Precious Blessings (Love Inspired) (4 page)

Maybe this one.

Nope, he just couldn't see Katherine saying yes to a date with him. She'd turn him down flat. His life was a mess; he knew it. He was no prize, plenty of women he'd dated had said it.

To save what dignity he had left, he headed out into the wind and storm. It was abrupt, probably came across as rude, but he'd done the best he could.

Once inside his cruiser, as he let the engine warm and the fog clear from the windshield, he could see her inside the store, going about her work. There was something
about the way she moved with unconscious grace. The way she stopped to tuck a strand of her light blond hair behind one ear, and it was an utterly feminine gesture.

He missed the gentleness of a woman in his life. Katherine McKaslin made him remember a time when he hadn't been so isolated. When he'd been a man unjaded by life and believing in love's illusions.

Yep, buddy, it's best to just keep on going.

So he put the car in Reverse, backed away from the curb and didn't stop until the bookstore disappeared from his rearview mirror. Until there was just blinding snow behind him and a long, lonely night's work ahead.

 

Katherine knew what her sister was going to make of it. The moment the back door swung open, she braced for the worst. She was about to get hit with double barrels.

Aubrey, Ava's twin and mirror image, rushed down the devotionals aisle. “Are those the flowers? You were so totally right, Av. White roses. Talk about classy.”

Behind the cash register, Katherine tried to take the kidding with the love it was meant. “Nothing says
thank you
like white roses, don't you think? It's a thank-you, girls, not a sign of romance.”

Ava abandoned all pretense of shelving and trotted up to add her two cents. “That's the story she's sticking to—”

“—but we know better,” Aubrey finished.

“You should have seen how he was looking at her.”

“Like on the tape?”

“More.”

The twins nodded together, looking as if they were having a twin moment of shared thoughts.

Katherine grabbed the cash tray and closed the empty drawer. “I hope you two are headed home. The state patrol just closed the highway outside of town.”

“The
state patrol.
” Ava's tone held huge significance.

“Exactly. She didn't seem riveted to their bulletins before.”

“You two.” Her face felt hot. Couldn't they see they were embarrassing her? It wasn't easy being the big sister. No respect. “Go. Shoo. Call me when you get home.”

“She just doesn't want to talk about him,” Aubrey said to Ava.

“Nope. We've seen this stage before.”

“The denial stage?”

“Uh-huh.” The twins bobbed their heads together. “Are you sure you don't want us to stay?” they asked in perfect unison.

“I'm sure.” She loved her sisters. It was impossible not to. They were dear, even at the ripe old ages of twenty-seven, dressed in similar colors and style, naturally identical in just about every way, from the long sweep of their platinum hair to the lopsided crook of their grins. From the day they'd come home from the hospital, she'd always known they were special. A girl couldn't have more loving and loyal sisters anywhere. “Go. I'll give you twenty minutes to make it home and if I don't hear from you, I'm calling.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Bye.”

The twins walked away together, their voices cheerful and growing faint, and then fainter. The back door closed, and she was alone.

And why did Jack Munroe stay on her mind the entire time she closed up and totaled the day's deposit? Maybe it was the delicate perfume from the tightly closed rosebuds. Maybe it was the big deal the twins had made about the man who was showing simple courtesy by bringing flowers as a thank-you. Either way, she was
not
in denial about liking Jack.

Jack Munroe with his grizzly-bear temper and his rigid-spine stance was a black-and-white kind of man. No gray areas allowed. He was an officer of the law. He spent his work life judging others, finding them guilty of speeding or reckless driving or worse. She'd seen the mortification on his face when he'd admitted what his daughter had done. He was a play-by-the rules kind of man.

She
was
looking for that kind of man, but she would guess that Jack Munroe had never made a major mistake in his life. He might have a blind spot when it came to his daughter, and rightly so, otherwise he didn't look like the kind of man who forgave mistakes easily.

So, that was that.

“T
his is lame, Dad. I
won't
do it.”

Jack lifted his gaze from the mountainside road long enough to take in the confrontational jut of Hayden's chin and the fury in her cool eyes.

Uh-oh. He knew that look. It was the same one he'd been dealing with for most of the week, ever since he'd hauled her home from Katherine McKaslin's store.

“I won't and you can't make me.”

Keep your cool, Jack. Through the haze of falling snow, he negotiated the final curve and spotted the exit for the ski resort. “You'll choose to do this or I'm adding more volunteer time to your sentence.”

No answer came, but the fury of her silence increased the temperature in the car by a full ten degrees.

It didn't matter. Nothing could change his mind. He'd decided Hayden was going to join Marin's youth group and participate in every single youth-
group activity until he got his good Hayden back. He knew she was hiding
somewhere
behind the sullen belligerence. If he had to devote his day off to that cause, then fine. No sacrifice was too great for his little girl.

I saw that in her. That she's good, without a doubt.

Why did Katherine's words come back to him? He could hear her dulcet, precise tone. Could remember the play of the overhead lights on her straight blond locks, held neatly in place by a sensible barrette over each ear. She'd been understated elegance in her modest black sweater and slacks. Katherine didn't need makeup or high fashion to be lovely.

Eventually Hayden would come to the same conclusion about her own appearance. His ears still rang from the heated argument they'd had over her makeup and shocking fashion statement. She'd been wearing her approved school clothes when she left the house each morning, he'd learned, and then had changed at Jan's house, reversing the process after school.

And you didn't even guess it, man. That's what ate at him the most.

Hayden stared out the window with enough hatred to melt half the snow pack on the mountain peaks. “This is all that awful store lady's fault.”

“Miss McKaslin is the reason I didn't have to bail you out.”

“Right. I can't believe how wound up everybody got over some lousy figurines. Just chill.”

Jack hit the brakes and the Jeep skidded into a parking slot. “What has gotten into you? Do you think
if you push me hard enough, I'll move us back to Phoenix? Is that what this is about? Then you're flat wrong, missy.”

“I hate this place. I wanna go home.”

“This
is
home. If you don't want to like it here, fine. But you
will
do one more week's volunteer work—”

“Dad!”

“Another word, and it'll be two.” He waited for the red haze of rage beating dully in his eye sockets to fade. The heartbreak of a disappointed father did not.

Hayden's face had scrunched up in resentment, but at least she held back. It was an effort, he could see that by the hard cinch of her mouth, but she stayed silent. That was an improvement.

Relief cooled some of the anger, but didn't begin to touch the ache in his heart. “Get your things. Pastor Marin said you kids are meeting for prayer and fellowship in the lodge before the group lesson.”

More sullen silence. Hayden whipped her door open and shot out of the car, not so eager to join the youth-group meeting, he figured, but to get away from him. Well, he could handle anything she could dish out because he was her father and he was committed. One hundred thousand percent. He grabbed the keys and climbed out into the bitter weather.

Movement caught his eye. A slender woman with her back to him was ambling away from the parking lot. She was dressed in warm sensible skiwear and carrying an expensive set of skis.

Was that Katherine? Surprise sparked like a new flame in his chest.

No, of course that's not her. His surprise faded to nothing, nothing at all. He wasn't even going to tell himself that he was wishing it was Katherine. With the way he'd been so rude, just abruptly walking away from her, if that
was
her, she would probably be running in the other direction as fast as she could.

The slam of the Jeep's passenger door jarred him out of his thoughts. Hayden glared at him, all zipped and bundled up. “Where do I gotta go?”

“First we'll hit the rental place. Get geared up.” He pressed the remote to lock the doors. “With any luck, we'll get you to the lodge so you don't miss a microsecond of the meeting.”

“Oh, joy.”

Hayden marched off ahead of him and didn't look back.

He had that effect on a lot of females.

 

Katherine
loved
skiing; the sport had only one flaw, the fact that you had to go back up the mountainside. I'm not afraid of heights, she told herself stubbornly, I'm not afraid of heights.

Okay, she was. She'd never been able to talk herself out of this fear. Nor did the view of the rugged terrain far below her skis as she rode the lift ever look any less horrifying. She did the only thing she could do—squeezed her eyes shut.

“I know something to take your mind off falling to our deaths,” Marin said, ever helpful. “Hayden Munroe came to our worship and ski program. She's taking her first lesson with the instructor this very moment.”

“That's great.” Katherine's initial thought was for the girl who was heading down a very troubled path. “I know you'll have her feeling better about herself and her life in no time.”

Her second thought was, unfortunately, about Jack Munroe. Had he brought Hayden to the lodge? And if so, had he stayed?

Don't think about that, Katherine. You're not interested in him, remember?

“That father of hers is sure something.” Marin turned to the other member of their trio squished onto the narrow bench. “Holly, you've got to see this guy. It almost makes you believe in Mr. Right.”

Holly gasped. “But you don't believe in Mr. Right.”

“True. I've done enough marital counseling in my career to know that he's a myth. Katherine, we're almost at the top. You might want to open your eyes now. I'm absolutely sure that there is no Mr. Right anywhere in existence on this earth. Just Mr.
Almost
-Right.”

“And those are few and far between.” With a scoot off the bench chair, Katherine landed, skis parallel and knees bent. When she turned to look over her shoulder, Holly and Marin swished to a stop behind her. “Trust me, Jack Munroe isn't anywhere close to being Mr. Almost-Right.”

“Wow, did you hear that, Holly?”

“I heard it, Marin. Katherine's in her denial stage.”

“What
is
it with everyone? The twins said the same thing. I'm
not
in denial. Really.”

“Of course you're not,” Holly said in a comforting
way, although Katherine wasn't fooled. Not one bit. “So, tell me, is this guy—whoa, buddy!”

“Outta the way! Comin' through!” A man shouted, in sheer panic.

Was it her imagination, or did that sound sort of like Jack Munroe? Katherine hopped out of the way just in time to see a blur speed by. The blur was a black-parka-wearing, wide-shouldered man crouched very low over his skis, his poles held straight in front of him as if he were roasting hot dogs over a campfire.

“That looks like doom on two sticks,” Marin commented. “I'd better pray for that man.”

“He's going to need it. Oh, he went right through the first turn.” Holly cocked her head to listen. “He missed the trees. I didn't hear a crash.”

What if that
was
Jack? Katherine kicked off and followed Marin down the trail. She couldn't see anything of the fallen skier. That wasn't a good sign. What if he was hurt?

Lord, please don't let him be hurt.

“Hey, Katherine,” Marin called as she led the way. “Do you know who that man reminded me of?”

Yeah, she knew. And she was going to stay in denial about that, too. “A beginning skier who missed the rope tow for the bunny run?”

When they reached the first turn, all they could see was a hole in the snowbank and a single ski sliding crookedly along the trail.

Marin reached the edge first. “Mister, are you alive?”

Katherine
knew
it was him, even before his gruff baritone rang out from the trees.

“Yep. And better yet, nothing's broken.”

Katherine's heart skipped five beats as she joined Marin at the edge of the bank. Sure enough, she recognized the man below. Although he was in profile, looking down as he tried to free one of his poles from the branches of an evergreen tree, she already knew that particular man's profile by heart. There was no mistaking the hard-planed, granite face. Or the dark shock of hair tumbling from beneath the black ski cap.

It was him. Her stomach clenched tight before it fell downward, tingling, all the way to her knees. Just the way it felt on the uppermost crest of a roller-coaster ride when suddenly down you plunged. Screaming.

Yeah, it was something like that. “J-Jack?”

He looked up. “Uhh…Katherine McKaslin?”

He said it in the same way someone might say,
Oh, good, there's a person infectious with bubonic plague.
“Do you need help up?”

“No! I can do it just fine. You go ahead and keep right on with your skiing.”

“Oh no,” Katherine said sweetly “we'll stay and make sure you get up all right.”

Great. Jack stared at the three women staring back at him. Humiliation eked into his soul like the icy wind through his coat.

Why does it have to be her, Lord?
If he was going to disgrace himself, did it have to be in front of Katherine McKaslin? And why was his bad side showing whenever she was around? “I'm fine. Just getting my snow legs back.”

“Is that something like sea legs?”

Jack could tell she was holding back laughter. Mirth glimmered like flecks of amethyst in her deep violet-blue irises. He liked the sparkles in her eyes very much. “I haven't skied since college. I figured it would come back to me.”

“I hope you didn't ski like this in college.”

His pole came loose from the branches and he gave thanks for that. “Believe it or not, I was a pretty competent skier, but it's taking its own sweet time coming back to me.”

“I hope it comes back to you before you hit the next turn.”

“Me, too.” Jack wondered how she could say that in a kind way, when she had every right to mock him? After all, he'd been a little overconfident in his abilities.

Okay, extremely overconfident. He grabbed one ski and hiked up the snowbank. “I heard that comment you made. The one about the bunny run.”

“Sound must really carry on this mountain.”

“Don't you know it. Truth is, it was my pride. I didn't feel dignified going down the same run as knee-high kids who could ski like Olympians.”

“So you chose the advanced run as an alternative?”

“At least I lived to tell the tale. So far.”

He made it to the top and drew himself up to his full height and still he didn't feel tall enough, not in the eyes of this woman. He hated it. He really did. Because there was something incredibly special about her. She was easily balanced on her skis, leaning on her poles, serene and wholesome. She made his entire being, his entire spirit, take notice.

Suddenly, he was aware of someone else talking and then he remembered. There were two other women with Katherine. And as they were moving away, one was saying, “C'mon, Holly, let's go fetch that ski.”

Ski.
That didn't register either. There wasn't anything in this world but Katherine and the gentle quirk of her smile, and the thud of his pulse in his chest. She kept him glued in place. He could see her heart in her eyes. There wasn't a drop of judgment, nor was she silently teasing him even when he might deserve it.

“Jack, are you going to be able to make it down okay? Marin has her cell phone. She can call for the ski patrol.”

“No!”
He'd rather crash and burn and break every bone in his body—twice—than to admit defeat in front of Katherine. “I'm fine. It's already coming back to me. I think the fall knocked loose some forgotten knowledge inside my head.”

“Good, because you could have been really hurt. I would hate to see that happen to you.”

That comment was tough on a man's ego. Tough because she was concerned and caring. That made him like her even more. “Guess I'll be going now. You want to catch up with your friends?”

She didn't budge. She didn't blink. The crinkle of a hint of a smile remained in the corners of her soft, pretty mouth. Snow flecked the fake-fur lining of her jacket collar and clung to the sleek matching ski cap. She looked like everything good and sweet in the world, and he didn't want to think this way about
this
woman.

“Uh, Jack? Before you take off you need to know something. You're missing a ski.”

It registered vaguely. He straightened his shoulders, looking as tough and manly as possible, considering he only had one ski. “I'll take care of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He had to face it. He was never going to impress this woman—not that he even wanted to, of course. But
had
he wanted to, his dignity had passed the point of no return. He stabbed his poles into the hard berm of snow, ready to go. “Goodbye, Katherine.”

Okay, she could take a hint. Katherine checked the trail for skiers, but no one was coming. She couldn't just leave him here—as Marin had put it, he was doom on two sticks—but she sensed his pride was bruised more than anything.

The poor man. He towered over her, a big mountain of a guy, radiating capability and strength. He didn't look as though he had a single weakness. So why was it hard to find the will to kick off and leave him standing there?