Love Blossoms: 7 Spring-Fresh Christian Romances

by Kimberly Rae Jordan

  If only she’d gotten to know Cat better as they planned for today. Then when Cat mentioned her brother would help, she’d have realised who he was.

  She should have guessed, anyway. Going to the early church service meant she hadn’t met three quarters of the congregation, but she knew Cat was the minister’s daughter, and she knew the minister was a Maclean.

  Failing to work out something so obvious bothered her. Like forgetting things did.

  She pushed the thought away. She was just busy, trying to juggle so many responsibilities. Better to think that than worry about the real reason.

  Dragging her mind back to the task, she raised her picking stick above her head and waved it. “Ready to go? Let’s spread out and clean up!”

  As the group scattered and began working, she stood alone with him. So much for avoiding the man.

  He looked up from the crumpled plastic shopping bag on the end of his picker, and smiled. “This sensory garden sounds like a big project. Are you sure you’re not taking on too much, on top of everything else?”

  She stared at him, trying to read his expression. Unease twitched her nerves.

  Could he have guessed? She’d been so careful to keep her private life secret. Or did he just think she was flaky?

  “It’s not too much.” She snapped back harder than she meant to. “I know I’m a year behind schedule completing my teaching qualification, but I’ll get it done. And I’m sorry if you’re upset I went early last week, leaving you to coach both Year Eight classes. I committed to doing the garden, and I’ll see it through. I believe in this project.”

  He raised his hands in apology. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything. The last few months of my teaching course were crazy with assignments. I figured yours would be the same.”

  A bottle cap by her feet became suddenly fascinating, and she heaved a deep breath. She’d really messed up this time. “Sorry. You’re right, I have been up late working on assignments.”

  “You’ll do it. I don’t doubt you.” He smiled.

  “I’m glad one of us has confidence in me.” She could kick herself for overreacting.

  Though he did think she was flaky. She hadn’t missed his frown when she’d had to rush home on Wednesday to take Mum to an unexpected doctor’s appointment.

  “We’re in agreement then, for once?”

  Nodding, she wasn’t quite sure what she agreed to.

  At school, they butted heads every week. Okay, maybe she butted heads with him more than was strictly necessary.

  She looked forward to her day teaching with Fraser, far too much. Despite his catchphrase, Anything For A Simple, Uncomplicated Life, he gave a lot to the kids and cared for them far more than his hardnosed attitude let on. He was strong, smart, fit, and funny.

  Debating teaching techniques and taking opposing sides on current affairs made keeping him at arm’s length easier.

  She bent and collected that bottle cap.

  “After all these months working together I thought I knew you, but I never saw you as the gardening type,” he broke their awkward silence. “Let alone designing an entire garden. Makes me wonder what else about you I don’t know.”

  Anxiety flooded her, tensing her muscles. There was plenty he didn’t know, and she never wanted him to know.

  Instead of surrendering to the urge to run, she shrugged. “It’s not so unusual to enjoy gardening. I like being outside and active. I could say the same to you.”

  “No secrets here.” He gave up using his stick on another plastic shopping bag, half buried in the dirt. Bending, he reached out a gloved hand and hauled it free. “I already told you I hate gardening.”

  She hesitated. How much dare she say? “It’s my mother who’s the gardener. We’ve moved somewhere with no outdoor space beyond a patch of concrete, and she misses having a garden. Once things get to the planting stage here, I think she’ll like being involved.”

  At least, she hoped so. Even if Mum couldn’t manage any of the work, she’d have a garden to enjoy for as long as she could.

  Fraser’s smile showed no hint he suspected the truth. “That’s a nice thing to do for her. You should have brought her along. My mum wanted to help, but she and Dad are on a retreat.”

  “Mum’s not well today.” She winced at the unintended sharpness in her voice, but she couldn’t bear Fraser or anyone else asking questions about her mother.

  She wasn’t ashamed of Mum, far from it. Just… explaining wasn’t easy.

  People responded to her differently once they knew. Being on the receiving end of pity hurt worse than a broken bone.

  Broken bones healed in time; those wounds didn’t.

  But Mum gave her a perfect excuse to escape. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket. “I should check she’s okay.”

  “Sure. I hope she’s feeling better.”

  That would take a miracle. She smiled dutifully and walked a few steps away before pushing the quick dial for home.

  Her gaze wandered to Fraser while the phone rang. His T-shirt couldn’t disguise the strong muscles of his shoulders and arms. Just like at school, she needed to discipline herself to look away.

  Her chest tightened when the phone rang and rang and wasn’t answered.

  She had to trust everything was all right. Trish, Mum’s usual carer, was there. Things would be fine. She’d try again later.

  No point leaving a message. The red blinking light on the answering machine bothered Mum, and she never could remember how to pick up voicemail. Best to send Trish a text.

  Message sent, Sarah surveyed the garden site. The teens were horsing around, playing robots with their sticks, but their well-filled bin bags showed they’d been working.

  Fraser stood beside Mary Mackay, helping her with something. Sarah forced her gaze to move on, to Moira and Derek.

  The couple’s rubbish bags were almost empty. Moira picked up a small piece of paper, and her nose wrinkled like she’d smelled something bad.

  Sarah had hoped the couple with most gardening knowledge would be more enthusiastic.

  Smiling but saying nothing, she moved to work beside them. Their pace accelerated fractionally, though she picked up four pieces of trash for every one they managed. They were doing something, and she should be grateful.

  Maybe they needed to be told that.

  “Thank you so much for helping,” she said. “I’m glad to have gardeners with your experience on the team. Your own garden must be wonderful.”

  The smile Moira gave hovered uncomfortably between smug self-satisfaction and false modesty. “We certainly think so, don’t we, Derek? And the contest judges usually agree. When we heard your garden design had been chosen, we knew you’d need our expert assistance.”

  Sarah forced her lips to stay stretched in a smile. “I appreciate all the offers of help.”

  “We try to help wherever there’s a need. And this is certainly a need.” Moira sniffed. “You know we submitted a design for consideration? We visualised this area as a parterre, with topiary hedging in a chequerboard design.”

  Sarah blinked. It sounded totally unsuitable. And high-maintenance too.

  But it explained the couple’s coolness. They’d hate working on her project. Sensory gardens didn’t conform to the rules for prizewinning suburban gardens.

  She drew a deep breath and tried to be diplomatic. “That would make an excellent show garden. I do hope you get the chance to build it one day.”

  “We do too.”

  Calling what she heard in Derek’s voice antagonism would be exaggerating. But not by much.

  When she saw the request for garden designs in the church newsletter, she’d jumped right into planning. A sensory garden could help Mum so much. When she learned about Cat and the messy church programme, everything started to click.

  She couldn’t concentrate on her assignments in the evenings while Mum watched TV, so she’d worked on it then. Never imagining it would cause any friction, she’d been thrilled
when the board selected her design.

  Today was getting more and more fun. In a not-fun kind of way.

  Her work team consisted of a pair of teens, doing the next best thing to holding hands as they carried one bin bag between them. A sweet but frail older woman, unable to manage much physical labour. A couple angry their design wasn’t chosen. And Fraser, a big help, but more distraction than she needed.

  Plus, she still hadn’t heard from home.

  She excused herself. “Sorry, I need to check my phone.”

  Nothing. Her shoulders tensed, and her fingers shook as she double-checked for a voice message.

  If something was really wrong, she would have heard. Probably Trish had taken Mum for a walk. That’s all. Silly to panic.

  Please, Lord, keep her safe.

  Things would be fine.

  The care worker looked after Mum every Wednesday when Sarah went to school. A single mum with a ten-year-old lad, Trish showed up late some days or on others phoned needing to leave early. Apart from that, they’d had no problems. Mum seemed to like her.

  Nothing Trish did posed an issue. But a niggling worry over leaving Mum with someone else always lingered. She’d scalded herself making tea. She’d lost her sense of danger and suffered falls. She’d once set the house on fire.

  Sarah didn’t send another text, though she wanted to. Being overanxious was a sure way to annoy a care worker.

  Getting busy again didn’t stop her from worrying about Mum or hearing the low rumble of Fraser’s laughter as he joked with Mary. And all her good intentions to avoid him couldn’t stop her drifting over so she ended up near them as they worked.

  Perhaps she needed him as a distraction now.

  Normally, she stayed home with Mum. Apart from the required hands-on teaching days, she’d managed her course by distance education. She’d never left Mum with the care worker two days in the week.

  “Sarah,” Mary called her over. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to talk to you before. I’ve seen you at the early service, but you disappear before I can get to you. Is that your mother I see you with?”

  The older lady’s bright smile held only kindness, but her eyes, twinkling behind thick glasses, seemed to see further and deeper than felt comfortable.

  “Yes, that’s Mum, and… uh… Sunday is a busy day.”

  Sarah busied herself picking up a sweet wrapper.

  No reason to explain how she hustled Mum away to stop anyone guessing her health problems. The old hymns and prayers she’d known since childhood still stuck in Mum’s mind. She could manage them. Five minutes talking to anyone, and they’d know.

  Mary raised her eyebrows, as if she saw right through Sarah’s prevarication. “Och, never too busy to stop and let us get to know you, lassie. The kirk is for fellowship with other believers, not just worship.”

  All too aware Fraser could hear her answers, Sarah smiled and nodded.

  She’d once believed as Mary did, but people’s attitude at her old church as Mum’s memory worsened changed everything. Mum couldn’t understand why the committees and groups she’d been so active in no longer wanted her. The rejection and snubs deeply pained both of them.

  Moving church was the easiest answer.

  “So why did you choose our church?” Mary didn’t give up easily.

  That, Sarah could answer. “I liked how the kirk offered Messy Church, the alternative sessions for those who don’t quite fit the regular services.”

  The older woman raised her eyebrows. “Are you in that category, dear?”

  Fraser chimed in, saving her the need to answer. “Like Cat, Sarah has a heart for special needs people. She’s great with those kids at school.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll remind you that you said so, next time you tell me to focus on the potential champions instead.”

  She grabbed a discarded soft drink can a little too hard. A metallic crunch and squirt of stale cola emphasised her words.

  Jumping back, Fraser laughed. “Missed. You’ll need to aim a bit better next time.”

  “I will.” She hadn’t been aiming, but maybe she should.

  “Children.” Mary laughed indulgently. “You haven’t changed since I babysat you twenty years ago, Fraser Maclean.”

  He grinned at her. “You still love me. I know I was your favourite.”

  She shook her head. “You’re far too sure of that. Each child is my favourite for some reason or another.” Then she smiled. “Don’t be taken in by him, Sarah. He wants everyone to think he’s got no time for helping anyone else. ‘Anything for a simple uncomplicated life,’” she mimicked Fraser’s line. “He does get involved.”

  “Don’t go shattering her illusions, Mary. I’ve got her convinced I’m all tough and mean.” His lips twitched, creasing the laugh lines around his eyes.

  Mary prodded him in the chest with one bony finger. “Och, like you were so tough and mean when you spent hours teaching me to use a computer in the Silver Surfers’ class? You hide it well, but you have a good heart.” She faced Sarah, lined cheeks bunching in a smile as she patted her hand. “And clearly, so do you. Some of the older church members would rather we didn’t offer the Messy Church group, but I think it’s wonderful.”

  Sarah stifled a smile to hear Mary, who must be in her mid-eighties, talking about older church members. She made the mistake of glancing at Fraser. His wink had her in outright chuckles.

  “Mary, you aren’t old, of course,” he said.

  Sarah drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes to avoid his irresistible grin. Until she met him, keeping her resolve not to date had been easy. Once school broke up for summer, she’d be done with her student teaching. She’d planned never to see him again.

  But she hadn’t counted on Fraser being part of her new church.

  “I need to check on Charlie and Fiona.” Breathless, she darted away.

  A woman who could never marry shouldn’t date and certainly shouldn’t fall in love. She’d known that for years, and how she felt for Fraser Maclean couldn’t change it.

  She simply had to be stronger.

  Chapter Three

  Fraser paused as Sarah moved away, trying not to notice the sway of her hips in those jeans or the way her braid bounced on her back, catching the sunshine with each step.

  Mary Mackay nudged him, her grin far too mischievous for someone her age. “She seems a lovely girl. I think she likes you.”

  He pretended hauling out a part-buried bottle needed all his attention. “We work together, Mary.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t see each other outside work. You’re not her boss, are you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well then, what’s stopping you? You’re too good a man to stay single, Fraser. I’m thinking she needs someone solid like you in her life.”

  He rolled his eyes skyward, though he couldn’t stop his exasperated smile. “I’m the last person Sarah wants in her life. Are you all ganging up on me today? First Ally, then Cat, now you. You know my motto. A Simple—”

  “And Uncomplicated Life. I know.” She shook her head, white curls dancing. “Man was not meant to be alone, God said. Or woman, either. I still miss my dear Duncan.” A sigh rattled her chest.

  He dropped his cleanup kit to give her a hug. Her shoulders felt brittle as dry sticks, so he kept it gentle. “I’m sorry. You had a good marriage, like my parents. Maybe I won’t settle for less. Sarah and I argue all the time.”

  Mary didn’t need to know he’d already asked Sarah out, and each time she’d made an excuse.

  She grinned. “Oh yes, we argued too. By the time you knew Duncan, we’d grown together and mellowed. When we first married, we were as opposite as two people could be. We argued over everything.” Pink tinged her cheeks, and memory clouded her eyes. “But we never went to sleep angry. It’s not the arguing that counts; it’s the making up afterwards. Oh, some grand making up we had.”

  He didn’t dare ask if she m
eant what he thought she meant.

  Despite their debates, he and Sarah made a good teaching team. The kids seemed to do better when she was around. He did better when she was around. Her being there made him push himself that little bit harder.

  But making up after a disagreement the way Mary and Duncan did? Not a chance. If she wouldn’t go for a walk or a climb with him, or even come to after school training with the kids, she’d run a mile from anything more serious.

  And Sarah could run fast.

  He enjoyed their Wednesday lunches and wanted to get to know her better, but if she wasn’t interested, he wasn’t about to push things.

  “I like my life as it is.” He shrugged. “Mum’s not showing she wants to boot me out now I’m the only one left in the nest. Getting married would complicate my life.”

  She smiled knowingly. “Och, you’ve never been in love. Just wait. You’ll change your mind then.”

  Laughing as the bottle he’d struggled with finally came loose, he dumped it into her open sack. “If I do meet the girl who changes my mind, you’ll get a wedding invitation. And a front row seat next to Mum, in your best frock and hat. But you could have a long wait.”

  He stomped on the tiny whisper that he’d already met the girl God wanted him with.

  “I’ll wait.” She dropped a chocolate wrapper in her rubbish bag, frowning. “Is everyone in Edinburgh using the kirk garden as their garbage dump? This bag is getting heavy.”

  He lifted it from her. “So that’s why you made sure to have me walk with you, right?”

  “Thank you. A braw laddie does come in handy.” She smiled up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “So, when did you last walk out with a girl? I haven’t seen you with anyone in church for a while.”

  A chuckle shook him. “I thought we’d dropped my nonexistent love life as a topic?”

  She gave him the grin that rounded her cheeks like wrinkled red apples. Only Mary could get away with being so nosy and not be thought a busybody. Was the whole world determined to see him matched up, now his brother and sister were both married off?

  “It’s been a while. I go out with friends. I’m not into dating for the sake of it.”