Lakeside Romance (2 page)

“Tell that to your mom.” Jane Lynn's grief-stricken screams echoed inside the dark chambers of his mind.

You should have saved her! My daughter is dead because of you!

Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced the accusation back behind the locked door of his memory. He glanced longingly toward his front door. “I appreciate your concern. I do, but I'm running on empty. I need to catch some
z
's.”

Billy gave him a long look. “I'm serious, man. Would you want Christy to live like this if she had lost you?”

Of course not, but how could he explain the deep hole in his heart that couldn't be filled by anyone else?

“I know it's been tough. I miss my baby sister every day,” Billy continued. “You know, I used to watch you two together and think you were the perfect couple. You'd cook these fantastic meals together, and anytime Etta James came on the radio, you'd pull Christy away from the sink and dance with her. That's what you need—to find another dance partner...someone who makes you laugh and brings back the joy in your life.”

Billy stated the impossible. No one could fill his arms...or his heart...the way Christy had. She had been a perfect fit.

He shot a mischievous look at Alec. “If you don't start living—I mean really living instead of going through the motions—then I'm going to pass out your number to every single chick I know...and I know plenty.”

Alec's eyes narrowed. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.”

Alec dropped his chin to his chest a moment, then glared at Billy. “Fine, you win.”

The teasing tone dropped out of Billy's voice. “It's not about winning, Alec.”

“Yeah.” Alec rubbed his thumb and forefinger over eyelids made of burlap. “I really need to hit the hay.”

Billy clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay. We'll talk soon.”

“Later.” Alec strode across the lawn, his feet and the frayed hems of his jeans dampened by the night dew. He entered his apartment, locking the door behind him.

Instead of heading for his bed, he dropped into the oversize leather chair in the corner of the living room. Swinging a foot onto the matching ottoman, he rested his head against the cushioned back.

The minute the fire alarm had screamed through the stillness of the night, his adrenaline had yanked him out of his sleep. He had thrown on clothes and rushed upstairs. All he could think about was saving the new tenant. He couldn't handle another death on his conscience.

Sitting up, he opened the drawer in the side table and reached for a handful of photos, smudged with fingerprints and creased from being handled. He leafed through them quickly, not really needing the visual reminder of Christy's smile or the way her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed. But, for a moment, he needed to flip through them to remind himself why he couldn't respond differently to Billy's offer.

He paused on the one photo that nearly mangled his gut each time he looked at it—a candid shot of him and Christy slow dancing in his grandparents' kitchen. They had celebrated their first Christmas together as a married couple with his family. While doing dishes, their wedding song had come on the radio. He asked Christy to dance with him. She'd fit perfectly into his arms. He hadn't minded the way she teased him playfully about his missteps. His sister, Chloe, had taken the picture as he dropped a kiss on the tip of his wife's nose.

The memory only served to hurt him more deeply. Because, as he continued to gaze at the image, a thought invaded his mind. He hadn't just lost his wife and everything they owned in the fire—he'd also lost his unborn son.

Alec dropped the pictures back in the drawer and slammed it shut. He pushed himself out of the chair and wandered down the darkened hall to his bedroom.

More than anything, he wanted to bring back the family he'd lost and have the life he was meant to live. But that was impossible.

If he could turn back the clock, he'd make different choices—choices that would've protected Christy and his baby. As long as the trauma from his past continued to plague him, having a life with anyone else was impossible.

But he couldn't drown out Billy's words. His brother-in-law still remained single, despite his share of dates, so he didn't understand what it was like to love and lose one's partner.

What Alec wouldn't give to laugh again and to have the same kind of happiness he'd shared with Christy.

But dancing ever again?

That was out of the question. No one could fill his arms the way she had.

Chapter Two

T
his wasn't how Sarah expected to start this new initiative. At least they had a buffer of time until the teenagers started next week. Sarah and Melissa had planned to use this week to finalize any last-minute details, buy supplies and set up the community center for group cooking. But now it looked like she may be on her own.

She parked her dented yellow VW Beetle in the parking garage, grabbed the basket of white daisies and hurried across the lot. The doors to Shelby Lake Memorial swooshed open. The tang of antiseptic spiraled her back to last summer when Dad had spent time in Pittsburgh after suffering a heart attack.

Finding the elevator, she took it to the second floor. She stopped at room 218 and tapped softly. Hearing a faint “come in,” she entered and then partially closed the door to drown out the dinging call bells and talking in the hall.

Sunshine spilled through the narrow window, streaking across the pale green walls and glossy tiled floors.

Melissa Kendall, the pastor's wife and her summer outreach program partner, lay in the bed. She was dressed in a hospital gown with an IV pumping fluid into her arm, and her dark hair fanned across the pillow, emphasizing the chalky whiteness of her skin.

Nate, Melissa's husband and Sarah's pastor, slumped in an uncomfortable position in a chair next to the bed, eyes closed, his hand resting on his wife's.

Eyes drowsy, Melissa managed a weak smile. “Hey.”

“When you suggested we get together this morning to talk about the program, you failed to mention the new meeting spot.” Sarah smiled to show she was joking.

“Yeah, well, you know me—Queen of the Last-Minute Changes. Pretty flowers.”

“I figured they'd cheer you up.” Sarah set the flowers on the windowsill and moved over to the bed. She squeezed Melissa's fingers. “When you didn't show up at the community center or answer your phone, I called Nate's secretary, Cindy, to see if you were at the church. She told me where to find you.”

Pulling her hand out of her husband's grasp, Melissa tried to sit up but winced and dropped back on the pillow. Lines tightened around her mouth. “I didn't feel so hot in church yesterday, and then after lunch, I started having some nausea and stomach pains. Last night I doubled over, so Nate called the ambulance. Once we arrived, I was rushed into surgery for an emergency appendectomy.”

“I'm so sorry. How are you feeling now?”

“Tired, and a little sore. I woke up in pain a little while ago, and the nurse gave me something, but it hasn't kicked in yet.” Melissa's eyelids fluttered as if she were fighting sleep to talk.

“Who's staying with Little Nate?”

“He's with Mom and Dad.”

Sarah smoothed Melissa's hair away from her forehead. “Is there anything I can do?”

Tears welled up in Melissa's eyes and seeped over the curve of her face.

“Hey, it will be okay.” Sarah opened the small box of hospital tissues and handed one to Melissa.

Melissa wiped her eyes and shook her head. “All those months and months of planning, and now our summer program is coming to a halt.”

Sarah's heart picked up speed. “What do you mean ‘coming to a halt'? Did the program lose funding?”

“Nothing like that.” Melissa shook her head, then offered a wobbly smile. “I'm pregnant, Sarah.”

“Oh, that's great! Right?”

“Yes, of course.” She dropped her gaze to her hands and tore the tissue into small pieces. “But with the emergency surgery, my doctor wants me on bed rest for the next few weeks to ensure I don't lose this baby.”

Nate stirred and looked around the room a little confused. Then he stretched, stifled a yawn and nodded to Sarah. “Hey, Sarah.”

“Hi. I hear congratulations are in order.”

He shot a worried glance at Melissa but couldn't hide the smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, thanks.”

He leaned over the bed and brushed a kiss across his wife's temple. “How are you feeling, babe?”

“Sore. Tired.”

“Close your eyes and rest.” Nate stood and stretched again. “I need to find some coffee. Sarah, care to join me?”

Sarah cast a quick look at her friend only to find her struggling to stay awake. “Sure.” She leaned over the bed and gave Melissa a gentle hug. “Don't worry. Just focus on getting better.”

Nate grazed his fingers across Melissa's cheek. “We're going down to the cafeteria. We'll be back shortly. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Her voice slurred as she tried but failed to keep her eyes open.

Sarah headed for the door and waited in the hall for Nate. He joined her, dragging his hands through his hair. Dark circles smudged his eyes. Morning stubble darkened his jaw. His wrinkled polo shirt and shorts showed he hadn't left his wife's side.

“Long night, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that. The pain meds have kicked in, so Mel's going to be out for a while. Let's hit the cafeteria for some coffee and food.”

“As long as you don't mind being away from her.”

“I do, but I need to check on Little Nate and call Cindy to cancel my appointments for the rest of the day.”

“Nate, is there anything I can do?”

He stabbed the ground floor button on the elevator panel, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts before bracing a shoulder against the wall. “Yes, but I need coffee so I can speak coherently.”

As the elevator made the trip toward the main level, Sarah wondered if she should be concerned about Melissa's anxiety over the demise of the program. Or was she stressing because she couldn't help? Hopefully Nate could shed some light on the situation. If they were truly thinking about canceling, maybe she could get him to reconsider. Not just for the community's sake and for all the kids signed up, but for her sake, as well. She needed the income to hold her over for the summer. Plus, the next three months would help her figure out what she wanted to do with her life.

The scents of breakfast beckoned them toward the hot-foods station, where Nate heaped a plate with eggs and several slices of bacon. Sarah filled two foam cups with coffee. Nate paid for the food, and then they found an empty table toward the back of the hospital cafeteria.

After praying over his food, he shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. A few more bites and a couple slurps of coffee later, he wiped his mouth and sat back in his chair. “Now I feel a little more human.”

“You've had a rough night.” She stirred creamer into her coffee.

He pushed the rest of the eggs around the paper plate. “Yeah, she had me pretty scared for a while.”

Sarah reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “She'll be fine, Nate.”

“I know.” Pushing his tray aside, he leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “So you're getting settled in your new place?”

“Yes, it's been an...interesting weekend. Met my landlord.” No need to tell Nate about the popcorn...she wanted to convince him to keep the program.

“Alec Seaver's a good man. He's been through a lot. Don't let his gruff get to you.”

Remembering her landlord's stony glare, she stored that bit of info away. She wanted to ask more but knew Nate wouldn't spill what wasn't his to share. One more thing she respected about her pastor.

“Listen, Sarah, I need to talk to you about the summer outreach program.”

Her hands tightened around her cup. “Sure, what's up?”

“This is such a great opportunity for our church to reach beyond its doors and connect with the kids who don't attend regularly or at all. You and Mel have done a ton of planning. It's scheduled to begin next week with Mel teaching the bulk of the cooking portion of the program, right?”

Sarah picked up the plastic stirrer and twisted it into a knot. “Yes, very few people have Melissa's cooking talents.”

“I wasn't a fool to marry a woman with mad culinary skills.” A smile tugged at his mouth as he patted his trim stomach.

Sarah laughed. “Very smart move on your part, my friend.”

Nate's smile disappeared. “I talked with the doctor after Melissa's surgery. This pregnancy surprised all of us. We're thrilled, but we're also concerned because she's already had two miscarriages since Little Nate was born. The doctor wants to keep her activities limited for the next couple of months to ensure she'll be out of danger. Mel's parents and her brother and sister-in-law have already offered to do what's necessary to help us.”

“It's always great to have a supportive family.” Sarah's heart panged a little. Other than Caleb and Zoe, she didn't really know what that entailed. “What can I do to help?”

“I need to know if you can handle the program by yourself. We still have church members signed up each week as volunteers to lend a hand, so you won't be all by yourself. Plus, I'll be in every morning to do the daily devotional like we talked about. Melissa's stressing out about losing this outreach opportunity. If she knows you're willing to continue the program without her, then she'll relax.”

“Yes, Nate, of course. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it.”

“Great. Because backing out is not really an option.” Nate drained his cup and stood, grabbing the tray. “I appreciate everything you're doing, Sarah. Like I said when I hired you—if this program is a success, the board wants to make it a full-time opportunity. That way we can help these kids way past summer, even if it's only for a couple of hours after school. They need to know they matter.”

Sarah followed Nate out of the cafeteria, chewing on his final words. She'd figure out a way to get through the cooking portion of the program, even if it meant reading dozens of cookbooks, viewing YouTube videos or binge-watching the Food Network. It couldn't be that hard. After all, a bunch of teenagers wouldn't be expecting Rachael Ray, right?

She couldn't let her church family down...or the kids involved in the program.

* * *

If only life's problems could be solved with a pot of soup.

Alec lifted the lid and stirred the heavy cream into the zuppa Toscana bubbling on the stove. He tossed in two large handfuls of chopped kale, gave it another stir and then topped the pot with the lid to let everything simmer for about ten more minutes. The aroma of cooked sausage and fried bacon mingled with the chopped onion and pressed garlic.

Ella Fitzgerald crooned from his docked iPhone on the counter. He hummed along as she sang about someone watching over her.

The timer on his bread maker beeped. After turning the machine off, Alec reached for a pot holder, pulled the bread pan out and turned over the steaming loaf of Italian herb bread onto the metal cooling rack.

The doorbell pealed, sending his shoulders to his ears. He made another mental note to install a different, less intrusive sounding one.

Swallowing a sigh, he dropped the pot holder on the counter and wiped his hands on a dish towel before heading to the door.

He'd left the front door open, allowing the afternoon breeze to sweep in through the screen door. He saw a woman's silhouette on the porch. Too tall to be his sister. Besides, Chloe would knock once and come in without waiting for an invitation. Or come in through the back door.

The woman turned, and his steps slowed. His new tenant stood on his welcome mat, her arms wrapped around a stack of books, and a wide smile emphasized those incredible cheekbones.

“Can I help you?”

She shifted the books and pulled a hand free to give him a little wave. “Hi, Alec...right?”

He nodded, but didn't say anything more.

“Yeah, well, I checked my mail and found a letter addressed to you in my box.” She pulled an envelope off the stack of books and thrust it at him.

He took it, caught the return address—Shelby Lake County Juvenile Detention Center—and his gut tightened. He shoved it in his back pocket, planning to add it to the rest later. “Thanks for dropping it off.”

“You're welcome.” She turned away from the door and started across the porch. Before he could close the door, she turned back to him. “You're probably going to think I'm a nut or something, but I could smell something amazing coming from your place, so I wondered who did your cooking.” Her words tumbled over her lips so quickly and without a breath in between that Alec was thankful she didn't just pass out from the effort.

“My cooking?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, something smells so great.”

Was she wrangling for an invitation?

“I do my own cooking.”

“You made...” She paused, lifted her nose and inhaled deeply a moment before letting out the pent up breath slowly. A smile spread easily across her face as if it was something she did often. “It smells fantastic. What is it, by the way?”

“Zuppa Toscana and Italian herb bread.”

“Sounds like something you'd get in a restaurant. My friend Melissa is an amazing cook, too.” Sarah shifted the load in her arms again. Alec caught a glimpse of one of the titles and recognized it as a cookbook he had sitting on the shelf next to his fridge. “Would you like a job?”

He scowled “A job? I have a job.”

“Right.” She waved a hand as if dismissing her offer. “I'm sure you do. This isn't even a regular job. Especially since you wouldn't get paid.”

“That sounds really appealing.” He folded his arms over his chest and pressed a shoulder against the doorjamb.

She laughed, a sound that stirred a dormant feeling inside him. “Actually it's a temporary volunteer position. I'm overseeing a new summer outreach program through the youth ministry at my church. We're helping teenagers learn basic life skills such as cooking, cleaning, budgeting, etcetera. My program partner, who is this amazing chef, had emergency surgery last night, so now she won't be able to do the cooking portion of the program. And, well, as you saw last night with the popcorn fiasco, I'm not exactly Martha Stewart.”