The Timeless Love Romance Collection

by Dianne Christner

  “They’re darling. About four years old?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” Willa indulged herself with one last glimpse of the towheaded cherubs. “I hardly expected you to notice the girls, much less be able to guess their age.”

  “Is that so? You think I’m the strong, silent type, eh? Maybe like Humphrey Bogart?”

  “Not quite as tough as all that,” she admitted.

  “I guess I have a soft spot for little tykes. I have a niece and nephew back in Maryland. I miss them a lot.”

  Willa hadn’t thought about Garrison in the context of a beloved uncle until that moment. Stealing a glance his way, she realized that beneath the ruggedly handsome exterior, he must have a tender side. Suddenly she could imagine him giving a little boy an encouraging pat on the back or smoothing a little girl’s hair as she cried. Willa discovered she liked that image of Garrison.

  A catcall rudely interrupted her daydream. A couple of hoodlums known to cause trouble in the local high school were having a laugh at Goodie Woodie’s expense. Garrison’s lips tensed.

  “Don’t mind them,” Willa consoled him. “They’re always looking for an excuse to make fun of people.”

  “Let’s just hope they don’t decide to vandalize the car. A machine like this isn’t easy to hide, you know.”

  “Don’t worry. They’re more bark than bite.” At that moment, Willa was actually glad to see someone else she knew. She waved vigorously. “Hello, Dorothy!”

  Dorothy’s eyes widened in question, followed by recognition, followed by the realization that Willa was sitting where Dorothy wished she could be. Dorothy returned her greeting, but she looked none too happy. For the first time, Willa felt she had finally gotten one over on her rival.

  Garrison looked amused. Knowing her feelings were strictly human and did nothing to glorify the Lord, Willa was grateful that Garrison chose not to question the source of her glee.

  Not that he would have had much time to grill her. Two blocks later, he pulled the car over and parked on the edge of the Prairie Center Park. The term “park” was a bit grandiose for the tiny plot of land, but the Prairie County Garden Club took great pride in maintaining the little piece of shaded green paradise.

  “This is it,” said Garrison.

  “This is what?”

  “This is where we’ll be eating.”

  “But I thought we were going to a restaurant.”

  “I could tell by the way you dressed.” He looked sheepish. “I started to say something when I first saw you, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. I know women like eating at fancy places, but why drive all the way into a stuffy, crowded place in Kansas City when we can eat in God’s great outdoors?” Before she could ask anything more, Garrison hurried to the back end of the wagon and opened the door. From underneath a blanket, he retrieved a picnic basket. Holding it up to show Willa, he reminded her of a little kid who’d managed to pull one over on his mama.

  Grinning from ear to ear, Garrison tapped the basket with his forefinger. “Besides, this is the best food in Prairie County.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “I cooked it myself,” he informed her as he slammed the door shut.

  “A great cook. And modest too.”

  Garrison opened Willa’s door. “You said it! I’m quite a catch!”

  Willa slid out of the car and tapped him on the shoulder. “Oh, you!”

  As they both giggled, Garrison led her to a level spot and spread a pristine white tablecloth on the lush grass.

  “What are you doing? You’ll ruin your beautiful cloth!”

  “Now don’t you worry. That’s what bleach is for.”

  “And he does laundry too!” Willa nodded as though she’d just agreed to buy a brand new washing machine.

  “Much to my regret. I have to admit, I normally wouldn’t bring you out here, but I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to take you to my house where we’d be alone. Especially since you’ve got strapping brothers ready to defend your honor.”

  Willa could see from Garrison’s expression that he was only half joking. Though she was a grown woman, Willa could hardly blame her brothers for wanting to protect her, especially after the way Dirk had treated her. Ron, being the youngest, was adept at letting troubles slide. Don was another matter. As the eldest of the three, he felt responsible for his siblings since both parents had gone home to the Lord. Papa had passed away only a little more than a year ago. At least he had seen both of his sons return home from the war safely.

  While her brothers were physically whole, Willa knew that emotionally, Ron had a lot of growing up left to do. She felt in her heart he would keep close to the Lord. Don was another matter. She was troubled that Don seemed to want to do everything for himself. He didn’t take solace in the Lord the way Willa could.

  More troubling, Don was far more bitter about Dirk than Willa herself. Whenever she thought of Dirk, all Willa had to do was to remember how brutally the Lord was betrayed by one of his closest friends and disciples, Judas. For a mere thirty pieces of silver, Judas had handed Jesus over to the authorities, resulting in His crucifixion. How facile her troubles seemed in comparison! No wonder, since Jesus had said in the Gospel of Matthew, “For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

  “So how do you like it?”

  “Like it?” Jerked back into the present, Willa suddenly remembered she was picnicking with a new man. She forced herself to look at the food set on the cloth. Garrison had prepared an assortment of fresh fruits, a cut of beef cooked to medium rare perfection, a creamy potato salad, and bread that emitted the appealing aroma of yeast. “It looks delicious!”

  “Of course. You don’t think I run a catering business without knowing my way around the kitchen, do you?” He picked up a plain white plate made of thick china and spooned her a helping of each dish. “But the real test is the taste.” He handed her the plate. “See what you think.”

  “Would you mind saying a word of grace first?” Willa asked.

  “Of course not.” A slight pink tinged his cheeks. “What was I thinking?” He bowed his head and led them in prayer.

  Willa smiled. “Thank you, Garrison.” She took a delicate bite of the potato salad, which proved to be as creamy in her mouth as it had looked on the plate. “Delicious!” As she tasted each morsel, she complimented the chef.

  Willa could see she pleased Garrison with her unqualified approval. Together they enjoyed the rest of the sumptuous feast. Willa let her mind drift away from the past and enjoyed conversing in the present. Garrison proved easy company once he dropped his half-teasing manner and began to share his real thoughts and feelings with her. By the end of the meal, the stars were peeking out from the curtain of night, and Willa felt as though she had known Garrison for a lifetime.

  If only it could have been like this with Dirk.

  “You know,” Garrison was saying, “I guess we’ll have to see each other during the week from now on.”

  “Why?”

  “All the weddings, you know. Would you believe I have every weekend booked for the next three months?”

  With that, Willa broke into sobs.

  Chapter 4

  Now, now. It’s not so bad.” Garrison placed his hand in the small of her back to console her. “We can still see each other. After all, there are five weekdays and only two days on the weekends.”

  Willa didn’t know whether to laugh or to sob even more. Garrison’s overconfidence would be enough to turn off some women, but to Willa, it was part of his charm. At that moment, she knew she was anything but charming. An instant ago, she had been merrily chatting as though she had not a care in the world. And now here she was, sobbing so much that her shoulders were shaking. Garrison retrieved a crisp white handkerchief from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. How had she managed to embarrass herself so?

  “You don’t understand,” Willa mumbled in between sniffles. She blew her nose. The indelicate sound caused her even fur
ther chagrin.

  “Of course I do.” He put his arm around her, but Willa took his hand in hers and gently removed it.

  “No, you don’t understand. No one does. But thank you for trying.” She rose halfway, letting her knees touch the tablecloth. Eager for any distraction, she began gathering the silverware. “Just let me help you put these things away. I need to go home.” Following her own suggestion, she placed the dish in the basket with more care than needed.

  Garrison joined her in the task, but not without wearing a quizzical expression. He sent a sympathetic glance her way several times. Pursed lips and questioning eyes revealed that he desperately wanted to say something, but Willa made sure to look unyielding when he seemed ready to speak. Sure, she’d made a friend in Garrison, but she wasn’t ready to share her humiliation and utter heartbreak with him. Not now. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

  Later on the ride home, Willa didn’t bother to look out the window to see if anyone noticed Goodie Woodie. Her mind was much too heavy. The concerns of only hours before—was her dress right, why did Ron have to insult her date—suddenly seemed trivial.

  Continuing to be the gentleman, Garrison escorted her to the front door once they had reached the big yellow house. The living-room light was burning, indicating at least one of her brothers was already home. Under normal circumstances, Willa might have invited Garrison in for a tall glass of lemonade to offer cooling relief from the heat of the August night. Yet she found herself in no mood to display the minimum of good manners. Garrison paused expectantly for only a moment. Seeing that no invitation was forthcoming, he bid her a dejected farewell.

  Willa remained on the porch and watched Goodie Woodie depart. She had only made one promise to herself—to be a good dinner companion. She had failed miserably even at that small task. Anyone could see why Dirk hadn’t wanted her. After tonight, she was sure Garrison never would, either. Sighing, she opened the door and slid into the house, making sure the hinge didn’t squeak. She was in no humor to be grilled by her brothers. She didn’t want to think about anything related to her date. All she wanted to do was to go to bed. In the morning after a sound slumber, things were bound to look better. As Scarlet O’Hara of Gone with the Wind fame would say, “Tomorrow is another day.”

  Garrison put away the food that was left over from the disastrous picnic. The chore was accomplished by rote, not because he put any extra effort into it. He was too engrossed in thought. What had happened with Willa?

  The time was early, barely past nine. He wasn’t sleepy enough to call it a night. When he’d planned his little surprise, he’d figured the evening would last until well past ten. He had anticipated after the meal that Willa would invite him into her house for a glass of tea and a chat or to share her favorite radio program. Such an invitation hadn’t happened, much to his disappointment.

  Aimlessly he walked into the den, a cubbyhole in the back of the house beside the expansive kitchen. Though he hadn’t occupied the place long, Garrison relished retreating to the comfort of his little corner of the world. The house hadn’t been spruced up since it had been rented out years ago—as a favor to a family in need, for a dollar a year. Garrison was nevertheless grateful that the former occupants had left each window dressed in floral chintz. Though not to his taste, the curtains at least offered some privacy and relief from the sun.

  A large radio occupied the part of the south wall that wasn’t composed of windows. He could tell from a water stain on the hardwood floor that, at one time, the southern exposure was used to its full capacity to nourish thriving plants. Perhaps if he’d planned to stay more than a couple of months, Garrison would have bought one or two green things of his own, just to add life to the old place. For the moment, the radio was his only consolation. Yet his frame of mind left him in no humor to listen to a show. Not swing music, soap operas, or serials. He doubted even the Burns and Allen Radio Program could lift his spirits.

  What had happened to Willa? She’d dressed for a big night out in Kansas City, but she hadn’t sulked or pouted when she’d discovered he had other plans. In fact, during the meal, she’d chattered and laughed as though she were having a grand time. So why did she burst out into sobs when he told her he was busy for the next three months? His ego would have liked him to believe she was already so head over heels in love with him that the mere thought of their being apart made her go into a spasm, but he knew that simply wasn’t the case. Something else had distressed her. But what?

  Why did he waste his time worrying? After all, he’d be out of Prairie Center in fewer than six months. Because of Willa’s outburst, he had missed his chance to tell her that he had only booked catering jobs for the next three months and had made no engagements after that. The income would allow him to buy what he needed to upgrade the house enough to appeal to prospective buyers. Once the work was done, he and Goodie Woodie would head back to Maryland.

  He made a mental checklist of his “to do” list. The wood stove and icebox were out of date, but they still worked. He had no plans to replace either. The bathroom had a leaky faucet. A few floor planks were loose here and there. Garrison had no doubt he’d find other minor repairs to make as he readied the house to be shown to potential buyers. Thankfully, repairs should be easily accomplished on the weekdays he didn’t have events to cater. The rest of the changes he planned for the six-bedroom house were cosmetic. A little paint here, a bit of polish there, and the property would be ready.

  Garrison had no doubt the house would sell quickly. The surrounding farmland had been sold off in pieces some time ago, so now the three building lots the house occupied were more suited to living in the small community of Prairie Center than for grazing cattle. He knew its location was prime. On the edge of town, the house was still the most impressive home within walking distance of local businesses. Garrison had hired two seniors from Prairie County High School to do what he considered the hardest job, painting the exterior. He had chosen a fresh white, which would be set off by cranberry shutters and trim. His real estate agent had assured him that the color combination, while hardly original or daring, would boost appeal to most buyers.

  He let out a sigh. Too bad he’d be leaving so soon. Willa was a nice girl, one he would make time for if he knew he was going to stay. Then again, maybe if she decided she liked him enough, she’d be willing to think about moving back East with him. Home to Maryland, the land of rolling hills, beaches, and crab cakes.

  Garrison shook his head, willing his daydream to stop. What was he thinking? He’d somehow offended her so much that he doubted she’d want to see him again anyway. Besides, she was a sweet, genuine, hometown girl with deep family roots in Prairie Center. Why would she even consider leaving?

  “It’s no use dwelling on what can never be.” Garrison sighed.

  The clock on the fireplace mantle told him that the time had come for a local radio program he’d come to enjoy, Words of the Bible with Pastor Elworth Meadows. Pastor Meadows was surveying Genesis, teaching stories that Garrison already knew by heart. Even so, he was amazed that no matter how many times he revisited a passage, he took away something new.

  Pastor Meadows instructed his listeners to turn to Genesis 24 and read:

  And it came to pass, before he had done speaking, that, behold, Rebekah came out, who was born to Bethuel, son of Milcah, the wife of Nahor, Abraham’s brother, with her pitcher upon her shoulder. And the damsel was very fair to look upon, a virgin, neither had any man known her: and she went down to the well, and filled her pitcher, and came up. And the servant ran to meet her, and said, Let me, I pray thee, drink a little water of thy pitcher. And she said, Drink, my lord: and she hasted, and let down her pitcher upon her hand, and gave him drink. And when she had done giving him drink, she said, I will draw water for thy camels also, until they have done drinking.

  Garrison didn’t hear the sermon. His mind wandered instead to Willa. No matter how many reasons he could think up as to why she would be opposed to a relatio
nship with him, Garrison still felt a tugging at his heart. Could the Lord have sent him to Kansas in part to find the woman who would be his bride? And if He did, was Willa the one He had chosen?

  Garrison prayed he would soon find out.

  Willa was just about to take the first sip of her big glass of cherry Coca-Cola at the drugstore counter when she spotted Garrison striding toward her seat. As much as she wanted to run away, she was helpless. He’d already seen her. It was too late to escape.

  “I’ll have what’s she’s having,” Garrison instructed Rodney. Garrison took the stool next to Willa’s and swiveled it in her direction. “How’re things with you?”

  Willa wished she could pretend she hadn’t heard him, but she didn’t see how she could. Besides, his curly black hair, smelling sweetly of Jervis hair tonic, gave him an appealingly boyish look. His smile was too endearing to resist. And those eyes! “The same, I guess.” She took in a breath. Might as well get the apology out of the way. “About the other night …”

  His hand swatted the air as if dismissing an annoying fly. “There’s nothing to apologize for. If I had a nickel for every time I felt a little blue, I’d be a rich man.”

  Willa wanted to protest that she never should have been so rude and that Garrison had, in fact, done nothing to upset her. As she watched Rodney mixing Garrison’s soda, she noticed he seemed a bit too interested in their conversation. Unwilling to speak further, she took another sip of her drink.

  “I’m surprised to see you out this time of day,” Garrison commented. “I thought you’d be at work. Maybe teaching school or something.”

  At that moment, Willa remembered that they never had gotten around to talking about her career. The conversation had flowed as though they’d known each other for years, so the usual getting-to-know-you chat never happened. “So I appear to be a schoolmarm, huh? Not sure I like that.”

  “Oh, not all of my teachers were so bad, if I remember right.” He looked dreamily at the ceiling. “I seem to recall an English teacher, Miss Swanson. She was swell. And a good sport about the frogs we put in her desk.”