The Valentine Verse: A Contemporary Christian Romance

by JoAnn Durgin

  She rested one hand on his jacket. “It seemed the thing to do. Words seemed inadequate. Is that a complaint?”

  His full smile broke through. “Feel free to be at a loss for words more often.”

  When Thornton gestured for it, Vara handed over the grocery bag she carried. “May I give you some food for thought? Make a suggestion?”

  “Always. What’s on your mind?”

  “A man in an apron is irresistible.”

  His brows lifted. “Really. That’s not exactly what I meant, but I’ll keep it in mind. Are you flirting with me, Miss Alexandris? Because from where I’m standing—turning into an ice sculpture as we speak—that sounded an awful lot like flirting.”

  “No, but Miss Pumpel…whatever you called me in there…she might be accused of flirting.” Who were they kidding? Heaven help her, but she couldn’t help but flirt with this lovely man.

  “Snitch.”

  She’d turned around but then pivoted. “Now you’re calling me a snitch?”

  “Not if you don’t spill my secrets.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it. So much for all your big talk about trusting me.”

  “Pumpelsnitch,” he said, punctuated with a smile. “That was the last name I gave Gertie. And you know I trust you. Now, please go get in your car before your beautiful smile freezes over.”

  “I’ll do that, Thorny.”

  As Vara neared her vehicle, a snowball pelted her square in the back. Swallowing her laughter, she unlocked her SUV and climbed inside.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thornton lowered his fork to the plate. “Don’t leave me hanging here, ladies. What’s the verdict?” He looked from one to the other. They’d made a few comments here and there. “Come on. It wasn’t that bad, was it?” They were giving him a complex.

  Charlotte gave him a thumbs-up accompanied by a half-smile. She knew exactly what he was up to by cooking this meal. Although her speech was temporarily affected, she still managed to make her opinions known.

  Rose beamed. “The meal was absolutely splendid. And you know I will never you tell a lie.”

  “We have the cherry tree in the backyard to prove it, right, Nana?” He gave her a wink.

  “We’re teasing you, Thornton. I’m very impressed, and we all agree you should definitely wear that cute little apron more often. It’s a nice touch.” Vara’s smile was all the thanks he needed. Totally worth the effort.

  Following her suggestion, he’d found a frilly apron in a drawer and worn it with pride as he’d brined, sautéed, stirred, whisked, microwaved, and tossed. Once he figured he could do this, he’d even whistled and—feeling brave—dared to sing along with Ella and Louis. He’d downloaded their duet to his iPad, and it made him smile every time.

  Vara turned to his grandmother. “Charlotte, can you tell Thornton with your words?”

  Propping his elbow on the table, Thornton pushed his fist against his lips. Charlotte hated feeling patronized. Vara’s question, although understandable and to be expected, no doubt made her feel like a child. And there it was—The Scowl. With a frustrated grunt, Charlotte picked up the dry erase board and the marker.

  “Your words, Charlotte.” This time the reproof came from Rose and earned her a glare more withering than the one she’d directed at Vara. The kind of look that earned her nasty nicknames from his high school buds. They didn’t know her the way he did, but in the presence of others, she often showed her more disagreeable side.

  “It’s…” Charlotte stopped and worked her mouth and tongue to form the next word. “Very.” She paused again. “Good.”

  Vara and Rose beamed. For her part, Charlotte resumed eating without looking their way. Neither did she look at him. At least she was eating his food, and that wasn’t something he ever thought he’d see. To his surprise, he’d enjoyed making the meal. If he could coerce or bribe Rose to give him access to the kitchen, he might do it again sometime.

  Reaching for Charlotte’s hand, Thornton gave it a quick squeeze. “Thank you, Nana. I’m glad you like it. Vara was right in telling me that all I needed was to pay attention to the directions. That’s why they’re there.”

  Then he winked at Rose. “Rose might even allow me in her kitchen more often.”

  “This is only one meal,” Rose said with a mock huff. “We shall see.”

  Vara had brought Charlotte into the kitchen, and she’d read part of the recipe’s instructions to him. As he’d expected, she’d soon tired of the process, and they’d moved back out to the living room. Not long after, Rose paid him a little visit to get glasses of water for the other two ladies. While there, she’d helped ensure the skillet wasn’t too hot before he added the leeks.

  She’d stayed until the leeks had softened, and it was time to add the shrimp. She’d also explained in tedious detail and then demonstrated the art of finely grating a lemon peel to get the zest. Supposedly, it added flavor, but he wasn’t buying it.

  After making sure he knew to cook the shrimp until it was opaque throughout and checking to ensure he had the other ingredients ready to stir into the dish, Rose gave her approval.

  “Don’t leave me,” he’d begged.

  “I think you’ll be okay.” Rose hesitated in the doorway. “Thornton, why don’t you ask Miss Vara to be your date for the Valentine Dance?”

  “I’m not in high school.” It’s all he’d been thinking about since the chat with Ron, and he’d brought up the idea of Ron asking Laura to the dance. Heaven forbid if Laura turned down Ron, and then he turned around and asked Vara. Right. Maybe he wasn’t as far out of high school as he’d thought.

  “You’d have a great time, and it’d make Charlotte very happy.” Rose tilted her head and graced him with her best Please do this for your grandmother smile. I know how much that means to you.”

  “It’s not a matter of having fun. I’m sure it’d be great. For your information, you don’t need to set a place for me at dinner next Saturday night. I’ve asked Vara to dinner, and I’m meeting her in the city.”

  Rose startled him when she’d clapped. “This is splendid news!”

  He’d looked up from stirring the leeks. “You’re really putting on the full-court press today, aren’t you? Why? Because going to the dance with Vara won’t interfere with Charlotte’s therapy sessions in any way?”

  “Exactly. In any case, that’s part of it.”

  He shook his head but resisted running his hand through his hair considering he was standing in the kitchen and handling food. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get snarly.” He’d never understand women, but he didn’t like being disgruntled.

  “I’m used to your snarls. They don’t scare me, even when you bare your teeth. You were clever to come up with this cooking project today in order to have Miss Vara and Charlotte in here with you. I do believe the young lady likes what she sees in you. Why, I have no idea. God help her.”

  “You’d better leave now and take the water to the ladies if you don’t want to be the victim of, oh I don’t know, a flying leek that somehow manages to fly out of my grasp.” Thornton grabbed an extra leek on the counter and held it up, threatening to throw it at her.

  Laughing, Rose headed out of the kitchen. No respect from some of these women. At least Vara seemed enthusiastic and supportive about his career and this cooking project. A guy could be a lot worse off than to have people in his life who cared about him.

  Nana rapped on the table, making him jump. Embarrassed he’d been caught with his thoughts, Thornton gave her an overly bright smile. “You knocked?”

  “Go to the dance.” She’d managed to get those four words out with little trouble although the rhythm was a little off.

  “Dance?”

  Charlotte nodded. She traced a heart pattern over her chest and then pointed to Vara. Unless he was completely clueless, her meaning was unmistakable. To his recollection, she’d never encouraged him to ask a girl out, making this a significant gesture on her part.

  Couldn�
�t women make up their minds? Wasn’t it only yesterday he’d had the heart-to-heart with Rose? In the long run, that conversation had only served to muddle his brain all the way around. The only thing he could figure was that, in her own way, Charlotte was giving her approval for a relationship with Vara. Encouraging him to date her while preferring he stay mostly out-of-sight whenever the lovely SPL—SLP—was in the house.

  “Vara, I believe Charlotte Matchmaking Fielding is at it again. If you’re finished with your meal, would you please accompany me to the other room?” He rose from the table. “Time for some after-lunch privacy.”

  “I’m done.” Rising from the table, Vara carried her plate across the room and lowered it into the sink. Her shuttered expression gave no indication as to what she might be thinking, but he hadn’t needed to pry her from the chair. Neither had she bolted in the other direction.

  Vara checked her watch. “Charlotte, shall we meet in the living room in half an hour?”

  “That’s…fine,” Charlotte agreed.

  Rose, the true mastermind behind Operation Valentine Dance, gave him a brilliant smile. If she were the type of woman to give him a thumbs-up, he’d be seeing one now.

  “If you’ll please excuse us, ladies. Oh, and Rose? Leave the dishes. I’ll take care of them when I get back.” He narrowed his eyes at his grandmother and then winked at Rose. He’d intended to wait until their date on Saturday night to ask Vara to Cherish’s biggest annual event, but this should speed things up nicely.

  Thornton followed Vara out of the kitchen and down the corridor. “Let’s go in the study. It’s smaller.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “Not sure. Humor me.” Vara’s hand brushed his as they walked. Feeling impulsive, he grabbed that soft, warm hand and held on.

  She didn’t resist.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Thornton stood aside for Vara to enter first. She’d had a brief glimpse of the study—originally his grandfather’s—early on when Rose had shown her around the home. This was a smaller room, comparatively, and very masculine, as she’d expected. A massive, dark wood executive desk and black leather chair sat on the far end of the room.

  “This is another fabulous room.” Vara walked toward the bookshelves lining the entire side wall and quickly perused the selections—a good mix of classic literature, biographies, detective and mystery novels. “Have you had a chance to start either of the books from the library sale?”

  “Not yet, but I will.”

  On the wall behind the desk hung a large oil portrait of Charlotte and her husband, Thomas Fielding, Sr. They wore fine clothing and austere expressions. “The only thing missing were hunting clothes and a dutiful basset hound at their feet.”

  Thornton cocked his head and surveyed the painting. “Your thought process fascinates me, but I suppose you’re right.” He motioned to one of two wingback chairs, upholstered in handsome brocade, positioned in front of the desk.

  “I think I’ll stand.” Crossing her arms, Vara turned to face him. “I think we should discuss our dating history.”

  A hint of his usual grin surfaced. “Would you like a spreadsheet or will a summary of the highlights work?”

  She smiled. “The highlights will suffice. You mentioned that you’d been singed. I’m sorry about that, but I’d like to know.”

  “You sure you wouldn’t prefer having this conversation sitting down?”

  “I assumed it wouldn’t take that long.”

  That made him laugh. “Then I’ll give you the quick rundown. Let’s skip over high school and college. I dated and fumbled my way through those years, but my longest relationship lasted all of a month. I’ll admit I did some experimenting and got in some trouble at school, but I wised up.” He stroked his jaw. “Having Jesus in my life kept me straight until the thing in grad school thing.”

  She nodded. “That’s seriously all there is to your dating history?”

  “That’s seriously it, yes. Vara, why are you really asking me about this?”

  “Not sure. Humor me.”

  “Fine. Keep in mind these experiences took place sometime in the past five years, and I met the women during one of my longer projects. I might not get the chronological order correct.”

  “I wouldn’t know the difference.” She shrugged. “You can tell me in order of importance if you want.” This entire discussion seemed fruitless, but she was curious. How was it possible a man like this hadn’t dated much?

  “If you go by order of importance, then I’m looking at her.”

  With a slight shake of her head, Vara eyed him. “We haven’t even had an official date.”

  “At our age, that doesn’t matter. You kissed me, Vara.”

  Vara held his gaze. “Yes, I did.”

  “In order of importance, that kiss from you today meant more than all the others combined. In spite of the freezing cold, I enjoyed it immensely. The element of surprise was terrific.”

  “I’m…flattered, Thornton. You are a true romantic at heart, aren’t you?”

  “I’m trying my best. Okay, since you seem to want to know, let’s start with Destiny. She called me sexist and chauvinistic because I expressed the opinion that I liked her hair better long after she chopped it up to her earlobes. She asked, and I was only being honest.”

  “Why is that sexist and chauvinistic? She shouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want to hear your honest answer. From what I know, men prefer long hair. At least until a woman has children and doesn’t have time to fool with it or want it tugged out from the roots by sticky little fingers.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “Destiny said, quite emphatically, that I would never ever be part of her destiny if that’s the way I felt. She might have mentioned something about a caveman dragging his woman around by the hair.”

  “That’s pretty extreme.” Vara twisted her lips not to laugh.

  “I thought so. Then there was Madeleine, spelled the French way with an extra ‘e.’ She’d lived in Paris for five years after college, and her boyfriend, Frère Jacques something-or-other, was apparently the epitome of proper, gentlemanly ways. Sadly, I didn’t measure up to his lofty standards.”

  “Then maybe she should go back to Paris and find Jacques.”

  “That’s what she did. He was sleeping.”

  It took her a minute to figure that one out, but then Vara began singing the old Frère Jacques lullaby, ending with, “Dormez vous, Thornton?”

  “You do like to sing, don’t you?”

  “Every bit as much as you like making puns.”

  “Not to be crass, but she did find him sleeping…with a woman…in the same cottage she’d deemed their…however you say love shack in French. Seemed his manners weren’t so proper, after all. For the record, I was not sleeping with Madeleine or any other woman. At any point in time. Last I heard, Madeleine found herself a nice, proper Englishman.”

  “Where does Madeleine live now?”

  “The next town over, as a matter of fact.”

  That surprised her. “Here in Minnesota? You have an ex-girlfriend living in close proximity? Well, that does it. That’s too Melrose Place for me. It might also explain why you no longer date the women here in town. Not to mention the glares directed at me from two women in Andrea’s Coffee Shop my very first morning in town.”

  “I’m sure Madeleine wouldn’t be upset to see me sitting with another woman. She’s reportedly very happy sharing afternoon tea with her charming Brit.” He hesitated. “Would you recognize her if you saw her again?”

  Vara stifled her grin. Curious, was he? “I’m not sure. Andrea would know. And she told me…” She’d already said too much. She never should have admitted the women had been staring at her.

  “She told you…what?” She’d definitely captured the man’s attention now. That’s what she deserved for making such a leading statement. On some unconscious level, maybe it was purposeful.

  “Doesn’t matter.” When Thornton crossed h
is arms and gave her the look, Vara sighed. “Andrea said not to pay them any mind because they were jealous because you seemed to…”

  “Seemed to…?” Leaning close, he grinned with an I’ve got you pinned, and you know it expression. Maddening man.

  “Because you seemed… If you must know, Andrea made the observation that I might have caught your eye.”

  “You did,” he said. “I don’t sit and blather on about love with random women.”

  “Now I’m a random woman?”

  “The very best kind of random. And, so that we’re clear, I like the fact that you wear your hair long. I appreciate that you don’t expect me to speak with a British accent, have impeccable French manners, or be perfect at every given moment of the day. For that matter, at any given moment.”

  “You blew perfection out of the water when you opened the front door of this house. I realized then that you’re not to be trusted.”

  He laughed, deep and hearty. “Vara, you know—somewhere deep down inside—that I think you’re the greatest girl I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

  “I can’t presume to know what you’re thinking. You’re a mystery man, Thornton. For one thing, the word blather sounds suspiciously British. Plus, I’m not sure I can trust a man who uses a hackneyed expression like in my entire life. That’s something a 13-year-old girl with cotton candy dreams would say.”

  “Even if it’s true? I’m sorry if it wasn’t mature or sophisticated…or masculine…enough for you. Name one thing about me that’s so mysterious. Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you honestly haven’t left a trail of broken hearts around the globe?” Now she was acting petty and jealous. Bad move.

  “I rarely date when I’m on a business trip. I need my full focus and attention on my work. When I’m not in meetings, I’m eating, sleeping, or working on the prototype or scale model. Sometimes two of those things simultaneously. I’m not adding names to my little black book or gallivanting about town.”