The Carpenter's Daughter (14 page)

Oh, I was sure he hoped she would. I moved out of his arms. “Do whatever you need to do.”

Apparently he thought that was genuine. Or he didn’t care either way. I walked off the dance floor, slid onto my stool, and sipped my Coke that had been delivered while Aiden had cast his line. Pulling my phone out of my stupid girly clutch, I scanned my contacts. Who to call?

Not many choices there. The only one was Dad. I shut my eyes and slumped against the table. That would be the perfect end to the most perfectly horrible first date ever. I could imagine my dad’s scowl as he walked up to this dive, his dark anger stamping a rhythm in his heavy stride. And then there would be the thirty-minute drive home filled with either cold silence or heated words.

Air left my lungs in a long rush, and I leaned against my hand with my elbow propped up on the table. How could I be so stupid? I glanced over to Brenna’s table. They weren’t there. Knowing I shouldn’t look, I did anyway, and I found them huddled in a corner in time to see her pull his head toward hers. He kissed her with a demanding hunger, and she molded herself to his body. The rest…I didn’t want to see. I shut my eyes and turned my head.

So, so stupid.

I stared at my phone, still sitting on the table. I didn’t have a choice. After sliding my finger over the screen, I punched in my pass code as I prepared myself for the worst. It vibrated against the table before I could scroll to Dad’s name.
Incoming call.

I blinked. Seriously? It vibrated again, and I answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sapphira, I was thinking about you.”

Jesse

Somehow good sense left me. I imagined her deep-blue eyes, heard that soft, shy voice in my head, and every ounce of logic vacated my brain. Why else would I call her so late?

Mack told me to fix this. That was what I was doing. And that was all I was doing.

“You were…” She sounded a little breathless, which made my heart do some kind of crazy loop-d-loop.

“Thinking about you.” On a professional basis. A sudden chuckle threatened to rattle my chest. Lying to myself now. Maybe I should go to a doctor. Something was not right with me.

Music echoed in the background of Sarah’s silence. Unexpected. “Whatchya up to?”

I could hear her draw a breath. “Nothing great.” She paused, maybe swallowed. “How about you?”

“I’m kind of your way, actually.” I leaned back against the headboard of the creaky bed. “We’re in Lexington this week.”

A snuffly sound fractured the honky-tonk in the background, like maybe she’d sniffed. Something was off. “Where are you?”

An awkward silence pulled on the line. Then, “You’re in Lexington?”

“Yeah.” I sat up. “Sarah,
where
are you?”

Nothing.

“Sarah, are you okay?”

I could actually hear her gulp. “Can I ask a massive favor?”

Anything. Almost.
No, come to think of it, anything.
“Shoot.”

“I’m in Kearney, at a…club.” Another long breath. “Can you come get me?”

Alarm prickled over my arms. “Yep. Give me an addy, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She sighed. “Thank you.”

Don’t hang up.
“Sarah, I need to know if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Just need a ride.”

Her voice said she was anything but fine.

I changed from my gym shorts to a clean pair of jeans, thanks to Avery’s washing machine, and a fresh T-shirt in less than two minutes. Tugging on my ball cap—which should actually go into the garbage, but it was my favorite, so that wasn’t happening—I left the subpar room and jogged to the gravel parking lot.

Why were there speed limits on the interstate in that part of the world? Even in the dark you could see straight on until forever. And seventy-five, during that drive, didn’t seem like a reasonable limit.

The Kearney exit finally crawled into view, and I lamented the red glow of the stoplight as I eased off the ramp. It was almost eleven at night. Stoplights were not necessary there at eleven at night.

Green finally illuminated my view, and I took the left turn. Maybe a little fast. Or maybe the asphalt was a tiny bit wet—that could account for the squealing tires. Except it hadn’t rained in the last twenty-four hours.

I activated Siri, and she told me where to go, even announcing my arrival when I pulled up in front of the club. A pair of college-aged kids were going at it hot and heavy against the bricks to the left of the entrance, and one glance through the tinted window near the door told me exactly what kind of joint this was.

Nice.

I didn’t have to know Sarah long to know this was not her thing. At all.

The door burst open as I hopped out of my truck, and she suddenly stood in front of me. Whoa. Sapphira. My lungs froze, and I couldn’t help but stare. Same woman. Same beautiful woman. But…wow.

She looked to the ground as her arms wrapped around her bare shoulders.
Shake it off, Jess.
Except I couldn’t make my heart slow to a normal rate. Or my eyes stop gawking at her.

“You look beautiful.”

She tried to smile. “That’s the story.”

Not good. “Are you okay?”

“I already said I was.” Her tone cut hard and then cracked. She tipped her face to look at me. “Sorry. I just really want to go home.”

How did she get there? I slid my inspection over her one more time. She’d been on a date. My arms tensed. Where was the jerk?

The door squeaked behind her, and her body went rigid. I glanced to see a couple stagger out of the entry—probably looking for a room at the shack next door. Her date? Pawing another woman?

My attention fell back on Sarah. She didn’t look behind her. I shouldn’t ask. She wanted to go home. I didn’t need to know the rest. With a long step, I closed the gap of night between us and pulled her into a hug. “Okay, Sapphira. I’ll get you home.”

She held herself stiff for a breath and then leaned into my shoulder. Ignoring the warmth that dumped into my limbs, I rubbed her back and then took a step back. Settling an arm over her shoulders—a buddy hold—I squeezed.

“Did you eat?”

She shrugged. “A little.”

“I’m starving.”

She glanced to the sin trap she’d come out of, and I snorted.

“Not here, Sapphira.” I guided her to my truck and opened the passenger door. “You don’t belong anywhere near this place.”

I thought she’d smile, tell me thanks, but when she glanced my way, anger crossed her expression.

“Do you know where I belong?”

Not really a question, which was good, because I couldn’t string together words for an answer.

She shifted so that her face tilted toward her hands. “That’s what I thought.”

Her lifeless tone sliced at my heart.

Now what? She climbed into the cab, but I couldn’t close her door and drive off after a comment like that. I stood there helpless until she turned her eyes back up to mine. Longing, deeper than a yearning to be held, penetrated her stare.

I covered her hands, which rested together on her lap, with one of my own. Even in the summer’s warm night air, her skin felt cold against my palm. I still didn’t know what to say, but at least she’d know I’d heard her.

God, what do I do?

She slipped her hands away and sniffed. “I’m sorry, Jesse. You don’t have to coddle me.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. They say the need to belong is one of the strongest emotional requirements universal to all of mankind. Didn’t know why I remembered that from my psych classes, but the info hit hard as I watched her search her heart. Suddenly, what I hadn’t paid much attention to in college looked as clear as a cloudless sky in her striking blue eyes. The hunger to belong growled in her soul.

Strangely, I found that I was familiar with that desire.

The thought set me a little dizzy. It didn’t make sense, so I pushed it away. This wasn’t about me.

Recapturing one of her hands, I tipped her chin up with the other. “I’m your friend,” I whispered.

Her lips trembled as she breathed in. She eased away from my touch. “Thanks.”

Window to her soul shut. I dug into my jeans for my keys and set off to take her home, praying, as I pulled into the minimal traffic, that her heart would find the One for whom she longed.

My stomach grumbled as we rolled away from the parking lot. “Drive-through or dine in?”

Sarah pulled her head off her door window. “What?”

“I wasn’t kidding. I’m hungry.” I was a southern guy. Food always fixed stuff, in our approximation. “There’s a Perkins or something up this way, I think. Serves breakfast all night. How ’bout it?”

Her gaze seemed fixed my way, but I got the feeling she wasn’t seeing me. Panic stirred in my chest. What had happened before I called? A red light glowed in the distance, and I slowed my truck. If that guy hurt her…

“Pancakes sound good,” she mumbled.

I turned to search her profile in the dim light. She stared out the windshield. A queasy feeling rolled through my stomach. “Sarah, you gotta tell me if he…”

“Nothing happened.” She didn’t shift. “I just needed a ride, okay?”

Green light. Moving on. “Okay.” I spotted the restaurant on my left and set my turn signal. Sweat beaded along the back of my neck as the silence persisted, long and hot and awkward. I slid my truck into a parking space and shifted into park.

Sarah still hadn’t moved.

I killed the engine. With my fist closed around the metal keys, I reached out and brushed her bare shoulder with my knuckle. She drew a sharp breath.

Yeah, nothing happened. Even if it wasn’t physical, the guy had hurt her. I clenched the keys and swallowed. What could I do about it?

Nothing.

I hopped out of my truck and jogged around to her side. Her feet had already hit the ground. After pushing her door shut, I bumped her shoulder with mine. “What’s it gonna take to make you laugh?”

Her eyes met mine. “Why?”

“It’s good for you.”

She looked away. Man, she was tough.

I dipped my head, peeked at her under the brim on my hat, and pushed out my best pouty lips. One side of her mouth quirked up, and she rolled her eyes.

“Halfway there.” With my index finger, I pushed up the other corner of her mouth. A tiny mouse laugh escaped from her lips.

Good enough. For now.

Sarah

I couldn’t put Jesse Chapman in the same category with Aiden Beck. Didn’t think their blood even ran in the same direction.

Then again, Jesse didn’t have any interest in me…that way. Even if he had just bought me another meal before we headed back toward Minden. As the blank canvas of open darkness slid past my window, Laine’s fair beauty flashed in my mind, and inadequacy sparked irritation afresh. But Jesse had apologized, and I hadn’t returned his call. The shame was on me.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t call you back earlier this week.”

Jesse’s hand drifted over the bench seat toward me but then settled on the empty space between us. “I was wondering.”

Something he would say—usually with a teasing tone. No teasing tone though. Had it really bothered him?

“It was a busy week,” I said.

Liar. More like
I didn’t want to talk to you, because you’d tell me I’d got the wrong impression, that you didn’t mean to make me like you so much…

How much did I like him? My glance drifted to his hand still resting on the seat next to me. A sudden strong urge to feel it wrap around mine sprouted, which bloomed into curiosity. How would it feel to be held by Jesse Chapman? Would his kisses leave me feeling naked and frightened? Or would I feel safe against his chest?

Dumb. I wouldn’t feel anything against him, because I wouldn’t be there. Jesse had much better options, and he didn’t need to use me as bait to snag them.

“I really am sorry, Sapphira.” His sincere voice ripped me out of my imagination.

My attention moved toward his face and collided with his glance. Longing pulled hard. If only he’d…

He didn’t.
Settle that now, before you get hurt.

Before? Too late. I had been hurt—humiliated. That was why I hadn’t called him back. But it wasn’t his fault. I’d been hoping for things I had no business hoping for. Jesse Chapman was way out of my class, and I’d known from the start where I would and wouldn’t stand with him.

Time to clear the air. He was a good guy, and a friend. That was what mattered.

“It’s all right.” I turned to face the dark beyond the windshield. “I’m awkward sometimes, and I don’t always see things the way they are.”

Honesty gone bold. Somehow though, it felt comfortable.

Jesse chuckled. “You and me both.”

Really? I looked back to him, catching his oh-so-friendly smile. If only I could be like him. Comfortable with who he was, he could laugh at himself. Laugh at the rocks in the road rather than stumbling on them. “How come you…” Uh, where was I going with that?
How come life doesn’t run over you?
Yeah, that was pretty much it. Did I dare say it?

He sneaked a quick glance at me. “I…what?”

Dare. It was Jesse, right? I pulled in a lungful of air. “Life doesn’t beat you up.”

He smiled—the
thanks that’s sweet but not true
kind of smile. “I’ve had a few gut shots.”

Oh yeah. Parents dying—not a cotton-ball war. I looked at my hands. “I know you have. I didn’t mean…”

“I know.” His fingers caught mine, squeezed, and then left. Both his hands found the steering wheel and gripped the standard ten-and-two position. “Has anyone ever introduced you to Jesus, Sarah?”

Splat.
Like a june bug smacking against a bumper at sixty. Here I’d opened up my insecure little world, and he was going to Band-Aid it with religion.

“No, I’ve never seen the guy. Hear about Him now and then. But since I’ve never seen Him show up when it mattered, I’ve decided He’s a bit like Prince Charming. All talk. No show.”

Whoa. That was a mouthful for me. A fountain of bitterness had erupted somewhere inside.

“Have you ever actually asked to meet Him?”

“Why would I talk to someone I can’t see?”

“Maybe you haven’t been looking.”

My posture went rigid, and I leaned toward the door. “Where would I look for said hero?”

Jesse leaned forward, his face tilting toward the night sky outside the windshield. “The heavens declare the glory of God…”