4

 

“It’s fine.” Traci weaved a path around Dylan.

“Wait.” Dylan rushed ahead to block her path. “It might be someone dangerous.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Dylan, I think the ‘someone dangerous’ is right here in my kitchen.” Traci laughed as she sidestepped him. “Are you always this paranoid?”

“Not paranoid…cautious. It comes with the territory.” He peered into the night and nodded slightly when he saw Vivian Hart round the corner. She paused at the threshold, bathed in a halo of back-porch light.

“Hi, Miss Vivian.” Traci skirted around Dylan to usher in the sweet, grandmotherly woman. Dylan sensed she possessed a hint of spunk to go with the salt-and-pepper hair. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Hello there, Traci…Dylan. I assure you the pleasure is all mine. May I impose on you for just a moment?”

“Oh, it’s no imposition at all. Please, come pull up a chair, and let me pour you a cup of coffee. Dylan and I were just working on a project together.”

“I see that.” Vivian crossed the room but paused just short of taking a seat. “How wonderful.”

“How are you doing?” Traci opened the door of a cabinet above the sink and took a tall glass. “You’re a long way from the big house. Would you like some sweet tea?”

“No tea, thank you. And I’m fine…just missing my Andrew something awful tonight. The moonlight is so beautiful. I think we’re having what the news people call a Super Moon…so bright and close. And the stars weave a sparkling velvet blanket. Andrew and I used to love to stroll together on nights such as this when the stars danced and the wind whispered through the treetops.” She turned toward the counter where the cakes sat cooling. “Oh, it smells simply divine in here. I knew it would. You’ve discovered the perfect combination…”

“What’s that in your hand?” Dylan asked as he motioned to the small, brown jar clasped in Miss Vivian’s palm.

“Oh, this…” Vivian passed the jar to Traci. “It’s just a bit of pure vanilla extract that I brought from the pantry at the big house. I thought you might need it while you’re whipping up the frosting for those gorgeous confections.”

“I just started preparing the buttercream. But, I have…” Traci’s voice trailed off as she reached for a jar of vanilla perched on the table, shook the contents. “Oh, my. This jar’s empty, but, Miss Vivian, how did you know I would need it when I didn’t even realize until now?” Her eyes widened with disbelief. “And how did you know we’d be making frosting?”

“A little bird told me.” Vivian glanced toward the ceiling and then turned to wink at Dylan as if they shared a secret. “You know, it’s a shame to waste such a beautiful night cooped up in this stifling kitchen.” She waved a hand in front of her face as if to emphasize the heat. “Perhaps, while those cakes cool, you two might take a stroll together along the greenway and enjoy the stars.”

“Well, it will take a while for the layers to cool.” Traci nodded. “I suppose we could, Miss Vivian.”

“Well, of course you can.”

“I usually go for an evening run, but I missed that today since we had to…” Traci paused and shook her head. “Never mind that. But I’m sure Dylan would rather head to his cottage for a while than take a walk with me. He’s got music to mix, don’t you, Dylan?”

“It can wait.” If Traci was going walking, Dylan was sure planning to join her—especially at this late hour. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Miss Vivian will walk with me.”

“Oh, no, thank you, dear.” Vivian held up a hand, palm splayed, and shook her head emphatically. “I have to get back. I have an apple pie in the oven. Apple pie was Andy’s favorite, you know.”

“I remember.”

“How about Traci and I walk you home, Miss Vivian, and then we’ll follow the greenway back here?”

“You’re such a gentleman, Dylan.” She smiled at him. “But I just spoke with David and he’s headed home from the grocery. He should be here any minute.” An engine rumbled through the open kitchen window as a car turned into the drive. “Oh, there he is now. What perfect timing.” Vivian headed toward the patio and the gate that led to the driveway. “He’ll drive me home.”

“It is a beautiful night.” Dylan’s gaze drifted to the starlit horizon as it kissed a canvas of dancing Angelina Forest trees beyond the yard. “And now a walk seems like a perfect idea.”

“Of course it is.” Miss Vivian mouthed a few words to the heavens before lowering her gaze once more and offering another quick wink. “I’d better not keep David waiting. You two have a nice time now. And this wedding cake you’re whipping up together, well, it’s just a preview.”

“A preview of what, Miss Vivian?’ Traci asked, as she followed at Vivian’s heels. “You sound like Mr. Hart, talking in riddles. He used to do that with great frequency.”

“Yes, he did. And you’ll soon see where this is headed.” Vivian grinned as if she knew a secret they didn’t. “Enjoy your walk, now.”

“We will. Thank you. Be careful heading back.” Traci hesitated a moment as she watched Vivian fold herself into the passenger seat of her nephew’s car. Then she stepped from the doorway and turned to Dylan. “That was…odd.”

“She’s got a point, though.” Dylan took the bottle of vanilla from Traci and placed it on the table beside the one that sat empty. “We have been going at it here for a couple of hours now, and there’s not much to be done until the layers cool. Let’s go burn off some of the stress.”

“Well, when you put it that way…so romantic…” Traci unlaced the strings of her apron. “How can a girl refuse?”

“She can’t.” Dylan reached for her hand. “After all, look at the whole package just waiting along the greenway trail…starlight…the song of cicadas, a gentle breeze whispering through towering Angelina Forest trees…me?”

“Speaking of you....” Traci dug her heels in as he started toward the door. “You’re not going to wear that apron walking, are you?”

Dylan glanced down, grimaced. “Oh, man. This is definitely not part of the whole package I mentioned.”

“But it looks so…cute on you.”

“Cute?” He unlaced the straps of the bubblegum cupcake, lifted it over his head and tossed it across a chair back. “That settles it. The apron goes—for good.”

“And the rest of the package?”

He offered the slightest bow. “It’s all yours for the taking.”

 

****

 

Ahh…pure bliss.

Dylan closed the front door of his cottage and paused without turning on a light to relax against the eight-paneled wood. Traci’s front porch light winked off and moonlight streamed through the picture window from the quiet road beyond to cast the room in a milky glow.

Traci…he’d finally, officially, met the elusive woman with the voice of an angel. Who would have imagined he’d so thoroughly enjoy spending time with her—making a cake of all things? The scent of buttercream and vanilla infused with an undertone of femininity that was pure Traci tattooed Dylan’s memory. In the course of a single evening she’d unlocked a door that he hadn’t even realized was sealed tight.

The door to his heart.

As much as he enjoyed the feeling, Dylan couldn’t possibly allow the door to remain open. Too much was at stake…way too much to fall lax concerning who he allowed to enter. Yes, tonight had been a welcome reprieve, yet fingers of caution danced up his spine. He knew the levity of taking such a chance—however tempting it might be—with the weight of war…and of Joe’s loss…still heavy on his shoulders.

Life, in this snapshot in time, was just too complicated.

Dylan pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the rectangular dog tags beneath the fabric of his T-shirt. He thought of Joe’s wife, Susan, and of the son she’d birthed only weeks before word of Joe’s death arrived. Joy had quickly turned to sadness, hope to loss in a torrent of tears.

Dylan’s heart fractured as the sound of Susan’s sobs echoed through his ears. He wondered what Mr. Hart and his angels would have to say about the hand that had been so ruthlessly dealt his friends. The details of loss and the days and weeks that followed would certainly gouge a notch in the Heart’s Haven legend.

Dylan lifted a hand to the wall that separated his cottage from Traci’s. That wall was a symbol…a fortress not to be crossed. He’d disregarded the warning lights and regretted his uncharacteristic spontaneity in what amounted to one of the best evenings now carefully catalogued in his memory.

Traci had summed up things herself without even realizing it.

“I think the ‘someone dangerous’ is right here in my kitchen.”

Danger was a reality. He’d seen it come to life with his own eyes. A single moment in time had the power to change everything for the good…as well as for the bad.

Caution was Dylan’s middle name—a creed he lived by. And he’d be wise to practice caution with his heart…as well as with Traci’s. He should have never suggested they ride to the reception together tomorrow. So much time to talk…to get to know her and for her to do the same with him. Then what? Just a quick “It’s been nice knowing you…see you later?”

What had he been thinking?

Worry burned a path through Dylan’s gut as he crossed to his laptop and brought up his music library, then switched on the mixer. Headphones sealed out all but the music, washing away memories of a less complicated time and worries of what tomorrow might bring.

But even the music couldn’t chase away the lilting hum of Traci’s angelic song or the memory of her laughter as they’d walked the greenway along the lush Angelina Forest. Tomorrow, Dylan would spend almost an entire day close to her once again. The thought launched his pulse into a Mach five as his gut executed a two-and-a-half twist.

Dylan wished he shared Old Hart’s gift of speaking with the angels. He could sure use their divine wisdom now. But he possessed no such connection so he’d just have to trust that he was traveling along the right path, one that led to contentment and not heartache—especially for Traci.