Читать книгу Sweet Devotion - Felicia Mason - Страница 11

“She’s a sweet girl.”

“But she’s been through a lot. It’s not very often I see her smile and giggle and act like the five-year-old she is.”

“What’s wrong with her?” The question was out before the impertinence of it dawned on Amber. She’d always been one to speak her mind first and worry about the consequences later. The cloud that shadowed his face told her without words that she’d done it again. “Never mind,” she added. “Don’t answer that. Your apology’s accepted, Chief Evans. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She gave him a wide berth as she moved toward the door leading back to the living room and the safety and comfort of other people.

Paul watched her retreat. He didn’t feel a need to bolster his own defense mechanisms in response to her anger; to his utter amazement, what he was feeling was a surge of protectiveness. But everything about Amber Montgomery said “woman with a past—avoid like the plague.”

He couldn’t determine if she didn’t like cops in general or if it was him in particular. Whatever the case, Amber brought out in him an interest that extended beyond the professional.

Since it clearly wasn’t reciprocated, he’d have to move on.

He hadn’t believed anyone existed who could draw the kids out of the shells in which they’d lived these past few years. But Amber Montgomery, the Cookie Lady, had done just that, not only for Sutton and Jonathan, but for him, as well.

Moving to Oregon, this little town in particular, had facilitated the healing process for the three of them. Paul hadn’t expected to find love in Wayside. But he’d hoped to find a woman with whom he was compatible, someone who could open her heart and accept not only him, but the two children he was now raising as his own.

Meanwhile, as another consideration, Marnie Shepherd was great with the kids. They liked her and the time they spent at Sunshine and Rainbows. Of course, no one would ever replace their mother, but Jonathan and Sutton still needed mothering. Every child did.

“Come on out here, Chief. The reverend is going to say grace, then we’ll eat.”

Paul joined the others in the living room where Cliff Baines waited to lead the dinner guests in prayer.

Looking around the assembled group, Paul realized just what Haley and Matt Brandon-Dumaine were up to. Their little soiree included two married couples and four singles who looked likely to be matched up. And if the episode with the cookies in the squad car served as an indicator, Caleb was well and truly infatuated with Amber Montgomery.

That meant Matt and Haley had paired him with Marnie for the evening. Paul wasn’t opposed to that. He enjoyed speaking with her at church. With her pretty smile, bubbly personality and her way with children, Marnie was an attractive woman. He’d never believed in love at first sight or any of that romantic nonsense. People got together because they were compatible. And Marnie got along well with Jonathan and Sutton. That was a good place to begin.

He moved into the small circle they’d formed for grace and looked at Marnie again. She smiled as she leaned over, telling Haley something. Paul nodded to himself, silently agreeing with the not-so-subtle matchmaking.

Maybe he would ask Marnie out to dinner and a movie. For some reason, though, Paul’s eye kept wandering to the aloof blonde with the haunted eyes. On the pretense of moving a chair, he shifted his position toward her.

Amber had been standing next to Matt, but when she bowed her head, a strong hand clasped hers. Her gaze flew to her right. Paul Evans stood there, tall, strong, his head bowed in prayer, his hand holding hers. Warmth suffused her.

She cleared her throat and tried to ease her hand from his. But he held on as the minister started to pray.

“Thank you, Lord, for bringing good friends together to share good times and good food. Amen.”

Amber opened one eye to peer at Cliff. That was it? That was his idea of grace? What about blessing the hands that prepared the meal, and three minutes of other supplications and prayer-time clichés? She knew them all.

“Amber?”

She glanced up at Paul. “Yes?” she said, surprised that he didn’t know you weren’t supposed to talk during a prayer or moment of silence.

“You can let my hand go now.”

Her gaze swept the room. The others, already having broken away from the prayer circle, headed toward the dining room. Amber’s face flamed. She dropped Paul’s hand and hastened a safe distance away.

“Steaks are ready!” Matt called out from the kitchen before she could think of a good reason to leave the dinner party.

Rain may have chased the cookout indoors, but it didn’t dampen the enthusiasm inside. Since the evening was supposed to be informal, everyone grabbed a plate and helped themselves from the feast Matt had laid out on the dining room table. Instead of settling there, Haley led the way back to the living room, where the guests spread out wherever they felt comfortable.

For Nancy Baines and Marnie, that meant the floor with the coffee table pressed into service.

Caleb perched on the edge of a chair near them. “I’ll grab some napkins for you ladies.”

When Paul and Cliff claimed two of the TV trays, Amber moved hers a bit away.

Matt got his wife situated and kissed her.

“Hey, none of that,” Amber said.

“Yeah,” Marnie added, laughing. “You’ll make the rest of us jealous.”

“I still have six months to go, but he acts as if delivery is imminent.”

“It is,” Matt said. “The time’s going to fly by.”

While Marnie and Nancy asked about baby names and nursery colors, Amber watched the byplay between Haley and Matt. A lot of love flowed between them. In their soft gazes swelling with shared affection and regard it was there for all the world to see.

Once upon a time she’d loved like that—or so she’d thought at the time. The love hadn’t flowed both ways, though, and Amber found out the hard way just how much she’d pay for that.

She supposed that some people truly were happy. But for her, love was a lie she’d learned to reject. She’d learned to simply live, day to day. And that suited her just fine.

Again and again, however, her gaze slipped to her cousin, and something akin to jealousy snipped at her, surprising her.

Keep it light, she coached herself. If she allowed what-if thoughts to intrude, she’d never make it through the evening.

For a few minutes, the four couples ate in companionable silence, the only accompaniment to their meal an instrumental CD playing in the background.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Matt,” Caleb said. “You have grilling skills.”

“He’s supposed to reveal the sauce recipe,” Amber said. “The promise of that is the only thing that lured me here tonight.”

“Ah,” Caleb said. “And here I thought it was the thrill of seeing me again.”

“In your dreams, Jenkins,” she said.

Caleb chuckled at that.

This she could handle, keeping it casual. The easy camaraderie in the room masked the awkwardness Amber felt around Paul.

Over a glass of cider, she studied the police chief. Without the uniform, he didn’t look nearly as intimidating as he had previously. Of course, he was still tall and broad-shouldered, but that made him look solid, the sort you could depend on in a crisis.

Like Kyle.

His gaze connected with hers. Caught staring, Amber blushed and averted her eyes. She cut a piece of steak, making careful work of slicing the meat just so. When she dared, she glanced up.

He was still looking at her. He smiled.

Amber’s pulse rate leaped.

“Anyone want more potatoes?” She hopped up from her seat.

“I do,” Paul said. “I’ll help you.”

“I’m closest,” Marnie said. “Sit down, both of you.”

Before either could object, Marnie disappeared and came back from the dining room with a tray of skewered roasted potatoes with red and green bell peppers. She offered the tray to everyone, sending—at least it seemed so to Amber—a brighter, longer smile in Chief Evans’s direction.

“So, what’s going on over at Community Christian these days?” Caleb asked.

“Camp. Camp and more camp,” Nancy said. “Forty-five kids this year. We have a good crop of seniors who’ve been with us and will serve as the teen counselors, but still I worry.”

“Don’t mind my wife,” Cliff said. “She’s the overall coordinator of our annual fall jamboree and things are just a little stressful right now.”

“That’s because it’s less than a week away, and I still have two weeks’ worth of work to do.”

Cliff placed a hand on her shoulder as he passed by with a refill from the dining room. “It all comes together beautifully each year. This year won’t be an exception.”

“We’re really blessed to have so many volunteers,” Haley said. “Everyone from the church pitches in and helps in some way. And with that community grant Kara got for us this year, we’re able to do a lot more.”

Amber let the conversation flow around her. She had nothing to say and wondered just how soon she could make her escape without seeming too obvious.

If, for some silly reason, she felt another nip or two from the green-eyed monster as she looked at Matt and Haley, and even at Cliff and Nancy Baines, the preacher and his wife, she let it slide. They looked so…happy.

It didn’t matter. She didn’t go to Community Christian or any other church—and had no intention of starting anytime soon. Plus, through the years she’d had enough church camp to last her not one or two, but several lifetimes.

Amber couldn’t remember the last time she could count herself truly happy. And she now knew she’d never really been in love. Not the way the Baineses were in love. She’d been part of a couple once. And all she had to say for the experience was good riddance.

“So, how are you finding Wayside?”

The question, directed to Paul from Nancy Baines, made Amber look up from her plate.

Paul swallowed a bite of food. “Just fine, Mrs. Baines. It’s a lot different from L.A.”

Amber’s throat constricted. “You’re from Los Angeles?”

He nodded. “I needed to get Sutton and Jon out of the big city environment.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t healthy for any of us. And, where I lived and how I used to work didn’t lend itself to fatherhood. At least, not the way they needed.”

“The children are just adorable,” Nancy said. “I have Sutton in my Sunday school class.”

“Yes, she really enjoys that,” Paul said. “I’m glad I found Community Christian. That was one thing I thought I might miss about Los Angeles. Even though I worked crazy hours, I had a church family that was devoted to the gospel and family values, both incongruous notions in L.A.”

Caleb helped himself to another kabob. “The chief here was on the LAPD for—what?—about twelve years, right Chief?”

Amber gasped. Her eyes widened and her fork clattered to her plate. She stood up so fast she almost lost her balance. “Excuse me.” And she left the room.

Matt and Haley shared a look.

Cliff put his plate down. “Maybe I should…”

Haley got up. “She’ll be all right. I’ll go check on her,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Was it something I said?” Paul asked.

“Uh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just something to do with setting out dessert,” Matt said, but his look was hardly reassuring.

Spending an evening with a room full of church people, even ones she knew, wasn’t Amber’s idea of a great time, but she’d found herself laughing at the byplay among Cliff, Nancy Baines, and even Caleb, and actually enjoying herself…until just now.

He was one of them.

“Amber, are you all right?”

She shook her head. “I have to leave.”

Haley wrapped an arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “I know. I’m sorry, Amber. I didn’t realize he was—”

“It’s not your fault.” Amber stopped her. “This is my bugaboo. I have to learn to live with it.”

Amber headed to the sliding glass doors that led to the deck and yard of Matt and Haley’s home.

“It’s still raining outside,” Haley said. “Let me get you an umbrella.”

“I’ll be fine. Sorry to break up your party.”

And then she escaped into the dark night—a night a lot like one she’d tried for a long time to banish from her memory.

“I think tonight was supposed to be a setup,” Marnie told Caleb Jenkins later.

He laughed. “So it wasn’t just me getting that vibe.”

“I think now that she’s happily married and starting a family, Haley has decided to play town matchmaker.”

Caleb held the door for Marnie, who’d been dropped off at Haley and Matt’s by a co-worker.

“The thing I’m trying to figure out,” he said, “is who was supposed to be with whom.”

“I think I was supposed to be with Chief Evans. Did you see that pleased look on Haley’s face when I appeared at the door with him?”

“How did that come about? Happenstance?”

She waited until he came around and settled behind the wheel. “Something like that. He drove up at the same time I was dashing through the rain for the front door. So if Haley planned for me to get cozy with Chief Evans, that means she has her eye on you and Amber as a pair.”

“Amber is a friend.”

Marnie smiled. “Mm-hmm.”

Caleb started the car. “Have you ever thought about selling the house?”

She gave him a knowing look, but didn’t call him on the abrupt change of subject. “Yes.” The single word came out slow and long. Marnie shifted in her seat.

He glanced at her, but didn’t follow up with the next obvious question.

“It’s a lot of house,” she said. “Selling it makes sense.”

Caleb nodded, but not because he agreed with her or particularly liked the direction of the conversation and what selling that house might mean. It just seemed the right thing to do at the moment. But instead of following that thread of their touch-and-go conversation, he asked another question that had been on his mind for a while.

“So, how have you been? Really been, I mean?”

Marnie chuckled softly, relieving the sudden tension in the car. The history between them didn’t get discussed very often. “I’ll answer that if you admit you have a secret thing for Amber Montgomery.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. He knew that to deny it again would be protesting too much.

So they drove the rest of the way to her home in silence.

Caleb didn’t regret asking the question about how she was really doing. He still wanted an answer, but maybe it was still too soon for her. Maybe it would never be the right time. He worried about Marnie. On the outside, everything looked okay, but they never talked about the thing that stood between them—the element that connected them. By not talking about Roy, they could pretend everything was just fine.

He pulled into the driveway, careful to skirt the thick tree trunk that pushed through the gravel. He knew Marnie would rather cut off one of her own limbs than cut the tree down, so at some point the driveway would have to be realigned and rerouted around the ancient oak, the only non-maple tree on Maple Street.

He came around and opened the passenger-side door, an old-fashioned habit he’d been taught as a child. Some women liked it, others made fun of him for doing it. Marnie, he knew, was in the first group.

“For the record,” he said as if they’d never stopped talking, “Amber bakes a mean cookie, but I don’t have a thing for her. And anyway, she’s not interested.”

Marnie opened her mouth to say something, then apparently changed her mind. “Thanks for the ride, Caleb.”

He nodded. “Anytime.”

He meant it, too, but didn’t know how to go further—to say the important things that stood between them.

So he saw her to the door and waited until she let herself into the house. She turned in the doorway, looking soft and vulnerable and painfully beautiful.

“Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?”

Yes.

But he knew the way he was feeling right now, it was best if he went on his way. “No, it’s kind of late. I’ll just head on home.”

She hesitated. “All right, then. You take care. Thanks for the lift.” She turned to go, then paused. “Caleb?”

“Yes?”

She raised a hand and stepped forward. “I… I just thought you could use a hug.”

Caleb closed his eyes.

No. No. No. Yes.

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close. Caleb stored up every moment of the brief embrace.

“Thanks again for giving me a lift. And, Caleb, if you like her, you should tell her. Amber’s a nice girl. You take care, okay?”

When he nodded, she waved from the door and then closed it.

Caleb Jenkins stood there for a while, watching lights go on as Marnie made her way through her home, a big house made for the family she very much deserved but didn’t have.

Marnie had always been a special woman, blessed with a gift for making people feel exceptional, wanted, loved. That’s why she was such an asset to Sunshine and Rainbows. The children blossomed under her care.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her. He wished he could explain. To open up with her the way he’d always wanted to. But he didn’t have the right—had never had the right to hope for anything more than polite friendliness with Marnie. Especially now.

Making light of his social life, or lack thereof, came easy to Caleb. He dated now and then, and flirted with a few women like Amber just to keep the loneliness at bay, but nothing serious.

How could he get serious about any other woman? His heart had always belonged to Marnie Shepherd—his brother’s wife.