“I can help her from here,” Jack told Leggott and Margot.
Leggott muttered something else into his phone and nodded. “The chief said that’s fine.”
A moment later, they disappeared from sight and Jack turned to Juliette.
Jack quickly observed how Juliette’s pert nose had turned red from the cold and how her honey-colored hair blew in the chilly wind. “Listen, why don’t you let me give you a ride to wherever you’re going? Would that be okay?”
She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“You’re not. I came here to check on you anyway.”
Juliette’s eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”
He shrugged. “I am a pastor. It’s kind of what I do.”
Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away. “Of course.”
Jack studied her, trying to read her reaction. It was no use. He had no idea what the woman was thinking. Had he embarrassed her? Disappointed her? Been too pushy?
She shifted her weight, something deep lingering in her gaze. “Listen, I need to apologize for yesterday. I wasn’t myself. I should have never asked you—more like begged you—to stay with me at the clinic. It was out of line, and I’m embarrassed that I put you in that position—”
“Juliette, you don’t need to be embarrassed or apologize. You were traumatized.” Jack smiled gently and tried to reassure her. Her apology showed humility and gratitude—and that made him want to help her even more. “And I don’t mind.”
A faint smile brushed her lips. “If you really don’t mind, I will take that ride.”
Jack didn’t let go of her arm, sensing she needed someone to help steady her, as he led her toward the sedan he drove. Before he could secure her inside, another sedan squealed to a halt beside them.
“Juliette Grace?” Serena Lavinia rushed from the car, sounding breathless.
Juliette froze and turned. “Yes?”
“I’m your driver. Sorry I’m late. Mr. Tingle’s goats got out, and they were blocking the street.” Serena’s hands flew in the air, and her words came out so quickly that they left an aftershock behind.
“What?” Juliette blinked, as if confused.
Serena waved her hand in the air. “Never mind. I’m just sorry I’m late.”
Jack knew Serena could be a little overwhelming at times. The young woman was college-age, and today she was dressed almost like a postal worker, wearing a blue button-up shirt and matching slacks, with shiny black shoes. Her long, dark hair had been pulled back into a bun.
“I’m going to give her a ride, Serena,” Jack said, knowing he had to step in.
Serena frowned. “But she’s my first ride. I just started with Deals on Wheels. It’s kind of like Uber, but island-sized. I thought in the summer I might drive Elsa and let people ride in the ice cream truck. Wouldn’t people get a hoot out of that?”
Jack glanced at Serena’s car. Not only was the back bumper missing, but there were also numerous dings and scrapes. One of the sideview mirrors was held on with duct tape. The vehicle didn’t scream “reliable” by any means.
Then again, it fit Serena to a T.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you on your first day, but I’m going to give Juliette a ride.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Here’s some money for your time.”
Serena looked like she wanted to argue but then took the money. “Okay, then.”
“I guess ice cream sales are slow at this time of year,” Jack commented as he helped Juliette into his vehicle.
“You can say that again. I’m trying to think of some other ways to earn some money in the meantime. On top of writing articles for the island newspaper, I have a few babysitting jobs also. And I designed these new Lantern Beach T-shirts I’m going to sell on the side of the road. What do you think?”
She opened her car door and pulled out a shirt. I came. I saw. I selfied. Lantern Beach, NC.
“I like it,” Jack said. “Good luck with your new ventures, Serena.”
Serena raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe in luck, do you? Don’t you mean: may your new paths be blessed and find favor?”
She said the words with a dramatic voice, like she was quoting Shakespeare, and she raised a hand in the air, letting it hang at the wrist like any good thespian might.
Tension pulled across Jack’s chest. The pressure of always having to say the right thing . . . it felt like too much sometimes. “I think you know what I mean.”
She’d meant her comment to be funny. Jack was the one who needed to relax.
Serena shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you around!”
Snapping back into happy-go-lucky mode, Serena hopped into her car and took off. Jack shook his head. That woman was a character, and she certainly made things interesting around here in Lantern Beach.
After he’d closed Juliette’s door, Jack went around and climbed into the driver’s side seat.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing right now. He hadn’t planned on any of this. But Juliette had looked so lost and alone that Jack couldn’t bring himself to leave her. No, everyone needed someone they could depend on when times got tough, and this woman obviously had no one right now. That was unacceptable.
No one stands alone. That was their theme for the Bible study they’d been doing at church. And he could think of no better way to put that into action than by helping Juliette now.
He cranked the engine and turned up the heat, holding his hands over the vents until he felt warm air come out.
“She seemed interesting,” Juliette sat with her hands folded in her lap, the picture of demure.
Jack looked over, always entertained by Serena. “Who? Serena? Oh, she is. She changes personalities—and jobs—like most people change clothes.”
“She could be a character in a book.”
Jack held his hands over the heat vent. “Yes, she could be. There are a lot of interesting people in this town, I’m discovering.”
Juliette leaned back in her seat, looking slightly more relaxed. “How long have you been here?”
“A little less than six months. I was a chaplain over in Iraq before this.” He finally put his hands on the wheel and backed out.
Juliette shivered. “Iraq? I can’t imagine.”
“It was pretty intense at times. But those guys fighting over there need Jesus as much as anyone.” A heaviness laced his words as he pulled onto the road.
“I can see why.” Juliette pulled her arms across her chest and stared out the window a moment as the landscape blurred past.
Jack stole a glance at Juliette and tried to imagine how she might be feeling. Tried to formulate the best way to help her. Tried to guess what her boundaries might be, and if she would even accept any help he offered.
Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, “Listen, did they feed you in the clinic?”
She shrugged. “I had some oatmeal, but I’ve never been a big fan. And their coffee? It was like brown water.”
“How about if I take you for some breakfast?” Jack glanced at his watch. “Or maybe an early lunch.”
A flash of something unreadable lit in Juliette’s eyes. Gratitude? Hope? Fear? Jack wasn’t sure.
“You don’t have to do that,” she finally said, swallowing so hard that Jack couldn’t help but notice.
“I don’t mind. You look like you could use a listening ear. But no pressure. Do whatever you’re comfortable with. But eating a meal together never hurt anyone.”
She licked her lips. “And you’re a pastor, like you said. This is what you do. You listen.”
“Exactly.” Was she afraid he was hitting on her? He didn’t know.
Juliette didn’t say anything for a moment until she finally nodded. “Okay. If you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on your offer. It beats being at my place alone.”
Chapter Nine
Juliette paused, closed her eyes, and absorbed the smells and sounds of the restaurant ar
ound her. She’d seen the name on the sign. The Crazy Chefette. A picture beside the name showed a woman in a lab coat with a spatula in one hand and a beaker in the other.
The place didn’t look like much outside—a pink and yellow two-story building surrounded by a gravel parking lot with a widow’s walk on top. It was in the middle of the island, just before the downtown boardwalk area came into view.
But inside . . . cheerful Christmas music played overhead.
The scent of cinnamon, baked apples, and pine tantalized her senses.
Pine? In a restaurant?
When she opened her eyes again, she saw Christmas trees set up in a corner, festive string lights dangling from overhead, and colorful stockings on one wall. A sign above them indicated they were gifts for the area’s widows and widowers.
Nice. And the Christmas trees explained the evergreen scent.
Juliette already liked the place.
“Jack! Good to see you!” A cheerful blonde wearing a Santa apron stopped in front of them, a wooden spoon covered in batter in her hand. “Who’s this with you?”
“Lisa, this is Juliette. Juliette, Lisa Garth. Lisa owns this place.”
Lisa’s smile widened. “So nice to meet you. You guys want to sit with the gang? They’ll make room.”
“I’d hate to overwhelm Juliette. If you don’t mind, we’ll pass this time.”
“Of course. Pick a seat, any seat, and I’ll bring you some menus in a moment. I’m testing out a few new recipes and got a little carried away. But, seriously—have you ever had cookie dough dip? It’s one of the best culinary creations in ages. But cookie dough dip with bacon? It’s the bee’s knees. Just ask them.”
Lisa nodded to a group in the distance. Four people—Lisa’s friends, Juliette assumed—sat at a table there, munching on something sitting at the center of it. Cookie dough dip with bacon maybe? The recipe didn’t sound appealing to her, but the dish could be tasty, if you liked that kind of thing.
Juliette copied the woman’s smile. What she wouldn’t do to have that much enthusiasm. How had life beat her down so easily and changed her from a young hopeful into a cautious skeptic?
Jack waved to the group in the corner before leading Juliette to the other side of the restaurant. As “All I Want for Christmas is You” crooned overhead, another moment of loss hit her.
How had a life that had felt so full at one time boiled down to this?
It must be the pain medication she’d taken, because Juliette’s thoughts were running ahead of her and she was having trouble reigning them in. This was no time for sadness. But Christmas had always been hard for her, hadn’t it?
“Lisa is known for her unique recipes,” Jack shared, slipping his coat off and sitting across from her in the booth. “I guess you could say that her entrees keep your taste buds guessing.”
“I think that sounds refreshing, actually. It’s hard to find anything surprising lately.” Juliette nodded toward an article that had been framed and hung on the wall. “It looks like the critics like what she has to offer. One of the Ten Most Fun Restaurants in North Carolina, huh?”
“That’s right. In the summer, Lisa has this great grilled cheese and peach sandwich.”
Juliette smiled. “Maybe I’ll have to come back in the summer and try it then.”
She glanced at the menu. There certainly were some unique Christmas foods.
Christmas pizza with turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, and gravy on a cranberry relish.
Christmas fruitcake burger—ground beef with red and green pepper, as well as pineapple.
Grinch popcorn with peppermint ice cream.
Surprisingly, they all sounded good.
Lisa appeared again and set some coffee in front of them. “Here you go. It’s on the house. Any idea what you want to order?”
Jack closed his menu. “How about you surprise me? Your food never disappoints.”
“Great. I’m totally bringing you the Christmas fruitcake burger then.” A bright smile lit her face.
“I’ll take the same,” Juliette said. “As long as it comes with those homemade potato chips.”
“You know it!” Lisa twirled around, headed back toward the kitchen, but called over her shoulder, “Give me a few minutes, and lunch will be served.”
Jack turned to Juliette, his eyes still as warm and welcoming as ever. She wished she could just enjoy this moment. Instead, her gaze scanned the crowds in the restaurant. Was her stalker here? Could she be looking at him and not realize it?
“That group over there acting as taste testers?” Jack shifted in his seat and nodded across the restaurant. “They’re in a Bible study group together. Austin is a contractor. Skye owns a produce stand. Wes is a plumber and kayak guide.”
It was as if Jack could sense her questions and was trying to put her at ease. She appreciated his effort and didn’t stop him.
“That’s Carter Denver behind them. He’s our local singer and songwriter. Talented guy. Rumor has it that he’s sold some songs that went on to be hits, and he’s living off those royalties. He’s never admitted that, though.”
“Fascinating.”
He continued until he’d pointed out everyone in the restaurant—and they were all locals, all people Jack recognized.
In other words, none of them were her stalker.
“Under different circumstances, this town might be my muse.” She didn’t tell many people this, but she’d lost that muse lately. She’d been simply going through the motions of writing instead of feeling inspired and moved by her own words.
Jack shifted again. “So, you said you’re from Atlanta.”
It was such a simple statement, one that anyone might use to start a conversation. Yet, Juliette’s guard was always up lately. Trusting the wrong person could get her killed.
But there was something about Jack that seemed trustworthy. The man had rescued her, for goodness sake. Not everyone had malicious intentions.
“Yes, Atlanta. I grew up there and ended up staying.”
Jack nodded slowly. “Nice area down that way.”
“It is nice. There really is nothing to complain about, except maybe traffic.”
“And you said you write books.”
“That’s right. I write romances. Clean ones,” she added, remembering who she was talking to.
“How many?”
“Nineteen. My twentieth comes out in two months.”
“Impressive. Any that this non-romance reader may have heard about?”
She took a sip of her coffee, observing him for a moment. Pastors shouldn’t look that handsome. Jack had a casual look, with messy hair, the shadow of a beard, and a muscular build. He was certainly a change from the preacher at her church. Pastor Mike was a wonderful man—but he was also fifty pounds overweight and bald.
“I don’t know,” Juliette said. “Did you ever see the movie A Christmas to Remember?”
“As a matter of fact, I did see that one on TV. My wife loved it.”
Juliette flinched. “Your wife?”
She hadn’t expected that. No, all the vibes Jack gave off indicated he was single . . . or Juliette would have never come to eat with him alone. Besides, hadn’t he said that at the clinic? That he wasn’t married?
Maybe she shouldn’t have trusted him so easily.
Jack pressed his lips together. “She . . . she passed away two years ago.”
Juliette’s heart pounded with compassion, with realization. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Jack seemed so young to have lost a spouse. But that would explain the sadness in his gaze and the depth of his spirit.
He cleared his throat, and a weary smile passed his lips. “She’s in a better place now. But I do miss her, especially at this time of year.”
“This is the worst time of year to be alone, isn’t it?” Juliette heard the wistfulness in her voice and chided herself for being so vulnerable. She’d learned the hard way it was best not to show people all her scratches and
bruises. Something about Jack made it easy to open up.
But as Juliette looked in the distance and saw Lisa wrap her arms around a burly man with a big grin, her heart ached again.
“It is hard.” Jack’s gaze traveled across the room and he watched Lisa a moment also. “This island takes its Christmas celebrations very seriously. The lights, the fireplaces, even just gathering to sing Christmas carols . . . it does seem to beckon togetherness, doesn’t it?”
He understood, didn’t he? The realization shouldn’t bring Juliette satisfaction. It was selfish to find comfort in the fact that another person had suffered like she had. Well, not exactly like she had. But, still, Jack could relate to her feelings.
Why had she known the man for less than a day, and yet she felt like she’d run into an old friend?
Their food was delivered just then. Jack prayed over it, and then they both dug in.
Juliette had to admit that the hamburger was delicious. And she was hungrier than she’d realized.
She wiped her mouth with a soft paper napkin. “How about you, Jack? How did you become a pastor?”
His neck muscles visibly tightened.
Interesting.
What was behind that reaction?
“My older brother—he’s eight years older—went off to war. I saw how it changed him, and I realized there was a lot more to taking care of soldiers than treating them physically. They needed someone trustworthy to talk to, to lean on. They needed answers that went beyond the things of this earth.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Absolutely. My mother died when I was twelve, and the only comfort I found was in knowing Jesus and knowing my mom was with Him. I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do than share that hope with others. I knew I wanted to do that on the battlefield.”
“That’s really beautiful.” But there was something more to his words. A sadness.
The man had suffered a lot of loss. Juliette knew that sadness and faith could, at times, walk hand in hand. People wanted to think that following Jesus meant life would somehow be more blessed—and it was. But not in a worldly sense. The rain still came, bringing with it the seasons of sorrow. God was there to walk believers through those times.
Storm of Doubt Page 5