Читать книгу Their Christmas Prayer - Myra Johnson, Myra Johnson - Страница 15

The next few days had Shaun overanalyzing everything about Wednesday’s meeting with Brooke—including his openness to pray. Proved he and God were still on speaking terms, anyway, even if he was still light-years away from discerning the Lord’s plan for his life.

Walking one of Kent’s horses out to pasture on Saturday morning, he gave the gentle sorrel mare a scratch under the chin. Posey snorted her appreciation, her warm breath forming clouds in the chilly air. “You’ve got it good here, girl,” Shaun said as he unbuckled her halter. “Maybe if I spent my days munching grass and rolling in the dust, life wouldn’t seem so complicated.”

“Talking to horses is good therapy.”

Shaun turned to find Kent grinning at him across the fence rail. “One thing’s for sure—they don’t give me grief like my future brother-in-law.”

Kent released the gate latch and waited for Shaun to amble out. “Thought you were meeting with Brooke again today.”

“We’re having an early lunch at the supermarket deli.” He looped the halter and lead rope over the rail. “Which means I need to finish my chores pretty quick and clean up.”

“Work any harder around here and I won’t know what to do after you move on.”

Laughing, Shaun started back to the barn. “Maybe hire someone you’ll actually pay?”

“Room and board’s not enough for you?” Kent gave him a playful slug in the arm. “If you’re holding out for cable TV and maid service, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

They traded a few more friendly gibes before Kent saddled Jasmine and rode out to check on his cattle, and Shaun got busy mucking stalls.

He’d enjoyed getting to know Kent over the past few weeks. Watching him with Erin evoked not only joy at seeing his sister so happy after her failed first marriage but a twinge of envy as well. Serving on the mission field, Shaun had encountered more than a few single women his age who shared both his faith and his passion for those in need. He’d even had a couple of relationships he thought might actually go somewhere.

But something always held him back. In one case, it was because he’d felt the call to transfer elsewhere, but she hadn’t sensed the same leading. His second time around, they ultimately agreed their personality differences would only lead to problems down the road. But a huge factor for Shaun was the fear of divided loyalties. Could he sustain a healthy marriage while also devoting himself to mission service? And what of children? Starting a family involved a whole different set of decisions.

Now here he was, ankle-deep in soiled shavings and doing nothing remotely close to the plans and goals he’d set for himself as a seminary student. Was that the root of his current dissatisfaction—that he’d rushed ahead with his own agenda instead of listening more closely for God’s direction?

He couldn’t deny he’d experienced a sense of peace and relief when he’d first returned to the States and Greg had suggested he spend some time in Juniper Bluff. So maybe his stay here—yes, even the Christmas outreach project—was part of God’s will.

As for meeting Brooke Willoughby? Guess he’d have to wait and see.

Two hours later, he climbed into the battered green hatchback he’d held onto since college, mainly so he’d have something to drive during his stateside visits. Arriving at the deli, he claimed a table to wait for Brooke. When she sauntered in, curls loose about her shoulders and wearing a tunic-length striped sweater over black leggings, he allowed himself an appreciative grin. Working on this project with someone as sharp and as pretty as Brooke Willoughby definitely earned a mark in the plus column.

Pulling out the chair across from him, she nodded as he stood to welcome her. “I like a guy who’s prompt.”

“Don’t get used to it. A fresh deli sandwich just sounded a lot more appealing than another PB and J with Kent.”

Brooke laughed as she set her tote next to her chair. “Can’t blame you. Shall we talk first or get some lunch?”

“Breakfast was a long time ago. I vote for lunch,” Shaun said over his rumbling stomach. “Tell me what you’d like and I’ll place our order.”

He returned shortly with two sandwiches, potato chips and iced teas. “The one with the straw is your sweet tea,” he said. “Everything else is the same.”

Unwrapping her sandwich, Brooke cast him a smile. “You got the ham and Swiss on rye, too?”

“My favorite. And sour-cream-and-onion chips—missed those like crazy overseas.” Shaun ripped open the bag.

“Not a fan of sweet tea, though?”

He grimaced. “Makes my mouth pucker.”

Remembering his commitment to start these meetings with prayer, he offered thanks for the meal and asked the Lord to bless their discussion. Considering how long it had taken them to narrow down their top-three list the other morning, agreeing on a single best plan of action would require God’s help in abundance.

They settled into comfortable silence while they ate. The way Brooke held her sandwich just so, keeping the bottom half in the wrapper so the juices didn’t drip, then dabbing the corners of her lips after every bite, Shaun couldn’t picture her ever being comfortable in a Third World country. And since it looked more and more like his sabbatical would be over by the end of the year, whatever other common likes or dislikes they might discover were moot.

Finishing the last bite of her sandwich, Brooke wadded up the wrapper. “Guess we should get started.”

After another swig of tea, Shaun reached beneath his chair for the steno pad he’d been using to collect his thoughts.

He watched with amusement while Brooke cleared a space on the small table for her tablet computer with attached keyboard. She laid her cell phone beside it. After several keystrokes and a few scowls and hmms while she appeared to search for her notes, she looked up with a satisfied smile. “Okay, all set.”

With great flourish, Shaun flipped open his steno pad and whipped a ballpoint pen from his shirt pocket. “Me, too.”

Her scowl returned, but a teasing glint flashed in her eyes. “You’re purposely trying to annoy me, I can tell.”

“Who, me?” What was it about this woman that brought out his playful side? Or was he merely growing more and more relaxed the longer he stayed in Juniper Bluff? Either way, it was a welcome change. He sat back and crossed his arms. “Since you’re so organized, why don’t you go first?”

“I will, thank you.” Brooke arched a brow as she turned her attention to her tablet screen. “Of the top three ideas we’d settled on, I’m leaning toward collecting grocery items and delivering them to needy families so they can make their own Christmas dinner. One of the agencies I contacted said they could provide some names.”

“Christmas dinner? Is that the best we can do?” Shaun had already crossed that idea off his list. All humor evaporating, he flipped to the page where he’d jotted his reasons. “Donating a few turkeys, yams and cans of cranberry sauce sounds easy and doable. But it’s one meal. So we do our good deed for the holiday and feel good about ourselves for the rest of the year, while these families face another year of wondering how they’re going to feed their kids or keep a roof over their heads? Sorry, that doesn’t work for me.”

Brooke stiffened. “Obviously, you have strong feelings about this. I wish you’d said something before we included that option on our list.”

He hadn’t meant to offend her, but clearly he had. He lifted both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’ve had more time to think about it, that’s all, and I think we can do better. I’d rather we choose something that will benefit the recipients for more than a single day.”

Lips pursed, Brooke typed something into her tablet. “Okay, one of our other ideas was organizing a Christmas store. We talked about collecting toys, clothing and other items, and then bringing families in to select Christmas gifts for each other—things they’d be able to use year-round.” She shot him a raised-eyebrow glare that communicated, I dare you to shoot this one down.

He drew a deep breath. “On the surface, it seems like a good plan. But you know what they say. Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day—”

“Teach a man to fish and he’ll never go hungry.” Brooke nodded briskly. “I get it, okay? But this is just a Christmas outreach. That’s all we signed up for. We’re not out to save the world.”

Fist clenched in his lap, Shaun glanced away. “Just doesn’t cut it for me, Brooke. Never has, never will.” Scooting his chair back, he gathered up his pen and steno pad along with the trash from his lunch. “Sorry to cut this short, but I told Kent I’d mow his lawn this afternoon. I should get going.”

What just happened here? Brooke picked up her jaw before it crashed onto her tablet keyboard. She swiveled in time to see Shaun toss his trash into the nearest receptacle before he marched out of the deli.

“We never even got to idea number three,” she muttered, her gaze shooting daggers at Shaun’s rapidly retreating back. Oh, well, he probably had a dozen reasons why he didn’t like that one, either.

Then why hadn’t he said something the other day when they were first paring down their list?

Her glance fell upon a nearby display of baked goods, where a tin of chocolate-frosted brownies sprinkled with walnuts caught her eye. Unable to resist, she hurried to stow her tablet and dispose of her trash, then took the brownies to the deli cashier. Five minutes later, she sat in her car with the open container on her lap. She was just about frustrated enough to eat the whole batch.

Sanity prevailed, however, and she stopped at two. After finding a used tissue to wipe crumbs and frosting off her lips and fingers, she decided some retail therapy was in order. Maybe not as good for her wallet but much better for the waistline. She headed downtown and parked at one end of Main Street across from the town square.

Two ladies’ boutiques, a card shop and the drugstore later, she now owned a new pair of silver hoop earrings and two bottles of nail polish. The next shop, WE Design, boasted a window display of handmade baskets amid autumn leaves and colorful gourds. While Brooke gnawed her lower lip and wondered if Shaun’s sister had made these baskets, an auburn-haired woman juggling an art portfolio and a huge cardboard box stumbled toward the entrance.

“Let me get the door for you,” Brooke offered, recognizing Erin Dearborn from the Sunday school class. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Thank you!” Sparkling blue eyes peeked over the top of the box. “It’s not as heavy as it looks, just bulky.”

As Brooke held the door, the petite woman edged through. A glimpse inside the crate revealed several different-sized baskets. “You’re Shaun O’Grady’s sister, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and you’re Brooke from the chamber. Hi, nice to see you again.”

A million questions racing through her head, Brooke followed Erin inside. Maybe Shaun’s sister could give her a little more insight into what made the guy tick.

Behind the counter, a buxom woman in a full, flowing skirt was completing a phone call. She stepped around to relieve Erin of the box. “Mrs. Yates just called to reschedule her living-room consultation for Monday morning. Said she forgot about the church seniors trip to Kerrville today.”

Church seniors trip—must be the same one Brooke’s dad had signed up for. Seemed his social life was going gangbusters since they moved to Juniper Bluff.

Erin set down her portfolio. “Oh, good. That gives me more time to fine-tune my presentation.” She turned to Brooke with a smile. “Let me introduce Wanda Flynn, the other half of WE Design.”

Wanda offered her hand. “Redecorating is our specialty. Is there a project we can help you with?”

“Actually, I was hoping Erin could spare a few minutes. I’m Brooke Willoughby. Shaun and I—”

“Yes, the church committee. I’m so glad you two are working together.” Erin leaned closer, her tone becoming secretive. “He’d never admit it, but he really needs this.”

Maybe so, but Brooke didn’t need the man’s uncompromising attitude. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Ten minutes later, they sat across from each other at Diana’s Donuts. Brooke had wisely left her remaining brownies in the car, but control had gone out the window since lunch, and she couldn’t resist a caramel latte with whipped cream. Watching Erin sip Earl Grey with nothing but a dash of honey, Brooke suffered a twinge of guilt but quickly brushed it aside. She had more pressing matters on her mind than counting calories.

“I assume you want to talk about my brother,” Erin said with a guarded smile.

“I’m just trying to understand him.” Brooke dabbed whipped cream from her lips. “We met over lunch to discuss this outreach project but couldn’t agree on anything.”

“I guess it’s pretty obvious Shaun is an idealist, especially when it comes to making people’s lives better.”

“Which I’m sure served him well on the mission field. But this is small-town Juniper Bluff, and we’re just one teensy church committee.” Brooke’s frustration boiled over again. “Just. That’s the exact word he used. He said just doesn’t cut it for him.”

“Sounds like Shaun. He’s never done anything halfway. Kent, my fiancé, even jokes about how hard Shaun works at the ranch.”

Another sip of the caramel latte left a cloying taste in Brooke’s mouth. She set the mug aside and folded her hands. “So how do I work with him without losing my mind? I don’t want to disappoint the service committee, but if he isn’t willing to bend a little, this project is dead in the water.”

“I wish I had answers for you.” Sighing, Erin rested her forearms on the table. “When Shaun came home from the mission field at the end of the summer, he was a real mess—angry, discouraged, totally burned out. That’s why our brother Greg brought him to Juniper Bluff. We’re hoping his time here will give him some perspective and help him figure out where God wants him.”

So he was merely biding his time, hoping for an answer to drop out of the sky? Typically preferring action over indecisiveness, Brooke wasn’t sure she could relate. She raised her hands in surrender and leaned back in her chair. “Okay, I’ll try to keep an open mind. But Christmas isn’t that far away, and we need to agree on a plan sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll try talking to him, too. Just be patient. If you’re willing to give his ideas a chance, I know this will all work out for the best.” With a quick glance at the time, Erin drained the last of her tea. “I should get back to the shop, but I’m glad we had a chance to talk, and I hope we’ll become good friends.”

“I’d like that.” Brooke stood to share a parting hug with Erin. “And thanks for giving me some insight into Shaun.”

“I promise, once you get to know him, you’ll see what a great guy he is.”

Brooke could only nod and hope Erin was right. Much as she respected and admired Shaun for his missionary service, and even though she did find his quirky sense of humor appealing, she had no intention of allowing his personal issues to sabotage the Christmas outreach.

Completing his final pass with the riding lawn mower, Shaun shut off the blades and steered the mower toward the garage. The combined smells of cut grass and gasoline filled his nostrils, but nothing stunk so bad as the way he’d handled things earlier with Brooke.

Years ago, his favorite seminary professor had cautioned him about his idealism. “Not everything is black-and-white, Shaun. Demanding perfection from yourself or any other human being—at least in this life—will only bring disappointment.”

He was sure enough disappointed in himself, and he owed Brooke an apology. He wouldn’t blame her if she’d already phoned Emily Ingram to plead for someone else to partner with for the Christmas service project. Maybe he should have simply gone along with one of the plans Brooke had presented. The three possibilities they’d initially agreed to consider weren’t inherently bad, but after he’d had time to mull them over for a few days, he hadn’t been able to reconcile how limited they were. He wanted to do more.

He needed to do more, or a month or a year or a decade from now, none of it would matter.

Shoulders sagging, he trudged out of the garage and gazed up through the live oak branches toward a cloudless autumn sky. “I get it, Lord. I’m pushing too hard again.”

He’d back off, and he’d ask Brooke’s forgiveness and hope she’d give him another chance. He tugged his phone from his back pocket and started to call her but then decided she deserved the courtesy of a face-to-face apology. Maybe he could snag a few minutes with her after church in the morning, after they’d both had more time to cool off.

As he started toward the house, a shiny red sedan slowed at the end of the driveway as if searching for an address. Then the car turned in, tires rumbling over the cattle guard. Kent was out with the herd, and Shaun didn’t know enough about the area to offer directions, but he strode over anyway to help however he could.

With the tinted windows and the angle of the sun, he couldn’t make out the driver’s face—until the door opened and Brooke emerged. She slammed her door, then stood with feet apart and arms crossed. “Good, I found the right place. Hello again, Shaun.”

“Uh, hi.” His mouth tasted like dust and mown grass, which didn’t fully account for why he felt utterly speechless. “I—I was going to—”

She held up one hand. “Let me say what I came to say. As reluctant as I was at first, I’ve made a commitment to see this project through. I’d like us to try harder to work through our differences, but if you’re calling it quits, I need to know now.”

“I’m not.” The words came out in a squeak. He cleared his throat and spoke more firmly. “I’m not quitting, Brooke.”

Her brows shot up in surprise. “You’re—you’re not? I just figured—”

“I’m really sorry about leaving so abruptly after lunch.” Finding his courage, he stepped close enough to see the golden glints in her brown eyes. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “When I get focused on something, I can be pretty opinionated, I know.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” she muttered with a sidelong glance. Heaving a sigh, she went on, “You should also know I spoke with your sister this afternoon. She filled me in on a few things.”

Wincing, Shaun lowered his head. “What exactly did Erin tell you?”

“About how you never do anything halfway. How you got really burned out on your last missionary posting.” Brooke braced her hips against the fender. “How I should be patient and listen to your ideas.”

Smiling inwardly, he sent his sister a mental thank-you. “So...you’re willing to continue working with me?”

She didn’t answer right away. “In my advertising career I dealt with more than my share of difficult clients, and if they didn’t respect my professional expertise, I dropped them—politely, of course, but life is too short for that kind of stress.”

“I get it. I’m a stress-inducing pain.” Shaun studied his dirt-encrusted sneakers for a moment before peering up at her. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

Hands lifted, Brooke gave an exaggerated huff. “Why else would I have driven all the way out here to clear the air when I could be shopping for things I don’t need or pigging out on brownies and caramel lattes?”

He must have lost something in translation, but as long as she wasn’t writing him off, he’d count his blessings. Which he probably hadn’t been doing enough of lately, and which most likely had contributed to his lousy attitude. His lips twitched in a smile. “So I guess we should talk more about these outreach ideas.”

“Yes, but not today.” Lips tight, Brooke hiked her chin. “I’m not feeling particularly charitable at the moment.”

“Toward me, or toward the world in general?”

“Mostly you.”

Did she have any idea the effect her persistence was having on him, the way her eyes glinted with mischief even as she threw him a peevish pout? Shaun tamped down the niggling twinges of attraction. “Okay, then. You name the time and place.”

“I’ll check my calendar and call you tomorrow.” She turned to open her car door.

“Maybe I’ll see you at church?”

She mumbled something under her breath that sounded a lot like “Not if I see you first.”

Watching her drive away, Shaun massaged the back of his neck. Crazy as it seemed, he was definitely experiencing more than friendly interest in Brooke Willoughby. Pretty obvious the feeling wasn’t mutual, but since he didn’t foresee sticking around Juniper Bluff beyond the first of the year, he had no business dwelling on it. He just needed to stay on her good side long enough to organize the Christmas outreach.

In the meantime, he’d better pray even harder for direction about where he went from here, because half of the two weeks Henry Voss had given him had already zipped past, and Shaun didn’t feel any closer to clarity than he had the day Henry had called.