He turned to her now, his eyes that of a grown man, drawn and tired.
“Did you sleep with that girl last night?”
“No.” Cole winced. “But I might’ve if I hadn’t seen you.”
She swallowed hard and looked down at his hand. It rested on a book at his side, the leather cover worn, the pages curled. He picked up the book and set it on his lap. “This was my mom’s,” he said. “A prayer book. It meant a lot to her. I remember her writing in it when I was little, and reading it to me at night before bed. She taught me everything I know about faith and trust.”
He flipped through the book. Angela inhaled the smell of decaying paper.
“I’m not the boy or the man I once was. Last night I came close to it, but I came to my senses because of you.”
A family of ducks waddled into the water. They quacked and splashed toward the opposite shore.
Angela watched them for a long while.
“There’s something you should know,” Cole said, breaking the silence, his gaze also fixed on the ducks. “Something I’m not proud of. I met this girl in Tulsa a few years back. Jenna. I was competing at nationals and she was one of the flag girls.” Cole let out a sharp, self-deprecating laugh. “I was such a cad, she didn’t stand a chance. But, somehow, I fell in love with her. Or I thought I did. She moved to Grace and she hated it here, hated the work I did at the ranch and the arena, the way I’d come home dirty at night, if I was home at all. At first she went with me on the road, but she started to stay back more and more, and then she’d take off to Missoula whenever I was away.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. The ducks completed their journey and disappeared into the tall grass.
“We had nothing to keep us together,” he continued. “It got old after a while, but I wanted it to work. I think she did too. It just got to be too much. Or too little, depending on how you look at it. I cheated on her a lot, and I found out later that she had been seeing some guy in Missoula; that’s why she went there so often. Toward the end all we did was fight.”
He rested a hand over Angela’s. Her fingers stiffened, but then she turned her wrist and linked her fingers with his.
“I wasn’t good to her.” Cole said. “I didn’t know how to be. I thought I was in love, but I used her. And I hurt her.”
“She hurt you, too.”
He shook his head adamantly. “I drove her to do the things she did. It ended when she caught me with another woman. She came down to Denver to surprise me. I’d called her the day before and told I wanted it to work, that I was sorry for everything and that I missed what we were in the beginning. She cried and told me she was sorry, too. We were going to go away together when I got home, just the two of us, somewhere up in the mountains. I was going to propose.”
“I take it that never happened?”
“No. I took first place in Denver, went out drinking to celebrate and ended up taking a woman back to my hotel. Jenna showed up at the hotel to surprise me, she saw the other woman and that was the end of it. By the time I got back home she was gone.”
Angela swallowed, watching the hard line of his jaw. “You think you’re that man again, don’t you? You’re worried that what almost happened last night was too close to what you’ve done before.”
“Yeah.” He unthreaded his fingers from hers. “You know, I’ve heard of drug addicts being grateful for overdosing. Sometimes what we need is something to shake us up, make us see ourselves for what we are. After Jenna left I was a mess, and then one night I found this dusty journal on a bookshelf. I knew my mom wouldn’t want me to live my life that way, so I vowed to live it right.
“Sometimes I forget what it was like to be the man I was, but last night I was him again. I hated it, Angie. I hate what it did to you. I know you and I aren’t together, but you never came right out and said you don’t want me. And I’m not convinced you don’t, not after seeing that look on your face last night. We have something. Am I wrong about that?”
Her stomach flipped over. Fear rose up, choked her. She couldn’t find the words.
“You don’t have to say a thing, sweetheart, just forgive me. Please.” He smiled, the wrinkles bunching up at the corners of his eyes. “If not for fifteen years ago, then at least for last night.”
Angela’s gaze flitted back to the pond, her breath trapped in her throat. A fish splashed to the surface, nipping at bugs. “I’m leaving soon. I have to, Cole. I can’t stay here.”
“I know, darlin’.”
The sun had risen higher, filling the clearing with light. The summer heat began to encroach on the cool hull of the pond and it all closed in on her, threatening to suffocate the air out of her lungs. She trembled when he pulled her close, his hand splayed across her back. She took in the scent of his soap, felt his heart beating rapidly.
“We all have our stories,” she whispered
Cole murmured her name, his lips against her temple. And she knew that he already knew the thoughts scrambling through her mind, even before she’d voiced them.
“I still don’t remember what my father did to me,” she admitted, needing to speak it out. “But I remember remembering. It happened that night, after you saw the bruises.”
A flock of birds fluttered out of nearby tree and flew over the pond, and then through the clearing. Angela wished she had wings so she could take flight and join them. She pulled away from Cole. “You and I do have something, but there’s a lot more we don’t have. You want me to say it? Fine. I don’t want you.”
“I don’tbelieve you.”
“You don’t have to believe me. It changes nothing.” She walked away before he could respond.
****
The next Sunday morning Angela stood outside the Church of Grace and looked up at the turrets covered in ivy. Organ music poured out of the open doors as people walked into the sanctuary, some of them glancing in Angela’s direction, their mouths agape. She looked down and walked inside.
She saw Cole right away, standing by the front pew with Mrs. Markey. He glanced up and caught Angela’s gaze across the room.
Angela looked away quickly and slipped into the back pew.
Moments later, Mitzi Wilmington and Joanne Smith filed into the pew two rows in front of Angela. Mitzi looked behind and nudged her friend. Joanne looked back, turned to Mitzi and mouthed “Oh my God…Angie Donnelly!”
They leaned close together and whispered a conversation Angela could not hear in its entirely, although snippets managed to rise above the organ music and the din of the crowd. She sunk further in her seat and caught phrases like “white trash,” “doesn’t belong here,” and “she needs to go back to the other side of the tracks.” She hadn’t wanted to come to church this morning in the first place, and now she wished she hadn’t let Sophie convince her.
She glanced at the doors behind her and slid to the edge of the pew. Sophie sat down, blocking Angela’s retreat.
“Hi Angie,” Sophie said more loudly than necessary, “glad you made it. It is so good to see you. Oh look! It’s Mitzi and Joanne…you remember them from school, right?”
Mitzi and Joanne turned, their smiles tight and pained.
“Hi girls,” Sophie said easily, “you remember Angie.”
Mitzi lifted a corner of her lip and scoffed. “Hard to forget.”
“Did you come back to handle your daddy’s estate?” Joanne asked, her voice sugary sweet. “It must be tough trying to figure out what to do with all those empty cans of spam and bottles of whiskey he left behind.”
Mitzi tsked. “Poor thing.”
“Isn’t it just the saddest?” Sophie mocked. “Oh, by the way Mitzi, how’s life at the café? I hear you pulled a cool thirty bucks in tips last night. Way to go.”
Sophie made a show of clapping her hands lightly. Angela took hold of her friend’s hands and lowered them, shaking her head. Mitzi and Joanne both huffed and turned forward.
“They’re still the same.” Sophie pulled a hymnal from th
e back of the pew in front of her. “Don’t worry about them. Small-mindedness still runs rampant in Grace.”
The organ’s volume increased and the rest of the congregation took their seats. Cole took his seat in the front pew, looking back at Angela briefly before turning his attention to his hymnal.
Angela opened her own book of hymns. Mitzi glanced back at them again, but a glare from Sophie had her quickly turning to face the front of the church.
At the end of the sermon the congregation filtered out of the sanctuary amidst the swish of silk and easy Sunday chatter. Angela stayed in her seat. The pastor had spoken of forgiveness and the words were still fermenting in her head.
“Are you coming?” Sophie asked.
Angela kept her gaze at the front of the sanctuary, where the pastor greeted churchgoers and the deacon cleared the empty communion plates. A hundred questions popped into her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to walk up and ask them.
“Angie?”
Angela shook her head and turned to Sophie. “I think I’ll sit here for another minute.”
Sophie hovered, but after a moment she patted Angela’s shoulder and said, “Alright, there’s coffee and cookies on the back lawn. I’ll be there. Come find me?”
Angela nodded as Sophie walked away. She focused her attention back to the pulpit. The pastor and deacon had left, as did most everyone else.
Except for Cole.
He bid farewell to the man he had been speaking with, both smiling. Then he turned, his Stetson in his hand. His grin faded when he noticed Angela sitting alone.
She sat up straighter, rows of empty pews between them, and thought of what the pastor had said.
Cole had dressed for church, his button-up shirt freshly pressed. He had also shaven, and across the distance he looked as he had all those years ago: young and mischievous.
Angela slid out of the pew and stood in the aisle, twisting the church program in her hand. A nervous tickle in her belly urged her to close the distance between them.
Cole took the first step.
The pipes of the organ behind her blasted a series of discorded notes, tearing through the silence of the sanctuary. It was followed by a child’s giggle and her mother’s irritated reprimand. The little girl wiggled off the bench and ran into the lobby, her mother hurrying after.
When Angela turned back to Cole she found him in the same spot, but engaged in conversation with the pastor. She walked out of the sanctuary.
Thirteen
Michael flipped the table cloth over the wooden picnic table and smoothed the corners. In the center he set a basket that Sophie and Angela had decorated with red, white and blue ribbons.
“Ten down, about a million more to go.” Sophie smiled and fanned herself with a stack of napkins, handing him another folded table cloth.
Michael took the cloth and went to the next table. “Think the clouds’ll get outta here before tonight?”
“Hope so.” Sophie looked up. “It’d be nice to ditch this humidity and we can’t have fireworks if it rains.”
A dozen other people hummed around them, doing everything from setting up the outdoor stage to arranging the stuffed animal prizes in the game booths. His sister had enlisted his services to help out with the Fourth of July festivities, without much consent from him. He didn’t mind, even if it was bad luck that he had gotten paired up with Sophie on this task.
Then again, maybe his luck wasn’t all that bad. She wore a pretty blue dress that matched her eyes. It was short with puffy white tufts over the shoulders. He leaned to smooth the next checkered cloth, and he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of her toned legs and little white flip-flops. Of all there was to like about Sophie, those simple flip-flops were the most appealing.
She handed him another basket and moved on to the next table, her eyes refusing to meet his.
“So I hear you’re leaving after this,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, tomorrow. I have to get back home.”
“Michael,” she stopped working and raised her big blue eyes to him. “That girl I saw you with-”
“Nothing happened.”
Sophie’s lips curved into a smile, but there was no happiness in her eyes. She and Michael silently resumed their work, the awkwardness thicker than the humid air around them.
After a few moments, Sophie stopped working again. “Because if you did, it’s all right.”
“I didn’t sleep with her, and if I did, it wouldn’t have been all right, Sophie.”
She raised a shoulder to her ear. “Maybe not.”
He leaned over the table and set the heels of his hands on the edge of it. “You’re gonna make me say it out loud, aren’t you?”
She laughed. “You know you like me. You might as well admit it!”
“Fine.” Feigning irritation, Michael rounded his shoulders. “I like you, Sophie Alexander.”
“I knew it.” She winked and patted his cheek. “Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to wait another twenty years for that, too?”
“Twenty years?” He rounded the table and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve been waiting for me that long?”
“Don’t get a big head,” she laughed, “I had a crush on you when I was thirteen. It’s not like I’ve been thinking of you kissing me all these years.”
“But you’re thinking of it now.” He grinned and kissed her cheek.
“Oh, yeah, I’m thinking of it now.”
“Do you have any idea how annoying you’ve been?” Michael kissed her other cheek, and then her nose.
“Yes, I’m annoying,” Sophie said, faking exasperation, “it’s a well-known fact here in Grace. However, I’m not the one being a tease. And that is annoying me. So if you don’t kiss me on the lips right now I’m-”
“Demanding too,” Michael muttered, and then kissed her lips.
“Hey, you two, none of that. There is a child present.”
Michael and Sophie grinned foolishly at each other. He turned to Tina and tossed her one of the folded table cloths. “Afraid we might warp your little mind?”
Tina caught the cloth and scoffed, “Oh please. First of all, my mind is not little anymore. And second of all, I’m already warped. I'm a teenager, remember?”
The three got back to work, but Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off Sophie. He wished he hadn’t waited so long to kiss her. In a little more than twenty-four hours he was going to be on a plane heading home. And he’d miss those big blue eyes of hers.
****
Angela knelt on the stage she’d helped set up at the town square and ripped a strip of duct tape from its roll. She glanced across the lawn at Michael, who sauntered toward her with a smile as big as the Cheshire cat’s.
“Good. You’re here,” she said, patting tape over some cords. “I need your help. Have you seen Tina?”
“She’s helping Sophie finish the picnic tables. I came to see if you needed help.” Michael stepped onto the stage and took the microphone stand from Angela when she handed it to him.
“Set that there in the center.” She picked up a coil of cords and tossed it to a technician standing in back.
The clouds hovered low, keeping the wet heat locked in. Angela sighed, thinking of the outdoor concert and fireworks show that would be ruined if it rained. At least her feeble garden would get a good watering.
“You okay Angie? You seem distracted.”
“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just busy. People are starting to arrive and I still need to make sure the horses are here and ready for the kiddie rides.” She stepped off the stage. “You seem a bit distracted yourself.”
He grinned. “Sophie.”
“Sophie? As in you and Sophie?”
“Yep. Me and Sophie.” He shrugged. The grin widened.
“She wore you down?”
“I’m a weak man, sis.”
“Congrats.” She forced a smile and stepped off the stage. “Help Paul set up the speakers, will you? I need to get Tina so sh
e can help me with the horses.”
She took off at a jog toward the picnic area. People already filled the tables with laughter and chatter. Soon there’d be enough deep fried food to feed the whole lot of them, and the dozens more who were sure to arrive. Children played in the grass field and paper fans were waved all about to stir the stagnant, sticky air.
Scanning the area, she found Tina standing beneath a large maple tree with Billy, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Come on,” Angela heard Billy say as she walked closer to them. He pulled at Tina, but she kept her arms stubbornly crossed, her feet planted. “This is lame. Come with us to the quarry.”
“I helped put all this together. I want to stay.”
“Whatever.” He let go. “Do what you want.”
“Billy!” Tina called after him, but he ignored her and walked on.
“You can go if you want to,” Angela offered, standing at her side. "We can manage."
“I don’t want to go.” Tina snapped, her gaze on Billy until he disappeared between some buildings. She turned to Angela. “Sorry. He doesn’t like this sort of thing.”
“He wasn’t very nice about it,” Angela said.
“Billy loves me.” Tina’s voice softened. She rolled her shoulders back and smiled. “He’s just moody sometimes.”
“Well someone should tell him to take that stick out of his behind,” Sophie said, walking up to them with an armful of baskets and a package of napkins. She shoved the baskets at Angela and the napkins at Tina.
Tina shot Angela and Sophie a caustic look. “Drop it, okay? Let’s finish this and then I’ll help you with the kiddie horses.”
By mid-morning the setup work was done. The clouds departed enough to let the sun poke through, but the heat intensified. Angela and Sophie had just finished their hot dogs when Mrs. Bradley rushed through the crowd, her arms held out in front of her as if she were prepared to push anyone aside who got in her way.
“Angie! Angie, we need you!” By the time she reached their table she was out of breath.
“They’re judging the pie eating contest in a few minutes and Jerry had to go home,” Mrs. Bradley huffed. “The man’s got a gut that can hold just about anything, but three corndogs and a whole vat of cotton candy was a bit much for him. We need you to fill in.”
Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy #1) Page 15