Love's Stormy Gale (Heartsong Presents)

by Lynette Sowell

  “What?” She nudged him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Jonathan shrugged. “He just didn’t seem that gung ho about getting married. I shouldn’t say anything. It doesn’t really matter much now, not that either one of us can do anything about it.”

  “Not gung ho about getting married?” Olivia shook her head. “I know he was pretty laid-back about many things, but…” She sealed her lips into a thin line.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Robby was a good man and he did love you.”

  “Just not enough, apparently.”

  Jonathan sighed. Here was the chance he’d once longed for, and a chance he’d surrendered when he saw the sparks fly between Robby and Olivia years ago. Physical romance didn’t necessarily guarantee commitment and a lot of couples skipped that commitment.

  He reached out, touched her silken hair.

  *

  Olivia could hardly form her words at the sensations bubbling inside her at the mere caress of Jonathan’s hand to her hair. His dark features were inches from her head, the rough stubble on his face begged her to touch it.

  Then he put his glass down and she was able to breathe again. She followed suit, glad to put the glass in a safe place. If she were any more distracted she’d drop it.

  “What is it?” Jonathan settled back onto the swing, this time settling his arm around her shoulder.

  She shook her head. She wouldn’t fall apart in front of him. Then the warmth of his arm was behind her again, and Olivia leaned into its security. She sniffed.

  “Go ahead,” his husky voice whispered, inches from her left ear.

  “What?”

  “Cry. I know I did.”

  Olivia sat upright and stared at him. “Jonathan…I…”

  Jonathan turned to face her, offering her a place in the circle of his arms. Olivia accepted the invitation, burying her face in his shoulder. He smelled of the sea and aftershave.

  A sob made Olivia shudder, but Jonathan’s arms around her told her she was safe. For the first time since the evening of the storm, Olivia felt like she had her old friend back. Except the old friendship was carried on a current of something new. She felt her shoulders tense.

  “What is it?” Jonathan stroked her hair with one hand.

  “I’m not sure how to say this.” Olivia shifted to her place on the swing. What if she opened her mouth and said the wrong thing, and the sweetness of this healing moment was lost?

  “Hey, it’s me here. We’ve known each other a long time.” Jonathan left his arm around her.

  “I know. And that’s why I’m afraid, but I’ll say it anyway. I feel like something’s happening between us. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Don’t worry about it. If God is circling our paths closer together, then so be it.” Then his smile lit the early evening, its shine affecting her the way no glow of fireflies could ever do.

  Now Jonathan was close enough so she could feel his breath on her face. What would it be like to have him kiss her? She resisted the urge to lick her lips. A strong hand caught her around the waist, pulling her still closer.

  The porch light clicked on, and Olivia blinked. Her father stuck his head out the door.

  “Er, I’m heading upstairs now. Make sure you lock up.” Then he gave Jonathan a nod before closing the door.

  Olivia released her breath and giggled. “What timing.”

  Jonathan stood and stretched, then took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Ah, Miss Shea, if I kissed you now, I’d scratch your face.”

  Olivia wanted to reply that a scratched face was the least of her concerns. “And?”

  “When I do kiss you, I’ll make sure I’ve shaved first.” Then he winked at her, fishing his keys from his pocket. “I need to leave now. Morning comes early.”

  “Oh. Right.” Olivia mustered a feeble wave as Jonathan climbed into his Jeep and left.

  *

  Jonathan turned the corner and groaned. What had happened back there? All he’d done was show up with a plastic lobster, and nearly ended the evening sharing a kiss with Olivia. Smiley had turned into quite a peace offering. He allowed himself a grin at that.

  No, it was Robby’s stupid letter. If Olivia hadn’t found that letter, none of them would have known about Robby’s decision to call off the wedding. Then he wouldn’t have ended up comforting Olivia on the porch.

  “Dummy.” Jonathan glared at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He hoped he hadn’t crossed any unmarked lines tonight. Having the chance to comfort Olivia and encourage her was an answer to a prayer. Yet where did friendship end and something more begin?

  “Okay, Barrotta. She’s a grown woman. She could have pushed you away.” Jonathan pulled into the parking space at his apartment. Yet Olivia hadn’t pushed him away. Her expressive eyes had practically begged him to kiss her. It was probably just as well her father had opened the front door when he did.

  That night, he bowed in prayer in his bedroom. “Help me, Lord. You know how much I’ve cared for her all these years. Please don’t let me take advantage of her needing comfort. You do the comforting and healing, and I’ll be there for her when You’re through. I promise You that. If You’re giving me a chance to love her at last.”

  Chapter 7

  Olivia hummed while she whisked the waffle batter in a bowl and smelled the coffee streaming into the coffeepot. She heard her father descend the creaking stairs, his slippers swishing on the wood. The swish paused, then came the whir of the computer. Olivia smiled. Her father was checking his email, a new tradition blending with the old.

  To think a computer would come before her father’s trip to the porch step for the morning paper. But then laughter came more easily than it had for a long time.

  Two weeks and three days had passed since Jonathan nearly kissed her on the porch swing. Maybe he would sometime. Her stomach trembled at the thought.

  Since that night, her heart had poured out the accumulated sludge of old feelings and hurts. On a sunny Sunday morning like this, the past seemed like an old nightmare chased forever back into the shadows. Now that she and Jonathan had reestablished their friendship, she realized she’d welcome more.

  “Yes, Lord,” she murmured. “I want Your best for Jonathan, and for me. If You want us to be together, I’ll accept that. Please, show us Your will.” Jonathan’s dark curly hair, deep brown eyes, his stubbled jaw when he forgot to shave all sprang to mind. Olivia sighed and rested her elbows on the counter, feeling like a schoolgirl again.

  The scent of burning waffles filled the air. Olivia jerked the cover from the waffle iron. Steam swirled up, revealing dark brown squares.

  Her father scuffed into the kitchen. “You planning on feeding me that?” He sniffed the air, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.

  “You can put lots of syrup on it. Wait, too much isn’t very good for you. Or margarine for that matter.” Olivia waved the spatula she used to pry the burned mass from the waffle iron. She tossed the waffles in the trash and put fresh batter in the waffle iron.

  Her father helped himself to the coffee, then coughed before he took a sip.

  “Dad, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a summer cold.”

  “Ever since I’ve been home? That’s a long cold.” She wouldn’t bring up the pipe tobacco.

  “Like I said, I’m fine.” He spread the newspaper out on the table. With a grunt, Olivia’s father turned to the Sports section of the Boston paper.

  “Will you come to church this morning? Pastor’s been asking about you.” Olivia braced herself for the reply.

  “Tell him I’m doing great.” He set his coffee mug on the table with a thunk. “Business is so good, I need to rest and catch up on work around the house.”

  “All right.” The light blinked on the waffle iron. Olivia placed the steaming waffles on two plates, then brought them to the table.

  When she was a child, her father would drop her off
at church and pick her up afterward. Either that or he’d let her go with Mrs. Flaherty next door. Why wouldn’t he come with her? Why the need to stay away?

  “I love God in my own way. I don’t need to show up to please people….” His voice trailed off.

  Olivia wouldn’t argue with him there she thought as she ate her breakfast. After Robby died, she had longed for the sanctuary of God’s house, but she couldn’t deal with curious glances and vague whispers and too-bright smiles. So she’d stopped attending altogether until she moved to Pennsylvania.

  Except Jonathan would nod at her, giving her a slight smile that didn’t mask the sorrow in his eyes. He had been through the valley of the shadow of death and come through alive. He understood. What must that be like for him?

  She brushed aside the somber thoughts and silently toasted the bright morning with her cup of coffee.

  “I don’t know if some of the gang will go out to lunch or not, but I’ll call you if we do so you won’t wait for me.”

  Olivia’s father grunted again in response and patted her shoulder as she left the table.

  *

  Maggie settled onto the chair next to her in Sunday school.

  “Hey, guess what?” Maggie beamed. But then she always beamed lately.

  “What?”

  “Todd’s mom gave me a gift certificate to the Children’s Orchard! She knew I’d be wanting to get a head start on shopping for the baby.”

  Olivia managed a grin for her friend. “Let me guess. You couldn’t wait for a baby shower. That gift certificate’s probably burning a hole in your purse.”

  “Shopping trip? In Newburyport?”

  “Sounds great!” She needed a diversion from Jonathan, from her paperwork-gathering for graduate school. A shopping trip would do the trick.

  Jeremy, their teacher, called the class to order and opened in prayer. “Now, let’s look at the first lesson in the quarterly journal. I know you haven’t had a chance to study it, but I figured we could start today as an introduction.”

  Olivia read the title of the lesson. “Calming the Storm.” Was this a conspiracy? She’d been sailing through a hurricane, thunderstorm and tornado all at once it seemed.

  A sideways glance at Jonathan showed brown eyes probing her for a reaction. Olivia set her jaw. She wouldn’t let him, wouldn’t let anyone see her reaction to the upcoming lecture.

  Olivia had heard the story from childhood, of Jesus sleeping inside the boat during the storm, while the disciples panicked. She remembered giggling with the rest of the class. Silly disciples. Scared to pieces while the Son of God accompanied them across the lake in a storm.

  Then she had grown up. Adult fear had replaced her child’s faith.

  Jeremy continued. “Note that in Mark 4:35, Jesus tells the disciples they are going to the other side. I’m sure He knew a storm was coming, that their very lives would be in danger. The lesson asks an interesting question on page three: Why do you think the disciples allowed fear to overcome them? Anyone care to answer?”

  “They were human,” someone called out.

  “Good,” said Jeremy.

  Olivia could understand the disciples’ feelings. Wasn’t fear a human reaction to a threatening event?

  Then Jonathan spoke up. “They let their circumstances and present surroundings affect them more than the words of Jesus.”

  Ouch. For some reason Olivia’s chair felt more uncomfortable than usual this morning. She took a sip of coffee and doodled a design in the margin of her lesson book.

  “That’s true, Jonathan. When we find ourselves in threatening or uncertain conditions, it’s easy to forget the words that the Lord has for us. Right here.” Jeremy held up his leather-bound Bible.

  Olivia kept doodling, concentrating on her design. She’d read the Bible before, and even knew some verses from memory. Had her mind merely memorized the words? Had the knowledge penetrated to her heart?

  The whisper of turning pages grabbed her attention. “Oh, where are we turning to now?” She glanced at Jonathan’s Bible, where he’d flipped to Romans 8.

  “Beth, could you read verses thirty-five, then thirty-seven through thirty-nine, please?” Jeremy asked.

  “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

  “Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

  “For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

  Olivia kept focusing on the lesson’s theme. If the Bible said nothing on this earth could keep Olivia from God’s love, why did she feel so unconvinced? Had her fear and possessiveness caused hurt to those around her? If she had been less possessive and fearful about Robby, would he still be here today? No, that wouldn’t have changed the outcome.

  Olivia felt a weight pressing down on the back of her chair. Jonathan’s arm brushed her shoulders. Normally the sensation would have comforted her.

  She didn’t deserve Jonathan’s comfort. Not when the very words that should have helped her made her feel worse than before.

  Chapter 8

  Olivia touched a soft cotton blanket woven in pastel colors. She’d driven with Maggie riding shotgun, and now they were in a baby furniture store just over the New Hampshire line.

  “No sales tax,” Maggie had said with a mischievous grin.

  One day, Olivia wanted to go through the whole process. What would it be like to finally be married and start a family? She’d made some relationship mistakes in the past. She’d let Robby be the main focus of her life. Even above the Lord. Olivia swallowed hard at the realization that Robby had been right. It wasn’t just being a wedding-crazy woman or her natural grief over losing him. She’d made him her rock when he was only a man.

  “I said, what do you think of this? Do you think it’ll be too dark for the nursery?” Maggie lovingly stroked an elegant sleigh-bed crib of cherrywood.

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking.”

  “Yeah, I could tell. So what else do you think? If you had to buy a crib for the nursery, which one would you choose?”

  That was easy. A rich maple crib, with wood tones warm enough to complement any style of crib bedding. Couldn’t she imagine standing at its edge, looking down at a sleeping infant with dark licorice hair curling over his head, just like his father’s?

  “This one here.” Olivia’s cheeks flamed at her musings.

  Maggie joined her at the piece of furniture. “Yeah, this is beautiful. You’re right. I like this even better than the other piece.” She flipped over the price tag. “Ouch, that hurts. But I have an idea.”

  Olivia nodded absently. How could she be thinking of Jonathan now? And what would he think if he knew her thoughts? No more jumping headlong into another relationship. This time she’d go in with eyes open, slow and wary.

  Maggie held up her phone and snapped a picture of the crib. “I’m going to see if Todd thinks we can afford having Jonathan make it. He’s a genius with wood. But I guess you know that.”

  “That’s right. I was hoping to have him make Dad a new computer desk for his birthday or even Christmas.”

  They wandered toward the women’s clothing department. Maggie continued her probing.

  “So, I’m sure you know Jonathan’s not planning to stay in woodworking permanently.” Maggie held up a pair of baby shoes.

  “Oh, those are cute! Too bad these aren’t in grown-up sizes.” Olivia reached for the shoes.

  “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “Yes.” Olivia ran her fingers over the supple leather. “I do know Jonathan’s plans, and I’m scared for him. I think if he keeps at his woodworking, he could open his own shop.”

  “What if that’s not what he really wants? Or what if it’
s not what God has for him?”

  Olivia sighed. “I suppose it’s pointless to tell you how I feel.”

  Maggie frowned and reached for another pair of shoes. “Yeah, I’ve been there. Many of the women in town have been there. Lots of us have been fortunate. Some haven’t. It’s a tough life, but I do know I would never deny Todd his dream.”

  Olivia nodded. Which was why if Jonathan wanted to go out on a fishing boat again, she wouldn’t stop him. Olivia would guard her heart. She would do things right this time.

  They stopped for lunch at a courtyard café. Olivia lingered over her strawberry pie. Maggie would get a break from walking, whether she wanted one or not. The town’s summer hubbub of tourists and shoppers flowed past them.

  “Oof. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that dessert.” Maggie frowned as she rubbed her stomach.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She took a sip of water. “Ow.”

  As they waited for their bill, Olivia hoped the pains would subside, but instead they grew stronger the longer they sat. Olivia wasn’t sure what to expect, but Maggie didn’t seem fine to her.

  “I should call Todd.” Olivia’s heart started to beat faster.

  “No! He didn’t want me to go shopping today, not really.”

  Olivia turned on her cell phone. “I’m calling Todd anyway.”

  Maggie took a deep, slow breath. “Ow, these must be Braxton-Hicks contractions. But I think it’s too early.”

  The answering machine came on at Todd’s fishing charter office. Olivia gave her cell phone number, and asked him to call as soon as possible. She glanced at Maggie, whose white knuckles clenched a paper napkin. “Who else can I call?”

  “Call my OB. The number’s in my wallet.”

  Olivia found a business card for the obstetrics office and dialed. “Yes, I understand.” Olivia hung up the phone. “We need to drive you to the hospital. Your doctor is contacting Labor and Delivery there. They’ll be waiting for us.”

  Maggie clenched her stomach and bit her lip. Olivia laid some cash on the table with their bill. Her heart thudded and the world moved in slow motion. Be strong for Maggie. Maggie needed her. Lord, help her. Help me.