He eased back, his eyes shrouded and filled with kindness.
Esther closed her eyes again and harnessed her longing. Ian felt sorry for her. That explained everything. Ian, the gentle giant out to save the forlorn maiden. She wondered how Jemma had missed his charm.
“Unless we’re planning to wait out the storm, I suppose we should make a run for the car. Are you okay?”
She nodded, afraid to speak lest she give away the emotion he aroused in her. “I’m fine,” she said, hearing her voice sound breathy but steady. “Let me fix my face. Okay?”
“Sure,” he said, allowing her to slip from his arms.
She grabbed her bag and darted into the head. Before looking in the mirror, Esther splashed water on her face. When she inspected herself, she saw she’d been right. Her eyes were dark from her mascara, her hair tangled by the wind, but for a moment that didn’t matter. Remembrance of the pressure of Ian’s mouth against hers blocked out all other senses.
Her thoughts whirled, and she gripped the sink for support. What was she thinking? The whole thing was a game…a scheme to deceive her sister and Jeff. Instead, she’d fooled her own heart.
Chapter Eleven
Ian sat in the living room, studying Esther’s father. He’d been surprised, expecting an older man for some reason. He guessed it was the man’s old-fashioned philosophy.
Instead of a white-haired, stooped gentleman, Ian observed a man with graying hair, a straight back and a friendly twinkle in his eye. Though slightly paunchy, Uriah Downing looked in good physical condition.
“So tell me about this project you and my daughter are working on,” he said.
“You’d find it boring, Mr. Downing,” Ian said. An inviting aroma drifted in from the kitchen, and Ian felt his stomach gnaw with anticipation.
“Call me Uriah,” her father said, “and let me decide for myself what I find boring.”
His blunt response surprised Ian, and he covered his silent chuckle. Already Ian had seen a little of what Esther had said about him. Stubborn and decisive.
“I work for Bay Breeze Resort and—”
“What do you do there?”
“I’m the assistant manager,” Ian said. “About the—”
“How does a job like that pay?” Uriah asked.
“Pay? It’s a good living.” Ian watched the expression on his face and realized Uriah was not a man to settle for a general statement. Ian spelled out dollars and cents, wondering if they would ever veer back to his original question.
Letting his gaze drift, Ian took in the living-room decor. Homey and neat, much like Esther’s place. He noted a woman’s touch in the room. Probably Esther’s mother. A flowered print in the upholstery, a doily under the lamp. The house probably looked the same as it had the day she died.
“Sounds like you could take good care of a wife and family, then,” Uriah said.
Ian’s heart tripped over itself. Was he being interviewed as a prospective husband? “Yes, sir.”
“Then why aren’t you married?” The man leaned forward, his look direct and inquisitive.
His question unsettled Ian. Why wasn’t he married? How could he answer that in fifty words or less?
“Don’t tell me you’re divorced,” Uriah said, his back stiffening.
“No. No. I’m not divorced. I haven’t married yet because God hasn’t directed me to the right woman.”
Uriah leaned back while a faint smile touched his face. “So you are a Christian.”
“I am. Have been most of my life.” Curious, Ian looked at the man. Why would Uriah have questioned it? Ian had been to church with them earlier that day. He’d sung the hymns and said the prayers.
“Most of your life?” He seemed to think that over a moment. “But when were you saved?”
Ian wondered where Uriah kept his interrogation lights. If this weren’t a grilling, he didn’t know what was. “I was saved when Jesus died on the cross.” He watched Uriah’s eyes narrow. “But if you mean when did I make my faith public, I was a young teenager.”
Uriah’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Good.”
Ian let out a pent-up breath and relaxed his shoulders.
“You know,” Uriah said, “sometimes young men hang around my daughters claiming to be Christians, but I can usually spot the ones who aren’t.”
Tension traveled up Ian’s back. He longed to ask Uriah if he’d passed his scrutinizing or not, but common sense urged him to keep quiet.
“I’d say you’re an honest Christian.”
“Thank you,” Ian said, wishing now they could get back to Bay Breeze. That topic, boring or not, seemed safer.
“Time to eat,” Esther called from the doorway.
Ian wanted to leap up and kiss her for the reprieve. He held himself back, waiting for Uriah to make the first move. He didn’t want to look overenthusiastic.
Esther’s father braced himself on the armrest and pushed himself up. “Bad knees,” he said to Ian. “I had to retire early. Couldn’t work any longer.”
“What did you do?” Ian asked, rising and following him toward the mouthwatering aroma.
“Plumber. Took care of people’s drains.” He glanced at Ian over his shoulder. “You can learn a lot about people that way.”
Looking down pipes? Ian wondered what Uriah could learn about him if he started checking out his drains? “That’s interesting.”
“Daddy,” Esther said, rolling her eyes. She gestured toward a chair before heading through another doorway.
Ian sat where she’d indicated, at the end of the oblong table across from her father. Noticing Uriah’s chair had arms, Ian wondered if it was to help him stand when they’d finished the meal or perhaps to allow him to feel more in charge…like at a board meeting. Ian cringed at his snide thought.
Esther returned, carrying a large platter of pot roast circled by oven-browned potatoes and carrots. The fragrance filled the room while Ian’s hunger grew. A tossed salad and rolls were also on the table for them. Ian hadn’t had a home-cooked meal this elegant in years.
Esther sat on the side between them and extended her hands in both directions.
Ian took her hand and, realizing they were about to say the blessing, bowed his head.
Uriah cleared his throat and began. “Heavenly Father, we want to praise You and thank You for all You give us each day. We thank You for this wonderful meal cooked by my eldest daughter, a young woman who needs Your blessings, Lord. We just want You to know that her life needs to be fulfilled.”
Esther’s hand tensed in his, and Ian peeked with one eye, wanting to see her face. Her eyes were squeezed closed and he could almost hear the amen she wanted to assert.
“And we give You thanks for company. A good Christian man who’s been blessed with a steady job and a good income. Lord, just give him what he needs to make him feel complete.”
Ian knew what Uriah had in mind, and if Ian had anything to do with it, he would make Uriah a very happy man. He pushed away his grin.
“In Jesus’ precious name we pray. Amen.”
At Uriah’s amen, Ian and Esther echoed their own. Ian opened his eyes and watched a pink flush climb up Esther’s neck. She offered him the roast without looking into his eyes. Ian filled his plate and passed the dish to her father.
“Now, let’s get back to that project,” Uriah said, dipping a roll into his gravy.
Ian thought Uriah had long forgotten Bay Breeze, but he used the topic to include Esther in the conversation. They took turns. While one chewed, the other told her father about the research. Ian felt certain Esther had already told him everything, but he proved to be a determined man.
Into a second helping, Uriah settled back against his chair and eyed Ian. “Then you must know Jeff Langley.”
“Yes, I do.”
Uriah propped an elbow on the table and leaned forward. “What do you think of him?”
Ian’s meal did a double axel, followed by a triple lutz. Esther’s father knew h
ow to put a man on the spot.
“Daddy, please don’t ask—”
“Let the man answer, Esther.”
Ian’s moment of respite sank to his toes. “He’s on time and knows his job.” That seemed safe and truthful.
“Do you think he’s a Christian?” Uriah asked.
This answer was easy. “We’ve never talked about our faith, so I don’t know.”
“You’ve never witnessed to him?” His eyebrows arched upward.
Wanting to kick himself, Ian searched for an appropriate answer. “Our paths don’t cross too often, and when they do, we talk about the resort needs. He’s honest and helpful, though. I’d suspect he’s a believer.”
Uriah nodded. “Me, too.” He pursed his lips as he lifted his knife, slivered off a hunk of roast and speared it. “But I think he needs to grow up.” He used his fork as a pointer.
“Don’t overeat, Daddy. I have dessert,” Esther said.
Ian wondered if the dessert would lodge in his throat like the excellent dinner that he’d hoped to enjoy.
Uriah ignored her and continued to aim the fork at Ian. “He wants to marry my daughter Rachel.”
Ian pondered if he should admit he knew, or not respond. He glanced at Esther and sensed he should be truthful. “Yes. Esther told me.”
“What do you think about that, Ian?” Uriah’s casual look didn’t match the intrigue reflected in his eyes.
“I’m not sure I understand your question, Uriah. Rachel and Jeff are a young couple who’ve fallen in love. So I guess the natural desire would be to get married.”
“But you said the key word. Young.”
“They’re voting age,” Ian said, then wished he hadn’t. What did voting have to do with marriage? He waited for Uriah to ask the same question.
“That doesn’t mean he has the wisdom to vote.” Uriah shoveled in a mouthful of potatoes.
Ian had lost his appetite long ago.
Esther’s shoulders rose, and she came to his rescue, repeating what Ian already knew. “My dad believes that I should marry before my sister, Ian. That’s what bothers him.”
“Oh.” He looked from Esther to Uriah, wondering what to say.
“If the girls’ mother was here,” Uriah said, “she and I could talk about this. Marge was tuned in to the Lord. She had the wisdom of Solomon…but she’s gone. Now I’m left trying to be a wise father.” He shook his head. “The Lord could have granted me a few more years with Marge, but He must have needed her in heaven.”
“You’ve been a wonderful father,” Esther said, patting his hand. “We just have a different belief than you do about that issue, Dad. That’s all.” She glanced at Ian. “But don’t ask Ian to get involved in our difference of opinion. You’re making both of us uncomfortable.”
“Really?” A frown crossed Uriah’s features. “I thought we were just sharing beliefs.” He studied Ian with a hopeful look.
“If you want my opinion,” Ian said, hoping he could help and not hinder the situation, “I’m a New Testament man myself. I think when the Lord directs a man and woman to fall in love and they want to marry, who am I to interfere in the Lord’s doing?”
Uriah pinched his lips together and stared at the tablecloth.
Ian’s heart rose to his throat, and he gave Esther a quick look.
She shrugged, apparently as puzzled as he was about how her father would react.
Finally Uriah looked at them. “That’s something to pray about, Ian.”
Esther breathed a deep sigh, grateful to Ian for his comment. Her dad had taken it well, and maybe hearing it from someone else—especially another man—he’d give it some thought “Who’d like dessert?” she asked, changing the subject. She rose and began stacking the dishes.
“She makes good pie,” Uriah said, giving Ian a wink.
“I’ll have a piece,” Ian said.
“Make that two…and coffee.” Uriah held up two fingers.
Esther grabbed the platter and salad, then headed for the kitchen. Standing alone, she drew in a calming breath. She felt terrible having put Ian through this, but now he’d met her father and perhaps would better understand. Her dad had done the best he could. Esther loved him and honored him, even though it was difficult. That’s all that was important.
She pushed the button on the coffeemaker before cutting the pie. She’d baked the pie and brought it to her father’s last night after the sailing fiasco. It had been her way of distracting herself, rather than sitting home and wondering what to do.
Ian’s unexpected kiss had kept her awake all night. The memory of his arms wrapped around her, his tender lips on hers sent Esther’s mind heading into places it shouldn’t go.
Ian had been wonderful. Helpful on the project and a trouper at trying to divert Rachel’s attention, but the whole thing had been based on deception. No matter how she looked at it.
During the worship service that morning, she’d been stunned by the guilt that raked over her. In her attempt to get Rachel off her back, she’d let her sister believe that she and Ian were a couple. That they were falling in love and that marriage was a possibility. Utter deceit. And deceit was a sin.
She needed the courage to tell Rachel the truth and to drop the game she and Ian were playing. Or she could take the coward’s way out by asking God’s forgiveness and telling Ian the scam had ended. At least Rachel would give up on her hopeless dreams.
As the thought rifled through her, loneliness raced along her spine and weighed upon her heart. She’d miss Ian more than she could say. He’d brought adventure to her life and filled her quiet nights with good talk and camaraderie. Even the charade, as sinful as it was, had given her pleasure—holding his hand, feeling safe in his arms and enjoying the touch of his lips. She longed for it all to be real.
Guaranteed, they’d formed a true friendship, bonded by mutual respect and faith. Even though he’d never be hers for real, she liked him.
The gurgle of the coffeemaker pulled her back to her task. Esther placed the plates, cups and pot on a large tray and headed for the dining room.
Soft laughter met her ears when she came through the doorway, and she eyed both men, realizing they were deep in conversation. When she set the tray on the table, Ian looked up and smiled.
“Your dad was telling me some plumbing tales. Pretty funny stuff.”
“Not all of it’s funny,” Uriah said, “but we can all use a good laugh now and again.”
“Sure can,” Ian said, accepting the plate she offered. “Looks good, Esther.” He eyed the pie as if trying to see what it was.
“Elderberry,” she said. “Dad’s favorite.” She handed her father a piece, then hesitated. “I saw some ice cream in the freezer. Who’d like some?”
Two hands jutted into the air, and she retraced her steps, returning with the carton. With the coffee served, she sat down and picked up her fork.
“So what’s next on the research?” her father asked.
“Esther and I are going to White Lake next week. We want to visit a sailing excursion company.”
Esther’s stomach tightened. She’d forgotten. They’d be spending another full day together. Her emotions wavered like a swing in the wind. She loved being together and hated it at the same time.
“Good idea talking to the horse’s mouth,” her dad said, a twinkle in his eye. “Talk with someone who knows.”
Someone who knows. God knew everything. Esther concentrated on the pie while her mind raced for decisions. She needed to spend time with the Lord. She wanted to know her heart…and what her heavenly Father had planned for her.
Lifting her eyes, she watched her dad and Ian chatter together—the two most important men in her life.
Chapter Twelve
Ian looked through the window at the line of sailboats docked in the small marina, then back to the owner of White Lake Sailing Adventures. “You’ve been very helpful.” He glanced at Esther’s notepad filled with a multitude of information. “I think yo
u’ve answered just about all of our questions.”
“Would you like to take a closer look?” Wes Garrison asked. “I can tell you a little about the boats we’re using and which ones I’d recommend.”
“What do you think?” Ian asked, making sure Esther wanted to take the time.
She nodded, folding the notebook and slipping it into her pocket.
Garrison stepped to the door and opened it, motioning for them to follow.
Stepping into the sun, Ian inhaled the fresh lake air. Being on the water surrounded by sailboats gave him the urge to hurry back to Loving and sail his cutter. The season would draw to a close soon.
Out on the pier, Ian grasped Esther’s arm as they walked along the rough planks. If recommendations were to be made, he thought Esther would want to suggest the most useful and practical vessels for the resort. Looking at the boats and getting Garrison’s opinions seemed worth the time.
Their footsteps thudded on the boards, and looking down at the pier, Ian noticed Esther had worn practical shoes with rubber soles. He grinned, thinking of her expression the day he’d suggested they walk along the shore when she had worn dress shoes.
Garrison paused. “Now, here’s one I’d recommend. This is a forty-foot ketch,” he said, gesturing to one of the larger vessels. “It’s great for a full day on the lake. The cabin is roomy with a large dinette, a settee and a workable galley.”
“Looks like it could sleep about eight people,” Ian said.
“Right. It has two heads with showers. We added a bimini strong enough for sunbathing or for sitting. Even a place to pack the sails.”
“I’ve never heard of a hardtop bimini,” Ian said. “Aren’t they usually cloth?”
“This one’s specially made,” Garrison said.
“It’s a beauty.” Ian looked at it with longing, already dreaming of buying a bigger boat someday.
“It carries five hundred gallons of water and a thousand of fuel.”
Impressed, Ian nodded. If he had a sailboat this large he could spend a week or more exploring quaint ports and exotic islands.
“Look back here,” Garrison said, motioning them to the stern. “We added this four-foot swim platform and ladder. Easy access to water.”
Loving Hearts Page 11