Surrendered Hearts (17 page)

A few minutes later, after Tilley had unwrapped all her gifts, Lauren offered everyone refills on coffee.

“Can I have some more cake?” Toby sent his mother a pleading look.

“I think one piece is enough, but you can have a little more ice cream if you want.”

Toby smiled and nodded. Lauren spooned out another small serving for him.

Jenn set aside her empty dessert plate. “Oh, I almost forgot, I have some good news.”

“What’s that?” Tilley asked.

“A reporter from the newspaper called. He wants to interview me.”

“Wow, that’s exciting.” Lauren settled on the couch next to Wes.

A shadow of concern filled Wes’s eyes. “What’s his angle?” Wes was cautious of the media since the distorted story of his imprisonment in the Middle East had been splashed across national news magazines.

“He wants to write an article about me and take pictures of the furniture I’ve been painting.”

Lauren set her coffee cup on the end table. “How did he find out about it?”

“His wife came in the gallery earlier this week. She’s the one who bought the pie safe.”

Bill’s brows rose. “You mean the one we got at the flea market?”

Jenn nodded. “I guess he liked it, too, and now he wants to bring out a photographer and write a story.”

“Great!” Lauren beamed. “So when’s he coming?”

“Tomorrow at two. I hope that’s okay. I should’ve run it by you first.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s your interview.”

Jenn glanced at Bill as she got up. “I’ll be right back.” A couple minutes later, she came downstairs and handed Bill a white envelope. “This is your part of the money from selling the pie safe.”

He stared at the envelope for a second then shook his head. “I can’t take this, Jenn.”

“But we agreed to split the money.”

“All the work you put into it is what made it valuable. Please, keep this.” He put the envelope in her hand. “Use it to buy another piece of furniture or some more paint.”

A slow smile lifted her lips, and appreciation glowed in her eyes. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll reinvest it in another project.”

He felt his heart swell. If only he could make her happy like that every day for the rest of his life.

But the truth rushed in, blowing away the dream. There was no chance of that happening unless God did a miracle in Jenn’s heart.

Did he have the faith to wait for that? Was that what God wanted him to do? He didn’t see many changes yet, just a few hints that her heart might be softening. But wasn’t that what faith was all about . . . waiting and believing even though you don’t see the answer yet?

Jenn reached into the backseat of Lauren’s car and pulled out the round metal container of brownies. She glanced across the parking lot at the nature center. Would she find Bill working in his office, or would he be off in the woods leading a group of children on an outing?

She’d planned to call before she drove over, but when she picked up the phone, her courage melted away. She decided it would be better to just show up. That way she wouldn’t have to hear the indifference in his voice.

She straightened her light-green shirt and brushed a piece of lint off her beige Capri pants. A shiver passed through her even though it was a warm, sunny day. Why was she so nervous? This was just a friendly visit, a chance to reconnect and ask Bill for a little advice.

She scoffed at herself as she crossed the parking lot. It was more than that, and she knew it. She missed him terribly, and ever since the night of Tilley’s birthday celebration, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. She was almost certain she’d felt a special connection between them that evening.

But if that was true, why didn’t he call or come by? What was keeping him away? Maybe she’d just imagined it because of her growing feelings for him.

She pushed open the front door and stepped inside. Her steps slowed as she looked at the mural on the wall opposite the entrance. Memories of the time she spent with Bill planning the project filtered through her mind and warmed her heart.

Clutching the brownie container, she surveyed the room looking for Bill, but she didn’t see him among the dozen or so children and adults scattered around enjoying the interactive exhibits. She glanced into the quiet auditorium but he wasn’t there either.

Mandy and Troy walked into the room and spotted her. Mandy waved. “Hey, Jenn. Are you looking for Wes?”

Jenn’s face warmed as she crossed toward them. “No, actually, I’m looking for Bill. Is he around?”

Troy nodded and pointed over his shoulder. “He’s in the office. But I’ll warn you, he’s not in the best mood.”

She thanked them and slipped down the hall, her stomach doing a nervous dance. She’d rarely seen Bill in a bad mood. What could be bothering him?

Bill’s office door stood halfway open. She peeked in and saw him sitting at his desk, focusing on his computer.

She swallowed and knocked on the doorjamb.

He looked up. Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Jenn.”

“Hi. I thought I’d stop by and bring you some brownies.” She forced a smile and held out the container. Suddenly, her knees felt like limp noodles, and she wasn’t sure how she would make them work.

“Wow, Thanks. That’s nice.” But his kind words didn’t match his troubled expression.

Her face flamed as she crossed the room and set the container on his desk. He obviously wasn’t happy to see her. When was she going to get the point and stop making a fool of herself?

He shifted in his chair. “Do you want to sit down?”

“Okay. Thanks.” She took a seat facing the desk and tried to calm her jittery nerves. “So, did you see the article in the paper on Friday?”

A slight smile lifted one side of his mouth. “Yeah, that was amazing. They gave you most of the page and used all those photos.”

Her tense muscles relaxed a little, and she returned his smile. “The gallery phone has been ringing off the hook. A lot of people are coming in and placing special orders. One lady even brought in an antique trunk she wants me to refinish and paint to match the colors scheme in her bedroom.”

“Wow, all that from the article?”

She nodded. “Lauren’s happy. Sales are twice what they were last week. We stayed up late last night talking about it.” A tremor passed through her as she lifted her gaze and focused on him. “I was planning to go back to Oregon after the wedding, but . . . now I’m thinking about staying.”

His eyes widened and flickered. “Really?”

“Yes.” She studied his face, hope rising in her heart.

But the light in his eyes dimmed, and his cautious expression returned. “You’re staying so you can work with Lauren?”

“Yes. She said I can cut my hours in the gallery after she gets back from their honeymoon. That’ll give me more time to paint and work on those special orders. Maybe I can even develop it into my own business.”

He leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “So you’re going to give up acting?”

His question threw her for a moment. “Well . . . I’m not sure. I might go back to it someday.” Memories of the costumes she’d worn at the dinner theater flashed through her mind. How could she feel comfortable on stage knowing people were staring at her scars?

“So you’ll stay at Long Meadow with Lauren and Wes?”

“Until I save up enough for my own place.”

He watched her with a neutral expression that didn’t give a hint at his feelings.

“So . . . what do you think of the idea?”

He glanced off toward the window. “Why are you asking me?”

“Well, I’m not sure if I’m making the right decision. I was hoping you might help me think it through.”

He crossed his arms and studied her again. “Okay, why wouldn’t you want to stay?”

She bit her thumbnail, pondering his question. “I guess I feel guilty for not using my training as an actress. I spent a lot of money getting my degree and taking voice and dance lessons all those years.

“But then I think of how I feel when I’m painting, and I remember how peoples’ faces light up when they look at my work.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “But what if all this interest in my painting dies down in a few days, and I never sell another piece?’

He leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. “You have a special talent, Jenn. That’s a gift from God. It may take some time to build your reputation, but if you get your work out there, I’m sure people are going to buy it. You can do this if you want to.”

Her confidence rose as she listened, but then her doubts came flooding back. “But what if I’m a total flop? I can’t sponge off Lauren and Wes forever.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment and then looked across at her. “You want to know what I really think?”

“Yes.” She held her breath, hoping he’d say he wanted her to stay, not just so she could paint and start her own business, but because he cared about her and wanted to see where their relationship would go.

He gave her a confident nod. “Whenever I have a tough decision to make, the first thing I do is pray. After that, I talk to people I trust and get their opinions and advice. Then I pray some more and ask God to show me the answer and make it so clear I can’t miss it.”

Jenn stared at him. That was all he had to say? He’d pray about it? Didn’t he care if she stayed? Didn’t he even have an opinion? She lowered her gaze to the floor, fighting back a rising flood of emotion.

She rose from the chair on trembling legs. “Thanks for the advice.” She almost choked on the words, but she got them out, then spun away and strode out the door.

* * * *

Frustration churned Bill’s stomach as he watched Jenn flee his office and disappear down the hall.

He’d obviously upset her again. It must have been his comments about praying for direction.

Closing his eyes, he sighed and ran his hand down his face. What was he supposed to say? She asked him what he would do, and he told her the truth. He’d never make an important decision like that without praying and waiting on the Lord. He wasn’t going to lie to her, no matter how much she didn’t want to hear it.

Recalling the stricken look on her face, he groaned and sank lower in his chair. It didn’t matter if it was the truth. His timing was off—again! He’d spouted off an answer rather than praying and thinking through what was best for Jenn.

Maybe he’d call her later. But he quickly dismissed that idea. What was the point? The huge gulf separating them seemed to be getting wider every time they talked about anything more significant than the weather.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Father, I know You love Jenn even more than I do. You understand what’s going on in her heart, and You know how to reach her. She needs you, Lord. Show me what you want me to do. There’s got to be some way I can help her. Whatever it is, Lord, I’m willing.

He waited quietly, listening for some message or impression to settle in his heart. But the only sound he heard was the wind in the trees. Seconds ticked by as he stared out the window into the forest.

If he had no new direction, then he needed to hold on to the last answer he’d received: wait, pray, and give God time to work. Stay out of it. Nothing had changed. Her visit today had only made him more painfully aware of how much he missed her.

He glanced at the brownie container, and his shoulders sagged. She’d baked him a special treat, and he hadn’t even looked inside or properly thanked her. She must think he was an ungrateful clod.

He pulled off the lid, and the luscious scent of chocolate filled the air. His mouth watered. He picked up a dark-brown, nut-studded brownie and found they were still soft and warm. He took a bite, leaned back in his chair and let the rich chocolate melt on his tongue. If her painting career didn’t take off, she could definitely bake brownies for a living. He would be her best customer.

The phone on Bill’s desk rang. He wiped his hand on his pants and picked it up. “Wild River Nature Center.”

“Bill dear, is that you?”

“Hey, Mom.” His shoulders tensed. His parents didn’t usually call him at work. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, Dad’s a little under the weather with a cold, but other than that, we’re all right.”

“Sorry he’s sick. Tell him I’ll be praying for him.” Bill took a second brownie from the container. “So what’s up?”

“I just had a call from Arleta Wilkins. Her nephew Steve works at Hawk Mountain.”

“At the nature center?” Memories flooded back, making him smile. He’d seen his first eagle on Hawk Mountain when he was eight. He learned how to handle a canoe there, track animals, and mark a trail. The summer he turned sixteen he volunteered and had his first taste of teaching others about the wonder of God’s creation.

His mother’s voice broke through his memories. “The director of the nature center is retiring soon. They’ll be looking for someone to replace him.”

Bill sat up. “Are you sure about that?”

“I guess it’s all still hush, hush. But Steve said it’s probably not too soon to send a résumé.”