It was perfectly normal.
She’d found herself thinking about Nate over the last couple of days. It had amazed her that they’d had such a good time riding bikes together. But, more important, they’d seemed to have eased each other’s burdens by voicing the fears and resentments that plagued them. And by voicing how much they still loved Marc and Kayla it had made them…comfortable with each other. It was important that Nate knew how much she’d loved her husband.
Nate’s love for his wife touched Polly. Deeply.
It also relieved her somewhat to know that someone else could love their dead spouse as much as she loved Marc and still—she had a hard time even now thinking it—and still grow weary of carrying that weight around.
She’d felt deep down as if she was betraying Marc by feeling such a thing. It still amazed her that she’d opened up to Nate that way. And that he’d reciprocated.
It had been nice to loosen up for an afternoon. She’d really needed it. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so wound up lately. She rationalized it was the emotions of the move and all that that entailed—leaving behind the place she and Marc and Gil had called home and starting over. The bike ride had helped. For a little while there she’d felt almost as if life was normal.
She’d actually teased Nate about finding him cute. The very idea still amazed her—both ideas, that she’d teased him and that she found him so attractive. But really, he was a handsome man, and there was nothing wrong with her noticing it. But that was as far as it went.
She swung away from the mirror, hurried down the stairs and opened the door before Nate had a chance to knock. “What are you doing here?” she blurted out. He was just lifting his hand to knock and he lifted a brow and slowly let his hand down.
“And a good day to you, too,” he said.
Polly cringed. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right.” Boy, was that an understatement. “I’ve just been busy and hadn’t expected anyone.” She stepped out onto the porch.
“Polly’s a pretty girl,” Pepper called from inside. Polly snatched at the door and yanked it shut.
“Smart bird,” Nate said, grinning.
Polly didn’t know what to do with the backhanded compliment, so she ignored it and the tremor that raced through her chest. She refused to overreact. Still, looking at him, she felt off balance.
“I came to ask if Gil could go with me on Friday night to a campout?”
“A campout?” She repeated, sounding like Pepper.
“Yeah. Over at Cort and Lilly Wells’s place. They hold these overnighters and weekend retreats for church youth groups, and they have a group coming from a small church in Caldwell. I’ve never helped before but they asked if I could. Pace Gentry usually helps, but he had other commitments come up. Anyway, I, well, I thought Gil would enjoy it. Max is going, too. And I’d take good care of him.”
What was wrong with her? Gil had been talking about this. “It sounds like a fun time. Gil has been talking about it. I would love for him to go.”
Nate’s smile broadened. “Good.”
Polly swallowed hard, looking at him. She’d gotten caught up in the moment on Sunday and had flirted with this man. Actually told him he was cute!
It struck her that those words were the understatement of the year. This man was far more than cute. Looking at him now she felt as if a feather had just traced down her spine. She almost shivered.
“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to work, then,” he said after they’d been staring at each other for a few seconds. He turned away and headed toward his truck.
Polly realized belatedly that he was probably waiting for her to say something. She fought to quell the jittery way he made her feel. “Hey, cowboy, is that a limp I see?” she asked. It was the first thing that popped into her head.
“I owe you for that.” He glanced back at her. “I’ve been in pain for two days because of you.” His grin broke through the mock-serious expression.
She couldn’t help laughing. “So sorry. But Nate—” she wrapped her hands around the porch railing “—thanks for listening to me melt down Sunday.” That was what was wrong with her. She’d been embarrassed at how she’d acted after church. She’d been thinking about the way he’d held her hands and empathized with her. “I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”
He swung toward her, his spurs clinking. “What are friends for? And while we’re at it, thank you, too. I might be sore, but I think you’re onto something with those endorphins. I woke up feeling better than I’ve felt in—” he paused, looking down at his boots then back up at her “—a long time.”
The expression in his eyes made Polly’s heart pound faster. “That’s what friends are for.”
They studied each other for a long moment and Polly felt her heart skitter, then free-falling. She looked away, but the free falling continued.
“Pollyanna,” he said, drawing her to look at him again. As he held her gaze, it seemed as if he was going to say something more. But instead he nodded his head toward his truck. “I’ll see you later. And thanks for letting Gil go with me Friday night.”
Polly was glad to have something other than her crazy heart rate to focus on. “If he was coming around too much, you would tell me, right?”
“He can’t come around too much. Pollyanna, I really enjoy his company. He’s, well, he’s good for me…and I think I’m good for him.”
Polly took a deep breath and let that sink in. It was true, after all. “Like I’ve said over and over, thank you,” she managed to say, her voice tight. She needed to stop worrying about Nate and Gil getting too close. He nodded, spun stiffly and ambled away. Polly watched him go, then turned to head inside, feeling as if she’d just stepped out of a spinning teacup at Six Flags Over Texas amusement park.
“So we hear Nate and Gil are going to the campout together,” Ester Mae said.
The ladies had arrived early Wednesday morning, all decked out for gardening, topped off with wide-brimmed straw hats. Well, Esther Mae and Adela had wide brims, with paisley-print bands. Norma Sue had on a straw cowboy hat with a red bandanna tied around it. They’d been unloading Norma Sue’s truck when Polly had gotten back from dropping Gil and Max off at school.
To say Polly had been surprised was an understatement. That truck had been packed to overflowing with plants from their own yards, and flats of new flowers. Obviously, the three ladies had gone somewhere and bought out a nursery.
They’d been plotting and planning for an hour on where to plant everything. Now they were busy working, scattered at various positions along the flower bed bordering the front porch. Esther Mae’s comment was the first mention of Nate.
Polly paused in her digging. “Yes, he is.”
“That’s mighty nice of Nate to invite him,” Norma Sue said. “We were encouraged to hear that Nate agreed to help Cort and Lilly in the first place. Only a few weeks ago, he would have turned Cort down flat.”
“That’s the truth,” Esther Mae huffed. “That cutie-patootie suddenly seems to be getting back into the swing of things.”
Everyone down the row beamed at Polly, making her squirm with unease.
“I think you and Gil have been very good for him,” Adela added, patting the dirt gently around the periwinkle she’d just planted. “The very idea that you had him on a bike amazes me.”
Polly smiled, hoping it didn’t look as pained as she felt. “He’s been good for Gil.” It was the truth, and obviously everyone had noticed it. But there were these strange, selfish moments that she struggled to understand and deal with when she saw him with her son. Not to mention the way she’d been feeling lately when he was around. It was disturbing, but if she were really honest, it was nice, too.
Adela dug a new hole with her trowel. “You know, it’s a pity Nate and Kayla didn’t get the chance to have children of their own. Kayla told me once they planned to have a large family.”
That didn’t surprise Polly. It would have when she’d first met Nate
. But not now. He was good and patient and so very kind with Gil.
“God’s plan, though,” Adela said firmly. “He always has a plan. Even if we don’t understand.”
Polly knew it was true. She just hoped they didn’t get too carried away with thinking that plan included her and Nate becoming any more than friends.
She’d hate to disappoint them after all they’d done for her. But she’d warned them. And that was all she could do.
Chapter Sixteen
“He’s here!” Gil whooped as he slid down the banister and landed at Polly’s feet.
Gil had about driven her crazy over the past couple of days talking about the camping trip.
“Stop right there, young man,” she commanded as he dodged her and scrambled toward the front door. His sleeping bag and backpack had long since been set on the porch waiting for this moment when Nate would come to pick him up. “I need a hug before you go off into the wild blue yonder.”
He slid to a halt. “But, Mom, he’s here.”
Polly chuckled as she crossed to where he stood and engulfed him in a bear hug. Despite his hurry he hugged her back. Probably because he realized humoring her would be the quickest way to get out the door.
Releasing him, she followed him onto the porch and watched Nate climbing out of his truck. Her nerves kicked in as he strode up the walk looking handsome and fully capable of taking care of her son for the night. The man was totally male, strong and…capable. Her son would be safe.
“I’m ready, Nate,” Gil said, scrambling off the porch loaded down with all his camping paraphernalia. Bogie followed him, prancing happily since they’d finally freed him of his clown collar.
“Okay, buddy, load up and I’ll be right there.” Nate smiled at her as he came to a halt at the bottom of the steps. “You doing okay?”
Polly nodded. “You’ll take good care of him?”
His eyes held hers, steady and reassuring. “Like he was my own.”
She flinched inwardly at that but hid it. At least she hoped so, but the shadow that crossed his face made her think maybe he’d seen it. “Good” was all she could say. She knew he would take care of Gil. Like his own. She took a deep breath. What more could she ask than that?
“Relax, Pollyanna,” Nate urged gently, then surprised her when he took her hand. His touch sent a shock wave up her arm and she tried to pull away, but he held firm, looking at her intently. It was almost as if he could read her mind.
“Have a nice relaxing evening and I’ll have him back by lunch tomorrow. I promise.”
She nodded, then tugged her hand out of his, relieved when he let go. She fought the need to tell him again to keep him safe but knew she had to let go a little. “I’ll be here,” she said instead, and smiled. She knew he could see how tight it was, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded and headed down the path. Gil was chattering away as they waved and drove off, leaving her and Bogie behind.
Polly watched until the truck disappeared from view, then she wrapped her arms across each other and stood there a little longer. She glanced down at the tulips that were almost ready to bloom and her heart skipped a beat as she looked back to the empty spot from which the truck had long ago disappeared.
Then finally, fighting off the uncalled-for unease pricking at her, she turned and went inside. She had work to do. Time was zipping by and there was still a lot to be done, painting especially, before she opened. Her son was in capable hands.
Very capable hands.
The following Saturday morning, Polly had her living room finished. The walls were a soft buttercup-yellow. Hands on hips, she admired the look of it. Bogie sat on the back of the sofa and appeared to be studying the effects right along with her.
“What do you think, buddy?” she asked, glancing at him. He wagged his curlicue tail and turned his deep chocolate eyes to look at her. Polly sighed. “I think that if you could talk you would tell me that you really like the effect of the glaze on the paint. Good, huh?”
Pepper was perched on the stair railing. “Pepper, what do you think?” she asked, sidestepping Bo and Sylvie as they crawled from beneath the sofa. Bo was pulling a Twizzler, teasing Sylvie with it. Boys would be boys.
“What do you think, Pepper?” Pepper mimicked.
Polly began humming “Old McDonald Had a Farm” and headed to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of iced tea. She’d awakened to the sunlight streaming into her window and the sound of Gil singing.
Gil singing.
Gil did not sing.
At least he hadn’t for a very long time. His singing again was music to her heart. The camping trip the week before had been a full-fledged turning point for him. And much of that was due to Nate.
Nate.
Listening to her hum, Bogie padded into the kitchen behind her and flopped down, all four legs sprawled out, his belly flat against the varnished wood floor. He looked like he’d been squashed. Pepper flew into the room, landed on Bogie’s back and watched her pour the tea over her glass of ice. It still amazed her that the dog hadn’t tried to eat the bird the first time Pepper had used him as a perch. But he hadn’t, instead he seemed to like it.
Taking her tea, she walked outside leaving Bogie and Pepper standing at the screen door watching her.
“Catch ya later, gator,” Pepper called.
Polly’s steps faltered. It was Marc’s catchphrase, and though it wasn’t something Pepper said often, when he did it always gave Polly’s heartstrings a tug. It was as if the little bird knew the words were important.
Catch ya later, gator, Marc would whisper in her ear after kissing her goodbye and heading to work.
Polly took a sip of her tea, swallowing the lump in her throat. She set the cup on the porch banister, her thoughts going to Marc. Happy thoughts. Still, her hand trembled as she picked up the watering pitcher, then walked out to the water spigot beside the shed. The niggling prick of worry that had stealthily hovered at the back of her mind for days tried to blossom. She ignored it as she’d been doing, humming instead as she waited for the pitcher to fill. Things were good.
Gil was singing. Gil was happy. She was good.
Bert came up to the fence, sticking his boney little head through the gate and watching her with alert eyes. He had settled into his area nicely as he happily devoured every bush and barb he could find. They’d replaced the rope latch with a chain that he couldn’t eat. Still, Bogie kept his distance from the fence when he was outside.
“Bad Bert,” Polly teased, When the pitcher was full she picked up her tea glass and carried it and the watering pitcher to the front of the house to water her precious tulips.
She was so thankful Bert hadn’t eaten them before they’d banished him to his own yard. Soon they would be bursting with color and hope.
And a promise.
Marc’s promise. Crazy guy, he’d always sent her tulips. They always arrived as soon as he and his friends left for an event, a race, a skydive…whatever it was they were doing that Saturday that he knew she was worried would put him at risk. The planter of not-yet-budding tulips was a symbol to her from him.
“Life is for living,” he would say. “The coming blossoms promise that my love is always with you,” the card would always read. Even if something should happen and he wasn’t, it would imply.
In some ways she’d always hated those tulips. But she’d loved Marc with all her heart, and though she’d always thought his love of extreme sports was selfish on some levels, it was also part of his personality that she loved. Because of that she’d endured it and he’d loved her for it.
And now she didn’t have him, through no fault of any stupid sport. But she had his tulips and his promise.
And they actually did give her hope. That was why she kept the bulbs each year and continued to add to them.
She’d come to look at them not only as a symbol of Marc’s ongoing love, but as a symbol of God’s promise to her, too. That He would always be there for her.
Toda
y was a sparkling April day, and feeling the hope that the flowers always brought her, Polly lifted her face to the mild warmth of the sun. The faint sound of Gil’s laughter surprised her and she opened her eyes, immediately spotting Nate and her son. After he’d come down for breakfast he’d raced over to Nate’s early because he was going to help Nate fix fences. She hadn’t realized they would be so close. They were down the hill working on Nate’s front fence. As she watched, Nate placed his hand on Gil’s shoulder and pointed something out to him with his other hand. The gesture sent Polly’s heart spiraling.
They looked like father and son.
When Gil looked up at Nate she didn’t have to be close enough to see his eyes to know that adoration filled them.
Polly couldn’t breathe.
Her son had a major case of hero worship. And it was growing by the moment. All he talked about was Nate.
It was Nate this and Nate that.
Nate made him sing. Nate made him happy.
Gil laughed again and Polly felt like the sun grew brighter with the sound. Instinctively, she let her hand graze the tips of Marc’s tulips, then her legs gave out and she sank to the steps, her heart suddenly breaking into tiny pieces. Her son was happy and it was because of Nate. But her heart ached for Marc. Someone else was getting the adoration that should have been his.
And that was the unreasonable thing that had been hammering at her for days.
Marc was gone. Marc couldn’t teach his son to feed cows, or ride a horse. Marc couldn’t watch his son grow….
Let it go, Pollyanna. Let it go.
It wasn’t as if she weren’t trying. It was odd, this protective thing she felt for guarding Marc’s place in her son’s heart.
It wasn’t easy watching her son move further away from memories of his dad. She had to, though. She had to. She’d been praying about it. Praying hard.
Prayer could do miraculous things.
Well, almost.
Prayer wouldn’t turn back the clock and make her family whole again…and she had to come to terms with that.
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