Finding Love, page 5
The barn had been packed from opening to close. His feet were thankful to get out of his boots once he entered the B&B doors. It had taken every concentrated effort to pull them off and flop backward onto the bed. Now, if only sleep would come as quickly. Once again, Delaney Jones filled his thoughts.
What was it about her that punched him in the gut? He’d dated before. Been close to marrying even. Yet, none of those women affected him like Delaney. There was something about her that made all his protective instincts come out in full force. Not only that, but he wanted to be the one to help her have fun and lighten up. Sorrow clung to her like another layer of skin.
Was it his appearance that brought out the dark cloud? Perhaps she just didn’t like strange men who killed her husband. It was obvious she was wary around him and he couldn’t blame her. The trauma he caused her family was enough to give anyone a sideways glance. Regardless of how he came to Maple Run, he still wanted a chance with her. It took all his will power not to beg her to go out with him.
How was one supposed to handle a situation like this? He rolled into town, told her he was supposed to be on the helicopter and then…oh, hey, want to go out? He gave a derisive snort. Finding love wasn’t his objective. All he wanted to do was make amends for his part in Jones’s death. Except, no one told him how incredibly beautiful Jones’s wife was.
He squeezed his eyes shut. His brain couldn’t handle the conundrum that was a widowed woman. There should be some manual on navigating those dating waters. How did you know if she was ready to move on? Plus, she had kids. He’d seen the manual on that and it wasn’t something he wanted to jump into unprepared.
Logically that is.
Emotionally was a different story. His heart speed up in her presence. He felt like a pubescent teen experiencing his first crush. All he could think of was Delaney. What did she like to do for fun? What could he do to make her notice him? It would have been pathetic and almost humorous if anxiety didn’t press so heavily upon him.
He rolled onto his stomach. “I need a diversion, Lord. I can’t think about her like this. She’s Jones’s wife.”
Jones isn’t here anymore. The words of Romans scrolled through his mind, “For the woman which hath an husband is bound by the law to her husband so long as he liveth; but if the husband be dead, she is loosed from the law of her husband.”
Lord, why can’t I reconcile this in my mind? I don’t want to do anything outside of Your will. I certainly don’t want to express interest and insult her or her late husband. And do I even refer to Jones’s as her husband anymore? It’s so convoluted, Lord.
He wanted a drink. The feeling coursed through him, hot and swift. With a groan, he picked up his cell phone and dialed his best friend.
“Campbell, here.”
“Hey, Soup.” Luke said, using his friend’s military call sign. “It’s Crusoe. How are you?”
“Crusoe! When did you hit stateside?”
“A week ago.”
“Where are you?”
“Maple Run, Virginia.”
“Virginia? What are you doing there?”
“Making amends. That’s not why I called though.” He licked his lips. “I want a drink, man.”
“Have you prayed?”
He swallowed. “No, dialed your number.”
“Let me pray for you.” Campbell cleared his throat. “Heavenly Father, we ask that peace would flood Crusoe’s soul. Please take temptation away from him and replace it with Your Spirit and truth. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”
“Amen,” he whispered.
“What brought this on?”
“Jones’s wife.”
“Okay,” Campbell drew out. “What does that mean?”
“I like her, Soup.”
“Like like?”
“Yep. I know I shouldn’t but I do.”
“Why shouldn’t you like her?”
“Hello, she’s a widow.”
“That’s right, a widow. I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but she’s no longer married in the eyes of the Lord. If—and that’s on her—if she wanted to start dating, she wouldn’t be sinning. Just like you wouldn’t be sinning if you started seeing her.”
“Then why do I still feel guilty for thinking of her like that?”
“Because you’re still blaming yourself for his death. You know as well as I do that things happen. Something comes up and another soldier takes someone else’s place. It’s part of the job, Crusoe.”
“Yeah but Soup, I was supposed to be on that helo.”
“And you weren’t. God has some purpose for you, man. Blaming yourself is nothing but you doubting God.”
His mouth dropped open in shock. He’d never thought of it that way. Never. “I…uh…” have no clue what to say.
“Hey, man, I get why you’re nervous. Dating isn’t easy. Being with someone who’s been divorced, has kids, or in your case, a widow makes it tougher. But don’t look for reasons not to try. If you’re truly interested in her, you need to let her know.”
He wasn’t sure what to think about that, but he appreciated the advice. “Thanks, Soup.”
“Anytime, Crusoe, anytime.”
Luke hung up, thankful for the wisdom of his friend.
Years ago he met Micah Campbell, or Soup as they called him, on a deployment. After Luke suffered an injury, a medevac was called. Micah had been the flight nurse who got him to safety and saw to his injuries. After that, they struck up a friendship.
When his team died in the helicopter crash, grief overcame him. For a year, he spiraled out of control, taking comfort in the bottle. Then another chance meeting during a deployment brought them together. Micah’s steadfast faith had seen him through withdrawals and helped him develop a relationship with God. He owed the man and would help him in any way he could. Just turned out that tonight he was once again in need of assistance.
He thought about Delaney and her kids. Was he using Jones as an excuse not to get rejected? Because deep down, he expected Delaney to reject him. He had a hand in her husband’s death. He was still in the military. And he was white.
Okay, so the last one he was unsure of. She didn’t seem the type to be racist or reject a guy based on the color of his skin, but he didn’t know.
Because you’re hiding behind Jones’s death.
He ran a hand down his face. Okay, so Soup was right. He was too scared to let her know how he felt. That was something he could pray about. God’s answer was sure to be interesting.
“Mom, wake up!”
Delaney groaned as Preston jumped on her bed and shook her body. To think she used to be annoyed by him pulling her eyelids open. At least then, he didn’t shake her body like she was a Magic 8 Ball.
“Pres, I’m tired.”
“But it’s morning time,” he whined.
She cracked open an eye to stare at the glass, heart-shaped clock on her nightstand. It was a one-year-anniversary gift from Parker. The personalized clock was engraved with the statement, “You have my heart until the end of time.” For the first month after his death, she’d slept with the thing.
It was barely past six in the morning.
“Pres, it’s too early.”
“Then why is the sun up?” He peered down into her face, his eyebrows raised in gross exaggeration. His brown puppy dog eyes gleamed against his brown skin as he waited for a response.
“Because it’s summer time and rises early.”
“Technically the sun doesn’t rise, the earth rotates.”
Ugh, smarty pants. “Is your grandmother awake?”
“No, that’s why you need to get up. I’m starving.” He stretched the last word out to four syllables.
“Is Philip awake?”
Preston snorted. “Of course not, he’s buried under his covers.” He tugged at her arm trying to pull her out of the bed. “Besides he doesn’t have to be awake for you to make breakfast. As soon as you start cooking, he’ll wake up.”
It was true. Her nine-year olds were ruled by their stomachs. She’d assumed big appetites wouldn’t hit until high school years. Dwight had been constantly hungry as a teen. Yet, she must have buried the memories of him being a bottomless pit at nine. And to think, God gave her two boys at once.
Double blessing.
Parker had always referred to the boys as a double blessing. He insisted God gave them two because Delaney would be that good of a mom. She had no clue if she was, but she had to get up and make breakfast or risk her arm being pulled out of the socket.
“All right, I’ll make breakfast.”
“Thank you. I want waffles.”
Of course, he does.
She stared at him, exasperation trying to wheedle its way in her heart. A morning person she was not.
He clasped his hands holding them underneath his chin. “Please, Mom.”
“All right, Pres.” How could she resist that adorable face? “Waffles it is.”
“Yes! Maple bacon waffles?” He threw a charming smile her way.
She nodded and he squealed in delight. A moment later, he raced down the hall, his feet pounded down the stairs. He was probably headed straight for the kitchen so that he could set out the ingredients. Helper was Preston’s middle name. Granted, he had a heavy hand with spices, but in waffles, that wasn’t a bad element.
Dee grabbed her pale blue robe, draped over the foot of the bed, and wrapped it around her to ward off the chill. Her mother was going through ‘the change’ and had the air conditioner set to mid-sixties. It felt like fall nipped at the door instead of summer. Delaney was more of a seventy-five or higher kind of girl.
Yawning, she trudged down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Sure enough, Preston had laid out all the items necessary and was waiting patiently. “Wash your hands.”
He wiggled his fingers in the air. “Done.”
“Okay, grab some flour.”
Preston enthusiastically added ingredients to the batter. Once it was mixed, she poured it into the waffle iron. The smell of the waffles began to permeate the air, waking her better than a pot of coffee.
Once they were done, she placed two waffles in front of him.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Welcome.”
She turned to refill the waffle iron. It was probably her favorite appliance in the kitchen. The waffles were always nice and thick, with deep pockets warm and ready for the syrup. In spite of their abundant fluffiness, Preston could still pack them away. Once Philip was up, she’d need to make more to fill their tummies.
“Morning,” Philip called as he entered the kitchen. His curly black hair was tousled every which way.
“Morning, Philip. Hungry?”
He nodded sleepily. Her mother breezed in, wearing standard work wear for The Maple Pit: jeans and a t-shirt.
“Morning, guys,” Mrs. Williams said.
“Morning, Ma.” Delaney held a plate piled high with waffles. “Waffles?”
Her mother shook her head. “I need to head in and show Luke how to do food prep for breakfast.”
“He’s working for breakfast?” Her stomach flopped, an image of him with the chef’s double-breasted jacket flashed in her mind.
She thought his height would make him appear awkward but assurance had oozed from him during last night’s dinner rush. How could a man that ruggedly handsome cook so well? It was a dichotomy she was tempted to explore.
Ignore his good looks, Dee, and remember his day job.
Her heart squeezed. Luke was on leave. When it was over, he’d be back on some army fort working for Uncle Sam, while she remained in Maple Run. She ignored the twinge of emotion that flittered through her. No time to examine it.
“Yes, I figured he needed to learn all the mealtimes so we can rotate and not burn out.”
“Do you have any idea when Dwight will be back at work?”
“He has to wear the cast for six weeks.” Sadness tinged her mother’s voice.
“What?” Her mouth dropped open. “Luke’s only going to be here for three and a half more weeks.” Which was way too long in her opinion.
“I know. We talked about it briefly last night. I’m going to see if Nina can hire a temporary replacement by the time Luke leaves.”
“So he’s staying.” It was more statement than question.
“He is.” Her mother eyed her. “Is there a problem?”
Dee shook her head. No way she wanted her mother in her head and exploring her feelings on the subject of Luke Robinson. Her mother was a fan of talking about everything. Delaney shuddered. Feelings were supposed to be stuffed so far down you couldn’t find them if you tried. Of course, she didn’t think that way about every feeling, However, when it came to the opposite sex, it was a completely different matter. Particularly, when it came to a certain Texan with ice blue eyes. One who made her think about dating and fairytale endings.
Not going to happen, Delaney. Remember what he does for a living.
God help her if she ever forgot.
Chapter Seven
Breakfast time.
It was Luke’s favorite part of the day. Nothing like a big spread of protein and a pot of coffee to fuel one’s day. Adding maple to the ingredients seemed like a stroke of genius. He’d always thought the concoction a little too bland but the dark amber used in their waffles and pancakes was nothing short of amazing. He’d be a maple convert for life.
Apparently, the Williams family tapped the maple trees on their property. Mrs. Williams had shared their family tradition and all it entailed. Unfortunately, the trees didn’t produce enough to keep the restaurant in supply throughout the year. So, they purchased maple syrup from a family-owned business in Vermont and other maple retailers. It had been an enlightening conversation. Mrs. Williams practically sparkled with excitement as she relayed the process.
He peeked at her as she readied an order. Once she hit her cooking groove, she was actually pretty quiet. He thought he would have the morning off, but she wanted to show him the morning routine. Part of him wanted to ask how Delaney was, but he didn’t want to be too obvious. He plated the waffles that were topped with bits of maple flavored bacon, despite having bacon baked into the batter as well. Could you ever really have too much bacon?
“It’s funny you just made that.” Mrs. Williams smiled at him. “Delaney was making waffles this morning.
Just the opening he needed. “How is she?”
“Looked half alive this morning.” She chuckled. “I’m sure Preston dragged her out of bed. She likes to sleep in.”
So did he.
“Is she off today?” He tried to infuse a nonchalant tone into his voice, but he must have failed.
Mrs. Williams stilled and looked him straight in the eyes. “She is,” she replied slowly. “Is there something you need to tell me Luke Robinson?”
He gulped. She sounded just like his Gram. “No, ma’am.”
Mrs. Williams turned and reached for some bananas. “You know…Parker’s been gone for a few years.”
“I know.” Three to be exact.
“Mm-hmm. I’ve always thought my daughter too good to just waste away until the Lord sees fit to carry her home. I mean she’s only in her thirties. She could remarry and have a long successful marriage.”
He tugged at his collar. “I’m sure she could.”
“I just can’t seem to convince her to start dating again. She needs to get her feet wet, if you get my drift.”
He nodded.
“Plus, Maple Run is lacking in the interested-and-available pool of men.”
“Small towns are like that at times.”
“I agree.” She looked at him again. “Although, now I’m beginning to wonder if it wasn’t part of God’s timing. Seems like someone could catch her eye if he wanted to.”
He blinked. Was she giving him the green light? A spark of hope lit inside him. If a man could get the approval of a woman’s parents, then all the rest was a piece of cake. “Maybe he’s not sure she’ll go for it, considering his line of work.”
She nodded. “There is that. But what harm is there in dating and seeing what happens? Of course, a fella could do the smart thing and leave that part up to God. Just express his interests and let the rest happen as it’s supposed to.”
His heart pounded in his chest. Expressing his interest was what kept him awake most of the night. Could he do it? Just walk up and tell her he liked her? Something so juvenile but so complex all at the same time.
“Don’t be scared, Luke. God’s got you.”
With a wink, she went back to cooking in silence.
With last night’s conversation with Micah and this morning’s conversation with Delaney’s mother, Luke began to think God was trying to tell him something. He thought for sure the feelings he experienced whenever Delaney was near him were ones he needed to pray away. After all, how could you atone for sins when you were mooning over the woman you inadvertently wronged? Yet now, he was wondering if God wasn’t offering him an opportunity to find love.
Lord, do you really want me to tell Delaney I like her? He wiped a hand down his face and rested his elbows on his knees. The park was bright and sunny today, birds and cicadas added to the cacophony of noise. Yet, the sounds of summer did nothing to soothe his soul. His insides felt more twisted up then tangled fishing line.
I like her, Lord. Really like her. I would love the chance to get to know her better and see if something could develop. But she’s Jones’s wife, and I’m supposed to go back to the military in three weeks.
Three weeks.
Could he try and start a relationship and then hightail it back to work? Sure, he would want to try and make a long-distance relationship work, but they rarely did. Especially, in the military. He didn’t know what he would do if he got a “Dear John” letter from her.
But could he leave in three weeks without letting her know how he felt? Wouldn’t that be worse…wondering what if? If he didn’t tell her, he might have always wondered what could have been. He groaned. You have to tell her, Robinson. If she rejected him, he’d suck it up like a man…like a soldier. What other choice did he have?
