In Firefly Valley (28 page)

Trust him. If only she could.

I
n case you haven't figured it out, I'm wooing you.”

Marisa caught herself just as her foot started to tangle in a tree root. If there were a more unusual setting for a declaration of courtship, she didn't know what it would be. No moonlight and roses, not even a romantic table for two. Instead, she and Blake were hiking in a small forest. The scent of cedar mingled with the dusty smell of dried leaves underfoot, while the less pleasant aroma of a skunk lingered in the air. They were walking side by side, and they'd been chatting until he startled her with his unexpected words. There was nothing passionate about Blake's declaration. It was a simple statement of fact.

Marisa decided to respond in kind. “That's what Lauren said.” Fortunately, her voice remained even, not betraying the sudden acceleration of her pulse. “Of course, Lauren has love and marriage on her mind.”

She might claim otherwise, but Marisa was certain Lauren hoped Drew would repeat his offer of marriage. If he did, Lauren's answer would be very different from the first time.

Grabbing the branch blocking the path, Blake held it aside so Marisa could pass by. “I can't believe the change in Drew,” he said when they resumed their previous pace. “He looks the same, but
his behavior is so different that if it weren't for the physical proof, I wouldn't recognize him as the man I knew at Stanford.”

The day Fiona had been released from traction, Lauren and Drew had taken her to a movie and had invited Marisa and Blake to join them. It had been the first time Marisa had seen the two men together since Kate and Greg's wedding, and she'd found the contrast between them intriguing. On the surface, Drew appeared more gregarious, and it was obvious that he doted on Fiona, but Marisa still worried that he would become bored with Dupree and leave Lauren with a broken heart.

“Do you really believe Drew has changed?” Lauren said he wasn't the same man he'd been last spring, but Lauren was looking at Drew through the eyes of love, and they were as unreliable as rose-tinted glasses.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in Blake's response. “He's kinder. I'd even go so far as to say that he's a better person than he used to be.”

“I hope so for Lauren's sake, but I'm not convinced that people can change. Not fundamentally.” Marisa had heard Eric's protestations that he would change, that this time would be different, too many times to believe they were more than empty words. Though he seemed different since he'd returned, more like the daddy she remembered from her earliest childhood, she was afraid it would not last.

“Why not?” Blake stopped to flip open his water bottle and take a long swig. They'd been walking for close to an hour on what he'd told Marisa would be a three hour round-trip hike.

“I've changed,” he said, “and it's not simply the direction of my writing. Your questions made me look at my whole life differently.”

“Are you saying that I was responsible for the change?” Marisa couldn't believe that. She'd begged and begged Eric to stop drinking, but no matter how she pleaded, it had never been enough.

“No.” Blake shook his head. “No one can change another person. That's up to the individual and God. But you pointed me in the right direction.” And unlike Eric, Blake had listened to Marisa.

“Is that why you're wooing me?” She tried not to giggle at the word.
Wooing and courtship sounded like terms from a historical romance novel, not a conversation taking place in the twenty-first century.

“No. I'm grateful for that, and I'd even call you my muse, but that's not a reason for wooing or courtship or any of those old-fashioned words.”

Marisa smiled at the realization that Blake shared her opinion, at least on that particular terminology. He stopped and faced her, his expression solemn.

“The fact is, I'm attracted to you. Not just your beautiful face, but what's inside you. I'm attracted to the woman who goes out of her way to make a little girl feel like a princess. I'm attracted to the woman who'd endure sleepless nights and countless pinpricks so that her friend could have special tablecloths. I'm even attracted to the woman who was willing to wear a silly costume to entertain less fortunate families and help make their Thanksgiving a memorable one.”

They were beautiful words, wonderful words, words that made Marisa want to shout with joy.

Blake stretched his hand out and clasped hers. “You're a very special woman, Marisa. I felt that the first time I saw you. That's why I want to spend more time with you, so we can learn whether we have a future together. That's why I'm trying to woo you.”

As he'd spoken, a lump had risen to fill Marisa's throat. No one had ever said such things to her. They made her feel as if she, not Fiona, was the princess. Marisa had given Fiona a sparkly tiara to wear while she was lying in bed, but Blake had given Marisa a priceless crown of heartfelt words.

“I wish I were as eloquent as you,” she said, swallowing to dislodge the lump. They had resumed walking side by side, their pace a bit slower than before, as if neither one was in a hurry to reach the summit of the small hill that Blake had said was their destination. “I'm not a wordsmith like you. I make my living with numbers, and numbers aren't a lot of good where feelings are concerned.”

“What do your feelings tell you?”

That
there's something incredibly wonderful about being here, my hand in yours. That I'm beginning to understand the adage
that it's the journey that's important, not the final destination. That I wish this day would never end
.
But Marisa said none of those things. Instead she gave Blake's hand a little squeeze and said, “That I like you very much and that I want to spend more time with you.”

Perhaps she should have stopped there, but she'd been raised to be honest, and so she continued. “I have to warn you, though. I'm not the wonderful person you described. Deep inside, I'm scared.” Marisa paused, not wanting to say anything more but knowing that she owed him a full explanation. “I'm afraid of being hurt the way my mother was.”

Blake nodded as if he understood. “I'm not an alcoholic, Marisa.”

“Eric wasn't either at the beginning.”

“If we get to the point of marriage—and I hope we will—I promise you that I will never abandon you.”

And that was the crux of her fear. The first therapist she'd seen had told Marisa that her fundamental fear was of abandonment and that until she overcame that, she'd be unable to form a lasting relationship. Colleen had agreed and had insisted that Marisa's problems with anger were the result of those fears. “You can't solve one without solving the other,” Colleen had said.

“I want to believe you. I do.” Perhaps that was why Marisa was clinging to Blake's hand right now.

“That's what courtship is all about.” He stopped, disengaging his hand from hers, and turned so he was facing her. “It's a chance for us to learn about each other, to learn to trust.” As the corners of his lips curved into a smile, he added, “A chance for a few other things too.”

Slowly, as if he were approaching a skittish animal, Blake raised his hand to touch Marisa's cheek. For a long moment, he said nothing, simply smiled as he caressed her skin. Then his fingers wandered to trace the outline of her lips. It was less intimate than
a kiss, and yet the touch of his fingertips sent the same shivers of pleasure through Marisa that his kisses had. She gazed at him, wondering if he would kiss her. Instead, he began to speak.

“I probably shouldn't admit this.” He gave her an almost sheepish look. “It's not exactly a macho thing to say, but this is scary for me too. I'm thirty-two years old, and this is my first experience with love. Growing up in an all-male household, I didn't have a good role model for love.”

Marisa nodded, remembering Blake's stories of his grandfather's unreasonable demands.

“I dated a bit in high school and college,” Blake continued, “but it was never serious. Then, once I was on my own, I met a woman I thought might be the one.” He shook his head. “She wasn't. Neither was the second one. Afterwards I realized that what I'd felt for them had been attraction, not love.”

Blake's expression softened as he cupped Marisa's chin. “It's different this time. I don't know where we're headed, but I do believe that God brought our paths together for a reason.”

She wanted to believe it. Oh, how she wanted to believe it. Marisa managed a small smile. “I thought you were special the day we met, and that scared me. I'm still scared now.”

His hand moved, gliding gently along her neck. “Don't be scared. I love you, Marisa. Let me show you how much.”

And then he lowered his lips to hers, giving her the kiss she longed for, sending sparks of excitement to every nerve ending, warming her more than the Texas sun. Birds chirped, squirrels scampered, and Marisa sighed with pleasure as the man she loved held her in his embrace.

“You look like a woman who's dreaming about the man she loves.” Kate cut a tiny piece from a slice of pineapple and speared it with her fork.

“And you look like a woman who's not feeling well.” Though
this was supposed to be a breakfast meeting to finalize the Christmas celebration, Marisa appeared to be the only person eating.

Kate shook her head. “I'm fine. It's just that I'm not much of a breakfast person. But don't let that stop you.” She gestured toward the buffet with its selection of pastries, cereals, and yogurt. “You'll need energy for all that we have planned, starting with the parade and the costumes for the float, but before we talk about Christmas, tell me about you and Blake. From an outsider's view, it looks like something has changed.”

Lauren had said the same thing when Marisa returned from the hike. “There's not much to tell,” Marisa said, repeating the story she'd given Lauren. “We're trying to figure out whether we have a future together.” They'd been doing that ever since the day they'd gone to Strawberry Chantilly, but the hike and the conversation they'd shared had drawn them closer and had deepened their relationship.

“You're giving an awfully good imitation of two people in love.” Kate took another bite of pineapple, washing it down with a sip of herb tea.

“Does love mean being confused? That's the way I feel.” When Kate merely crooked an eyebrow, encouraging Marisa to continue, she did. “I've never felt like this before. I love the time we spend together, and now I'm worried about what it'll be like when Blake goes to Pennsylvania. I hate the idea of being apart for two weeks.”

That was part of what confused Marisa, that and the fear that this was nothing more than a dream and that she'd wake to discover Blake had never existed. Marisa didn't know how she'd bear that. In the past, she'd prided herself on her independence. She hadn't needed anyone to make her life complete, but now Blake had become such an integral part of her life that she dreaded being separated.

Kate nodded. “Greg mentioned that he was going away. Blake said we could rent out his cabin while he's visiting his dad, but neither of us wants to do that.” She chuckled. “We've started calling it ‘Blake's cabin' rather than its official name. But I'm digressing. Is there anything I can do to help unconfuse you?”

“I don't think so. It's something I need to work out on my own.”

“I know you probably don't want any advice, but I'm going to give it anyway. Don't let Blake slip away. Greg says he's one of the good guys.”

“That's what I think too.”