Читать книгу Bride in Training - Gail Martin Gaymer - Страница 10

Martin stood in the floral shop eyeing the bouquets, but his mind remained on Emily. Since she walked out three days earlier, he’d been baffled about what he’d done. They were talking and she was fine until she jumped up and ran off. Racking his brain, he couldn’t think of what he’d done that might have offended her. He’d been stirred by her thoughtful gift. She didn’t have money for dog toys. Anyone who lived in a studio apartment likely couldn’t afford much. He’d only tried to pay her for her thoughtfulness.

He could hear the toy hotdog squeal in his head. Nessie loved it, and Martin admired Emily’s kindness.

The toys for Nessie triggered another thought. When he had gone to throw the bag in the trash, he felt something else inside, a small clicker of some kind. It certainly didn’t look like a toy. Glad he found it, Martin had tucked it away. He needed to call Emily about it. He closed his eyes, giving his idea a second thought. Having no clue what happened that day, Martin didn’t want to get his head chewed…like a rawhide. Maybe asking Steph about it was a better idea.

The scent of flowers drew his mind back to the floral display. He focused on the bouquets. Roses? Carnations? He wanted something cheerful for his mother. When he spotted the mixed bouquet of spring flowers, he decided that was it. Bright, cheery and full of hope. Spring always left him with expectations—rebirth of nature and hopefully his own rebirth as he worked to alter his attitude and his life. Hopeful, yes, but sometimes that job seemed hopeless. Emily’s race from the yard had sparked that thought.

With the bouquet wrapped and paid for, Martin slipped into his car and headed for Waltonwoods to visit his mother. Although she’d resisted moving to an assisted living residence after her stroke, she’d given in and now was adjusting well to residing in the independent living facility. Martin’s guilt had subsided. He turned onto Walton Boulevard and pulled into the visitor parking. Grabbing the bouquet, he headed inside, signed in and took the elevator to his mother’s apartment. A small placard next to the door read Julia Davis. The Julia was printed in a large font. Identity. Everyone needed it, especially those who’d lived a full life and sometimes struggled to find a purpose.

When his mother opened the door, her eyes twinkled as he remembered from childhood—except those times he’d done something wrong, when he had seen hurt in her eyes. Martin kissed his mother’s cheek and placed the bouquet in her arms. His chest tightened seeing pleasure on her face.

She buried her nose in the blossoms. “They’re lovely, Martin. And they smell so sweet.” She cradled the bouquet as if it were a baby and motioned him inside.

The sting of fleeting years pricked Martin’s senses as he strode across the room and sank onto the sofa. He didn’t envision the joy of holding his own offspring. He’d remained single since his divorce, ashamed that he’d been abandoned by his wife. Her reason had left him staggering: he wasn’t a good husband. That’s what she’d said. He’d spent his days working to make a home and hopefully to provide well for a family, but Denise had walked out without giving him a chance and with no desire to make it work.

He’d married for better or worse, never expecting he would be the worse for Denise. Nick encouraged him to get over it, but Nick hadn’t fared much better with his first fiancé walking away before the wedding. But Nick had found love again, lessening Martin’s bitterness. Nick and Steph made a great couple, and now there was a baby on the way. The knife twisted deeper.

“Is something wrong?”

Martin jerked his head upward, sorry he’d let his mind wander. “Not a thing. In fact, I have some good news.”

Her face brightened. “Really? Is it someone new in your life?”

Martin squirmed as a vision of Emily filled his mind. “She’s a cairn terrier named Nessie. A bundle of fur.” He rose to evade the disappointment on her face and grasped the flowers. “Do you have a vase for these, Mom?” Rather than looking at her, he scanned her small apartment for a container, the kitchen taking a corner of her living room with a bedroom and bath beyond. “Martin.”

He glanced her way.

“Look on top of the cabinet there.” She pointed. “Use that crystal one. Your father brought that home for me once filled with roses.”

He reached above the cabinet and lowered the vase, recalling how often he’d seen it filled with flowers in their home when he was a teen. Flowers. The memory of Emily in his yard slipped through his mind until he refocused. “Dad was a good man.” He found the courage to face her.

A sweet smile curved her mouth. “I didn’t know if you boys realized that. He was strict and not always there for you when you needed him.”

A void rushed through him and he remembered his yearnings to have his father notice him the way he noticed Nick, but he provided for them and cared in his own way. “We knew.”

He turned his attention to filling the vase with water and jamming the flowers into it. He had no idea how to arrange them. “What do you think?” He stepped past the cabinets and held the vase so she could see it.

“I think you should let me meet your new pet.”

Though she’d faltered over her words, Martin realized how much she’d improved since her stroke, but he also caught her message. His stomach knotted. She wanted to be with him or Nick and not here. But they both had jobs and… “We’ll work something out now that you’re walking better.”

“I’ve tried.” She turned her attention to the flowers, sending him a crooked smile left from her stroke. “Do you need help with those?”

“Probably.”

She beckoned him to bring her the flowers.

“Sorry. I don’t do arranging.” Martin chuckled as he approached her, but he didn’t feel the humor. He shifted a wooden TV tray closer to her chair and set the flowers on it. “What do you need?”

“Scissors.” She motioned toward the corner of her cabinets. “In the end drawer there.”

He opened it and found the scissors.

“And some paper towel.”

Nick unrolled the toweling and brought it to her with the scissors, then sat in the nearest chair to watch. Her earlier comment about bringing her home for a visit had unsettled him. He and Nick should be more available to her, but somehow life got in the way. He visited regularly, but his mother wanted more. He lowered his head, knowing that visiting this way meant he could leave after an hour or so when it was convenient and then get on with life.

But this was her life in this limited space with only a few mementos of the past, like the vase that meant so much to her. He closed his eyes a moment, wishing life didn’t hurt so much. But the Lord promised believers Heaven, where pain and sadness would be gone. He forced his head upward and watched his mother manipulate the flowers, clipping off an end here and sliding in a stalk of greenery there until the flowers looked like a real arrangement.

“Good job, Mom.”

She grinned, adding the final few flowers, her veined hands, fragile and almost transparent, working deftly with the blossoms.

“Arranging flowers is sort of a lesson in life, Martin. Sometimes you have to clip away a bad stem or shorten a blossom so it doesn’t overpower a more delicate one. You have to discard ones that are broken or dead to make room for the flowers that are still lovely.”

Discard the dead and broken. Why couldn’t he do that? Dead dreams and broken promises. Cut them away so they didn’t overpower what was worthy and beautiful.

“When you tuck something beautiful beside the plain, each enhances the other.” She turned the vase around to face him. “What do you think?”

“It looks great. Just like a professional.”

She waved his words away, and he grinned seeing both hands functioning now after the stroke that had left her with so many problems.

He rose. “Where do you want the vase?”

“On the table there.” She pointed to the small dining table. Her eyes drifted from the arrangement to him. “Tell me about the dog.”

“I adopted her from Time for Paws, where Steph works.”

Her eyebrows raised. “From the shelter?”

Her tone let him know she hardly believed he’d obtained a dog from there. “Yes. She’s five, but her life expectancy is three times that.”

She gave him a motherly look and pushed the table to the side. “I suppose Steph helped you select this dog.”

He fought his growing anxiety. “No. I decided to stop on my way home from work and take a look. The part-time girl was there.”

“You mean Emily?” Hearing her name caused his pulse to skip. “I met her at the wedding. Very sweet.”

“I suppose.” His heel tapped against the floor, and he pressed his hand against his knee to control it.

His mother noticed, and he squirmed while she studied him. “Emily’s nice, don’t you think?”

He drew back and gave up on quieting his knee. He knew what his mother was getting at. If she were still living in her home, he would be invited to dinner once a week to meet some young woman who was the daughter of a friend or a friend of a friend. She believed God meant everyone to be in twos. Just like the ark. Hear that, Noah?

Martin gave up. When his mother probed for information, she knew how to do it. He’d run into the same technique as a child. He couldn’t get away with anything, but then, he rarely wanted to. As the oldest child with his parents’ full attention, he’d demanded much of himself, not wanting to disappoint them.

Emily became the topic of conversation for the next few minutes. He told her about his problem with Nessie, and how Emily had dropped by with the toys.

“That’s strange. Why would she do that?”

“I’d asked her about obedience training, and…” His cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Yes, I’m sure Emily would be happy to help.”

Knowing his mother, she’d never stop. Never did when he was a boy, and she wouldn’t now. Instead of trying to respond, he dug out the phone and flipped it open. His chest constricted. Emily. He stared at her number, then closed the lid. “Important?”

No. His stomach rolled. Yes, it was important. He wanted to know why Emily had called. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked away. “I’m sure.” Then he rose. “Mom, what’s on your mind? Do you think every time my phone rings it’s some woman you can trap into falling in love with me? It’s not going to happen.”

“Martin. No one needs to be trapped. You’re a handsome man with a successful business, a lovely home, and a new dog.” She shook her head. “And I want you to have the joy of being a father one day.”

“A father?” He shook his head. “I need a wife first.”

“Now, that’s what I want to hear.” She rubbed her hands together. “Let’s work on that.”

Let’s? Martin leaned over and kissed his mother’s cheek. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll put that in your capable hands.”

She grinned as he turned away. He’d never get that idea out of her head.

Emily leaned against the shelter’s storage room doorway and clutched her cell phone. Calling had been a bad idea. Martin hadn’t answered, and though he might have a good reason, she suspected he didn’t want to talk to her. She’d pondered her behavior for the past three days trying to make sense out of it. When she’d sat in his lovely yard talking to him, she’d had an overwhelming feeling that she didn’t belong there. That was it.

Yet somewhere deep inside her, Emily wanted to apologize. How could he ever understand her behavior unless he knew her, and he didn’t. That’s how she wanted it. But then, when he pulled out his wallet… It had been too much.

A sound caused her to turn as Molly appeared in the doorway, looking slim again after the birth of her new baby Zachariah. Such a big name for a little boy. Emily glanced at her watch. “Is it that time already?”

“Brent came home early so I left him on diaper and bottle duty.”

“Good for you. Make him work.” Emily managed a smile. She shifted a dog food bag against the wall and uncoiled her back, then pulled up her shoulders and sucked in her belly to force her spine to straighten.

Molly eyed her a second, then put her fists on her hips. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just tired. I haven’t slept well for the past couple nights.”

Molly’s brows arched. “The past couple nights? Is that my fault, Emily? Don’t tell me you had a bad time with Martin. I shouldn’t have insisted you—”

Martin’s name shot through Emily like a dart. “No. He was fine.”

“Really?”

She nodded and looked away before Molly asked anything more. “I picked up a few things on the way to his house—a rawhide and a couple of other toys…and a clicker.” She’d forgotten it was in the bag until yesterday.

“I hope he paid you.”

Her pulse skipped again. “No. It—it was a gift.”

“A gift? Be careful. He could easily take advantage of your kindness. Martin can do that to people.” She slipped her arm around Emily’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “The Lord will put extra stars in your crown though. That was nice of you.”

Stars in her crown. Emily doubted if she’d have a crown. Getting into Heaven would be blessing enough. “He seemed different Wednesday.” In stockinged feet.

Molly squeezed her shoulder. “Steph gets along with him now.”

Martin’s image settled in her mind. He’s been friendly enough. “But people can also slip back into old habits.”

Molly nodded, but her expression had darkened, and it made Emily suspect she was thinking about Emily’s past. Shortly after she’d started working at the shelter, Molly had spotted the scars on her wrists. Even her watch and bracelet didn’t cover them completely. Molly had never asked for details, and she hoped it would stay that way. Emily pushed her thoughts aside and changed the subject. “We had a good day. Two new adoptions. Buster and Rosey are gone.”

“Wonderful.” She took a step toward the door before turning back. “How did the lesson go?”

“Lesson?” Her stomach twisted, fearing Molly would be upset if she knew Emily had walked out. “I gave him the toys and left.” She focused on Molly. “What’s wrong?”

“You.”

“Me?” She kept her hand steady as she pressed her index finger against her chest.

A grin slipped to Molly’s face. “You’re blushing.”

Emily pulled her hand from her chest and cupped her cheek in her palm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My face isn’t hot.”

Molly’s grin broadened. “You blushed when you mentioned Martin.” She faced her, her arms akimbo. “What’s going on?”

“What could go on? I’ve known him a week, and that includes today.” Her lips pressed together, but she forced them apart. “I don’t know where you came up with that dumb idea.” Yes, she found him attractive. Yes, he stirred some emotion, but…

“I fell in love with Brent a couple days after I met him.” Molly uncoiled her arms. “Maybe not in love, but I fell in deep like.”

“Deep like.” Emily chuckled a little too heartily. “That’s a new one.” Silence.

Molly gave her a playful smirk. “I don’t think so. We’ll just wait and see.”

“You’ll have to wait a long time.”

Molly grinned and strode toward the office while Emily watched her go, feeling helpless. Yes, she’d thought about Martin and about Nessie. More about Nes… Maybe they’d both been on her mind, but she certainly hadn’t fallen in love or even like. Actually, she’d been confused. Where did Molly come up with something so ridiculous? She turned away, opened the dog food bag and continued filling the dogs’ dishes. Her day ended when Molly arrived, but she never left a job half finished.

The dogs wagged and wiggled to get to the food. They looked happy and healthier than some had looked when they’d arrived. Homeless dogs, abandoned dogs broke her heart. She and they were kindred spirits.

Emily grabbed her handbag and said goodbye to Molly as she hurried through the office and stepped outside. She didn’t want to talk with Molly about falling into anything.

Outside, she stopped and drew in a deep breath. The spring air filled her lungs and refreshed her in the same way the Holy Spirit had filled her with hope. In the sunlight, she leaned against her car and thought. Martin had hung on her mind many times during the day. Did he give Nessie the rawhide? Would he remember to purchase a doggie bed?

She opened her car door, but instead of climbing in, she leaned against the sedan, thinking about the call she’d made to him. She pulled out her cell phone and checked for messages. Nothing. Maybe she should call again and—

No. She’d called once. If he wanted to talk with her, he’d call back. If he found the clicker in the bag, he may have figured out how to use it. He didn’t need her.

Martin opened the door from the garage and heard Nessie’s nails clicking across the kitchen. Before he closed the door, the dog had reached the laundry room, her tail wagging. He bent down and petted her. Her dark eyes with long wispy brows gazed at him as if he were a hero. His chest tightened. Some men had children look at them like that. At least he had the dog.

When he closed the door, Nessie skittered off the way she’d come, and when Martin stepped into the kitchen, he found her posed by her dish. “Hungry?”

Her tail wagged as he headed for the bag of dog food. He added nuggets to her dish. And refreshed her water, then strolled into the family room and wandered to the patio door. In moments, Nessie padded to his side. He slid open the glass and let her out. She’d been pretty good since she had had the toys to gnaw. The clicker didn’t make sense to him so it lay on the kitchen counter. He guessed that’s why Emily had called.

An empty feeling settled in his chest. She would never come back. He sensed it. Success wasn’t his friend when it came to relationships with people. His mother had always seen his good side, but others? He didn’t want to go there.

He stepped onto the patio, pulled his cell from his pocket and settled into a chair at the umbrella table, the phone clutched in his hand. A cooler breeze drifted past, smelling like rain. Martin looked into the gloomy sky, noting the heavy clouds that had covered the sun. He hated dismal days. They made him feel worse.

The cell phone warmed his palm, and his chest tightened as he hit dial. It rang twice. He held his breath. As he mustered control, her hesitant voice met his ears.

“I couldn’t answer earlier, Emily. Sorry.”

“I—I didn’t want to bother you, but—”

“You’re no bother.” He drew in a quick breath. “I’m glad you called.” He fought his instinct to ask her why she’d run off. “You left something in the bag when you were here that I think belongs to you.”

“The clicker. I bought that for you. It’s a method to train Nessie. I—”

Silence ran through the line, and he opened his mouth but held back, knowing she had something else on her mind.

“I’m sorry about running off. I’d meant to show you how to use it.”

“Emily, listen. Let’s back up. You don’t need to apologize. I know something happened, and I feel badly. Would you drop by so we can talk? Or if you prefer, I’ll meet you somewhere.” More silence.

He couldn’t bear it and drew in a lengthy breath to calm himself. “The toys worked like a charm. Nessie hasn’t eaten a leather belt or the handle off of anything.”

Her faint chuckle whispered through the line. “That’s good.”

His foot tapped against the patio tiles as he waited for her to respond to his suggestion about meeting. Waited for her to say anything. He forced himself to remain silent.

“There’s a park not far from you,” she said finally. “It’s on—”

“I know where it is. I used to…Nick used to walk Suzette there.”

“I can be there in a few minutes. I’m not too far away.”

“Great.” He loosened his grip on the phone. “I’ll see you there.”

“Bring Nessie.”

He agreed and clicked off, his mind racing. She’d apologized. He still didn’t know why, but it was a beginning. He dashed inside, slipped out of his dress pants and tugged on his jeans and a polo shirt. Nessie was at the patio door when he returned to the family room, and he let her inside. As he headed for the laundry room for her leash, Martin grasped the clicker from the kitchen counter and slipped it into his pocket.

Nessie grew excited when she saw the leash. She needed to be walked, and he’d tried, but he hadn’t learned how to master the dog and the tether.

“Come on, little girl. We’re going for a walk.” He maneuvered Nessie to the front door and strode outside with the dog barreling ahead.

The park was close, but Nessie added time to the walk by tangling his legs in the leash. He had no idea what to say to the dog to keep her heading forward at a stride, not a sprint. A car passed him as he neared the grassy area. It slowed and pulled up to the curb. Emily slipped out and waited for them, a sympathetic grin on her face. His heart began to skip.

“Nessie did a great job getting you here.”

He shrugged and added a grin. “I told you I need practice.”

Emily strode toward the grass, glancing over her shoulder as they followed. “Did you think to bring the clicker?” She wore a pair of slacks beneath a long shirt, the sleeves rolled up. The clothes looked as if she’d borrowed them from a brother.

Yet no matter what she wore, he found her attractive. In the sunlight, he noticed her creamy skin. She wore only a trace of makeup. He liked the natural look. It fit her. Honest and simple.

He’d wanted to talk with her first, but apparently she wanted to work with the dog. He drew in a breath, dug into his pocket and pulled out the gadget.

She opened her palm, and he dropped it in. “We use this to enforce good behavior. When Nessie does something right, you click this and give her a treat. Eventually, you can either click or offer the treat, and she’ll understand.” Emily glanced at him as if she’d expected him to bring along the dog food nuggets.

He watched while Emily demonstrated, and then he tried using the gadget, but Martin noticed most of the time she was evading his eyes. He was captured by the innocence in her face, almost as if life was a bus she’d missed and she was waiting for another to pass by. That interested him. He winced, not wanting to admit it was more than interest. He was attracted to Emily.

When he didn’t respond, she turned his way, her eyes questioning. “Is something wrong?”

“Are you avoiding me?”

She almost did a double take. “I’m here. Does that look like I’m avoiding you?”

Her response frustrated him. She’d redirected the question. “Avoidance can mean more than absence.”

A faint scowl flickered across her face.

“Did I do something the other day when you darted off? If I did, I apologize. I thought we were—”

Her hand jutted upward, accidentally sounding the clicker, but she didn’t grin. “It wasn’t you. I had something on my mind, and I needed to leave.”

“But so suddenly?”

This time she searched his face with an intense look as if wanting to continue, but the tightness of her lips warned him not to pursue it further.

She eyed her watch, turning a little as if she didn’t want him to know what time it was. When she turned back, she knelt down and petted Nessie. “You have the idea, right?” She edged her gaze upward.

He sensed she’d become antsy. “Let me try again. This time walking with her. That’s when I have most of my problems.”

“I noticed.”

The lilt of her voice had a playful ring, a total change from moments earlier. A drop of rain hit his cheek, and Martin glanced up, spotting a dark cloud overhead. Emily hadn’t seemed to notice, and he didn’t mention the rain. He strode away, holding the leash shorter and tighter, saying “good girl” with a click as Nessie stayed close. He sensed he was pressing his luck when she spotted a bird and tugged at the leash. He drew her back, and when she pattered beside him, he clicked again and reached down to pet her. Her tail whipped like a flag in the wind.

A raindrop hit his hand as another struck his nose. He turned back, maneuvering Nessie toward Emily. Before he took a step, the sky opened, and rain poured. He bent down and scooped Nessie into his arms, hightailing toward the street while Emily waved him forward as she slipped into her car.

He opened the passenger door and jumped inside, putting Nessie on his lap. “That came on fast.” His shirt stuck to his back and Nessie’s fur dripped rain onto his lap. When he focused on Emily, her hair lay plastered against her cheeks, making her look even more guileless and sweet than he could remember. “Thanks.”

“You’re soaked.” She covered her grin with her fingertips.

“So are you.” He grinned back.

She turned the key in the ignition, switched on the wipers, and pulled away. He tried to make small talk, but she seemed distracted. He suspected she didn’t like to drive in a rainstorm. A zap of lightning split the sky followed by a distant roll of thunder that sounded above the slap of the windshield wipers.

Emily rolled into the driveway, and he eyed the water dripping from her hair. “You should come in for a minute and dry off.”

“I’ll be home shortly, but thanks.”

Her playful tone had vanished again, and he decided not to push it. “When will we get together again?”

A frown shot to her face as she turned toward him.

“I mean for some more help with Nessie, and I’d still like you to walk—”

“I’m not the one to do this.” She blinked at him, her frown deepening. “You should call Molly about the lessons. She has the experience. And Nessie’s doing fine.”

But I’m not. The words longed to be spoken, but they held too much meaning to him. “I thought—”

“Really, you have the idea. You’re doing fine.”

Her anxious look prodded him to nestle the dog in his arms and push open the door. “Thanks for the ride.” He shook his head, his eyes searching hers. “I’m sorry if—”