by Angela Ruth
Emily decided not to let him off so easily. Grabbing his free hand, she pulled him toward the stump. His skin felt warm and rough, hinting at the strength it must have taken to split the logs he’d been carrying. His grip was light, but protective at the same time, making Emily think he was hesitant to overdo another rescue. Reluctantly she let go, wishing he would want to continue touching her as much as she wanted him to. Wishing he would cradle her cheek in his palm or run his fingertips along her arms. Her toes tingled at the thought.
“Okay.” She stepped up onto the tree stump so her eyes were level with his chin. “Second page.”
Tracen looked down at her a moment before lifting the script. “Who am I? Where do I read?”
Emily leaned forward. “Right there.” Tracen’s breath lifted a curl from her forehead. He was so close. “Right, um…” The warmth spread through her face and down her spine. “It’s, uh, Jack’s character. I think…” How could she talk when her senses kept her so distracted?
Tracen snapped to attention. “Got it.”
Emily straightened, as well. “I’m ready.” Yeah, right.
Tracen’s eyes focused on the paper. “Where’s your fiancé?” His voice sounded stiff as he read the line.
Emily made sure she spoke naturally. “He’s patching the raft.”
Tracen took time to follow the written dialogue. “How are you?” he finally asked.
“I’m scared,” Emily answered. “Do you get scared?”
“I’m scared right now.” Tracen plodded along.
Emily gave a disbelieving laugh. It must have sounded real, because Tracen looked up to gauge her expression. “What are you scared of?” she asked.
Tracen looked back down. “I’m scared”—he paused as if reading to himself—“that I’m falling for you.”
Tracen’s words startled her. She hadn’t thought this far ahead when she requested he read the script, though he probably thought she did. Her next line popped out. “What?”
Tracen glanced up, then back down. “I’ve been trying to hide it—especially from myself. But I’ve had some extra time to think lately. And now I’m thinking that maybe we’re here for a reason.”
This was just how Emily had imagined it. His hazel eyes with the golden glimmer met hers.
“You and me?” she asked, heart in her throat.
Tracen looked back down at the script. “I know. It doesn’t make sense. But can you deny that you feel something for me?”
She couldn’t deny it. There was something there. But this is where she flailed her arms and gave excuses. “We’re friends. That’s all. You’ve been my closest friend lately. And with all that’s gotten our adrenaline pumping, it’s natural for feelings to arise. It’s just a ridiculous attraction.”
Tracen’s head lifted. Apparently he was prepared with his next line. “So you are attracted to me,” he stated, tone deep.
Goodness, she was attracted to his voice, as well as everything else. She found it hard to breathe. “Yes.”
Tracen’s eyes searched hers, as if looking for the truth. Jack would do the very same thing, only he would be acting. Tracen’s gaze wandered down to her lips. They suddenly felt dry, so Emily licked them. Jack would kiss her here. Had Tracen read that far ahead? Was he going to kiss her because it was in the script? Or was he feeling what she felt?
Tracen blinked and bowed his head to return to the script. So he hadn’t read ahead to the kissing part. He’d simply felt the connection between them—as if they were Lady and the Tramp sharing a strand of spaghetti.
Oh no! When he looked back at the script, he’d discover that she blew her line. In the movie her character would lie and respond that “no,” she wasn’t attracted to Jack. Emily knew the line. What had she been thinking? It was probably obvious to Tracen that she was attracted to him, but she didn’t need to be so brash about announcing it.
Hopping down from the stump, she tugged the script out of Tracen’s hand. “Thanks!” She made herself sound chipper.
Tracen rocked back on his heels. “Is the scene over?”
A little laugh spilled out of Emily. A nervous laugh that she hoped sounded light. “No.” She took a step backward, feeling the air around her grow colder as the distance expanded between them. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to rehearse the kissing scene.” Another giggle. Okay, she needed to go for a mature, teasing tone, not schoolgirl giddy. “Since I’m too short for you and all.”
Chapter Nine
Bruce’s loud cursing from the hotel room next door woke Emily early the next morning. Apparently the director was so used to California sunshine that he hadn’t been watching the weather forecast. Beyond his ranting, the dull tap-dancing of a summer drizzle could barely be heard.
At first Emily curled up tighter under the warm covers, planning to sleep the day away, but the caress of rain down the windowpane reminded her of the Bible study she had been wanting to do on the subject of water. She could use some extra time off to catch up with God. And being that she was so close to “home,” she should spend another day with her mom, as well.
Emily threw on her favorite yoga pants, grabbed her Bible and journal, and headed to The Point to study in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot tea. She curled into the plush microfiber sofa, wrapped her hands around the steaming mug, and watched the gray world grow soggier through the glass doors. She’d always hated the rain, but this morning it brought needed relief from filming. She couldn’t help wondering what Tracen was doing and if he enjoyed rain. He probably did, being the nature boy that he was. The thought brought a smile to her lips. Flipping her Bible open to the concordance, she decided to begin her study with verses on “rain.”
The first rain came with the flood. It purified the earth. The second mention of rain came when Elijah prophesied a drought. The lack of rain was a punishment. But then in the book of Matthew, when Jesus spoke about loving your enemy, He used rain as an example: “God causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends the rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” The whole idea boiled down to the fact that God was in control. Emily grabbed her journal.
Sorry it’s been so long, God. How are you? Oh yeah, you’re awesome. I knew that. I’m doing pretty well. Just exhausted. Not physically. It’s more emotional. You know why. Thank you for your rain. I can really use the rest.
Emily paused and chewed on the tip of her pen. God knew why she was exhausted. He knew more about Tracen than she did. And He was in control. There was nobody better for her to talk to about the rafting guide.
Okay, here’s the deal. I can’t stop thinking about Tracen. I’m not sure why. I’m usually so focused and independent. But…
Emily grinned at her notebook. She wasn’t seeing the college-ruled lines. Memories of every single conversation she’d had with Tracen paraded through her mind.
He makes me laugh. He’s so strong, and I don’t just mean physically, though you did a fantastic job when you created him, God. Tracen uses his strength for good. He gives. He saves. (Wasn’t that funny when he had to rescue Jack?) He’s loyal and steady. And I’m pretty sure he’s one of your friends too.
Emily sighed and sank back into the couch cushions. She’d always thought it was silly when girls got all dreamy like this over members of the opposite sex. But there was something different about Tracen. Something that drew her to him.
If God was in control, then He’d planned for her to meet Tracen, right? Or was this infatuation her own creation? She sat back up and propped her notebook on her knees.
A little help here, please. What do you want me to do? Is there a future for me in Sun Valley? Am I supposed to get to know Tracen better? He’s a little hesitant for some reason, though oh my goodness, he looks at me like there’s nobody else around. Give me some sign, if this is your will.
Tracen pulled the baseball cap lower over his forehead before rushing through the rain from his truck into The Point. He had to put in an order for babyback ribs to
be ready when his brother came home from Iraq. And then he needed to spend the day cleaning his house. If his mom found so much as a hand towel out of place, she’d spend her visit reorganizing his linen closet rather than celebrating Sam’s return from overseas.
Stepping into the dark entryway, Tracen wiped icy water droplets off his jacket. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly ground coffee kept him from being completely thorough in his attempt to dry off. He strode through the lobby, knowing he had permission to seat himself, since Gigi would probably be working double duty as hostess and waitress. There weren’t many customers, however. Only one woman occupied the lobby. Tracen glanced her way, and his steps slowed down.
Emily sat curled by the fire with a book on her lap and a mug in her hand. She looked so tiny and content, like a little girl on her daddy’s lap.
The urge to join her tugged at Tracen, but he continued on his mission, even when she smiled sweetly at whatever it was she was reading. Then she scribbled into a notebook. Maybe she was working on memorizing her lines for the next day. Again, Tracen considered joining her. He’d helped her with her lines the day before. Yeah, that had ended well. He’d almost kissed her.
Tracen took a seat at the bar facing the side wall. Scratching his face, he was able to peek over his hand at where Emily was sitting without looking too conspicuous.
“Take a picture. It will last longer.” Honey rattled a shiny white mug against its saucer as she set it on the bar in front of him.
Tracen averted his eyes and scratched up closer to his temple so he couldn’t see Emily anymore. “What?”
Honey shot him a disapproving glare.
Tracen focused on his coffee. It took a moment before he realized he’d been served by Honey. “Why are you serving coffee?”
“Gigi’s sick.” Honey handed him a long, sticky, plastic menu.
Tracen bowed his head as if reading about the steak and eggs, but out of the corner of his eyes he checked to see if Emily was still reading. Maybe she would come over and join him for breakfast.
He heard Honey sigh. “Did you know she was going to be here this morning?” she asked.
Tracen looked up with wide eyes, planning to pretend confusion, but Honey’s expression said she saw right through him. “No,” he admitted, letting the muscles on his face relax. “I thought she’d be sleeping in.”
Honey rubbed at the counter with a rag. “Think about her a lot, do you?”
“I’m trying not to.” Tracen shifted in his seat. “Though I am curious as to what she’s reading this early in the morning.”
“The Bible.”
Tracen felt his eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“Yup.” Honey placed one hand on her hip. “I took over her tea. We talked about it.”
“Hmm.” Tracen spun his stool so he was now directly facing Emily—not exactly subtle.
Honey tapped the pads of her fingers on the scarred wood countertop. “Did you want to order?”
Tracen nodded distractedly. “I need some ribs for the family reunion.” He stood. “But I’ll phone the order in later.”
A stinging snap of Honey’s towel to Tracen’s arm drew his attention back. “Hey!” She knew he fought dirty and that she better not start anything.
But Honey had already started her retreat into the kitchen as if afraid he’d Frisbee his saucer at her. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”
Tracen rubbed the growing welt on his arm. She sure was feisty this morning. “I’ve ordered ribs before, Honey.”
Honey pulled two plates of biscuits and gravy out from under the warming lamp as the cook rang the bell. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Tracen, and you know it.” She motioned with her head toward Emily before her swinging hips carried her away.
Tracen grunted. “I know what I’m doing.” But did he? “I’m only going to talk to her about the Bible—like you did.”
Honey’s mouth drew into a grim line as she shot him one last glance before turning on her charm for the young family seated by the window. The couple and their toddler were probably rained out from their campsite. Sun Valley was a tourist town. Nobody ever stayed. Not even for love. Tracen knew that fact all too well.
He must have stood there longer than he realized, contemplating the wisdom of joining Emily, because Honey returned and handed him a pot of hot water. “Make yourself useful, Tracen. Go refill her tea. Then at least she won’t know you’re approaching her out of interest.”
Tracen looked down at the half-empty pot. It was an excuse. “Thanks, Honey.” She probably understood his risk better than anyone. After all, she’d also loved and lost before.
Emily was completely absorbed in her notebook as Tracen strode over. She looked so cute in her concentration that he hated to disturb her. He cleared his throat. “Are you ready for a refill?”
Emily glanced up for a second. “Oh yes, thank—” She did a double take. This time her eyes grew wider—if possible. “Oh, thank you. I didn’t know you work here too.” She slapped her notebook closed.
Tracen leaned over the coffee table to refill her mug, the hot steam collecting on his skin as he poured her tea. “I have my office here for the rafting company, so yes, I do work here, but normally I don’t wait tables. I’m just helping out Honey because she’s busy this morning.” He motioned toward the breakfast bar, though he wished he hadn’t. Honey stood still, chewing on a fingernail and staring into space. Real busy.
Emily looked past him to Honey, then smiled with amusement. “Good thing you’re not too busy. Or I couldn’t ask you to join me.” She uncurled her legs and scooted to one side of the couch.
Why not? Despite Tracen’s efforts to not make himself too available, she obviously knew he was seeking her company. And she was good company. He squatted back onto the sofa, the pot of water still in his hands. “What are you reading?”
Emily turned her slim fuchsia Bible so he could see the cover. “A love letter.” Her answer was unexpected, but she probably had a lot of experience with love letters. Jor-El had written at least one that Tracen knew of. And that was before they’d even met this Wonder Woman.
Tracen played along. “A secret admirer?”
Emily waved a hand. “No secret. In fact, I bet you’ve got the same one.”
Tracen nodded, his eyes locking with Emily’s. It was like she knew him already. “I do. Though my letter isn’t pink.”
Emily laughed and relaxed back against the arm of the sofa. “I’m reading about rain. See, I’ve got this whole water theme going on in my life—rivers, lakes, and rain. I find that if I’m experiencing a particular event in my life, it makes it easier to relate to Bible characters who might have been going through the same thing.”
She had a fresh perspective for everything. “I like it.”
“And I bet you like the rain too.” She did know him.
“Even though it’s bad for business, I love it.” It was so soothing and peaceful. It washed away dirt and grime. Gave everything a fresh smell. Brought life.
Emily tucked a stray curl behind her ear and focused on him. “So what do you usually do on a day like today? Since you don’t have to work.”
“Actually, I usually do work on rainy days. It gives me a chance to play catch-up on the books and e-mails. All the stuff I hate about owning a business.” Tracen set the pot down. He was obviously going to be staying awhile.
“Usually?” She caught his keyword.
He gave a mysterious smile. “As in not today.”
Emily nodded, then helped him along. “Because today you’re…”
“Getting ready for my brother to return. The dummy signed up for Reserves during a war. He’s flying back from the Middle East this week.” Tracen sat up a little straighter. Being related to “the dummy” made him proud. “My whole family is coming out this weekend.”
Emily sat up with him. Her expression would have made one think it was her brother returning from overseas. She reached out a
nd squeezed Tracen’s shoulder. The touch was electric, but its shock was overlooked because of Emily’s excitement. She was being a friend. “Tracen, that’s wonderful. I bet your family was worried about his safety. Where are they coming from? Do you have other siblings?”
Tracen made himself comfortable and crossed one ankle over a knee. She wanted to know about his family. She just wanted to hang out. He could do this all day. His mom might end up straightening his linen closet after all.
“I’ve got four brothers. Sam is the baby. He’s going to be moving in with me for a while. The rest scattered after Mom and Dad sold the Christmas tree farm and moved to Florida.”
Emily pulled her legs up to sit on her knees facing sideways. She still wasn’t at eye level with him. “So you all grew up here?”
It had been good while it lasted. “Home sweet home.”
“A Christmas tree farm would be fun.”
Serena hadn’t thought so. He could have bought the farm from his parents if she had stayed to help. “Christmas Trees by the Lakes,” he mused. Now the property was a campsite for RV trailers.
“Oh, were you located up by the alpine lakes?”
“We were.” Thoughts of Serena should have pulled him away from the actress. Instead he stayed. Her enthusiasm over his lifestyle kept his anger from taking over. It was silly to think that she was any different from the woman who had hurt him so much, but couldn’t he just hang out with her until she confirmed his suspicions? What were they talking about? Oh yeah, the tree farm. “We were located between the lakes, but our last name is also Lake. I’m Tracen Lake.”
Emily’s energy subsided. Wonder shone through her eyes as if she’d been a kid at his Christmas tree farm. “Your last name is Lake?”
Isn’t that what he’d said? Why would she be acting like he was the movie star and she a starstruck fan? “Yes, my last name is—”
Oh! Emily had just told him that water was a theme in her life. But that was merely a coincidence. She surely wouldn’t see it as a sign from God or anything if his last name was Lake.