by Delia Latham
“Thank you.” She managed a faint whisper, suddenly unable to tear her gaze from his. “You’re always so sweet.”
He gave her hand a squeeze and released it. “Tell me about yourself. I know you have a cousin, that you live in Three Rivers, and that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Tell me more.”
She laughed and lifted one shoulder. “I’m not a very interesting subject. Let’s talk about you this time around.”
He studied her through a narrowed gaze for a couple of heartbeats and then nodded. “OK, I’ll go first, but I won’t forget that you haven’t shared yet.”
“Deal.”
“I grew up in Santa Barbara, where my parents still live. I moved to Cambria ten years ago, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made. I love this place.”
“I can see why. I love it too. Your home is beautiful.”
He nodded. “I am blessed. I bought that property and had the place built a couple of years after living in West Village for a year or so.” Pulling a wry face, he shook his head. “Not where I wanted to be, so…I started looking for a place to make my own. My grandmother passed away just about the time I moved in where I am now, and I inherited several pieces of her furniture and household items.” He grinned. “Does it make me sound less than masculine to admit that I treasure those pieces? The moment I brought them in, my house became a home. They’re familiar and hold a lot of treasured memories.”
“I don’t think that makes you less masculine.” Summer held his gaze without shying away. “There’s something incredibly attractive about a man who loves his family and treasures familial connections and memories.”
His eyebrows shot upward, but he said nothing, and Summer released a slow, relieved breath. She’d found it hard enough to voice the rather sideways compliment. Thank God he wasn’t the type to play on it and cause her further embarrassment. His only response, other than the surprised lift of his brows, was a murmured ‘thank you.’
Summer hurried to keep the conversation moving. “Are you an only child? I notice you haven’t mentioned any siblings.”
His jaw hardened, and a shadow darkened his eyes.
Summer caught her breath. Oh, no…she had wandered onto a touchy subject.
“Logan, it’s all right. You don’t have to—”
“I have a sister.”
Confused, she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“She isn’t easy to talk about. I love Lynn…she’ll always be my sweet little sister—in my heart. But she chose some years ago to have nothing to do with her family.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, but Summer didn’t miss the pain in his eyes. “She made her decision, and we’ve learned to live with it. To be honest, I’m glad she moved away, so my parents don’t have to witness their little girl living a lifestyle so opposite of the values and morals they taught her. It’s hard enough for me to see it.”
“She lives here in Cambria, then?”
“No.” He shook his head and huffed out a breath. “I make an occasional trip into Los Angeles, just to look in on her, make sure she’s still alive. It’s never enjoyable.”
“Oh, Logan…I’m so sorry.”
He offered a sideways grin that did nothing to alleviate the shadow in his gaze. “Thank you, Summer. Now it’s your turn. What deep, dark secrets are you hiding?”
She clamped her teeth down on her lip and then pulled in a deep breath. “Well, you certainly don’t hold a monopoly on skeletons in the closet. My dad was an alcoholic and extremely abusive.”
Logan’s gaze widened, and he sat forward in his chair, a frown creasing his brow.
Summer hurried on. “He’s gone now. He died following an injury in a bar fight. I was six.” She sighed. “My mother cried for days, and I remember wondering why.” She looked into sympathetic, woodsy-green eyes, wondering where she’d found the courage to share something she’d never told anyone until now. “He never hurt me physically, but I’m pretty sure that’s because Mama took my punishment and hers. He used to beat her until she couldn’t stand up. He’d yell insults at both of us, saying how worthless and ugly and unlovable we were—that we should stay hidden away inside at all times, so people didn’t have to endure the sight of us.”
A tear fell, surprising her. She hadn’t cried over her father’s cruelty in a long time. “He said that’s why he stayed away from home so much—because his wife and daughter were hideous, that looking at us turned his stomach and made him want to drink until his vision blurred.”
Logan made an odd, choking sound and reached again for her hand.
She allowed him to take it, and absorbed his warmth into her soul.
“Summer—” He broke off, made a choked sound and cleared his throat. “They were all lies. You know that, don’t you? Your father was…I’m sorry, honey, but he was a sick man. He needed help.”
She managed a shaky smile. “Intellectually, I do know that, but sometimes I still have to remind myself. My dad was a sad, insecure man who needed to make Mama and me feel bad in order to make himself feel better. Funny thing is, my mother never bought into his lies. She would take me into my room after every horrible, ugly scene, and make me look at—” She broke off, grateful that he didn’t push her to continue until she was ready. At last, she was. “At this.”
She slipped her hand from Logan’s strong grip, opened her purse, and removed a small hand mirror encrusted with shiny, fake jewels. Without a word, she offered it to Logan, who reverently accepted the item without removing his gaze from her face.
“Please…look at it.” She tilted her head toward the little looking glass.
Logan nodded but seemed to have a hard time doing as she asked. When at last he focused on the mirror, he gave it only a cursory glance. “Pretty.”
“No, not the back. That’s just adornment—cheap sparkle and shine. Just surface stuff. Turn it over, Logan. Look again.”
He lifted the mirror in front of his face so he could look into its reflective surface.
“What do you see?”
He chuckled. “Just a guy with a weird, confused look on his face.”
“No, no, no. Look deeper.”
He looked again. “Um…what am I supposed to see?”
“Oh, Logan, don’t you know? You’re looking at a child of God! A prince—the much-loved son of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Logan Bullard is the perfect, cherished heir of Jesus Christ. No matter what goes on around you, or what others might say, never ever forget who you are. You are loved. You are royalty. You are God’s beautiful, chosen child!”
Logan cleared his throat again. He offered Summer the mirror, and when she took it, he lifted his water goblet and downed a long swallow. Then he opened both of his hands in an invitation.
Summer laid hers in them, relishing the sense of security in the firm but gentle grip of his fingers.
“You had an amazing mother, Summer. Is she…gone?”
She nodded. “She died when I was twelve. Her brother came to Los Angeles and took me home with him. I lived with Uncle Barry and Aunt Grace—and Deah, of course—until I started college.”
“Are they believers, your aunt and uncle?”
She hesitated. “They attend church, so I assume so. They’re good people—the best. But, to be honest, they’ve never demonstrated quite the same oneness with Christ that I always felt when my mother talked about Him, or told me Bible stories, or read to me from the scriptures. There’s a difference, and the only way I know to explain it is that Uncle Barry and Aunt Grace know about God, but Mama…well, Mama knew God.” She bit at her lip and raised one eyebrow. “Does that make any kind of sense?”
“It makes perfect sense.” Logan shook his head. “Sometimes you say things that amaze me, Summer. You’re so sweet. Shy. Quiet. But then you spout out these startling bits of wisdom, and I realize you’re far more than just a beautiful face.” He winked and squeezed one of the hands he held. “I love that about you
.”
A soft burst of laughter surprised her. Under the circumstances, she would have expected no less than withdrawal on her part—uncomfortable, painful silence. But Logan’s compliments and admiration placed her out of her comfort zone, she was more at ease with him than she’d ever felt with anyone before. “Please don’t start thinking of me as some kind of all-knowing entity. I don’t want to disappoint you. The truth is, I’m pretty simple at heart. The only wise things I know came from my mother or from the Bible itself—they’re available to anyone.”
“Yes, but just because the King sets out a feast does not mean all of His subjects partake of it. Your mother did, and she shared the bounty with you in a beautiful way. I wish I’d known her.”
“So do I. She’d have loved you, Logan.”
He smiled but said nothing as the waiter appeared with their meals. When the young man silently glided away, Logan took her hands again. “I hope her daughter will too…someday. Now, let’s pray.” He bowed his head and said a quiet prayer of thanks.
Summer’s heart raced like a runaway pony.
9
After dinner, he took her to the beach behind his house. He’d clearly prepared earlier for their visit. Near a sizeable flat rock, a quilt waited. Spread flat on the sand, it was held in place by small stakes clipped to each corner and driven into the ground. A folded blanket, weighted against the wind by a couple of bottles and wine glasses, lay atop the quilt.
Summer refrained from asking questions, even though she ached to know what kind of surprise he could be planning here at the close of day.
Logan helped her get settled on the quilt, and then opened one of the bottles and offered her a filled glass. “Sparkling cider? It’s a good one, from the Harmony winery. I hope you weren’t hoping for something stronger. My mother raised a teetotaler.”
“So did mine.” She accepted the glass and waited while he poured another for himself, settled in beside her and pulled the second blanket around both their shoulders.
“Now what?” Summer had to ask.
He sipped at his cider and winked. “Now we wait.”
They chatted as the sun—a huge, red ball in the eastern sky—sank closer and closer to the distant horizon. At one point, Logan looked over their shoulders and then touched his forehead to the top of her head. “Look at the sky behind us.” He pulled away then, freeing her to breathe, which seemed harder than it should be with his face so close to hers.
Summer swiveled on the blanket and gasped.
“How?” she breathed.
“I know the colors don’t seem right for the answer, but it’s a reflection off the sunset.”
“It’s absolutely stunning.”
An entire rainbow of color cloaked the distant mountains. They lay outlined against a wide swath of deepest indigo, fading into a glorious width of violet. Soft pink oozed from beneath the violet, becoming coral in the next stripe of translucent color…and fading finally into palest yellow.
“It’s like something out of a beautiful dream.” Summer trembled a little—and not from the cool wind blowing off the Pacific. The moment vibrated with Spirit touches.
She choked on grateful tears, and longed to dance with praise, but couldn’t find the courage.
Logan gently turned her to face the ocean again. “This is a double treat, honey. You can’t always see it because of the mist over the ocean, but today’s so clear, I think it will happen.”
“What will happen?” Summer’s voice sounded raspy, having fought its way through the emotion clogging her throat.
“You’ll see. Watch the sun.”
The huge ball of fire dropped closer and closer to the distant horizon, its golden glow reflecting in glorious splendor on the ocean’s surface as night stole in and dropped a dark cloak over the water.
“It’ll happen quickly now. Don’t look away.” Logan’s whispered words sent a shiver of a different kind skittering over Summer’s soul.
The sun slid behind the horizon one unbelievable slice at a time. At first losing its bottom arc, it then—seemingly inch by inch—became a huge, orange half-circle poised in shining glory. With ever increasing speed, it dropped lower. Summer held her breath as the stunning display became a tiny sliver, and then simply disappeared into the ocean.
She knew that wasn’t what happened, but it certainly seemed so as she sat there on the sand, cradled close to Logan’s side.
With the sun gone, she swung around for a last look behind her. The reflective colors had faded to nothing more than a thin sliver of yellow. Burying her head in Logan’s chest, she wept.
He held her. No questions, no words of needless comfort.
Finally, she sniffed and raised her gaze to his. “I need to dance.”
He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. “Dance.”
She rose, unable to believe her own boldness. Not even a shadow of shyness haunted her in that moment, driven as she was by a burning desire to praise the Lord in the best way she knew how. She’d have to do it even if the beach were full of people.
Only Logan shared the moment with her…and she was glad.
Forcing him from her mind, she focused on the glory she had just witnessed.
After the first, hesitant step, she was lost in worship. Every turn of her head and sway of her body, each bend and swoop and pirouette raised another billow of praise for the goodness of God, and thanks for His beautiful gift of the sunset just past.
Summer danced in the dying light, tears on her cheeks, heart overflowing with the highest praise. When darkness had fallen over the beach and only the sound of the waves and the glint of moonlight on water testified to the presence of the ocean a few feet away, she finally wilted to the ground, spent…and completely fulfilled.
Logan gave her a moment of silence, and then walked to her side. He offered his hand, and when she took it, he drew her up and into his arms. “That was the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
“How can you say that, after the sunset we just shared?”
“Summer, take my word for it. When you dance, even creation stands in awe.” He tugged her a little closer and traced the tip of one finger around her lips.
Her eyes widened and she pulled in a hitching breath.
“I’m going to kiss you now, my Summer dream.” Not a question. A very decisive statement. Still, he waited until she gave a tentative nod. Then Logan closed the distance between his lips and hers.
Summer sank into his embrace, and her heart flitted away in a dance of its own.
****
Logan turned the car off the highway and onto the private road leading to Paradise Pines. He drove slowly, reluctant to bring the evening to an end. Never in his life had he enjoyed anyone’s company the way he’d enjoyed that of the woman beside him. He never wanted to say goodbye to her. Ease up, Bullard. She’s not going anywhere…at least, not tonight.
But that dance…oh, what it had done to his heart!
Even now, with Summer tucked into the passenger seat, her hand in his, his mind still replayed the scene.
She’d floated across the sand as if her feet had wings. Her body bent and swayed and swooped in beautiful, fluid movements…each of which roped in his heart a little more. Every inch of her body had spoken praise. She’d not been moving about out there on the beach to attract him. On the contrary, he felt certain she’d completely forgotten his existence while she worshipped.
He’d experienced a soul-reaction every bit as strong as the emotional one that already threatened to overwhelm him. By the time she melted onto the ground as if she’d spent every ounce of physical strength in that amazing, unforgettable praise dance, tears he hadn’t been aware of streaked his face. His hands were in the air—unlike Summer, he hadn’t learned to use his entire body as an instrument, but he knew how to offer his heart and hands to the God Who had brought not only that stunning sunset, but this glorious woman into his life.
And then he’d kissed her, and his lif
e was forever changed. Behind his closed eyelids, he’d witnessed another sunset every bit as vivid, powerful and as full of color as the one they’d shared moments earlier. Forevermore, his heart belonged to the woman who now rode in tranquil silence at his side.
“The lights are on in Miss Angie’s apartment.”
Summer’s soft voice jolted him from his reverie, and he focused on the scene ahead.
The lodge glowed. It appeared as if every light on the lower floor had been switched on.
“Is that normal?” he asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the place so bright, but then, I’m not often here at this time of evening.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Summer’s brow creased. “And look—there’s a light on in my place, as well. Deah was here when I left, but she was on her way out. If she left the lights burning, it would be the first time ever. She’s actually really good about that.”
“Hmm.” He parked in the driveway. “Sit tight.”
He hurried around to open her door and helped her out. “Maybe we should look in on Miss Angie before you go up. What do you think?”
“Yes, let’s do that. I’m a little concerned.” She offered a shaky smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Logan slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side. “I’m sure everything’s all right. Don’t worry.” He tapped on the door, and it swung open almost immediately, but it wasn’t Miss Angie who greeted them.
Beside him, Summer stiffened. “Deah? What—? Why are you here?”
“Come on in, you two.” The girl spoke in a hushed tone and swung the door wide, motioning them in with silent gestures.
Logan’s stomach reacted with a sick flip-flop. “Where’s Miss Angie?”
Deah raised a slender finger to her lips and pointed through the archway into the living room where the white-haired hostess lay beneath the same soft blanket she’d spread over Summer the day she’d nearly drowned. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks pale in the dim light.