The Wishing Season (A Chapel Springs Romance Book 3)

by Denise Hunter

  “Cole. You scared me.”

  “Thought you were Shaundra.”

  They spoke simultaneously.

  “I was just—getting the newspaper,” he said.

  PJ held up the book, her heart hammering. “My cookbook. Shaundra borrowed it. I’m making coq au vin for Friday, but my recipe isn’t right, the chicken was overcooked, and I thought I’d—”

  Shut it, PJ! She clamped her lips closed.

  She felt his eyes on her in the dark, heard him draw a deep, quiet breath, as if he were breathing her in.

  She stilled. Even her breath seemed to freeze in her lungs. Did he miss her? Did he regret breaking up? Did he lie awake at night too, remembering their kisses?

  “Cole . . .”

  “I should get to bed . . . Good night.” He took the steps to the attic, seemingly forgetting about the newspaper.

  PJ’s breath escaped, his sudden departure leaving her drained and tired.

  Chapter Forty-One

  THE NEXT DAY PJ WAS RESTLESS. SHE KEPT REVIEWING THE moment in the hallway and wondering if she’d imagined the breath he’d drawn. She must’ve. He was the one who’d broken up with her. If he missed her he wouldn’t be working all hours, hiding upstairs, and sneaking breaths of her.

  She worked on her presentation most of the morning. Mrs. Simmons had sent them an e-mail explaining the information they should include and how the day would work. They would meet at the town hall and give their presentations to the board. Cole would go first, opposite of last time. Mrs. Simmons would announce the winner the next day. She’d arranged for an interview with the Gazette for the winner and a feature in Southern Indiana.

  PJ’s numbers looked very promising. She had all the right things on paper. The restaurant, while slow in the winter, had picked back up. She’d gotten endorsements from several VIPs, including the mayor, and was including Maeve Daughtry’s glowing review. She also had a newspaper article on local job growth that had mentioned her restaurant.

  On the B & B front she had quotes from the tourist board about the community’s need for additional lodging. She had a very compelling case, with facts and figures to back it up.

  So why did she feel so down? Why did the thought of winning the house no longer excite her as it once had? Why did she still feel empty inside even though she’d done exactly what she’d set out to accomplish?

  She was tired of mulling this over. She closed her laptop and set it on her nightstand.

  Ten minutes later she entered her mom’s antique shop. The bell tinkled in welcome, and the familiar musty smell of Grandma’s Attic assaulted her.

  Her mom slipped from her office, her face lighting up. “PJ, what a lovely surprise.”

  PJ hugged her. “Hi, Mom.”

  Mom returned the embrace, then ran her hands across PJ’s shoulders and down her arms. “You’re losing weight. Are you eating?”

  “I’m a chef, Mom, of course I’m eating.” Just maybe not enough.

  “Come to my office. I was just having lunch.”

  Her mom’s office was more like a turn-of-the-century sitting room, complete with wingback chairs and fireplace. A Turkish rug cushioned the wood floor. PJ perched on the edge of the rose-colored sofa across from her mother.

  Mom pushed half her chicken salad sandwich across the coffee table. “Eat.”

  PJ wasn’t hungry, but she knew better than to argue. “This is tasty,” she said after taking a bite. “Grapes, almonds . . . nice flavor.” She’d add some curry and a pinch of salt. Less celery.

  “It’s Deb Tackett’s recipe—she brought it to the last Rotary meeting.”

  “Nice. Store been busy?”

  “Not too bad. I finally sold that French armoire, the one in the front by the old telephone booth?”

  “That green monstrosity?”

  Mom pursed her lips. “It was just waiting for the right buyer. And I made a nice profit. How about you? How are you feeling? Is your anxiety better?”

  “I haven’t had an attack in weeks. My lab work came back normal at my last checkup. Dr. Lewis said my thyroid has stabilized.”

  “That’s great, honey. And you won’t have any more episodes?”

  She shrugged. “I have to get regular lab work to keep an eye on it, but he seemed encouraged.”

  “I haven’t seen you in over a week. The restaurant must be busy.”

  “It has been. If we weren’t so close to the deadline, I’d have hired more help a few weeks ago.”

  She took another bite of her sandwich. As it was, she could hardly expect people to apply when there was a fifty-fifty shot of losing their job come June 1. She was days away from possibly losing everything she’d worked the last year for. At the thought, she waited for the anxiety to kick in, but it never arrived. Not even when she reminded herself of the loan.

  Her thoughts turned to Cole instead, and she wondered how he was faring. She wondered if he’d selected his next round of kids, just in case. She wondered who they were and where they’d come from—what would happen to them if Cole lost the house.

  “Speaking of the deadline,” Mom said, “how’s your presentation coming along?”

  And there it was. How did her mom manage to know exactly what was bugging her?

  PJ set down the remainder of the sandwich and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I think I’ve made a really strong case. I’m turning a profit, the community response has been great, and everyone knows we need more housing around here.”

  “But . . .”

  The smile slid from PJ’s face. What was wrong with her? This was everything she wanted. She’d barely made it through the winter, but in the future she’d have a full tourist season of profitability to carry her through. And a B & B would be more lucrative than the restaurant.

  “I don’t know, Mom. Something’s missing.”

  “From the proposal?”

  If only it were that easy. Her eyes darted to her mother. “From me.”

  Mom set down her sandwich and tilted her head, her blue eyes questioning.

  “I wanted this so badly a year ago. And the more I worked at it, the more I wanted it. I wanted to prove that I could do it, you know? To the family. And maybe to myself too.”

  “To us?”

  PJ sighed. “I know you all love me, Mom, but everyone’s always second-guessing me and thinking I need help and can’t do it on my own, and I guess I just wanted to prove that I was capable. I was so busy trying to prove myself when I got out of school that I lost perspective. It’s been all about that and not about what I want.”

  “You don’t want the restaurant and B & B?”

  “Yes, I do. I do want it.” But at the expense of Cole’s dream? “I worked hard, and the restaurant is really viable. I have a good shot at winning, and I still . . . I just thought I’d feel differently. I don’t like the way I feel about myself. Like I’m not capable, despite the evidence to the contrary.”

  Mom covered PJ’s hand. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I guess . . . you’re our baby . . . we want to take care of you. We never meant to make you doubt yourself. Of course you’re capable. God made you a bright, competent young woman.”

  “I don’t feel that way.”

  “Feelings can be misleading. Remember that scripture . . . the heart is deceitful above all things? If your heart’s telling you you’re not capable, it’s lying. What’s God telling you?”

  PJ made a face. “Honestly? I haven’t asked in a while. I’ve been too busy trying to make a success of myself.”

  Mom squeezed her hand. “Well, it’s never too late. We all have thorns, you know.”

  “Thorns?”

  “Those things that rise up around us, strangling us. Thorns don’t keep a seed from sprouting, but they’ll keep it from producing fruit. You have so many good things ahead of you, PJ.”

  “But I’ve made so many bad decisions.” Like Keaton and virtually every boy she’d dated before him. Had the house been a
mistake too?

  Mom squeezed her hand. “We all make bad decisions sometimes. Cut that thorn away, and see how God nourishes your life.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  PJ KNOCKED ON RYAN’S DOOR, BALANCING HER WILD BERRY cheesecake on her other hand. She’d finished her proposal last night, but she still felt disquiet in her soul. Tomorrow was the big day.

  She’d been praying hard over the last week since she’d talked with her mom, getting back to her devotions. She had a feeling her self-doubt wasn’t going away overnight, but it was time to put things in her life back in order. Get back on track. She had new clarity about that.

  About the house, not so much.

  Ryan swung the door open.

  “I come bearing edible gifts.”

  “In that case, come on in.”

  She ducked under his arm. “How was work?”

  “Not bad.”

  She took in the room on her way to the kitchen. “Hey, the living room is looking great. I didn’t think you’d have enough things to fill it out.”

  “Everything I own is in this room except my bed.”

  She set the cheesecake and topping on the butcher-block island and scanned the room. The kitchen floor had been under construction when they’d moved him in, so she hadn’t seen this room. Marble counters topped the rustic blue cabinets. A small window over the farm sink overlooked the backyard. It was old and quaint and lacked the little touches like curtains and cookie jars and dish towels, but she immediately thought of Abby. His ex-wife would’ve loved it.

  “Thanks for the cheesecake.”

  Her eyes swept over the range and she gasped. “A Wedgewood! A white vintage Wedgewood double oven with a gas stovetop and six burners! What a beauty.”

  “It probably doesn’t even work.”

  Her head snapped around. “You mean you don’t know? You’ve been here three months! Didn’t I teach you anything in class?”

  “What can I say? I’m a bachelor, and that thing is ancient.” He gestured to the microwave and toaster. “Those are the only appliances I’ll ever need.”

  PJ patted the glossy range. “Shhh. He didn’t mean it, baby.”

  Ryan rummaged through a drawer, coming up with a knife. “I’m going to slice this sucker. Want some?”

  “No thanks.”

  When he had his slice they retired to the back porch. It was smaller than the one at the Wishing House, but the Adirondack chairs were a nice touch. “These new?”

  “Yeah.”

  The yard was big and shaded by thick oak trees. Somewhere nearby, the buzz of a mower droned. She inhaled the smell of freshly cut grass. “You need some flowers back here, maybe a hanging basket.”

  “I have about as much skill there as you.” He forked a strawberry. “So what are you doing over here? Besides trying to fatten me up.”

  PJ shrugged. “Zac and Josh moved out on Friday, and Shaundra moved to Vincennes on Sunday. The house is too quiet.” Next door a couple picnicked with their two small children. “Are the neighbors nice?”

  He glanced up at the little family, his face going sad. “Yeah, they’re great.” His eyes shifted to the tire swing, then back to his plate.

  She wanted to ask him about Abby, but last time hadn’t gone too well. “You doing okay?” she asked instead. “You seem kind of . . . down.”

  “I know what you mean about a quiet house. You were right, what you said a few months ago. It gets a little lonely around here.” He scraped up a bit of cheesecake and dragged it through the sauce. “But I’ll be fine. I have work to keep myself busy . . . football . . . the fire department . . . reality shows.”

  She wanted so much more than that for him. He was a good man, and he had so much love to give. “You should go out more. I could set you up with one of my friends . . . I was just talking to—”

  “No. No more blind dates. My last one . . .” He shuddered, then finished off the last of the cheesecake and set the plate aside. “You were right about something else.”

  “Wow, two things in one day.”

  The wind rustled his dark hair as he looked out over the yard. She knew he was thinking about Abby, and as much as she wanted to ask, patience was key with Ryan. He’d tell her when he was ready, and not a second before.

  “I’m not over her,” he said finally. “I’ve tried to date other women, but . . . they’re just not Abby, you know? I miss her.”

  “I’m sorry, Ryan.”

  “I have a lot of regrets. I should’ve done things differently. Should’ve tried harder, loved her better. She deserved that.”

  “Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, no matter how hard you try.” Heartbreak was bittersweet. She was learning that for herself.

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you ever, you know, think of trying again, with Abby?”

  He breathed a laugh. Crossed his arms. She could tell by the look on his face he thought about it all the time.

  “You know what the last thing she said to me was?” He looked at PJ. “She said, ‘It’s over this time, Ryan. Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t even look at me. We’re done.’ And then she moved two hundred miles away just to make sure.”

  The sheen in his eyes nearly broke her heart. “I’m sorry, Ryan.” She wished there were something she could do. Something she could say. But she couldn’t heal Ryan’s heart. She couldn’t even heal her own.

  He sat back in his chair, drew a deep breath, and seemed to shake off some of the melancholy. “So . . . what happened with you and Cole? Madison just said things didn’t work out.”

  That’s pretty much the explanation PJ had given to everyone. She shrugged and told him about Lizzy’s death and Cole’s change of heart upon his return. Then she told him about the accident that had taken his family.

  “I don’t know, Ryan. He’s lost so much, and he blames himself for his family’s death.”

  “That’s a lot of weight to carry.”

  She remembered the look on Cole’s face when he’d told her about the accident, those haunted eyes, and wondered if he blamed himself for Lizzy’s death too. For not being there, for not knowing.

  “Maybe that’s part of the reason he started that house,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe he’s trying to make up for what he thinks he did. Sometimes guilt makes people do things so they can compensate for past mistakes. Maybe every time he saves a kid, it’s like he’s saving his family. A do-over.”

  The explanation pulled a curtain from PJ’s eyes. A do-over. Was that what Cole was doing? “Oh my gosh.”

  “Sometimes I can be right too.”

  “He couldn’t save his family, but he can save others. Is that even healthy?”

  “I don’t see why not, as long as he comes to realize he wasn’t at fault to begin with.”

  “I told him it wasn’t his fault.” She thought of her own issues with self-doubt. Just because people told her she was capable didn’t mean her heart believed it. “But it’s not that easy, is it?”

  “It’s a start.”

  She had a fresh understanding now about believing things that weren’t true. She’d done the same thing. The lies they’d each told themselves had wreaked havoc inside. Lord, show him the truth. Show me the truth.

  Her heart wrenched to think of the self-blame he’d lived with all these years. She wanted to tell him over and over it wasn’t his fault until he believed it. She wanted to take him in her arms and soothe away the pain. But she didn’t have that right anymore.

  “Do you love him?”

  Her heart clenched. She yearned for his touch. She wanted what was best for him.

  She thought of tomorrow and all the changes it would bring. One of them would be moving from the house. The thought of Cole leaving Chapel Springs stole her breath. The thought of taking his dream made her ache all over.

  “Hey.” Ryan nudged her foot with the toe of his tennis shoe. “If you do, don’t let him walk out of your life. If
there’s anything I’ve learned through all this with Abby, it’s that regret makes a very poor companion.”

  Ryan understood her misery. Alone in this big house. Would that be her, one week from now? “I know what you mean about missing Abby. I miss Cole so much—and we still live in the same house.”

  “Until tomorrow.”

  Yes, everything would change tomorrow. She thought of her presentation on her laptop, all her i’s dotted, all her t’s crossed. She had a strong chance of winning. A strong chance of taking away Cole’s dream—his do-over.

  Her stomach knotted at the thought. Could she do that? Did she even want to? What would that do to him? And so soon after losing Lizzy?

  A bright light flashed on in her mind, providing sharp clarity. She did love Cole. So much. And if she loved him, she couldn’t take away something he needed so badly.

  If she loved him, she’d sacrifice her own desires for him.

  She popped to her feet. “I have to go.” She rushed past Ryan and into the house.

  “What’d I say?” Ryan called.

  She threw a hand in the air. “I’ll talk to you later. There’s something I have to do.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  PJ ENTERED THE TOWN HALL ON TREMBLING LEGS. SHE HAD practiced her presentation all morning. Because of a scheduling conflict with a board member, Cole’s presentation had ended over an hour ago.

  She sat in the lobby, cradling her laptop. Her leg bounced up and down. Settle down, PJ. She had to make this happen for Cole. Surely Mrs. Simmons would see what a treasure Crossroads was. How badly these kids needed his help. Just look at what he’d done with Zac, Josh, and Shaundra in nine months.

  The door opened, and Mrs. Simmons greeted her with a delicate embrace. “PJ, dear, how lovely to see you.”

  “You’re looking well, Mrs. Simmons.”

  “Oh, the Colorado climate agrees with me. And all those great-grandchildren are keeping me young. Come in, come in, the board is all here. Snowball too. I just can’t bear to leave her more than a few days.”

  PJ followed the shuffling woman into the large open hall, her heels echoing on the wood floor. Snowball sat regally on the end of the table, her tail flicking silently.