by Irene Hannon
Clay scrutinized the blond-haired man. His wife had joined him now, bouncing their baby on her shoulder. Dan tousled the little one’s head and leaned over to kiss his wife’s forehead. They were the picture of a loving family.
“For the record, I don’t much care for people who hurt the ones I love.”
Picking up the warning in the older man’s tone, Clay leveled a steady look in his direction. “I feel the same way.”
Pop perused him in silence, then gave a slow nod. “That’s good to know.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Cate hitched a ride with me this morning. But Joe, my buddy from the garden club, asked me to take in a movie tonight. I’d sure like to go.”
“I could give her a lift home.”
“I was hoping you could.” There was a twinkle in the older man’s eyes.
He started to walk away, but Clay put a hand his arm. “Thanks, Pop.”
A smile touched the corners of the older man’s lips. “Sometimes you just have to trust your heart.”
As Pop strolled away, Clay downed the rest of his soda and regarded Dan Maxwell again. He understood Pop’s feelings about Cate’s one-time suitor. He shared them. Cate didn’t deserve to be hurt, and he didn’t have much respect or tolerance for anyone who had caused her pain.
Yet might he be setting himself up to do the same? he wondered. He hadn’t made any secret about his attraction to her, and he was pretty sure it was mutual. But what if things heated up and he got scared? He could end up jilting her, as Dan had. And that wasn’t good. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the lovely woman who had added such joy to his life.
Scanning the women setting out the food for the potluck supper, Clay had no trouble spotting Cate, with her mane of blond hair. She was cutting a layer cake at the dessert table.
Suddenly she glanced up, as if she’d sensed his scrutiny across the lawn, and her hand stilled. She was too far away for him to read her eyes, but he didn’t imagine the jolt of electricity that arced between them.
A soft blush turned her peaches-and-cream complexion pink, and she froze. A few charged seconds ticked by, and then she tucked her hair behind her ear and went back to work.
Crushing the empty aluminum can in his hand, Clay drew a long, steadying breath. His instincts told him to ignore the warning signs flashing in his mind. But his innate sense of honor wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t act on his feelings unless he came to grips with his commitment phobia and put to rest the fear that he wasn’t husband material.
But how was he supposed to do that?
Pray.
The single word echoed in his mind—perhaps triggered by his conversation with Pastor Bob, he theorized. But it wasn’t a bad idea. And he didn’t have any better ones.
Turning away from the crowd converging on the food tables, Clay tipped his head back and focused on the blue expanse of sky.
Lord, please guide me. I don’t want to hurt Cate. But I’m beginning to believe she and I were meant to be together. Help me overcome my fears and give me the courage to follow my heart, trusting You to steady me if I falter. And please help Cate deal with whatever is holding her back, too. Because I sense her obstacles are as potent as my fears.
Cate felt as if she’d just run a marathon.
Shifting away from the group of women setting out casseroles on the long table next to hers, she began to divvy up the slices of cake among paper plates as she struggled to catch her breath.
No longer could she dodge the truth. Not after those amazing few seconds, when one look at Clay had short-circuited her vital signs.
She had to face the facts.
Despite her vow to keep her distance, the handsome engineer who’d come to town to build a manufacturing plant had also managed to build a bridge between their hearts.
And that was dangerous.
Or was it?
For the first time, Cate allowed for the possibility that maybe her heart didn’t need protecting. From Clay, anyway. Over the past few months, as she’d watched this man who’d claimed to be rootless, anti-religion and commitment-averse move to a house, connect with a church and take responsibility for two traumatized children, putting their needs above his own, he’d shaken her resolve to steer clear of romance. From everything she could see, Clay Adams was a good, decent man well worth the risk of loving.
But she’d thought the same about Dan.
And paid the consequences.
“Everything okay, Cate?”
Her hand jerked, and a piece of cake plopped icing-side-down on the Formica-topped table.
“Hi, Marge.” She shot the picnic chairwoman an apologetic glance. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry about this.” It took her two attempts to scoop up the cake. Not because one of her hands had limited use, but because both were trembling. A fact the gray-haired woman had no doubt noticed, Cate concluded in dismay.
“No problem. We have cake coming out our ears. You sure you’re okay? The heat’s not getting to you, is it?” The woman fanned herself with her hand and shook her head. “Could Pastor Bob have picked a hotter day?”
Disposing of the cake in a nearby trash can, Cate wiped her hands on a napkin and latched onto Marge’s explanation. “It’s pretty intense for the end of June. I think I’ll grab a cup of lemonade.”
“Good idea. Then get a plate of food for yourself before it’s all gone. We’ve got one hungry crew here.”
The woman moved away, and Cate gave the table one more swipe to erase any lingering evidence of her faux pas. Risking a peek across the lawn, she noted that Clay remained apart from the group, his back to her. He was looking up, his posture contemplative.
As if he was praying.
Was that possible? she wondered. While his attitude toward religion had softened, she didn’t think he’d yet put the power of prayer to work in his life.
But whether he had or not, it was time she did, Cate resolved.
Because the decisions she faced in the coming weeks were too big for her to handle alone.
“Sorry Pop cornered you about giving me a lift. I could have hitched a ride with someone else in my family.” Cate retrieved her purse from the floor of Clay’s truck as he pulled into a parking space in front of her condo.
“I didn’t mind the detour.” He set the brake and checked out Josh and Emily over his shoulder. They were sound asleep in their car seats, and his mouth softened into a smile. “Looks like I won’t be missed if I walk you to your door.”
Cate shifted around to observe the youngsters in the deepening twilight. “Josh missed his nap, and Emily was wired all day. But they had a blast playing with all the other kids. They’ll sleep well tonight.”
“So will their uncle.” Clay grinned and unbuckled his seat belt. “Sit tight.”
Half a minute later, he pulled open her door and she swiveled in the seat. Rather than let her struggle out of the high cab, he reached up and circled her slender waist with his hands. As he swung her to the ground, she instinctively grasped his shoulders.
She felt good in his arms, he reflected, as he stared down into her wide, clear eyes. Soft and feminine and oh-so-appealing. He wouldn’t mind standing like this for the rest of the night.
Or the rest of his life, he realized.
Only when she gently attempted to pull away did he release her.
“You can say goodbye here, Clay.” There was a hint of panic in her voice. “Take the kids home and get some rest.”
“I’ll rest better if I’m sure you’re safe inside.
He thought she was going to object, but in the end, with a shrug of capitulation, she acquiesced. Taking her arm, he fell into step beside her, shortening his stride to match hers.
“Sorry. I’m a bit slow tonight.” Her apology came out breathless.
“I’m in no hurry.”
In the four months he’d known Cate, he could never remember her being this nervous. He could feel the apprehension radiating from her as they approached her door. Heard her keys rattling in her ha
nd as she withdrew them from her purse. Saw the quiver in her fingers as she tried twice to slip her key into the lock before succeeding. It was obvious the moment on the church lawn was etched in her memory, as it was in his.
“Hey. It’s okay.” His words came out in a husky whisper as he stroked her arm below the sleeve of her soft knit shirt.
Slowly she lifted her head from the lock to focus on his fingers against her skin. “It doesn’t feel okay.”
“You don’t like this?” He continued to stroke her arm.
“What h-happened to our hands-off agreement?”
She’d avoided his question, he noted. Meaning she liked his touch. But she was scared.
Forcing himself to break contact, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I think we should revisit it.”
When she at last lifted her chin and allowed him to look into her eyes, he saw conflict, fear and yearning. It was impossible to tell which was stronger. But the pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat and her soft, parted lips called out to him.
Earlier, he’d prayed for the courage to follow his heart. So without agonizing further, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers.
He half expected her to pull away. But she didn’t move. Instead, much to his surprise, she kissed him back. Thoroughly.
Clay stretched the kiss out as long as he dared, resisting the temptation to let it escalate. Finally, calling on every ounce of his willpower, he drew back long before he was ready to release her.
For several seconds, her eyes remained closed, the long sweep of her lashes resting on her fair skin. When at last they fluttered open, her pupils were a bit dilated. She swallowed. Blinked. Took a deep breath.
“That wasn’t fair.” Her whispered comment was ragged.
“I followed the rules.” He leaned back a little and wiggled his fingers, still in his pockets. “Hands off.”
“In letter only.”
He conceded the point with a shrug. “Are you sorry?”
“I don’t know.” She folded her arms across her chest and eased away, a frown marring her smooth brow. “Pursuing this could be a mistake. For both of us.”
“Why?”
She shook her head and fumbled for the handle of the door behind her. “It’s too complicated to go into tonight.”
“We need to talk about this, Cate. I know there are issues. Our backgrounds are different. And when we met, our approach to life was different, too. But a lot of things have changed over the past few months.”
“This isn’t the time for that discussion. I’m going to hold you to your promise about tabling it until after the custody issue is resolved. I need some space to think things through.”
Clay wanted to press, but his instincts told him to back off. Weeks ago, Cate had said she wasn’t willing to risk testing their compatibility. It was clear she still considered him a risky proposition. And she might be right, he admitted. Before he dived into romance, he needed to be absolutely sure about his intentions. While he was close to accepting the notion of commitment, he wasn’t there yet.
And it was clear the woman across from him suspected that.
“Okay.” He stepped back. “We’ll do this your way. Goodnight, Cate.”
Returning to his truck, he climbed into the driver’s seat and checked on the kids. Still snoozing, he noted, one corner of his mouth twitching. No surprise there. As Cate had pointed out, after their exhausting day they’d no doubt sleep like logs all night.
He was tired, too. But he had a strong suspicion his two little charges would greet the morning a whole lot more rested than he would.
Chapter Thirteen
“We have a court date, Clay. August fourth in Omaha.”
At Mark’s news, Clay flipped to the next page in his calendar, juggling the phone as he jotted a note on the day the court would decide whether he could keep Josh and Emily. A month away. His gut clenched and he leaned forward in his desk chair, every muscle tense. “Is there anything else we can do while we wait?”
“I’ve checked all the references you provided. Your military record is outstanding, and your boss speaks well of you. I also talked with Reverend Richards, as you suggested. His endorsement will have a lot of impact. The only loose end is the job situation. Have you had any luck finding a position that requires less travel? The judge will ask about that.”
“Yeah. I talked to my boss. Our work in the St. Louis area is increasing, and they’re thinking of opening a branch in the city. He said the area supervisor position is mine if the expansion goes through, but that won’t be decided for several months. If it doesn’t happen, I’ll find a more stable job.”
“Let’s hope that satisfies the judge. Also, I just got a copy of the report from the social worker. You passed with flying colors.”
Clay let out a long breath. “That’s the best news I’ve had in weeks.”
“I think we have a good case, Clay. Try not to lose sleep over this.”
As he hung up, Clay wished he could follow Mark’s advice. But until he had official papers in his hand saying Josh and Emily belonged with him, he knew he wouldn’t rest easy.
“Hey, Clay, thanks again for helping with the pavilion. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Clay looked up from his seat on a blanket on the church grounds, searching his memory for the name of the man who’d worked on the building crew the prior weekend. “I was glad to help, Ralph. But you people did all the real work.”
The man chuckled. “My father wasn’t much of a handyman, but he swung a mean hammer. At least I learned how to pound a nail in straight.” He inspected the pavilion, where Reverend Richards had conducted a special Fourth of July service in conjunction with the dedication of the structure. “Turned out real fine. Well, enjoy your picnic.”
As the man headed back to his family, Clay scanned the church grounds. Members of the congregation had brought picnic dinners to enjoy after the service and dedication, and several had stopped to thank Clay for his help with the project. That sense of belonging was a new experience for him, one he’d always taken great pains to avoid. But it didn’t feel at all confining or uncomfortable, as he’d expected. On the contrary. It felt good.
“I like this.” Emily held up her fork to examine the spiral noodle she’d speared. “What is it?”
“Pasta salad,” Cate told her, directing a smile toward Clay. “And I second that. The food is great.”
“I can’t claim any credit for it. I threw myself on the mercy of a nice older woman at the deli on Main Street. She put the menu together.” He hadn’t been sure Cate would accept his invitation to join them for the picnic. Not with things unsettled between them. But he hadn’t exactly played fair by inviting her in front of the children. As he’d expected, they’d pleaded with her to say yes. And she found their entreaties as hard to refuse as he did.
“That would be Linda,” Cate supplied. “This has her touch.”
“Better hers than mine. You wouldn’t want to eat anything I’d concoct.” Clay gave her a rueful grin.
“You cook good,” Josh said loyally. “I like your spaghetti.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Chuckling, he tousled the youngster’s hair. “But it’s hard to go wrong with sauce from a jar.”
“It’s still good,” Josh insisted.
Cate checked her watch. “Why don’t we pack up and head down to the river? We can stake out a good spot for the fireworks and have our dessert while the band plays.”
“Sounds good to me,” Clay agreed.
Once everything was stowed in the cooler, Clay stood and held out a hand to Cate. After a momentary hesitation, she took it and he pulled her to her feet in one smooth, effortless motion.
“I’m sorry, Cate. I should have brought lawn chairs.” He kept a firm grip on her slender fingers while she got her balance. “Sitting on the ground wasn’t the best idea.”
“I like picnics on the grass.” She tugged her hand free and turned to brush some dried gr
ass off Josh’s bottom, avoiding eye contact with Clay.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I hope you like fireworks on the grass, too. We’re in the same boat there.”
“I’ll be fine.”
But half an hour later, as they chose a spot in the park by the river and he spread the blanket on the ground again, he once more regretted his oversight. Cate managed without complaint, but he knew getting up and down wasn’t easy for her.
She remained on the blanket while the kids dragged him to the concession stand for ice cream cones, and when they returned she was chatting with some members of the congregation who had also gone on to the park. The steady parade of visitors continued until the sky darkened and the fireworks display began.
As he watched the bursts of color overhead, it occurred to Clay that if someone had told him six months ago what he’d be doing on this Fourth of July, he’d have laughed. He’d have been sure he’d be spending this holiday like he spent every other—alone, and probably working.
Instead, he’d gone to a religious service. Had a picnic on the lawn of a church. Conversed with countless people he hadn’t known six months ago and who now considered him one of their own. He was also responsible for the two little children cuddled up beside him, their eyes wide with wonder at the dazzling display.
And then there was Cate, who’d filled his life with light as surely as the fireworks were illuminating the night sky.
Her head was tipped back as she sat beside him, her expression as enraptured as Emily’s and Josh’s. Her ability to find joy in simple, everyday pleasures—despite disappointments that would have turned many people cynical and bitter—was one of the things he loved about her.
Love.
The word jolted him, and for a second he stopped breathing. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to attach the L word to Cate. But he suspected the connection had been there for quite a while.