02_Groom of Her Own (8 page)

“Don’t you like apple cobbler?” Sam asked curiously after the waitress departed.

“Yes…I do,” he replied. “It’s just that, well, Rachel made a wonderful apple cobbler. She was a great cook. It took me back for a minute, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Sam looked down and stirred her coffee. Was there anything his wife couldn’t do, she thought in despair? No wonder he still loved her. She sounded perfect.

Brad heard the woebegone tone in Sam’s voice, even if she was unaware of it, and chided himself. If he was going to start dating again, he’d better
stop
singing the praises of Rachel in front of other women. No woman was likely to become interested in a man who was always talking about what a wonderful woman his late wife had been. A change of topic seemed to be in order, he thought, searching for some neutral, common ground.

“So…I understand Laura and Nick will be back this weekend,” he remarked.

Sam looked up at him and forced herself to smile. What did she care how wonderful Rachel was? It wasn’t like she and Brad’s late wife were in competition for his affections or anything. Even if he
was
looking for a new romance, she was definitely not in the running. She’d better get that idea into her head once and for all.

“Yeah. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Laura and I are going to have lunch next week,” she replied.

“You and she seem to be very close.”

“We are,” Sam confirmed.

“What brought you two together in the first place?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t really know. We were both taking night classes at the junior college, and I used to run into her in the ladies’ room. Not a very auspicious beginning,” she said with a wry smile. “Anyway, she seemed kind of forlorn. There was this…haunted…look around her eyes. I found out later that her life was pretty awful at that point, so I guess she needed a friend, and I was available. I’m sure if she hadn’t been so desperate she would have been a little more choosy,” she said in a selfdeprecating tone. “But something clicked, anyway, and we’ve been through a lot together since then.”

Brad shook his head. “Don’t sell yourself short, Sam. Laura’s an excellent judge of character. She obviously recognized a good person when she saw one.”

Sam stared at him, taken aback by the misplaced compliment. Then she lowered her eyes. “Thanks. But save your praise for someone who deserves it,” she said quietly.

Brad frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. If he knew the truth about her, he wouldn’t have to ask. But he didn’t know, and she planned to keep it that way. “I’m not such a great person,” she said lightly.

Brad’s frown remained in place. “I don’t think Laura would agree.”

“Maybe not.” But then, Laura didn’t know her friend’s secret, either. Sam felt her throat constrict, and before she lost control she decided it was time to change the subject. “Speaking of good people, tell me how you decided to become a minister. I’ve never known one before.”

Brad noted that Sam’s eyes were suspiciously bright and realized that he’d touched a nerve with his remark. A very sensitive nerve, it seemed. She honestly didn’t think she was a good person, he realized in surprise. But what on earth could account for her low self-image? Based on what he’d learned during their encounters, the real Sam was totally different from the image she’d conveyed. Different in a good way, according to Brad’s Christian code of ethics. So why did she seem to feel somehow unworthy? He wanted answers, but one look at Sam’s face told him that she wasn’t going to provide them tonight. Reluctantly, he let it go and turned his attention to her question.

“I guess I’ve always known this is what I was meant to do,” he said slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I grew up in a house where Christian values were not only taught, but lived. And unlike you, I knew a couple of ministers who were about as far from the ‘fire and brimstone’ variety as you could get. They were really great people, downto-earth and humble, and they seemed to find great satisfaction in their work. After all, as one of them used to tell me, what could be more worthwhile than spreading the good news of Christianity? I had to agree. Besides, I’ve always been drawn to helping those in trouble, and being a minister allows me to spend my life doing that”

“But isn’t it hard, getting involved in people’s problems? I mean, I’m sure it’s great when you’re able to help, but what about when you’re not?” She dealt with that issue every week at the counseling center. Maybe Brad could offer her some coping tips.

Brad sighed. “I haven’t quite figured out how to handle that yet,” he admitted. “I take things pretty personally, and it’s hard for me to separate other people’s problems from my own. Rachel used to worry about that, in fact. She said I needed to learn how to walk away sometimes, for my own mental health. But I’ve never quite gotten the hang of it.”

Sam rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin in her hand. Dealing once a week with women in trouble was hard enough. He did that kind of work every day. “It all sounds pretty heavy. Don’t you ever take time for fun?”

“Oh, sure. Mostly thanks to Rachel. Before she came into my life, I was a pretty serious guy.”

“And you’re not now?” Sam teased, her lips quirking up.

He smiled ruefully. “Touché. Okay, I’m still serious. I think it goes with the territory. But I have learned to give myself a break from work now and then. Not much in the past few years, but maybe I’m making a new start tonight Going to the symphony was a big step for me.”

Sam looked at him speculatively. She liked this man. He was nice, sensitive, attractive, a great conversationalist, had a good sense of humor. He was the kind of man, under different circumstances, that she would pursue. But given the present circumstances, getting involved with Brad Matthews was not an option.

Yet it didn’t seem right that he should be alone—and lonely. Maybe she could help on that score. She knew some nice, single women she could introduce him to. After all, Brad had gone out of his way to be nice to her, offering her the hand of friendship when she’d desperately needed it. She should try to repay him in some way.

At the same time, she realized that the thought of him going out with another woman was extremely unappealing. But that was just being selfish, she berated herself. She should put his best interests first. And if that meant setting him up with some nice women, so be it.

“Brad, I think what you need to do is start dating again,” she said bluntly, before she could change her mind.

Brad almost choked on the coffee he was swallowing, and by the time he was able to speak, they’d attracted the attention of half the patrons in the café.

“Are you all right?” she asked with concern when he finally stopped coughing.

Brad dabbed at his lips with the napkin and stared at her. “May I ask where that remark came from?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem lonely. I know some nice single women you might enjoy meeting.” She leaned closer and touched his hand. “I know you loved Rachel, Brad,” she said softly. “But she’s gone. You can’t live on memories. Maybe I can help get you into circulation again.”

Brad was speechless. Sam had voiced the thoughts that had been running through his head ever since the wedding. But they were just thoughts at this point. He had no immediate plans to move on them. Seeing Sam on a “friendship” basis was about all he was ready for at the moment.

“Look, Sam, I appreciate your concern,” he acknowledged. “But I’m just not at that point yet And, to be honest, I’m really rusty on the finer points of dating. Rachel was the only woman I ever seriously went out with, and that was a long time ago.”

Sam frowned. “When you say ‘seriously,’ what do you mean exactly?”

He shrugged. “Honestly? I never got past a good-night kiss with any other woman.”

“And you haven’t gone out with anyone since Rachel died?”

“No.”

Sam digested that information—and its implications. It was hard to believe that there was a man Brad’s age alive in today’s world who hadn’t slept around to some extent before marriage and who would remain celibate for six long years after his wife’s death. Certainly none of the men she knew. But here was one sitting right across from her, and she was impressed—and deeply moved. “I understand your reluctance,” she said slowly. “It would be kind of scary to date again after such a long time. But you have to start sooner or later.”

“I was sort of thinking along the lines of ‘later,’” he admitted.

“Why?”

Brad shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Sam’s reputation for directness was one thing Laura had
not
exaggerated. “Sam, I’m not even sure I remember how to talk to a woman—as a woman,” he said frankly.

“Oh, that’s silly,” she replied, dismissing his comment with a wave. “You seem perfectly at ease with me.”

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “I guess maybe that’s because we set the ground rules right up front—friendship. There are different pressures when you’re actually dating.”

Sam felt a sudden heaviness in her heart. He had just confirmed what she already knew—friendship was their destiny. But for some reason, when he put it into words, a little bit of the glow left her heart. With an effort she fought down the sudden melancholy that swept over her.

“That’s true,” she admitted, striving to keep her voice light “But I think we can get around that. I know a woman who might be just your type. Sort of quiet, refined, likes music and books. She hasn’t dated much, either, so she’ll probably be just as nervous as you are. You’ll be even on that score. Why don’t you let me give her a call and see if she’s interested?”

Brad shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said doubtfully.

“What do you have to lose with one date?” Sam argued.

Brad didn’t have an answer to that. He’d told himself it was time to allow for the possibility of romance again. Sam was willing to help him. Why was he hesitating? He couldn’t think of an excuse, so finally, with a sigh, he capitulated.

“You win. I can’t think of any reason not to meet this woman,” he said.

Sam felt her stomach sink to her toes, but she smiled. “Good. I’ll give her a call tomorrow. By the way, her name’s Stephanie Morris, and she’s a librarian. Now why do you have that funny look on your face?” Sam asked suspiciously, when his lips turned up into a crooked smile.

“What funny look?” he asked innocently.

“You know what I mean,” she asserted accusingly. “That look…like you’re secretly laughing at something.”

“I’m not laughing,” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “I’m just amazed. First you get me out house hunting before I’ve really decided to do anything concrete about finding a new place, and now you’re lining up dates for me—sooner, as you put it, rather than later. I’m just wondering what I’m going to get pulled into next.”

Sam smiled. “You never know with Sam Reynolds,” she warned. “Just ask Laura.”

“I might. But you have to promise me one thing, Sam,” he said, suddenly serious.

“What?”

“No singles bars.”

Sam laughed, realizing that he was teasing her. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t even think about it. I just can’t picture you in one of those places.”

“Well, I couldn’t picture Laura there, either, and you managed to get her to a few.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, but kicking and screaming. Besides, it didn’t do any good. Although I must admit that the night we ran into Nick seemed to be a turning point in their relationship,” she said thoughtfully.

“Sam,” Brad warned, not liking the speculative look he saw in her eyes.

Her smile of response seemed somehow shadowed with sadness. “Don’t worry, Brad. You’re safe with me,” she said quietly.

It was only later, after he dropped her off at her condo with a simple good-night and a warmly clasped hand, that he took time to analyze why her suggestion about arranging a date for him left him cold. He should feel something, he thought. Anticipation. Nervousness. Excitement. But he felt nothing. He just wasn’t interested.

It was odd, really. It wasn’t as if he was immune to women anymore. He’d noticed Sam’s fabulous legs tonight. And he noticed the way her eyes could sparkle one minute and then suddenly cloud over with sadness the next. He noticed the way her striking red hair framed her heart-shaped face with vibrant color. He sensed her deep loneliness, which triggered an unexpected protective response in him—and something more, he admitted. Ever since he’d met her, there’d been occasions when he wanted to reach over and touch her for reasons that were not altruistic. His motivation had been purely physical, not spiritual.

So given his reaction to Sam, who was only a friend, he was relatively certain that the right woman, someone like Rachel, could trigger a strong emotional response in him. He was also relatively certain that he was ready to allow someone new into his life.

Then why did he feel absolutely nothing about this date Sam was arranging? He should be looking forward to it. She sounded like a nice woman. They might have a lot in common. It could be the beginning of a whole new chapter in his life. He should be enthusiastic and optimistic. He
would
be enthusiastic and optimistic, he told himself resolutely. He would go to sleep imagining what Stephanie Morris looked like, he thought determinedly.

Funny thing was, try as he might to conjure up her image, every picture he created as he drifted off to sleep featured a woman with startling green eyes and striking red hair.

Chapter Four

S
am dashed into the café, muttering an unflattering comment about the weather as she paused to catch her breath. April was supposed to bring showers, not monsoons, she thought irritably. She’d been dodging raindrops all morning with two different clients, both of whom lingered far longer than expected at every house, and then she’d run into a major traffic jam. All of which meant she was twenty minutes late for her lunch with Laura.

Sam brushed her hair back from her face and sighed as she peered at her reflection in a small mirror just inside the door. She not only
felt
frazzled, she
looked
frazzled. For someone who was always meticulous about her appearance, it was a distressing realization. But then, she’d had a lot of distressing realizations lately, she thought wryly. This one was low on the scale of importance compared to the others.