The quietness inside Robin’s living room screamed. She jiggled her leg and stared out the picture window, waiting. Always and forever waiting. Her life had turned into one giant interim. This temporary allotment of space and time and breath that she didn’t know what to do with anymore. The wait tonight at least had a focus—headlights. Any minute now, Ian’s car would pull into her driveway and release Amanda.
Robin crossed her arms and her legs, as if attempting to hold herself together. She’d watched Ian escort Amanda from the diner with a sickening sense of dread, and every minute after had her nerves closer and closer to unraveling. She hurled herself off the couch and began a short-routed pace, wondering if Ian would walk Amanda to the door. Would she have to listen to them whisper and flirt on the front porch? Robin imagined him kissing Amanda good night and her pacing grew more frenzied.
“When you’re still in love with your husband …”
He’d spit the words out like an accusation, like there was something wrong with loving the man she’d married. Like death should make her stop. She fell back onto the couch and fingered her ring, wishing she could erase the memory of Ian sliding it on her finger. Squeezing her eyelids tight, she waited for darkness to blot it out. But it didn’t work. The memory had turned into a stain.
Where are You, Lord? Because I could sure use Your wisdom right about now.
She took a deep breath and waited for something, anything. But nothing came. Robin felt abandoned, wandering in a desert with no escape. Pushing the air out of her lungs, she picked up Micah’s Bible from the end table and flipped through the thin pages of Deuteronomy, drawing comfort from the underlined passages until her nerves settled and her eyelids grew too heavy to hold up.
Dreams came, fuzzy and disorienting. One minute Amanda was home, on the porch, kissing Ian. The next, a breeze filtered through her window and she was sleeping on the couch. Then Caleb was awake, running through the house, but she couldn’t catch him. Bethany was showing her a positive pregnancy test while Robin cried and cried and cried. And then she was in the desert and she was kissing Ian and Micah was pulling her away …
Robin jolted upright, her heart pounding. A car door had slammed. The house was dark and quiet and she could hear the car idling outside. Footfalls sounded up the walkway. Porch light spilled onto the carpet. Robin leaned forward, straining to hear voices. Instead, the headlights backed out of the driveway and a key jiggled in the lock and Amanda stepped inside.
Robin clutched Micah’s Bible and stood. “Where have you been?”
Amanda stopped on the threshold and held up her hands, her purse swinging from the crook of her elbow. “Whoa, major déjà vu. It’s like I’m in high school all over again.”
“Be serious, Amanda. It’s almost midnight.”
“Be serious, Robin. I’m not a little kid. Last time I checked my license, I was a full-fledged twenty-four-year-old adult.” Amanda came all the way through the door and slipped off her heels.
Robin swallowed. If she didn’t say it now, she’d never say it. “I wanted to talk with you about something.”
“Speak freely, my friend.”
“I’m concerned about you.”
“What, specifically, is your concern?”
“You just got out of a long-term relationship. I don’t want you to get hurt again.” Even if Ian was interested in Amanda and his attention had nothing to do with Willow Tree Café, the man was leaving. As soon as he realized he was fighting a losing battle, he would return to his life and his home in Peoria. It would be Jason all over again.
Amanda’s eyes darkened. “What makes you think Ian will hurt me?”
“You’re my accountant and he’s looking for dirt on my café.”
“Dirt on your café? What is this, CSI?” Amanda tossed her purse on the sofa table and headed toward the stairs.
“Would you wait? I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”
Amanda clutched the banister and turned around. “About what?”
“Ian.”
“And your concern for my heart?”
“Yes.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with your concern for me or any of my organs.”
“Of course it does. You’re vulnerable right now and—”
Amanda held up a flat palm, like a traffic cop directing the flow of Robin’s voice. “Why don’t you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“You’re jealous.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Any more ridiculous than you staying up until midnight to tell me what you think about my involvement with Ian? Or any more ridiculous than you spying on us tonight at Val’s?”
“Okay, fine. You’re right. The spying was messed up. But I’m worried.”
“Well, don’t be, because Ian and I are only friends.”
The relief was immediate and disturbing. “But I thought you liked him.”
Something clattered upstairs. It sounded like one of Caleb’s toys falling from his bed. Most likely a dinosaur. Robin held her breath and waited for her sleepy-eyed son to come out of his bedroom, but only stillness filled the stairwell.
Amanda lowered her voice. “It’s kind of hard to like a guy when he has feelings for somebody else.”
“Somebody else?”
“Yeah. You.”
Heat slashed Robin’s cheeks. No, Amanda was mistaken. Ian did not have feelings for her.
“The feeling’s obviously mutual. So …” The unspoken words settled between them. They turned Robin’s mouth dry and rested like a cold lump in the pit of her stomach. It took her several seconds to realize she was shaking her head.
“Why not?” Amanda asked.
“Because …” Robin fumbled for an excuse. For a reason. “I don’t want Caleb to get hurt.”
“Oh, come on. You mean you don’t want you to get hurt.”
Robin’s heart thudded like a bass drum. It beat inside her chest and her ears and her knees. “I had the love of a lifetime with Micah. I know how blessed I was. That sort of thing doesn’t come around twice.”
“How do you know?” Amanda stared into Robin’s eyes, her expression filled with compassion and pity. “Listen, I’m not going to deny that what you and my brother had was special. And I won’t tell you that love isn’t risky. But it seems a shame that you’d shut yourself off from the possibility just because you’re scared.” Her posture deflated. “Fear is not from the Lord, Robin. You’ve read your Bible enough to know that.”
As hard as Robin tried to fight it, the yawn came. It pried her mouth wide open. She covered the offense with her hand and hoped nobody noticed. Jed Johnson had finally joined the support group and she didn’t want him thinking her yawn had anything to do with the length of his prayer request. Especially when she was thrilled to have him there.
Thanks to the clunky bandage wrapped around her finger, she jotted the truncated version of Jed’s concerns in a sloppy scrawl and glanced at the counter. Throughout the entirety of their Saturday morning gathering, a steady trickle of customers had kept Joe busy.
The leaning tower of blocks Caleb built in the kids’ corner clattered to the floor, followed by his laughter. It was a good sound. A much-needed sound. Robin covered another yawn and waited until Jed finished. After last night’s quarrel with Amanda, she hadn’t been able to fall asleep until two in the morning. She lay with eyes wide open, Amanda’s words flip-flopping in her stomach. So she’d opened Micah’s Bible and read the Psalms until sleep finally took her.
“Are you finished now?” A not-so-subtle hint of annoyance colored Bernie’s words.
Jed tore off bits of napkin and bunched them between his fingers. Cinnamon roll crumbs and white napkin flakes decorated his plate. He peeked at Bernie, his overlarge ears tingeing with pink. “My grandkids tell me I ramble. I guess it’s a hard habit to break.”
Bernie harrumphed.
Robin smiled. The woman was all bark and no bite. Hopefully Jed would pick up on that sooner rather than later. “Do you have any prayer requests for us this morning, Bernie?”
“My cat broke her tail.”
Robin scrunched her nose. Since when did Bernie have a cat?
“Oh, the poor dear,” Linda said.
“Bill’s very upset. I’m not sure I should have left her.”
Cecile set her mug on the table. “Who’s Bill?”
“My cat.”
Cecile made a face. “You named a female cat Bill?”
“It’s a perfectly fine name.”
Robin hid her smile behind her hand. Oh, Lord, thank You for these people. They were a bright spot to her week.
“The B and B felt empty after Ian left so I bought her at the farmer’s market.”
“They sell cats at the farmer’s market?” Linda asked.
“Lyle Noldt was selling them for the 4-H club. But now Ian’s back, and supposedly, he’s allergic to cats. So on top of Bill’s broken tail, I’m trying to lint-roll all her hair to make Ian’s stay less miserable.”
“It’s not actually the fur that causes the allergies.” Jed tore off a few more napkin pieces and looked at Bernie through thick eyeglasses. “It’s dried saliva and protein particles. A good HEPA filter would help.”
“And where in Peaks would I get a HEPA filter?” Bernie asked.
Jed ran his hand over thinning wisps of white hair. “I have some extras at my house. If you’d like one, I could bring it over.”
Bernie harrumphed again, but Robin caught her eyes softening.
“Speaking of Ian,” Cecile said. “Rumor has it he went on a date with a certain someone last night.”
The same heat from last night bit at Robin’s cheeks. How had the conversation landed here? She could feel Cecile’s stare boring into the side of her face, probing for details. But Robin had nothing to say. She was still unable to fully process Amanda’s declaration from last night—the one about Ian having feelings for her. Anytime she started to think about it, she lost her appetite.
“Val said they came to her diner last night looking awfully cozy.”
“That makes me a little sad,” said Linda. “She and Jason made such a good couple.”
“How do you feel about it, Robin?” Cecile asked.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s your sister-in-law.”
“So?”
“He wants your café.”
“Amanda is free to befriend whomever she wants to befriend.” Robin set her pencil down and closed her notebook. She had recorded everybody’s requests. It was time to wrap up with a prayer and spend the day with her son, not thinking about Ian. “Thanks for coming, everyone. If you don’t mind, I’d like to close us in prayer.”
The jingling of the front bell cut Robin off and Ian walked inside. Cecile Arton made a funny humming noise in the back of her throat. Robin excused herself from her table and made her way to intercept him. She did not want him talking to her support group, nor did she want to discuss her café. She’d rather not have anything to do with a man who made it sound like loving her husband was a bad thing. She met him halfway between the front door and the counter. “Can I help you?”
She pinned her gaze on his shoulder. Safer territory than the brownish-amber warmth of his eyes. “If this is about the café …”
“I’m not here to talk about the café.”
“Then what are you here to talk about?”
“I couldn’t sleep last night.” He dipped his chin and caught her attention from the tops of his eyes. “I kept lying there, thinking about what I said to you. Sometimes having a conscience can be really inconvenient.”
“Imagine that.”
“I’m sorry. It was completely unfair and uncalled for.”
“Which part? When you brought up my husband or when you accused me of leading on my brother-in-law?”
“Your brother-in-law?” Ian cocked his head. “You have another brother-in-law in Peaks?”
She nodded.
“I’m an idiot.” He jerked his head in the direction of her piano. “And we have an audience.”
Robin glanced over her shoulder. Four pairs of watchful eyes looked away, toward the drinks and empty plates in front of them. Robin swallowed. If Ian was going to be polite, she had no reason not to return the sentiment. “I’m sorry too.”
“For what?”
“My accusation about you and Amanda. That wasn’t fair. She’s a big girl who can handle herself, and even though I don’t like what you’re doing in Peaks, I don’t think you’re that kind of a guy.”
Ian’s eyes crinkled. He slid his hands in his pockets and leaned close. “Did you just pay me a compliment?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”
She fiddled with the gauze on her finger, her stomach entirely too swoopy. “Is that all?”
“Unless you’re in the mood to serve me some coffee?”
“Not particularly. Given the circumstances.”
“Understandable.” He looked as if he might say something more. Instead, he flashed his smile and walked out of her café. Robin stared after him, partly to avoid Cecile’s inevitable interrogation. Partly to process his visit. Surely Ian had a next move. Guys like him carried checkmates in their pockets.