Secretly Yours: A Christian Valentine's Day Romance (Riverbend Romance Novella Book 1) (9 page)

He stepped to the side as the kids trooped back on and settled on the tall stools. The words of the song tumbled through Lindsey’s mind. Free to be loved. Free to be cherished. Free to be celebrated. Free.

Free
.

Chapter 15

Nick shut down the main auditorium lights as Jared and the teens filed for the door. The sound system had been put away. The stage cleared. Tablecloths bundled for washing. Tables and chairs loaded on carts and trundled to the storage room. The janitor would do the final cleaning tomorrow in plenty of time for the Sunday service.

The kitchen door was a rectangle of light at the back of the hall, shining like a beacon. If that light was on, Lindsey was still here.

He crossed the space and peered into the kitchen. No one, but the far door was open and a brisk breeze blew in. Several boxes stood in a line on the counter. She must be hauling things out to her car. Greg’s car? Must be.

She came in, rubbing her arms and caught sight of him standing there. She stopped, looking straight at him. They spoke at the same time.

“Lindsey, you were ama—”

“Nick, thank you.”

He tilted his head. “For what?”

“For the devotional book. For… for all the lovely gifts. For everything. You’ve been so patient with me.”

That crazy heart of his tried to escape out his throat. She knew. Of course she knew. He just hadn’t thought it would be revealed here, at eleven at night, while cleaning up behind the fundraiser. He’d envisioned something more romantic.

A man in a heavy parka clomped into the kitchen behind Lindsey. She stepped aside as he grabbed a box then turned and left.

“Greg was here?” he couldn’t help asking, despite the evidence.

She nodded. “His sister invited him. And, of course, Madison begged.”

“Of course.” He grinned. “She did well.”

“Yes. I was impressed.”

Greg came in for another box. “You gonna stand here all night or give me a hand?”

Lindsey reached for a box but Nick intercepted. As he lifted it, he whispered, “Can I take you home? I’ll help you unload later. He doesn’t have to.”

The closed look was gone from her eyes. “Sure. I’ll tell Greg. Madison is staying over at Erica’s tonight.”

Nick carried the box out to Greg’s trunk then returned with the last one. “I’ll be bringing Lindsey home in a bit,” he told the older man.

“Okay.” Greg glanced toward the open door. “What you said about God’s love. That true stuff?”

“Absolutely.”

“Huh. I’ll think on that.” Greg jerked his chin toward Nick. “Take care of her. She’s a good kid.”

“I will.” That was all the comment Greg had a right to give, no doubt. Lindsey wasn’t his daughter. And yet, hearing the words was balm for Nick’s heart. He reached out and shook Greg’s hand. “Thank you.”

Greg climbed in his car and spun out of the parking lot on bald tires.

Nick headed back to the kitchen, where Lindsey arranged a few things on the counter, no doubt making sure everything was just as she’d found it many hours before. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and glanced around then turned toward him.

He opened his arms and she walked right in, resting her face against his puffy down parka. “Tired?”

“Yes.” She let out a long breath. “I’m glad it’s over.”

“Me, too.” He steered her toward the door and flipped off the light as he passed the switch then locked the door and pulled it shut behind him. “Pastor Davis is still in there somewhere. He’ll set the alarm when he leaves.” Nick slid his arm around Lindsey.

She trembled under his touch, leaning against him as they made the way to his nearby vehicle. He tucked her into the passenger seat then rounded the car and started it.

Lindsey leaned against the headrest, her eyes shut.

Tonight wasn’t the night. He might feel the urgency of that box in his pocket and believe he’d get a positive answer, but there were ways to do things… and ways not to.

“What’re your plans for tomorrow?” He backed the car out of its stall then turned north on the highway.

“Sleep until noon.” She didn’t even open her eyes to tell him that.

Nick chuckled. “And then?”

“As little as possible. Glad I don’t have to go back to work until Monday.”

“Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow?”

She opened one eye and squinted at him. “So long as it’s not the Water Wheel.”

He couldn’t resist the poke. “But they have the best food in town.”

“Ha-ha. Also, I don’t want chicken cacciatore.”

“Noted. I’ll pick you up at six?”

“I’d like that.” She turned to look at him more fully. A parade of streetlights lit her face as they drove up Pitoni. “Nick, how did you know?”

His voice caught in his throat. “How did I know what?”

“What I needed to hear.”

“I didn’t, Lindsey.” He waited a beat. “But God did.”

She searched his face. “That’s pretty incredible.” Then she leaned back to think.

A few minutes later he pulled into the driveway behind Greg’s car. “Let me give you a hand with that stuff, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

But the trunk was empty. Greg had hauled everything inside.

~*~

Lindsey stretched her toes under the luxurious down duvet. By the daylight shining in her window, she wasn’t far off her wish to sleep until noon. She yanked her hair into a ponytail, pulled on her bathrobe, and padded out to the kitchen.

Greg looked up from the table, where he sat with a cup of coffee. “Something for you there,” he said with a poke of his chin.

A take-out container shaped like a brown lunch bag sat on the counter. She peeked in to see a lemon poppy seed cupcake and a slip of paper. A little grin toyed with the corners of her mouth as she tugged out the heart-lined note.

Dear Lindsey,

Lemons are tart, but you are sweet.

Secretly Yours.

She laughed. That Nick. Would he ever stop romancing her? She hoped not. She poured herself a coffee. “I’m going to have a bubble bath, Greg.”

He nodded. “I’ll be out for a while. My bonus came through at work. Gotta get some tires on that car.”

Lindsey stopped and looked at her stepfather. Really looked at him. “Sounds good. That will make it a lot safer for all of us.”

“Yep.” He dashed the rest of his coffee down and pushed back his chair.

She started the tub filling as she examined her closet. Going to dinner with Nick was definitely a dress-up affair.

The doorbell rang.

Who could that be? Lindsey peered out her bedroom window to see a van with Petals written across it in large flowing script. A man came up the walk with a large bouquet bundled in plastic.

Bathrobe or no bathrobe, she couldn’t let those flowers get nipped by frost.

“Lindsey Solberg?” the man asked when she opened the door.

“That’s me.” She thanked him and accepted the bouquet before opening the wrap. Whoa. A dozen pink roses mixed with white lilies? The fragrance enveloped her like a feathery kiss from Nick. She found the card.

Dear Lindsey,

Roses are red, but these are prettier. Like you.

Not-so-secretly Yours.

The rumble of the filling bathtub caught her attention as she chuckled. She ran for the bathroom and got the tap turned off before the bubbles overflowed.

Lindsey lowered herself into the steaming bubbles, the devotional book and the cupcake perched on the porcelain edge.

She’d wear the pink dress tonight. It matched the bouquet.

Chapter 16

“Thanks for the flowers, Nick.” Lindsey sat across the little table from him at Sala Punjabi, dressed in a stunning pink the exact color of those roses. It looked great on her.

He couldn’t resist teasing. “Did I give you flowers?”

“Didn’t you? Maybe I’m out to dinner with the wrong man.”

He caught her hand on the lacy white tablecloth. “You can’t be, because then I’d be here with the wrong woman.” He rubbed his thumb across her palm. “And I know for a fact that I’m here with the absolute right woman for me.”

“Is that some kind of secret?” Her blue eyes gleamed in the candlelight, capturing his.

“It’s not a secret anymore. Everything is out in the open.”

She tilted her head to one side. “Everything?”

No way was she going to rush the setup for this evening. He hadn’t reserved this table tucked inside the fireplace alcove and made all his arrangements for nothing. He grinned at her. “Sure. I’m an open book.”

“Your appetizers,” the waiter said, lowering a plate between them.

Lindsey examined the irregular golden shapes. “What are these?”

“Broccoli bajji. See the bits of green peeking through?”

“Deep fried broccoli, Indian style?”

He grinned and nudged the plate closer to her. “Basically. Try one.”

Her eyes widened as she took a bite. “Wow. Those are great.”

“I love Indian food. I’m glad you do, too.”

“It’s certainly different than what we serve at the Water Wheel.”

He held her gaze. “I try to do as I’m told. There’s no cacciatore in sight. Though that was amazing last night.” Not just the dinner itself. The whole evening. The good-night kiss.

A few minutes later the remains were whisked away and replaced with bowls of butter chicken and a basket of naan. Feasting his eyes on Lindsey was better than the food, delicious as it was. He managed to keep some small talk going as the waiter cleared the dinner plates. Nick’s heart hammered and his palms turned sweaty. No holding her hand at the moment. He wiped his on his pants under the tablecloth.

The waiter returned with two dessert dishes, each lit by a sparkler. From the corner of his eye, Nick caught the waiter’s nod and grin. The glimmer from the flame reflected off Lindsey’s eyes. Then they widened as she noticed the crowning touch.

“Nick…” she breathed.

He rounded the table and got to one knee before plucking the diamond ring from its tiny pedestal amid the rose cookies. “Lindsey, I love you. I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore. Not from you, not from anyone.” His voice caught. “Will you marry me?”

She flung herself into his arms, nearly knocking him flat to the floor. “Nick, yes!”

He braced himself with one hand then got the both of them in balance. Somehow he got to his feet with her wrapped around his neck.

A murmur of well wishes and soft applause from the wait staff faded into the distance as he gazed into Lindsey’s eyes, bright with unshed tears. “Really, Nick? You want me?”

“More than anything in the world.” He kissed her, and that took a few minutes. Then he rested his forehead against hers. “I want to spend every single day that we have on this earth cherishing you. Celebrating you. Loving you as Jesus loves the church.”

“Will you make up love songs for me and sing them by the river?”

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You might want me to pass on that. My singing is no better than my poetry.”

She sighed against his lips then kissed him again.

Nick sat and pulled her into his lap then held the ring up for inspection. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“I just want to be sure…” He hesitated. “Are you okay with me being a pastor? It’s what God’s called me to be.”

She nodded. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’m willing to learn. I loved working with the teens on the banquet.” She held out her hand, and he slipped the ring onto it.

Secretly his?

Not anymore. Now the whole world would know.

Thank You!

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Secretly Yours: A Riverbend Romance Novella 1
. I hope you enjoyed it!

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Raspberries and Vinegar: A Farm Fresh Romance 1 by Valerie Comer

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Chapter 1

Josephine Shaw gritted her teeth as she jerked the harvest-gold range forward on worn linoleum. There it was again. That incessant scratching could only be from one source. Mice. Of course the old trailer would have the despicable creatures. It’d been vacant for how long? The beam of her flashlight found half a dozen naked newborns sheltered in a nest of insulation and wood chips. A full-grown rodent shot through the gap she’d created and scuttled right over her foot. Jo gasped, nearly dropping the light as she jerked back.

Her roommate, Sierra Riehl, shrieked and danced a fierce jig designed, Jo presumed, to fend off an attacking two-inch-high army.

“Whoa! You’re going to go right through.” A distinct possibility, given the spongy feel to the old trailer’s floor.

Sierra’s gaze tried to capture every inch of space at once, but at least her feet slowed their tempo. “Th-the mouse . . .”

Jo tried to get her own heart rate under control. “Long gone.” At least, Jo would be if she were in his shoes. If mice wore shoes. Which they didn’t.

“Are you sure?”

What was she, some kind of fortuneteller? Oh, wait. There was still the nest, and somebody would have to deal with it. Didn’t look like Sierra was up for the job. Never mind, Jo could do this herself. “Um. You might not want to look.”
 

Sierra dug purple manicured fingernails into Jo’s arm, her blue eyes wide. “Why? What’s back there?”

“You don’t want to know.” Jo steered her friend into the living room, empty but for the musty shag carpet. “Just look out the window for a minute. Admire the view. Dream about all the things we’re going to do here at Green Acres. Think about the straw-bale house we’re going to build.” She pointed across the snow-flattened yellow grass to the building site. “Right over there.” Pouring the foundation couldn’t come fast enough. Even spending one night in this disgusting, moldy trailer would be more than ample. Bad enough without the mice, but
with
them?