Hearts Crossing (Woodland) (11 page)

Looking at him this way left Daveny with the strangest feeling that those were emotions he didn't allow himself to feel, or reveal, very often.

If ever there was someone in need of God's loving embrace, and a renewed faith, Collin, it's you.

I don't know all the details. I don't
need
to know all the details yet. I simply need to reach out to a questing soul and maybe help you find your way back home.

The words seeped into Daveny's mind as though spoken aloud and directly.

Will of God?
A purpose?

Her teeth sank gently into her lower lip when she found herself lost within his eyes and saturated by the pleasure she felt in simply being near him.

Collin called to a longing in her heart; he elicited patterns in Daveny's soul that left her yearning and wistful. She wanted a man like Collin Edwards in her life. She craved his intimacy, a connection both physical and emotional.

In that moment she leaned close once more, the space between them closing slowly but surely; at the last second Daveny blinked and took a deep breath—trembling.

“I want you to know something,” she said. “It’s OK if you don’t open up to me today or in a week or even a month. I just hope you do so at some point. I’d feel honored by that degree of trust and faith. ’Til then, I promise I won't push. The ball is in your court, OK?”

Something about the statement left his eyes seeming haunted.

But he nodded—and that was enough. For now.

They resumed their task, and Daveny mulled over the circumstances.

Sandy was a member of the media. As such, Daveny could probably perform an Internet search and gain some unobtrusive history simply by virtue of her stature. Something in her arrival and the currents she stirred piqued Daveny's curiosity.

11

Tuesday morning dawned with sunshine, sweet air, and soft breezes. Collin carried his golf clubs out of the garage, settling them next to his truck.

C'mon, Edwards. This is no big deal. Explain everything to Daveny. Move forward. Move forward or you'll regret it.

That truth didn't make his present reality any easier. Sandy's reemergence gave Collin much to think about—not because of harbored feelings, but because the situation treaded fine lines both in his relationship with Daveny and the very real, very passionate feelings he maintained about his faith life.

Bottom line? Big deal or no big deal, Daveny Montgomery infiltrated a part of his heart he had deliberately and resolutely nailed shut. Something about her compelled Collin toward the truth, and into a more objective, distanced view of the guilt and shame he still had difficulty releasing.

“Hello, Collin.”

A beat of silence passed as Collin absorbed the greeting of a familiar female voice.

Well,
he thought wryly,
she hasn't forgotten the way to my condo.

“Hi, Sandy. How are you?”

His tentative greeting faded to nature noise, billowing breezes and more distant traffic sounds. Collin hoisted and stored his clubs, closing the back latch of his truck. Then he turned to face the inevitable.

“I'm OK,” she replied. “I saw you the other day and wanted to say hello, but—”

“Yeah, I saw you and your crew from WWJ.”

“But you didn't stop by either.”

Her eyes teased, but he read between the lines.
We saw each other and practiced avoidance.

“I didn't want to get in the way,” he said, extricating himself as best he could.

She offered a shrug and a gracious degree of understanding. Pulling a hair tie from her pocket, she threaded fiery hued curls into a ponytail. “I'm glad to see you helping out. It's actually why I'm here.”

“Oh?”

“Can you spare a few minutes to talk before pulling out?”

Briefly she glanced at the golf clubs. Due to finals scheduling, Collin didn't have to report to school until after lunch so he was on his way to a morning session at the driving range with Marty and Jeremy.

“I've got a few minutes before I have to leave. Come on back and I'll get us some lemonade.”

Collin led her to the backyard patio and extended the table umbrella to afford them a bit of shade.

“I'm actually here in an official capacity, in case you're worried,” she informed.

About to walk inside, Collin turned and met her gaze squarely. “I'm not worried, Sandy. You and I have been through more than enough. We don't have anything between us that should cause any more worry or pain. Right?”

All she did was nod.

Minutes later they sat comfortably, sipping the iced, sweet beverage. “Daveny tells me you and your family have been active supporters of the beautification.”

Hooked into church, back where he had started and ended. The panic inside Collin began to swell. On the heels of his conversation with Pastor Ken at the picnic, then Daveny thereafter, this meeting with Sandy hit on a number of nerves.

“I don't know, Sandy. I mean, my mom and dad, Marty and JB, they're a lot more involved in the activities at Woodland than me. They know more about—”

“But I'd like to talk to
you
.”

The interruption was quietly firm—gentle, but insistent. Rife with double meaning.

Temporarily delaying plans to practice his golf swing, Collin settled back and nodded in invitation.

“You've changed,” she observed. “You've started to reemerge. Finally.”

The last part sounded a bit like a dig—until he looked into her vulnerable eyes.

Make it right,
came an instinctive prompting, a voice from within.

“The project has helped.”

“Church helped, or the renovations helped?”

“One step at a time,” he answered, offering an intent look. “I still haven’t braved services; I’m just not
there
yet.” Discomfort prompted him to shift topics. “The exposure you're going to give the church through Community Spotlight is a huge benefit. Thank you for that.”

“It's my church, too,” she replied simply.

“It hasn't been my church in a long time; coming back though, even as a grounds worker, somehow feels like a homecoming. I never expected that. The prodigal, I suppose.”

She thought about that for a moment, and then admitted in a torn voice, “I miss you, Collin.”

He kept quiet at that comment but watched her steadily.
Make it right...

“I didn't want to leave,” she continued, “but—”

“But I didn't give you much of a choice did I?”

To that, she didn't reply. “Seeing you at Woodland the other day, remembering the plans we made, it brought back a lot of happy memories I have of you.” She shrugged lightly. “Of the two of us. And there were a lot of them. I may have tried to forget, but that doesn't change the truth.”

“There were a lot of good things we gave each other, Sandy. I wouldn't be who I am without what you brought to my life. I haven't forgotten that, and I never will.”

“But?”

“
But.
”
Collin regarded her steadily; the image of Daveny danced against the edges of his mind, settled richly into his soul.

Sandy finished her lemonade and stood to leave. “I'm glad I stopped by. Hope you don't mind. I had to at least...at least talk to you.”

She started to turn, not quite meeting Collin's eyes; he couldn't allow the retreat. Not on those terms. Gently he took hold of her hand until their eyes met.

Collin gave her a smile that came right from his heart. “Thanks, Sandy. You're a special lady.”

Her eyes filled, but she smiled back. “That road goes both ways, Collin. I think I'll give your mom a call and see if she's game for a radio interview.”

“Knowing Mom, she'll be thrilled.”

“See you.”

He nodded, watching her leave. In doing so, the oddest thing happened. He bid an internal farewell to sores that had truly healed and were returning to normalcy as the result of nothing more than acceptance and the power of loving care.

The realization left Collin straightening, staring straight ahead as he realized what else needed to be done.

Promptly.

12

Tuesday afternoon Daveny sat in her office. Stewing.

Curiosity about Sandy Pierson dominated her thoughts and overrode restraint. Compelled by the need to know more about her, Daveny hesitantly logged onto Google. Within the search engine, she typed Sandy's name and slowly clicked her way forward.

Kiara entered Daveny's office with her typical burst of energy and chic verve.

Daveny grinned at her. “Have you recovered yet?” she asked, discreetly checking the results on her screen. There were a number of entries, thanks to Sandy’s stature as a member of the media.

Putting on a pout, Kiara held up her hands so Daveny could see her fingernails. Sure enough. Two of them were now shorter than the rest. “Oh, what I sacrifice for my job!”

Her theatrical moanings caused Daveny to laugh. “Don't be such a sissy. Take it like a woman.”

“Uh-huh.” Kiara settled into the chair before Daveny's desk.

“And remember, the help you've provided is for the greater good.”

“Uh-huh, part two.”

They shared a laugh, and then surprisingly, Kiara went shy. She studied her hands. “Actually I don't mind the battered nails much. Besides, I think Pastor Ken is incredible, Dav. I got to spend some time talking to him during the picnic, and I have to say, he hardly seems like a stodgy, stern man of the cloth type guy. I like his attitude.” Daveny ignored incoming search results and focused instead on her colleague. There was a thread of irrefutable longing in Kiara's tone that left Daveny plagued by sadness. Kiara was a fantastic individual, inside and out.

“But, typical to the story of my life, the third finger of the left hand is a dead giveaway. Story of
my
life—the good ones are always taken. Like, say, Collin for example. He's hooked on you, Dav.”

That comment snapped Daveny free of introspection. Another of Kiara’s formidable talents? Expert table turning.

“Some day,” she concluded quietly, “I want a man to look at me the way Collin looks at you.”

“Honey, they
do
look at you that way.”

An unexpected degree of melancholy crossed Kiara’s features. “Maybe, but not for the same reason.”