Paula exited the plane and hurried through the hallway to the airport. David would be waiting for her, and she’d missed him more in the last two and a half weeks than she cared to admit, even to herself. Between her being swamped at work and the out-of-town conference David had attended the weekend before, getting together had been impossible.
When she passed security, she saw him leaning against the tourist booth. She felt her mouth stretch into a smile as their eyes met.
When she neared, he folded her in his arms. “Hey, baby.”
Paula let her bag drop to the floor and enjoyed the feel of his strong arms around her. “I’m so glad to see you.” She’d almost said she was glad to be home, but that wasn’t true. When it came to the location, she’d rather be in Chicago any day. It was her husband’s presence she missed—not this town.
He grabbed her carry-on, and she followed him out to the Escalade. Darkness obscured the distant mountains, but lamps lit their way as they crunched through patches of snow. The parking lot was chalked by the salt they’d used to clear the snow and ice, and Paula guessed there were four or five inches of snow on the ground. Even so, the cold air was still stagnant, not gusting and tugging every which way on her hair the way it did in Chicago.
Once they were settled in the vehicle, David picked her hand up off her lap and drew it to his lips. He planted a tender kiss. “I missed you.”
“Two weeks is too long.” Phone calls and e-mails just weren’t the same as being together. Especially when their marriage felt as new as newlyweds.
Feeling playful and slightly giddy in his presence, she widened her eyes in naiveté. “Whatever are we going to do with two whole days?”
She loved the way his eyes fell to her lips. “I’m pretty sure I can come up with a couple of hundred ideas.”
“Do tell.” She couldn’t smother the smile if she tried. It was so good to be with David. She’d missed their banter.
“I’d rather show.”
Paula laughed. Being with David now was just like old times, and she hoped it would stay this way forever. As hard as the times had been lately, the events had brought them closer together. She supposed she should be thankful for that.
David caught her up on his real-estate transactions and the goings-on at JH Realty, and then he turned the discussion toward her. “Is Linn all settled in at the apartment?”
When she’d told David the day before that she was letting Linn move in, David had been a little wary. But Paula had explained Linn’s situation, and he seemed OK with the idea.
“She brought her stuff over today on my lunch hour, and I gave her a key. Nothing like getting a guest settled in, then leaving town.”
“Are you sure you trust her?”
Paula shrugged. “I’m sure Nat wouldn’t set me up with a convicted felon.”
“I know. I just worry about you.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m a big girl. Oh, I didn’t have time to tell you yesterday about losing my file.”
“What file?” David guided the car out of the parking lot and toward Jackson.
“All my notes on the Morgan story disappeared from my program. I saved it Wednesday night, but when I tried to open it yesterday, it was gone.”
“Do you have a backup?” He nudged his glasses up.
“Unfortunately, no. But you can bet I’ll be backing up in the future.”
“So what was it you lost exactly?”
When she reflected about the valuable information she’d lost, weight like a rock settled in her stomach. “Everything I had on the Morgan story. All the notes from all the interviews. All my questions about inconsistencies. In short, everything I need to help find answers for the Morgans.” She shook her head. “Stupid. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“Are you going to drop the story, then?”
She sighed. “I can’t. The Morgans want desperately to know the truth. Plus, if I can solve this, wow—talk about a career boost. It wouldn’t just guarantee me the anchor chair; it might open other doors in the future. All the other reporters at WMAQ know their chances at the anchor spot are very narrow now.”
When David didn’t respond, she could almost feel the tension stacking up between them like cement blocks. It was the mention of the anchor chair. Why did she bring it up? That promotion would get her permanently planted in Chicago, and where would that leave her and David?
“But,” she said quickly, “now that I’ve lost all my notes, I’m way behind a bunch of other reporters who’ve covered the story. Who knows how many of them are looking into this? It’ll be a miracle if I can solve it first now.”
When David remained quiet, Paula thought she’d better move on to another topic before she ruined their weekend.
But David spoke first. “Is it possible someone deleted that file, Paula?” He glanced at her as they drove into Jackson.
She didn’t want to worry him, but she didn’t want to lie either.
You mean lie again.
She pushed the thought away. “It occurred to me. But you know how I am with computers, hon. I’m an accident waiting to happen.”
“What about the reporter, Darrick?”
“For that matter, there’s the two weekend anchors, Roxy and Jaron, who are up for the same anchor spot. But I’m sure it’s nothing like that. They wouldn’t have known I didn’t have a backup file at the apartment or something.”
Ahead the lights on the Snow King’s slope brought back memories of New Year’s Eve. She and David had skied for three hours, and she’d enjoyed every minute of it. The next day she’d paid for it with sore calves and thighs.
“You know,” David said, “that makes me worried for your safety. What if one of your competitors did delete that file, and they think you have a copy of it at your apartment?”
Though the thought of it gave her goose bumps, Paula smiled. “Yeah, and they arranged for Linn to work her way into my apartment to sabotage my story.” She laughed. “David, this isn’t CSI, for heaven’s sake.”
“Didn’t you say you got a wacky note from some guy?”
“I said ‘kid.’ It had to be a kid. His spelling was atrocious.” She remembered the second note she found only a few days before. It also had a spelling error, and it, too, could have come from a kid.
“You haven’t received any more, have you?” David’s brow was knit with concern.
She bit the inside of her lip. The last thing she wanted was David worrying about her in Chicago. He already had half a dozen reasons why she shouldn’t be there. Still, she wanted to be honest with him. “I did get one this week.”
“And you weren’t going to say anything?” His voice crescendoed.
Paula felt the prickling heat of guilt. She had wanted to hide it. “I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily, hon. It’s just a kid.”
“What did it say?” He turned up the winding street that led to their home.
She thought back to the note that she could remember word for word. “Not much. He referred to his poem and said I was pretty.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing. Darrick says this kind of thing happens all the time.”
“Maybe so, but it seems weird to me. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
The seriousness of his tone wiped the smile from her face. “Nothing’s going to happen, David. You’ll see.”
Linn hurried as fast as she could down the icy sidewalk. She and Adam worked until closing, which always made catching the bus a close call. But tonight Adam had been talking with Joe in his office, and that left Linn to cover the register. Now she was going to miss the last bus to the apartment if she didn’t hurry. She rounded the corner to see the bus pulling away from the curb. Smoke curled out of the tailpipe and disappeared like a vapor.
“No!” She stopped in her tracks and stomped a foot. She did it again for good measure. “This is not happening.” She threw her head back and sighed. In the glow of the streetlights, tiny flurries wafted toward the ground.
How was she going to get home now? A taxi? She had about forty dollars in her bag, but that was supposed to get her through the next week.
She stuffed her hands into her pockets and hunched her shoulders against the cold. Think, Linn. Think.
She could call Paula, but she didn’t want to. The woman had practically taken her in off the streets, and Linn was determined not to be a nuisance.
She couldn’t go back to the shop and ask Adam. Just working with him was hard enough, without being alone in a dark car for twenty minutes. Her skin went warm all over at the thought of him, and she huffed, impatient with herself. She had to stop thinking about him all the time. This silly infatuation was getting her nowhere. Hiding her feelings from him was wearing her out. She’d been irritable with him the past few weeks, and she knew it was unfair. But she’d taken Natalie’s husband away from her, and that had been so wrong. She wasn’t going to stoop again to taking another woman’s man.
Maybe she should look for another job. But where would she find the time for that? Her classes, job, and studying were taking up every minute of the day.
“Miss it?”
She spun at the voice. Her hands darted out of her pockets and clutched her purse.
At the sight of Adam, her body went limp and a thousand tingles shot down her arms as the adrenaline surge faded away. “You scared me.” It was an accusation, and her words were sharper than she’d intended.
“Sorry,” he said. His lips moved into a wry grin. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
How could she be angry at him when he looked so sincere? “That’s OK.”
His nose was already pink from the cold. “Did you miss the bus?”
She nodded. “I was just headed back to the shop to call someone.” Yeah, like she had a whole slew of friends waiting in line to help her out. To confirm her story, she started walking toward the coffee shop. She’d have to call a taxi. If it cost too much, she’d have to call Paula after all.
“I can give you a lift.” Adam shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.
Like she needed time alone with Adam. “That’s OK.” She quickened her steps.
“Really, it’s no problem. Practically right on my way.”
“I said no, Adam.” She cringed at the harsh tone. Her heart was racing faster than her mind, and her mind was in a dizzying tailspin. It was driving her crazy working with him every evening. Having him reach around her and brush against her in the cramped workspace behind the counter. It was wreaking havoc with her peace of mind.
And he didn’t even know it. But she could hardly tell him, either.
“Did I do something wrong?”
His words nearly broke her heart in two. She’d been snippy and crabby with him lately, and you’d think he’d have written her off. Wouldn’t most guys? Wouldn’t they make some flip comment about the time of month and tell her to take a flying leap?
But not Adam. No, Adam had only given her space when she’d bristled and curious looks when she’d snapped at him.
“ ’Cause if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know,” he was saying.
“You haven’t done anything, Adam.” Her feet couldn’t move fast enough. If they could get back to the shop, he’d leave and she’d be safe from the feelings that were bubbling up in her.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. She looked into his eyes. She couldn’t help it.
“Then let me take you home,” he said. “It’s my fault you missed the bus. If I’d been out front where I should’ve been, you wouldn’t have been late.”
His eyes were squinted against the cold wind, and a few flurries had landed on his eyelashes. He was so good, inside and out. He didn’t deserve her moody attitude. She could accept a simple car ride, couldn’t she? For twenty minutes she could keep her mind occupied with something else and forget he was sitting eighteen inches away.
“All right.” Anticipation stirred inside her in a way that both excited and frightened her. What was she doing? Why was her heart so rebellious, always falling for someone she couldn’t have? She should have learned by now that this road only led to pain and heartache.
When they reached Adam’s car, he opened the door for her and she slipped inside.
You can do this, Linn. Just make small talk all the way, and everything will be fine.
Then why did her mouth suddenly feel like it was stuffed with cotton?
Help me, God.
As Adam settled behind the wheel, the car filled with the musky scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of leather. It was like breathing in Adam. She wished she could plug her nose, or better yet, hang her head outside the window for the full ride. She imagined her brows and eyelashes turning white with frost, her face frozen in a smiling mask.
No, Adam, I’m fine. Just needed some fresh air.
She had to get a grip. Act nonchalant. This was no big deal.
Adam turned out of the parking lot and headed toward the apartment. She’d told him the week before that she was moving in with Paula, and he’d known exactly where the building was located.
There wasn’t much traffic this time of night so they made record time. Why was a part of her disappointed at the thought? She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
Adam started talking about a story that was on the local news the day before, and Linn told him Paula was a news reporter. They talked about her living situation, and Linn described the apartment. Afterward Adam told her funny stories about the roommate he’d had in undergrad school. He had her laughing until her jaws were aching.
Just when she thought she’d get a side stitch, he changed the subject. “Remember the last time I took you home?”
She remembered. She’d been scared to death, walking down the sidewalk so late at night. Then those boys drove by, calling out to her. She decided to take her chances on Adam.
“I almost didn’t stop because I figured you’d be afraid to hitch a ride with a stranger.”
She smiled at him. “You looked trustworthy enough. Besides, if I hadn’t taken the ride, I wouldn’t have gotten the job at Java Joe.”
“Still, you shouldn’t hitch rides from strangers.”
“Yes, Dad.”
His hands twisted on the steering wheel, and he appeared to focus on the pavement in front of them. “I’m hardly old enough to be your dad.”
Though his words were spoken lightly, she thought she detected a bit of sensitivity. “I was kidding. You can’t be more than twenty-four.”
“Twenty-six, actually.”
She almost made a joke about old age but refrained since he seemed sensitive about it.
“What are you, all of eighteen?”
Was it her imagination, or did his words seem weighted? “Nineteen.” She wondered why he cared. His tone made it seem like more than casual conversation. She suddenly wished she were five years older and a lifetime purer.
“Nineteen. Man, that seems forever ago. You’re just starting out. Old enough to make choices and young enough to have no regrets.”
Maybe he’d had no regrets when he was nineteen, but she had enough of them to fill Wrigley Field. And she still felt chained by them sometimes. No, not chained. More like they’d tinted her a different color. If they’d tinted her charcoal gray, Adam was tinted off-white. So was Elizabeth, no doubt.
She studied the tall buildings as they drove through town. She wondered if she’d ever be able to afford living in this section of town. Maybe someday—when she was a psychologist and had a great job in a nice office. She could see herself living in a studio apartment in the city.
“So you’re glad you hitched a ride with me that day, huh?” He smiled at her, but she averted her eyes before his gaze caught her and trapped her.
“I thought you were a preacher or something.”
He laughed. “Am I already giving off preacher signals? Was it something I said?”
“No, it was your notes. You took out your notebook to write down my number, and I saw some words that clued me in.”
“And that didn’t scare you off?”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little. I was desperate for a job, though.”
“Aw, thanks.”
She began to relax. Maybe she could survive this trip after all. “Well, you have to admit preachers can be a little intimidating.”
“We’re just regular people.”
“I know that, but somehow a man of God is set apart from everyone else. At least in my mind.”
When he paused, she wondered if she’d said something wrong. He was the first pastor she knew personally. Even if he wasn’t quite a pastor yet.
Adam’s face clouded. “I wish it wasn’t like that. I can’t live up to impossibly high standards any more than anyone else. I’m human; I’m going to fail. God is the only One who’s perfect.”
“I know that. I think everyone knows that, but still there’s that high expectation.”
He frowned. “It’s a lot of pressure. More is expected of me than I feel like I can deliver sometimes.”
“Adam, you’re worrying for nothing. I’ve been totally impressed with you, and I’ve spent an awful lot of time with you the past five weeks. I’ve seen you stay cool when you’ve been provoked and think of others when it inconveniences you. You’re going to make a great pastor.”
When he didn’t respond, she studied his profile. He stared out the front windshield, his mouth drawn into a straight line, his brows drawn together. He seemed unsure of himself, and that surprised her. Adam always seemed like he had it together. He was always protecting and picking up everyone’s spirit.
“Are you worried you won’t make a good pastor?”
Even as she asked the question, she was aware that this was their first serious conversation. They’d never talked about anything deeper than smoothies and lattes.
“Some,” he said slowly. “Mostly I’m just confused about life in general.”
Linn had never seen this serious, thoughtful side of Adam. He seemed almost vulnerable.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He was drawing her in, and she wanted to get inside his head and know what he was thinking. What made worry lines spread across his face? What made him roar with laughter?
“How do we know what we’re supposed to do? I mean, I know we’re supposed to follow God’s will for our lives, that’s a given. But how do we know what that is?” Adam shook his head. “Sometimes I feel so sure I’m doing what God wants. Then something happens, and I think I’ve made the wrong decision.”
It surprised her that Adam had these insecurities. He seemed like a steel tower all the time.
“I go through that confusion sometimes too,” she admitted. “I thought it was because I’m kind of new at this Christian stuff.”
He gave a wry laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve been in church all my life and a Christian since the age of seven, but sometimes I feel like I don’t know anything.”
She wished he’d be more specific. He wanted answers but wasn’t giving her anything to go on.
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Linn said. “You probably knew more about the Bible at ten than I know now.”
He parked the car by the curb, and Linn was surprised to see they were already at the apartment. Surprised and dismayed.
“I’m not talking about Scripture necessarily,” Adam said. “I’m talking about knowing what God wants us to do. Sometimes there are two—or maybe even more—options. None of them are wrong or evil, just different. How do we know which one God wants for us?”
Linn rested her head against the back of the car seat. She couldn’t believe a seminary student imagined for even a second that she might have answers. “I don’t know, Adam.”
He put the car in park and shifted toward her. “I mean, we can pray and look at circumstances and read the Bible and think it’s all pointing one direction, then boom. Everything changes and we start thinking we made the wrong choice.”
Linn turned to look at him. His coat collar was flipped up on one side and down on the other, and even in the shadowed car she could see the lines of distress between his brows.
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s a matter of following your heart.”
When his eyes swung toward hers, Linn’s insides became as hot as a wood stove. His gaze lingered so long that the moment became intense and awkward. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What did it mean? She searched for something to say to break the tension, but all coherent thought ground to a stop.
Finally he looked away. “Feelings can be misleading sometimes.”
She started breathing again, only now aware she’d been holding her breath. Why did he stare at her for so long? People didn’t do that unless it meant something. Or was he only gathering his thoughts and hadn’t realized he was staring at all?
“Feelings can be misleading sometimes,” he’d said.
Boy, was that ever true. She’d just made one little glance out to be something significant when he probably was unaware it had even happened. What an idiot she was.
She cleared her throat. “You’re right. Feelings can be totally misleading.” She remembered all too well feeling like it was so right for her and Keith to be together. Even though she knew he was married. He convinced her that his wife was horrible and his marriage was a farce. And she believed him. Believed those feelings he stirred up in her were right.
“Then what are we supposed to go on if not feelings?” Adam asked.
She was so new at Christianity. She wanted to give him answers, but what could she know that he didn’t? Even as she asked the question, she remembered a story from her past that might apply.
“When I was little, maybe five or six, I wanted a dog really bad. But we had this tiny house and yard, and my mom kept telling me we couldn’t have one. I’m sure I drove her nuts about it. One day she started talking about the pet gerbil she’d had as a child. She made it sound so neat, and before I knew it, I’d forgotten all about wanting a dog. I wanted a gerbil more than anything. When my birthday came, my mom and dad surprised me with one.”
Linn stopped and looked out the window. “Only later did she tell me what she’d done.” It had been when her mom was dying. They’d had great talks during those difficult months.
“She knew we couldn’t have a dog,” Linn said. “So she bought the gerbil the week before my birthday and kept it down in the basement. Then she proceeded to convince me that what I really wanted was a gerbil.”
She caught Adam’s expression. He was studying her, as if trying to read her thoughts.
“Maybe God’s like that,” she said. “He already has something special in our basement, and He’s just waiting for us to want it.”
“But how do we know what that is?”
She wanted to sink into the depths of his eyes. “Maybe we need to ask Him to help us crave whatever it is He already has for us.”
Adam focused beyond the front windshield for a long moment. The car, still running, kept the inside nice and toasty, while the windows fogged up with their breath.
“If you’ve always felt the need to be a pastor,” Linn said softly, “maybe God put that need there.”
Adam closed his eyes. One of his gloved hands gripped the steering wheel, and his jaw worked. She wished she could read his mind.
“The thing is”—he smacked the steering wheel with his palm—“it’s not my calling that I’m questioning.”
At first the words were just words. But then she felt something. It was almost as if the air in the car became weighted with meaning. He wouldn’t look at her, and she suddenly thought she might know why.
Yet it couldn’t be. He wasn’t questioning his feelings for Elizabeth, was he? It was only her own pathetic hopes that made her think so.
But when he finally raised his eyes to her, she knew she’d been right. And not only about Elizabeth. The way Adam was looking at her wasn’t the way one friend regards another. It was the way a man looks at a woman he longs for.
She couldn’t have moved, couldn’t have looked away if she’d tried. There was enough heat in the car to fly a hot-air balloon, and it had nothing to do with the heat blowing through the vents.
His lips parted, as if he was about to say something. Then they clamped shut.
She wanted to drag the words from his mouth. But the ones that came next weren’t the ones she longed to hear.
“It’s getting late. You should probably be going in.” He smiled gently to soften the blow.
She wanted to beg him to explain himself. She wanted to ask if she’d totally misunderstood. She wanted to reach over and smooth the creases between his brows with her fingers.
Instead she said good-bye and watched him drive away.