Anna Meets Her Match (13 page)

“Sixish?”

“S-s-s—” She coughed behind her fist. “Six.” Nodding, she smiled. “In the morning?”

Delighted, he grinned and followed her around the car, telling her where to meet him in Buffalo Creek’s expansive Chataugua Park.

“Maybe we can talk after,” he suggested.

“About what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. The database, if you’ve had a chance to look it over. I’ve got an idea I’d like to run by you, too.”

“A-all right,” she said, letting herself into her car. Smiling, she started up the battered little coupe and pulled away.

Pleased, Reeves waved farewell, but as he jogged back up the steps and into the house, the hard truth of Anna’s earlier words came back to him.

The only thing I do easily is make mistakes.

Man, could he ever relate to that.

Maybe he was making a mistake right now, with her.

Or maybe it was time that he took this morning’s sermon to heart, kept his mind on the things of God and allowed the Spirit to take control, for wherever God led was the right path. Suddenly he realized that his fears, doubts, assumptions and self-protective limits were just so much minutiae that he’d allowed to crowd out the things of God. No wonder he’d lost his way!

Lead me, O Lord,
he thought,
and where You lead, I will follow. I want the kind of life that You want me to have. I won’t try to make it happen myself this time, and I won’t let the mistakes that I’ve made in the past hold me back from Your will. In Christ I am forgiven, and in Him I will do better, for myself, for Gilli. And for Anna.

The database? Anna thought. He wanted to talk about that jam-packed folder of information he’d given her? After they went running at six o’clock in the blooming morning! Anna could not believe what she’d just agreed to. She couldn’t get herself to work by eight, let alone haul her lazy behind out to a park by six a.m.!

“Say, why don’t you come for a run with me in the morning?” she mimicked, sitting at a stop sign at the intersection of Chatam Boulevard and Main. She threw up her hands. “Sure! What time?” Banging her head on the steering wheel, she groaned. “Just kill me now.”

The driver in the car behind her beeped his horn. She stomped the accelerator and winced as pain shot through her foot. That, she suspected, would soon be nothing by comparison. In the morning when she collapsed in an aching heap on the ground, Reeves would be all too aware that she was not who he evidently thought her to be.

She was nothing like him. Not only was she no spiritual giant, she couldn’t run a business, couldn’t run a relationship, couldn’t run her own life, couldn’t run, period. Maybe she could identify with Gilli, but that just made her the equivalent of a three-year-old! If she had a real brain in her head, she’d feign illness and beg off their running date before bedtime. Instead, she changed her clothes and went to buy running shoes. Then, in order to stay out of Tansy’s way, she took the “dossier” to the coffee house and went through it line by line, cramming as if Reeves was going to give her an oral exam on the morrow.

Hours later, her brain clogged with data, Anna treated
herself to a hearty dinner. Afterward she went straight home to bed, where she replayed over and over everything that had been said, done and read throughout the entire day, from standing before her mirror that morning until she’d crawled between the sheets. Oddly, the thing that she kept circling back around to was that morning’s sermon.

“The work of Christ on the cross set us free from the law of sin and death,” the pastor had said. “That law demands sacrifice for sin, and should we die in our sin, without the cleansing of sacrifice, the law condemns us to true death, an eternity separated from God.”

Jesus had made Himself the sacrifice, the pastor had explained. Perfect and without sin, He sacrificed His earthly body and life, once and for all, rising again to ascend into heaven and His rightful place.

“Do you want life?” the preacher had asked. “Accept the Lord’s sacrifice.”

That part Anna understood, but she’d never thought about what the preacher had said later.

“Fix your mind on Christ Jesus and keep it there. Learn everything He has to teach you through His word. Dwell in His Spirit so that when difficult times come you have the strength and the certainty to face them.”

She remembered Reeves saying that he didn’t always know how to let go of whatever was cutting him up. He’d termed it as not being yielded to the Holy Spirit. She wondered just what he meant by that. Did it have to do with fixing one’s mind on Jesus?

She lay upon her bed and prayed as she had never prayed before, almost as if in conversation with her Lord. Her last thought as she finally slid into unconsciousness was that for the first time she didn’t feel alone.

The alarm started going off at five. At half past, Anna finally hauled herself out of bed. After scrambling into her
running gear, she hurried out to the car. Ten minutes later she stood within the inky shade of an immense hickory tree and watched Reeves stretch beneath the watery light of a vapor lamp perched high atop a pole beside a bench. The jogging track snaked through the trees and over the bridge that crossed the rambling creek that gave the town its name. He was already sweaty, his caramel-streaked nut brown hair darkened by perspiration, which meant that he’d been running for some time before she’d even gotten there.

“Oh, you are so out of your league,” she told herself. “You’re going to wind up in the emergency room.” She wondered how many coronaries this track produced every year and deemed it a good thing that the hospital had been built nearby. Reeves straightened and waved. It was too late to rethink, so she picked up her feet, joining him just heartbeats later.

“Good morning,” he called as she drew near.

“Morning.”

A fellow with a big belly huffed by them. Obviously, she wasn’t the only one out here freezing her toes off and courting a heart attack.

“Cold?” Reeves asked, and just the word spoken aloud made her shudder.

“Uh-huh.”

“Let’s get you warmed up then.” He led her over to the bench. “Have you done this before?”

“Sure. About a decade ago in gym class. Whenever I couldn’t get out of it.”

Reeves chuckled. “Put your foot up on the seat and lean forward, keeping everything else straight.”

She did as instructed. “Like this?”

“Looks right.” He went down on his haunches and squeezed her calf. She nearly jumped over the bench. “Again,” he ordered.

Her face flaming, she did as told until he decided that
she’d properly loosened up her muscles. Surprisingly, she already felt warmer.

“Now what?”

“Now we walk,” he answered, nodding toward the narrow track.

Anna brightened immediately. Walking she could manage.

The track was just wide enough for them to walk side by side, their shoulders occasionally touching. He asked how her evening had gone. She shrugged and said that she’d spent it at the coffee shop then blathered on about how it was one of her favorite places and what her favorite drinks were and her favorite muffins, even her favorite barista, for pity’s sake.

“She can make a perfect flower right in the center of the cup with the cream. Says she learned it in Seattle.”

“Imagine that,” Reeves replied with a grin. “Let’s pick up the pace a bit.”

Two minutes later, they were jogging and five minutes after that running. Reeves had the most fluid gait. It was impossible to stay even with their arms pumping in time to their strides, so she naturally fell back a bit, all the better to enjoy the show. The man’s head stayed level while he ran, his long paces steady and gliding. She tried to match him stride for stride and found, to her surprise, that she could manage. For a time. And then she couldn’t. Suddenly, without warning, she could no longer keep up. Just a minute or so later, she could no longer even breathe.

He seemed to know and slowed, but for Anna nothing would do but a full stop. Bending at the waist, she gasped for air. He jogged back to her and pulled her up straight, propelling her along the track again, this time at a walk.

“Come on. Walk it out. Otherwise you’re going to hurt.”

“As. Opposed. To. What?” she gasped out.

“As opposed to just being sore,” he told her with a chuckle, slowing the pace.

After a while, she could breathe again. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” she told him, shaking her head.

“Ah, you’re a natural,” he refuted with a smile. “Take it from me. You just need a bit of conditioning. It would be nice to have a running buddy.”

She groaned, but inside she was doing backflips. She was a natural at something? And they were going to be running buddies! Maybe. Why couldn’t they have done this in high school? If he had shown just the least bit of interest in her back then she might have scrapped her rebellious habits just to please him. Then she might not have blown her chances at college by skipping senior finals week and settling for a D average.

Water under the bridge, she told herself. Sadly, it was too late for all that. Her life had been set in stone long ago.

He put her through the stretches again, and this time she watched as he did them and tried to copy his posture. Finally, she collapsed upon the bench. Reeves reached beneath a towel on the ground and brought up two bottles of water. He tossed her one, and she broke the seal, drinking greedily.

“Thanks.”

“Yep.”

They sat and slowly emptied the bottles, watching the sun come up and day gradually take over. Reeves hooked his elbows over the edge of the bench.

“I’ve had this idea I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Oh? Something you didn’t think to put in that portfolio?”

“Yeah.” He waved a hand. “Just an idea. The only way I can think of to describe it is as a book without words.”

“Come again?”

“You know, for toddlers, little kids like Gilli. I mean, they can’t read, right? And I got to thinking about how you take a picture and make up a story about it.”

“Well, that’s just because of how I draw,” she said dismissively. “Every time I lay down a sketch, I’m basically drawing a story in my head. Hmm.” She bit her lip, thinking about that. “Actually, I have wondered what stories other people might dream up around one of my drawings.”

“There. You see? It fits. What if you could come up with a series of drawings that suggest a story.”

“But don’t dictate it,” she muttered to herself, envisioning a series of panels based on the skating ballerina concept.

“I’m sure there are parents who lack the imagination to utilize something like that,” he admitted, “but—”

“Not many kids,” she stated, feeling her excitement build.

“I knew I was onto something,” Reeves declared. He stood then looked down at her. “Shall we talk this out over breakfast?”

She nodded eagerly, aware that a hole had opened in the bottom of her stomach during the past few minutes. She popped up with more energy than she’d expected to find. “Where do you want to go?”

He considered. “What time do you have to be at work?”

Work! She grabbed his arm and twisted it until she could read his watch. That could
not
be the time!

“Beans!” She lurched away, crying, “I’m going to be late!”

He put his hands to his waist, calling, “I guess that means breakfast is off?”

“Breakfast, lunch, maybe even dinner if I can’t shower in five minutes flat!” she yelled.

She drove off and left him there, shaking his head. Dennis was not going to be a happy camper if she was late again. Depressing the accelerator, she took a deep breath.

“Fix your mind on Jesus,” she whispered. “Fix your mind on Jesus.”

R
eeves came in whistling that evening. The quartet of vehicles all but blocking the drive at the front of the house told him that the aunties were holding another of their meetings. They had clearly shifted into high gear with their plans for the fund-raiser. The place was like Grand Central Station. He’d run into one committee after another last week, and this week he expected it to be a daily occurrence, but today he didn’t mind.

Gilli came through the side door just as he climbed out of the car and greeted him with a cheery, “Hi, Daddy!”

When he held out his arms, she literally leaped off the top step into them and gave him a noisy kiss. How wonderful it was to be loved by his baby girl! Hugging her close, he asked, “How’s my sugar?”

“Goody good.”

“Where’s Special?”

“Getting her milk.”

“I thought the vet said to go easy on the milk.”

“But she already had ’nuff cans. Chester said she couldn’t have no more.”

“I see.” As he carried Gilli into the house and set her on
her feet, he asked just how many cans of cat food she had served Special that day. She’d already proved that she could open the small pull-top tins with surprising ease.

Gilli shrugged evasively. “I dunno.”

Reeves frowned. Wasn’t a child who could learn to skate old enough to know better than to go into the pantry and help herself to all the cat food her schizophrenic pet wanted? “Do you remember how many the animal doctor said Special could have in a day?” Reeves asked, going down on his haunches to bring their faces level. Gilli just looked at him. He held up three fingers. “This many.”

“Three,” Gilli said, “like me.”

Three. Old enough to be lonely without her daddy, not so old when indulging her first pet. “So how many did you give Special today?”

She held up four fingers, then five. When she got to six, she shrugged again and tucked her hands behind her. Reeves suppressed a sigh. A girl with a mommy-in-name-only could be forgiven for showering too much attention on a devoted animal. Still, there were boundaries. “From now on,” he instructed, “you feed Special only what an adult gives you for her. Him.”

Gilli nodded.

“The proper response is, ‘Yes, sir,’” he coached.

“Yezer.”

As she ran off to make sure Special had lapped up her—his!—fill of milk, Reeves made a mental note to tell Hilda to move all cat food to the top shelf of the pantry. Best make sure the milk was out of reach, too. Call it preventive parenting.

Making his way to the cloakroom, he hung up his coat before heading for the stairs. He wasn’t the least surprised to find Tansy Burdett in the foyer. Naturally, he assumed that she served on one or more of his aunts’ committees, but he also knew that she’d want to pump him for information about
Anna, information that he was determined not to give her. Nevertheless, he smiled congenially as he started up the steps.

“Hello, Mrs. Burdett. When you see my aunts will you tell them I’ve gone up to change please?”

Behind him, she said, “You took my granddaughter to church.”

Reeves paused, telling himself not to respond, but then he turned to look down at her. “I did not. She took herself to church.”

“You had something to do with it,” Tansy insisted.

“I merely asked her why she didn’t attend worship.”

“And what did she say?”

He considered telling Tansy that she was the reason Anna had foregone worship, but he said instead, “What’s important is that Anna decided to do the right, best thing.”

The skepticism in Tansy’s expression offended him on Anna’s behalf. “But you brought her here to lunch afterward,” Tansy insisted, as if she could not bear to give her granddaughter the benefit of the doubt. “And you were also seen jogging in the park together this morning.”

“So? What of it?”

“So it seems to me that you are not as uninterested in my granddaughter as you first claimed.”

Irritated, Reeves managed to speak calmly. “My interest in your granddaughter, or lack of it, is really none of your business.” Turning, he stepped upward.

“I’ll make it worth your while to marry her.”

Reeves froze, wondering if he could possibly have heard Tansy correctly. Slowly he turned, his head tilting to one side. “Did you just try to bribe me to marry your granddaughter?”

Tansy looked him square in the eye. “Everyone thinks the Chatams are made of money, and they are. But you’re a Leland, and there isn’t enough money to go around in that branch.”

Reeves glared at her until he was sure he had his temper under control. “I earn a comfortable living, thank you very much, and even if I didn’t, no one marries for money in this day and age.”

“Unless I miss my guess, the first Mrs. Leland did,” Tansy said smugly.

That stung, but he couldn’t argue with it. Besides, that was not important. Didn’t she realize that something like this could only hurt Anna? He stepped back down to the foyer floor and demanded, “Why are you doing this?”

Tansy’s face set in lines as hard as those of her too-yellow hair. “I want my granddaughter happily married. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s her life. That’s what’s wrong with that.”

Tansy’s nose wrinkled in a sneer. “I’ve seen what she’s done with her life. Trapped in a dead-end job, living in a dingy, depressing apartment too small to turn around in, no real friends, a date once in a blue moon. The one saving grace is that she hasn’t tried to drown herself in alcohol or snort her problems up her nose the way her parents did.”

“I don’t call that a small thing,” Reeves stated flatly, “and neither is your interference in Anna’s life.”

Tansy lifted her chin, shoulders squared like a general. “Someone has to do something, and I know what’s best for my granddaughter. She needs a husband. You seem to have a beneficial influence on her, and she always did have a crush on you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You really don’t know?” Tansy chuckled. “I thought you were smarter than that. When she was a teenager I used to find sheets of torn notebook paper in her trash can.” She mimicked handwriting. “Mrs. Reeves Leland. Anna Leland. Reeves and Anna Leland.”

Reeves must have gaped at her for a full minute. Anna had had a crush on him in high school? That’s what all that
torment was about? Surely not. But what if that had been the case? How mortified would Anna be after keeping that secret all these years? He went straight from shock to outrage in three seconds flat. “How dare you reveal such a thing? Have you no respect for your granddaughter?”

“I thought you knew. Besides, what does it hurt? The truth is the truth.”

“If it’s true, then it’s Anna’s truth,” he insisted. “She’s entitled to decide if and when she reveals her secrets. In fact, she’s entitled to make her own decisions about everything, period. To make such a revelation to further your own cause is cold and heartless.”

Tansy jerked as if he’d struck her, bawling, “I’m not heartless. I only want what’s best for my granddaughter!”

“You want what
you
want,” he rebutted, his voice rising, “to the point of trying bribery! That’s not just selfish, it’s sick!” The sudden appearance of the aunties in the foyer was enough to forestall further explosion, but Reeves wasn’t about to back down.

Tansy stood with military stoicism, shoulders back, chin up. “I know my granddaughter,” she declared defensively.

“You know nothing about Anna,” he told her. “You say I’ve been a ‘beneficial influence’ on her, but it’s actually the other way around. Anna’s the one who’s had a ‘beneficial influence,’ on me.”

“I certainly see no evidence of it,” Tansy snapped. The aunties gasped. Tansy’s chin ratcheted up another inch or so.

“Then I’m sure you want better for Anna than me,” Reeves said evenly. “Anna certainly deserves better.”

“I’m more concerned with what she needs, and I’ll do what I have to do to see that she gets it,” Tansy vowed. With that, she executed a neat about-face and marched into the parlor. Casting worried, apologetic glances behind them, Magnolia and Odelia hurried after her.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Hypatia said to Reeves, rushing
forward. “We had no idea what she was up to when she left the room, but it’s all our fault, just the same. If we hadn’t planted that ridiculous notion about you and Anna in her head…”

Anna Leland. Anna and Reeves Leland.

In some ways it felt as if his world had turned upside down. And in some ways it felt as if it had been turned right side up!

Hypatia wrung her hands. “Oh, poor Anna. I’m afraid we’ve set Tansy off on a new tangent. We have to fix this. Is it possible, do you think, to convince Tansy that this scheme of hers is hopeless?”

Reeves shook his head, still reeling. “I don’t know.”

“We have to try. We started this. We have to stop it. Don’t you think so?”

“I—I’m not sure,” Reeves admitted, barely attending. Had Tansy always been this controlling? Yes, of course, she had. In fact, she’d probably been worse. No wonder Anna had left home at the first opportunity.

“What if we got everyone together and hashed this out?” Hypatia was saying. “All of us together, we might make Tansy see reason, don’t you think? It might nip Tansy’s meddling in the bud. At the very least, Anna would know that she has support. It would need much prayer to work, of course. Much prayer.”

Prayer. Reeves nodded absently, wearied by the weight of his anger at Tansy and a growing sense of all-too-familiar guilt.

Mrs. Reeves Leland. Anna Leland. Anna and Reeves Leland.

She had liked him. Liked him. And he’d assumed the very opposite.

Hadn’t it been the same with Gilli? Every time she’d misbehaved, he’d assumed on some level that she hated him for letting her mommy leave, and all along she’d been doing ev
erything in her power to grab his attention and hold it. He hadn’t seen it until the bees had driven Nanny away and brought them here to Chatam House where they’d met Anna. Anna, who had taught him so much about his daughter—and himself. Anna whom he had treated so disdainfully in the past.

“Should I do it then?” Hypatia’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked down at her blankly.

“Uh, whatever you think best.”

She bit her lip and nodded as if still uncertain. Not really cognizant of Hypatia’s concerns, Reeves let it go. Who could be more competent than Aunt Hypatia, after all? As he mounted the stairs once more, his thoughts sought heavenly counsel.

Father in heaven, I’ve been such a lunkhead. All those years that I judged Anna’s behavior so harshly, when I had no idea what she was dealing with, no understanding of her at all, when a kind word from me might have made a difference, a ride in my car in the rain, a friendly gesture, a smile of acknowledgment…But I did none of those things. And after all of that, she still found it within her heart to take my little girl under her wing, to reach out to me in friendship and honesty. What a fool I have been.

God forgive him.

And Anna, too. If she could.

“And how are you this afternoon?” The voice of Reeves Leland traveled over the telephone line, through the receiver, into her ear and across her every nerve ending with a rush of heat.

Anna turned her back to the workroom and kept her voice low. With Dennis on the rampage again, it wouldn’t do to get caught mooning over a caller.

“In hot water,” she muttered.

“You’re not talking about soaking away your muscle aches, I assume.”

Every muscle in Anna’s body had screamed when she’d crawled into the tub last night, but this morning she’d only felt a few twinges as she’d showered, dressed and headed out. She should have made it to work with minutes to spare, but no. She had to get stuck at one of the town’s many railroad crossings by the longest train in history. Did that matter to Dennis, though? Not one bit.

“I feel fine. It’s a work thing.”

“I hope it’s not this call. Some workplaces have a rule about personal calls, I know, but I tried to call you at home last night only your number’s unlisted.”

Personal calls. She had to quip around her heart, which had leaped up into her throat. “Yeah, I know. It infuriates Tansy that she has to stop by to harangue me.”

He did not laugh, not even a chuckle. “I’ll keep it brief,” he said after a pause. “Are you up for a run tomorrow morning?”

Anna put her hand over her mouth to hide her pleased smile, but then she deflated. If she was late for work one more time, Dennis would can her for sure, especially with the BCBC job winding down. Should she risk it?

Reeves went on in a coaxing voice. “I was out there all by myself today. Not nearly so much fun without a buddy.”

Anna grit her teeth to keep from saying yes. Maybe if they started a little earlier…Right. Like she could manage that. It took a good half hour to get her brain started in the morning.

“Oh, man. I just don’t think I can do it.”

For several seconds Reeves said nothing then, “Anna, if I’ve done anything, recently or in the past—”

“What? No, no, no.” She hated to tell him that she couldn’t trust herself to get to work on time. If she were more conscientious or more mature or just more of a morning person, she’d be able to manage an early run, but right now, having been late twice in a row, it was just asking for trouble. “This
is on me. I’m just not, you know, cut out for early morning activity.” She thought of Gilli and added, “But you, now, you need your evenings free for your daughter.”

Maybe, she thought, when Dennis got off the warpath she could try again. She’d just tell Reeves that she’d changed her mind and decided that she needed to get into shape. Right then she made a plan. Starting tonight she was going to go to bed and get up an hour earlier every day, and just to be on the safe side, she’d set the clocks in the apartment forward by fifteen minutes, too. She’d train herself to get up earlier and be out on that jogging trail in a couple weeks.

“Maybe I can call you sometime anyway,” Reeves said after a bit. “Just to hear an adult voice, you know? I mean, it won’t be long now before we’ll be back in our own place, just the two of us, Gilli and me.”