by Mary Manners
7
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” Carin grumbled as she helped Hailey move a landscape timber to the far side of the church playground. The earthy scent of mulch mixed with the crisp odor of pine needles that had fallen from bushes outside the playground fence. Maple leaves from trees in the side yard covered rich green grass in a blanket of gold and crimson. In the pasture beyond, rolled bales of hay dotted a horizon filled with smoke-hazed mountains. The air was mild and a slight breeze offset the heat of a warm early-October sun. “I have a stack of essays to grade and an evaluation first thing Monday morning.”
“The papers can wait, and you’ll do just fine on your evaluation. You’re a great teacher, Carin. You’ll earn a glowing review.” Hailey dropped her end of the timber onto a pile and crossed the playground to haul another. They’d need at least two-dozen pieces of the heavy wood to box in the area around the jungle gym that a few of the men had just finished repairing. Then a healthy layer of mulch would be added to cushion any falls kids might take from the equipment. “Besides, you love the outdoors, and it’s a beautiful day.”
“I suppose.”
“And”—Hailey winked and tilted her head toward the back doors of the church—”look who’s coming this way.”
Carin followed Hailey’s gaze…Jake.
Her heart did a little two-step as he tugged a ball cap low over his eyes while he crossed the yard. His T-shirt clung to a terrain of muscles across his chest, and long, powerful legs were clad in faded blue jeans torn at one knee. He seemed much taller than she remembered, since she was wearing tennis shoes instead of her usual spiky sandals. As he neared, she inhaled clean soap and the scent of something purely masculine.
“Hello, Hailey…Carin.” His gaze swept over her as he strode through the playground gate and pulled a pair of worn leather work gloves from the back pocket of his jeans. While he tugged them on, Carin remembered how she’d confused him for East Ridge Church’s caretaker. Looking at his dark, shaggy hair tucked beneath the Tennessee Titans baseball cap and his scuffed work boots, it was easy to see why. “You’re doing a great job whipping the playground into shape.”
“We’ve barely put a dent in things.” Carin smoothed wisps of hair that had escaped an elastic band she’d used to gather the curls into a tail. “There’s still so much to do.”
“All in good time.” Jake reached for a box of long, oversized nails. “Would you two like to help me pound stakes into these timbers so we can form the box and lay some mulch?”
“Ahh…Carin will.” Hailey backpedaled toward the fence as she ran a hand through spiky cinnamon hair. “I promised to help prepare lunch, and then I need to check on my kids in the nursery. Greg got called in to work at the fire hall last night, so I had to bring Noah and Zachary with me this morning. Anyway, I’ll be heading…into the kitchen now.”
“I see.” The gleam in Jake’s eyes said he understood her tactics all too well.
A school of jellyfish darted through Carin’s belly as a splotch of heat crept up her neck. “In that case, will you put on an extra pot of coffee?”
“Sure. Consider it done.”
As Hailey turned and scurried away, Carin’s gaze swept the play area. Where were all the other volunteers, anyway? The grounds seemed suddenly deserted since the men had finished their repairs of the equipment and gone inside to work in the children’s classrooms. Carin stood to brush dirt from the knees of her jeans. “Maybe I should help in the kitchen, too.”
“No need. Mrs. Doran is in there heading up the team. And she has plenty of help.”
“Well, I guess the work won’t get done on its own.” Carin forced down a sense of uneasiness and surveyed the pile of landscape timbers. The playground area would be much more aesthetic—not to mention much safer—as soon as they got the work finished. “Where’s the hammer?”
“Here.” Jake drew a large mallet from his tool belt. “How good is your aim?”
“That depends. How steady is your hold?”
Jake smirked. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“We’d better get started then.” Carin reached for a handful of spikes. “This looks like as good a place as any.”
Working together, they slipped the timbers into position. After a few poorly-aimed swings of the mallet, one that nearly crushed Jake’s thumb, Carin conceded that Jake would do a better job hammering, so she held the spikes in place while he took aim with the mallet.
“So,” Jake said between blows. “How’s the journal writing going?”
“Corey’s a natural.” Carin gnawed her bottom lip as she lined up the oversized nail with a pre-drilled hole. “I must admit, he has provided quite a nice little window into your world.”
“How so?” As Jake hammered, the box surrounding the play area took shape. He slipped another timber easily into place. “What do you mean?”
Carin laughed. “Well, I know your favorite candy is mini peanut butter cups, and you like to be early for everything, which drives Corey insane.” She held tight as the timber shook while Jake hammered. “And you like corny vintage horror movies and have read every book ever written by Max Lucado—twice over.”
“Corey wrote all that?”
“And more, but I can’t divulge everything—teacher-student privilege, you know.”
“Well, that’s hardly fair.” Jake sat back and wiped beads of sweat from his brow with the hem of his T-shirt. “You know all kinds of things about me now, but I don’t know anything about you—except for the green pens, of course.”
Carin shrugged. “What more is there to know?”
“Let’s see…” He rubbed the shadow of stubble across his chin. “How many years have you been teaching?”
“Six. I taught at a middle school in Nashville and then took a leave for two years while I helped out at my dad’s law firm before I moved here.” She’d helped her dad carry the workload when her mom had fallen ill…and then there had been Cameron to think about.
“Funny, you don’t look battle weary from all the hours of slashing you must have put in.”
She brushed hair from her brow. “If that was meant to be a compliment, you really need to work on your technique.”
“Point taken.”
Carin sat on the timber they’d just secured to catch her breath. Perspiration dampened the back of her neck, and she lifted her ponytail to fan herself with a free hand. “And just how many unsuspecting people have you duped into thinking you’re the church caretaker?”
“I never said—”
“No, but you implied…”
“OK, guilty as charged.” Jake pounded a nail as he spoke. “But it’s my turn to ask the questions, so hold that thought.”
“You’ve already met your quota of questions for the day.” She drew a long, deep breath, stood, and reached for another timber. Dirt billowed around them and her arms ached as Jake rushed over to take it from her and dump it into place as if it was a match stick.
“So, I only get one question?” Jake lined up a second timber before he motioned to her for a spike. “That’s pretty meager. I’d have to give you a D…if this was for a grade.”
“OK.” Giggles erupted as Carin swiped her soiled hands across the thighs of her jeans. “To be fair, I’ll grant you two.”
“Good.” He positioned a spike and Carin held it firmly while he poised the mallet. “Then my second is…will you go to dinner with me?”
“What?” She bobbled the spike and Jake missed his mark. The mallet hit the edge of the timber and bounced from his hand to tumble into the dirt. “That’s not…a valid question.”
“Not valid…” He retrieved the mallet, brushed a layer of mud from the head, and gazed at her with confusion and a bit of mischief in his eyes. “It’s a question, isn’t it?”
She hunched her shoulders, a restless storm sweeping in to chill her. “I can’t, Jake. I…shouldn’t.”
“Because you’re Corey’s teacher?”
“No.
”
“Because you’re seeing someone?”
“No. Definitely no.”
“Why, then? You don’t like Chinese? We can go to McDonald’s instead.”
A shaky laugh escaped but quickly turned to frustration. Carin blew wisps of hair from her eyes. How could she share with him? He was a pastor…most likely perfect in every way. Even with Corey, he’d held his temper when most parents would have thrown in the towel. He stood before a congregation every Sunday, and she was a woman who hadn’t stepped inside a church in nearly two years…except for last Sunday, and that didn’t really count. What would he think of her if he knew her faith hung by the thinnest thread? She dipped her head and turned from him, shading her eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t understand?” He stood and stretched the kinks from his back. His shoulders flexed beneath damp cotton fabric, revealing the definition of powerful muscles. “I’m a pastor, Carin. And, although this is a small church, believe me, I’ve heard it all.”
“I…” Suddenly her voice caught and she removed her work gloves to swipe a hand across her eyes as they pooled with tears. She’d hardly slept the night before. The phone calls from Phillip, coupled with memories of her mom and Cameron, plagued her.
“Are you crying?” Jake swung around to face her full-on, his expression startled.
“I…I’ve offended you.” She turned away, mortified, and rubbed the damp palms of her hands across her weary eyes. “I didn’t intend to. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s OK.” He peeled off his work gloves and took a bottle of water from the cooler propped near the fence. “Here, sit a minute and have something cold to drink.”
“No, really. I’m fine.” She reached for the spike that had toppled into the dirt when Jake missed his mark, and lined it up again. “Let’s just finish this. It’s nearly lunchtime.”
Carefully, Jake took the spike from her. “The work can wait. Sit in the shade.” He patted the landscape timber and pressed the cool bottle of water into her hands. “Talk to me.”
“Oh, this is embarrassing.” She shook her head, swiped her eyes once more, and uncapped the bottle to draw a sip of water. “Why would you want to go to dinner with someone who’s so…mixed up?”
“We’re all mixed up to some extent. You don’t think I’m on a wild ride raising Corey? My life’s filled with new adventures every day—some good, some not so good, and some just plain horrific.”
“Jake, be real about this. You’re a preacher and—”
His jaw clenched and his gaze pierced her. “I’m a man, too.”
The realization sent a shiver up Carin’s spine. She’d noticed…more than she ought to. She scooted across the timber, putting a bit of distance between them. “But I haven’t been to church in years.”
“You’re here today.”
“I didn’t want to come. Hailey dragged me here because, well, she says I’ve lost my…belief, and I need my batteries recharged.”
“Have you? Do you?”
Carin shrugged. “I guess. I mean…yes.”
“Well, no matter what you think you’ve lost, faith hasn’t lost you.” Jake tapped her shoulder gently. “You have Him, Carin. You’ll always have Him.”
“Him? Who do you mean?”
Jake pointed heavenward, toward the cloudless blue sky. “Him. He’ll never leave you, even if you get sidetracked and leave Him…for a while.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Trust. Faith. Hope. They’re very powerful.”
“I wish I could feel them.” Carin’s stomach churned, and she felt as if she was drifting aimlessly in a raging sea of doubt.
“You will. Trust me if you can’t trust anything else right now. I promise…I’ve been where you are.”
“You have?”
He reached for a second bottle of water and settled beside her in the shade of a maple tree that towered over the playground fence. The scent of him—strong and purely masculine—sent a tremor of longing through her. Carin was beginning to see him as a man, but would he see her as anything more than his brother’s teacher…or a grieving woman…if she let him in? “You sound shocked. Are you surprised to learn the pastor’s hit a few potholes in the road?”
“Maybe…yes.”
“I’m not perfect…so I’ve learned to lean on Him. You can lean on Him, too. Whatever’s riddling you with doubt, it’s going to be OK. Maybe not easy, but OK.”
“I…hope so.”
“I know so.” He drew a sip of water and leaned forward to murmur, “Carin, do you have a Bible?”
“No. I don’t…I haven’t…”
“We’ll have to remedy that.”
She could see in his gaze that the wheels were already turning.
“But for now, remember Deuteronomy 31:8, ‘The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.’”
“I like that.” She mulled over the words. His voice soothed like balm, and she relaxed a bit. “Thank you, Jake.” She wiped her eyes with a finger and drew a long, cleansing breath. “I feel so foolish for…this.”
“Don’t. Everyone gets down sometimes. Everyone doubts and flounders. It’s OK. It’s…human.”
“Jake!” Corey’s voice rang across the churchyard. “Lunch is ready.”
Jake ignored the call and leaned over to Carin. “Better now?”
“Yes…a little, I guess.” She trembled when his shoulder brushed hers.
He smiled. “A little is better than not at all, right?”
“Umm…uh-huh.”
“Jake!”
Jake groaned and shook his head. “We’ll be there in a minute,” he called back. He sighed and stood, turning back to offer Carin a hand. “We’d better go before he wakes the babies in the nursery. Hailey would not be happy about that.”
“Wait, Jake.” Carin squeezed his hand. “For the record, I do…like Chinese food very much.”
He squeezed back, grinning, and tugged her to her feet. “Friday night good for you, say six o’clock?”
“Perfect.”
“Jake!”
“Ugh! Remind me to buy a gag for the kid.” Jake tossed his work gloves beside the mallet and held onto Carin’s hand as they started toward the church. “Yes, a gag would be good.”
“I second that.” Carin was surprised to find her tears had turned to laughter. The touch of his hand in hers gave her a little thrill—different than any she’d felt before.
Jake laughed, too, and paused to tuck a curl behind her ear. “Let’s go see what Mrs. Doran has cooked up. I hope she baked some of her famous triple-chocolate, peanut butter fudge brownies. They’re the best.”
8
Carin felt pleased with the progress Corey was making at school. He was actually a huge help with the school newspaper, and the other students seemed to accept and respect him once she’d encouraged him to back off on his bossiness.
And she’d actually discovered him and Amy MacGregor laughing together as they edited a story about the upcoming book fair. Her intuition had paid off as far as the pair was concerned—Amy was coming out of her shell, and the chip on Corey’s shoulder had shrunk a size or two. No more toy mice in her desk or spitballs on the white board, either—that was certainly an added bonus.
“You’ve worked hard enough today,” Carin said as she watched the pair pore over the proof for the month’s edition of the paper, which would go to print in the morning. “Clean things up and head home. You have a vocabulary test tomorrow, remember?”
“How could we forget?” Corey scribbled a few notes on the proof with the signature orange pen she’d provided. “I’m grounded again—for destroying Jake’s cell phone. I didn’t see it on the kitchen counter when I threw the football. Who knew it would end up in the dishwater? It was a perfect spiral, too, a real gun. Coach McCrosky would’ve been proud.”
Carin stifled a grin as he mimed a sl
ow-motion replay of the throw. “A pass like that might have scored the winning touchdown in the NFL,” she agreed.
“Probably, but Jake didn’t appreciate the effort like an NFL coach would have, so I might as well hang around here and work on this stuff. If I go home now, Jake will just put me to work mucking out the church bathrooms or something disgusting like that. He’s pretty mad at me—again.”
“Well…I guess you can work just a little bit longer.” Carin gathered a stack of essays from her desk and tucked them into her tote. “Jake will be worried if you stay too much later, though.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But he’d probably be glad to get rid of me for a while, too. I try hard. Really I do, but I just can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”
“That’s not true.” Carin tossed a green pen into the tote then glanced up. “Corey, you don’t really think Jake wants rid of you, do you?”
“No, I guess not. And I don’t want him to worry, either.” He sighed and shook shaggy bangs from his eyes. “I’ll just stay a little bit longer. I promise.”
“My mom’s driving him home,” Amy added. “We found out we only live a few blocks from each other. Isn’t that cool?”
“Yes, very.” Carin nodded and flipped open a steno book to check notes she’d jotted earlier. “I’m going to head down to the office to gather my messages and then be right back. You can work until I return, and Mrs. Carlisle’s right next door if you need anything. Then it’s quitting time. We’ll finish the edits and go to print in the morning.”
“Thanks, Miss O’Malley.” Amy turned back to the computer screen.
“You’re welcome.”
Carin left the two with their heads bowed together, debating the correct spelling of a word. This was certainly a shift from Corey’s refusal to work with Amy just a few weeks ago.
“I’ll spell check it,” Amy’s voice drifted from the room, and Carin smiled to herself as she headed around the corner and toward the office. She met Hailey coming up the hall.
“Hey, you.” Hailey greeted her in a voice raspy from fall allergies. She carried a colorful arrangement of autumn blooms and baby’s breath in a delicate crystal vase tied with a silky sunshine-yellow bow. “How was your day?”