Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son (32 page)

“I don't know,” he told her honestly. “All I know is that when I pray about it, I feel...elated, almost. I think it's something we have to do, have to try.”

“You pray about it,” she said softly, a note of awe in her voice and a faraway look in her eye. “I don't know if Tom ever did that. He was a believer, but I don't know if he ever did that.” She looked up suddenly, smiling, and her face seemed to glow. “I'm glad you pray about it. I will, too, from now on.”

Phillip suddenly wanted to hold her close, to never let her go again. He wanted so much: to offer financial security to Carissa and the kids, for Carissa to love and want him, marriage, family, the whole ball of wax. It was too much to even hope for, let alone ask for. Instead, he mutely nodded, ran his hands down her arms, squeezed her hands in his and left before he made an utter fool of himself.

* * *

Tuesday was a difficult day. The kids seemed to bounce off the walls, so Tucker surprised Phillip when they went to dinner together that evening. He kept himself at the table at the Mexican restaurant, talking and eating a mile a minute, his legs swinging. He talked about everything from Nathan being too bossy and Grace being too giggly to his mom being pretty.

“Anyway, I think she's pretty.”

“She is,” Phillip agreed. “Very pretty.”

“So why don't you marry her?”

“I just might,” Phillip heard himself say, his heartbeat suddenly echoing in his ears.

“When?” Tucker demanded.

“I don't know,” Phillip answered with a nonchalance he didn't feel, “and I said
might.
She'd have to agree, and we're a long way from that. Eat your dinner.”

Tucker forked up a huge bite of beans and rice, then said with a full mouth, “Me and Grace want you to.”

Phillip's chest seemed to expand. He fought the feeling, scooting his chair a little closer to the table. “But Nathan doesn't, does he?”

“I think he might.”

Phillip was surprised by that. Not much he'd done or said had ever met with Nathan's approval, but Phillip couldn't help hoping. “What makes you think so?”

Tucker shrugged. “Things have been better since you been around.”

“Ah,” Phillip said, disappointed. He wanted to ask how things had been better, but he didn't dare. It was likely that all the better things that Tucker and Grace ascribed to him were nothing more than a result of them living at Chatam House. No doubt, Nathan knew it, too. Still, at least Carissa's children had thought of him as a potential mate for her.

Maybe, though, he was too much like her late husband. The idea haunted Phillip, so much so that he had almost convinced himself to ask her when he took Tucker home after their dinner. Carissa was so concerned about how Tucker had behaved during dinner, however, that Phillip found himself reassuring her instead.

“I threatened to tie him to the bed for a week if he so much as left the table tonight,” she said, looking down into Tucker's upturned face.

Phillip chuckled. “He must have taken you at your word, then, because he didn't budge.”

“You're not just saying that?”

“He stayed put,” Phillip told her, ruffling Tucker's hair.

“I'm so glad.” She bent down and touched her nose to Tucker's, saying, “There's hope for you yet, my boy.”

“Mo-om.”

A huff from the direction of the hallway brought Phillip's attention to Nathan, who stood with arms folded, regarding them all, frowning. Phillip put on a smile.

“So where would you like to go for dinner, Nathan?”

“Nowhere.”

“Nathan,” Carissa said warningly.

He rolled his eyes. Phillip tamped down a spurt of irritation mixed with alarm.

“Aw, come on,” he said, “what's your favorite food?”

“Nothing you'd like.”

“Nathan, that's uncalled for,” Carissa warned softly.

The boy sighed then muttered the name of an expensive seafood restaurant that advertised on TV frequently.

Carissa smiled apologetically. “Nathan thinks he likes fish.”

“I do!”

“But the other two aren't too keen on it,” Carissa went on. “In truth, they haven't had much opportunity to eat fish, but Nathan used to eat it occasionally with his dad.”

“He was a
great
fisherman, and we used to eat what he caught,” Nathan insisted.

“He did like a mess of fried catfish,” Carissa said quietly.

“Well, if it's catfish you like, Nathan, there's a great catfish restaurant here in town,” Phillip ventured. “How does that sound?”

“Humph,” Nathan said, and turning his back, he disappeared down the hallway.

He had to do this. He had to try. “How is Friday?”

“I can't imagine why you'd want to do this. You see how he behaves.”

“Has any man spent time with Nathan alone since his dad died?” Phillip asked. She shook her head, shamefaced. “Seems to me that it can't hurt, then.”

She smiled, and they agreed on Friday. Wisely, they agreed not to mention it again to Nathan until Phillip showed up to take him to dinner. Meanwhile, he had the midweek service and the grief support meeting to look forward to.

Who would ever have dreamed that he'd actually look forward to grief support meetings?

Chapter Fourteen

T
hey went to midweek service the next evening at Downtown Bible Church in Carissa's old van. She had made her sales quota early, but the day had not been without calamity. Tucker and Nathan got into a fistfight while Phillip was chatting on the phone with an old surfing buddy. Grace wandered off to play in Odelia's closet again, but at least Phillip knew to look for her there first. All in all, however, Carissa was pleased. Phillip had proved surprisingly laid-back with the children, and despite her personal disappointment where Phillip was concerned, Carissa somehow felt that she could stop holding her breath.

The prayer meeting calmed her nerves even more. What was happening between her and Phillip Chatam might be nothing more than business and casual friendship, but she felt sure that it would ultimately play out to her benefit. She constantly prayed for God to temper her expectations so that she would be open to His will rather than caught up in her own wishes. That way, she feared, lay disappointment and bitterness when she wanted to be open only to obedience and gratitude.

Thursday went so smoothly that she felt a little weird. Phillip showed up during breakfast, which had become the normal routine of the day, and suggested that he and the children would swim in the afternoon
if
they allowed him to make a few phone calls uninterrupted during the morning. They promised to cooperate and then made good on their promises. Even more surprising, Carissa made more than her quota of sales by midafternoon and was able to get up to the computer lab, now fully stocked with equipment, before evening.

While the children played quietly, subdued by their romp in the pool earlier, Carissa and Phillip worked on the initial design of the app. She'd been toying with it, and Phillip's experiences with mountain climbing helped her refine the look and feel of it.

Dallas arrived that evening, joining Phillip and the aunties for dinner, then went up to the master suite to stay with the children while Phillip and Carissa attended the grief support meeting. When they arrived, they found that a new couple had joined the group.

Middle-aged and fit, the Tillotsons were both doctors whose handicapped son had died of natural causes. They had thought themselves well prepared, but his death had taken them by surprise, nonetheless. As everyone shared their stories and encouraged them, Carissa realized that her own grief and fear had truly lessened, thanks to the warmth and support she had experienced from the group.

As the meeting broke, Mrs. Tillotson shocked Carissa when she commented, “I've heard that many couples find each other in grief counseling.” Her gaze swung back and forth between Carissa and Phillip. “I suppose it's as good a way to meet as any.”

Carissa blinked. Phillip, meanwhile, reached across and shook hands with the lady's husband before turning to his uncle, acting as if he hadn't heard the comment. Suddenly, Carissa felt as if she skated on the edge of disappointment, heartbreak a yawning chasm beneath her. She'd told herself over and over that she wouldn't expect more than a business partnership from Phillip, but she'd been fooling herself all along. She wanted more from him. Hoping for anything else was just asking for trouble. So why, oh, why couldn't she stop?

* * *

On Friday evening, Nathan acted as if he was going to a hanging. He dragged his feet and moped, but he accompanied Phillip to his car, got in and allowed himself to be driven to the restaurant, which was located in a picturesque turn-of-the-century house near the Buffalo Creek downtown square. The menu ranged from fried catfish to fried pickles with fried sweet potatoes and fried cheese thrown in to balance things. Nathan didn't like anything except the fish, and he was iffy about that at first. His usual surliness remained unimproved by the experience.

After a while, he asked Phillip, “Why're you doing this?”

Phillip shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, I like catfish.”

“You like my mom more,” Nathan accused.

Phillip just nodded. “I like you, too,” he said.

“Well, I
don't
like you,” Nathan grumbled, “and making me eat fish with you isn't going to change that.”

“What will change it?” Phillip asked.

“Nothing,” Nathan snapped, “because you aren't my dad and you never will be.”

“Nathan, I'm not trying to be your dad,” Phillip said. Unfortunately, he knew the words were a lie the instant they left his mouth. What was he doing if not trying to befriend Carissa's children? Wasn't he trying to prove to himself that he could be good father and husband material?

“I just want my real dad,” Nathan muttered.

They were an awful lot alike, he and Nathan, both wanting something they couldn't have. Nathan wanted his dad back. Phillip wanted to be a different kind of man. The kind who might actually have something to offer this boy and his mother, something more substantial than an occasional dinner out. He didn't even have his own place to live or a regular paycheck. Shouldn't he be able to do anything, for the possibility of making a life with Carissa and her children?

Lord, make me what they need,
he prayed.
Or give me the strength to get out of the way so they can have it with someone else.

They returned to the house in silence. Nathan stared out the window of the car, saying nothing. Phillip let the boy be. His own inadequacies weighed on him like a mountain of rock. He couldn't help remembering the stunned look on Carissa's face the evening before, when Mrs. Tillotson had so casually assumed that they were a couple. It was as if the thought had never occurred to Carissa before that moment. Phillip had felt as if she'd stabbed a hatpin into his forehead, for he had thought of little else since he'd first met her.

Carissa opened the door to the suite before they could even knock, her anxiety obvious. Nathan put her out of her misery, drawling sarcastically, “I told you I liked fish.”

She looked to Phillip. “He ate it, then?”

“A whole platter.”

Nathan gazed up at Phillip then headed toward his bedroom. Carissa called him back with a sharp “Nathan!”

The boy stopped and looked back over his shoulder. Phillip spared him the effort of saying thanks.

“You're welcome.”

Nathan shrugged and went on his way. Phillip felt like all his hopes were disappearing with him. He had to accept that all he would ever have with Carissa Hopper was a business partnership. He prayed fervently that it would turn into something to give Carissa and her kids a bit of financial security. Then he was going to leave, go far away from Chatam House and Buffalo Creek. Meanwhile, he would put his nose to the grindstone.

Over the next week, Phillip picked up fairly quickly on what Carissa was doing—not the code, but the design part of the work. She had an orderly mind but also a cool aesthetic sense when it came to the placement of widgets and buttons and other design elements. He contributed by culling an amazing photo from his own reel, which he then digitized, for use as their icon. She was thrilled with the result and hugged him. The gesture seemed perfectly natural—until they looked up and found all three of the children staring at them. Grace and Tucker grinned at each other, but Nathan stomped off in a huff.

Carissa put a hand to her hair self-consciously. Phillip took a deep, silent breath, suddenly aware that their every gesture was being scrutinized. He didn't realize how much until a throat cleared behind them. Carissa and he whirled around to find his parents standing at the head of the attic stairs. Dallas was with them.

His father waved a patrician hand. “So these are the offices of Chopper Apps, LLC, I presume.”

They had chosen the name Chopper as an amalgam of Chatam and Hopper. It had seemed clever at the time. The way Murdock said it, the name sounded cheesy. Dallas sent Carissa an apologetic glance, even as Maryanne Chatam walked across the floor to stoop before Grace.

“Hello,” she said. “I'm Phillip's mother.”

Grace's eyes grew as round as saucers. Then she put her hands on her knees and started to laugh, pointing at Maryanne.

Maryanne gaped at Phillip, but he didn't have an explanation.

At the same time, Tucker zipped over to Murdock, asking, “You his father?”

“I am...” Murdock cleared his throat. “...Phillip's father. And also Dallas's father.”

“Bffn!” Grace called gleefully, waving at Dallas, who sent her a tiny wave back. Grace covered her mouth with her hand, still laughing at Maryanne.

One look at Carissa's glowing pink face had Phillip on his feet. He walked over and plucked Grace up off the floor. “Just what's so funny, funny face?”

“Your mommy looks like a grandma,” she said.

Maryanne pushed up to her feet, chucked Grace under the chin and said, “I
am
a grandma, young lady, and proud of it. My granddaughter isn't nearly as big as you, but I think you'd like her, because she's adorable.”

“
I'm
adorable,” Grace said confidently, and Carissa gasped, but Phillip had to smile.

“Don't you have a grandmother?” Maryanne asked.

Grace considered this, sighed and said, “I just have a Lexi.”

Before his mother could ask what a “Lexi” was, Phillip set Grace on her feet and gave her a little shove. “Why don't you go downstairs with your mom so I can show my parents around?”

Carissa snapped her fingers, and for once the children responded just as they should, allowing themselves to be herded down the stairs easily. Phillip prepared to be grilled, toasted and roasted.

To his surprise, Dallas lifted a hand and said, “Before this goes one step further, I just want it on the record that Asher is the one who called them.”

Phillip decided he needed to have a long discussion with his brother, but after spending the afternoon with his parents, he decided that he just might have to thank his big brother.

* * *

Murdock and Maryanne were waiting when Carissa returned from church with the children the next day. They sat on the front porch of Chatam House in their Sunday best with a low wrought iron table between them. Phillip stood at the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the thick, white columns, while Dallas swayed idly in the porch swing. Carissa had seen nothing of Phillip or his parents after their unexpected visit to the attic computer lab the day before. She didn't know if that was good or bad, but she feared the worst.

Gulping, she brushed lint from the skirt of her navy blue suit after stepping out from behind the steering wheel of her old van. Hilda and Chester had taken their own car so they could join friends from their Sunday-school class for a potluck luncheon. Before Carissa could instruct them otherwise, the children spilled out of the van on their own, Tucker first, as usual, then Nathan. His gaze darted warily behind his glasses as he helped Grace from her safety seat. Walking around the front end of the vehicle, Carissa knew just how he felt.

Phillip started down the steps as she and the children moved up the walk. Grace skipped toward him, but Carissa snagged her hand, holding her back. He smiled down at the girl before lifting his gaze to Carissa's face.

“My parents and I would like to take you to lunch. To, um, discuss business.” He glanced around, adding quickly, “Dallas and the aunties will watch over the children, if that's all right.”

Heart pounding, Carissa thought,
This is it, then.
She felt sure that his parents had convinced him to drop their partnership. Well, it was for the best. The business was likely destined for failure anyway.

Phillip beckoned to Dallas, saying, “We'd better go. Every church in town will have let out by now. We'll be lucky to get a table in less than an hour.”

“We'll get a table,” Murdock said, appearing at his shoulder. “It's all arranged.” Maryanne stepped up to his side. He took her by the elbow and walked her past Carissa out onto the graveled drive, where a luxury sedan sat.

Carissa looked up at Phillip, took a deep breath and let him lead her toward the car.

Murdock drove straight to the finest Italian restaurant in town, and the proprietor met him at the hostess desk. They were shown to a table in a private room at once. After the drinks were brought and the orders were taken, Phillip sat back in his chair and began to speak.

“Mom and Dad want to invest in our company.”

Carissa's heart stopped. Were they offering to buy her out?

“What do you think?” he asked. “I told them I couldn't accept without consulting you.”

“It would just be a matter of operating capital,” Murdock explained. “Enough so you could open a real office.”

“Or move out on your own,” Maryanne said, with a shake of her head and a droll smile, as if she and Carissa had a secret. “Men are always putting the cart before the horse.”

“I'm not sure I understand.”

“It's not just that we're glad to have him off that mountain,” Murdock rumbled. “This thing really seems to have potential, and Phillip is totally convinced you can pull it off.”

“If anyone can, Carissa can,” Phillip said, smiling at her.

“Some operating capital would mean that you wouldn't have to work the other job,” Maryanne put in meaningfully.

“That decision is Carissa's,” Phillip pointed out. “You were a working mother. You would know how that is.”

“Let's be honest,” Maryanne said bluntly, meeting Carissa's gaze. “I was more than a working mother. I was a career woman with children, and I didn't always get the balance right. It's tough enough when you have a husband and multiple resources at your fingertips. I can't imagine how you manage on your own.”

Stunned, Carissa floundered for a moment before admitting, “Not always well.”

Maryanne looked at Phillip, smiling. “Hopefully, that will change for the better.”