How Sweet It Is

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “So pretty,” Holly said.

  From this vantage point, Jed could see a stretch of the Boise River as it flowed westward, wending its way through the center of the city and across the valley floor. In Andrew Henning’s day, the population of Boise had been about twenty-five thousand, and the valley had been farmland or desert from here to the Oregon border. Now homes and subdivisions were spreading to the south and west, joining one city to another, gobbling up both farmland and desert. In some ways, he envied his great-grandfather that simpler life. Well, maybe not simpler. Andrew had lived through the Great Depression, a second world war, and other tumultuous decades besides. But at least the area had been less crowded.

  With a soft laugh, Holly said, “Your roots are showing again.”

  For a second, he didn’t understand what she meant. Then he did, and he laughed with her. “Guilty.”

  “Do you feel the same way about where you live now?”

  He thought about the question before answering. “There’s lots to love about where I live. It’s beautiful. Greener because of all the rain. The forests are different. The ocean is close by.” He looked over the valley again. “But there’s something about all this that makes me feel like I’ve come home. It’s hard to put my finger on why.”

  In unspoken agreement, they turned and began walking again, following the trail higher and higher. A couple of times they were passed by mountain bikers. Another time they met three hikers with their dogs. Greetings were exchanged. “Beautiful day.” “Great weather.” “Nice dog.” It was almost another hour before bleating sounds punctuated the silence, telling Jed and Holly that they were about to get their earlier wish. They crested the hillside and saw them: a band of sheep grazing in a long, narrow draw.

  “Look.” Jed pointed. An enormous white dog had stopped to stare at them, assessing whether or not they were a threat. “He’s got my attention.”

  “Mine too.”

  Jed removed the phone from his pocket and snapped photos of the dog, the sheep, and finally, a herder on horseback who rode into view before he was done. Then, when she wasn’t looking his way, he snapped a few of Holly and knew he would spend a lot more time looking at those photos than the ones of the herd.

  * * *

  While Jed took his photos, Holly removed the water bottle from her backpack and took several big swallows. It had been too long since she’d done something like this, since she’d gotten away from work and her phone and her worries. Time to simply breathe deeply and enjoy the beauty of God’s creation.

  “Thanks, Jed.”

  He looked over at her.

  “I needed this.”

  “Me too.” He smiled.

  In that moment she realized she wasn’t afraid. She knew she could still get hurt. She knew she might even be wrong about Jed. He might not be all that he appeared to be, all that she wanted him to be. She knew he might be gone in another month or two. But still she wasn’t afraid. She almost wished—

  A bike came sailing over the rise, its tires leaving the ground. Jed grabbed Holly with both arms to pull her out of the way an instant before the bike would have hit her. They went down together, Jed taking the brunt of the fall. Holly heard dogs barking and lifted her head from Jed’s chest to see two Great Pyrenees charging across the draw in their direction. Thankfully, a sharp command from the sheepherder stopped the dogs.

  “Dude. You two okay?”

  She turned her head, squinting into the sun, to see the cyclist standing beside them, a gloved hand outstretched.

  “Sorry ’bout that. Didn’t mean to run you down.”

  Reluctantly, she took his hand and let him pull her up. Jed got to his feet right behind her.

  “You okay?” the cyclist repeated.

  “Yeah,” Jed answered. “We’re fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” He looked at Holly, and she nodded.

  “Okay, then. Again, real sorry.” In no time the guy was back on his bike and riding away, as if the encounter never happened.

  Holly watched him go. “I don’t think he even noticed the sheep.”

  Jed made a sound halfway between a laugh and a grunt.

  She looked at him again. “Turn around.”

  When he complied, she brushed the dirt, twigs, and pebbles from the back of his shirt. That’s when she noticed his right elbow was bloody. “Hey, you are hurt. You’re bleeding.” She touched him, just above the scrape.

  He lifted his arm, bending it and stretching to see what she meant, but he couldn’t contort quite far enough. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Holly looked for her water bottle. She’d dropped it when Jed grabbed her. She found it beneath a sagebrush. Next she withdrew a clean cloth from the backpack. It only took her a few moments more to cleanse the wound, dry it, spread some ointment over it, and then top it off with a bandage.

  “Good grief, woman. What all do you have in that backpack?”

  She laughed. “It’s good to be prepared.”

  “Were you a Girl Scout?”

  “No. But my family loved to go biking, hiking, and camping, and my dad taught his daughters well.”

  “I can see that.”

  This time his smile made a shiver run down her spine. A pleasurable kind of shiver. One of anticipation. Something flickered in his eyes. Understanding, perhaps. With it his smile faded. His eyes seemed to darken as he gazed intently into hers. His right hand rose to cup her cheek, the flat of his hand gentle against her skin. She couldn’t help but press into it. She was tempted to close her eyes, but she didn’t want to break the look passing between them. His face drew closer. Was this happening?

  “Holly.” He whispered her name, as soft as a caress.

  She feared her knees would buckle. Breathe, she reminded herself. Just breathe.

  When their lips met, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the wonderful sensations that swirled through her. She hadn’t known how much she’d wanted to be kissed by him until it happened.

  His hand moved from the side of her face to the small of her back, freeing her to lift her arms to encircle his neck. At the same time, she rose on tiptoes, wanting more, wanting all. Her former fears, her excessive caution—it was all forgotten.

  Of course, the kiss had to end eventually. It was Jed who drew back first, forcing Holly to look at him again. His dark eyes seemed to smolder, and her stomach tumbled in response. Then a slow smile tipped the corners of his mouth.

  “This isn’t the setting where I expected that to happen.”

  “You expected me to kiss you?” Amusement filled her question, and she realized how happy she felt. Happier than she’d felt in such a long time.

  “Imagined it, then.”

  “Oh, you’ve been imagining it.”

  His voice deepened. “More than you know, Ms. Stanford. More than you know.”

  She laughed aloud.

  Jed glanced toward the band of sheep, and she followed his gaze to discover the sheepherder watching them and grinning. Jed gave the man a wave. “We have an audience.”

  “So I see.” She waved to the sheepherder too. “It’s only fair, I suppose. You were taking pictures of him and his sheep.”

  Jed chuckled. “At least he doesn’t have a camera.” He looked at her again. “Come on. We’d better start back to the car.”

  She wished she could refuse. She wished they could stay right there and she could relive the kiss all over again. But then he placed his arm around her shoulders, and she realized she would have gone with him wherever he wanted to go.

  Saturday, October 25, 1969

  The entire Henning family gathered for Andrew and Helen’s fortieth wedding anniversary. Andrew would have preferred to celebrate at the farm, but their family was too big for that these days. Thankfully, Francine and Roger lived in a large home in the foothills overlooking Boise that could handle the four Henning children and their spouses, their eight grandchildren—two of whom were married—plus o
ne adorable great-granddaughter.

  The spacious kitchen rang with the voices of women as they prepared the celebration meal. Andrew observed the seeming chaos from the safety of a doorway.

  “Enter that room,” Ben said from behind him, “and you’ll be taking your life into your hands.”

  Andrew chuckled as he turned. “Look at your mother. She loves being right in the center of things, even when they won’t let her lift a finger.”

  “She’s happiest in the kitchen. Feeding her family is one of the ways she expresses her love.”

  “You’ve always understood that about her, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah. Right from the start. Of course, we three were mighty hungry back when we came to stay with you.”

  As if it were yesterday, Andrew remembered the day the three Tandy orphans had arrived at the farm, the tallest, towheaded Ben, protecting his younger brother and sister, suspicious of the strangers who’d offered them a home.

  “How is Mom? How is she really?”

  “She seems okay. There hasn’t been anything to alarm us since she had that TIA in early August. The doctors have run some extra tests, to be on the safe side. A waste of good money, she called them.” He smiled, her voice clear in his mind as she’d sputtered those words again and again. With a nod, he added, “Now we’re waiting for the results. We have an appointment for that next week.”

  “What about you? How’s your back?”

  Andrew shrugged. “Tolerable.” Was that a lie or an expression of faith? He wasn’t sure. Maybe a little of both. He still had to move with care. He still couldn’t carry anything too heavy. The way he felt now might be as good as it would ever get, according to a friend who had back troubles of his own.

  “Hey, everyone,” Louisa called from the dining room. “Find your places. Dinner’s ready. There’s room for twelve in here and eight at the table in the living room. Mom. Dad. You’re both at the big table.”

  Andrew moved to join Helen in the kitchen. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. He remembered that moment on their wedding day, as the minister proclaimed them man and wife, when she’d done the very same thing. Forty years ago.

  He leaned close and whispered, “I love you, Helen Greyson Henning. I’ve never stopped loving you. I never will.”

  She tipped her head, and he saw tears swimming in her eyes, despite the smile that curved her mouth.

  I never will, he repeated silently. Never.

  Chapter 19

  Five women from the shelter attended the next morning’s class at the restaurant. After a warm welcome, Holly told them what they would be preparing that day, as usual. She assigned stations, as usual. She dispensed ingredients, as usual. Everything was as usual as far as she was concerned.

  “Something’s different about you today,” Madalyn said.

  Holly stopped to look at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Not sure. But something’s different.”

  Holly tried to shake off the words, but her heart fluttered, as if it wanted to give her away. Because Madalyn was right. She was different. Jed’s kiss yesterday had changed her. She felt more hopeful, more carefree, more alive, more . . . something.

  “Are you in love?” Willow asked from Holly’s right side.

  She turned her head. In love? No. That wasn’t possible. She cared for Jed. She was attracted to him. His kiss had thrilled her. But love?

  Willow watched her with a steady gaze. “With Jed Henning.”

  I love Jed. She tried out the words in her head. Do I love him? No, it’s too soon, even if I wanted it to be true. And I don’t want it to be true. Do I?

  “He’s a good man, isn’t he?” Willow prompted.

  “I think so. I mean yes, I’m sure he is a good man.”

  “Is he a man who loves his family? Would he do anything for them?”

  “Yes, I believe he would. Family’s what brought him to Boise.”

  “Then I’m glad for you.” Willow lowered her eyes to the mozzarella cheese and grater before her.

  Laughter from the opposite end of the worktable drew Holly’s attention, and soon after she moved away from Willow’s side to answer a question from one of the other women. But in the back of her mind, she didn’t forget her own question: Is it possible I love him?

  Every moment of her time with Jed yesterday had been special. The hike. The weather. The kiss. The early fast-food dinner they’d shared before going home. Even their parting words before each had returned to their separate living quarters.

  Am I in love with him?

  Even if it was love, could she trust those feelings? Didn’t the Bible say the heart was deceptive above all else? She’d been in love with Nathan and that had ended in disaster. Nathan had given her plenty of clues to let her know something wasn’t right between them, that he wasn’t the man she’d believed him to be. She’d seen and ignored all those clues because she’d loved him. Or thought it was love. How could she be sure of what she felt for Jed?

  Slowly, she became aware that the kitchen had fallen silent. Then she realized her students were all looking toward the back entrance. She followed their gazes—and there stood the man at the center of her thoughts, the door closing behind him. Her pulse quickened.

  Sorry, Jed mouthed.

  Feeling ridiculously happy to see him, her doubts evaporating, she walked across the kitchen. She didn’t need to define her feelings, she decided. She could simply enjoy them.

  “Didn’t mean to intrude, but curiosity got the better of me.” He smiled that slow smile of his. “I wanted to see what you’re doing with these lessons. Or am I banned because I’m male?”

  She wished she could kiss him. Instead, she faced the small group of women. “Anybody object to Jed joining us?”

  Shaking heads confirmed what she’d suspected. Perhaps it helped that they’d all met him on Saturday in the Lighthouse common room.

  She faced Jed a second time. “There’s an apron over there.” She pointed. “And you can wash your hands in that sink.”

  “I’m here to watch.”

  “No one just watches in my class.” She gave him a sassy smile, feeling happier by the second. “Apron, sir.”

  Someone behind Holly laughed. She suspected it was Willow, but she didn’t look to see if she was right. It was more fun to watch Jed’s expression as he tried to decide whether or not to comply with her command. In the end he did. However, there was a mischievous look in his eyes that said he would be thinking up an appropriate payback for the future.

  Once he donned the apron and washed his hands, Holly led him to a spot at the work counter. Handing him a knife, she said, “Your job is to slice the mushrooms really thin. And don’t cut yourself.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You think I don’t know how to use a knife?”

  She didn’t answer him. Instead, she directed her comments to the whole kitchen. “Since there are six of you now, let’s break into groups of three, and each group will complete the lasagna recipe. We should have plenty of the ingredients. I’ll get the extra bowls and pans we’ll need.”

  * * *

  Jed was surprised how much he enjoyed the next hour and a half. He’d spent so much time at work that he was lucky to know where the kitchen in his home was. He was used to takeout and delivered meals and rarely prepared anything more than coffee. But he hadn’t lied. He could slice, dice, and chop when required.

  While the lasagna baked in the oven, four of the women cleaned up the counters. Jed washed the dishes and utensils, and Willow dried them. No one rushed with their duties since they had a forty-five-minute wait. Small conversations took place around the large room, the sound pleasant.

  “Do you like to cook too?” Willow put the last of the dirty items into the dishwater.

  He shrugged. “I enjoyed this morning. But it isn’t much fun to cook for one. I don’t see making a recipe like this for myself.”

  “I know.” A shadow passed over her face. Then she smiled softly. �
��But my little boy is growing up, so when I leave the shelter, I won’t be cooking for one. AJ loves lots of the things Holly’s taught us to make, and he’s got a healthy appetite.”

  “Mom says Chris and I tried to eat her out of house and home when we were little.”

  “Chris is your brother.” It didn’t sound like a question.

  “Yeah. My kid brother.”

  “You’re close?”

  He let a bowl settle back to the bottom of the suds-filled sink. “We were, once. I’d like us to be again. That’s why I’m in Boise. To see if we can figure things out.” A few weeks ago, that would have been mostly a lie. He’d come to Boise because he was forced to. He’d come to try to save his company. But the words weren’t a lie now. He really did want to figure things out with Chris, if his brother would give him the chance.

  “It isn’t easy, figuring things out.” She spoke softly, almost to herself.

  “No. It isn’t.”

  “I hope it works out for you. I’ll bet your brother does too. Whether or not he knows it.”

  “Thanks.” He held out the rinsed bowl to her, and she took it with the towel in her hands.

  The oven timer chimed, putting an end to their conversation.

  “We’ll let it cool about ten minutes,” Holly said as she removed the pans of lasagna from the oven, “before we cut into it. To lower your costs when making this recipe, you can use frozen spinach instead of fresh. And even if you’re making it for only one or two people, you can cut it up in single-size portions and freeze it for later. If you do that, be sure you use airtight containers. That will keep it good for up to about three months.”

  Willow leaned closer to Jed. “Looks like you can make it for yourself after all.” Then she moved away.

  Smiling to himself, wondering if he ever might make lasagna in his kitchen back home, Jed let the water out of the sink, then rinsed away the last of the suds with a spray of fresh water. Holly joined him before he’d finished.

  “What did you say to Willow?”