The Promise of Rainbows

by Ava Miles

  Rye snorted. “Shoot. I sound more like a greeting card than a man should these days, and it’s only going to get worse. Excuse me for a sec.”

  He walked over to his wife, whom he hugged like a gentle bear. She patted him on the chest and nodded.

  “Everyone,” Rye called out. “Grab a seat, please.”

  Annabelle appeared beside Jake like a homing pigeon and took his hand. “You’re sitting beside me and Aunt Susannah.”

  The little girl led him to the other side of the table, and sure enough, there was one lone seat open for him. Reverend Louisa was sitting way too close to him for comfort, but he forced himself to give her a weak smile.

  Rye put his arm around Tory as they stood at the head of the table. “Usually we buffet the meal, but today demanded something special. These family dinners have come to mean a lot to all of us, and I’m happy Jake could join us today since he’s a good friend to many of us here.”

  Jake coughed to dislodge the emotion clogging his throat, and Annabelle reached for his hand again. Susannah patted his arm, and suddenly he felt like he was a part of this family—the sort of family he’d always longed to have.

  “Tory and I have some special news, and because she’s going to have to do more of the work, I think she should be the one to tell you.”

  A huge smile stretched across Tory’s face as she looked at the rest of the family. “Rye and I are having a baby.”

  The entire table erupted with whoops and exclamations. Chairs scraped the floor as people lurched to their feet and ran up to the happy couple. Jake watched as Annabelle ran off and wiggled her way through the crowd.

  “Yay!” the little girl shouted. “I’m going to have a cousin.”

  “You sure are,” Rye exclaimed, throwing her up in the air.

  Jake hung back to let the family have its moment. When everyone started to take their seats again, he finally headed over to give his well wishes.

  “I wondered if this was your news, given the lyrics you suggested downstairs,” Jake said, grabbing his friend in a hug and pounding his back.

  “You’re writing a song about the baby?” Tory asked, tears popping into her eyes.

  Rye wiped at his own eyes. “Don’t I write songs about you? I have to include our baby, right?”

  “Oh, Rye,” she said, and they embraced again.

  Jake made tracks to give them privacy and took his seat between Annabelle and Susannah. The little girl was bouncing in her seat from the news, but it was Susannah who drew his gaze. She was brushing aside the tears streaming down her face. Her eyes met his, and she shrugged.

  “I’m so happy for them,” she said as more tears rolled down her face.

  Without thinking, Jake picked up his cloth napkin and blotted a few of those tears before he had the presence of mind to stop. When he looked away from her, her mama and sisters were all staring at him. He grabbed his water glass and chugged the contents. Good Lord. Could he be any more obvious?

  When Rye and Tory finally found their seats, Louisa—there, he’d remembered not to call her Reverend like she’d asked—led them in grace. Of course, all it did was remind Jake of her sermon again. While he feasted with the others on the beef and pork roasts and the heap of sides, he made sure to keep his mouth full so no one would say much to him.

  Well, no one save sweet little Annabelle. She talked to him throughout the meal, never needing him to reply. For a small thing, she sure did have a lot of words inside her. Susannah’s mouth curved often, so Jake could tell she was amused by the situation. Beyond that, she said little, except to Shelby, who sat on her other side. But he couldn’t get comfortable because he’d caught Louisa watching him more than once. She was stewing something fierce, was all he could think. He made a vow he would leave as soon as dinner ended.

  After the platters and bowls were scraped clean from the men’s second and third helpings, Rye carried in the biggest chocolate cake on the planet. Atop it was a plastic Elvis, which made everyone laugh.

  “Uncle Rye dressed up as Elvis once,” Annabelle told him. “He’s so silly sometimes.”

  And Rye was in fine form—laughing as he ate cake, talking about all the changes he was going to have to make to be a good daddy. For some reason, Rye thought he was going to have to wear jeans that weren’t so form fitting, and this made everyone, including his wife, break into laughter.

  “Your career will tank for sure if you can’t show off your assets,” Tory teased him.

  “What’s assets?” Rory asked seriously.

  Tammy wiped her mouth to hide her smile. “It’s like the gifts God gives you. Eat your cake.”

  Annabelle rose onto her knees and said, “Uncle Rye! Now you’re really going to have to start talking to flowers. Especially if you have a baby girl.”

  The man visibly shuddered. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Tory rubbed his back. “Breathe. You’re going to be just fine.”

  And so the famous country singer took deep breaths as everyone around the table polished off their cake and offered parenting suggestions, serious and otherwise.

  “Susannah,” Rye called out finally when his color returned to normal. “Why don’t you show Jake my patch of Dare River? I would, but I’d like to stay with my lovely wife here and finish my cake.”

  Jake could smell a stink bomb when it was dropped. Anyone could have shown Jake the river. As a suggestion, it was plumb crazy. Besides, didn’t he live upriver as well? But that didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful for the excuse to spend time with her.

  “I’d like that,” he said, rising from his chair. “I don’t think we’ll even need a coat it’s so pleasant out.”

  “Mama made me wear a coat earlier, but I was hot,” Annabelle said.

  Tammy put her hand on the little girl’s leg and gave her a look when she started to scoot out of her chair to follow them. Was everyone intent on setting them up? When he caught Clayton’s gaze, the man was biting his lip. Yeah, it pretty much seemed to be a group conspiracy. Shucks.

  Susannah gave Rye a knowing look, but even so, she let Jake help her out of her chair. As they walked out, all conversation in the room seemed to cease until Annabelle called out, “Ah, don’t they look sweet together.”

  Someone shushed her, and Jake increased his pace to the French doors at the back of the house.

  “Goodness me,” Susannah said, fanning herself like she was a mite warm. “That was terribly awkward.”

  “You think?” he asked with a laugh. “I’ve never known a room to grow so quiet.”

  “We don’t need to walk to the river, you know,” she told him as they walked down the path through the garden. “We can hang out here for a while and then head back inside. Maybe they’ll stop pushing. Rye just wants everyone to be as happy as he is.”

  Jake suspected it was more than that, but he refrained from commenting. “I wouldn’t mind a walk to the river after that meal.” He wished he could say he would do anything to walk to the river with her every night.

  She turned to look at him, and he saw the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. “Okay then. We’ll walk.”

  They meandered through the garden, past a well-used tree swing, and then angled over to the river’s edge. The sun was bright, and the weather was mild for January. Still, Jake took off his denim jacket and put it around Susannah’s shoulders because he…well, he wanted to make this moment into something…more.

  “I’m not cold,” she protested even as she wrapped the jacket around her. “But I like this jacket. You gave it to me before.”

  “I did,” he said, heartened she remembered.

  Her soft sigh warmed his heart, and he gestured to the bench beside the river. He sat down next to her when she took a seat, but still maintained the distance he’d imposed earlier at services.

  A heron took flight from the trees across the river and circled the water, its mighty gray wingspan awe-inspiring. A white egret struck at something on the shore across the way. Jake
settled his back against the bench, relaxing for the first time all day.

  “I’m glad you came,” Susannah said softly, scooting over a fraction.

  Her hand was so close to his on the bench. He wanted so badly to reach for it and wrap it around his own.

  “I’m glad I did too.”

  The sunlight caught her hair, highlighting the reds and golds wrapped in the brown of her curls. The urge to ask her to dinner swelled in him again. Instead, he made himself bite his tongue. Hard.

  “I’m sorry if my family was…implying things,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap.

  He didn’t ask her to clarify what she meant. They both knew. “They’re looking out for you. Don’t concern yourself. In fact, I’m honored they would think I was good enough to walk out with you.”

  Her body shifted on the bench, enough that her shoulder brushed his. He turned his head to look at her. The moss-green eyes he found so enchanting were luminous. The air around them seemed to suddenly still.

  To bring them both back to earth, he said, “I was ah…serious about you painting a mural in my house. I would love something in the dining room.”

  She immediately broke eye contact, fussing with her dress. “I don’t usually paint for clients. I could commission someone much more talented.”

  This time he had to touch her hand. She jumped at the connection, her gaze flying to his.

  “You are talented,” he said roughly. “Don’t sell yourself short. Ever.”

  Her flesh was suddenly hot to the touch, and her fingers were shaking. He made himself remove his hand.

  “What kind of a scene would you like me to paint?”

  He kicked his legs out in front of him and put his hands behind his head. Better to keep them occupied after that brief, alluring touch. “I’d like a scene from Dare River. Maybe with a canoe and some birds. And a dock.” He was making it up on the spot since he didn’t have a clue. All he knew was that he wanted something personal from her, something from her creative place—like one of his songs that would never fade. “You’ll come up with something.”

  Her knee started jumping, and her foot tapped the ground. He counted the beats. One-two-three. Four. Five-six-seven. Eight. There was anxiety in the music she was making—and excitement.

  “I’ll work up some sketches for you to look over,” she said, her eyes glazing over.

  He knew that look. People said he got that look when he was stringing a melody together for a new song. It was reserved for that special land of imagination, a place he loved to visit.

  “That sounds fine.”

  Then she laughed, coming back to herself. “You do realize this is going to take a while, right?”

  “I do,” he answered, trying not to grin. The longer the better, as far as he was concerned. Perhaps he should build a guesthouse at Redemption Ridge as well. That way he’d have another project for her to work on when she finished the main house.

  “We should probably walk back,” she said, rising from the bench and fussing with the silver buttons on his denim jacket.

  A heron flew over the water and alighted in a pine tree across the way as Jake stood as well. “Maybe you can paint me one of those birds.”

  She looked out across the river. “They are pretty majestic, aren’t they?”

  Her steps were slow as they walked back, and he matched her stride. It was as though neither one of them wanted their time alone to end. And wasn’t that crazy? He was going to see her often as she helped decorate his house.

  But he knew better. Being with her now—in the sunlight by the water, with the light shining off her hair—well, there was romance and magic here. It made the man in him want to sweep her up and never let her go.

  When he opened the door to the back of the house for her, she gave him a shy smile that made his heart race. God, she was so pretty. He wanted to curl her hair around his finger to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Heck, he wanted to tell her she was pretty.

  “Thanks for walking with me,” he said quietly instead.

  She nodded, and he touched her back as she went through the door. The muscles there jumped. He quickly removed his hand.

  “How was the walk?” Tory asked them as they reentered the family room.

  “Jake! You’re back!” Annabelle pushed off the floor where she was playing with her dog. Barbie, was it? The poor thing. He felt worse for it than a turkey trussed up for Thanksgiving, what with the hot pink bow around its neck and the rhinestone collar. To his mind, no dog should be dressed up like a mini debutant. His own dog would never have allowed it. Not that he would have tried.

  “The walk was pleasant,” Susannah answered for him, her tone more than a little pointed.

  “The weather seems so nice,” Rye commented, and Jake shot him a warning look.

  He’d known Rye a spell, and the man wasn’t the type to converse about weather.

  “I need to get on home,” Jake said, and Annabelle ran over to him and tugged on his pant leg.

  “You can’t leave!” she cried. “I need someone to push me on the swing.”

  No one hated to disappoint a little girl more than he did, so he sank to one knee in front of her. “Perhaps we can do that another time.”

  “Promise?”

  He’d given up on making promises years ago, knowing he wasn’t always able to deliver on them. Sometimes forces bigger and greater than he was had a way of changing things out from under him. “I’ll do my best.”

  J.P. picked Annabelle up and threw her in the air, causing her to giggle. Barbie barked, and Rory’s dog joined in the chorus.

  “Let’s all say goodbye to Jake and thank him for coming today,” J.P. said, tickling the little girl. “He probably has things to attend to.”

  Jake didn’t, but that wasn’t the point of him leaving. He walked over to Rye and shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for having me over, and congratulations again to you and Tory. You’re going to be wonderful parents.”

  “Thanks,” Rye said, putting his arm around his smiling wife. “I have more learning to do on that score, but I have the best teacher. I never imagined I’d be a father, but now I’m as eager as a kid waiting for Christmas. The next six months are going to be endless.”

  “And then the baby will be here,” Tory said, patting his chest. “The time will go fast. Even the famous Rye Crenshaw can’t hurry nature along.”

  “More’s the pity,” Rye said with a snort. “If I could shorten the time a woman needs to be pregnant, my female fans would love me even more than they already do.”

  That earned him a playful punch in the stomach from his wife.

  Jake said his goodbyes to everyone, and J.P. held Annabelle up so she could kiss his cheek.

  “Bye, Jake. Do your best to remember about pushing me on that swing.”

  Oh, what a sweetheart she was. “I will. And you make sure to remind me if I forget.”

  “I’m good at reminding people,” she declared, making everyone laugh.

  Shelby and Sadie kept their faces composed, but he could see the grins they were fighting. Both of them smelled something in the air between him and Susannah—like everyone else apparently. Jake was going to have to be careful here. His friends were involved, and so was this family. These were relationships he treasured. He wasn’t going to mess that up.

  Someone linked arms with him, and he looked down to see Susannah’s mama. He tensed up again.

  She simply smiled. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Susannah gave her mama a narrow-eyed look, but Jake nodded to her to assure her he’d be fine. She gave him another soft smile, which made his heart feel like it weighed less than a sheet of music.

  “I’ll see you soon, Susannah. We have a lot of furniture to buy.”

  He almost winced at the lame goodbye. What he really wanted was to kiss her cheek and smell the honeysuckle fragrance of her hair as he whispered how much he’d loved being with her down by the water.

  “We do indeed,”
she said, a smile flickering on her face.

  He made himself turn away, and with her mama’s determined arm linked through his own, he walked out of the room. Later, he’d tell Rye that it wasn’t like he thought between him and Susannah. Well, it was. He was attracted to her. He just couldn’t act on it until he was okay. Yes, he’d gone to church—a huge step for him—but it didn’t guarantee he’d be cured.

  At the front door, Jake turned to say goodbye to Louisa, but she ignored him and kept their arms linked. She was one determined woman.

  When they reached his truck, she stood beside him in the silence. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was alight with a swath of blue streaked with orange and pink.

  “Something on your mind, ma’am?” he finally asked.

  “My sermon got you all stirred up,” she said as bold as a red barn in a green pasture. “Are you still recovering from your service to our country?”

  It was difficult to keep her gaze, but he made himself. “Pardon me for saying so, ma’am, but that’s an awfully personal question.”

  “It’s Louisa,” she told him, releasing his arm and crossing hers over her chest. “And it is personal. As personal as it gets. The question I’d like you to consider is this: do you want to recover?”

  For a moment, his tongue felt too thick to answer. “That seems like a ridiculous question.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”

  “Yes,” he ground out. “More than anything.”

  She gazed at him thoughtfully, and suddenly all he could feel was her compassion. “I see some veterans for counseling. I’m assuming you’ve tried everything else.”

  “I have,” he answered crisply.

  “Veterans don’t see me as their first choice, but I’ve managed to help a lot of them in my church. If you’d like, I’m sure a few of the men would be happy to speak with you about our time together.”

  Did he really want to open that box of horrors all over again? And with her? She was Susannah’s mama, after all.

  “Are you sure you want to make the offer? It’s not exactly…pretty.”

  “I’m not especially fond of ‘pretty’ myself. Life is about experiencing the full spectrum, don’t you think? It’s what being human is all about.”