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The Valentine Verse: A Contemporary Christian Romance

Page 15

by JoAnn Durgin


  Vara’s gaze drifted to the bay window where the snow continued to fall.

  Fresh new beginnings.

  Morning by morning new mercies I see.

  Indeed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Five minutes later, after Thornton had explained in more detail—not information overload but enough for Vara to better understand the deep love he had for his work—she looked over at him in amazement. “The Navy is blessed to have you designing their helicopter prototype.”

  “Thanks.” His eyes met hers. “I appreciate that.”

  “And I solemnly swear not to compromise your design no matter how much they torture me.”

  “Good to know.” Thornton’s eyes crinkled with humor over the rim of his purple and gold Vikings mug.

  “So, you’re a Vikings fan.” Vara grinned. “I guess that goes with the territory.”

  “Yes, I’m a Vikings fan, as painful as it is. We’ll keep chanting ‘Skol Vikings!’ and hope it finally kicks in.” He waggled his brows. “Mark my words, one day the Lombardi Trophy will be ours.”

  “They haven’t won a Super Bowl? That surprises me. I would have thought they’d won several.”

  “Sadly, no. They won an NFL championship back in 1969 before the league merged with the AFL. Since the merger, they’ve qualified for the playoffs 26 times, the third most times in the league.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “Impressive doesn’t win a Lombardi Trophy. They’ve played in four Super Bowls without winning.”

  “My sympathies.” What was it with men? Did they ever really learn that winning isn’t everything? “You can take heart in the victories of the long-suffering Boston Red Sox and Chicago Cubs in winning the World Series. It can happen.”

  Thornton shook his head. “Good try, but that’s no consolation. At least the Twins won three World Series championships but not since 1991.”

  “Then I’d say they’re due. What does the catchphrase ‘Skol, Vikings!’ mean…or is it better not to ask?”

  “It’s fairly brutal. Think you can handle it?”

  “I won’t know until you tell me. Go for it.” Vara met his challenge head-on. “I have two older brothers, remember. I’m no wimpy girl.”

  “I never thought you were.” He took another drink of his coffee. “Okay, here’s the story. At the end of battle, the Viking warriors decapitated the king or leader of the tribe or army they’d vanquished. That night, they’d drink from his skull as a sign of respect for the fallen opponent. You see, the warriors believed it was the only way for the fallen opponent to be allowed into Valhalla.”

  “That’s not so brutal. Let it be known I survived Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom.” She’d covered her eyes during some of the scenes, but she’d stayed in her seat until the end.

  “You’re tough. I like that in a woman.”

  “Valhalla was their version of heaven?”

  “In Norse mythology, it’s the place of honor, glory, and happiness where slain battle heroes are received. This is the important thing to remember: our opponents know to keep one eye open if they tick off Viking fans because—as the saying goes—we can go medieval in a heartbeat.”

  “Medieval, eh? You make a respectable cup of java, by the way. It’s quite tasty.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you approve.”

  “Yes, well, I wouldn’t want to tick you off, or I might be drinking from a dead man’s skull.” Vara crossed her eyes, making him laugh. She could so easily get used to this man in her life, become accustomed to these small but meaningful moments. They each took another drink, their eyes meeting above the rims of their coffee mugs.

  “I met Laura—Ron’s Laura—this morning at Andrea’s. We shared a table and a very nice conversation. When I left, Ron was sitting with her.”

  Thornton grinned and high-fived her. “Excellent work, Sherlock.”

  “I don’t know that I can take much credit, but it’s in their hands now. Thank you for pre-paying my espresso, by the way. That’s a unique way of paying it forward no one’s ever done for me before. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed doing it for you.”

  “Yet here we are, enjoying more coffee. I think we might both have a fairly serious caffeine addiction.”

  “Speak for yourself, Miss Alexandris.”

  “Thornton, being serious now.”

  He took another drink of his coffee. “I’m listening.”

  “Laura told me you came to the rescue of a young family during the Christmas holidays a few years ago. She said you saved their lives.”

  Shaking his head, Thornton ran a hand over his brow. “I can’t take the credit for that. I only did what anyone else would have done.”

  “I disagree. You followed God’s nudge. Do you know how many people would never do that? If you hadn’t come along when you did and stopped to help—even if the family had survived their initial injuries—the frigid temperatures would most likely have killed them.”

  “I was His instrument, and that’s all I can ask,” he said, his voice tinged with something that sounded suspiciously like agitation. “I didn’t ask for publicity, and I didn’t help because I expected anything in return. If I hadn’t come along to help them, someone else would have.”

  Vara surveyed him for a long moment. “Tell me what I’m missing.”

  “There’s more to the story that didn’t get into the media reports.” He took both their mugs and set them on a table. With his hand overs hers, he led her to the sofa, dropping down beside her.

  Vara waited, knowing he’d begin when he was ready.

  “I took the baby boy out of his car seat,” he said. “Some criticized and accused me for my actions. They claimed I shouldn’t have touched him because I could have hurt him more if he had internal injuries or bleeding. I realized that, but I was willing to take the consequences. I’ve had first aid training, and from what I could tell, he was okay.”

  “How did you know?” She reached for his hand again.

  “The car had flipped over, and the poor kid was screaming bloody murder. He was upset, but it wasn’t cries of pain. I was freezing, and maybe my brain was numb, but I thought it’d probably do him more harm to be suspended upside down with the blood rushing to his head. No matter what happened, I knew I’d hear those screams for a long time in my head, especially if he died.”

  “You acted from a compassionate heart,” she said quietly. “People judge and are too quick to criticize, but no one can say how they’d react unless they’re faced with the same circumstances.”

  Thornton nodded, his brow creased. “No one should ever have to die on the side of the road, in the freezing temperatures, in the snow, in an overturned car in a ditch. Especially a tiny, defenseless baby who hadn’t even had the chance to live. That broke my heart, Vara. All I could think about was that if that baby was dying, I needed to hold him. Everyone should feel love, everyone should be held, when they leave this world, you know?”

  When he looked at her, Thornton’s eyes were bright. Moving her hand to the side of his face, she rested it there, his beard soft beneath her fingers. “I know.”

  “I had to keep the Dad talking as I held his son. I prayed out loud and said whatever popped into my head even though it was mostly mindless chatter. Then I started quoting Psalm 23. ‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.’”

  Vara nodded. “It’s calming and soothing. Familiar.”

  “I remember thinking how the shepherd is not only the protector, but he’s the caretaker of his sheep. I thought about how God had led me there, to the accident site, and I needed to be the shepherd to take care of that family at that moment in time. But the shepherd also knows each of his sheep by name. I kept thinking that I didn’t know that baby’s name, and I didn’t know the names of his mother and father. Then, when I was sitting in the hospital, praying, I kept thinking of the verse, ‘He gui
des me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.’”

  “You went to the hospital with them?”

  “I had to know what happened.” Thornton’s brown eyes met hers. “They were taken to Mercy Grace.”

  Vara inhaled a breath. Not that it meant anything, but she was glad to know. “I’m thankful everything turned out fine.”

  “Me, too. You can’t even know how much.”

  “Did you stay in touch with them?”

  He nodded, brightening somewhat. “They live in a little town in Iowa called Starlight. They came to Minneapolis for Christmas this year, and we met up for dinner. The little guy, Elijah, calls me Uncle Thorn now, and they recently had a baby girl named Delilah.”

  Vara’s eyes misted. “How precious. That adds even more to the story.”

  “Yes, it kind of does, doesn’t it? Elijah’s a great kid. Growing like a weed.” Thornton’s brows drew together. “Vara, there’s something else about that night that I told no one other than my dad and Charlotte. And confessed it to the Lord, of course.”

  Vara wondered why he’d choose to tell her if he’d told no one else outside of his family, not even Rosalinda. She swallowed, praying it wouldn’t be a heart-shattering revelation.

  Claiming her hand again, Thornton laced his fingers with hers.

  “That night, I was on my way to a girl’s house in the Minneapolis suburbs. I’d met her over the previous summer, and we’d kept in touch. She called and invited me to her parents’ house, and then I’d planned on coming to Cherish the next day.”

  “Were you dating her?”

  “No, but I wanted to. She’d invited me to spend the night, and I agreed, knowing full well her parents weren’t going to be home. Most of my friends back at school were shacking up with girls and jumping from one relationship to another. When the opportunity presented itself, I thought I was ready to jump into the casual sex pool. More like dive in head-first with my eyes wide open. No one expected me in Cherish that night, and I’d covered all the bases so no one ever had to know. When I was ten minutes away from her house, that’s when I saw the tire tracks leading off the side of the highway.”

  Thornton’s shoulders rose and fell with his deep sigh. “I’ve done a lot of things in my past that I’m ashamed to admit. But I’d never lied to my family, and that was as low as I could go. You don’t lie to the people who love you the most. They trusted me, and I let them down.”

  “But you did tell them,” Vara said quietly, squeezing his hand.

  “I did, but not for another year. I’m thankful my dad was still alive then.”

  “Thornton—”

  Strengthening his hold on her hand, he held on tight as though afraid she might slip away. “I called the girl and explained what happened. She understood, of course, but then I told her I wouldn’t be coming that night or any other night. I was a Christian, but I sure wasn’t acting like it. I was ashamed of my thoughts and embarrassed by my behavior. Ultimately, the experience shook me up and stopped me from making a huge mistake.”

  “Sometimes shaking us up is the way we learn,” she said. “We take it more to heart because we were in a position where we had to make the choice between right or wrong.”

  Thornton watched her closely. “Agreed. I’d give anything for that accident not to have happened, but through it, He showed me that my plans weren’t anywhere close to how a Christian man should behave. I was going to her house for all the wrong reasons and running after my own selfish gratification.”

  Vara wrapped her hand around his, wanting to give him comfort and let him know he was a good man, an honorable man. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Thornton. Let me tell you something.” She shifted on the sofa to face him. “In the short time I’ve known you, you’ve helped me to see a few things more clearly.”

  A hint of his grin surfaced. “Oh? Care to share? I could use a little positive reinforcement.”

  She smiled. This was the Thornton she’d come to know and admire. “You make others feel better about themselves. I’ve been a little…stagnant in my faith the past few years. I guess you could call it spiritually lazy. I’m seeing new ways that God has a purpose for everything that happens in our lives. Things we don’t expect or can’t anticipate. We might not understand what’s happening at the time, and we may never understand. But I have to trust that He always has my best interests in mind. Sometimes that’s hard to do because I want to be the one in control.”

  “I think we all feel that way.” Thornton glanced down at their joined hands, skimming his thumb over hers. “That’s why we’re human, and He’s divine.”

  “The way I see it, you had two choices that night, Thornton.”

  His brows lifted. “Tell me.”

  “The first was the decision to go to the girl’s house. If the accident hadn’t happened, you may or may not have chosen to follow through with the original plan. The second choice was when you saw the tire tracks on the side of the road. Like I said before, you didn’t have to stop. But you did. And you can’t tell me that decision wasn’t pleasing to God.”

  Turning her hand, he pressed a soft, tender kiss to her open palm. “Vara, I…”

  “Thornton?”

  They both jumped at the sound of Rosalinda’s voice on the intercom.

  He cleared his throat and locked gazes with her. “Yes, Rose?”

  “Charlotte’s ready to come downstairs now.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Releasing her hand, Thornton rose to his feet. “Sorry about that. The timing could have been better.”

  “Go,” she encouraged. “We can talk another time.”

  He nodded and then practically sprinted from the room. Sinking into the sofa cushions, Vara tried to still her erratic breathing. Again, she wondered what he’d been about to say. Concentrating on Charlotte’s therapy session might be difficult today. Opening her hand, Vara stared at her palm and ran her finger over where his lips had been. Like a young girl might touch her cheek after being kissed. Goodness, the man knew how to capture her attention. And keep it.

  Within a couple of minutes, Rosalinda entered the living room followed closely by Thornton with Charlotte in his arms. The sight stole her breath all over again. Carefully lowering her to her floor, he kept one arm around her, steadying her. “Let’s walk over to the armchair together and show Vara that you’re almost ready for a marathon.” Charlotte playfully shoved him away, and a pretty pink color blossomed in her cheeks.

  Moving his arm around her shoulders, he kissed her cheek. “I know Vara’s looking forward to your session,” Rosalinda said as Thornton settled his grandmother in one of the armchairs.

  Vara rose to her feet. “Good morning, Charlotte. I hope you’re feeling better now.”

  Charlotte gave her a polite nod. “Thank…you.” Vara had learned early on at the hospital to dispense with the overuse of pleasantries since this woman interpreted them as idle flattery. Although Charlotte couldn’t be described as warm and fuzzy, she clearly adored Thornton and doted on him. In the eyes of her patient, she was the stranger, the vara.

  Upbeat as ever, Thornton gave them both a bright smile. “Do you ladies mind if I stick around and work while you’re having your session?”

  Charlotte didn’t answer but pulled her new electronic word game from her pocket. When Thornton started to assist his grandmother, Vara cleared her throat with a slight head shake.

  He gave her a nod and then watched as her patient successfully turned on the device and began to move her fingers over the screen. “Look at that, Vara. Nana’s getting really good with this thing. Before we know it, she’ll be throwing out the first pitch at the Twins spring training camp.”

  That comment earned him a balled-up tissue tossed in his face. Never one to miss a beat, he dipped and caught it one-handed. “See how she treats me? Throwing her used snot wads at me. I hope Vara works you extra hard for that offense, troublemaker.” Quickly crossing the room to the wastebasket beneath his desk, he
made a big show of dunking the tissue. It bounced back out again, making Vara and Rosalinda laugh while Charlotte just shook her head.

  As they worked together, Vara noticed Thornton frequently paused his drafting pencil, but he remained quiet and didn’t interrupt. At one point, her refilled mug appeared on the table beside her. Rose had gone out to the market, and one sip told her that he’d prepared it.

  She stole a glance at him, admiring his profile. A short, dark shock of hair had fallen over his forehead. Vara found herself wanting to smooth it aside.

  Beneath the jovial façade, Thornton was a man of faith.

  A man who loved and cared for his family.

  A man who’d quickly become her close friend.

  A man who’d shared his heart with her.

  All in all, a man worth getting to know much better.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Saturday Morning

  “Lord, please tell me why I’m doing this.”

  Talking to one of her sisters might help. Vara pushed the button to call Sofia. A man in the car to her left raced by, either oblivious to or in defiance of the speed limit restrictions as well as the no texting while driving law. Truly scary.

  “Good morning.” Her sister sounded groggy, her yawn audible.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you, sleepyhead.”

  “Not a problem. Normally I’d be up, but I was at the office until four this morning working on a new campaign pitch. This could be my big break.”

  She’d heard that from Sofia before. “I wish you all the best. Who’s the potential client?”

  “Big mattress king on the South Side of Chi-Town. His previous agency did those horribly tacky and obnoxious ads they show at two in the morning when most of the people watching are either hungover or suffering from insomnia.”

  “And that creative brain is why you’re in advertising.” Vara smiled.

  “I think you saw one when you visited last time. Remember the guy dressed in the fake crown and cape who jumps around on an oversized bed?”

 

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