“I’m aware of that fact, and it’s nice to know you’re not some possessive freak.”
He grinned at the tart reply.
“I’ll be truthful, Vance, it’d be so easy for me to—to fall for you. I feel like I’m teetering on the brink.” Meg relaxed in the rocker again. “At the same time, I want to teach in Stanford, live in Miracle forever. That’s why I refuse to do anything that might, well, destroy our faith in God and others’ faith in us.” She paused. “I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t want to do anything either one of us might regret later.”
“Nor do I.” He hadn’t expected such candidness, but he appreciated it. And it was still further proof that she would never be deceptive.
“I want to take things slow, leave it in God’s hands.” Meg’s voice sounded soft, but sure. “That way I can face my family and sit in church with my head held high—because I’ve done nothing wrong.”
She snuggled in beside him, and he caught the delicate, floral scent emanating from her silky hair.
“What do you think, Vance?”
“Um, yeah, taking it slow is good. Safe, you know—for both of us.” He felt so distracted by her that he barely knew what he was saying.
“Exactly.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and a few minutes of silence passed. “What a gorgeous night.”
“Yeah.”
“I enjoy your company.”
“I enjoy yours, too, Meg. I look forward to seeing you every day.”
“You’re different from any guy I’ve ever known. You’re real.”
He couldn’t help teasing her. “You in the habit of dating plastic men?”
Meg laughed. “You know what I mean.”
She tried to tickle his midsection, but Vance caught her wrist before she could do any damage.
“I know what you mean.” He recalled how she’d confided in him, telling him how she’d been hurt and betrayed in the past.
All humor left him. “I’ll never break your heart, Meg. I swear.”
“I know.” She leaned against him and placed a kiss on his jaw.
Then her foot brushed against his blue-jean-clad leg, and his head spun like a top. Vance was no fool; he knew exactly what was happening to him. That brink she mentioned—he thought he might have just fallen over the edge.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Imagine that. It’s the first week of November.” Loretta sat at her kitchen table, sipping her morning coffee. Tom sat across from her, crunching on gingersnap cookies. “Three weeks until Meggie’s birthday. And then Thanksgiving.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “I don’t suppose it’s too soon to start planning now.”
“Aw, Retta, don’t blame me for getting you all sidetracked. September was a mite early for planning. You got to admit that.”
“I’ll admit to no such thing.” She lifted her pen and jotted down a few names on the pad of paper beside her porcelain coffee cup. She’d been hinting around and felt confident that Meggie would enjoy a surprise birthday gathering with some of her new friends, such as Leah Lawton, Eddie, Boz, and his wife, Tara. Of course, Vance would be invited, too. “Maybe the Friday night before the Thanksgiving holiday would be a good time to have Meg’s party.”
Tom shrugged. “Good as any, I reckon.”
Loretta ignored his apathy.
“Meggie and Vance Bayer are quite the talk of the town, aren’t they?” Tom slurped his coffee.
“They are.” Loretta was happy for the two young people. They both deserved some happiness after all they’d been through.
“She’s over there at his house ever’ evening after school, and he’s over here with that little girl of his on Sunday afternoons. That is, when they’re not over at Paul’s place.”
She smiled, feeling almost as pleased that Meg had become close to her family and was getting to know her cousins, uncles, and aunts. It was more than Loretta ever hoped and prayed for.
“If she marries Vance, she’d be an instant mama. What does Meg think about that?”
Loretta raised her chin. “I don’t think she’s intimidated one bit, Tom.” She tipped her head, regarding her wrinkly faced friend. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. It’s a big undertaking, marrying a man with a handicapped little girl.”
“Big undertaking for you or me, maybe, but not for Meg. She’s a teacher and she loves children. And they take to her.”
“Like cotton candy.” Tom grinned.
Loretta smiled at the analogy and stood. “Want a warm up?” She knew he did, so without waiting for reply, she refilled his coffee mug along with her own.
“Speaking of kids.” She reclaimed her seat at the kitchen table. “Did you see Cammy with those twins last weekend? Gracious me, but I never saw those boys acting like such clowns.”
“Showin’ off for the little girl.” Tom smirked.
“Cammy laughed so hard.”
“Sure did.” A pensive expression clouded his weathered face. “A person forgets she’s handicapped sometimes.”
“True. It’s such a shame she’s bound to that wheelchair.”
“Might be the Good Lord knew it was the only way a body’d keep up with her.” Tom took another guzzle of his brew. “Sort of evens the odds.”
“Meg, are you sure you don’t mind?”
Crossing her arms, she stared back at Vance. “For the tenth time, I don’t mind. Now, go play cards with your buddies. You need a night out with the guys.”
“Yeah, Daddy, go.”
Vance looked a little hurt as his gaze flicked from Meg to Cammy, who lay on the couch.
“Eager to get rid of your ol’ man, huh?”
“Yep. Meg said we could paint our toenails tonight while you’re gone.”
Meg stared at the ceiling, feigning innocence.
“Meg said that, did she?”
When she looked back at him, he arched a brow.
“I told Cammy it was all right if she called me by my first name when we’re not at school. I know we didn’t discuss the matter.” Meg usually tried to be careful not to tread on Vance’s role as Cammy’s father, but she’d grown to love the little girl and occasionally she forgot herself. “I hope it’s okay with you.”
“Of course it’s okay with me.” His gaze searched her face before he smiled. “It’s really your decision and comfort level. I mean, Cammy might slip at school.”
“I’ve heard worse slips. Trust me.”
“Yeah, Daddy, you shoulda heard what Joey Milton said when he flunked his science test.”
“If it’s bad, don’t repeat it.”
“It’s bad, so I won’t.”
Meg sucked in her lower lip to keep from grinning. The swear had even taken her aback. His parents had been notified and even the principal had gotten involved.
Vance’s gaze returned to her. “Maybe I should carry Cammy into bed before I leave.”
“We’ll manage.” Meg often assisted her in the bathroom at school, and she’d tucked Cammy into bed a number of times in the weeks past. “Now, go. You’ve got till midnight, Prince Charming.” On tiptoes, she kissed his check. “Go.”
From her perch on the sofa, Cammy giggled.
Vance crossed the room and placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “Be good.”
Cammy heaved an exasperated sigh. “Daddy, will you just hurry and leave so me and Meg can paint our toenails?”
“Meg and I.” The teacher in Meg never seemed completely off duty.
“Meg and I.” Cammy stared up into Vance’s face, giving him a sweet smile.
“All right. All right. I’m leaving.”
Meg followed him on to the porch. She suddenly felt like they were playing house. She was the mommy and Vance was the daddy. . .
She felt an innate stirring in her soul. Playing house with Vance forever appealed to her. It appealed to her a lot.
“I’ll probably only sit in for one hand.”
“Enjoy yourself, Vance. You deserve it.” Meg h
ad seen firsthand how, after laboring over small engine parts, grease, and grime all day, he came home and mowed the lawn, tossed loads of wash into the machine, made supper, did dishes, helped Cammy with homework, prompted her to wash up, exercised with her, and finally tucked her into bed. The poor guy got very little downtime, and even though his insurance would likely cover the expense, he refused to hire a home health aid. While she admired his determination to care for his daughter, Meg found herself feeling somewhat neglected when Vance didn’t get a chance to call. She’d learned to overcome it by insinuating herself into the Bayers’ everyday routine.
Vance, of course, denied it was any kind of “insinuation.” Time after time, he thanked her for “being there.” He’d just never known how to ask, or he didn’t think he’d had a right to.
“You know—” His brows drew together in obvious bemusement. “I can’t recall the last time I went off to play cards with friends and felt totally at ease about leaving Cammy, except for maybe when her grandparents come for a visit.”
“You’re wasting ti-ime.”
“Right.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips. A moment later, Meg found herself wrapped in his arms. As always, her limbs went weak and she marveled that he could have such an effect on her. “Maybe I’ll stay home.”
Somehow she found the will to push him away. He needed a night out with his buddies. “Good-bye.”
Re-entering the house, Meg closed the door, leaned against it, and smiled at Cammy.
“I never thought you’d get rid of him.” She put her hand over her mouth and giggled.
Meg laughed, too, noticing the teasing glint in the child’s blue eyes.
“Will you put that happy red polish on my toes?”
“Happy red?”
“Yeah, like the kind you wore to the Owenses’ Labor Day picnic.”
Meg found her black school bag and fished around for the bottles of polish she’d dropped in there this morning. She’d known for a couple of days that Vance had been invited over to Boz’s tonight, and when Cammy mentioned she wanted to polish her nails. . .
“This one?” Meg held up the bottle, then set it in the little girl’s outstretched hand.
“Yeah!” Cammy sat forward. “This is it! It’s the color I’ve begged and begged my daddy for, but he said he wasn’t about to pay three dollars for nail polish, and I didn’t like any of the ninety-nine-cent ones. But this is just perfect.”
“Well, if you don’t like it once it’s on, we can take it off and use a different color.” Meg retrieved the polish remover and cotton balls from her bag, too.
“Oh, I’ll like it just fine.”
Meg took care as she placed Cammy’s foot in her lap. She felt the child’s gaze as she began the procedure. “I never painted someone else’s toenails before.”
“Me neither.”
Meg grinned.
She finished with one foot, and while the polish dried, they turned on the TV and watched about ten minutes of a program before Meg started on the other foot.
“Hold still, will you?” A glob of “happy red” now colored the tops of two toes because Cammy had wiggled.
Wiggled?
Meg slowly turned, feeling herself gape. She wiggled!
“I’m sorry, Miss Jorgenson—I mean, Meg. But it tickled.”
“You can feel me painting your toenails?”
“Uh-huh.” Cammy bobbed her dark head.
Confusion welled up in Meg. How could that be? An involuntary movement? But Cammy said she felt something. Had she really?
Met let several minutes pass before she surreptitiously tickled the sole of Cammy’s foot. She watched for a reaction, even a hint of a reaction.
Nothing.
With a dab of polish remover on a cotton ball, she removed the wayward crimson streaks, realizing how very little she knew about spinal cord injuries and neuroscience in general.
“Are you still doing research?”
Meg glanced up from the screen of her notebook computer and smiled at Leah. Since she didn’t have an Internet connection at Grams’ house, she’d been here at school since eight this morning, even though it was Saturday. She’d told Leah to meet her here at Fairview and then they’d do their shopping and have lunch as planned. “I’m just waiting for this Web site to load. Hey, did you know that there’s a program at the University of Kentucky Children’s Hospital for kids with SCIs—spinal cord injuries? Pediatric neurosurgeons are using these experimental wireless devices that they strap onto their patients’ legs. They send controlled bursts of electricity to the muscles, and many of their patients learn to walk again!”
“No kidding.” Leah looked amazed.
“One neurologist said that a lot of SCI patients get written off by their doctors and told nothing more can be done for them. From what Vance has told me, it sounds like that’s how it is with Cammy. But these medical devices have given a lot of people hope. The only drawback is that the equipment is expensive, and most insurance companies don’t cover the cost.”
“Have you mentioned these devices to Vance?”
“Not yet.” Meg scanned the Web site she’d logged onto, then decided it wasn’t what she wanted. She exited out of it and shut down her computer. “He’s let me know in certain ways that the subject isn’t really open for discussion. I mean, he answers my questions, and he’ll talk freely about Cammy’s injuries, but when I broach the subject of new technology or getting second opinions about her condition, he clams up tight.”
“Sounds like it’s still painful for him.”
“To a degree, yes, and yet—” Meg paused, wondering whether it was appropriate to share her observations. Then she decided that, if anything, she needed to talk about them. “When Vance’s wife was killed and Cammy paralyzed, it was so traumatic for him that I think now he balks at any kind of change. For instance, I put away some dishes in the wrong cupboard and he corrected me and showed me where they go.
He was really sweet about it, but when I pointed out that it might be more convenient if the dishes were placed in a different spot, he refused to even consider the idea.”
“Set in his ways?”
“It’s more than that.” Meg walked around her desk and leaned against it. She stuck her hands in her blue jeans pockets and regarded Leah. Her friend sat just a few feet away, wearing faded jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. “I sometimes wonder if he expects a woman who will pick up where Angie left off, and I’m not willing to assume that role. I want my own, unique role in Vance’s life. Cammy’s, too. I’ve told him that, but I don’t think my words sank in.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Not sure. Both Vance and Cammy have managed to find special places in my heart in a very short time. I can’t imagine my life without either of them, and yet I can’t live my life in the shadow of Angie.”
“Pray, Meg. Just pray. Only God can set a guy straight when it comes to his thinking.”
“I hope you’re right, Leah, because I have been praying. A lot.” She stepped back around her desk and locked up her computer in its large bottom drawer. As she snatched her purse, she determined to focus on the day ahead. “Ready to shop till you drop?”
“Ready.”
Meg locked up her classroom and then she and Leah ambled out to the parking lot. The sun shone down from between dusty-looking clouds, and the air hung thick with humidity.
“Guess it’s going to storm later.”
Meg pulled out her car keys. “I heard the same thing this morning on the radio.” She pointed to her Civic. “Let’s take my car.”
“Okay, I’ll drive next time.”
Meg unlocked the doors with her keychain and they climbed in.
“Heard anything from your mom lately?”
“Heard from her this morning, in fact.” Meg couldn’t constrain a laugh as she pulled the seatbelt across her chest. “Mom e-mailed me and said she thinks I’m having a nervous breakdown because I enjoy living in Miracle
and actually look forward to the women’s weekly Bible study. Mom wrote that she raised me to be a ‘free thinker,’ and it hurts her that I’m allowing myself to be brainwashed.”
“How’d you reply?”
“I wrote back, saying that if this is a nervous breakdown and I’m being brainwashed, then bring it on, because I’ve never felt happier in my life.”
Leah smiled. “I love hearing you say that. It encourages those of us who have chosen to stay in our hometown. After all, your mama isn’t the only one who has left this area feeling bitter and oppressed, looking for something more out there.”
Meg started her car. “I don’t know if my mother was ever bitter and oppressed. Sounds like Dad tried to give her the world on a silver platter. For myself, I learned Mom’s approach to life doesn’t work.”
“God’s way does.”
“God’s way does.” It still surprised Meg to hear herself admit it.
She pulled out of Fairview’s parking lot and passed Kent’s Corvette.
“Look over there.”
Meg directed her gaze out the window to where Leah pointed at Kent and a group of middle-school-aged boys, kicking a black and white ball across the grass.
“He’s got his soccer team together.” Leah sounded awed. “Good for him.”
“Yep. Kent stopped by my classroom this morning. I must have mentioned I was going to be here, although I don’t remember doing so. But he brought me a cup of Starbucks coffee.”
“How thoughtful.” Leah turned a smile on her. “Don’t you think?”
“For sure.” Meg couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a cup of the strong, rich brew. It’d been a nice surprise, and she’d enjoyed the coffee as she surfed the Internet.
“Kent’s changed a lot, I think.” Leah’s voice sounded quiet and thoughtful.
“Well, I don’t know about ‘a lot.’ But he’s changed—and for the better.”
“He loves kids.”
Love Finds You in Miracle, Kentucky Page 22