by Cathy Bryant
Another yawn escaped. If he expected to catch Trish on her trek to Austin, he had to wake up. A strong dose of caffeine would do the trick, but did he dare take the time knowing that Trish and Bo were somewhere on the road in front of him? He ran a hand over his whiskered chin. If it kept him from falling asleep at the wheel, a few minutes’ delay to grab some coffee would be well worth it.
He zipped the Z-3 under the golden arches and into the drive-through line, his teeth immediately set on edge by the blaring speaker. Okay, nobody had a right to be that peppy before six a.m. Inching forward behind the cars in front, he prayed for the millionth time. Lord, help me find them.
At the pick-up window, he reached for the cup with one hand and gave Happy Woman a five with the other, trying to infuse his tone with a friendliness he didn’t feel. “Keep the change.”
“Thank ya much! Come back and see us!”
Don’t count on it, lady. Andy eased forward enough to let the car behind him reach the window, then braked and cracked open the coffee lid. The aroma filled the confines of his sports car. He added two packets of sugar, stirred, and took a sip, feeling instantly revived. Too bad you couldn’t get this stuff as an IV drip. As he deposited the coffee cup in the holder on the console, his eyes widened in surprise at the sight before him. A lemon-yellow car sat in the last parking spot. Surely there wasn’t another car that same gosh-awful color. It had to be Trish.
His heart pounding, he steered into the only available space, then climbed from the car, praying for wisdom. He hurried to the driver’s side, then halted, a knife lodged in his gut.
Trish hunched over, her head covered by her hands, and her shoulders shaking.
Andy rapped gently on the car window.
She yanked her head toward him, her eyes red from crying, her mouth half-open, and her face streaked with tears.
From the backseat came an excited cry. “Andy! Andy!”
When the car window lowered, Andy reached into the backseat and grabbed Bo’s hand. “Hey, buddy!” He turned back to Trish, his heart breaking at the sorrow in her brown eyes. “Hi, Trish.”
She opened her mouth like she wanted to speak, then clamped her lips together and faced forward.
He lowered his head and released a sigh. How long would he have to fight this battle with her? “Don’t worry, Trish, I’m not here to rescue you.”
“That’s too bad.” She whispered the words, and then sniffled.
“What does that mean?”
“I could really use rescuing right now.” She choked out the words, then buried her head in her hands and sobbed some more.
In less than a heartbeat, Andy yanked open the car door and pulled her into his arms. She clung to him and cried. He caressed her hair with one hand, while his other arm held her close. Now was the time to say it. “I love you, Trish. Please let me help.”
She tore herself from his embrace, using her fingertips to swab at the tears on her cheeks. “Quite honestly, I could use a little help, but I’m not sure you’re ready.”
How could she say that? Didn’t the past few months prove how ready he was? Didn’t chasing her across Texas at an ungodly hour show her how he felt? “What are you talking about?”
Trish pointed to his pants. “I’m a little embarrassed to take help from a grown man who . . . ” She pulled both lips between her teeth, as if trying not to laugh, her amused gaze travelling over him.
Andy glanced down, fiery heat creeping up his torso, neck and face. In his haste to chase after them, he’d left Miller’s Creek in his green plaid pajama bottoms and coffee-stained t-shirt.
* * * * *
Trish leaned back in the passenger seat of her car and peered over at Andy. One arm draped the steering wheel as he chatted easily with her very excited little boy. Even in pajamas, with his sandy curls plastered to his head and his jaw covered with stubble, the sight of Andy sent a ribbon of delight spiraling through her insides. This felt so . . . so right, but was it?
It might not be right, but neither was moving to Austin. Not if it made Bo so miserable that he would run away to avoid it.
Andy pulled into a parking space at Walmart and turned off the engine, then faced her with that killer dimpled grin of his. “Hurry up, woman. I need some clothes if I’m gonna treat y’all to pancakes.”
“Yay for pancakes!” Bo raised both fists in the air, a different kid from the glum child who’d been in his place only a half hour earlier.
Trish smirked and reached for the door handle. “Well, if you guys would learn how to dress yourselves, we wouldn’t be making this little side trip.”
Laughter burst from Andy, a contagious sound that seemed to saturate every ounce of air in the car. He removed several bills from his wallet. “Point taken. Just grab a large button-down shirt, size 11 tennis shoes, and a pair of jeans, size 34-36.”
“And if those sizes aren’t available?”
“Then I guess I’ll play the penguin part again like I did at Steve and Dani’s wedding.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “In that case, I think I’ll buy a camera while I’m at it.” She unbuckled the seatbelt and sat up on her knees to rifle through the box in the back seat. A minute later she found what she was looking for and handed Bo a pair of shorts and a matching shirt. “Here, kiddo. Unbuckle and change into these while I’m in the store.”
As she traipsed across the mostly-empty parking lot, her thoughts turned to Andy, and she couldn’t help but notice the warm feeling flooding through her veins. All this wasted time. God had surely sent him their way, not just this morning, but back in April when he’d burst through the back doors of the church, messing with her decorations and her carefully-laid plans.
And now, wonder of all wonders, he’d told her that he loved her. Loved her.
She pulled a green button-up shirt from the rack. This would match his eyes perfectly. As she made her way to the men’s jeans, she thought about her own selfish reaction to Andy. In her pride, she’d done nothing but push him away, choosing to believe she had to do it on her own. But he hadn’t given up on her—or on her son. Andy knew better than anyone how to handle Bo—how to make him smile when he was grouchy, how to make him mind without shattering his fragile heart.
Trish grabbed a pair of size 11 white tennis shoes from the shoe department and made her way to the check-out. A few minutes later, she was back in the car.
“Wow, you’re fast!”
No, she was incredibly slow. Too slow. Especially when it came to catching on to what might have been God’s plan all along. Trish sent a wry smile. “Yeah, well, it helps when it’s early on a Sunday morning. The store was deserted.”
His eyes took on a scheming gleam. “How about going to church in Morganville after breakfast? Then we’ll grab a bucket of chicken and find a shady park at the lake for a picnic, so Bo can play and we can talk.”
She smiled her approval.
After locating an outdoor public restroom where he changed clothes, Andy treated them to a tasty sit-down breakfast at the local waffle house. Feasting on pancakes loaded with butter and blueberries, they spent the time laughing about their early morning adventure. With their bellies full, they opted to walk across the road to a small stone church for the worship service.
As they seated themselves, an elderly lady, her skin translucent and her eyes reflecting an inner light, turned around to shake their hands and introduce herself. “What a beautiful family you have.”
At that moment the music minister had everyone rise to sing, so Trish had no opportunity to correct the woman. Not that she wanted to. The early morning sun streamed through stained glass windows, and left a pattern of dappled light on the forest green carpet and maple-colored woodwork. Soon the preacher, a rotund, balding man, made his way to the pulpit. “Turn to Proverbs, chapter three, please.”
Trish’s heart fluttered. The chapter with the verses about trusting God. Was this some kind of sign? Could it be that God had been trying to get her attention sin
ce Dani and Steve’s wedding? The sound of turning pages whispered across the room. Trish located the passage and positioned her Bible so Andy could look on.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.”
Trish felt Andy’s eyes on her. She turned to meet his gaze. The look that passed between them possessed an electric energy that zapped its way through her and landed in a tingle in her toes. She inhaled a deep breath and focused her attention on the pastor.
“Trusting God is easy to say, but not so easy to do.”
How many times had she considered that very thought?
“I can say that I trust this pulpit to hold me up, but that’s not really trust. Trust is active. Only when I lean my weight against the pulpit is my trust proved. It’s the same with God. Only when we lean against Him—and not our own understanding—is our faith proved.”
Trish pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to the velvety pew cushion. Had she trusted God over the past few months or fought against Him? Had she leaned the weight of her worries against Him or her own understanding?
The pastor’s gentle voice lulled her back into the sermon. “We’re sensory creatures. We tend to base our decisions on what we can see, hear, smell, taste, and touch. But as children of the kingdom, we have another dimension to consider—a spiritual dimension—where God reigns and often moves in ways that are beyond our ability to understand.”
Her heart pounded faster, and she rubbed her arms to erase the chill bumps that gathered. God’s thoughts and ways were far above hers. Had His plan involved Andy all along? If so, she’d ignored all the signs, intent on finding her own way, sure that it was much too soon to give herself to another man.
“His timing is often puzzling to us, but once we put our trust in Him completely, with all our heart, we later can look back and see how He wove situations and days and moments and people together in a way that gives direction to our lives.”
Andy reached over and grabbed her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. She raised her gaze in utter amazement at what was taking place. He held her hand for the rest of the service and all the way to the car, then helped her and Bo into their seats. Soon they were on their way to the lake, the delicious aroma of fried chicken wafting from the large bucket they’d picked up on their way out of town.
As soon as lunch was over, Bo high-tailed it to the playground while the lake gently lapped against the shore. Trish watched his retreating back, then turned to Andy with a smile. “I don’t know what we would’ve done had you not showed up when you did.”
He frowned and concentrated his gaze on the ground. “I had to know you were okay. I—I wanted you to know how I felt before you left for Austin.”
Her heart pounded. His words proved how much he cared, but also revealed his vulnerability. He intentionally put himself in a vulnerable place, a place where his heart could get broken. Showered with shame, she gulped down her fear. “I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted over the past few months, Andy. I was just so confu—”
He held up one hand, his ocean eyes stormy and troubled. “You don’t have to explain. I know you’re still grieving your husband.”
Andy’s chest heaved. “I shouldn’t have pressured you so much. I moved too fast, and I’m sorry.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Trish chewed the inside of her cheek. The last thing she wanted to do was offend him, but she had to know.
“Anything.” His direct gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
“Do you think you’re just enamored with the idea of family, or do you . . . is it . . .?”
“How can you even ask me that, Trish?” The wounded expression on his face stabbed her heart. “Do you see me acting this way with other single women and their children?”
Her mind flitted to Carla and Brody. “I see you being kind to them.”
“Kind, yes, but do you see me pouring my life and heart into helping them?”
“No.”
“I’m not saying that to pressure you. I know you might not feel the same, that it might still be too early after your husband’s death for you to even consider it. I know you have other things you want to do with your life, besides—”
“No, I don’t.”
Andy looked up, the surprise on his face echoing her own. “What?”
“All I ever wanted to be is a wife and mother. Everything else is secondary.”
“But your design work. You’re so talented.”
“Maybe so, maybe not. My degree was something I did to appease my parents.” She hesitated, searching for words, while a mockingbird belted out his song from a nearby pole. “The truth is that I enjoy sharing my art skills with others, whether I get paid or not. If anything, trying to make a living off of it has made it less enjoyable.”
He studied her, and she allowed it, not feeling the least bit uncomfortable.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” His words came out throaty and husky with emotion. “I’ve been afraid to mention it. Afraid it would be one more wedge between us. I didn’t come from a great family like the one you have. My dad . . .” He blinked rapidly. “My dad is an alcoholic. He’s in a nursing home here in Morganville.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes, Matt told me when he came to town. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
A brief coolness descended on his face. “I don’t know. I guess because my past really has nothing to do with who I am today.”
“It has everything to do with who you are, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She reached across the concrete picnic table and grabbed his hand, drawing his attention. “Don’t you see that it’s made you the wonderful man you are today?”
He ducked his head, but continued to hold her hand. Finally he looked back up at her. “I guess I was afraid you’d dismiss me as suitable partner material if you knew. Sounds crazy now, but that’s how I felt.”
A breeze danced through the branches of the willow tree that stood beside the lake, and then caressed her face. She relished it for a moment, then did a quick scan of the playground to check on Bo. “We all deceive ourselves.” Just like she’d deceived herself into thinking she couldn’t accept help from others. It had taken a lot of courage for him to tell her the truth. One more thing to add to her list of things she admired about this man sitting across from her. “In all honesty, I wasn’t completely truthful with you, either. I didn’t want anyone to know how bad my financial situation was.”
“It wasn’t too hard to figure out.”
Trish laughed in spite of the seriousness of the conversation. “I’m sure it wasn’t, but at the time it felt like something I needed to keep hidden. Something no one could know. Something to be ashamed of.”
In a flurry, he moved around the table and straddled the bench next to her. He grabbed her shoulders, his eyes inches from hers. Her pulse pounded in her throat. “Trish, I’m tired of holding back, tired of not being completely honest with each other. I love you and I love Bo. I’m willing to wait if that’s what you want and need, but I refuse to continue to pretend I don’t care.”
Her heart melted at the sincerity in his eyes. She brought a hand to cup his cheek. “Andy, I care about you, too. I’m so grateful God sent you to me and Bo.”
The next thing she knew, his lips were on hers. His kiss was tender, but revealed the emotion he’d bottled for so long. She couldn’t be sure how long the kiss lasted, a moment or several minutes, but it ended when she felt Bo’s hand on her knee.
They both looked at him at the same time, a snaggle-toothed grin spread across his chubby-cheeked face. “Does this mean you like each other?”
Chapter 32
Trish leaned against the red brick of Miller’s Creek Community Church, checked her watch, and huffed out a disgruntled sigh. What was keeping Andy so long? He should’ve been here a half hour ago to help with the fall decorations for
Dad and Mama Beth’s last-minute wedding. A stickler for punctuality, Andy had fallen into the habit of being late. Especially, it seemed, when he was supposed to meet her.
The past few weeks since her return to Miller’s Creek, his attention had been constant, as if he were somehow trying to prove himself. Her emotions did battle within. Doubts, fears, and insecurities wanted her to believe Andy didn’t care as much as he professed. She did her best to push the imposters aside and replace them with an image of Andy’s loving eyes and kind heart.
Her cell phone vibrated in her hand. Andy. “Where are you? I need your help unloading the wedding decorations.”
“I know, Trish. I’m so sorry. I got hung up in court, and there are a few other things I’m trying to take care of as well.”
“What things?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” A cocky smugness resonated in his tone.
Why was he being so secretive? Doubts returned. Enough. She didn’t have time for this insecurity. Nor did she have time to wait on him. “Where are you?”
“I’m on my way. I should be there in five minutes.”
“Fine.” Feeling more than a little snarky, she clicked the phone shut, grabbed a box that wasn’t too heavy, and lugged it through the double wooden doors of the church. She’d done this on her own before. No reason why she couldn’t do it again.
On her own. Trish shook her head. Was she doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past? Would she ever move past her foolish tendency toward pride? She plopped down on the front pew and bowed her head. Lord, thank You for making me recognize when I start to wander from Your path. Forgive me for these fears, and help me to do better.
The side door swung open, and Andy sauntered in, his face lit with a grin that vanished when he saw her sitting there. He hurried to her side. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” He sat down beside her and plunked a kiss on her forehead. “Will you forgive me?”
She sent him a sideways mock glare. “Only if you’ll tell me what you’re up to.”