe with the toe of his work boot, Brandon said, “Like following a superior’s order, hoping he’s got intel that you don’t?”
“Yep.” A slow smile lit Nathan’s face. “Only God is the ultimate in wisdom. You can always count on the intel when it comes down from Him.”
“Slick.”
“If you mean it’s trite, I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise. The simplicity of salvation is undeniable.”
“Black and white,” Brandon said. “And I was satisfied living in the gray zone.”
“Was?” Nathan studied him.
Brandon stayed quiet for a long count. When faced with truth, though, a man had to take a stand. His moment of truth had come.
“I’ve always viewed myself as one of the good guys. I guess it’s time I joined the right side, huh? Think God would take me?”
“I know He will.”
❧
“Three nights in a row?”
Della clamped the phone between her jaw and shoulder while arranging a new headpiece in the case. Tiaras and pearl-studded bands winked and glittered like promises of happily-ever-afters.
“We’ll go out tomorrow night,” Brandon said. “What would you like to do?”
“How about dinner and a movie?”
“Sounds great.” Hammers pounded in the background. “Hang on a sec, Babe. It’s too noisy in here. . . . Better now?”
“Yes. What are you doing today?”
“Jim Martinez hooked me up with a bunch of vintage molding and ceiling panels. We’re installing all of it in the big rooms along the beach side of the building.”
“Oh, tell me you’re going to paint them all white.”
“Why white?”
“Because it’ll look fresh and clean and airy. . . .”
“And?” he prodded as if he knew she’d left out something. He’d gotten good at reading between the lines.
“And because I plan to book rehearsal dinners and wedding receptions there. If you chose something dreary or dark, it’ll spoil everything.”
He chuckled. “We couldn’t have that, could we?”
“Absolutely not.”
His voice went muffled for a moment, “Yeah. No. Then take it all down and redo it. It’s got to be level.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, Babe. Sorry. Ran into a minor disaster.”
“It sounds as if you have it under control.”
“Give it ten minutes. Another is bound to come up. It’s been one of those days.” He let out a pained chortle. “You ought to be glad we’re not going out tonight. If my luck held, we’d have a flat tire, and we’d contract food poisoning.”
“Hold it right there! You just keep your distance then.” She laughed. “Hey. Speaking of food. . .how did that pantry idea work out?”
“Great. Even got Vanessa’s approval. If you have any other brainstorms, let me know.”
“See? Listen to me, and even your boss’s wife is happy. Would I steer you wrong?”
Brandon’s deep laughter rumbled over the line, making her shiver with pleasure. “I certainly hope not.”
Love Worth Finding Page 7
