by Cheryl Wyatt
“Yes. Seems he’s making extraordinary progress.”
Chloe cleared her throat. “Also, he seems to cheer up when you pay attention to him.” Ivan had invited them to lunch during times Chance trained at the gym and DZ.
“Oh, stop. That’s silly. The man just lost his wife.”
“Over nine months ago. Statistics show that a huge percentage of widowers remarry within a year.”
Mary gasped. “As a woman I must say that’s depressing. I’d hate the thought of my husband replacing me so soon.”
Chloe lifted her shoulders. “God said it best: ‘It’s not good for man to be alone.’”
“Then why are you so resistant to dating Chance?”
Chloe’s shoulders dropped and her eyebrows drooped. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from the woman who told me every day from the time I was two to make sure I attain all my dreams before I marry.”
Mary paled. “Mothers aren’t always right. Especially young ones who wrongly speak to their children out of their own pain because they think they don’t have anybody else to talk to. Those words never should have touched your ears, Chloe. You should reconsider.”
Her mother’s words seared Chloe’s heart. She’d built her life on the foundation of her mother’s early advice.
Had it misled her?
For once the thought of a relationship with Chance felt freeing rather than constricting. But Chance had acted strange yesterday. Why? “Chance hardly said anything last night. Maybe he’s mad at me.”
“Not every man uses the silent treatment to make their anger known. Don’t automatically assume people are displeased with you if there’s a millisecond of silence.”
“No offense to Dad, being he’s gone and all, but I know that’s why I turned out to be such a chatterbox.”
“I love your talkative nature. I’m just sorry about how you got that way.” Mary patted her cheeks.
“Where will you be while I’m in my meeting?”
“I’ll be right down the street drinking coffee at Square Beans.”
Mary parked and wished her daughter success, then exited the car and headed for the coffee shop. Chloe took a deep breath and headed toward Refuge City Hall.
As Chloe stepped toward the building, butterflies beat their wings in her stomach. Much of her hope rested on the people waiting for her inside. If she did not get unanimous support, her dreams for a Refuge clinic could be dashed.
An hour later, Chloe slunk out of the building, glad Mary had come. Rarely did Chloe need to cry on her mom’s shoulders. It had been years, maybe even since her daddy died.
But the way that meeting went just now, she hoped Mary had a full cup of coffee and two listening ears for Chloe.
After failing to win over the city council one more time, Chloe now knew that divine intervention may be the only thing to convince those two stubborn people that her unconventional program was legit.
One look at Chloe, and Mary ordered coffee to go. They walked circles around the town “square” until Chloe spilled every detail of the meeting and her frustration.
“Don’t let disappointment get you down. With something this progressive, there will be setbacks. But these are roadblocks you can conquer. You’re an overcomer, Chloe.”
“With God’s help. I know.”
“So, chin up. We better go. You need to check on Midnight, and I should get home so I can rest before work tomorrow. Mandy’s office is horrendously busy on Fridays.”
“Parents bringing children in before the weekend?”
“Absolutely. And I don’t blame them. I don’t know why kids always decide to get sick on Saturdays.” Mary ruffled Chloe’s hair the way she did when Chloe was little. “Where is Midnight, by the way?”
“At the B&B. Brock offered to watch him for me so he doesn’t have to stay cooped up in my unit.”
“That’s nice, considering his animal allergies.”
“He said he’d be fine. He doesn’t react to most dogs.”
They arrived at Mary’s. Chloe hugged her goodbye. “You’re the best, Mom,” Chloe said, and she meant it. She was so grateful she had a mom who cared. Had a mom, period. She thought of Chance and experienced empathy’s ache. Chloe hugged her mom again. A tad tighter and a little longer this time.
“’Night, Chloe. Sweet dreams. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Sweet dreams.
Why did those two words evoke images of a certain shy, strapping modern-day Samaritan?
And the biggest question of all: Could it be possible that dating Chance wouldn’t mean giving up her dreams?
But the way Chance acted last night, maybe he’d changed his mind about wanting to see her. Chloe wracked her brain to figure out why he’d been so silent. Was he displeased with her over something?
Mary’s words drifted back into Chloe’s mind: Don’t automatically assume that people are mad at you just because they’re silent.
Even though Chloe now knew the route home by heart, she turned on her GPS just to hear a humanlike voice.
“Destination, Refuge B&B. Twelve-point-five miles.”
Chloe navigated the roads that were becoming home to her. Even the gorgeous woodsy scenery didn’t relieve her of the niggling question: Was Chance mad at her?
“You’ve made a wrong turn. Recalculating route. Go back two blocks and turn south on Haven Str—”
Chloe reprogrammed the GPS to take the scenic route rather than the fastest.
Maybe that’s what she needed to do in the course of life too. Chloe eyed her silent phone. He hadn’t called today. Don’t auto-assume.
Just then, her phone rang. Finally!
Then she saw Brock’s number, and disappointment dogged her. She forced it from her voice as she answered, “Hey, how’s Midnight?”
“Great.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“Chance is here. How far out are you? Not that I’m in a hurry. He’s anxious to see you. He’s hanging out, helping me keep your spoiled canine assistant entertained.”
Chance came to see her? Her pulse fluttered like those butterflies in her stomach had earlier. “On my way. Ten miles maybe.”
“Good. I’ll detain him.”
“Thanks, Brock.” The clandestine call disconnected, which probably meant Chance had walked back into the room.
Thrill roller-coastered through her that Chance had come to see her. It was becoming harder to fight off the part of her that wished things could work between them. What if she gave herself over to it? Would Chance treat her dreams like Dad had Mom’s?
Or was Chance different? Was he what he claimed? Maybe it was time to take a Chance.
“Recalculating route. Detour imminent.”
Chapter Twelve
“Bet she took a different route,” Brock said to Chance and tossed a Frisbee to Midnight. “You know there are mega-roadwork delays in Refuge these days.”
Midnight retrieved the whirling disc and deposited it at Chance’s feet. He picked it up. “That’s because the mayor’s looking to retire.” Chance tossed the Frisbee across the B&B’s grassy yard. “You know, he’s giving Chloe a tough time.” Midnight went after it, then set it at Brock’s feet.
He flung it for the dog again and passed Chance on his way to the steps. “Whew, it’s hot. Time for a water break.”
Chance removed his gaze from his watch. “What time did she say she’d be back?”
Brock grinned and opened the cooler on the B&B’s white vinyl wraparound porch. “Anxious to see her?”
Chance’s ears warmed. “A little.”
“She said around now.” He handed Chance bottled water.
Chance swigged. “How late is she?”
Brock swallowed and laughed. “About thirty minutes.” He knelt and scratched Midnight behind the ears. “But that’s okay, huh, buddy? We’re having fun romping in the yard.”
The dog panted his delight. Really panted.
“He’s hot too. I�
�ll get him some water.” Chance swiped sweat from his brow and walked toward the water hose. He looked around for a bowl and then cupped his palms.
“You’re planning to let the dog lick water out of your hands?” Brock’s face distorted.
Chance shrugged. “Why not?”
“Dude, dog slobber. That’s pretty gross.”
Brock had a point. Chance rose. “Fine, I’ll go get one of your bowls then.” He smirked.
Brock pulled a worse face. “I’d rather he use your hands.” A rumble at the end of the road sounded. Gravel dust kicked up behind Chloe’s car coming up Pena’s Landing.
Brock hurdled the rail. “Never mind. I’ll get a bowl. You greet your girlfriend.” He whistled. “Midnight, come.”
The dog jumped the rail as Brock had and followed in tail-wagging frenzy toward his unit.
Chance twisted the empty bottle into a bow tie and tossed it at Brock’s head. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Smirking, Brock caught the bottle. “Right.”
“Not that I wouldn’t want her to be, but she has problems committing. In fact, her problems have problems.” He laughed ruefully.
Brock paused at his door and looked at Chance, then looked at Chloe as she pulled in. Brock turned back to Chance and leveled his buddy with a headstrong look that Chance only saw on Brock’s face in hostile combat situations during tense pilot rescues. “There’s not a problem alive so insurmountable that the two of you can’t get over it to be together. Besides, you have the Big Man upstairs on your side.”
Words eluded Chance as Brock’s passionately spoken words marched through his mind. It was the first time Chance could ever remember Brock referring to God. Joy welled up and then doubled when Chloe stepped out of her car…and rushed at him.
“Whoa!” He opened his arms in time to catch her on impact. “Wow, it’s not my birthday. What’s this hug all a—”
Before he could finish, Chloe effectively and affectionately cut him off with a firm kiss on his lips, a kiss that sent his pulse skyrocketing and dismantled all thought processes.
He tightened his arms around her, then lowered her feet to earth. Chance grinned and peered down at her. “What’s going on, Chloe?”
“I’ll watch the dog,” Brock said, grinning. Which meant he’d witnessed the missile hug and high-caliber kiss.
Brock called Midnight back inside and closed the door.
“Let’s go for a walk.” Chloe tugged him toward the woodsy hiking trails behind the B&B.
“Hold on.” Chance went to the cooler and grabbed two bottles of water. “I want this walk to last as long as possible.” He grinned. “Especially if it contains any more spontaneous mow-you-over hugs and sweet, mind-blowing kisses.”
Chloe blushed but reached down and grabbed the entire twelve-bottle cooler.
He eyed it and his brows rose.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I have a lot to say.”
Chance laughed out loud and took the cooler.
She slugged his arm. “More than usual, I mean. This could take a while.”
“This way,” Chance said after a solid half hour of hiking at such a fast clip that talking had been impossible. “I want you to see the waterfall.”
Chloe nodded and tried to steady her breathing. Chance slowed for her benefit, but he was hardly winded, proving Chloe hadn’t been kidding when she said she didn’t exercise. He hated to push her to the point of exertion, but he was anxious to hear what she had to say. He slowed his pace considerably.
“Thanks. You’re in amazing shape,” she gasped out in a wheeze. “I need to start doing aerobics.”
He chuckled.
“I didn’t really realize just how outstanding an athlete you are.”
“Try combat athlete. You learn to run fast with bullets zinging over your head.”
“I’m sure.” She paused and gasped as the entrancing waterfall came into view.
He grinned, enjoying watching her drink in the beauty as rushing water wove like long locks of liquid hair down the face of a gorgeous rockscape. “I figured you’d like it.”
She went for the first dry rock she found and dropped down on it. “You may have to carry me down. I’m serious.”
“Sorry. Guess I was going a little fast, huh?”
“Uh, a little?” She guzzled half a water bottle. “You practically sprinted here up all those steep inclines.”
“You did a good job of keeping up.” He sat beside her. “So what’s on your mind, Chloe?”
She pulled her legs onto the huge rock and hugged her knees. “I need to know if you were mad at me yesterday.”
He laughed. “Mad at you? For what?” He shifted his torso to face her more.
“Never mind. You just answered my question.” She recapped her water.
He lifted one foot to the rock. “What gave you the impression I might be mad at you?”
“My dad.”
“Your dad?”
“Yes.” She shoved her hands through her bangs. “I need to talk about him.”
“Okay. Shoot.” He rested an elbow on his knee.
“I mean, I need to talk about a lot of stuff. But to start with, I need to vent about my dad and how he was and why I am how I am, so I can be sure you still want to try to put up with me.”
Chance blinked a few times while all that registered. Then he lowered his water and scooted close. “Put up with you?” He brushed a hand along her disheveled bangs, tucking them behind her ear. “Is that how you think I see this?”
Her face dipped. “That’s how I would if I were you.”
He lifted her chin. “Chloe, you have n-no idea how I feel about you. Do you?”
Her eyes widened as he set his water down and brought his other hand up to cup her face. He bent and placed the world’s most tender kiss on her lips. One that whispered of all the emotion his words were hard-pressed to express.
At first she resisted, but soon her mouth became as pliable as Ivan’s clay beneath his formerly nimble fingers. Chance reluctantly pulled away before things got too heated and cut off this important conversation and rested his forehead on hers.
“Chloe, somehow, somewhere, my heart forgot.”
“Forgot what?” She brought her hands up to cover his, still cupping the sides of her face, still forehead to forehead. Then he tilted her face so they were eye to eye. “Somewhere along the way my heart forgot to remember that we’re only supposed to be friends.”
Chloe stood abruptly and paced. Her arms flailed like Celia’s when she got on a roll. “This, this, this just wasn’t in my plans.”
Laughing, he tugged her back down on the rock beside him.
“I want to date you, Chloe. I want us to be a couple, more than just friends. I want us to see where God leads us.”
Hopefully, He’d lead them to be together. Forever.
He looked at Chloe that moment and knew. No question. He wanted her to be the one.
The big question was whether she’d be the best one. Chloe didn’t want children until she was older.
Chloe compressed her mouth and tried to figure the best way to explain her feelings to Chance. She never had a problem being direct but she didn’t want to dishonor Dad, even in his death.
She caught Chance staring at her with the most tender, wonder-filled expression, so riveting it yanked her mind away from what she was about to say.
“Tell me about your dad, Chloe.”
She hugged her knees. “He was a pastor who put his flock before his family. He could never see that we were severely lacking attention because of his outrageous devotion to his job.”
Chance nodded at her to continue.
“That was his identity. He spent so much time with the church and so little time with his family that we all suffered.”
“And he died never owning up to it?”
“Yes. What bothers me almost the most is that not one of those parishioners saw how neglected we were. They constantly called, constantly came by
, needing this or that from him. Taking all of his time. When he died, so did the church.”
“That’s not right. But you know that. Is that why you have a hard time plugging into a church?”
“Absolutely. I trust God. It’s people who are iffy.” She laughed, then grew serious. “I know it’s not funny.”
“If it makes you feel better, the church I go to, Refuge Community, is set up differently. It doesn’t revolve around one man. It delegates tasks to group leaders and does everything in its power to preserve pastors’ family lives and nourish their marriages.”
She took that in a moment. “Mom desperately wanted a greenhouse. It could have brought in much-needed money because he gave financially back to the church to the point Mom couldn’t buy me school clothes or supplies. Because of his compulsive devotion to his job and all he demanded of my mom for his flock’s sake, she couldn’t put the necessary time and money into the greenhouse. See why I am concerned about you and me?”
“Chloe, honestly, I don’t see what this has to do with me.”
“There will always be someone who needs you more than me. People trapped in disaster. Pilots in need of rescue. And you can’t tell your team you’re not going. Am I right?”
“Right. But we only have maybe five real out-of-country rescues per year. The rest are training ops.”
“Or natural disasters, all of which are unforeseen.” She stretched her legs.
“I won’t be gone constantly.”
“You don’t know that. Besides, you have the heart of a pastor. I see evidence of it everywhere. I’m sorry but I can’t live with that kind of loneliness, and I can’t put my children through it. I don’t want my kids to need a dad who is not able or willing to be there.”
“Chloe, I’m more than willing and able. Only on rare occasions I won’t be. And PJs retire early.”
“That’s the same thing my dad said. He was there all right, but always for others and never for us.” She pulled her legs up again and clutched her knees to her chest.
“I want to reach out to youth. It’s important to me, yes, but I would never let it come before my family.”
“Right. That’s what most ministers think going into it. Then before they know it, they’re emotionally divorced from their wives and children. I even ran away once. Mostly to see if he loved me enough to come after me.”