A Love Like Ours (32 page)

“Sh—she’s too young for me.”

“What do you mean? She looked like she was thirty-five or something.”

Typical Madison. Everyone over twenty-two looked to her like a washed-up thirty-five-year-old. “I think she’s twenty-eight.”

“So what if she is? Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are twelve years apart in age. Nobody cares. Nobody but you even thinks about stuff like that, Dad.”

“I . . .”

She collected her purse and phone and headed toward her bedroom. “Maybe if you were dating Amber”—she didn’t bother looking back—“you wouldn’t be calling me six times on a Saturday night.”

“I’d still be calling you six times on a Saturday night. That’s what parents do.”

Will stayed in his kitchen, alone, surrounded by the hum of the appliances. Madison had indeed been four when Michelle had left, Taylor only two. Taylor had still been in diapers, for pity’s sake. For the first several years it was all Will could do just to try to keep his head above water as a single dad. His girls had needed all he had to give them times ten, so that’s what he’d given.

He worked at the fire station and built decks on his off-days while they were in school. For the most part, though, his life had revolved around Madison and Taylor for so long that he found it
difficult, standing here alone in his kitchen, to think of himself as anything other than their father.

Madison was right about the fact that they’d both be moving away soon. He’d been investing in college funds for them since the beginning so that he could afford to send them to one of the University of Texas schools. He’d raised them so that they’d be ready to leave him.

He’d planned for their futures.

But not his own.

He looked around at the interior of the house, the same three-bedroom, two-bathroom ranch house that he and Michelle had bought right before Madison’s birth. It sat on the edge of town, with horse country behind them and just a few neighbors beside them. He’d always been decent with tools, and he’d renovated the house one project at a time, a bathroom one summer, the kitchen the next, the patio. He was forty years old with a solid house, a solid job, and two almost-grown daughters to show for it.

But what if he was the one in the car wreck a week or a year from now? Would he be completely satisfied with how he’d lived? Life was short, and God only gave you one chance at it. Did he really believe that God had a plan for him—just him, the man—separate from his children? It almost seemed wrong to think that. But the longer Will considered it, the more he began to think that the idea had worth. God wasn’t done with him yet.

Across town, Lyndie was doing some deep thinking of her own. Most of it went along the lines of
How dare he?!
and
I’m going to need more Kleenex
.

She blew her nose, tossed the crumpled tissue in the trash, then pulled another tissue from the box and used it to blot the tears that wouldn’t quit trickling down her face. She’d perched on the stool in her studio, her hair in its topknot. Her animals sat on the floor at her feet, staring up at her with agitated concern while she painted as if her life depended on it.

The scene taking shape on her art paper revealed the gloomy prince, his face merciless, his cape billowing. He pointed his finger into the distance, demanding that the fairies and the unicorns leave him to his solitude. The blond fairy had her hands fisted, her face set with belligerence.

In the painting before this one, the prince had slammed the door of his gray castle in the faces of the hopeful fairies. In that one the blond fairy had been crying.

And in the painting before that, the prince had been standing in front of his throne. The blond fairy had been attempting to wave the healing wand over him, but he’d taken it from her and shattered it, despite her pleas.

None of the endings were happy. Her planned story of hope and healing had taken a terrible turn.

He’d had the nerve—
the nerve!
—to tell her she wasn’t a good jockey. He didn’t have a jockey or an exercise rider who’d done more for his stable than she had for the past two months. And when it came down to it, she believed that Jake knew that.

She couldn’t shake the intuition that her ride on Silver Leaf today had been just a small part of his motivation for firing her. He’d had other reasons. But she couldn’t begin to comprehend those reasons. When she’d asked him to tell her the truth, he’d refused.

He’d come such a long way. He’d begun to improve. He cared about her, she knew he did!

He never told you he did, Lyndie. He
never said the words.

And yet he had told her. He’d told her with his eyes and with his kisses. He’d told her in a way that was both deeper than language and also more reliable. . . . She’d thought. Her mind kept going back over a hundred memories of him, using them as evidence. Jake had cared about her! So why, why, why had he destroyed everything today?

She set her brush aside and braced her hands on her knees, peering at the picture on her easel as if it held the answers she required.

Just ten days ago her sister’s health had been stable, she’d had a job riding horses, she’d had Jake. And now it had all fallen through
her hands. She didn’t know if there was anything she could have done differently that would have kept today from going the way that it had. She’d been second-guessing her actions, wondering if she should have ridden Silver Leaf differently, if she’d pushed Jake too hard or not hard enough.

She’d always believed Jake had a heart of gold underneath his gruffness. But perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps she lacked objectivity because she’d adored and admired him so much as a girl. Maybe he’d simply been too deeply wounded to hold up his side of a relationship. Or it could be that the darkness that fought for control of him had gained the upper hand. Maybe the stress of Mollie’s illness had been too much. She shouldn’t have let him come up to the hospital—

Really, Lyndie?
She jerked free another tissue.
He breaks up with you and you’re seeking to blame yourself?
She swiped at her eyes and stormed to the window.

She’d actually become one of those women who fell in love with a man she hoped would one day change. From their first kiss onward, she’d understood the dangers of falling for Jake. He was a man who didn’t have a relationship with God. A man who hadn’t opened up to her about Iraq nor communicated how he felt about her.

It had been her hope and prayer that those things would come in time. That’s how she’d rationalized away her misgivings.

“God is good,” she said to reassure herself. “God is good.” One of the verses she’d memorized came to her like a sigh.
The Lord is trustworthy in all He promises and faithful in all He does. The Lord upholds all
who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.

She definitely classified as bowed down at this particular moment.

Her phone vibrated to signal an incoming text. She picked it up. Not from Jake. From Teddy, the one who’d taken the purity pledge, asking her if she wanted to go to Bible study with him next week. She set the phone on her desk and returned to staring out the window. Jake, of course, would not deign to text or call her.

He was tall and dark and brooding, and she was over it! She was over the brooding part.
So
over it.

Except . . . she couldn’t forget the way he’d carried her in his arms after her spill. Or brought her Reese’s. Or the way he’d said
“I’m not good enough for you
” the night they’d kissed. Or all the times he’d checked on her grandpa.

Or all the dozens of other ways . . .

He’d made her love him. She loved the grim, hard-hearted jerk with stunning force, and it felt wretched because he’d made himself impossible to love.

She’d failed at healing the man she’d wanted most to heal. And in the process, he’d ended up wounding her.

J
ayden?” Amber called the next afternoon, coming to a stop just inside his bedroom. She couldn’t see him. “Jayden?”

“I’m not here right now.”

Amber laughed. “Something tells me you’re here.”

“What?”

“Your voice.”

“Oh.” Her son rose into view on the far side of his twin bed.

They’d returned home from church and grabbed a quick lunch, then she’d dressed him in a pair of shorts and a cheap orange T-shirt. If only she were wearing something equally normal for the Color the World Happy 5K. Instead, she’d talked the girls at work into joining her for the 5K and they, of course, all wanted to go big or go home in the costume department. Thanks to Sandra, who handled insurance claims for Dr. Dean, Amber had on orange-and-white striped tights, an orange tutu, an orange T-shirt that read
Not From Concentrate
across the front, white fairy wings, and a fake diamond tiara. She didn’t know what the wings and tiara had to do with anything. Yet Sandra had insisted. The 5K had definitely given Amber new insight into Sandra, who’d turned out to be a real bruiser. Also, her outfit kept bringing to mind Frank Sinatra’s “Orange is the happiest color” quote, probably
because wearing orange for the Color the World Happy
did not
make Amber feel happy.

“Why’re you wearing all that, Mom?”

“Because we’re doing the 5K today as part of a team. The other ladies on the team wanted to dress like this.”

He pulled a face and did back-and-forth motions with his palms. “Not me, not me.”

“No, not you. You can count on your mom to spare you from a tiara and a tutu. Listen, we have a few minutes left before we need to leave. How about we go upstairs and check on Lyndie?”

“Okay.” Jayden always jumped at the chance to visit Lyndie. Lyndie had animals.

They climbed the Candy Shoppe’s exterior staircase, knocked, waited. Lyndie answered the door wearing a huge sweater, leggings, and fuzzy socks with a flower pattern on them.

“Hey there,” Amber said. “Still in your pajamas?” It was one fifteen.

“Yep.” Her hair looked crazy, and she had Mrs. Mapleton in her arms. “Hi, Jayden.”

“Hi, Ms. James. May I play with your dogs?”

“Sure. They’d love that.”

Jayden lowered onto his knees and the spaniels danced around him, thrilled to have someone small to fuss over.

“Cute costume,” Lyndie said to Amber. “Are you the tooth fairy?”

“Yes. I’m the tooth fairy.”

“I didn’t realize the tooth fairy was Not From Concentrate.” Lyndie attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite take. Sadness lurked in her eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s okay. Tell me about the costume.”

Amber, well aware that everything was not okay with her friend, followed Lyndie into the living area while explaining about the 5K. “Celia’s Uncle Danny seems to think I’ll have a shot at meeting a man there. As if! Who am I ever going to meet dressed like this?”

“The tooth fairy king?” Lyndie settled onto her sofa, pulled a throw blanket over herself, and placed Mrs. Mapleton on top.

Amber chose a pretty camel-colored chair. When she grew up, she wanted a home that looked like this one did, all serene sand and sky colors. “I got worried when I saw that you hadn’t moved your car all day, Lyndie. You usually go to church on Sundays.”

Lyndie didn’t volunteer any info.

“What’re you doing up here watching . . .” The TV screen was frozen on a shot of Keri Russell dressed in old-fashioned clothing.

“Austenland.”

“What’re you doing up here watching
Austenland
on a Sunday afternoon?”

“Jake fired me.”

Amber’s jaw sagged. “He fired you! Why?”

“Because he doesn’t want me riding Silver Leaf anymore, or any of his horses.”

“But why? You’re a great jockey.”

“Thank you, but Jake disagrees.” Lyndie pursed her lips.

“What about your dating relationship?”

“Also over.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry. Really sorry. What can I do?”

“You stopped by to see me. And you’ve been taking care of my animals for me when I’ve been up at the hospital.” Lyndie reached over to give Amber’s hand a squeeze before resettling her cat. “That’s more than enough. Thank you. Really, thank you.”

“Of course. Listen, why don’t you come to the Color the World Happy 5K with Jayden and me? It’ll be fun.” The last part, the fun part? Pure wishful thinking.

“I’ll pass,” Lyndie said.

“You, too, might meet a tooth fairy king.”

“I’m good here. I have my cat and my dogs and
Austenland
.”

“But no humans.”

“Which is all right. I need to go up to the hospital soon, anyway.”

Amber sighed. “I really thought . . . I mean, when you told me
that you and Jake were dating, I was positive that he was the one for you. Maybe there’s a chance you’ll get back together.”

Lyndie brought her hair forward over one shoulder. “He dumped me. And not in a friendly way. In the kind of way that makes me want to kill him.”

“Oh.” Amber wrinkled her forehead. “Do you want me to slash his tires or something?”

Lyndie’s mouth bowed into a weary smile. “No.”

“Good, because to be honest with you, I’d be terrified to slash Jake Porter’s tires.” Amber stood. “The least I can do is make you some coffee before I go.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m not really in the mood—”

“I’m making coffee!”

Jayden continued to play with Lyndie’s dogs while Amber quickly fixed one of their signature coffees. She set the concoction on the side table near Lyndie. “The sprinkles are in my kitchen downstairs. Do you want me to run and get them?”

“No, this is perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Amber gave her a hug. “I’ll stop by after the 5K.”

“I’ll be with Mollie at the hospital.”

“In that case”—she peeled Jayden away from the dogs—“I’ll take Felicity and Tobias for a walk. Also, I’ll leave some dinner for you in a cooler outside your door, okay? I want you to have something to eat when you get home.”

“You don’t need to—”

“I’m supplying dinner!” Amber gave Lyndie a sympathetic wave, then pulled Jayden out the door onto the upper landing.

“Can I go see my hero house?” he asked.

“Just while I pick up my purse and my car keys. Three minutes.”

He took off toward the middle of the backyard. As Amber let herself into her downstairs apartment through the back door, she caught the tail end of what sounded like knocking on her front door. Then quiet.

She felt pretty sure that had been an important knock. The
kind she wouldn’t want to miss. She rushed to the front door and threw it open.

Will McGrath had his back turned and was walking away, already halfway to the Candy Shoppe’s gate. Will!
Will
.

“Will?”

He turned, his eyes rounding a little at the sight of her outfit.

This horrible outfit. The
man of my dreams is at my door, literally knocking, and I answer wearing an orange tutu
. She walked toward him, leaving the front door open so she’d be able to hear Jayden. “I look ridiculous, I know. Jayden and I are doing a 5K today. It’s called Color the World Happy and all the participants wear colors. My team is wearing”—she gestured self-consciously to her clothing—“orange.”

He smiled, an easy smile full of amusement and kindness. Clear, warm air tinted with sunshine fell around them.

“Had you been knocking for long?” Amber asked.

“Not very long.”

“Sorry about that. I was upstairs, hanging out with my friend.”

“No problem. I’m glad you’re home.” He wore a simple gray T-shirt with jeans. His square jaw and those irresistible bedroom eyes were making her go mushy inside.

Will had come. To her house! Did she have any business at all hoping that he might—

“I was wondering if you . . .” Almost uncomfortably, he pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “If you might like to go out with me sometime.”

Happiness went off like a firecracker inside her. She beamed at him. “I’d love to.”

He looked genuinely surprised by her answer. As if he hadn’t understood the I’m-interested-in-you signals she’d been trying to give him since the day they’d met.

“I’ve been worried that I’m too old for you,” he said.

His words and the honest apology in his face melted her. Completely melted her. “You’re not. The years I’ve spent being a single mom have aged me like dog years.”

He chuckled. “I know the feeling.”

“Really,” she assured him, “I don’t mind your age a bit. I like your age.”

“I’m quite a bit older, Amber.”

“I like you just the way you are, Will.”

“I feel the exact same way about you,” he said. “I like you just the way you are.”

Mutual attraction connected them together with such force that goose bumps raced down Amber’s arms in a shimmering trail. “If you’re free, it would be great if you could come to the 5K with Jayden and me.”

“Sure. I can come if you’d like me to.”

“I’d like for you to.” She guided him through the house so that she could scoop up her purse and keys.

It looked like the Color the World Happy, which would count as the third of her three dates, was going to be a
very
happy event for her after all.

For years she’d been trying to convince herself that God really had forgiven her completely for her past mistakes. She’d had doubts and insecurities about it. But she’d also had enough faith to resist temptation and wait on God’s timing where men were concerned.

It seemed that God had forgiveness and generosity to spare. He also had a funny sense of timing. Because on the one day that she’d dressed in striped tights and a tiara, Will had shown up to tell her right to her face that he liked her just the way she was.

She probably could have floated outside to round up Jayden, purely on the strength of the delight buzzing through her. The past four years of working on her degree, concentrating on mothering, focusing on building her relationship with God had led her here.

They walked into the backyard, toward the hero house.

“Do I have to run the 5K?” Will asked.

“No.”

“Do I have to wear orange?”

“No.” She glanced sideways and up at him, her smile full of joy. “Remember? I like you just the way you are.”

Five days had passed since Jake had broken up with Lyndie. They’d been the worst five days of Jake’s life. Which was saying something.

All the light and air and warmth had been sucked out of his world. All of it—gone. Because she was gone.

Sweat ran down him in streams as he worked the seat of his rowing machine forward and backward along its track. At a time of day when most people had finished dinner and were about to turn on prime-time TV, Jake had shut himself into his loft’s exercise room. He pumped with his legs, heaving the bar toward his chest. Bent his legs. Extended the bar. Then did it all over again and again. Other than the Led Zeppelin he had playing, he could hear nothing except the machine’s rhythmic
wh-oosh wh-oosh
.

Since the day of Silver Leaf’s race, he’d been going through the motions like someone who had a body but no soul. The alarm clock still went off each morning, and he still got himself out to the barns at Whispering Creek and Lone Star. In fact, he worked almost all day long, training horses his employees could have trained in the round pen, burying himself in desk work, putting in long hours at Lone Star, overseeing the progress of his recovering horses.

He worked, and he worked out. But he couldn’t eat or sleep or think or . . . stand himself.

His T-shirt had plastered to him. His lungs were burning, his muscles were blazing, and he kept going because he actually preferred the physical agony to the agony in his head when left alone with thoughts of Lyndie.

He had horses in Florida. He could go there or he could take some Thoroughbreds to New York earlier than planned. He should leave Holley. It might do him good.

Yet he didn’t want to go any more than he wanted to stay. At least here, she was near.

A dull banging noise came from the front of his loft. Jake paused the motion of the rower, panting. More banging. He cursed and went back to rowing. Whoever it was could hang for all he cared. He wasn’t in the mood for company.

The banging didn’t stop. Finally, Jake lunged from the machine and flicked off the music. He crossed through his kitchen and living room, both mostly dark now that the sun had gone down. Irritated, he pulled open his front door.

His younger sister, Dru, stood in the hallway holding a pistol. Apparently, she’d been using the gun to do the banging.

Dru raised an eyebrow at him as she holstered the gun beneath the black jacket of her suit. “Training for the Olympics?”

“No.”

“Then why are you working out so hard? You’re already in painfully good shape, Jake. If you ask me, you could use more time watching football and eating Fritos.”

He didn’t move to let her pass. She slid by him anyway, turning on lights as she made her way to the leather chair near the sofa. She sat on the chair’s arm and studied him.