Groom in Training (4 page)

Instead of dwelling on the day care, Steph turned to the problem at hand. Fred was her dog. He lived there, and he had every right to play in the backyard. Steph nibbled on the cookie as she reviewed her conversation with Martin. He insulted her and her dog with his name-calling. When she put Martin’s anger into perspective, it seemed like a fly speck in relationship to much of her life when she’d had to rescue herself. Dodging her memories, Steph pulled herself back to resolve the immediate situation.

She could take a different tack. Next time she spoke with Martin she would say nice things about Suzette and agree that she was special. Not that Fred wasn’t. But he had to stop digging. Being around other dogs was nothing new to Fred. He’d enjoyed playing with the ones she cared for each day. So why now? Maybe Nick had hit on it. Fred wanted to play. So did Suzette. Eventually the dogs would be so familiar with each other the excitement would fade. No more digging.

But could she convince Martin the ogre to give it a try? If she couldn’t, she could count on Nick. His charm could win over anyone.

Steph stood back, her eyes brimming with tears. “Molly, you look gorgeous.”

Her friend peered at her through the boutique mirror. “You think Brent will like it?”

Fighting back her own emotion, Steph drew up her shoulders. “No, he won’t like it.”

Molly spun around, her wedding gown twisted around her body. “No?”

“He’ll love it, Molly. You look amazing.”

Molly gazed at the dress, a satin gown with hints of delicate pink blossoms embroidered on the sheer overlay. A satin bow adorned the fitted waist and flowed to the ground.

Seeing Molly’s wedding dress pierced Steph’s memory. For her own winter wedding, she’d worn satin with lace detailing. She’d been filled with so much hope. “The dress is perfect for a spring wedding.” Steph approached her, the chiffon of her gown swishing at her feet. The soft coral shade flashed in the mirror. “Look how your veil has the same lacy detail. It’s perfect. You look beautiful.”

“I don’t feel like it. I’m getting nervous.”

“All brides feel that way.” Her mind flew back, reliving her rankled nerves as she approached her wedding day, but using herself as an example wouldn’t soothe Molly’s tension. “When you walk down the aisle and look into Brent’s face, your anxiety will be gone.”

“I know, but I want everything to be perfect.”

“There you go, Moll. Still looking for perfection.”

Molly shrugged, and they both laughed.

Steph had never known anyone besides Molly who wanted her life to be flawless. Life did have imperfections. She closed her mouth, unwilling to muffle Molly’s happiness. “Being a bride is like falling in love. You feel giddy one minute and question yourself the next. Your pulse throbs, and your chest presses against your heart, and you—”

“Hold it.” Molly lifted the hem of her gown and rushed to her side, letting the lacy hem fall to the carpet.

Steph tried to read her mind. “What?”

Molly narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me. I can’t believe it.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” She had no idea what Molly was talking about.

“You’re in love.”

A grasp escaped her. “In love?” Steph nearly choked on the word. She couldn’t be in love. In like, maybe, or infatuated. That was different than real love.

“It’s that guy you told me about. Your new neighbor.” She moved closer, her eyes wide. “You haven’t told me a thing.”

“Nothing to tell.” Her heart sang as images of Nick swept through her mind, but saying it aloud made it too real. “You have romance on your mind. Let’s get these dresses off and have lunch like we planned.”

Molly rested her fingers against her cheeks. “Steph, I miss our talks.”

So did Steph. Since Brent had come into Molly’s life, her life had changed, too. Between the shelter and Brent, Steph had taken a backseat. Resentment didn’t enter into it, only disappointment. And only for herself. Steph’s chest weighed with selfish thoughts until she cast them away, wanting only the best for Molly. “We see each other at work. We still talk.” But they both knew it wasn’t the same.

Color pooled on Molly’s face. “It’s hard to believe the date is almost here. I’d been certain for so long that I would never marry.”

“That’s something we used to have in common.” Steph tried to sound lighthearted, but she feared she failed.

“I know.” Molly’s excitement faded.

Steph wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Don’t feel bad.

I’m happy for you, Molly, and I’ve never seen you happier.” She’d finally spoken the truth, and the tension lifted.

Molly eased to Steph’s side. “It just goes to prove that what we think and what God has in store don’t always go hand in hand.” She squeezed Steph’s arm. “You don’t know what He has planned for you.”

Molly and God. Steph wished she had the kind of confidence that Molly had.

A grin grew on Molly’s face. “Now, lest you think I’ve forgotten what we were talking about, I’m not moving until you tell me everything.”

“I have nothing to tell even if we can stay here all day.” Steph glanced toward the doorway, hoping the tailor would return to break into their conversation. “It’s a standoff. I’m hungry, and you promised me lunch, but I’m not going with you in that gown.” Gooseflesh rose on her arms. Talk to her. Don’t be stupid. But Steph couldn’t open her mouth. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” Her chest squeezed.

“Let me be the judge.” Molly folded her arms across her chest, resembling a bailiff in a wedding dress.

The picture made Steph laugh. “Okay, but let’s get our clothes on so we can leave. The dresses fit.”

“What’s his name? You never told me.”

“Nick. Nick Davis.”

Molly’s forehead wrinkled. “Nick Davis.” She pressed her index finger to her lips, then shook her head. “I’ve heard his name somewhere. Maybe Brent knows him.” She reached back for the zipper.

“Let me help you.” Steph turned her around, hoping the zipper would bring an end to the conversation.

But Molly twisted her neck and spoke over her shoulder. “Have you been on a date with him?”

A date? Steph was glad Molly couldn’t see her face. “If you call walking the dogs a date, yes.”

Molly slipped her arms from the gown. “Does he like you?”

“Yes, as a friend, but that’s fine. I’m not ready for anything serious.” Her mind flooded with dark thoughts. “First I have to learn to be more attentive to—”

“Stop blaming yourself, Steph.” The gown slipped from Molly’s body and pooled on the white cloth beneath her feet as she spun to face her. “Suicide is a selfish act. It leaves people asking themselves forever what they did wrong and what they might have done to make it better. Doug wanted to die for his own reason. You didn’t. You want to live, and it’s about time you did.”

Steph pressed the phone against her ear. Her fingers knotted around the receiver, and she forced her voice to sound normal, but tension had risen like a tsunami. “Why are you still living with Dad anyway, Hal? You two never got along.”

“That was before. We’ve been getting along until recently.”

She heard something in her brother’s voice that didn’t connect. Hal and her dad had a different set of ethics and values. They never were compatible. “What’s happened now?”

He didn’t respond.

“Are you working?” Steph pursed her lips, waiting to see how he’d wiggle out of that question.

“Why does everything revolve around that?”

A deep breath rattled through her lungs. “Answer me. Are you living off Dad again?”

“I don’t like your attitude, Steph. We haven’t talked in a long time. You’re my sister. I just called to see how you’re doing. I miss you.”

Since when? “I’m okay.”

“I thought maybe I’d come your way. You know, give Dad a few days’ break. Maybe then we’ll see eye to eye when I get back.”

She doubted that. Forget seeing eye to eye; her father probably preferred to see Hal’s hand with a paycheck. “Hal, I think before you visit anyone, you should spend time looking for work.”

“You don’t sound very—”

She lost the end of his sentence when the doorbell rang. Fred let out a yip as he scrambled to the door, flipping a scatter rug across the kitchen floor. “Hal, someone’s at the door. Hang on.”

Steph set the phone on the counter, wishing she’d said she was hanging up. As she approached the door, Fred tripped her, and she shot across the entry, one foot splaying on the hardwood and the other lifting in the air like a hornpiper’s jig. She whacked against the door, cringed and flung it open.

Nick’s mouth gaped. “Are you okay?”

She tried to grin, but she was sure it was a grimace. She beckoned him in. “My brother’s on the phone.” She headed back to the kitchen, keeping her eye out for Fred, with no need. She could hear him prancing around Nick’s legs near the door.

“Sorry, Hal. A neighbor dropped by.”

His deep sigh cut through the line. Steph listened to the silence, waiting.

“I’d better let you go. You have company.”

Her chest filled with air and she released it in one long stream. “All right, Hal, and good luck finding a job.” Her frustration had to be evident.

When she pulled the telephone from her ear, his last words struck her before she disconnected.

“I’ll see you soon.”

See her soon? She couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said. When she turned, Nick stood in the kitchen doorway.

“Bad news?”

She forced her mouth into a pleasant expression. Nick looked great. The May sun had deepened his skin tone to a bronze tan, making his chiseled features even more attractive. “My brother called. He wants to come for a visit, but I know he wants a handout. That’s the only reason he’d come here.”

“If you’re having company, I can leave anytime if you have things to do.”

“He’s not coming today.”

He eyed her, and she sensed he was waiting for an explanation.

“He doesn’t live in Michigan.” She grew silent, thinking about Hal and what he wanted.

Nick remained quiet for a moment and studied her. “You’re absorbed in something.”

“Thinking about my brother. I wish I knew what’s going on.”

“Has he wanted a handout before?”

Memories flooded Steph—times when she convinced Doug to bail him out of a problem and other times she slipped him money rather than ask Doug. That was when she had money to squander. Hal’s loans were really handouts.

“I didn’t mean to meddle.”

Nick’s voice cut through her thoughts. His face filled with concern.

The look squeezed against her heart. “You’re not meddling. It’s nice to have someone to talk with.” She’d talked with Molly so often about her problems, the kind of fun
talking like they’d done earlier that day. She winced, realizing how lonely she’d become without having Molly to herself. Today at the boutique had made the change all too vivid.

Nick was still leaning against the doorjamb, and Steph found her manners. “Let’s sit.” She motioned toward the living room as she moved ahead of him. “By the way, thanks for the rescue Thursday.

“You’re welcome.” He followed her through the archway.

She gestured toward the sofa. “I don’t expect you to bail me out every time I have a run-in with Martin.”

A grin brightened his face as he settled into an easy chair. “You looked as if you needed rescuing.”

She curled her legs up on the sofa. “Maybe I did. I might have dug myself into a deeper hole than Fred made. With all that anger, he could have a stroke.”

Nick’s face blanched, and Steph knew she’d struck a negative cord. Why did she seem to say the wrong thing everywhere she went today? She’d upset Molly, too. “I’m only kidding.”

“I know, but he could if he keeps it up.” He fell silent a moment, then thrust his back from the cushion. “When I walked up Thursday, I could see you’d put Martin in his place. That’s why he became angrier. But he needs people to talk back to him or he’ll never learn.” He looked uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m too close to the problem to do any good.”

“I have the same situation with Hal. I’m his sister, and it’s difficult being objective.”

Nick gave his head a shake. “Speaking of brothers, Martin’s at some kind of a shindig, and he asked me to walk Suzette. As usual, I didn’t say no.” He gave her a hangdog look. “So I dropped by to see if you’d like to take the dogs
for a walk? We could pick up a sandwich or carryout somewhere and eat dinner in the park.”

Steph weighed the possibility. “That sounds nice, Nick. I don’t enjoy eating alone.”

“Me, neither.” His smile lit the room.

She pushed herself from the sofa. “While you go for Suzette, I’ll get ready.”

“It’s a date,” he said.

A date. Molly’s question flew into her mind. Steph didn’t move, watching him stride across the room to the foyer and walk out the door. Doug had been gone for over four years, and this was her first date. A sandwich in the park.

N
ick sat at his office desk, sorting through his mail. As he shifted the piles that needed attention to various slots, a small envelope slipped onto his desk. He placed the new mail into its box, then picked up the invitation and looked inside the envelope, recalling he’d mailed the RSVP card. He’d accepted.

Nick eyed the calendar. Brent Runyan’s wedding. June 6. A jaded feeling settled in his chest. Since Cara had walked out, weddings never seemed the same. The usual joyful occasion left a bad taste in his mouth. How many weddings had he attended since that day? How much self-doubt had he pondered without an answer? What’s more, he hated going to weddings alone. He felt like a drill without a bit. But excuses wouldn’t cut it. He’d be there to celebrate Brent Runyan’s special day. He’d been involved in business dealings with Runyan Industrial Tool Supply since he began his company. He and Brent had become more than acquaintances.

Steph’s image rose in his mind. He could ask her to go to the wedding with him, but it might be too presumptu
ous on his part. Still…June 6. The date loomed over him, and he needed to make a decision. Wasn’t that the day she already had a wedding to attend? He drew up his shoulders, guessing he wouldn’t have asked her anyway.

He liked Steph. A lot. Might she be a woman who would enjoy his company without a romantic commitment? That was the only way he could handle a relationship now. She seemed receptive to talking and walking the dogs. Maybe she’d go for a casual non-date to a wedding?

A smile stole to his lips, thinking of her quirky humor and her fortitude. Martin hadn’t flattened her with his over-bearing manner. She’d been as strong as Martin. Nick wished he could be as resolute with Martin. And she had a heart for animals. He loved her enthusiasm when she worked with Fred or even talked about dogs.

Steph’s heart was filled with kindness and goodness. The thought locked him to the spot. They’d talked about a number of things, yet he’d never heard her talk about her faith, not even a reference to church attendance or the Bible. He knew that people who didn’t believe could be good people, but what about Steph? He lowered his head, admitting he’d never broached the subject.

His faith certainly wasn’t perfect. His brother’s, either. Martin had a devotion to things he valued—their mother, Suzette, his business. But faith? Nick wasn’t certain. Martin didn’t handle life as Jesus would have him do. He was too quick to anger and too unwilling to forgive. His marriage ended in a disaster, and he’d shied away from women since then. Nick questioned if his own singleness was based on the same fear. Marriage meant forever in God’s eyes. Nick saw no room for a mistake.

No matter where his thoughts strayed, they kept returning to Steph. He wanted to get to know her, but he feared
he had little to offer a woman right now. His business took attention, and his finances were tangled in his company. His small apartment couldn’t compare to Steph’s lovely house. And it was paid for, at that.

He winced. Her husband had died, then the house became hers. Not a good way to pay off a mortgage. Loss. He’d had his fill. First he’d lost his dad, and now his mother’s illness left a hole in his heart. Loss didn’t have a timeline. He wondered if Steph still grieved.

Nick pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Why even think of getting involved with a woman in any kind of relationship. And definitely not romance. Time is what it took, and he didn’t know how to use his. He’d learned that lesson from Cara. Time? He shook his head. What was he talking about? Every moment he could he found an excuse to visit Steph. Time wasn’t an issue. So if he didn’t want to get involved, why did he continue to pursue a friendship?

Nick drew in a deep breath, fighting his reaction—pounding heart, racing pulse, heat rising up his chest. The sensations made no sense at all. He and Steph were only acquaintances. Real friendships took years.

The phone jarred his thoughts, and he grasped the receiver. When he heard Martin’s voice, his tension doubled. “What’s up?”

“I’m working late. Could you drop by and check on Suzette’s water and let her out before she tears up the house?”

“The dog needs training or a cage.”

“Cage?” Martin’s voice shot through the line. “I’m not putting her in a cage.”

Nick’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I’ll stop by, but obedience training would be good for her. She needs—”

“I’m in a hurry. Will you or won’t you help me out?”

“I said I would. Just think about what I said.”

Martin muttered something and disconnected while Nick stared at the receiver, realizing the only female truly in his life at the moment was Suzette.

Fred let out an excited yip and startled Steph. “What’s up with you?”

The doorbell rang, answering her question. Curious, Steph peeked out the window. No car in the driveway or in front. She shrugged and strode to the door, expecting a neighbor child soliciting for their school’s fundraiser.

She swung it open and faltered.

“Hi.” His broad grin caught her by surprise. “Just dropped by to see how you’re fairing.”

As always, her pulse skipped up her arm, and she pushed open the screen. “Would you like to come in?”

He strode in without a second thought, and she ushered him into the living room.

Steph eyed him a second. “You’re not here with a subpoena, are you?”

“No subpoena.” He gave her a wink. “Martin’s late, and I have to run some errands so I need to let Suzette out for a run before she tears up the house.”

She motioned for him to sit, and he settled into the easy chair. Today he looked amazing. He wore a sport coat—plaid in shades of brown—with khaki pants, dressier than usual, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “You’re not forgetting a meeting with someone, are you?”

A faint flush appeared on his cheeks.

“Not today. I checked my calendar.” He folded his hands between his knees, and Fred took it as an invitation to sniff his fingers. Nick let him, then unfolded his hands to pet Fred.

“If he’s bothering you, he’ll stop if I tell him.”

“He’s fine.” He continued stroking Fred’s coat. The dog appeared in ecstasy. “Suzette should be this calm.”

“She would with obedience training.” She studied his face, dark eyes, almost bitter chocolate, canopied by a sweep of dark brows and hair the color of cordovan leather. When his gaze caught hers, her pulse skipped.

Nick tilted his head. “She needs it.” He released a lengthy breath. “I doubt if Martin would bother.”

She rolled her eyes, agreeing.

“I came to look at the fence and see what we could do.” He gave Fred’s head another tousle and rose.

“But Fred hasn’t dug since that day. Hopefully, I won’t have any more conflicts with your brother.”

He grinned and motioned toward the backyard. “Let’s take a look anyway.”

Agreeing was easier. She enjoyed his company. Steph led him to the kitchen, then through the sliding door to the patio, hoping whatever he came up with wouldn’t cost a fortune.

Nick headed to the fence. It looked different than when she’d met him two weeks earlier. The stubbled earth now sprouted colorful tulips and golden daffodils along the chain links. Since that day her life had colored as brightly.

Nick probed the ground with a piece of tree limb he’d found in the yard. “Bricks or concrete might do it. Let me see what I can do.” He eyed his brother’s yard, then strode along the fence to the back.

Steph assumed he was looking for places Fred had dug, but she knew her dog. Suzette had stirred up Fred that day just as Nick had affected her. The admission made her nervous. She gazed at Nick’s broad shoulders as he ambled along the fence. His dark hair picked up a sheen from the sunlight, and she pictured his dark brows arching above his glinting eyes. The man lifted her up like no one had in years.

Doug’s death had weighted her with guilt. What could she have done to cause him to take his own life? What could she have done to save him? Those questions had darkened her life for too long. Today she felt buoyant. Hopeful. Even though Nick could easily walk out of her life tomorrow, he’d helped her make strides. She knew now that if she could convince herself she had nothing to do with Doug’s death, she could find happiness again.

“How about a high brick wall?”

Nick turned with a laugh just as Fred started barking.

Steph spun around.

The dog scampered across the yard, chasing a squirrel who dashed up her maple tree. Fred sat below while the critter chittered at him from above.

“The poor squirrel. Fred’ll stay there forever if I let him.” Steph clapped her hands. “Fred, come.”

The dog did a double take, obviously not wanting to leave his post, but he changed his mind and trotted to Steph, his head twisting to make sure the squirrel hadn’t escaped.

“Good dog.” Steph patted his head, wishing she had a treat.

Nick headed toward her, his eyes no longer on the perimeter of the fence but on her. “You’re right. No more digging.”

“Told you.”

He chucked her under the chin. “Suzette’s to blame. A woman can get under a man’s skin and cause him to do things he’s never done before.”

A man could do the same. He could burrow into a woman’s heart and cause her to feel things she hadn’t felt in years.

Nick rested his hand on her arm. “You have a real way with Fred.”

“That’s what obedience training does. It works.” She hoped she made her point.

He backed up, a playful expression spreading across his face. “Yes, but does it work on you?”

“On me?” She searched his eyes.

He clapped his hands. “Steph, come.”

Her feet moved toward him like a magnet. He slipped his hand on her shoulder and gave her a long look. “Good girl.”

Their eyes locked. She couldn’t move. She blinked, her control draining. She broke the connection, but her gaze lowered, drawn to his lips so close she could almost taste them.

“Great job.” He drew back as if he’d felt the same pull of emotion. “You’re almost as good as Fred.”

Steph found her voice. “If that’s so, then where’s my treat?” Did she really say that?

His eyes flashed. “Hmm? Good question.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Do you own a bicycle?”

Her pulse kicked. “A bicycle? I don’t know if I can still ride a bicycle.”

“It’s like walking. Once you’ve learned you never forget.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I can borrow one for you.”

“That’s my treat?”

He laughed. “It’s Memorial Day this weekend. We’ll go on a picnic. How about letting me grill you a steak?”

“So that’s why you came over.” She gave him a feeble smile as he slipped his arm around her shoulder. “I’ve always had a thing for steak.”

“Me, too.” He grew silent, looking into her eyes.

Friendship. He made a great friend, and though she could live without the steak, affection was another story.

Nick maneuvered the bike he’d borrowed for Steph into his SUV and slammed the tailgate. He eyed his watch. Late again. After slipping his cell from his pocket, he
opened the driver’s door with the other hand and swung into the seat. When he’d finally had the brains to ask for Steph’s phone number, he put it into his cell phone, and now he pressed the memory button, shaking his head at his inconsideration. Late should have been his middle name.

The phone rang, and when he heard her voice, his chest tightened. “I know I’m late, but I’m on my way.”

“I understand” is all she said, and that made him feel worse. When he’d been late for his dinner with Al, Nick knew he was irked. But Steph seemed accepting. He didn’t know how to read that. Did she care enough that she forgave him, or didn’t she care enough for it to make a difference?

He slipped the cell into his pocket and backed out of his garage, his mind on the day. He reviewed what he had brought for their picnic—a small grill, charcoal, steaks, bikes and soft drinks. Steph agreed to handle the rest. She was amazing.

The idea of spending the day with her made him smile. No dogs. No time pressure. Fresh air. Time to talk. That’s what he needed. He had so many things to learn about her, and one day he wanted to tell her about his broken engagement, but it opened too many doors right now. Later maybe when he knew how things were going with them. Now they were friends. Friends almost too fast and that scared him.

Her faith. The concern knotted in his mind. He liked her too much. They had things in common—the love of dogs, laughter, pride in their work—but that wasn’t enough. His love for God was primary in his life, and he needed that in his marriage.

Marriage. Where did that come from? His heart had rushed past his good sense. Marriage wasn’t an option until he got his act together and until he felt God’s leading to a life partner. But that’s what bothered him. Nick did feel
something different. He sensed Steph had come into his life for a reason and for a deeper purpose. They had a comfortable relationship together already. When he dropped by, the pleasure sparked in her eyes. But he’d also seen the look of question there, too, and he longed to know what it meant.

Perhaps a widow saw relationships differently. He did, though he’d never walked down the aisle. It had been so close. No matter how hard he tried to forget those feelings, they didn’t vanish completely. Incidences dragged them out, making him question himself and shattering his confidence as a man worthy of a good woman. Rejection imploded the spirit, attacking trust, judgment and assurance. He’d covered his hurt for so long. On the outside, he functioned and went on.

But the inside had been shattered.

Still life went on, and Steph somehow picked up some of the pieces of his life and patched them back together without knowing it. He gazed upward at the bright blue sky—the color of her eyes—and sensed today would be special.

The drive to Steph’s reminded him of too many treks to Martin’s. He’d become his gofer, and though he wanted to be helpful, one day it had to stop.

Nick turned left, and in moments pulled into Steph’s driveway and slipped from the SUV. Fred’s nose pressed against the window welcoming him.

He strode to the doorway and rang the bell. Fred’s excitement sounded through the glass but otherwise silence.