by Lyn Cote
She didn’t want Guthrie to be alone right now. Billy’s losing Hunter might have rocked the new equilibrium of Guthrie trying to get along with his errant brother-in-law. Guthrie hadn’t reacted with anger or recriminations, as she’d feared. She wanted to know why. “I’ll leave my car for my parents. Can I have a ride home with you?”
He nodded and soon held the door open for her to climb into his truck. As he drove onto the highway, the rain, which had been holding off all day, finally began. A rhythmic pitter-patter over their heads gave Hannah a melancholy feeling. Guthrie appeared to drive on autopilot, not really aware of her presence.
Finally, she drew in a deep breath. “Thanks for not going ballistic over Hunter being lost.”
“I wanted to.”
She heard both the grudge and the honesty in his voice. “I know you did. That’s why I’m thanking you for not making things worse than they were.”
“Kids wander off.”
“They do.” She couldn’t believe her ears. He wasn’t blaming Billy!
“I could see that Billy was really terrified when he thought he’d lost Hunter.” He spoke the words as if they’d been and still were a revelation to him.
“Yes, I’m glad you saw that.” Inwardly, she rejoiced for Guthrie’s change of heart. A major breakthrough.
She ventured on, choosing her words with care. “Billy is good with the kids. I think he’s learning to be a father more each time he’s with them. You have to remember he didn’t have a father and he hasn’t had the years of experience you’ve had with the kids.”
Guthrie nodded, but distractedly, as though his mind was filled to the brim with conflicting thoughts.
She let him wrestle with switching his mind-set against his brother-in-law to acceptance that Billy had become a new man. She stared at the gray scene beyond the windshield. The steady rain infused her with a feeling that the two of them in the truck cab were cut off from the rest of the world. Maybe Guthrie had the same feeling.
Finally, he spoke up. “I saw how Lynda turned to Billy when Hunter came up missing. I think she’s starting to have feelings for him again.”
“I think she’s learning to,” Hannah replied haltingly. “Billy’s not the only one who’s changed, you know. I don’t think Lynda is the same woman she was at seventeen when Billy married her.”
“How do you mean that?”
“Well, life changes all of us.” She propped her elbow by the passenger window and set her chin on her hand. “I’ve gone through something similar.” She cleared her throat. “Until recently, I was engaged.”
“You were?”
She nodded.
“Can you… Do you mind…?”
“No, I don’t mind. I was engaged to Edward for three years. We attended the same college, and he gave me a ring our senior year.”
Guthrie looked surprised as he drove into the yard between his house and the barn and parked. The rain thundered overhead. Neither of them moved to venture outside the truck.
“What happened?” he asked.
She felt a freedom blossoming inside her. She’d wanted to put her thinking about Edward into words for weeks. But in Petite, she hadn’t had anyone she’d wanted to confide in—except this man. She hadn’t realized that until right now. She wanted to tell Guthrie. She hoped he’d understand. “I don’t think either of us was seeing clearly or had become our real selves, our adult selves, yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t really acting like myself.” She looked into his face. “In fact, I didn’t really know myself yet. I didn’t realize it at the time. I was so caught up in wanting to be a pastor’s wife like my mother that I’d assumed a persona that didn’t fit me, and I agreed to marry a man I wasn’t deeply in love with.”
“You weren’t in love with him?”
She shook her head. “Not deeply. Not till-death-do-us-part deep. I must have thought he was just like my father. You see, I wanted to marry someone good and wise like Dad.”
“Your fiancé wasn’t good and wise?”
“No, or maybe I shouldn’t say that. But just because he wanted to be a pastor didn’t mean he was just like my father. And it was wrong of me to expect him, anyone, to be. But it wasn’t just Edward.
“I’ve changed so much since I finally faced the truth about how wrong my assumptions were. I think I was only a shadow of myself. Breaking out of a mousy self-image, coming here to Petite, taking on the challenge of working with you, I feel like a totally different woman.” Speaking these words liberated her as if wind lifted her wings and she was flying.
Guthrie nodded. He tried to imagine Hannah’s fiancé. What man would be willing to give up an interesting and warmhearted woman like Hannah?
“I think Edward realized something was wrong long before I did. I hung on until it was painfully obvious that it wasn’t going to work out with us. Breaking the engagement hurt.” She inhaled deeply and smiled at him. “Now I’m glad I broke it off. I just wish he’d said something earlier instead of letting it drag out for nearly three years.”
“Maybe he didn’t think it was right for a man to beg off.”
Her eyes serious, she pursed her lips and nodded. “You’re probably right. But then I discovered…”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
She twisted on the seat to face him and inched closer. “I want to…if you don’t mind listening.”
“I’d be honored.” His throat thickened.
She stared at the window beyond Guthrie’s head, then made eye contact with him. “Two months after I broke up with Edward, he married someone else.”
“Two months?” He was incredulous. “He—he was…”
She nodded, obviously in pain. “He must have been seeing her. That’s what hurts.”
“It would.”
“Even if Edward hadn’t been dating her, he must have known that he had feelings for her, not me.”
Guthrie couldn’t speak. His throat had closed up. He reached over and pulled her to him. He wanted to comfort her. But the feeling of her softness in his arms went to his head. Hannah, Hannah…
He kissed her hair, fragrant with spices, then her eyebrows. Her eyes closed. He kissed her eyelids, first one, then the other. Petal soft. He rubbed her fine hair between his fingers. Such softness brought feelings, emotions bubbling up from deep inside him.
A warmth, healing and vital, flowed through him like a cleansing prayer. Bill and Lynda…it could work out. Maybe he might get a second chance, too. The words, “I love you” whispered through his mind. If he could be sure these words were true, would he be able to say them to this woman? Did he, had he fallen in love with Hannah?
Unsure of himself, Guthrie brushed his lips against hers. “Hannah, you make me believe anything is possible. You make me believe….”
Tilting her chin, Hannah smoothed his golden hair, then rested her hand on his cheek.
The gentle touch of her fingertips rushed through him like brushfire. “Hannah, you’re a wonderful woman.”
The words were spoken so softly that Hannah barely heard them. She was more aware of the bristly texture of Guthrie’s jawline under her palm, his latent strength that made her feel safe and protected within his arms. Guthrie would never say “I love you” unless it were God’s honest truth. He wouldn’t fall in love with someone while another woman wore his diamond.
Hannah pressed her lips to Guthrie’s. She wished she had the audacity to say those three words, “I love you,” to him. Inside her head, they sounded so right. But if he didn’t return her feelings, they could cost her this brand-new intimacy with this special man, this wonderful man. While gazing into his blue, blue eyes, she stroked his rough cheek, and sparks danced up her arm.
“I mean…Hannah, you’re so special.” He glanced down. “You’ve become a friend, more than a friend. Tonight when I could have caused trouble, you came close to me. Just your touch on my arm gave me the patience to see the bigger picture, give Bil
ly another chance, give myself another chance.”
His last phrase, barely audible, took her breath away. She drew closer still. “Guthrie, I—”
They paused, their faces only inches apart. Hannah remembered the sensation of his lips caressing hers. Guthrie, kiss me again.
The sound of a vehicle. Her parents drove up beside them in her SUV. Instinctively Hannah pulled away and waved to them. Disappointment swallowed her up as if she were entering a dark tunnel. She didn’t know what she had made Guthrie believe, what second chance he referred to. But another moment alone and she could have found out!
Rain beat against the roof of her parents’ nearly finished house. Hannah grunted with exertion as Guthrie hammered the final nail into the four-foot by eight-foot piece of wallboard they were holding in place.
“Well, that’s the first bedroom done.” Guthrie stepped back.
Hannah heaved a sigh and pulled off her work gloves. “Let’s take a coffee break.” She walked down the framed-in hallway to the kitchen with the speckled white counter they’d put in together.
Two days had passed since the evening they’d kissed. That evening, tensions between them over working together and over Billy and Lynda reconciling had ended. Since then, Guthrie had been quieter than usual.
This hadn’t surprised her. Guthrie struck her as the kind of man who thought matters over very carefully before making a decision. She respected this, but she’d like a hint of what he was mulling over. Was he thinking of her as she was of him? Was he thinking of kissing her again?
Maybe a friendly cup of coffee would loosen his tongue. Hopeful, she drew out the glass coffeepot from the warmer and held it up in question.
“Sure. I’ll have a cup. Heavy on—”
She took over with a grin. “Heavy on the cream—”
“And don’t forget a teaspoon of sugar for you, not me,” he finished for her.
She chuckled. “I think we’ve eaten too many breakfasts together.” In fact, the opposite was true. She looked forward to their quiet times together at the breakfast table each morning. She even woke early to lengthen their time alone at the table while her parents slept late upstairs. She stirred his cup and handed it to him. “We no longer have any mystery left.”
“That’s not true. There’s a lot I’d like to know about you.”
About to take her first sip, she lifted her eyebrows. This sudden move into a more personal exchange heightened her awareness of him standing only a few feet away. “Like what?”
He slid onto a step stool. “Like what your plans are once this house is done.”
Stumped, she leaned against the kitchen counter. How could she answer that question? She couldn’t say the truth—I’d like to stay with you at your house. That might be what a twenty-first-century woman would say, but not this twenty-first century woman! She was looking for a lifelong mate. Was Guthrie? After all, they’d only shared a kiss—all right, two if you counted the one she’d surprised him with in the church attic.
Also she’d just broken a three-year engagement, and Guthrie was right in the midst of a family crisis. And they’d only known each other two months! Recent events had already proved she’d made a poor decision when she’d accepted Edward’s ring. Guthrie attracted her, but there just hadn’t been enough time to gauge where all this was leading. She gave Guthrie the only honest answer she could. “I haven’t decided.”
“I’d like you to stay.”
Hannah’s heart did a quick double beat. She licked her dry lips. “You would?”
“I can’t imagine Petite without you.”
“Thanks. It’s begun to feel like home to me, too.”
“I’m glad.”
But Hannah needed to know if Guthrie had done more than just think about reconciling with Billy. She didn’t want the angry Guthrie to come back. She took her courage in her hands. “Have you talked to Lynda about Billy?”
“Yes, we had a long talk last night. Billy really sounds like he’s changed for the better.” He rose and set his empty mug on the counter. “Let’s see if we can get two more rooms done today.”
Though surprised, she followed suit. She had no choice. So much for sharing. Guthrie, next please talk to Billy. With that resolved, then maybe we can talk about us, if there is a possibility for us.
At the end of the long, exhausting day and during a pause in the pouring rain, Guthrie helped Hannah into his truck and drove them home. He parked beside the barn.
An unfamiliar sedan was parked close to his back porch.
“Whose car is that?” she asked tiredly, tightening and flexing her stressed shoulder muscles trying to relax them.
A stranger stepped out the back door and under the shelter of the little porch roof and stood there, waiting for them. The handsome man was dark-haired, tall and slender, dressed in expensive-looking gray chinos and a black sport shirt.
Guthrie made a sound of surprise. Hannah glanced at him. What about this stranger had startled him?
Guthrie got out of the truck. Unmindful of the lazy rain, which still sprinkled down, he opened her door, then led her to the porch. Though he didn’t seem to hurry, Hannah sensed a tension in him.
“Brandon.” Guthrie’s tone was a puzzle to Hannah. Was it a greeting, a question, a challenge? She couldn’t tell.
“Guthrie.” The man responded in kind.
The warm sprinkle of rain refreshed Hannah, but the unspoken tension between the two men puzzled her. Guthrie hadn’t been pleased to hear his brother was coming, and he certainly didn’t sound welcoming now. What was wrong?
She offered her hand.
Guthrie said belatedly, “Hannah, this is my brother, Brandon.”
Brandon walked down the steps and shook her hand.
As she exchanged pleasantries with Brandon, she wondered about Guthrie’s renewed quietness. She’d thought, over the afternoon, that he’d begun to loosen up again.
“Have you seen Lynda?” Hannah asked.
“No, but I’m looking forward to it and seeing the kids.” Brandon looked at Guthrie. “Mom says Billy’s back.”
Guthrie nodded. “Yes, he’s grown up a lot. He’s great with the kids.”
Hannah frowned at Guthrie’s dead tone. Something’s dreadfully wrong here, Lord. What is it?
“I’m glad.” Brandon looked both uneasy and upset. “Which room do you want me to take?”
“I’m sorry,” Guthrie replied. “I’ve already got Hannah and her parents living with me after a fire in town. Aunt Ida and Edith are expecting you to stay with them. I’ll call them and tell them you’re on your way in.”
“No problem.” Guthrie’s brother reached inside the door, brought out a gray duffel and a suit bag and walked toward the sedan.
Hannah called after him, “I’m sorry. I could go to stay with the aunts.”
“No, this is fine.” With a wave, he got into his car and drove away.
She and Guthrie stayed where they were, then she rested a hand on his arm. “What is it?” she whispered.
He glanced at her. “Do you get the feeling everything’s getting dumped here all at once? When Dad died, when we really needed him, Brandon couldn’t be bothered. And now he’s back. I don’t get it.”
Hannah leaned close to him, resting her head on his arm. “Oh, Guthrie, you dear man.” First Billy, now Brandon.
“I don’t know how to handle this. I feel like having it out with him, but what good would it do now? It wouldn’t change anything.”
Hannah listened sympathetically but detected more in Guthrie’s attitude toward Brandon. There was something else, some other unsettled business between these two brothers. God, why does Guthrie have to deal with this right now? He just got adjusted to Billy coming back. Now Brandon shows up. I know You always know best, but couldn’t this have waited?
People crowded around Hannah in the brightly lit church basement to celebrate the new roof and refurbished attic. A large sheet cake was being slowly but surely devoured not
only by the church members but by the good people of Petite. The marble cake with white icing bore the pink frosting salutation, Thanks Guthrie and Hannah!
Hannah shifted her weight on her tired feet and tried to ignore her uneasiness. Guthrie sat across the room with Hunter on his lap and talked with Ted and Billy. While Guthrie and Billy appeared to be making progress toward reconciliation, the unmentioned friction between Guthrie and Brandon had increased over the past few days.
Whenever Guthrie and Brandon were together, Hannah noted others watching them, measuring them. Obviously, the town of Petite wasn’t in the dark about the root of the distance between the two brothers. She wished someone would give her a hint. Though Guthrie put on a good face, she hurt for him, even though she knew the last thing he wanted was sympathy.
Standing at Hannah’s side, Brandon and his mother sipped coffee with Lila. Martha ran her fingers through her damp hair. Everyone had been rained on as they rushed between car and church. “When will this rain stop? I’m so worried for the farmers. They need to be harvesting the corn and soybeans now. How will they ever get into these wet fields with their combines or get the corn dried out?”
“It’s delaying the work on my café. I can tell you that,” Lila added. “If it weren’t for my insurance, I’d be sunk.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lila,” Brandon said. “I had been looking forward to stopping in the Cozy for a fried-egg sandwich.”
“Well, you come over to my house and I’ll fix you one.” Lila patted his arm. “I wouldn’t want to send you back to San Francisco without one!”
Brandon smiled.
But Hannah thought his smile looked brittle and his eyes forlorn. She sensed Brandon had come home for some specific reason. What was it?
“Hannah, if you and Guthrie hadn’t gotten this roof done, who knows how much damage this rain would have caused.” Lila looked at the ceiling as though assessing the destructive power of the rain beating against the basement windows.
Martha shook her head. “The ground was saturated already after the spring rains. Where will all this water go?”