Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy #1) (14 page)

“Are you coming?” Sophie asked.
Angela kept her gaze at the front of the sanctuary, where
the pastor greeted churchgoers and the deacon cleared the
empty communion plates. A hundred questions popped into
her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to walk up and ask
them.
“Angie?”
Angela shook her head and turned to Sophie. “I think I’ll
sit here for another minute.”
Sophie hovered, but after a moment she patted Angela’s
shoulder and said, “Alright, there’s coffee and cookies on the
back lawn. I’ll be there. Come find me?”
Angela nodded as Sophie walked away. She focused her
attention back to the pulpit. The pastor and deacon had left, as
did most everyone else.
Except for Cole.
He bid farewell to the man he had been speaking with, both
smiling. Then he turned, his Stetson in his hand. His grin faded
when he noticed Angela sitting alone.
She sat up straighter, rows of empty pews between them,
and thought of what the pastor had said.
Cole had dressed for church, his button-up shirt freshly
pressed. He had also shaven, and across the distance he looked
as he had all those years ago: young and mischievous.
Angela slid out of the pew and stood in the aisle, twisting
the church program in her hand. A nervous tickle in her belly
urged her to close the distance between them.
Cole took the first step.
The pipes of the organ behind her blasted a series of
discorded notes, tearing through the silence of the sanctuary.
It was followed by a child’s giggle and her mother’s irritated
reprimand. The little girl wiggled off the bench and ran into
the lobby, her mother hurrying after.
When Angela turned back to Cole she found him in the
same spot, but engaged in conversation with the pastor. She
walked out of the sanctuary.
Thirteen

Michael flipped the table cloth over the wooden picnic
table and smoothed the corners. In the center he set a basket
that Sophie and Angela had decorated with red, white and blue
ribbons.

“Ten down, about a million more to go.” Sophie smiled
and fanned herself with a stack of napkins, handing him
another folded table cloth.

Michael took the cloth and went to the next table. “Think
the clouds’ll get outta here before tonight?”
“Hope so.” Sophie looked up. “It’d be nice to ditch this
humidity and we can’t have fireworks if it rains.”
A
dozen other people hummed around
them, doing
everything from setting up the outdoor stage to arranging the
stuffed animal prizes in the game booths. His sister had
enlisted his services to help out with the Fourth of July
festivities, without much consent from him. He didn’t mind,
even if it was bad luck that he had gotten paired up with Sophie
on this task.
Then again, maybe his luck wasn’t all that bad. She wore a
pretty blue dress that matched her eyes. It was short with puffy
white tufts over the shoulders. He leaned to smooth the next
checkered cloth, and he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of
her toned legs and little white flip-flops. Of all there was to like
about Sophie, those simple flip-flops were the most appealing.
She handed him another basket and moved on to the next
table, her eyes refusing to meet his.
“So I hear you’re leaving after this,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, tomorrow. I have to get back home.”
“Michael,” she stopped working and raised her big blue
eyes to him. “That girl I saw you with-”
“Nothing happened.”
Sophie’s lips curved into a smile, but there was no
happiness in her eyes. She and Michael silently resumed their
work, the awkwardness thicker than the humid air around
them.
After a few moments, Sophie stopped working again.
“Because if you did, it’s all right.”
“I didn’t sleep with her, and if I did, it wouldn’t have been
all right, Sophie.”
She raised a shoulder to her ear. “Maybe not.”
He leaned over the table and set the heels of his hands on
the edge of it. “You’re gonna make me say it out loud, aren’t
you?”
She laughed. “You know you like me. You might as well
admit it!”
“Fine.” Feigning irritation, Michael rounded his shoulders.
“I like you, Sophie Alexander.”
“I knew it.” She winked and patted his cheek. “Are you
going to kiss me, or do I have to wait another twenty years for
that, too?”
“Twenty years?” He rounded the table and wrapped his
arms around her. “You’ve been waiting for me that long?”
“Don’t get a big head,” she laughed, “I had a crush on you
when I was thirteen. It’s not like I’ve been thinking of you
kissing me all these years.”
“But you’re thinking of it now.” He grinned and kissed her
cheek.
“Oh, yeah, I’m thinking of it now.”
“Do you have any idea how annoying you’ve been?”
Michael kissed her other cheek, and then her nose.
“Yes, I’m annoying,” Sophie said, faking exasperation, “it’s
a well-known fact here in Grace. However, I’m not the one
being a tease. And
that
is annoying
me
. So if you don’t kiss me
on the lips right now I’m-”
“Demanding too,” Michael muttered, and then kissed her
lips.
“Hey, you two, none of that. There is a child present.”
Michael and Sophie grinned foolishly at each other. He
turned to Tina and tossed her one of the folded table cloths.
“Afraid we might warp your little mind?”
Tina caught the cloth and scoffed, “Oh please. First of all,
my mind is not little anymore. And second of all, I’m already
warped. I'm a teenager, remember?”
The three got back to work, but Michael couldn’t keep his
eyes off Sophie. He wished he hadn’t waited so long to kiss
her. In a little more than twenty-four hours he was going to be
on a plane heading home. And he’d miss those big blue eyes of
hers.
****
Angela knelt on the stage she’d helped set up at the town
square and ripped a strip of duct tape from its roll. She glanced
across the lawn at Michael, who sauntered toward her with a
smile as big as the Cheshire cat’s.
“Good. You’re here,” she said, patting tape over some
cords. “I need your help. Have you seen Tina?”
“She’s helping Sophie finish the picnic tables. I came to see
if you needed help.” Michael stepped onto the stage and took
the microphone stand from Angela when she handed it to him.
“Set that there in the center.” She picked up a coil of cords
and tossed it to a technician standing in back.
The clouds hovered low, keeping the wet heat locked in.
Angela sighed, thinking of the outdoor concert and fireworks
show that would be ruined if it rained. At least her feeble
garden would get a good watering.
“You okay Angie? You seem distracted.”
“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just busy. People are starting to arrive
and I still need to make sure the horses are here and ready for
the kiddie rides.” She stepped off the stage. “You seem a bit
distracted yourself.”
He grinned. “Sophie.”
“Sophie? As in you and Sophie?”
“Yep. Me and Sophie.” He shrugged. The grin widened.
“She wore you down?”
“I’m a weak man, sis.”
“Congrats.” She forced a smile and stepped off the stage.
“Help Paul set up the speakers, will you? I need to get Tina so
she can help me with the horses.”
She took off at a jog toward the picnic area. People already
filled the tables with laughter and chatter. Soon there’d be
enough deep fried food to feed the whole lot of them, and the
dozens more who were sure to arrive. Children played in the
grass field and paper fans were waved all about to stir the
stagnant, sticky air.
Scanning the area, she found Tina standing beneath a large
maple tree with Billy, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Come on,” Angela heard Billy say as she walked closer to
them. He pulled at Tina, but she kept her arms stubbornly
crossed, her feet planted. “This is lame. Come with us to the
quarry.”
“I helped put all this together. I want to stay.”
“Whatever.” He let go. “Do what you want.”
“Billy!” Tina called after him, but he ignored her and
walked on.
“You can go if you want to,” Angela offered, standing at
her side. "We can manage."
“I don’t want to go.” Tina snapped, her gaze on Billy until
he disappeared between some buildings. She turned to Angela.
“Sorry. He doesn’t like this sort of thing.”
“He wasn’t very nice about it,” Angela said.
“Billy loves me.” Tina’s voice softened. She rolled her
shoulders back and smiled. “He’s just moody sometimes.”
“Well someone should tell him to take that stick out of his
behind,” Sophie said, walking up to them with an armful of
baskets and a package of napkins. She shoved the baskets at
Angela and the napkins at Tina.
Tina shot Angela and Sophie a caustic look. “Drop it,
okay? Let’s finish this and then I’ll help you with the kiddie
horses.”
By mid-morning the setup work was done. The clouds
departed enough to let the sun poke through, but the heat
intensified. Angela and Sophie had just finished their hot dogs
when Mrs. Bradley rushed through the crowd, her arms held
out in front of her as if she were prepared to push anyone aside
who got in her way.
“Angie! Angie, we need you!” By the time she reached their
table she was out of breath.
“They’re judging the pie eating contest in a few minutes
and Jerry had to go home,” Mrs. Bradley huffed. “The man’s
got a gut that can hold just about anything, but three corndogs
and a whole vat of cotton candy was a bit much for him. We
need you to fill in.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t eat a whole pie.” Angela’s stomach
turned at thought of it.
“No, no, no.” Mrs. Bradley shook her head and laughed.
“Jerry was one of the judges. He got sick. We need you to take
his place judging the contest.”
“Oh, all right then.” She turned to Sophie. “Will you come
with me?”
“As much as I excite at the idea of seeing grown men
glutton themselves, I have to help out at the dunk tank.” She
stood and gathered both hers and Angela’s paper baskets to
discard. “Enjoy!”
Angela waved as Sophie walked away and Cole came up
behind Mrs. Bradley, setting a hand on her shoulder. “Mrs.
Bradley, you look beautiful today.”
The older woman blushed, nearly swooning as Cole kissed
her cheek. “Such a charmer you are, Cole.”
“Then you’ll save me a banana cream pie?” he asked.
“I’ll save you two. Baked ‘em myself.”
Cole looked heavenward and sighed in appreciation. “I
think I love you.”
Angela couldn’t help that giddy roll in her tummy when his
gaze met hers.
“Angie’s going to help us judge the contest.” Mrs. Bradley
beamed at them both.
Cole smiled at Angela, his eyes speaking of the moments
they’d had together and the distance between them.
“Let’s go dear,” Mrs. Bradley tugged on her arm. “They’re
starting in few minutes.”
****
“I didn’t think it was possible,” Angela said, laughing as
she and Mrs. Bradley walked away from the judging table and
toward a
group of
chairs
beneath the oak tree on the
courthouse lawn. “Absolutely disgusting.”
“Imagine, five pies. Goodness, I don’t think I’ve eaten a
total of five pies in five years." Mrs. Bradley set the two pies
she had saved for Cole into a cooler. She collected her knitting
and sat down beside Maisy Markey, who looked up from the
book she had been reading.
"Bruce'll be sick for sure," Maisy said, closing the book and
laying it on her lap. "But a side of beef from Mr. Simpson's
Butcher Shop should tide him over for a good six months. My,
it was nice of Donny to donate such a lovely prize. Why don’t
you have a seat, Angie dear?”
“Oh, I should go make sure the stage is ready for the
concert.”
“Now, don’t run off. You’ve done enough today. Have a
seat,” Maisy insisted, “and tell me how your flowers doing.”
Angela gave in and sat down. “Better. The fertilizer did the
trick.”
“It’s amazing what a little crap will do.” Mrs. Bradley
chimed in, not taking her eyes from her knitting. “It stinks and
it’s messy to work with, but in the end you sure do get a pretty
garden.”
“Speaking of pretty,” Maisy said, “you got a nice glow
about you today, Angie. That man of yours must be doing
something right. Oh, now, don’t start that blushing.”
Mrs. Bradley peered at Angela momentarily over the top of
her rose colored spectacles and then looked back down to
continue her knitting.
“I’m telling you, Joan,” Maisy said, “Cole’s got himself a
winner here. What did I say about these two?”
“Why, you said they were just about right for each other.”
Mrs. Bradley responded, amusement infused in her voice. “If
anyone can get that Jordan boy to settle, it’s our Angie.”
Angela shook her head. “Cole and I are just business
partners. And friends.”
She pretended not to notice when the old ladies smiled
knowingly at each other.
****
Hours later, as the sun dipped low and the sky gave way to
night, the town gathered near the stage on the lawn of the City
Hall building. A wood floor lay in front for dancing and the
turrets and stone of the century-old building rose up behind
the stage, shading it from the setting sun.
Angela stood to the side, beside the oak tree as her cohorts
packed up to “leave the ruckus to the young ones,” as Maisy
had tsked moments earlier.
The band took the stage amidst applause from the crowd,
their first song heavy on the banjo and violin. People all around
the stage cheered and hollered beneath the glow of stringed
lights and rust-tinted clouds. Angela was content to watch
from afar.
She hadn’t been looking for him, but she noticed him
anyway. He stood on the other side of the dance floor, laughing
with Ralph. As though sensing her stare, his eyes found hers
across the space, through the throng of dancers and the flicker
of children’s sparklers. His smile faded. He said something to
his companion, tipped his hat, and walked toward Angela.
The musical number sobered. The banjo went to its stand,
and someone pulled out an acoustic guitar. The drummer set
the rhythm, and then the guitar joined in.
Cole came to her, his hand extended.
“Dance with me?”
“Cole.”
“It’s just a dance. Not a marriage proposal.” He winked,
his lips curving into mischievous smile, as if he were tempted
to add
not yet
, just to tease her.
She took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance
floor. Mrs. Bradley gasped and patted Mrs. Markey on the
shoulder three times to get her attention. Mrs. Markey looked
up and held her thumb high in the air, her wrinkled face
stretched with a lipstick-smeared smile.
Angela turned away from them, feeling the heat rise to her
hair line as she and Cole stepped onto the dance floor. She set
her hand on Cole’s shoulder, the hand of his casted arm at her
waist, the other curved in hers.
"You're friends seem curious." He chuckled and jerked his
head toward the oak tree. Joan and Maisy watched them from
behind it, doing a poor job of hiding the fact that they were
spying.
Maisy gave another thumbs up – this time with both hands
– when she caught Angela looking. Joan shook her head and
swatted at Maisy's hands. Then the pair walked away.
“Are you blushing Miz Donnelly?”
“People are staring. Not just them. Other people.”
“So?” He smiled wickedly and wiggled his eyebrows.
“Maybe we should give ‘em something to see?”
He leaned in, but she arched back. “Just stay on your side,
pal.”
“Fine.” He pulled her closer and spun her around.
He smelled good, his skin warmed from the heat of the air.
“It was good to see you at church this morning.”
“Sophie dragged me,” Angela rolled her eyes, but she
smiled. “I ran into Mitzi and Joanne.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Some things just haven’t changed around here.
Same hymns, same church, same corner store on Maple and
Eight. Same Mitzi and Joanne.”
“Nah, things changed. For instance, that’s new.” Cole
jerked his chin toward Michael and Sophie. The two of them
stood in the center of the dance floor, mooning over each
other instead of dancing. “What’s going on there?”
“They’re together.”
“Just like that?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” She couldn’t look him in the eye, so
she focused on a tuft of hair curved around his ear. “It took
her almost a week to wear him down. That's a long time
according to Sophie's timetable.”