“We’re from two different worlds.”
Malachi nodded. “Maybe so. But she’s here, now, isn’t she?”
She was. But how long could someplace like Arcadia Valley hope to hold her?
Malachi’s elbow dug into Micah’s ribs. Micah turned and hissed at his brother. “Ow. How old are you?”
Malachi jerked his head toward the back of the sanctuary.
Micah looked, freezing when his gaze landed on Serena hesitating in the doorway, her eyes scanning the crowd.
“Go.” Mal’s elbow struck again. “You know she’s here for you.”
“I don’t know that at all.”
Ursula leaned around Malachi and frowned. “Are you really that big of an idiot? Go.”
Hunching his shoulders, Micah stood and slid out of the row. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he strode down the aisle toward Serena. What if he was right and she wasn’t looking for him? He was going to look like an fool. He cleared his throat. “Hey.”
Serena grinned. “Hi. I was hoping I’d see you. It’s more crowded than I imagined.”
“We’re a good-sized church, even if we only have one service.” Why was he defensive? He’d had the same thought the first couple of times he’d come with his sister. But still.
“I wasn’t trying to be disparaging.” Serena sighed. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Micah took a deep breath and shook his head. “Why don’t you tell me what the idea was, and I’ll let you know.”
A smile played at the corners of her lips. “I realized I hadn’t apologized for asking your friends to join us on Friday, and I wanted to do that. I also thought maybe I could make it up to you with lunch after church?”
He nodded slowly, though it rubbed him the wrong way for her to ask him out. Serena was clearly a woman who said what she thought and asked for what she wanted. And wasn’t that better than playing games and expecting him to figure it out? “Definitely not a bad idea.”
She grinned, her breath coming out in a light whoosh. “Excellent.”
“Let’s get a seat—they should be starting any minute.” Micah glanced toward where his family was sitting. Did he want to subject her to that? Of course, if he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. “My family’s all up front...I’m fine either way, but I know they’d like it if you’d join us.”
“Sure. Lead the way.” Serena grabbed his hand with a smile.
His fingers reflexively tightened around hers. There was something there. Was it worth pursuing? He reached the row where his family sat as the music started. He’d have to pray about it—a lot.
The service was good. At least what parts of it he could concentrate on. Serena’s presence was a like a beacon, drawing and holding his attention regardless of his attempts to pay attention to the sermon. He’d forced himself to take notes during the message. Though he usually preferred to sit and absorb, his mind wouldn’t focus without the pen in his hand. At least this way he could read them over at home and try to get more—something?—out of it.
As they stood for the benediction, Serena’s hand once again found his. He smiled and wove his fingers through hers.
“Hi Serena, it’s good to see you again.” Jonah waved from where he sat at the far end of the row.
Serena lifted a hand. “Hi.”
Micah cleared his throat. “You haven’t met my brother Malachi yet, I don’t think. And his fiancée, Ursula. And my sister, Ruth, and her husband, Corban, are around here somewhere. Or they were.”
“Ruth got a text halfway through the sermon. I’m guessing it’s something at the B&B.” Jonah scooted closer. “They snuck out. You going to join us for lunch, Serena?”
“Oh. Um.” Serena turned to meet Micah’s gaze.
Micah shook his head. “I think we’re going to head out on our own. I’ll catch you guys back at home.”
“Nice to meet you.” Serena lifted a hand before turning and edging out into the aisle, her hand reaching again for Micah’s.
He wouldn’t have pegged her for the touchy-feely type. Was she nervous? Insecure? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to complain. He could easily get used to the contact. “Did you have a place in mind? A lot of folks from church end up at the Sunrise Café, so...”
“I make a mean omelet. If you’re interested?”
His eyebrows lifted. That would definitely keep them from being interrupted again. Was it too secluded? Did she have more than breakfast in mind? No. Everything pointed to her having turned her life around. “Sure. That sounds good. I’ll meet you at your place?”
“That works. See you in a few.” She squeezed his hand before heading off toward her car.
Micah frowned. He’d planned to at least walk her over.
“She’s pretty.” Ursula smiled. “She doesn’t usually go here, does she? That hair is hard to miss.”
Micah shook his head. “She goes to Arcadia Valley Community.”
“So she came today to find you?” Malachi waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe your date Friday wasn’t as terrible as you thought.”
“Apparently not. Anyway. She’s making me lunch.”
“Yeah?” Malachi chuckled. “That’s one way to keep you to herself.”
Or for things to get very awkward very fast. Only time would tell. “I should get going. I don’t want her to think I’m standing her up. If you check in on Ruth, would you text me and let me know she’s okay? It’s not like her to leave church.”
Ursula chuckled. “The two of you are a pair. We’re on our way over to the B&B right now. We figure if everything’s okay, we can probably squeeze a meal out of Ruth. And if not, we’re there to help. But we’ll let you know. Enjoy your lunch.”
Micah headed out into the parking lot, offering a few waves to people he knew as he passed. Lunch with Serena. At her house. She was interested in him, that much was obvious, and despite some misgivings, he wanted to see where—if anywhere—it could go. Was it possible to have a regular relationship with someone like her?
8
Serena pressed a hand to her stomach. She hadn’t cooked for a man since Derrick. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was time—past time—to move on. Five years was plenty. Derrick would’ve been the first to say so. She slipped the chain holding the locket she’d had made from their wedding rings out from under her blouse and rubbed it. Moving on didn’t mean forgetting.
She opened the fridge and got out the produce she’d picked up at the farmers market the day before. Micah should be here any minute—he’d probably been stopped by people he knew as he was leaving. Should she have offered to drive him? Then she would have had to bring him back to the church to get his car—or he to get hers, if he’d driven—and that simply hadn’t made sense. Whatever. It didn’t matter now.
She glanced up at the knock on the glass door and beckoned Micah in. “Anything you don’t like in your omelet?”
Micah tucked his hands in his pockets and sauntered to the kitchen island. He tapped the bell pepper. “Not a huge fan, but a little’s okay.”
“Got it. Want to help chop?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Since I already know my way around your kitchen.”
Serena laughed. “Do I need to apologize? Kiln openings make me crazy. Throw in my parents coming, and I was a mess.”
“It’s all good.” Micah scrubbed his hands at the sink. “Where’s your towel?”
“Here.” She flipped the kitchen towel off her shoulder and handed it to him. “Grab a knife. Any vegetable preference?”
“I’ll do the mushrooms. Did you clean them yet?”
Serena handed him the package. “Not yet.”
Micah took them to the sink and wet the corner of the towel. He started wiping the mushrooms, setting the cleaned ones in a pile on the counter. “How’d you like Grace?”
“It was good. I can see why you go there.” She wasn’t ready to leave Arcadia Valley Community, but if Micah needed her to down the road...what was she thinking? It was a long jump fr
om lunch together—a second date, third maybe if you counted pizza—to the kind of future that put them at church together every week. Waking up together. “I was married to Derrick King.”
Micah dropped the mushroom he was holding and turned. “What?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. One of these days she needed to learn to think before she spoke. “Derrick and I were married. No one knew. We hadn’t figured out when—or how—we were going to announce it. Four months. We eloped four months before the accident. I thought you deserved to know.”
“Okay.” He looked back at the mushrooms. “Diced or sliced.”
Diced or sliced? That was it? No questions. Okay. “Um. Diced, I guess.”
Micah slid a cutting board from behind her knife block and began to dice the mushrooms. Serena watched him for a moment before turning back to the onion. They chopped vegetables in companionable silence for several minutes before she reached for the basket of eggs on her counter and began cracking them into a bowl.
“You don’t keep them in the fridge?” Micah brought his pile of diced mushrooms over and set them next to her neat stacks of ingredients. It was a good, uniform dice.
“I bought them at Bigby Farm yesterday. Since they’re not processed like commercial eggs are, they don’t need any special treatment. That’s some good knife work.” Using a fork, she whipped the eggs into a frothy mixture.
“Interesting. We get most of our eggs locally for the bakery—we can’t always get the quantity we need—but we keep them in the fridge. That doesn’t matter, does it?”
“I don’t see why it would.” Serena set her omelet pan on the burner and turned on the gas. When it had warmed, she dropped in some butter. “What do you want? Little bit of everything?”
Micah nodded.
She scooped in toppings and stirred them around until the onions started to turn transparent. Serena’s shoulders loosened as she went through the familiar movements of pouring the egg over the toppings and pushing them around in the pan so they were evenly distributed. “Could you look in the fridge for the cheese? There’s a container—it’s already shredded.”
He came back with a sealed tub. “This?”
“That’s the one.” Serena slid her spatula around the edges of the omelet before giving the pan a little shake. Nodding at how easily the contents slipped around, she gave the pan a fast shove and flick that flipped the eggs expertly.
“I’ve only ever seen Jonah manage that. The few times I’ve tried, I end up eating scrambled eggs scraped up off the stovetop. Sometimes the floor.”
She laughed and turned to meet his gaze. “It just takes practice. And a small pan. I don’t try it with anything larger. You want cheese?”
“Yeah.”
They both reached for the tub at the same time and their hands met. Electricity sparked up her arm. There’d been tingles at church but here, now, it was like a supernova. She drew back and let Micah peel open the lid. She reached in and sprinkled the grated cheese she’d found at the farmers market over the top before flipping half over and sliding Micah’s eggs onto a plate. “Mine will just be a minute. I have everything else set out on the table in the dining room—it’s through that door.”
Micah pointed.
Serena nodded and started her toppings cooking. She’d bought some cinnamon swirl bread from their bakery stall at the market yesterday as well. Malachi had been the only one manning the booth, and it seemed he hadn’t spilled the beans that she’d been by, searching for Micah more than bread. Still, the sweet bread would go well with omelets and fresh fruit. She flipped her eggs over and finished up her own lunch.
“This looks amazing. How’d you get so much done already?” Micah pulled out the chair at her place.
Heat crept across her cheeks. She set her plate down and sat, eyebrows lifting as he helped scoot her chair back in. “I chopped a lot of the toppings up before church. I just had to pull them out when I got here.”
He grinned. “What if I’d said no? Or convinced you to go out?”
She shrugged. “It’d all keep well enough and I’d be set for the week. But I’m glad that’s not how it ended up.”
“Me too.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Can we pray?”
Bracing herself, she put her hand in his. The jolt was less pronounced, but still there. She bowed her head and waited. He didn’t want her to say the blessing, did he? Praying out loud was still considerably outside her comfort zone.
“Dear Jesus, thank you for this food. Please bless it to our bodies. Be with us as we spend time together, let our thoughts and deeds be honoring to You. Amen.” Micah squeezed her fingers before letting go and reaching for a slice of bread. “Is this from the bakery?”
“Yeah. I bought it from Malachi yesterday at the market.” She cut the corner off her eggs. “I was hoping to run into you. Gloria said you usually worked there on Saturdays?”
“Usually. Jonah needed an extra hand in the kitchen, so we propped the door and kept an ear out for customers. Mal’s...not an asset when it comes to the actual baking. But I’m sorry I missed you.”
His words warmed her. Maybe she wasn’t too forward, after all. “It worked out okay. I got to visit your church and meet the rest of your family. And you still came for lunch. All’s well that ends well.”
“I’ve always preferred Much Ado About Nothing or Midsummer’s Night Dream, but that works.”
She grinned and took another bite of eggs. “You like Shakespeare?”
“What’s not to like? Drama, intrigue, comedy—even the romance isn’t so over the top that it makes you gag.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Not into romance?”
His cheeks reddened, but he held her gaze. “Not in my reading material, no.”
He’d emphasized reading material just enough to make her heart lift. He did feel it—he had to. “You’re missing out. Romance is one of my favorite things.”
When the food was gone and the dishes stacked in the dishwasher, Serena slipped her hand into Micah’s and tugged him toward the patio doors. “Let’s go for a walk. Unless you need to go?”
“I have time. Sunday is the one day of the week where I don’t have any work or family obligations. And usually those are the same thing since I work with family.”
“Do you like it? Working with your brothers? Living here in the same town as your sister? It’s not too much, too close?” Some days L.A. had been stifling. Even in a big city, her parents had been everywhere—or people who knew her parents. And if it wasn’t family, it was photographers and fans all trying to see whether she’d asked for extra whipped cream on her coffee and speculating about the tiniest bit of weight gain. In Arcadia Valley, since no one really knew who she was, they never looked too close.
“Most days. And when it feels like there’s nowhere to get away, I go for a walk or take over deliveries and head into Twin Falls. A little change of pace just to mix things up is usually all I need. I thought I’d miss D.C., but I don’t. Do you miss California?”
Serena led him around the back of her studio toward the river that flowed along the border of her property. “There’s nothing for me there now.”
“Your parents? Grandparents? Friends? Aren’t they all still there?”
“They all expect me to be someone I can’t be anymore.” Serena gazed at the sunlight glinting off the surface of the water.
“What do you mean?” Micah gently squeezed her hand. There was no reason for the simple gesture to impart such strength. But it did.
“Derrick and I...” She paused and pressed a hand to her chest to soothe the ache before starting again. “Acting was all I knew for as long as I can remember. I was on set with my parents, or my grandparents, until they got me my first role. Then it became a circus of what time who had to be where and how we were all going to get where we needed to be. I liked it. I can’t say I didn’t. But there was always something missing, some part of me that felt empty. And then I met Derrick when I was seventeen and there wa
s practically an audible click.”
Micah’s hold on her hand loosened. “You were off and on—more off than on, it seemed—for a number of years though.”
She laughed. So he wasn’t oblivious to who she was, after all. Why should that matter? Hadn’t she convinced herself she wanted someone who had no idea about her past? Someone who could love her solely based on who she was today? Not that they were anywhere near love, but the point was the same...maybe it was better this way after all. “We were. I was young and doing anything I could to get my parents’ attention. I wouldn’t have admitted that then, mind you. That’s the hindsight of time and therapy. Derrick was basically in the same boat. But neither of us could stay away—it wasn’t the healthiest of relationships. The night of my twenty-first birthday we finally stopped playing games with each other and, after all the party guests were gone, we got in his little plane, flew to Vegas, and got married. He loved the plane—we took it out every chance we got.”
“No one knew you were married.” He pulled his hand away and tucked it in his pocket.
“No, they didn’t. We didn’t want to ruin it with the frenzy that would certainly happen. And we’d lived together off and on anyway.” She winced. So much of her life had been lived in almost gleeful violation of how God wanted things done. Although, it was just the way things were—she hadn’t known any different. Could Micah see past that? Would he be willing to forgive her past like Jesus had? “He’d been having seizures for about six months. They were random, unpredictable, and he refused to go to the doctor. I think I’d almost convinced him...but he never got the chance. We were flying out to Catalina Island for the weekend. He started to shake just as we were making our approach. That airstrip is at the top of the mountain, there’s no room for error...everyone says it’s a miracle...”
Cookies & Candlelight: An Arcadia Valley Romance (Baxter Family Bakery Book 3) Page 7