Surrendered Hearts

by Carrie Turansky

  Bill glanced at his watch and then toward the stairs. “Hey, Wes, you ready?”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Bill crossed to the front door and turned back to look at her. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

  With an uneasy glance over her shoulder, she followed Bill outside. They’d hardly spoken since he’d returned from the Nature Center an hour ago. He obviously hadn’t liked the way she’d questioned him that morning about the animals on display.

  He opened the truck’s passenger door for her and waited for her to climb into the hot cab. Then he walked around and got in his side. As soon as he started the engine, he pushed the button to roll down both windows and flipped the air conditioner on high, never saying a word.

  Jenn fiddled with the handle of her purse and watched the house, waiting for her brother.

  The front door opened. Wes hustled down the steps and approached the truck. “Think I’ll drive over.” He grinned at them. “Maybe I can talk Lauren into letting me stay a little later.”

  Jenn nodded and reached for the door handle.

  Wes lifted his hand and took a step back. “Why don’t you ride with Bill? It’ll give you two a chance to talk.” He smiled at her and headed over to his own car.

  Bill drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure.” She stared out the front window. Being stuck in this hot truck with a man who obviously didn’t like her was not her idea of a good time, but what choice did she have?

  Bill backed out of the driveway and headed south on Shelton Road, his eyes focused straight ahead and his mouth set in a determined line.

  What was he thinking? Probably silently repeating every critical remark she’d made at the nature center.

  After two minutes of awkward silence, she glanced over at him. “I’m sorry for what I said about the stuffed animals.”

  He didn’t answer, but she saw the muscle in his jaw twitch.

  “It’s just that hunting seems heartless to me.”

  His blue-gray eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I got that.”

  When he didn’t say any more, she released an irritated huff. What was his problem? She’d made the first move and apologized. Why couldn’t he at least be civil? She crossed her arms and stared out the window again. Fine. If he didn’t want to talk, she could be quiet.

  A minute or so later, Bill cleared his throat. “Wes told me you’ve always liked animals.” His gentle tone surprised her.

  She glanced at him, trying to guess what had spurred his attitude shift. “I’ve had a lot of pets.”

  “Such as?”

  A smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t help it. She loved to talk about her animals. “Fish, of course, and I had a turtle. He got so big we had to let him go in the river. Then I had a frog, four mice, two rats, five rabbits, three parakeets, a batch of baby chicks, and two dogs.”

  He lifted his brows. “All at the same time?”

  She laughed. “No. Over the years, a few at a time.”

  “So which one was your favorite?”

  “My dog Beau.” Her throat tightened, and she could barely speak. “He was a beautiful golden retriever.”

  “And what was so special about him?”

  “He always greeted me at the door when I came home, wagging his tail and looking up at me like I was his favorite person in all the world.”

  “Sounds like a nice dog.”

  “He was more than that.” She swallowed, hoping she could make her voice sound normal. “When I was fifteen my parents were killed in a car accident.” She waited for his reaction, but his calm, steady expression didn’t change. “I guess you knew that. You were Wes’s roommate then, right?”

  He nodded. “It was hard on Wes. But it must have been really rough for you.”

  “I made it through.” She steeled her heart against those painful memories.

  “No, really. It must have been hard losing both your parents when you were so young.”

  She stiffened, not wanting to remember the pain or go there with him. “I learned to deal with it. I lived with my aunt and uncle, and as soon as I was eighteen I left and lived on my own. That’s when I got Beau.”

  Bill nodded slowly. “So losing him must bring up a lot of painful memories for you.”

  Hot tears pricked her eyes, and she looked away. Why did everyone want to play psychiatrist and force her to relive all the pain? What was the point? She had to be strong and focus on the future. That was the only way she’d made it though these last few years.

  Bill flipped on his blinker and turned into a long gravel drive. Large maple trees lined both sides creating a thick, green canopy overhead. “This is Long Meadow.” He nodded toward the house and then pointed to a barn on the right. “That’s Lauren’s art and antique gallery. She just opened last March, about the same time she and Wes got engaged.”

  Jenn studied the large red barn surrounded by well-maintained flowerbeds and a lush green lawn. The gravel drive widened to provide a parking area between the barn and house.

  Bill pulled in, and she turned her attention to the large, two-story farmhouse painted light yellow with white shutters. It had an inviting wrap-around porch and a shady front yard where a child’s rope swing hung from the branch of an old maple tree. Flowerbeds with bright annuals and rose bushes in full bloom surrounded the porch.

  Wes parked his Toyota next to them, closer to the barn. As he climbed out of his car, a pretty redhead stepped out the barn door and waved. A broad smile lit up Wes’s face as he met her half way and pulled her into an embrace.

  Jenn lowered her gaze, unfastened her seatbelt and bent to pick up her purse. Her passenger door opened, and Bill looked in at her.

  Heat flooded her cheeks. She hadn’t been waiting for him to open her door. She’d wanted to give Wes and Lauren a moment alone before she interrupted them. She mumbled her thanks to Bill and climbed out of the truck.

  Wes took Lauren’s hand and walked toward them. “Jenn, I want you to meet Lauren.”

  Before she could respond, Lauren stepped forward and gave her a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. This makes everything perfect.”

  “Thanks.” Pain shot through Jenn’s right shoulder as Lauren squeezed tighter. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. When Lauren finally let go, Jenn stepped back, her shoulder and arm throbbing.

  “Come on. Let’s go inside. Aunt Tilley has dinner ready.” Lauren took Wes’s hand and they walked toward the house.

  Bill followed with one brief glance over his shoulder in Jenn’s direction.

  Jenn climbed the back steps and slowed to look around the porch. Two round-back wicker chairs with yellow and blue striped cushions sat near the back door with a small wicker table between them. Four pots of bright red geraniums hung from hooks under the edge of the porch roof. This looked like a great spot to relax and read a book. Jenn smiled at that thought. What a different life Lauren must lead from what Jenn was used to.

  Back in Portland, her days consisted of sleeping in late, meeting her fellow actors at the dinner theater around one, and practicing musical numbers all afternoon until it was time to grab a quick dinner and dress for the evening show.

  “Everything okay?” Bill stood in the doorway, waiting for her. Concern and a hint of some other emotion flickered in his eyes.

  She nodded and forced a small smile. “Sure. Everything’s fine.”

  But she couldn’t push away the empty feeling in her heart. What would she do now that she couldn’t walk out on the stage and hear the applause after each song? How would she fill her days?

  Chapter Five

  Bill settled back in his chair, took a sip of his coffee, and glanced around the table. Dinner with Lauren and Tilley was always a treat, and tonight was no exception. The great food, friendly conversation and comfortable atmosphere made him feel like part of the family.

  Tilley had outdone herself preparing a chicken and rice casserole covered in a cheesy sauce
that melted in his mouth. Of course the homemade rolls, fresh spinach salad, and tender asparagus weren’t bad either. No one cooked like Tilley Woodman.

  Tilley bustled into the dining room bringing a stack of dessert dishes and extra forks. Lauren followed, carrying a delicious-looking strawberry pie and a bowl of whipped cream.

  “I hope you all saved room for dessert.” Tilley set the plates on the dining room table.

  Wes moaned. “You should’ve warned me.” He scooted his chair back and stretched. “But I think I can handle it.” He turned to Lauren’s son, Toby. “How about you, buddy? You ready for some pie?”

  Toby grinned at Wes with glowing eyes. “I love pie.” The little boy turned and watched his great aunt slice the brightly glazed dessert.

  Bill could hardly believe the changes he’d seen in Toby over the last few months. Though he still struggled in his first grade class because of his learning disabilities, the school year was almost over and he was looking forward to summer vacation. He seemed more settled and content now. With Lauren’s constant love and Wes’s involvement, he was learning how to cope and seemed to finally be enjoying the happy childhood he deserved.

  “Can I cut you a piece of pie, Bill?”

  “Sounds great. Thanks, Tilley.”

  Lauren’s aunt halted mid-slice and looked up. “I’m sorry, Jennifer. Where are my manners? You’re our special guest tonight. I should’ve asked you first. Would you like a piece, dear?”

  Jennifer looked uncomfortable at being singled out, but she smiled and nodded. “Sure, thanks. Just a small piece.”

  Bill glanced across the table and studied Wes’s sister. She’d been awfully quiet during dinner, only answering questions that were directed to her. His mind drifted back to their conversation on the ride over. He’d been surprised by her apology. It left him with a nagging feeling that he’d misjudged her. Her love for her pets and interest in animals seemed genuine. Maybe she was an actress, but that didn’t mean everything she did was an act. Those tears in her eyes when she talked about losing her dog had to be real.

  Bill frowned and scooped up his first bite of pie, savoring the sweet berries and cool whipped cream.

  He needed to stop worrying about Jennifer Evans. She was not his concern. Wes and Lauren would take care of her.

  But when he looked up, his gaze connected with Jenn’s. For a brief moment he caught a glimpse past the wall she seemed to have put up to keep everyone at a distance. Behind it he saw a frightened young woman with a wounded heart.

  He blinked, breaking the connection. Gripping his coffee cup, he took a big gulp and tried to shake off the painful impression.

  “I took a drive over to West Harmon today and stopped at that shop Julia told me about.” Lauren smiled at Wes. “I think I found the perfect bridesmaid’s dress.”

  Wes lifted his eyebrows and smiled. “Great.”

  Tilley sat down. “What’s it like, dear?”

  “Floor-length, kind of A-line with a natural waist. I didn’t think I wanted a strapless dress, but this has an organza jacket over the top with three-quarter length sleeves. I’ve got a picture of it in my purse.” Lauren left the table and returned a few seconds later. She handed the picture to Tilley.

  Her aunt held it out at arm’s length and squinted. “Oh, it’s pretty. I like the beads on the bodice.” Tilley passed the picture to Wes.

  He took a quick look. “Looks nice, but I thought you wanted blue dresses.” He passed it to Bill.

  Bill glanced at the dress. It looked good to him, but he didn’t know an A-line from a B-line, so he wasn’t sure his opinion mattered. He handed the picture across the table to Jennifer.

  “The owner said she could order it in periwinkle blue for us. She showed me a fabric sample. It looks perfect.” She smiled at Jennifer. “Maybe you could come with me and see how you like it.”

  Jennifer’s gaze darted from the picture to Lauren. “I guess I could.”

  Lauren smiled, her eyes shining. “Well, I hope so, because I want to be sure the dress works for you.”

  Jenn stared at her. “You want me to be in the wedding?”

  “Yes!” Lauren laughed. “I’m sorry. I guess that wasn’t a very nice way to ask you.” She set her fork down. “Wes and I would like you to be my bridesmaid. We don’t have a very big wedding party. My friend, Julia Berkley, is my maid of honor, and Bill is Wes’s best man. And of course Toby will be up there with us, too.”

  The color drained from Jenn’s face. Her hand trembled as she laid her cloth napkin on the table. “Well, I . . . excuse me.” She pushed back her chair and fled to the kitchen.

  Lauren turned to Wes. “I guess I shouldn’t have put her on the spot like that.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be okay. She’s probably just worried about the cost of the dress or something.” Wes stared toward the kitchen doorway, a perplexed look on his face.

  Bill stood and snatched the empty pitcher off the table. “Think I’ll get us some more water.”

  Wes and Lauren’s whispered words of concern faded as Bill walked into kitchen. A quick glance around the room told him Jennifer must have escaped to the small bathroom off the kitchen. He refilled the pitcher, then took an ice tray from the freezer and slowly dropped the cubes into the water one at a time.

  The bathroom door opened. Jennifer stepped out.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, thanks.” Her smile looked forced, and her red eyes and splotchy cheeks told him she’d been crying.

  “What happened out there?” He nodded toward the dining room.

  “Nothing.” She wrapped her arms around herself, but she didn’t walk away. “I guess I’m just . . . feeling a little emotional.”

  He set the ice cube tray on the counter. “How come? You don’t want to be in the wedding?”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s just. . .” She glanced at the ceiling and bit her trembling lower lip. “I don’t understand why Lauren would ask me to be her bridesmaid. I don’t even know her, and I feel like I hardly know Wes.”

  She slowly shook her head. “I only wrote him a few times while he was working in the Middle East. I didn’t email him very often either, even though that would have been the easiest thing in the world.” She pressed her lips together. “Then after he was arrested, it was too late.”

  “You had no way of knowing that would happen. None of us did.”

  “I tried to help him. I contacted some congressmen and wrote a few letters to government officials, but after a while I ran out of ideas and hope.” She brushed a tear off her cheek. “But I’m the only family he has. I shouldn’t have given up. If I’d kept at it, he wouldn’t have been stuck in that awful prison for eighteen months.” Shuddering, she rubbed her hands down her arms.

  He wished he could give her a comforting hug, but he didn’t know if she would appreciate that. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. That was a tough situation. There wasn’t much anyone could do except pray.”

  “I suppose.” She released a shaky sigh. “But I still can’t imagine why they want me in their wedding.”

  “You’re his sister. He loves you. And I guess he figures he’s only getting married once, so you better be there to see it happen.” He grinned, hoping he could tease her out of her sadness. “Come, on. It’ll be fun. Wes and I are going to wear these stiff-as-a-board penguin suits. We’ll have to pose for a thousand photos and smile until we feel like our faces are going to crack and fall off.

  “Sounds wonderful,” She muttered and reached for a tissue from the box on the counter, but a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

  That spurred him on. “Oh it will be. I promise. And I don’t want to be the only one who’s suffering. So you have to get all dressed up and wear tight, new shoes that’ll pinch your feet and make you want to cry.” He paused realizing he was probably getting carried away. “Seriously, they both want you in the wedding.”

  She glanced up at him. “I suppose you’re rig
ht, but what do I say now? I feel so stupid. They probably think I don’t like Lauren or the dress or . . .”

  “Just tell them the truth.”

  She released a choked laugh. “What? That I’m totally selfish, and I don’t deserve half the kindness they’ve shown me?”

  “No. Say thanks, I’d love to be in your wedding.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yep. Just like that.”

  “All right, but . . .” She bit her lip and looked at him hesitantly.

  “What?”

  “The dress . . . I don’t think—”

  “What? You’d look great in that dress.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt his neck and ears burn. “I mean, it’s a great dress, but if you don’t like it—”

  “No. I like it. I just don’t think it’s . . . right for me.”

  “Then go with Lauren and pick out another one. You heard her. She wants your opinion.” Jennifer still looked doubtful so he added, “Lauren’s sweet. I’m sure she’ll listen to whatever you say. Give her a chance.”

  She smiled, and her gaze settled on him. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “For?”

  “Listening and talking me out of this weird emotional . . . thing.”

  He chuckled. “Not a problem.”

  But as he followed Jenn into the dining room doubts circled through his mind. Had he’d made a mistake stepping in like that? Wasn’t Wes the one who wanted to get closer to her? He cast that thought aside. Wes wouldn’t mind. He’d be grateful.

  But he sensed a warning in his spirit. He needed to be careful and not invest too much in this friendship. When the wedding was over, Jenn would be headed home to Oregon.

  * * * *

  Bill flipped the page, read the final lines of the chapter, and groaned to himself. How could he stop there? He checked the clock on his bedroom end table and found it was after eleven. If he didn’t hit the sack soon he’d pay for it tomorrow.