by JoAnn Durgin
Laura laughed. “Scary, isn’t it?”
“A little. Is she a librarian?”
“No, but she’s Myrna’s close friend and volunteers here all the time. Dorothea’s a widow, and it’s a good way for her to feel needed. This place is huge, and it needs a ton of volunteers to keep it running.”
“I can imagine.” Based on her recent visit to the library, Vara believed the Widow Dorothea might also have her eye on the Widower Sherman.
Hooking her arm through Vara’s, Laura walked with her toward the grand staircase. “If you want to check out the used books for sale, they’re in that room over here.” She pointed to the same room Vara had been in previously. “There’s also a silent auction upstairs for rare and antique books, as well as first editions and author-signed books for sale.”
“Sounds good. I think I’ll check out the used books first.”
Laura leaned close and lowered her voice. “I have news. Ron’s taking me to dinner tonight!”
Vara smiled. “That’s terrific. I’m so happy for you, Laura.”
“Thanks. We only have a few restaurants here in town. The Cherish Diner is a lot of fun, but it’s packed on the weekends, so we’re going into the city. Ron insisted on making all the plans, and I really like it when a man takes charge.” When Laura blushed, her blue eyes sparkled. “I haven’t been so excited about a date in a long time.”
Vara gave her another quick hug. “I know you’ll have a spectacular time.”
After chatting with Laura for another minute, Vara headed into the crowded room and began browsing in the biography section. Spotting Elisabeth Elliot’s The Mark of a Man, she pulled it out. The subtitle likewise piqued her interest: Following Christ’s Example of Masculinity.
“Do you know the story of Elisabeth Elliot, Miss Vara?”
Vara pivoted. “Rosalinda! How lovely to see you.” She glanced at the book in her hand. “I know Elisabeth and her first husband, Jim, were missionaries in Ecuador, and that he was tragically martyred with four missionary friends.”
“I’ve always found it remarkable how she chose to continue on with their work among the Indian tribe, especially with an infant daughter,” Rosalinda said. “That showed an uncommon resilience. She was indeed a very godly woman.”
Vara nodded. “I suppose that’s why she was a missionary. I’ve always believed missionaries are born, not made. Meaning it’s not even a choice. Where He leads, they’ll follow. They don’t have the fear of the unknown that so many people do. If they die, they know their eternal home in heaven will be so much better. We know that, too, but I think insecurities and fears somehow seem to take precedence with people who aren’t of that same mindset.” Vara glanced over the book’s back cover. “You’re right, though. Elisabeth was very brave and strong.”
“I also believe each one of us must bloom where God plants us, beginning in our own home,” Rosalinda said. “I didn’t know you’d be coming to town this morning, Miss Vara. Did we have a session scheduled for today that I’ve forgotten?”
“Not at all. One of the locals at Andrea’s told me about this event, so I thought it’d be fun to come and check out the books as well as donate to a worthy cause.”
Rosalinda eyed her knowingly. “A citizen about six feet tall with dark hair and brown eyes who goes by the name of Thornton? That local?”
Vara laughed. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t Thornton. This time.”
“He’ll be here soon, child. He’s bringing Charlotte so we can have lunch. She couldn’t stand being cooped up much longer. To be truthful, neither could we. Say what you might about Thornton, but when needed, that boy has the patience of a saint. He helps to keep Charlotte calm, and she seems to improve quickly when he’s under her roof. I’m indeed grateful to have him home, and I certainly will miss him when he leaves us again.”
Vara’s smile faded, and she swallowed. “Is he planning on leaving again soon?”
“He’s not planning on it, no, but if one of his bids is accepted, he’ll probably be gone soon enough.”
“Oh.” So that’s how it was. All of Thornton’s big talk about wanting to be near Charlotte, yet he’d take off at the first opportunity?
That’s not fair, Vara. Thornton had more than proven his devotion to his grandmother. But his job was his livelihood and how he made his income. She couldn’t fault him for that. Even so, a flicker of disappointment surged through her. “Hopefully, he won’t be gone as long next time.”
“The good news is that he always comes home again.” Rosalinda’s tone was kind. “You’re more than welcome to join us for lunch, child. Estella King makes the best cornbread in the entire county, and the men from Cherish Community Church stir up pots of their award-winning chili.”
Vara couldn’t quite muster a smile. “I’d like that, thanks.”
“See you soon, child. Enjoy your shopping.” With a gentle squeeze on Vara’s arm, the older woman headed out of the room.
Another few minutes later, Vara discovered a second Elisabeth Elliot book, this one entitled Let Me Be a Woman. She figured it must be a companion book to the other one. She added it to her growing number of selections.
While standing in the line for the checkout, Vara glimpsed Thornton wheeling Charlotte’s wheelchair through the front corridor. She watched until they were out of sight but resisted craning her neck. In case any of the townspeople were watching, she didn’t want to give them any more fodder for gossip.
“I found this book. You might want it, too.” Laura dropped it on top of Vara’s stack of books before walking out of the room with Ron by her side. Already stuck together like glue as her brothers used to say. The thought made Vara smile until she glimpsed the title of the book—Passion and Purity: Learning to Bring Your Love Life Under Christ’s Control. Another gem from Elisabeth Elliot. Yes, that should do it. Buying this book would start the town gossips chattering away.
Lord, please hurry up this line before Thornton comes in and sees me. Once he met up with Rosalinda and knew she was in the library, he’d no doubt come and find her.
Finally, Vara reached the front of the line. As she lowered her books to the table, one of them escaped her grasp and landed on the floor with a loud thud. She reached to pick it up and nearly bumped heads with Thornton.
“I believe this is yours.”
“Your timing is impeccable.” She refused to look at the book Thornton held out to her. She’d long known God had an ironic sense of humor, so she had a sinking feeling about which book it was. She snatched it from him with a forced smile. “Thank you.”
“Interesting reading material.”
“It happens to be a Christian book. Written by a woman who’d been a Christian missionary whose unfortunate husband was speared to death. Martyred.”
Of course, not one but three ladies sat behind the table to witness this exchange. They could have been watching a tennis match with all the head wagging going on.
“I’m aware of Elisabeth and Jim Elliot’s story.” Thornton tapped the cover of the book. “Let me know if you learn anything.”
“Then it’s a blessed day for you. Here you go. My treat.” She practically shoved Passion and Purity into his flannel-covered chest. “Enjoy it with my compliments.” If she was going down, Thornton might as well tank right along with her. And to think she’d been contemplating laying her heart on the line to this smug Neanderthal.
“I will. Thanks, Vara.” He smiled at the ladies. “Mabel, Grace, Kaye. Nice to see you.”
“You too, Thornton. You sure do liven up this town when you’re home.”
“Thanks, Mabel. You’d better watch what you say or Fred’s going to be jealous.” Smiling, the older woman blushed and waved her hand.
“How much do I owe you?” Vara asked the woman adding up the cost of her selections with a small calculator.
“Twenty dollars and fifty cents, please. You’ve got a nice selection of books here.”
“You had a lot to choose from.�
� After she handed over the money, the woman—Kaye, she believed—took her sweet time transferring the books into a plastic bag. Did she have to examine every single one? Heaven forbid if she’d picked up anything truly provocative. If she had, she might as well sink into the floor now rather than show her face in Cherish again.
“I’d better double bag these since you have so many.” No wonder this line had moved so slowly.
“Kaye, why don’t you give us another bag,” Thornton said. “I’ll take care of her books.”
Vara thanked them and then took the other bag as Thornton scooped her books into his arms. She had to smile at the way he’d pronounced a simple, three-letter word like bag. Minnesotans tended to hold onto their vowels and run with them, especially the “ag” words.
“Thank you for carrying my books.” She pointed to a table in the corridor as he walked out by her side. “Let’s go over here.” Without speaking, an anomaly all its own, Thornton filled the bag while she held it open.
Seconds later, with that task completed, Vara didn’t know what to say. Having a conversation with this man while standing in a library where every sound ricocheted up to the painted fresco ceiling—and back—didn’t seem advisable.
Thornton touched her arm. “Vara, I have a question for you. This is a big one.”
“Okay, but we should probably go somewhere private.” She gestured at their surroundings. “You know, high ceilings, atrium, marble, lots of open spaces…things echo. It’s not like we want the entire town hearing our private conversation.”
“I always knew you were smart. Come with me.” Grabbing the books, Thornton covered Vara’s hand and tugged her toward an open doorway.
Chapter Eighteen
Once inside the small meeting room, Thornton closed the door. “First of all, it’s great to see you this morning. It’s unexpected, and to be honest, I’m giddy. Trust me, that’s not something I’d freely admit to just anyone.”
“You seem to like confiding in me. I’m not sure why.”
“Is that a complaint?”
Vara’s lips twisted. “No. I appreciate the things you’ve told me so far.”
He looked at her as though trying to read her mind. Vara hoped he wouldn’t look too closely since he seemed to possess an uncanny ability to do that very thing.
“Unless you have an identical twin, you were at the house on Thursday morning. As far as I’m concerned, we bonded. We bonded real good.”
“Yes, Thornton, I was there.” Vara bit down on her lower lip.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I realize this might come across as presumptuous, but if you’re not interested in me as more than the grandson of your patient, why are you here? In Cherish. In this library. Today.”
“Laura told me about the book sale and invited me,” she told him. “By the way, Ron’s taking her to dinner tonight.”
Thornton grinned, and the sparkle in his eyes appeared. “Excellent! I hope he’s taking her into the city, though. It’s hard to get any privacy here in town.”
“Laura said he’s taking her into the city.”
“Good. Now, try telling me why you’re really here.”
“If it makes a difference, I was waging that same internal debate just now.”
“I could tell.”
Vara blew out a breath. “Of course, you could. Because of those in-tune with humanity instincts of yours which you felt so free to tell me about at our first meeting. You know what?” Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out Mark of a Man and handed it to him. “Take this one, too. Who knows? You might find some something useful.”
“I call things as I see them, Vara. Seems to me you find that an appealing quality.”
“Yes, well, it can also come across as arrogant.”
Thornton set the book on a table and then folded his arms over his chest again. “I call it confidence.”
“That’s not exactly a surprise coming from the man who refers to a disagreement as”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“an exchange of ideas.”
“Like we’re having now? And it’s a difference of opinion, not a disagreement.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you never stop?”
“I find it difficult when you’re around. Look, Vara. I believe in cutting to the chase, paring to the bone, laying it all out on the table. Why beat around the bush and…” He scratched his head. “Okay, before I kill myself in Clichéland, let me say that I find you irresistible. You’re beautiful, witty, funny—sometimes without intending to be which can be the best kind of funny—compassionate, and adorable in too many ways to count.”
“Calling a girl adorable when she’s my age isn’t exactly a compliment.”
“How about sexy? Or gorgeous? Do those suit you better?”
“Now you’re trying to make me blush.”
“Okay, it’s honesty time. Do you find me attractive?” Thornton gestured up and down the length of him. “Have at it. Let’s get it all out. Right here, right now. If the flannel bothers you, I only wore it because I overslept, and it was the first thing I grabbed from the closet.”
“I find you a lot of things. That doesn’t mean I need to get romantic ideas in my head about you. Or you and me together. Us.” She was stammering too much and needed to try and keep a level head.
“Aha!” He raised a finger in the air. “The fact you even said it implies that you do have ideas about us, romantic or otherwise.”
“Thornton, do you even hear yourself? No matter what I say, I think you’ll read whatever you want into it.”
“Admit it, Vara. You can’t wait to see me when you come to the house. And you’re disappointed if I’m not there. We’re good together. You know it as well as I do.”
“It seems you want me to admit or agree to a few things this morning.”
“I’m losing testosterone here as we speak.” Lowering his hands to his sides, he stepped closer…within breathing distance. “You know, I used to be teased when I was a kid. My nose was too sharp and large for the rest of my face. My ears stuck out, and my hair didn’t cooperate half the time. I was farsighted and wore these huge, really ugly black glasses. At least I had straight teeth and didn’t need braces.”
She swallowed. “What do you expect me to take away from that?”
“My nose is still sharp. My ears stick out but not as bad. My hair’s pretty wild most mornings. But I have cool glasses, and I’ve learned to work with what God gave me.”
“Thornton, you’re obviously fishing for a compliment, so…yes.”
“Yes?” He stepped even closer, something she couldn’t believe possible since she was already within distance of his peppermint–y breath.
“Yes, I find you attractive. In an unconventional way. I wouldn’t turn you away if we were the last two survivors on the planet.” Vara slapped her hands on her cheeks. “See? You’ve done it now. I’m blushing, aren’t I?”
“If I really wanted to make you blush, I’d do something way more creative. For instance, I’d wrap my arms around you.” He paused, his brown eyes sparkling as they roamed over her face. “Then I’d draw you close, caress your cheeks, whisper something romantic in your ear.” Taking her hand, he stroked his thumb over her palm, igniting every one of her senses, including some she didn’t know she possessed.
Vara could barely breathe. Cheeks flaming, she lowered her gaze from his. She should stop him now, but she couldn’t. The Lord knew she needed to hear his next words. Then she’d pray Thornton Fielding wouldn’t trample her heart and fly off into the sunset with it.
“And then I’d kiss you, Vara. Really kiss you.” His voice was low, husky. “Believe you me, I’m not talking about a small peck. I’m talking about kissing you the way you deserve to be kissed. A slow, thorough, passionate kiss to make you forget—”
“I get your point, Mr. Fielding.” Vara snatched her hand from his, staring at him as she tried to control her breathing. Why did the man have to say such things? Why was she lis
tening to this? She should have stopped him long before now. But, God help her, she couldn’t. If Thornton was trying to drive her crazy, he was doing it quite effectively.
Never in her life had she been so maddeningly confused.
Never in her life had she been more attracted to a man. The worst part? She suspected Thornton knew exactly what was happening in her mind.
“I have an idea. Let’s try it. Right here, right now.” Slipping one arm around her waist, he pulled her close, reminding her of when he’d held her as they’d danced together.
“No! I mean…wait. I…I…can’t.”
“One kiss to see if we’re compatible. Let’s see whether or not, after all our flirting, we’re only meant to be platonic friends and nothing more.” Thornton brushed his lips over her temple. “See if there’s a spark.”
“How could we not be compatible?” As it was, she was about to ignite. When she realized what she’d revealed by her question, Vara moved one hand over her mouth.
Oh, she was a loon, all right. A delusional one. She’d need to do some serious praying that she could continue to be around Thornton and not succumb to his charms. In the last week alone, she’d grown much closer to him, and it was about more than enjoying his company. Although she’d enjoyed the company of men she’d called friends before, she’d never wanted them to tease her like Thornton did. She’d never wanted them to tempt her the way this man did with his dancing eyes, the quirk of his lip…
She needed to tamp down those thoughts immediately.
“Here’s an idea. You, Thornton Fielding, are the most insufferable man I’ve ever met.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Go on.” Thornton’s gaze narrowed, but those brown eyes were dancing a jig. He wasn’t buying this conversation for a single second.
Fine. She’d give him more bait to nibble on. It might help to maintain her sanity while keeping him an arm’s length away. For now. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re a little off your rocker or just wonderfully weird. Maybe you have one of those Peter Pan complexes where you’ve never grown up and never will. So, instead, you play with models of grown-up toys.”