by Lois Richer
Someone, probably Henry since he’d helped Luc set things up, started the boom box and soft dreamy music filled the area. Children who had fallen asleep were wrapped in warm quilts and left to rest while their parents danced in a slow rhythm to the dreamy music. Luc wondered who had chosen such romantic music. He jumped a little when he heard a familiar voice in his ear.
“Are you going to dance with me, Luc, on my almost-birthday?” Holly held out her arms, her smile faraway.
“Of course.” He slid his arm around her narrow waist and laid his palm against hers before leading her in the mesmerizing beat of the song.
Swaying together as one, they danced under the fairy lights and into the shadows. They danced through friends’ laughter and the occasional cry of a fractious child. Luc didn’t know how long they danced; he only knew he wanted it to go on forever.
“Did you notice?” Holly’s breath feathered over his ear. “They’ve left and we’re all alone.” She drew away the length of his arms, her beautiful eyes gleaming. “It was a wonderful birthday evening, Luc. Thank you.”
Holly leaned forward and pressed a soft, sweet kiss against his lips. Then she eased from his grip and pointed to a note left on the table that had held the potluck dishes.
Henry’s with me. See you. Hilda.
“I’ll help you clean up.” Holly began gathering leftovers but Luc put his hands on hers.
“No, don’t do that.”
Holly smiled a funny little smile. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I’m sure.”
And he was. He was sure that it was time for Holly to go home and past time for him to step back. Being with Holly so much lately had made him emotionally vulnerable. At this moment all Luc wanted to do was keep her in his arms, maybe return that kiss she’d laid on him.
But that wasn’t going to happen because he knew too well that fairy tales didn’t always end happily ever after and neither did most marriages.
“Go home, Holly. Enjoy tomorrow. You deserve it.”
“Oh.” She looked confused but eventually turned toward her car. “Okay. Good night Luc,” she said, turning back once to say, “Thank you.”
“Happy birthday, Holly.”
Luc watched until the faint red of her taillights disappeared into the night. Then with a sigh of acceptance he unplugged the lights, gathered the remaining debris and poured water over the fire. That was what he needed to do to his strange feelings, because nothing could come of them.
Tomorrow he’d find out Holly’s schedule and work out one of his own so he could finish her renovation when she wasn’t around.
“You were a lucky man, Marcus,” he muttered as he restored the kitchen to its usual neatness. “Holly is a wonderful woman. I’ll do my best to help however she needs me, but I won’t let her become more than a good friend. I can’t.”
Chapter Eight
A few days later Holly drove home after a consultation with Abby, preoccupied by the young girl so close to giving birth.
“Petra’s afraid of something,” Abby had insisted.
“Or someone. The question is who or what?” Holly mused aloud. “So far she’s resisted all my efforts to find out. But I’ll keep trying.”
“I wish she’d realize we only want to help.” Abby had waved off Holly’s offer to stay, insisting she’d spent far too many hours at Family Ties already.
Now as Holly drove into her yard, she noticed Luc’s truck parked under the big poplar tree she and her father had planted on her fifth birthday. For a moment the tree-planting memories marking each year of her life overtook Holly and she paused to let them roll through her mind.
“I miss you, Dad.” She took a bracing breath and brushed her fingers across her eyes to erase evidence of her tears.
Odd that Luc was still here. Ever since the night of the potluck he’d avoided her, and Holly was fairly certain she knew why. Because she’d kissed him. If she’d thought twice she wouldn’t have done it. But it had been so sweet of him to painstakingly hang those lights just for her.
The town grapevine still buzzed with talk about all the work Luc had gone to in order to make the night before her birthday special. She’d been embarrassed to walk away and leave him with the mess, but he’d been so insistent she go. And truthfully, it had hurt to realize her kiss had left him unmoved.
Not that Holly was looking for anything romantic with Luc, but the way he’d held her, danced with her—it seemed to Holly there’d been something growing between them, something deeper than the casual friendship they’d shared earlier.
“Is something wrong?”
Startled by the voice she’d been imagining, Holly jumped and let out a squeal. “Stop creeping up on me!”
“Really?” Luc lifted one eyebrow then glanced down at his cowboy boots. “Creeping? In these?” He shrugged. “Sorry.” He turned and walked toward his truck.
“Luc.” Holly had blown it and she knew it. She climbed out of her jeep and hurried toward him. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you caught me at a bad moment.”
“Oh?” He looked at her with those eyes, and it was like being x-rayed, as if he saw right through her.
“I drove into the yard and noticed that tree.” She ignored his dubious look. “I got caught up remembering when Dad and I planted it and, well, I miss him.”
“I miss him, too, Holly,” he said in a quiet tone. The stern lines that had kept Luc’s face impassive a mere moment earlier now dissipated with his soft smile. “Marcus left a big impact on a lot of people.”
As you have, Holly thought.
“I was going to tell you that I’ve about finished with your room.” He frowned. “I still have the floor to do but I can’t do that with your dad’s trunk shoved in the corner. Aren’t you ever going to empty it?”
“What is it with you and that trunk?” she asked with asperity. “Can’t you just shove it into the dining room or something?”
“I guess.” He shoved back his cowboy hat to rub his eyebrow. “But I think you should deal with it. Why keep ignoring it?”
How could she tell him?
“I’m afraid to open it. I don’t know what he has in there and…” She couldn’t finish, couldn’t reveal what was at the root of her hesitation.
“You think he was keeping some secret from you?” Luc frowned again. “That doesn’t sound like your dad.”
“Yes, it does.” She managed a laugh to cover her nervousness. “It sounds exactly like Marcus Janzen to go to great lengths to keep something from his baby girl, especially if he worried it would make her sad.”
“I never thought of that.” Luc gave her a strange look. Before she could decipher it, he looked away. “What do you think he was hiding?” His voice sounded almost hesitant.
“Something to do with my mother maybe?” It was a relief to finally say it. “I think he always hoped I’d connect with her. It would be like him to feel that was his fatherly duty.”
“So what’s to be afraid of?” Luc asked.
“I have no desire to try to build some kind of connection after all these years.” Exasperated that he didn’t understand, Holly blurted, “She gave birth to me but there is no emotional connection. Not like I have with you or Henry.”
“Maybe you could build one,” he said quietly.
“I don’t want to invest myself and be dumped again. Don’t you understand?” She was tired of trying to explain how she felt without letting Luc see the bitterness that still festered inside over her mother’s treatment of her father. So she turned and strode back to her car.
“Holly, I’m sorry.” Luc caught up and grabbed her arm. “It’s just that I don’t want you to later regret not connecting.”
“I won’t.” He let her go and she removed her purse and a grocery bag from her vehicle. “In all these years she hasn’t made any effort to see me. Seeking her out now would be trying to force a connection that neither of us truly wants.”
“Then what are you afraid of?” Luc said, his brows drawn tog
ether.
“That Dad will have left a note asking me to do just that. I’d have to do it, if he asked,” she said.
“So open the trunk.” Luc crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.
“I’ll get around to it.” Holly walked toward the house leaving Luc standing where he was. When she reached the door, she turned. “Hilda’s bringing Henry out for dinner. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Henry, huh?” He stood there, obviously considering her offer.
“Yes, Henry and steak and blueberry pie,” she said curtly, irritated that her presence didn’t seem to matter to him. “Dinner’s at six. If you’re not interested, fine.”
Apparently startled by her brusqueness, Luc opened and closed his mouth. Disgusted with his slow response and remembering a time when he would have eagerly sought out her company and her cooking, Holly blew out a sigh of frustration that ruffled her bangs. She went inside. Good thing she’d quashed those silly romantic daydreams because Luc certainly wasn’t interested in her.
“And I’m not opening that stupid trunk yet, either, Luc Cramer,” she grumbled, shooting the inanimate article a nasty glare as she passed the second bedroom. She’d started toward her room to change clothes when the front door opened.
“I’d like to come for dinner with you and Henry. I’ll go do my chores, change and be back by six. Thank you.” After that stilted speech, Luc left.
A slow smile crept across her face.
Holly changed and prepared dinner while puzzling over his attitude. In the past week Luc hadn’t sought out her advice and help once. Was that because his adoption plans were proceeding smoothly? That dismaying thought made her pause. Once Luc had permanent custody of Henry, would she be left out?
She was bothered by that thought. She didn’t want to relinquish the closeness she and Luc had developed since her father’s death. She’d grown accustomed to Luc’s protective watch and hated the thought that he would no longer be there for her as he had been.
Perhaps asking him to dinner was a good idea that should be repeated later this week. Or maybe she should change it up with a picnic or a suggestion to accompany Luc and Henry on an outing.
“Inveigling yourself like that is pathetic,” she mumbled.
But so was sitting at home sewing baby clothes for someone else when she could be with Luc and Henry. When had her beloved sewing taken such a backseat?
“I’m here,” Henry announced, shoving open the door and stepping inside the house. Hilda stood behind him, trying without success to tame his cowlick.
“I didn’t even hear you drive up,” Holly apologized after hugging the little boy. “It’s good of you to bring him out here, Hilda. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“No, thanks.” Hilda preened a little then leaned forward to whisper, “I have a dinner date.”
“You look lovely.” And she did with that flush of rose coloring her cheeks and anticipation lighting her eyes. “I hope you have a wonderful time,” Holly told her.
“I will. Dennis Canterbury is a nice fellow.” She smiled at Holly’s confused look. “Dennis is the grandfather of that baby girl you delivered this morning.”
“Of course. How silly of me to have forgotten.” A video of this morning’s delivery with friends and family eagerly awaiting the birth of a darling boy with big blue eyes and blond hair played in her memory, creating a block in Holly’s throat. “Dennis has a beautiful grandchild,” she managed to say around it.
If only she hadn’t given her son away, her father would have had a grandchild, too.
“I’d better get going.” Hilda patted her freshly set hair. “Do you think this hair color is too bold for a woman of my age?”
“I think you look nice,” Henry said, his head tilted to one side as he observed her.
“So do I.” Holly slid her arm across Henry’s shoulders and smiled at him. “And Henry and I have the best judgment.” She winked at the boy.
“Well, I don’t know.” A faint frown drew lines around Hilda’s eyes.
“Don’t fuss,” Holly ordered. “I’ll bring Henry home later and put him to bed at the usual time if you’re not home.”
“Thank you, dear. You know where the key is.” Hilda reached out to smooth Henry’s stubborn hair but stopped midreach. She sighed, shook her head and walked to the door.
“Bye,” Holly called out at the same time as Henry. They looked at each other and Hilda and all three of them burst into laughter.
This was what Holly wanted. Friends, family. A person to share her life with. She knew she didn’t deserve it, not after what she’d done. That didn’t stop the wanting, not that it would do her any good.
“Am I too early?” Luc asked through the screen door.
“Just in time,” Holly told him with a smile. Because he always was.
*
Luc patted Holly’s shoulder in his best avuncular manner. Dinner was done and he was looking forward to spending time with Henry and her when she got a phone call. Petra was in labor.
She looked around at the messy kitchen, but Luc preempted her objection.
“Leave the dishes to Henry and me. You go help that girl at Family Ties. She needs you.”
“Petra sounded scared.” Holly’s voice brimmed with worry. “She kept telling me she wasn’t due for ages but I knew better. I should have—”
“You can’t blame yourself,” he said. “You always say babies have their own schedules.”
“True.” She tucked her phone in her pocket. “What about— Scratch that. I know you can handle anything.”
“Almost.” Luc grinned.
Holly rolled her eyes. She hugged Henry before striding to the door then at the last minute turned. “I promised Hilda I’d get Henry to bed at her place if she wasn’t home by eight thirty.”
“Go, Holly,” Luc said. “We’ll be fine. Take care of Petra. Henry and I will take care of that blueberry pie you made.”
“Like I didn’t already know that.” She hurried out the door. A moment later he heard the roar of her car’s motor and the crunch of gravel as she sped away.
“Okay, buddy.” Luc ruffled Henry’s hair. “It’s up to you and me to get this place shipshape for Holly.”
“Does shipshape mean cleaning?” Henry asked, his nose wrinkled in repugnance.
“Sure does,” Luc assured him with a smile. “Holly made the meal. We clean up. You want to wash the dishes?”
“And get my hands wet?” Henry looked so scandalized Luc burst into laughter.
“Okay, you can dry.”
They spent the next few minutes returning the kitchen to its usual immaculate condition. Henry found a domino train game on Holly’s shelf. They played until Luc saw Henry’s head droop.
“Time to get you back to Ms. Hilda’s.” Luc smiled when Henry didn’t argue.
Hilda was home and waiting for her charge. She sent Henry to prepare for bed then listened to Luc’s explanation about Holly.
“So if you can handle it from here, I guess I’ll head home,” Luc said. “G’night, Henry,” he called. Henry came flying downstairs. Luc relaxed into his hug, savoring the precious moment.
Please, God, let him be mine soon.
“I hope that Petra girl isn’t playing a game with Holly.” Hilda escorted him to the front door. “Something isn’t on the up and up with that girl.”
“How do you know that?” Luc asked, curious about the comment.
“I’ve been by Family Ties a few times, Luc. I’ve heard Petra tell Abby wild, fanciful stories. I’ve even caught her in a lie myself.” Hilda’s lips pursed. “Holly’s a good girl. She our town treasure. I don’t want her hurt.”
“You’re a town treasure, too, Hilda.” Luc hugged her then ducked out the door. “Thanks for watching out for Henry.”
“He’s a joy,” Hilda said. “I’ll be sorry when he leaves.”
As Luc drove through town he realized Henry had touched more than his own life. Surely God would
keep him here, let him be raised among people who really cared about him.
He noticed that the light at the church was on and decided to stop. Andy, the most recent casualty in the marriage department, had called him last night to ask for help and Luc was short on answers. Maybe Pastor Don could help Luc help Andy.
Luc pulled into the lot certain of just one thing. Andy’s call had reinforced Luc’s certainty that he never wanted to get married. He didn’t want to go through what Andy was suffering. He hoped the pastor had some answers for him about God’s will. Luc had studied his Bible but still couldn’t get a handle on God’s plan for his life.
Nor did Luc understand the strange bloom in his affection for Holly. He did know he’d better keep these feelings for her under control because nothing could come of them. He needed to avoid getting too close. Starting a relationship could mean he’d risk ending up as wretched as his friends. No, marriage wasn’t for him.
But wasn’t it funny that he kept having these thoughts of Holly by his side?
*
“You’re doing well, Petra.” Holly smiled at the young girl encouragingly, wishing she’d been able to extract the name of her parents or a friend, anyone who could be here for her. But even after three hours of hard labor, Petra remained adamant. There was no one to call.
“I’m sorry I lied to you.” The contraction over, Petra leaned her head against the pillow and inhaled deeply, a sheen of perspiration on her face. “I knew I didn’t have long to go but I didn’t want anyone poking and prodding at me every day.”
“It would have helped us prepare for the birth,” Holly said. There was no time for scolding as another contraction gripped the young girl.
“Breathe, Petra. Breathe just as I showed you,” Dora Cummings ordered in a no-nonsense voice. “Come on now.”
Holly was glad she’d called the nurse to assist. Dora had been invaluable in encouraging Petra to push through the contractions when she would have given up. Ever mindful of the imminent birth, Holly waited until this one was over then quickly checked the girl’s progress.
Dora shot a questioning look at Holly.
“It’s time,” Holly murmured, knowing Dora would understand. “You’re doing great, Petra. When the next one comes we’ll ask you to push really hard but when I say stop pushing, you must stop. That’s very important. Okay?”