Laurel’s stomach twisted like a pretzel as she watched him walk away. How selfish could she be? The pastor and most everyone else in town knew she was a single mother and that she’d never been married. So why had she been so afraid to tell the truth about Wes? And how would that decision impact Sarah-Jane?
Her eyes momentarily closed. Oh, Lord, please help me find a way to make this right.
* * *
Wes eased his truck to a stop in front of Irma’s house a few hours later, after lunch with Rae. He’d never been prouder than when Laurel referred to him as Sarah-Jane’s daddy yesterday. The way it seemed to just tumble out sounded so natural. So when she introduced him to the pastor as Rae’s brother, it had felt like a kick in the gut. And here he’d thought their relationship was improving, especially after she’d told him about her own father yesterday.
Getting out of his truck, he threw the door closed and started up the walk, eyeing a squirrel that darted across the lawn. He had done everything he could to assure her he was all in for Sarah-Jane. Yet Laurel still didn’t trust him. Either that, or she didn’t want him in the picture. Didn’t want someone else to have a say in Sarah-Jane’s life. Laurel was used to going it alone, after all. What if she saw him as a threat? One she hoped to stop.
He would not let that happen.
What can I do when I’m half a world away?
The only thing he could—trust God to go to battle for him.
With a sigh, he climbed the steps onto Irma’s front porch. Yesterday things had appeared so promising. Now he and Laurel had to find a way around this new pothole in their relationship.
Unlocking the front door, he strode inside the old Victorian home, noting that the humidity in the house had lowered considerably. Just what he’d been hoping for when he decided to keep the place closed up for the weekend, leaving the blowers and air conditioner running for the past forty-eight hours. The lower the humidity, the faster things would dry out.
After depositing the keys and his notepad atop the nearest box in the parlor, he retrieved the moisture meter from his back pocket and headed into the family room, where the bulk of the water had been. Fortunately, the joists that remained had only been impacted by water from the collapse itself, as opposed to the wood that had been absorbing moisture from the leak for who knew how long. That wood now rested at the bottom of the dumpster in Irma’s driveway.
The drywall was another concern, however. Despite having pulled off the baseboards that first day, it was hard to tell how much water could have leached up any given wall prior to that.
Dropping to one knee on the wooden floor, he touched the sensor pins to a lower section of the wall that had been home to the bookcases. Pleased with the reading, he tested one of the wooden planks on the floor. Damage to the floors had actually been one of his greatest fears. If any of them were warped, they’d have to be sanded and refinished. Not only would that take more time than he had, it also meant Irma would be displaced even longer. His hope was that, since they’d been able to attack things so quickly with the shop vacs, they’d be fine. And from the looks of things in the family room, it appeared he just may have gotten his wish.
He continued with the meter, into the hallway and around to the bedroom, until he was convinced they’d actually be able to get started on the repairs this week. Then he returned to the parlor and scooped up his notepad to start making a list of supplies.
“Hello.”
Wes lifted his head at the unfamiliar voice.
“Wes, are you in here?”
Leaving his notes atop a box, he turned and moved into the entry hall to see Pastor Kleinschmidt poking his head through the door.
“Oh, there you are.” The man who looked to be ten to fifteen years older than Wes’s forty years smiled and slipped inside. “I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear it.”
“No, these air movers make it kind of difficult to hear anything.” They practically had to yell to be heard. “Stand by.” With that, Wes moved into the bedroom and family room to turn off the units, all the while wondering why the pastor would be looking for him.
With only the hushed sounds of the blowers upstairs remaining, he rejoined the man in the entry hall.
“Your sister told me you were here.” The pastor’s suit from this morning had been replaced with jeans and a polo shirt, and a pair of sunglasses were perched atop his bald head, making him appear much more casual. “I hope you don’t mind me just dropping by like this.”
“Not at all.” Though Wes was definitely curious.
The man’s dark gaze drifted to the parlor, his eyes widening as he took in everything from furniture to boxes to a queen-size mattress. “Looks like you all had quite an undertaking.”
“We certainly did, especially since time was of the essence. But thanks to your congregation, we got it done quicker than I’d ever imagined.”
“They are a wonder. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to help out.” He looked at Wes. “I was down in south Texas at a church conference.”
“Well, it’s not like anyone planned for this, but God provided. And, thankfully, Irma wasn’t injured.”
“That’s for sure.” The man shook his head. “I’m also grateful God placed you here in Bliss at just the right time. Your willingness to help a stranger says a lot about your character, Wes.”
Too bad Laurel didn’t see things that way.
He shrugged. “It’ll give me something to do while I’m here.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty to keep you busy. Spending time with your sister...and Sarah-Jane.”
His gaze shot to the pastor’s.
“Laurel sought me out after you left and filled me in on the rest of your story.”
Despite the man’s matter-of-fact tone, Wes shifted from one booted foot to the next. “She...she did that?” Suddenly he had that uneasy feeling that must’ve kept Laurel from telling the truth in the first place. Owning up to sin was always tough. Admitting to that sin in front of a man of God was downright unnerving. “I only learned about Sarah-Jane after coming to Bliss. Laurel and I, well, it shouldn’t have happened.”
The pastor held up his hands. “I’m not here to judge, Wes. That’s God’s job. The good news is that He’s a gracious God Who can turn even our biggest mistakes into our greatest blessings.”
“He certainly did in this case. Sarah-Jane is...” Watching the rainbow of colors the sun’s rays cast through the front door’s leaded glass, he pondered how to describe how he felt about his daughter. “She’s a blessing I’m not sure I deserve.”
“God must not have seen it that way, Wes. Otherwise He wouldn’t have brought you to Bliss.”
“Humph. I thought the same thing myself. The part about Him bringing me to Bliss, anyway.”
“Well, there are no coincidences where God is concerned. Which brings me to the real reason I came by.” Hands perched casually on his hips, the pastor kept his focus on Wes. “We’re having a men’s prayer breakfast at the church on Saturday morning, and I wanted to extend an invitation. I was hoping that, perhaps, you could share what it is you’ll be doing in the mission field. Give our men the opportunity to pray for you.”
The notion of standing up and talking to a bunch of strangers made Wes a little uncomfortable. However, it wasn’t like he was going on vacation. He was going to a war-torn country where peace was about as fragile as fine antique crystal. So, yeah, he’d take all the prayers he could get.
“I appreciate that. Yes, I can make it.”
“Great. We meet in the fellowship hall at 7:00 a.m.”
“I’ll be there.”
The pastor reached for the door. “Oh, and come hungry. We’ll have a lot more than just doughnuts.”
Wes chuckled. “Sounds good to me.”
Watching the man retreat, Wes felt like a heel for coming down so hard on Laurel. Yes
, he was just being honest, and yes, he was hurt, but he could have been a little more tactful. At this rate, he would never earn her trust.
Chapter Nine
In south central Texas, a seventy-five-degree day without the threat of spring storms was one to savor. And Bliss had had its share of glorious days lately. Yet while this one had started out promising, things had quickly gone downhill for Laurel. Ever since that falling-out with Wes, she’d been in a funk. All because she’d been afraid to tell the pastor the truth. Even though she’d since corrected that faux pas, she was still out of sorts because she had no clue how to smooth things over with Wes.
After Sarah-Jane’s nap, Laurel loaded her daughter into the stroller, and they were now on their way to Joyce’s to inform Irma of the tentative timeline for the work on her house. Perhaps the visit would help improve Laurel’s mood.
“She’s getting so big.” Irma watched Sarah-Jane walk into Joyce’s 1970s ranch-style house, holding on to Laurel’s hand.
“This walking thing is brand-new, too.” Laurel directed her daughter toward the living room to their right, trying not to think about those first steps she’d taken to Wes. “Where’s Joyce?”
“She had a family reunion in Austin today.”
Laurel scanned the space, eyeing the dark paneled walls and mottled tan carpet as she searched for Joyce’s dog. “I’m guessing she took Henry with her.”
“Yes.” Irma perched on the edge of the brown-and-gold sofa. “She treats that pup like it’s her baby.”
Still holding Sarah-Jane’s hand, Laurel joined her friend. “I wanted to give you a heads-up on what’s happening over at your place.” She watched the way Irma’s dark eyes lit as Sarah-Jane moved toward her. “Seems you had a little termite problem in that upstairs bathroom, so Frank Wurzbach will be by tomorrow to treat the wood. Once that’s done, Wes can get started on the repairs. We’re also going to do a little painting for you in the family room and bedroom to freshen those spaces.”
“Oh—” Irma reached her hands out for Sarah-Jane to grab hold “—that would be lovely.”
“Now about that carpet in the bedroom.”
Irma gave Laurel her full attention then. “Good riddance is all I have to say about that.”
Laurel couldn’t help laughing at the demure woman’s adamant tone. “We’ll need to decide what we want to do in its stead. Do you want to replace the carpet or stick with just the wood floors and, perhaps, a large area rug?”
The conversation continued as Irma vacillated on whether area rugs were a good idea for someone her age.
“I still can’t believe Wes is willing to do all of this work for me.” The older woman lifted Sarah-Jane into her lap. “He’s supposed to be visiting his sister, after all. But then, he is headed into the mission field. That right there tells me he has a giving heart.”
“Yeah, Wes is a good guy.”
Twisting, Irma lifted a brow. “Do I detect a hint of attraction, Laurel?”
Laurel felt her eyes widen. “What? No. I mean, maybe at one time, but—I don’t date. My daughter is my focus.” Unlike Laurel’s mother, whose dates sometime lasted for weeks.
“What do you mean ‘at one time’? Were you and Wes in a relationship before?”
Laurel bit her lip. She’d stepped in it now. “No, no relationship. Just...” Did she dare tell Irma? She’d already told the pastor. And as word got out—not that Laurel thought the pastor was going to go blabbing—Irma would hear about it anyway and be hurt that Laurel hadn’t told her herself.
Sarah-Jane reached for Laurel then. Taking hold of her, Laurel said, “Irma, Wes is Sarah-Jane’s father. It was a chance meeting in Las Vegas two years ago.”
“Oh. Well. Evidently what they say isn’t true then, because what happened in Vegas did not remain there.”
Laurel puffed out a laugh as she smoothed a hand over her daughter’s soft hair. “No, it definitely followed me home.”
“Did Wes know about Sarah-Jane?”
Laurel grimaced. “Not until five days ago.”
“I see. Well, that does complicate things, doesn’t it?” The older woman didn’t act the least bit put off by Laurel’s news.
“Tell me about it. Not only did he turn out to be Rae’s brother, but I didn’t expect him to be so willing to embrace his role as a father.”
“But that’s a good thing for Sarah-Jane, don’t you agree?” Her dark eyes were fixed on Laurel.
“I suppose.” Biting her lip, Laurel couldn’t help thinking about all the ups and downs of these past few days as she and Wes tried to find a level playing ground.
“You don’t want to share her, do you?”
“Would you want to share your baby with a stranger?”
“You must have seen something good in him at one time.”
Laurel thought back to their first meeting, when she’d tried to pay him for that Coke. She’d been so embarrassed.
“I have to do something to say thank you.”
“No, you don’t.” He briefly looked away, as though he was nervous. “However, I just ordered up a big basket of wings. I’d welcome the company, if you’d care to join me.”
When he’d looked at Laurel again, there had been an honesty in his eyes she wasn’t accustomed to seeing in people. Wes had never set out to impress her or anyone else. And that had endeared her to him more than she wanted to admit. Even to herself.
“He was kind,” she finally said. “A good listener. He’s the one who gave me the courage to leave my corporate job and follow my dream of starting my own company.” A sigh escaped her lips. “He was unlike any guy I’d ever met.”
Irma’s brow hiked a little higher. “And you’re not interested why?”
Laurel shook her head. “Doesn’t matter, Irma.” She stood, bringing her daughter with her. “Like I said, I don’t date.”
After bidding Irma goodbye, Laurel returned Sarah-Jane to her stroller and pushed her home, trying not to dwell on all those wonderful things she’d remembered about Wes. Yet when she arrived at her house, he was on her front porch.
“There you are.” Turning, he started down the steps as anxiety rose inside Laurel.
“We, uh, went over to see Irma so I could update her on things.” She peered up at him. “I didn’t expect to see you today.” Then again, he probably just wanted to spend time with Sarah-Jane.
“I owe you an apology for acting like a jerk at church.”
“You weren’t a jerk. You—” Lowering her gaze, she noticed something in his hands. “What’s in the bag?”
“A peace offering.” He held it up. “Butter pecan ice cream.”
Her favorite. And if memory served her correctly—“Isn’t that your favorite, too?”
“You remembered.”
Unfortunately, after talking with Irma, she remembered far more than she wanted.
“You take this—” he handed her the bag “—and I’ll free Sarah-Jane.”
She looked inside the bag as he unhooked the clasps. “Blue Bell. You got the good stuff.”
He lifted his daughter to him as though he’d done it all of Sarah-Jane’s life. “That’s the official ice cream of Texas, right?”
“If it’s not, it should be.” She started up the steps. “Come on in.”
In the kitchen, she set the ice cream on the counter and grabbed two bowls from the cupboard. “Wes, I’m the one who owes you an apology. I should have told the pastor who you were to Sarah-Jane and me instead of trying to cover.”
“It did sting.” Still holding Sarah-Jane, he watched her from the other side of the peninsula. “But I understand why you did it.”
Reaching for an ice cream scoop, she watched, waiting for him to continue.
“I ran into the pastor at Irma’s. He told me you sought him out after I left. Knowing the pastor knew what had happ
ened between us was a little unnerving.”
She scooped ice cream into the first bowl. “What did he say?”
“He said it wasn’t his place to judge. And that he was there to invite me to speak at some men’s prayer breakfast.” He paused then, his forehead furrowing as though he was distressed. “Has anyone ever judged you for being a single mom?”
“I suppose there may have been a few eyebrows raised along the way. But by and large, the people of Bliss have been nothing but good to me.”
“Good. I’d hate to think of someone treating you badly.” The look on his face, the sincerity in his voice... That was why she’d fallen for this man. Except things had been safe in Vegas. She knew she’d be leaving the next morning, so she didn’t have to worry about getting her heart broken when he turned his back on her. And if she didn’t watch herself, she was apt to fall again. Only this time, she was certain not to come out unscathed.
* * *
Wes stood at the double front doors of Joyce’s sprawling rambler Tuesday evening, wishing he’d had the nerve to turn down Irma’s dinner invitation when she’d stopped by her house earlier in the day. But when she’d started talking about love languages and how hers was cooking and dinner was the only way she’d be able to properly thank him for all he was doing, well, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.
So here he stood, holding a bouquet of flowers he’d picked up at the grocery store, feeling like he’d been summoned by the admiral.
He sucked in a breath, worked the kinks out of his neck and lifted his hand to knock.
She’s a nice lady who just wants to say thank you.
That’s right. Except Joyce would probably be here, too. That woman would give Rae a run for her money when it came to interrogation. Rae was less intimidating, though.
He swallowed hard and was about to knock when he heard a vehicle behind him. Turning, he saw Laurel’s SUV rolling to a stop in the circular drive of the brick house. Had she been invited, too?
Man, he hoped so.
She emerged from the vehicle, eyeing him over its roof. “What are you doing here?”
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