A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (20 page)

Tears slid down her cheeks. Something else that was all her fault. Something else she couldn't undo. No wonder he couldn't forgive her.

"I would've died, too, if there hadn't been a woman in the car right behind me who saved my life. That's why I decided to become a nurse."

Unrelenting pain closed her eyes, and more tears slipped from beneath her eyelids. It took every ounce of strength she had to open her eyes and look him in the face. "I'm so sorry, Chance. I never meant to hurt you or your family. After I saw you at the ballgame with that other girl, something just snapped, and I had to leave. Please forgive me."

He reached across the table and took her hand. "I already have. But you should know that girl was my cousin. She'd come down for a family reunion. At one point I did blame you for everything that happened, but I don't anymore. God used it for good."

Pure grace, but would that same gracious spirit be extended to her if he knew the rest of the story? Her gaze returned to the scars. "Are they painful?"

"Not physically." He hesitated. "I'm just afraid no one will ever want me this way."

Her heart pounded, partly because he felt that way and partly because she was powerless to do anything about it. "That's a lie straight from the enemy. If someone truly loves you, it won't matter."

He went quiet again, his probing gaze delving deep.

Just when she thought she couldn't take another second of his perusal, the waitress stepped up with their food, then left to take care of a large group that entered. Dakota brought finger tips to her face to wipe away tears. "Hope I can eat these now."

He smiled. "Let me bless the food, and then we'll talk about happier times."

True to his word, throughout the rest of the meal, Chance regaled her with happy memories of their time together that summer, bringing forth laughter from both of them.

Just as they checked out a half hour later, her new neighbor entered the diner and moved straight to them. "Well, isn't this a coincidence?" He shook hands with Chance, but his gaze rested on her. 

Spider legs crept down her back. What was it about this guy that gave her the creeps? He seemed nice enough.

"You two are sure dressed up." His beady eyes focused on the neckline of her dress.

Instinctively, Dakota brought a hand to her chest.

Chance must have noticed her discomfort, because as soon as he put away his wallet, he placed his hand on her back and faced Vincent. "Yeah, we went to the hospital party and then decided we needed some real food. Good to see you." Without giving the man a chance to respond, he led Dakota outside to the truck, his hand still on her back. After helping her in, he moved around the front of the truck and crawled in the cab.

"Something about that man gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"So you've mentioned before. What is it about him that bothers you so much?"

"A lot of things actually. It's like he's not who he's pretending to be."

Chance started the truck. "I don't think you really have much to worry about. He seems pretty harmless to me."

Thoughts rolled in her head. Was this nothing more than her overactive imagination at play? Definitely possible. She inhaled a deep breath to relax and focused on the topic of work still to be done to the house and property. In what seemed like just a few seconds, they arrived at the farmhouse.

A current of disappointment tugged at her heart as Chance walked her to the door. How nice it would be if their relationship were different. If instead of telling him goodnight and giving back the jacket she still clutched around her for warmth, he would enter the house with her as her husband.

Blood rushed to her head.
No, Dakota! You know better.
A slow breath whooshed from her lungs. Things worked out the way they did for a reason, and she wouldn't go back on her decision to be anything but his friend.

With fumbling fingers, she unlocked the door, then faced him. "In spite of everything, I really enjoyed the evening. I..." Her words trailed off momentarily, and she fidgeted with her hands. "I really enjoyed spending time with you."

Before she even realized what was happening, he leaned in and kissed her.

And for one heartbreaking moment, she allowed it. Even kissed him back. Alarms rang in her head. No. This had to stop. She raised her hands to his chest and pushed him away.

His eyes held raw anguish.

She yanked her gaze away, and without a word, let his jacket slip to the porch floor, entered the house, and sl
ammed the door behind her. Her back to the door, she slid to the ground, her green dress pooled about her, and released the heart-breaking sobs that refused to be contained any longer.

Chapter Eighteen

"C
hance, may I speak with you a minute?" Dakota blurted out the words and half-ran to catch up with Chance as he headed down the steps of the church building. If only there were an easier way to handle issues other than talking through things.

He continued down the steps and into the grass, then spun around to face her, his expression dark and unsmiling. "I came to the farm to work yesterday. You weren't there."

She melted beneath his laser-like glare. "Sorry. I needed time to think."

Chance didn't respond at first, but kept his eyes averted to the ground where he dug up the sod with the toe of his boot. "I thought you'd baled on me again."

Yes, he would naturally come to that conclusion after the way things ended before. "I understand why you'd think that, but as you can see, I'm still here." She released a heavy sigh. "Look, can we at least talk about what happened Friday night?"

His head cocked to one side, his eyes once more delving into the depths of her being. "Well, that's progress, I suppose. At least you're attempting to work things out."

"I hate confrontation worse than a root canal, but it's not going to get any better unless we work through it."

He nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer. His expression had lost at least some of the animosity, but he still didn't smile. "Okay. I'll pick up a bucket of chicken and meet you at the farm."

"Sounds good."

Without another word, he turned his back and strode away, his head lowered and steps purposeful, keys dangling from one hand.

Her heart ached. If only there was someway to make this work. His kiss the other night had resurrected a myriad of powerful feelings inside her, the familiar pain and fear crippling. But it had stirred up more. Emotions she didn't want to admit. Emotions that had driven her to leave town yesterday in an attempt to escape.

Dakota traipsed to her truck. The trip through downtown Miller's Creek on her way out to the farm unleashed the typical nostalgia. With its quaint city square and people milling about, the placed oozed home and deep-seated roots, two things she wanted more than air to breathe.

The ache in her heart intensified as she turned onto the farm-to-market road that led back to the farm. More than likely she'd soon be on her way to somewhere else. How many somewhere else's did she have to endure? With a shake of her head and clamped lips she pressed the gas pedal.
Get over it, Dakota. That's just your life.
She'd just have to make this work until the house renovation was finished and figure out the rest later.

She pulled up outside the farmhouse and climbed the steps slowly. Oh, the plans she had for this place. But even after hundreds of hours of work, it still felt like she'd never see the project's completion. She stopped at the front door and closed her eyes.
Oh, Lord, give me the right attitude and the words to say to Chance so we can move forward.

Dakota moved into the house with a promise to herself to go for a walk to the bridge later and enjoy this unusually mild November day. She'd just finished changing into her jeans and a sweater she'd picked up for a quarter at a garage sale, when the motor noise of Chance's truck sounded outside. With nimble feet she descended the worn steps and made it to the door just as he knocked. She swung open the door with a smile, hoping to somehow soften his earlier sullen demeanor. "Come on in. Boy, that chicken smells good."

Instead, he barely acknowledged her presence and stepped over the threshold with the aromatic bucket and bags without smiling. "Coffee table okay?"

She nodded and followed him to the living room. "Want a bottle of water?"

He sat down the food and produced a can of soft drink from his inside jacket pocket. "No thanks. I picked up a DP." Chance popped the top of the can of Dr Pepper and took a swig.

Dakota nodded and moved to the kitchen to get herself a bottle of water, his atypical choice of drink not lost on her. A bona fide health nut, Chance wasn't one to drink carbonated drinks unless he was stressed and at his limits. This should prove to be a fun conversation.

Her resolve diminishing more by the minute, she returned to the living room and took a seat on a chair, rather than sit beside him on the couch.

"Too good to sit next to me?"

She shook her head. "No. I can just tell you're in a foul mood, and I'd like to keep my head today, thank you." Dakota chomped into the juicy chicken breast, the crispy outer layer crumbling in her mouth.

Once more he chose not to answer, but the dark look on his face spoke volumes. With brusque movements, he tore into the sack and produced two small containers of mashed potatoes smothered with brown gravy and two spoons. Not bothering to hand her one, he removed the lid of one and plowed into the potatoes.

Dakota scratched the itch right above her eyebrow. Okay, she needed to figure out how to turn this around fast. If not, one or the other of them was bound to blow their cool. She'd much rather turn the day around now than pick up the pieces later. "I enjoyed the other night, Chance. You made me feel very protected at the party. I couldn't have asked for a better evening."

He didn't look up, but continued to eat.

Well, at least she'd tried. Once more she put her mind to work on a solution and took another bite of the tasty chicken.

He leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. "So you enjoyed everything but kissing me? Am I that repulsive?"

The vulnerable words he'd spoken at the diner about his fears scrambled into the forefront of her brain. She shook her head. "I don't find you repulsive at all." In fact, just the opposite. But she couldn't tell him and stay true to her promise. Now was the best time to let him know that she could only be his friend. She laid the remainder of the chicken piece on a napkin in her lap, then used another one to wipe her greasy fingers and lips. "I know I should've mentioned this earlier, but I don't intend on ever being a part of another romantic relationship." Dakota glanced up to gauge his reaction.

"Why?"

"Things that happened in my past. Things I'm not prepared to discuss."

He didn't move, and his forehead creased into an even deeper frown. "I don't think you're being completely truthful."

"You're passing judgment on my decision?"

Chance leaned forward, his elbows at rest on his lanky legs. "No, but I think you're afraid."

"Afraid?" She released a derisive snort, more than a little bothered that he knew her so well. "Afraid of what?"

"Of having feelings for me again." His voice was velvety low. "You can deny it if you want, Dakota, but I saw it in your eyes Friday night. Felt it in the way you kissed me back."

She picked up the chicken and chomped into it again, deliberately keeping her gaze lowered. No way she would confirm the truth of his observation. "Think what you want."

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. No matter how hard she tried to think of something to change the subject and bring things back in the direction she wanted to go, nothing came to mind.

After lunch was cleaned up, Chance moved to the door, then paused to look back over his shoulder. "Pretty day outside. Feel like taking a walk to the bridge?"

Hadn't she already had that thought? But she hadn't planned on walking there with him. So much of their history had taken place at that very spot, the bridge inexorably tied to their relationship. And she wasn't prepared to confront its dilapidated condition after the last storm, yet another symbol of her fractured ties with Chance.

He sighed impatiently. "Come on, Dakota. You're the one who wanted to talk. Maybe it will be easier for both of us if we're out enjoying the fresh air and sunshine."

Reluctantly she dragged herself from the chair and followed him out the door, Daisy scooting past both of them in total abandon and joy. If only she could feel the same way. Instead, she was confined and trapped in a jail of her own making, with bars that were impossible to remove.

Chance grabbed at a piece of the tall dried grass and broke off a piece, twining it through his fingers. "You know, I tried very hard the other night to be open and honest with you, even though it was uncomfortable."

"If it was so uncomfortable then why'd you do it?" She squinted against the brightness of the mid-afternoon sun.

His gaze focused far in the distance. "Hoped it would make you want to reciprocate. Can't exactly get past those castle walls of yours on my own. It's a two-way street and I need your help."