Healed: Stone and Pepper (Cliffside Bay Book 7)

by Tess Thompson

  “I can see why it’s a popular place to get married,” he said.

  Pepper pointed to the wooden cross that hung over the pulpit. “Especially if you want to get married in a church.” She let out a sigh. “I haven’t been in ages.”

  Stone wasn’t the most habitual church attendee, especially lately. His relationship with God was personal. He felt his presence when in nature or when he worked with his hands. “I haven’t been much either. Sometimes Violet drags me along.”

  “I loved church when I was a kid.” She picked up a stray Bible from one of the pews and held it against her chest. “What about you? Were you a choirboy?”

  He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jacket and made a face. “No one wanted me in the choir, trust me.”

  She laughed. “That’s where I got the entertainment bug—singing in the church.”

  He smiled, imagining a smaller version of Pepper standing up in front of the congregation. What had she looked like? All eyes in a small face? Gangly arms and legs?

  “My stepdad used to brag about me to all his friends about my solos. I pretended to be embarrassed, but I loved it.”

  “My dad said religion was for idiots who needed something to get them through the day. Ironic, given his worship of cheap whiskey. When she was around fourteen, Autumn wanted to go, so I started taking her.” Kyle had left for college by then and it was just the two of them and Dad, who’d faded into a nonperson by then. The car accident had transformed his sister from pretty cheerleader into a mangled mess of fragility. Her recovery took months. In the middle of the night, her cries from a bad dream or the throbbing pain in her legs would wake him. He’d bring her a pain reliever he’d stolen from the first aid kit at work and sit with her until she drifted back to sleep. On one of those nights she’d asked him if he would take her to church. Never able to say no to her, he’d agreed. At first, he’d attended with Autumn so she wouldn’t have to go alone, but after a time, the sermon messages seemed to be directed right at him. By the time he left for the Marines, both he and Autumn had been baptized.

  Pepper watched him, her body still for once. “Was it after her car accident?”

  “You know about that?”

  She set aside the Bible as her cheeks flooded pink. “I asked Violet about what caused her limp. Kind of nosy of me. I’m sorry.”

  “No, she doesn’t mind if people know.” He paused for a moment, thinking about his sister and how her lame leg shamed her, made her feel unlovable. “She’d rather have people ask than just stare at her with the obvious question planted on their face.” Both Autumn’s legs were marked with angry red scars from the accident and subsequent surgeries. Her left one, crushed in the accident, was misshapen, despite multiple surgeries. She never allowed anyone to see them, dressing in long skirts, boots or pants.

  Pepper’s expression darkened. “I get it.” She tilted her head downward. Curls fell over her cheek, hiding her expression from his view.

  “We were both lost and needed comfort. The church provided it.” He looked up at the cross. “It was good to have him with me over there…in Afghanistan.”

  “It was bad, wasn’t it?” With a soft expression in her eyes, she tapped the back of the pew, almost as if it were his shoulder.

  “It was. Yes.”

  “You don’t like to talk about it.”

  “That’s right.”

  She lifted her chin and looked him in the eyes. “I understand.”

  “I know.” An urge to take away all her pain almost made him stagger right there in the aisle of the church. His arms were heavy with the weight of their desire to reach out and pull her into him, comfort her, caress her hair and kiss her mouth until the sadness in her eyes departed. If God would grant his wish, he’d spend his life trying to ease her pain.

  “You really think we can pull a wedding off by December?” he asked. Stay in the lane of safer topics.

  Her face brightened. “I have no doubts whatsoever.” She moved from the aisle to stand in one of the rows. Her hands wrapped around the back of the pew. “Were you surprised they got engaged so quickly?”

  He grimaced, feeling disloyal to Rafael to admit his reservations. Especially since he was halfway to heedlessly in love with Pepper. He might just beat Rafael’s record. Would it happen in two days? Before the day was done? “I was. A little. I do believe when you know, you know. But I didn’t think he stood a chance in hell of winning her heart.”

  “Really? Why would you think that?” She asked the question as if genuinely curious rather than accusatory.

  “You two are beyond classy. Rafael and I are working-class guys.”

  “That’s very nice of you to say.” She gave a vehement shake to her head, making her glossy black curls bounce. “Lisa couldn’t care less about that. She fell for him the minute she met him. However, I didn’t think it would happen this fast.”

  “You didn’t think people can fall in love in three weeks?”

  “Three weeks? They were together three days and she called to tell me she was in love with him. I was a little worried, but I’m not now. Lisa knows her own mind. He obviously adores her. That said, if he hurts her, I swear to God, I will kill him.”

  “What if she hurts him?”

  She sucked in her bottom lip and stared at him for a moment. “Are you serious? Have you met Lisa? She feels bad when she slaps a mosquito. She’s not going to hurt him.”

  “Rafael would die before letting anything happen to her.”

  She suddenly looked so sad he wanted to scoop her into his arms and tell her he would be that man for her. Too soon. Take it slow.

  He resisted the urge to touch her by shoving his hands in his pockets. “Trust me, Pepper Shaker. Someday you’ll have a man in your life who feels that way about you.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction. “How’d you know that’s what I was thinking?”

  “It’s the same look my sister gets sometimes. I get it. Whenever I’m around Lisa and Rafael, my life seems pathetic.”

  She moved to his side and tilted her gaze upward. The glimmer of the glass windows stained her skin blue. “You’re hardly pathetic.”

  He did a quick tug of one of her curls before he could stop himself. “You’re magnificent.”

  She twisted her neck to look up at him. “Stone Hickman, did you just pull my hair?”

  “I’d like to do more than that.”

  Her chest rose and fell as she took in a deep breath. She turned to face him. Her eyes were the color of a silver star. “Like what?”

  It was his turn to have his breath hitch. “I’d like to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled. She shook her head, teasing him. “As sweet as that is, I don’t think you could get me the role of Hedda Gabler on Broadway.”

  “Hedda who?”

  “It’s a famous play. My father’s company is doing a revival of it for spring season. Hedda’s my dream part. I’m perfect for the role, but there will be a hundred others auditioning. They’ll give it to someone well known.” She shrugged. “As if my father would grant me an audition spot anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you about it some other time.”

  “What’s something I could give to you?” he asked. “Like right now.”

  She placed her palm against his chest, but kept her eyes fixed on his neck. Could she see how fast his pulse throbbed? “You could take me to a nice dinner and open the door and pull out my chair and charm me with your bad jokes and sweet smile.”

  This woman made it hard to breathe. He’d never known what the phrase take my breath away meant until now.

  “Pepper Griffin, will you give me the honor of taking you to dinner tonight?”

  “Nothing would please me more.” She tilted her chin upward. Her lips parted slightly.

  The time was now. He would kiss her. Leaning closer, he took one last look into her eyes to make sure he was reading her signa
ls right. He breathed in her scent and leaned closer.

  The doors of the church burst apart with a clamor and crash, like the parting of the great sea. They jumped apart like guilty teenagers.

  “Hello there.” A skinny man with an abundance of slicked-back black hair greeted them. Wearing a vintage-style suit with narrow, tapered ankles, he looked strangely like Buddy Holly. Stone expected him to belt out a tune rather than speak. “Pastor Jordan at your service. Sorry I’m late. The wife needed a little loving before I left.”

  Next to him, Pepper made a sound between a chortle and a gasp, then murmured, “Oh my.”

  “We’re trying to make a baby. One must answer to God’s time, not our own, but when the ovulation window’s open, it’s open. You know what I mean?”

  “Sure. You bet.” Stone bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.

  “God created an ovulation window for a reason.” Pepper’s tone was one of insouciance, as if it were a typical conversation to have in a church with a pastor they’d just met.

  He was crazy about this girl.

  “She has this app on her phone,” Pastor Jordan said, “that lights up like the word of God himself. And boom, it’s time.”

  Pastor Jordan might not pass the Mama Soto test. He made a mental note to tell Pepper they’d best keep this conversation under wraps.

  “Now, tell me about your friends,” Pastor Jordan said.

  Pepper launched into the biographies, covering Rafael’s heroic service to his country and Lisa’s dream to have her wedding in this little church.

  “That article was my idea.” Pastor Jordan smiled wide, revealing large, overly white teeth. “It’s not enough to preach the word of God. A good pastor these days needs a marketing mind.”

  “It certainly caught our eye,” Pepper said. “She had it on the refrigerator for years.”

  “Well, isn’t that sweet?” Pastor Jordan said.

  Pepper went on to explain about Lisa’s profession. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of her?”

  “Yes indeed. My wife loves Indigo Road.” Pastor Jordan’s eyes gleamed. “Now tell me about their beliefs. Are these people of God?”

  “Sure. I mean, they’re not like deacons or anything,” Pepper said, for the first time sounding nervous.

  “We do have a small fee for weddings,” Pastor Jordan said. “And we’re always appreciative of donations on top of that fee. We have a lot of needy families here in Emerson Pass that could sure use a boost up, especially around Christmastime.”

  “Of course. Lisa’s known for her generous heart. I can’t imagine she wouldn’t be more than willing to contribute to a good cause.”

  “Excellent. Let’s talk over the details in my office.” Pastor Jordan pointed to a door near the pulpit. “And secure the spot with a credit card.”

  “I think I’ll get some air,” he said to Pepper.

  She nodded and gave him an understanding smile. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  After they left, he wandered outside. Snow was now falling in large, fat flakes. At least a good inch had stuck since they’d been inside the church.

  He strolled across the lawn, enjoying the soft flakes on his face. The churchyard wasn’t much more than a patch of grass and a gravel parking lot. He found a wooden bench under an aspen around the corner from the main entrance. A silver plaque said, “In memory of Rebecca Sizemore: wife, mother, friend, child of God.”

  Wife. Mother.

  All day he’d been able to put aside the thoughts of Valerie and her spectacularly epic announcement. Frankly, the trip with Pepper couldn’t have come at a better time. Being near her made everything else in his life fade from consciousness. Unfortunately, out here in the fresh air, the events of yesterday came crashing in, pushing aside the fun of the last few hours.

  Kyle had texted that morning to enjoy the trip—he was taking care of the other thing. He actually referred to it as the other thing instead of our mother’s possible murder charge.

  His thoughts were interrupted when Pepper bounded down the stairs of the church. “We booked it.” Beaming, she dashed across the parking lot and threw herself into his arms. “Pastor Jordan has us on the calendar.” His arms wrapped around her waist. She wriggled like an exuberant puppy.

  Her ivory skin glowed pink from the cold. Flakes of snow caught in her black hair in an uneven pattern, reminding him of fine lace. He moved his gaze to her red mouth. If only Pastor Jordan hadn’t interrupted, he’d know what those lips felt like against his.

  Her chest rose and fell against him. A curl dropped over one eye. Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, he brought his hand to her face and swept the wayward lock away with a dart of his index finger. She flicked the tip of her tongue against her upper lip.

  “Rose Red,” he mumbled under his breath. That’s who she looked like. Rose Red from the fairy tale.

  “What did you say?”

  “You look like the character Rose Red from the children’s story.”

  The corners of her mouth lifted in a slow smile. “Isn’t that the one with the giant bear?”

  “I think so.” He couldn’t remember exactly. “All I know is I was in love with the picture of Rose Red in the storybook.”

  “I could fall in love with a giant bear,” she said. “As long as he was a gentle bear, like you.”

  “I’m not nearly as furry as a bear.”

  “I meant the gentle part, not the furry part.”

  His knees nearly buckled. His arms tightened around her waist. He would get his kiss now, under the falling snow. As before, she tilted her face toward him.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said as he dipped his mouth to hers.

  With perfect timing, the doors of the church opened and out came Pastor Jordan. This time, instead of jumping apart, Pepper started to laugh and rested her forehead against his chest.

  They disentangled as Pastor Jordan crossed over to them on his skinny legs and squinted into the dim light. “Still snowing. Weird for this time of year.”

  “Will we be able to drive in it?” Pepper asked.

  “Sure, won’t be more than a few inches,” Pastor Jordan said. “Heavy snowfall’s weeks away. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Great, we’re headed up to the Lake residence tomorrow,” Stone said.

  “Lake?” Pastor Jordan asked. “As in Ralph Lake?”

  “That’s right,” Pepper said. “We’re going to see about renting his house for the reception.”

  “It’d be a super choice,” Pastor Jordan said. “He spared no expense. Perfect location for a family party. As long as you don’t mind the ghosts.”

  “What?” Pepper flinched and moved closer to Stone. “Did you say ghosts?”

  Pastor Jordan laughed. “I’m teasing. It was just a rumor spread by the locals to scare the tourists. Not a bit of truth to it.”

  Pepper’s shoulders relaxed. She slipped her gloved hand into his, and he thought he might die of happiness.

  “Pastor, any recommendations for dinner?” Stone asked. “Something romantic?”

  “Can’t go wrong with Simon’s Bistro,” Pastor Jordan said. “Tell them I sent you. The owners are some of my best parishioners.”

  They said their goodbyes and hopped back into the rental.

  “You don’t really believe in ghosts?” Stone asked as they drove away from the church.

  “Kind of.”

  He laughed and poked her in the shoulder. “Not you, Pepper Shaker. You’re not afraid of anything.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m scared of ghosts, the dark…and clowns.”

  “Everyone’s afraid of clowns,” Stone said. “Even bears like me.”

  Her curls splayed over her pink cheek when she turned sideways to look at him. “If I had a bear with me, I might not be afraid of a silly clown.”

  “Bear at your service.”

  And when she beamed at him with the light of a million stars, he couldn’t imagine ever being without
her.

  Chapter 12

  Pepper

  That evening, at a table by the window, they drank Chianti from tumblers and dipped crusty warm bread into olive oil. Outside, snow danced under the light of the streetlamp. Inside, a candle flickered happily between them. Opera music played in the background. White tablecloths, dark paneling, and sections of exposed brick made her feel as if she were in Italy, not a mountain pass in Colorado.

  Pepper drifted to another place—a sanctuary far from her troubles and where everything but Stone Hickman faded from consciousness.

  He wore a pair of black jeans and a button-down shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. When he’d come by her room at the lodge to fetch her, his hair had still been damp and combed into obedient lines. By the time the antipasti arrived, those silky strands had dried and now fell over his forehead in rebellious waves. Occasionally he brushed the wayward locks aside with a quick flick of his wrist. However, other than to take a bite of food or to sip from his glass, his gaze never left her. Emboldened by this unfiltered adoration and attention, she chattered on, answering his questions and telling stories of her life.

  She told him of the summer she’d spent in Europe with her parents, recalling the apartment they’d rented in Paris and of high-speed trains to Italy, Spain, and Germany. She shared how the trip had changed her perspective and exposed her to art and history and awakened a deep love of historical fiction.

  Over the second glass of wine and the pasta course brought by the formal white-haired server with posture like a dancer, she told him the story of her short and unfortunate driving career. He doubled over with laughter as she described the terror on the instructor’s face when she hit the poor man. “I decided right then and there that driving was not for me.”

  “I could teach you. I taught my sister.”

  “I’d prefer to be driven, thank you very much.”

  That made him laugh again. “I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go.”

  Their server poured more wine into their glasses as they twisted the pasta around their forks and murmured with pleasure at the explosion of tomato and garlic on their tongues.