She saw him swallow hard. His lips flattened.
“After what you know of me, you’d actually believe that?” He leaned forward and stared at her. “Even a kiss to me means I love you. I take that pretty seriously. I haven’t had sex with any woman, Natalie. God says it’s sin, and I want to go to my marriage bed as pure as my wife. I feel stupid even admitting that to you. Guess I’ve been so careful for no reason, when the woman I love is so quick to think I have no morals.”
Did he just say he loved me? She opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond.
His chair scraped on the floor as he pushed back from the table. “There’s no more to say. Let me take you home.” He left money on the table and headed toward the door.
Silently she rose and followed him to the car. Everything in her wanted to believe him, but it would be stupid to ignore the evidence. She’d seen her mother do it time and time again, each man worse than his predecessor.
“I’m sorry,” she said when he dropped her in front of her house. Her door opened smoothly, and she thought he might ask her if he could stay so he could explain more, but he simply wished her a good night and drove off. She stood and watched until his taillights flashed at the stop sign, then disappeared into the fog.
Her vision blurred. No matter how attracted she was to Carson, she was determined not to be deceived by appearances. Ten years from now she didn’t want to end up in divorce court because she married a man who wasn’t what he seemed on the surface. Swiping the moisture from her cheeks, she took a deep breath and entered her house.
“Is Mia in bed?” she asked Julia.
Her friend nodded. “She was so sweet tonight. She prayed for Carson.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t tell me, but it was cute to hear her talk to God like he was her best friend.” She went toward the door. “How was your date?”
“Don’t ask. I’ll tell you when we’re all together tomorrow.”
Julia hesitated, then nodded. “See you tomorrow. It’s Shelby’s day, so we only have to walk.”
Natalie locked the door behind Julia, then went to check on Mia. The child was sleeping on her side with one arm flung over her head. The covers were twisted. Natalie straightened them, and Mia opened her eyes.
“You’re home,” she said, rubbing her face. “Is Mr. Carson here?”
“No, he left.”
“I tried to stay awake so I could talk to him.”
“You really like Mr. Carson, don’t you?”
“I love him,” Mia said solemnly. “Even if he isn’t my dad.”
So do I. The realization that her feelings were much more than mere attraction made Natalie sink to her knees by the bed. What would Mia think if she knew Carson should be part of her life but had rejected her? What if she heard about the paternity suit? Natalie prayed she would never find out. “Did you have a good time with Julia tonight?”
“Uh-huh.” Mia rolled onto her back. The moonlight touched her sweet face. “We prayed for Mr. Carson too. God told me to.”
“He told you to pray?”
Mia nodded and sat up. “Mr. Carson was sad tonight. It hurts him that people lied about him. I’m going to make sure all my friends know the truth.”
Truth. It sounded like it would be so easy to discern, but it wasn’t always possible to see beneath the smiling surface.
How could Natalie ever tell when to trust and when to dig deeper?
Carson prayed over dinner tonight.
Okay, so her mother’s men never claimed to be Christians.
Still, Natalie had seen her share of hypocrites in her life.
Some had been in her own church.
She sighed and kissed Mia. “Time for sleep, honey.”
“I love you,” Mia said, her eyes already closing.
“Love you most,” Natalie said, knowing she’d get the last word in since Mia’s breathing had already deepened.
She eased out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving only a crack so there was a bit of light. In the sunroom, she dropped onto the sofa and stared into the dark night before sighing and picking up her Bible on the stand beside her. She hadn’t had time to do her devotions this morning. Or rather, she’d let herself get distracted.
The bookmark was in Hebrews. She began to read chapter 11, and the first verse hit her heart.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
She’d seen the evidence of Carson’s life. Did she need more than that? Substance. There was substance in Carson’s life too. He’d told Mia he didn’t care what people said about him.
Maybe he really didn’t care because he knew the truth and where he stood with God.
She wanted to know. Stepping into the unknown scared her, but maybe it was supposed to. Wasn’t that what faith was all about? Still, she didn’t want to be stupid about it. There had been too much of that in her life. She grabbed her concordance and looked up references to faith. The first one she went to was Matthew 8:26.
But He said to them, “Why are you so fearful, O you of little faith?” Then He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.
Fear. That’s what had been ruling her life. She was afraid of being abandoned. Wasn’t there a scripture about perfect love casting out fear? She found it in I John 4:18.
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.
“Help me trust, Lord,” she said, closing her Bible. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t uproot the love she felt for Carson. And fear was what held her back. How could she fix it?
The crowd had gathered on the lawn outside the town hall. Most were careful to avoid the newly planted flowers in the planting bed. The doors would open shortly for the Planning Commission meeting. Natalie glanced at the big green clock.
Ten. The sunshine strengthened her resolve in spite of how many more people were here than she expected.
She hadn’t seen Carson in a week, and her stomach was in knots as she spoke to several people on her way to the door.
She didn’t see Carson’s dark head towering above the crowd, and for a fleeting moment she almost hoped he wouldn’t show up. The janitor was unlocking the entrance when she reached it, and she was the first one to step into the hall. She barely had time to take in the empty room before people crowded in behind her and filled the seats.
This was not going to be as easy as she thought. The other selectpersons took their places at the table on the platform. Carson still wasn’t here. What if he didn’t come? Maybe he didn’t want to be anywhere near her. Her breath whooshed out when she saw him step through the door just before time for the gavel to fall.
He didn’t look at her as he took his seat and banged the gavel. “This meeting is called to order.”
Natalie sat at the end of the table. She glanced at him from time to time as the meeting progressed from approving plans for an ice cream parlor to denying a request for a casino.
Whenever Carson spoke, she saw the townspeople whispering.
They’d heard the news about Lisa suing for support for sure.
It seemed not to bother Carson, but it hurt Natalie. She’d been just as quick to believe it.
She listened with keen interest as various townspeople spoke on ideas to help further the town goals. The hands on her watch crept closer and closer to eleven thirty, when they would have to vacate the room for the meeting of the Parks and Recreation committee.
The gavel came down on the meeting. It was now or never, but she was beginning to wish she’d chosen a different way to do this.
Her knees shaking, she rose. “I have something to say before we dismiss,” she said. Those standing in the audience glanced at her, then sat back down. “I know you’ve heard about my sister, Lisa’s, accusations against Carson Smitten.”
Carson’s head swiveled. His eyes narrowed, but he d
idn’t say anything. The others on the board stared with wary eyes.
“I want to publicly say that I don’t believe Lisa.” She turned and held Carson’s gaze. “All of us know Carson Smitten to be a man of integrity. I’ve learned he is also a godly man and one who takes responsibilities seriously. If he were Mia’s father, he would step up to the plate by himself.”
Carson’s jaw dropped. He half rose, then sank back in his chair, looking stunned. Natalie glanced into the audience.
Several in the room began to nod and whisper. She saw smiles and a few disbelieving expressions.
“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. We’ve always been a close-knit town, one that has believed the best in people. Let’s do that now. Think of what you know about Carson and trust your instincts about him. I should have done the same right from the start.”
One by one, the people began to rise and filter out of the room. Several approached the table and thanked her for being so up front. Others shook Carson’s hand. Natalie wanted to run when she realized she was alone with him, but she hadn’t come this far to turn into a coward at the last minute.
She gathered up her purse and notes and turned as he approached. Everything she wanted to say dried up on her tongue.
His hands were in the pockets of his jeans. “Thanks for that. You didn’t have to do it.”
“I meant it. I realized how wrong I’ve been.” She wetted her lips and stared up at him. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid of becoming my mother and sister.”
“You’re nothing like your mother. Or like Lisa.”
“At some point my mom should have realized she couldn’t trust her instincts.”
“I don’t want this hanging over your head. I had a blood test this morning.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did it for you.” His hands came down on her upper arms. “If you’ll take Mia in to give a sample, you’ll see that the results are negative.”
“I don’t need to do that.” The warmth of his hands on her arms penetrated her blouse and reached her skin. His eyes were so warm, so approving. As if he could see into her soul and loved everything about her. Her pulse jittered in her throat.
His right hand came up to cup her cheek. “So your instincts tell you I’m trustworthy?”
Speechless, she nodded.
“You’ll believe anything I tell you?”
Again she nodded. A smile began to tug at the corner of her lips. Where was he going with this?
“Then believe this, Natalie Mansfield.” His head came down, and his lips captured hers.
The warmth of his lips coaxed a response from her in spite of her fear. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, letting go of her fear and uncertainty. He lifted her off her feet and continued to kiss her until she was breathless.
When he let her feet touch the ground again, he cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Natalie. You can take that to the bank.”
“That’s worth more than my house and bank account combined,” she whispered. “I’m sorry . . .”
He put his fingers on her lips. “I’m sorry we never did this years ago.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
He took her in his arms again, and before all thought fled, she wondered what the girls would say.
Julia: Small Town, Big Dreams
Kristin Billerbeck
CHAPTER ONE
Julia Bourne paced in front of the metal hangar at S mitten’s r egional a irport. There’s nothing to be nervous about, she told herself, but her body wouldn’t comply. No amount of positive thinking would allow her to relax. Her dress, a simple cotton sheath from Tahari’s previous season, clung to her in the sticky June heat. She wished she could stay cool under pressure like one of her New York socialite clients, but Julia wore her nerves like a conspicuous piece of jewelry.
It was bad enough she’d had to endure the stares of the town as she walked about in stilettos, but to convince Devlin Stovich that Smitten was ready for an upscale spa seemed utterly ridiculous at the moment. One local coffee shop and a few dessert places didn’t exactly scream Fifth Avenue. She felt like a child wobbling about in her mother’s high heels, and her hometown felt like preschool next to the sophistication of New York City. At that moment she wanted to abandon the whole scheme and beg Devlin to let her have her job back.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Julia’s mom still needed her. Smitten’s mill was closed now, and all that remained of the once bustling logging town were the Sugarcreek Mountain Ski Resort ten minutes outside of town and one square block of struggling but infinitely quaint shops and a few modest inns. Julia and her friends were convinced that the town’s only hope of success was to redefine itself as a romantic destination, worthy of hometown hero and country singing sensation Sawyer Smitten’s Hollywood-style wedding. Any romantic destination needed what Smitten had to offer: gorgeous scenery, outdoor activities for both summer and winter, and, naturally, a high-end spa. She tried to summon her friend Natalie’s enthusiasm for the future as she waited.
Julia held her breath as the Learjet glided elegantly onto the runway, the same way a flock of geese landed on a summer lake. She tugged at the collar of her fitted dress and wished she’d worn something more appropriate for life in Smitten. Devlin would know it was last season’s dress, and there was no sense putting on airs when asking for money and his support. Reality required a certain humility. She needed to stay in Smitten for her parents’ sake, and Smitten needed to find a new industry for its future. Tourism seemed the logical choice.
The private jet unfolded from its side like a metal yawn and thrust down a set of stairs. Julia’s heart pounded at the sight of Devlin’s tall, intimidating frame. He’d come without an entourage, and for that she felt grateful.
Even her best friends didn’t understand the honor of socialite Devlin visiting their town, but the full weight of it pressed on Julia. She paced some more and practiced the breathing techniques Devlin had taught her for dealing with a particularly difficult client. Breathe in, hold for three seconds, exhale deeply, forcing out the air. To Smitten, Devlin was just another prospective businessman. To anyone in the spa business, he was a rock star. She watched him leave the plane.
Devlin Stovich’s awkward looks worked for him. His dirty blond locks curled around his strong jawline. There was almost a comical air to him, as if he were playing a 1950s Julius Caesar role, but his charm gave him that “it” factor that invited awe and commanded respect. He always wore silky black slacks with a black turtleneck, like a theater arts major. In the summer he switched out his turtleneck with a short-sleeved knit—also in black. Whenever he left the spa, he threw a gray linen sport coat over his uniform, and what seemed a lack of creativity became fashion-forward. For as trendy as he appeared in Manhattan’s Upper East Side, he looked equally ridiculous in Smitten.
She’d lost sight of him, when suddenly large hands surrounded her waist and lifted her up from the floor, twirled her around full circle, and placed her back down in her original spot.
Devlin laughed heartily. “I will never get tired of that, lifting that lithe, tiny figure. Julia, you are the picture of health.” He kissed her on both cheeks, as was his custom. “I think country life agrees with you. Look at your skin.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “It’s like pure springwater. I wish I could take credit for it, but in Manhattan we can only work with what we have, and we’ll never have this clear air.”
“You can take credit for my skin. I’m using all your products, and it doesn’t hurt that I learned from the best.”
“Always my best cheerleader. It’s so dreary in the spa without your perky personality.” He gripped both of her hands. “Come back to me.”
“Is that a marriage proposal?” she answered flirtatiously.
Devlin grinned. “I’m not the marrying kind, Julia, or I might say yes. I see far too many beautiful women in a day to
stay true to one. But if I were going to stay true, you’d be my girl.”
“Such an offer. Too bad I’m not a gambling woman.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I saw the size of this town from the air. An upscale spa here?” He shook his head and stared across the expansive but empty parking lot. “One of my estheticians will quit eventually. You can come back to New York then.”
She frowned. “I’ve made a commitment, Dev. Smitten needs me. Manhattan needs you. We have to face that what we have is unrequited love,” she joked in her best dramatic voice.
“I miss you, Julia. You always manage to see the beauty in everyone. That’s what I saw when I discovered you behind the makeup counter at Nordstrom. The way you had with people. You had that old woman on the stool, do you remember?”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
“She was not an attractive woman, clearly a tourist from the heartland. She didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, and I think she was wearing sweatpants. You used eye makeup on her, and the blue of her eyes was suddenly obvious to me. I’ll never forget that. I saw her.”
Julia couldn’t help but feel sorry for Devlin and how much his prejudice kept him from seeing. “All your clients are beautiful. I don’t see what you thought I could add.”
“You saw potential in average people. It made me realize I might be missing clientele who would feel comfortable with you. You could take Quasimodo and find something about him that’s attractive.”
She couldn’t find her voice. Quasimodo equated with a woman who didn’t dress in St. John knits and fill her face with Botox? She would never understand how Devlin saw the world—or she prayed she wouldn’t, anyway. She wanted to tell him that not noticing “normals” was pure narcissism on his part, and noticing them not any extraordinary ability at all. But that wouldn’t serve her purpose, so she kept her mouth shut.
Devlin walked outside the hangar and into the parking lot, where he shielded his eyes. “Like this place. I see the natural beauty. But, Julia, what do you do here with your days in the middle of nowhere?”
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