The Forgiving Hour (24 page)

“Right.”

“You don’t start your job with Master Resource until February, which means you’ve got lots of time on your hands for a few more weeks. Oh yes. I have it on good authority that you outranked your competition for that job by a mile.”

Maybe it wasn’t so horrible, having her brothers bragging about her.

“And one more thing,” Dakota said, revealing that crooked grin of his, the one that made her pulse quicken.

“What’s that?” She was breathless.

He leaned toward her, answering in a stage whisper, “Beyond the slightest doubt, Miss Jennings, you are the best looking of your parents’ offspring.”

Her brothers immediately erupted in protests.

“I beg to differ!”

“Wait just a minute!”

“What d’ya mean, Conway?”

Eli held the half-empty pitcher of root beer over Dakota’s head and pretended he was going to pour out the contents. Then all their voices dissolved into laughter.

Sara felt warm inside. It was wonderful to be here with her brothers. It felt good to joke and laugh. And it felt good to be with Dakota too.

As if reading her thoughts, he leaned forward again. “I mean it. You
are
pretty, Sara.”

It wasn’t fancy, as compliments went. She’d heard more flowery declarations. But it was probably the nicest one she’d ever received — because of who gave it to her.

Sara hadn’t lain awake thinking about a guy in years. She tried to tell herself her wakefulness was due to her new surroundings. The apartment was strange to her. A sharp winter wind was whistling around the corner of the building. The light from an outdoor lamp tossed an odd shadow through the miniblinds and onto the wall.

It had to be something other than thoughts about Dakota Conway that were keeping her awake tonight.

That’s a lie, and I know it.

Dakota was handsome and charming. He was friendly and helpful. He was a fellow believer. And her family liked him.

But none of that was enough to keep her awake at night. Was it? She’d known plenty of handsome men. She’d met Christian men who might have been interested in her, had she given them an opportunity. At least she thought she had. At the moment, she couldn’t recall a single name or face.

I’m older than Dakota,
she thought, not for the first time,
but by how much? And should it matter?

She rolled to her right side and punched her pillow.

Maybe meeting Dakota is the reason I was brought back to Boise.

She groaned, closed her eyes, and rolled over onto her left side.

That’s ridiculous. I didn’t come back here for a man. I came back here for a job. I worked hard for my degree, and now I’m being rewarded for that hard work. Dakota’s a nice guy, but if I was in the market for a husband, I’d look for somebody older, somebody more mature. I don’t want somebody who still has the same mistakes to make that I did.

Her arguments made perfect sense, all of them. Except Dakota’s image remained. She could still see the sparkle in the startling blue of his eyes and the way the left side of his mouth lifted first in that charming grin of his. She could still hear the warm rumble of his laughter, the unique timbre of his voice. She could still smell the musk aftershave he wore.

“What is wrong with me?” she muttered as she flopped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not a silly teenager. I don’t get crushes on guys. I haven’t since I was nineteen.”

She winced at the memory. She didn’t like thinking of that period in her life, not even now when she knew God had forgiven her.

She reminded herself of one of her favorite promises from the Bible:
He will keep in perfect peace all those who trust in Him.
She could certainly use some perfect peace about now.

Then trust in Me.

“I do trust You, Lord,” she whispered. “But what if this is just me and
my
desires getting in the way? How will I know what I’m supposed to do?”

Trust, beloved.

TWENTY-FOUR

Claire was breathless as she watched the curtain go down. Applause erupted all around her, but all she could do was sit still and savor the haunting strains of music that echoed in her mind. Finally she stood, clapping her hands, smiling as she looked toward Kevin.

“You enjoyed it,” he said above the applause and cheers of the audience.

“It was magical.”

He smiled and nodded. “I agree.”

She couldn’t help wondering what sort of strings he’d had to pull to get these tickets to
The Phantom of the Opera
on such short notice. She also wondered what it meant, that he’d gone to both the bother and the expense.

Looking back toward the stage, she watched as the cast took their bows, but her thoughts lingered on Kevin. She’d spent many hours with him since arriving in Seattle and had found she liked his company. He had a way of looking at her, of seeming to be truly interested, no matter what she was saying.

He could become a good friend.

She cast a surreptitious glance in his direction. Could it be that he wanted to be more than a friend?

She didn’t think so. Beyond taking her arm, as any gentleman would, to help her in and out of a car or up a flight of stairs — and that moment at the miniature golf course when he’d shown her how to swing the golf club — he’d never touched her. There was nothing in any of their conversations that he couldn’t have said to one of his male colleagues. And yet —

“Ready?” he asked.

She realized the crowd was beginning to disperse and felt a flash of embarrassment, almost as if she feared he might have read her thoughts. Kevin took hold of her arm as they slipped into the sea of theatergoers, keeping her close to him as they made their way toward the lobby.

It was rather nice, having a man protect her in such a way. Of course, it had been a long time since she’d given a man, other than her son, an opportunity to do so.

The night had turned cold while they were inside the theater. Claire shivered as they stepped outside. She turned up the collar of her wool coat and slipped on her gloves. When she was ready, Kevin cupped her elbow with the palm of his hand as they made their way to his automobile.

“I’m glad you could go with me tonight,” he said, now that the buzz of the crowd had been left behind.

“Me too. It was an unexpected treat. I usually have to go to the musicals alone.” The moment she said it, she was sorry. It sounded as if she were feeling sorry for herself. She tried to explain. “Dakota is busy with his friends or work, and musical theater just isn’t Alana’s cup of tea. But I don’t mind going alone. I love it that much.”

“I usually go by myself, too, ever since my wife died. Irene loved the theater. She had to drag me along at first. It took awhile for me to learn to appreciate it.”

“Tell me about her. Irene.”

“She was special.” It was obvious from his tone that there was a wealth of feelings within those three simple words.

Claire almost wished she hadn’t asked about her.

“She had a good and giving heart.” He grinned. “And she was a notorious practical joker. You had to stay on your toes all the time with her around.”

“How long were you married?”

“Twenty years.” His voice softened. “We were blessed with twenty wonderful years together before she went home to the Father.” He chuckled. “She’s probably playing practical jokes all over heaven.”

“You still think about her often, don’t you?”

He briefly met her gaze. “I cherish the memories of what we had, sure. But I don’t live in the past. Irene was in a lot of pain toward the end, and I knew that in heaven, she would be pain free. That made it easier to let her go on.”

Claire was still pondering his comments when they arrived at his car. Kevin unlocked the doors with his remote as they drew near. He opened the passenger door and helped Claire in.

They talked about the play throughout the drive to her condo. It wouldn’t be until later that she wondered if that change of subject had been by accident or by design.

Dakota hadn’t expected to see Sara at the paint-a-thon that Saturday, but it sure made the day more special to have her there. The singles groups from five area churches had joined together to repair and spruce up the interiors of three homes in a poorer section of town. With just a little effort, Dakota managed to be paired with Sara, painting the kitchen of a tiny three-room house — perhaps
shanty
would have been a better description — while two others from Sunrise worked in the bedroom.

“Do you want the walls or the trim?” he asked her as they stared at their dingy surroundings.

“Trim, I guess.”

“We’d better do some cleaning first or the paint will never stick.”

“That’s just what I was thinking.”

Sara grabbed a plastic bucket, dumped in some pine-scented cleanser, and filled it with warm water. Dakota retrieved a couple of rags from the box of supplies they’d hauled into the house not long before. In a matter of minutes, he was scrubbing grease off the wall behind the stove, and Sara was down on her knees trying to remove grime from the baseboard.

“Can you feel the cold coming through the wall?” he asked her. “The old guy who lives here must have a hard time staying warm in the winter.”

“Yes. Imagine having to live like this. It must make a person feel hopeless.”

He paused and looked in her direction.

She met his gaze. “I thought I had it rough when I first went to Denver. Makes me ashamed of myself. By comparison, I was rich.” She returned to her scrubbing.

She could have stayed home today,
he thought as he watched her. Certainly she would have had a good excuse. For all practical purposes, she’d moved twice within the last couple of weeks, first home to Idaho, and then into her own place in Boise. Nobody would’ve faulted her for taking a Saturday to relax.

Pretty
and
caring. He found more to like about Sara Jennings every time he was with her.

“Dakota, can you toss me that wire brush?”

“Sure. Here.”

She sat back on her heels and held out her hands. He lofted the brush, and she caught it easily, smiling as she did so. “Thanks.”

“Tell me about Denver,” he said. It was either that or ask her out on a date, and he was afraid she might turn him down if he asked too soon.

“Not much to tell.”

“Must be something. You were there for twelve years.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said with a laugh.

Over the next few hours, they talked about many different things, among them their college experiences, her passion for horses and acting, his interest in computer technologies, their shared love for the Lord. It seemed that in no time at all they were finished. The dingy little kitchen had been transformed, brightened with yellow paint and new curtains at the window.

As they packed up to leave, Dakota finally managed to ask the question that had been in the back of his mind all day. “Sara, would you be interested in taking a bike ride along the greenbelt? Maybe next Saturday, if it isn’t too cold.”

“Gee, I’m not sure. I haven’t ridden a bike in a long time.”

“They say you never forget how.”

She smiled at him. “That’s what they say.”

He thought for sure that she was going to refuse.

“I’d like to join you, Dakota. I haven’t had much real exercise lately. But I don’t have a bicycle.”

“I can borrow one.” He sounded overeager, and he knew it.

“Okay. Give me a call later in the week. We’ll see what the weather does.”

He watched as she got into her car and drove away.

Please, God, I know the die-hard skiers wouldn’t approve of this request. But I’d appreciate it if You’d make the sun shine and warm things up for next Saturday. Just for one day.

TWENTY-FIVE

“So just what
do
you believe?” Kevin leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed and handsome in his navy slacks and burgundy cable-knit sweater. “I’d really like to understand.”

Instead of answering him, Claire glanced out the restaurant window.