Love Inspired March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Wife for JacobThe Forest Ranger's RescueAlaskan Homecoming

by Rebecca Kertz

  “I’m sorry, sis. I wish I’d been there to give them the tour, but you handled it fine. Just give me a little more time to resolve the issue. Don’t say or do anything about this problem. Leave Frank to me.” Again, his gaze locked with hers in a persistent look filled with iron will.

  Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones. A feeling of trepidation swept over her, a nervous tickle at the nape of her neck. But she couldn’t ask for Alan’s trust and not return the same consideration to him.

  “Okay. I’ll leave Frank to you,” she promised.

  He flashed a wide smile, slapped his hands down on the armrests of his chair, and pushed himself into a standing position. “Hey, you going to church with us on Sunday?”

  She jerked her head up in surprise. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Why?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “You haven’t gone with us since you’ve been home these past two weeks and everyone’s been asking about you and how you’re doing.”

  “Tell them I’m fine.”

  “They’d like to see you. Why don’t you come with Mom and me?”

  She snorted. “The last thing I want is to stand in a circle surrounded by old friends as they quiz me about my cheating husband.”

  He made a tsking sound of empathy. “I think they care about you more than that, sweetheart.”

  Jill wasn’t so certain. And yet, maybe church wouldn’t be a bad idea. She’d been thinking more about God lately, and didn’t feel as angry at Him anymore. Brent and her work with Evie had softened her heart more than she realized. She’d hoped she could cure Evie, but she hadn’t counted on the girl and her father helping her heal, too.

  “I’ll think about it,” Jill said.

  “Great. I’m going out now. I’ll see you later.”

  She swung her legs over the side of the couch and placed her bare feet on the floor. “What about dinner?”

  He reached for the doorknob, giving it a quick twist before opening the portal wide. “I won’t be joining you tonight. Tell Mom not to wait up.”

  And he was gone.

  * * *

  On Friday evening, Brent was running late to drop Evie off at Jill’s place. As usual, he parked down the street, away from Arline’s house. He suspected she preferred it that way. So the neighbors wouldn’t see his truck in front of her house.

  Opening Evie’s door, he helped her click off the seat belt and hop down onto the sidewalk. After reaching for her dry-erase board, she held his hand as they walked to the house. In the front yard, Brent caught sight of Jill kneeling in the front flower bed. Dressed in knee-length capris and tennis shoes, and a pair of leather gloves. With her head down, she didn’t see them past the wide brim of her floppy straw hat.

  Snip. Snip.

  Using a pair of clippers, she pruned dead branches off the rosebush.

  “Ouch!” She jerked her hand back and tugged off the glove. She pressed her finger to her mouth, easing the bite from a thorn.

  Her gaze lifted and she blinked in surprise. And then she gave them a dazzling smile. “Brent! Evie! I didn’t know you were here.”

  She crawled out from beneath the bush and stood before removing the hat and sailing it onto the grass. She glanced at her wristwatch. “Is it time for our lesson already? I must have lost track of time.”

  Evie gazed back with serene curiosity, her eyes filled with the light of wonderment. Brent felt her fingers tighten around his own and knew she liked being here.

  In a rush of energy, Jill gathered up her bucket and clippers. “Don’t worry. I’ll be ready for our lesson in just a few moments.”

  “It’s okay. No hurry,” Brent reassured her.

  “Evie!”

  They simultaneously turned toward the house. Arline stood on the doorstep, waving to the girl.

  Evie hesitated and that was when Brent realized she was never fully at ease. Not even here.

  “It’s okay, Evie. You can go with Mom. She has a special treat for you. I’ll come inside in just a few minutes.” Jill spoke in a gentle voice.

  The girl gave a slight lift of her chin, almost as if Jill’s approval was all she needed to know she was safe. That she could do this and it would be okay.

  Evie ran to the house. Brent wasn’t certain, but he got the impression she was trying to be brave. To overcome her fears of the unknown. And that brought a hard lump to his throat. Because he knew this wasn’t easy for her. And next to Jill, he thought she was one of the most courageous people he knew.

  Watching her go, Jill spoke low for Brent’s ears alone. “Oh, yes. She’s doing lots better.”

  He faced her, noticing an endearing smudge of dirt along her chin. “Yes, she is.”

  “Have you noticed more improvements at home?”

  “Yes, she’s now communicating with Mrs. Crawford with the dry-erase board and even helping fold the laundry.”

  “That’s great.”

  He glanced at the flower bed. “My wife loved roses. Our house in Oregon was edged by dozens of red rosebushes.”

  Jill smiled. “Roses are beautiful and fragrant. They’re easy to love. But they also have thorns. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to prune dozens of them. No matter how careful I am, I always get scratched.” She held up her arms to show him several thin abrasions marring her smooth flesh.

  He cringed. “Ouch. You need to put a salve on those. It’s too bad something so lovely can also cause so much pain.”

  “Yes, it is, but I don’t really mind. I love working in the yard. Mom’s always glad when I’m home to do the work outside. Dad always did it before. She doesn’t like it much.”

  “I always enjoyed it, too,” he confided. “Though my wife loved roses, I was the one that did the upkeep, just like your dad. About the only thing she did was cut the flowers to put in a vase on our kitchen table.”

  “Jill!”

  They both whirled toward the corner at the back of the house where Alan stood waving at her.

  “David’s on the phone,” he called.

  Jill frowned, then murmured an apology. “Excuse me for a few minutes, please. I’ll be right back.”

  She walked toward the door in a slow trudge, her shoulders hunched in dejection. A subtle indication she didn’t want to take the call. Whoever David was, Brent had no doubt she didn’t want to speak with him.

  While he waited, Brent studied her work on the rosebush. Hmm. Might as well make himself useful. He picked up the clippers and continued pruning the plant. Minutes passed as he trimmed off dead stems, finding enjoyment in the task. He’d be able to finish the chore and save Jill from being injured again.

  Memories rushed through his mind as he recalled doing this task for Lina. That seemed a lifetime ago. Like Arline, Brent’s wife had hated working outdoors. But he’d loved it. One more thing he had in common with Jill.

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  He flinched, scraping his hand against an angry thorn. He stood and gave a nervous chuckle. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  Jill indicated the roses, a gentle smile curving her lips. “You don’t need to do my work for me.”

  “I don’t mind. I used to prune the roses for my wife, to protect her from the nasty thorns.”

  She laughed. “In that case, you can prune them all you want. There’s a price to pay for this beauty, isn’t there?”

  He stared at her lovely face. “Yes, there sure is. Who is David?”

  Her smile dropped like a stone. He shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t his business, but he really wanted to know.

  “My ex-husband. He’s looking for an old picture of his mother. It must have gotten mixed up in my things so I told him I’d mail it to him.” She looked away, the happy moment evaporating like morning dew on rose petals.

>   “I think I heard from Mrs. Crawford that you were married once.” And why did he feel glad that she was now single? He wasn’t happy for her sadness, but he liked that she wasn’t attached to another man. Although, since he had no plans for asking her out, it didn’t make sense. Or did it?

  “Yes, but it seemed my husband liked dating other women more than he liked being married to me,” she said.

  “You mean he cheated on you?”

  “Yes. Many times.” Her voice cracked and so did his heart.

  “I’m sorry, Jill.” And he meant it. He understood loss, but so did she. A divorce and the death of her father couldn’t have been easy on her.

  “It’s okay. It’s time I moved on.” She looked down at her arm where the angry red scratches marred her alabaster skin.

  “You know, I think love is a lot like rosebushes,” he said.

  She lifted her brows. “How so?”

  “Love is beautiful. It’s absolutely wonderful. But when you lose someone you care about, it hurts like a thorn ripping through your heart.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Very true. That’s a great analogy.”

  Now, what had made him say that? He was being overly sentimental today. He bit down on his tongue, feeling like a heel. Her heart had been broken, just like his. Her pain tore him up inside. He couldn’t imagine being this woman’s husband and stepping out on her. Obviously her ex hadn’t appreciated the beautiful prize he’d been married to. If Jill were Brent’s wife, he’d love and cherish her. He’d never forget he was the luckiest man on earth.

  He reached out and brushed the dirt off her chin. A spontaneous gesture he didn’t think to stop until it was too late. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked such personal questions. I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories.”

  She drew away and he took one step back. A warning signal chimed inside his head, but he wanted to ignore it.

  She tilted her head, looking up at him. The sadness in her eyes tore at him. He wanted to comfort her somehow. To make her happy. To see her smile and laugh.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m free of him now. And he can date whomever he likes, as long as it isn’t me.” She gave a breezy laugh, but he could tell she was hurt.

  “We have a lot in common,” he murmured.

  She arched one brow.

  “We’ve both lost someone we cared about. We’ve both been hurt before.” Except that he and Lina had been in love when she’d died. And Lina hadn’t betrayed him the way Jill’s husband had done to her.

  She nodded, her voice soft. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for you to lose your wife.”

  “Yeah, but it’s been hardest on Evie, I think.”

  “But how have you coped?”

  He licked his lips, wondering if it was a good idea to confide so much to this woman. She was way too easy to talk to. Every time he was around her, he found himself liking her even more. “Honestly?”

  She nodded, her expression eager and sympathetic.

  “The Lord. I couldn’t do it without Him. Every day is so difficult, but I feel God in my life. He’s never deserted me, even in my darkest moments.”

  She looked away, and something about her demeanor told him she didn’t feel the same way.

  “You don’t believe in God?” he asked.

  She reached down and picked up her discarded gloves, tucking them inside the bucket. “I used to. But lately, I haven’t really wanted to talk to Him about anything. Especially the divorce. I feel guilty, angry and sad all at the same time. I don’t know how He can help me get over that.”

  “I know what you mean.” He smiled down at her, stepping closer.

  “You do?” A tear slipped down her cheek.

  He gave her forearm a gentle squeeze. “Yes, I do. When you’re hurt, you don’t want to talk to anyone. You want to hide out and be left alone. But I’ve learned that’s when we need to talk to God the most.”

  “Yes, I...I suppose you’re right. But it’s still hard.”

  “I know. And I can’t tell you how much I wish...” He couldn’t finish his sentence and his voice faded.

  He felt mesmerized. Drawn near to her like a gravitational pull. Her sorrow reached out and slowly reeled him in like a fish on a line.

  He kissed her. Gently. A soft caress as he breathed deeply of her floral scent. All coherent thought abandoned his dazed brain. All that mattered right now was Jill. Her needs and desires. Her hopes and dreams. He longed to make them all come true.

  She lifted a hand and placed her palm against his chest, just over his heart. It was beating so hard at that moment, he wondered if she could feel its rhythm beneath her fingertips.

  She shifted her body closer, returning his kiss. Breathing him in. But then, she pushed him away.

  “Brent, I can’t. Someone might see us.” A shuddering breath trembled over her as she cast a quick glance toward the house.

  His thoughts whirled, like a typhoon circling in his mind. What was he thinking? He’d kissed her right in her front yard, for all the world to see.

  Feeling guilty, he glanced over his shoulder, his gaze scanning the street. If any of the neighbors saw, they’d report it to Arline. And Brent didn’t want to cause Jill any more trouble.

  Relieved not to see someone peering at them, he turned back to Jill. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me. It won’t happen again.”

  At least, he hoped not. He must have experienced a moment of insanity. Definitely a serious lapse in judgment. But in spite of all they both had to lose, he wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his arms and hold her close against his heart.

  She turned away, hurrying toward the house. “We won’t speak about it again. We’ll forget it ever happened.”

  Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen.

  He stood frozen in place. Watching her go. Longing to call her back, but knowing he couldn’t do that. Not if he truly wanted to keep her safe.

  Instead, he returned to his truck where he sat with the window down to catch the cooling breeze, trying to sort his muddled thoughts. He waited for an hour, every moment a torture.

  What a fool he’d been. He shouldn’t have kissed her, because now he only wanted more. And he couldn’t have it. He couldn’t have Jill. Of all the women in this town, she was off-limits. Taboo. Because of who she was, and who he was, and all the complications in-between.

  So why did it have to be her that made his heart sing?

  Precisely an hour later, Jill walked Evie out to the street curb. The moment he saw them, Brent sat up straight, his senses on high alert.

  Jill waited on the sidewalk while he got out to greet his daughter. He opened Evie’s door and helped her climb into her seat before buckling her in. When he turned around, Jill was gone. He felt deflated and empty, not being able to say goodbye. But maybe that was for the best.

  Brent walked around to the driver’s seat and got into the truck.

  “Did you have fun with Jill?” he asked his daughter.

  Evie quickly wrote the word yes on her erase board, smiling wide for added emphasis.

  “Good. I’m glad.” As he started up the engine, he couldn’t help feeling as though he’d really messed up this time. He’d be lucky if Jill even spoke to him again.

  What had he done? What was he thinking by kissing Jill Russell? He didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize Evie getting better. He wouldn’t blame Jill if she told him not to bring his daughter over anymore. They could never be anything more than friends. He knew that better than anyone.

  So why couldn’t he stop wishing for more?

  Chapter Nine

  The following Monday, Brent returned Evie to Jill’s apartment above the garage. Standing at the top of the stairs, he knocked
on the door and wondered what Jill’s reception might be. He waited beside his daughter. The door opened and Jill gave them her normal welcoming smile.

  “What do you have there?” she asked Evie.

  The girl lifted her hands, a shy smile creasing her porcelain face.

  “Since you love roses, Evie wanted to give you one, to say thank you for everything you’ve done to help her,” Brent supplied.

  Jill pressed a hand against her chest and went down on one knee, looking Evie in the eyes. “Really? You brought a rosebush for me? How thoughtful of you.”

  Evie nodded and handed the plant over to Jill. Then the girl quickly scrawled some words on her dry-erase board: Dad said.

  Jill read the brief communication. “Your dad told you to bring the rose?”

  Evie nodded and wrote some more: My choice.

  “Ah,” Jill said. “You picked the rosebush out.”

  Another brisk nod.

  Jill studied the plant. It didn’t look like a rosebush, but rather several sticks of cane that had been lopped off at the top. But once it was planted, the bush would start to grow.

  “It’s a hybrid tea rose,” Brent said. “By summer’s end, its petals should be pink and fragrant. And the thorns are small and soft. Not the thick, heavy thorns that’ll slice through your arm.”

  Jill chuckled and glanced up at him. “That’s reassuring. Some of my mom’s rosebushes could cut through you like a machete.”

  She stood, holding the rosebush in one hand and taking hold of Evie’s hand with the other.

  “Instead of sitting outside in your truck, why don’t you come inside to wait?” she asked him.

  He blinked, stunned by the invitation. After he’d overstepped the bounds of propriety, he thought he’d be an even worse pariah than before.

  He glanced over his shoulder, almost feeling Arline’s steel-eyed glare against the back of his neck. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  She shrugged. “It’ll be more comfortable than waiting out in your truck for an hour, especially in this hot weather we’ve been having.” With her head bent, she peered askance at him. “I’ve got the newspaper and some magazines you can read while you wait. It’ll be fine, as long as you agree not to interfere with my teaching while you’re here.”