A Mother at Heart (14 page)

“I heard you had a girls' afternoon out with her.”

Miriam glanced at him again. Again he was smiling.

“Yes. I had a nice afternoon catching up with old friends.”

“I'm glad,” he said, and Miriam wondered what he meant.

“Let's go,” Taryn said, tugging on Miriam's hand.

They walked down the aisle of the church as a threesome. But this time Miriam felt less like a stranger and more like a part of things. One of her old friends glanced up as they passed and waggled
her fingers at her. Another raised her eyebrows and winked.

Because the church was full, Jake ended up sitting directly beside Miriam, with Taryn on his lap.

Miriam tried to still the nervous thumping of her heart at his nearness. This was foolish, she rebuked herself. A person shouldn't be feeling this in church.

She pulled a Bible out of the pew and started to read it, trying to concentrate on the words. But Taryn kept chattering to her, and Miriam had to respond.

Then the minister came in, the worship service began, and Miriam felt as if all the loose pieces of her life were being shaken around.

She paid close attention to the songs, searching. It was as if she were on the edge of something important, earth-shattering—but she couldn't quite grasp it.

This was a good place to be, she thought, as she sang along with the hymns. She had missed so much by staying away from church all those years.

And yet, as the service progressed, she knew there should be more. This wasn't just a comfortable tradition that made people feel good. There was a sense of worship and awe, and Miriam knew she hadn't quite caught it yet. It gave her a sense of disappointment, and yet at the same time an eagerness to find out for herself what was missing.

It seemed as if the service was over too quickly.

She had managed not to concentrate too much on Jake. Taryn had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he had held her. Once he had laid his arm along the back of the pew behind her. It had been hard to concentrate then, but she had managed.

The organ burst into the postlude, and with a gentle sigh Miriam turned.

Jake barred her way, still holding a sleeping Taryn. “Enjoy the service?”

“Yes. I did,” she replied, returning his direct gaze.

He smiled and nodded, touching her arm lightly. “I'm so glad.”

Then Taryn woke up, someone jostled Miriam from behind, and the moment was broken.

Somehow they got separated in the flow of people leaving the sanctuary. Miriam met up with Donna and a few of her old friends. They told her where the picnic was, and when Miriam got to her car, she noted with dismay that Jake was gone. She had been kind of hoping Taryn would want a ride to the picnic in her car.

She felt a sharp stab of disappointment, then shook it off. She had just experienced a wonderful Sunday, and she was going to enjoy the church picnic, something she hadn't attended since leaving Waylen.

And she was looking forward to being with Jake, because she also knew that once they were there, he would make sure they would spend some time together.

Her heart hitched. She didn't want to think further than this afternoon. It was a special time, a gift. The future was for another day.

“Where's Miriam, Daddy?” Taryn tugged on Jake's arm. “She has to eat her pie.”

“I'm sure she's here somewhere.” Jake frowned
as he looked around. He had left right after church and had insisted Taryn come with him. She had pouted, but had given in.

“I wanna play with my friends,” Taryn announced to Jake. He nodded, then looked around for someone to visit with.

He ended up in a group of men talking about the usual topics that take up a farmer's mind—the crops, the weather, the prices of their commodities. They stood around, a short distance from the tables being set with food, their stances identical—hands in their pockets, occasional comments punctuating the conversation.

Jake could hold his own in these situations. Once he had started farming, he knew it was the only thing he wanted to do. He loved the routine of the life, the ebb and flow of the seasons. It hadn't taken him long to establish his own position in the community. He often wished he had been able to go to school, to further his knowledge, but farmers were an independent lot, intensely involved in their own operations. There was always some seminar being offered at any given time, and Jake went to each one.

“Put any canola in this year, Jake?” one of the men asked him.

“No, Andrew. I seeded the Spencer quarter to it last year. I thought I would hold off this year.”

“I heard the Spencer land is up for sale. Aren't you interested?”

Jake shrugged the comment away. “I'm stretched to the limit.”

“Aw, c'mon. I know old Fred. He's got some
stashed away, I'm sure.” Andrew nudged Jake with an elbow, his eyebrows raised lightly as if to negate Jake's comment.

“I'm not taking any chances with money that isn't mine.”

“Is it true Miriam's heading back east?” another asked him.

Jake loved this community, but privacy was a luxury not given its members.

“She has other obligations,” he said casually.

“Too bad. Didn't the two of you have something going, once upon a time?”

Jake laughed lightly. “That was a long time ago, Andrew.” For a relationship that was supposed to be a huge secret, a lot of people not only knew about it but also remembered it. Ten years later.

“Speaking of Miriam, there she is.”

Jake tried not to turn too fast. Tried to keep his heart from jumping around like a frisky calf. He managed a semblance of nonchalance by waiting and then glancing over his shoulder.

She stood in the middle of a bunch of her old friends, talking animatedly. As she spoke, she gestured with her hands, graceful movements that emphasized her delicate bone structure. She wore a loose T-shirt and full skirt in vibrant earth colors that brought out highlights in her short brown hair, and set off the peach tone of her skin.

Her beauty made his chest tighten, and he wondered again how he could think she would even be interested in him.

An errant breeze lifted a strand of her hair and
dropped it across her eyes. As she lifted her hand to brush it away, she looked up.

And straight at him.

Her gentle smile caught at him as a connection was made that excluded everyone else. There was no one around but the two of them. He saw no one but her.

We belong together, he thought, then remembered to breathe. The sound of laughter permeated the moment. Miriam's neighbor caught her arm. Andrew asked Jake another question, and the interval was swept away.

Jake felt his life shift, saw this possibility as attainable. Miriam here, with him. He knew that this moment was a hint of what could be.

He smiled as he thought of the rest of the afternoon. Taryn would be busy. Her friends would find other people to talk to. He hoped sometime, somewhere, he could get Miriam alone.

A truck pulled up, and Jake was coerced into unloading a few more tables for more food. He caught scattered glimpses of Miriam as the tables were organized—warm dishes, still-steaming plates of soft buns, bowls of colorful salads, pans of dessert.

Then, at an unseen signal, families began gathering, parents bending over to put food on their children's plates. Small hands pointing, heads shaking their emphatic “no.”

Jake looked for Taryn and then saw her. With Miriam.

He smiled, watching as Taryn made Miriam lift lids off casseroles. It wasn't difficult to tell which of
the dishes met with her favor and which didn't. Miriam patiently worked her way along the table, and once glanced up at Jake. She smiled, then looked down again.

Jake waited until the families had served their children, and took his own place in the lineup. When his plate was full, he looked about for his daughter. She and Miriam had found a place under a tree and were already starting.

Jake sauntered over, nodding his greetings to people who called out to him, but not allowing himself to get waylaid.

“We prayed already, Daddy,” Taryn said, looking up at him with cheeks already smeared with tomato sauce. “And I found s'getti.”

“I see that.” Jake pulled out his handkerchief and squatted down, trying to wipe her cheeks with one hand, balance his plate of food with the other.

“Here. I'll do that.” Miriam took the handkerchief from him and wiped the worst of the sauce off, while Taryn tried to help by licking her cheeks. “There. That looks a little better.”

She frowned at Taryn. “Are you feeling okay? You feel a bit warm.”

Taryn shook her head. “I'm not sick.”

“I didn't say you were sick, just warm. You looked flushed, too!”

“Nope, I'm good,” Taryn insisted. “I have to run races.”

“It is warm out,” Jake said, balancing his warm plate on his lap. Then with a quick glance at Miriam, bent his head.

He thanked the Lord for the beautiful day, for having Miriam and Taryn with him. He prayed for his father and his mother. Then, almost hesitantly, he prayed that Miriam would be willing to stay. That they could rediscover what they had missed all those years ago.

With a soft sigh, he looked up. Miriam was toying with her fork, pushing around some pasta, a light frown on her face.

“What's the matter, Miriam?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, then shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied. “Nothing at all.”

Jake ate slowly, surprised to find his appetite had decreased. He managed to eat it all, but by the time he was done, Taryn was restless.

“I wanna go with my friends,” she said, standing up. “I wanna go in the races.”

“You didn't finish your spaghetti,” Miriam said.

“I'm not hungry.”

“Let's go then,” Miriam said, slowly getting up.

“We'll go together.” Jake wiped his mouth, balled up the paper napkin and got up. They deposited their paper plates and plastic utensils in a garbage can and walked over to where young children were already gathering for the annual races.

Taryn pulled away from them, running over to be with her friends, leaving Jake and Miriam on the sidelines.

“I guess we'll have to cheer her on,” Miriam said, glancing up at Jake with a grin.

“She expects it.” Jake looked down at her, hoping he appeared nonchalant. She glanced up at him, then
away, biting her lip. He wondered if she felt the same way he did.

Jake felt guilty, because much as he loved his daughter, right now he didn't want to stand beside Miriam and watch Taryn race. Right now he wanted to take Miriam to someplace private, pull her into his arms…

“You have to watch me, Daddy,” Taryn called out.

Jake blinked, and shook his head to rein in his own drifting thoughts.

He looked at his daughter and couldn't help but grin. Taryn was bent over at the waist, her elbows up, fists balled at her sides, in an exaggerated runner's stance. Someone called out “Ready, set” and then “go,” and Taryn was off, legs pumping, arms swinging, her face screwed up in a tight frown.

“Pretty intense, isn't she?” Miriam said, laughing.

“She stays focused.”

Miriam nodded, crossing her arms over her stomach and shivering lightly.

“Cold?” Jake asked.

“No.”

They were silent again, watching as Taryn came walking back to them, her head hanging.

“I didn't win, Daddy,” she said with a pout. “I runned my fastest and I didn't win.”

Jake crouched down and gave her a quick hug. “That's okay. I watched you run. You went real fast. You don't have to win for it to be fun.”

But Taryn wasn't convinced by the platitudes. She stayed beside Jake and Miriam for the second race,
complaining of a headache, but by the time they announced the sack race, she was game again.

This time she won. And this time she was all smiles. She came back with a red ribbon and a huge grin on her face.

“I wonned. I wonned.” She waved the ribbon.

“Wow, that's a pretty ribbon.” Donna had come up and was now crouched beside Taryn, admiring the ribbon. She glanced up at Jake with a knowing smile. “Do you mind if I take Taryn off your hands for a while? My kids are going to get their faces painted, and then we're going to do some old-fashioned apple bobbing.”

Jake could have hugged her. “No. Not at all.”

Donna winked at Miriam, then took Taryn's hand and walked away.

Jake felt as nervous as he had on his very first date with Miriam. He didn't quite know what to say, how to go about this whole dating thing.

“So, looks like she'll be busy for a while,” he said inanely.

Miriam nodded, avoiding his gaze.

Jake tried to think of something else to say. Something that wouldn't sound fake, fatuous. Finally he decided the straightforward approach was the best.

“Let's go for a walk, Miriam. I want to talk to you.”

Miriam glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “Okay,” she said.

Jake took her arm, and studiously avoided the glances of the people close by them. They walked up the hill, through the long grass, until they came
to a quiet grove of trees. It was cooler in there, and Jake saw Miriam shiver again. He glanced over his shoulder, but they were still in plain sight, so they walked a little farther.

Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. He caught her by the arm and turned her around.

“I think we're far enough now,” he said quietly, pulling her into his arms as he leaned back against a convenient tree.

She came willingly, slipping her own arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest.

Jake sighed and pulled her close, resting his head on hers. He rubbed his cheek along its soft silkiness, over and over again.

“I love you, Miriam. You know that.”

Her only reply was a careful nod.

“So now what?”