“Stop pacing the hall, Miranda. You’re going to wear out the marble.” Bianca sat on the grand staircase in the front hall in fashionable jeans and a cotton T-shirt, grinning while she watched her sister complete another circuit of the entryway.
“Oh, dry up.” Miranda did stop pacing, but not to please her sister. “You have no idea how nervous I am.”
“Because of a picnic? Come on.”
“Because of who invited me on the picnic, and I said yes!” Her voice rose on the last word. Miranda knew it made her sound a little panicked, but that was the way she felt. “You were there right behind me. Why didn’t you stop me?”
“You’re a big girl. Nobody wrung an answer out of you. If you didn’t want to go on the picnic all you had to do was say no. Since you didn’t turn Greg down, he is probably right in believing that you want to see him again.”
“I do…I think,” Miranda admitted tersely. “But I have no idea what to say and I’m sure I’m going to make an even bigger fool of myself than I did last night.”
Bianca shook her head. “Judging from what you told us before we talked to Cat, I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Miranda gave up pacing altogether and came to sit down next to her sister. Bianca might be only a year younger, but she’d always been more worldly-wise. “You think I should have confronted him last night?”
Bianca tilted her head. “Yes, I do. And you also have to realize that hearing a man tell someone else that you’re ‘just a friend’ is a bit different from having him tell you that he just wants to be friends.”
Miranda tried not to moan. “Wasn’t that going to be the next step?”
“Not necessarily. Did you even give him a chance to explain himself?”
“No. I was so sure of what I was going to hear that I told him not to say anything else. Not too bright, huh?” She felt like burying her head in her hands and having a good cry.
“I don’t know about whether it was bright or not, but it was certainly a normal response.” Bianca put an arm around her and Miranda was conscious of the beautiful diamond ring on her sister’s left hand. Leo Santiago had extremely good taste in jewelry. “Do you want to pray about it? We could while we wait, you know.”
“Sure.” Miranda leaned her head down to touch Bianca’s. “Dear Lord, please help me. I don’t know what to say or do when Gregory comes for our picnic. I know he’s a good man, and that he loves You. Help me to see him as You see him, as a beloved child of God. In Jesus’ name we pray.” Her sister added little more, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.
“You really do care about him, don’t you?” Bianca said softly. “After seeing him last night, I can see why, and unless I’ve become a poorer judge of character than I used to be, I think the good pastor wants to be more than just friends with you, sis.”
Miranda felt her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, I hope so. But what do I do…” The ring of the front doorbell cut off her thoughts. When she crossed the expanse of tile to open the door, there stood Greg wearing a pale blue polo shirt, khakis, and carrying an elaborate picnic basket.
“Hi. I hope I’m not too late. I have to admit that I went to Gourmet to Go and picked up lunch. I didn’t want to inflict my cooking on you yet.” His boyish smile was so charming that Miranda found herself smiling back.
“No, you’re right on time,” she said, ushering him into the hallway. “Come in and say hi to my sister Bianca before she leaves.”
Bianca’s eyes glittered with delight as she greeted Greg. When she took off up the stairs after a few minutes, she got to the first landing and made a circled-finger “okay” sign and winked at Miranda, who felt like throwing a shoe at her. But then, she had to admit, Bianca’s gesture had relaxed her.
“So, do you have a favorite spot for picnics?” Greg asked, twenty minutes later when they made it to the beach.
“It varies, depending on the weather and the kind of mood I’m in. If I’m happy it’s usually down here on the beach where I can watch the sandpipers run around. Something about them makes me laugh.”
“And if you’re not as happy?” Greg asked casually, but he seemed to be paying a lot of attention to her answer.
“Then probably up on the bluff, either at the old swing where we were last night or at a bench a little farther down. The bench is one that Grandfather put there especially for Grandmother Ethel. It makes me feel a little melancholy to sit there, wondering what she was like.”
“Did she leave any journals or anything like that?”
Miranda shook her head. “Just a few photographs and a family Bible that Aunt Winnie keeps in her library. She had beautiful handwriting.”
“So, which spot is it to be today? I hope you’ll tell me that we stay on the beach.” A light breeze blew through Greg’s sandy-brown hair, picking out highlights of gold Miranda hadn’t noticed before. For someone who spent most of his time inside, he seemed to be in his element out here.
“Definitely the beach,” she told him. “That’s why I brought along a second bag. I keep an old blanket in it just for such occasions.”
“Great. I’ll let you pick the spot. You can probably find us the right place on a beautiful day like this.” They walked along for a little while as Miranda listened to the rush of waves and the cries of the seabirds.
“Right here,” she said, pointing. From the spot she chose they could see the entrance to the caves that led below the house. Putting down the basket, he helped her spread out the blanket. Down here on the shore with the breeze blowing, Miranda was glad she’d tied a cotton sweater around her waist when they set out. Her long chambray skirt and the T-shirt she wore had felt great when they set out from the house, but here it felt five to ten degrees cooler than it had been in the rose garden.
“So, what prompted you to ask me on a beach picnic?” Miranda asked Greg, half an hour later when they were finishing up the sandwiches he’d produced from his well-packed picnic basket.
“Several things. I didn’t want to ask you out in case you were having a difficult day.” The understanding in his eyes touched her heart.
“I appreciate that. I haven’t had as many of those difficult days lately. Some of that may be due to you.”
“Now why do you say that? There’ve been plenty of people who have helped you get to this point. I suspect your aunt has had more to do with your lack of difficult days than I might.”
“I think the thing I owe most to my aunt right now is that she introduced me to you.” Miranda hadn’t intended to say that, but somehow she couldn’t keep much from Greg. “Her faith has always been a good example for me, and I know she’s prayed for me every day for more than twenty years. So even in things like her ever-present matchmaking she has the best in mind.”
“She definitely seems to. I guess I should feel honored that she believes I’m worthy of you.”
From anyone else Miranda would have felt that she was being teased, but Greg’s expression was one of sincerity.
“I’m the one who ought to wonder about worthiness. I understand there must be a dozen reasons why being any more than just friends would be a bad idea,” Miranda said.
“Funny, right now I can’t think of any.” Greg took her hand and Miranda felt warmth course through her. The breeze might still be blowing but it didn’t bother her now. “I know I said that before, but it came out all wrong, Miranda. I wasn’t trying to push you away. It’s just that there’s so much about me you don’t know. So much nobody in Stoneley knows and I’ve been happy to keep things that way.”
“Gregory, I can’t imagine that there’s anything about you that would be half as bad as some of the things the media has reported about the Blanchard family just in the time you’ve been at Unity. You’re just too kind and caring and honest for me to believe anything else.”
He looked down at the picnic blanket and Miranda wanted to reach out with her free hand and touch his face, bring his gaze back to hers. But somehow the gesture felt too intimate and she resisted the impulse. “Then you’d be surprised. But you have to believe me when I tell you that it’s nothing about you that has made me hold back from being anything but your friend. I’ve already seen the amount of pain the world has thrown at you in the last six months. You don’t need any more.”
“Doesn’t the Bible say that we’re not supposed to judge other people? I don’t think it’s fair to either of us for you to try to figure out what I can or can’t handle. I think you should leave the decision up to me.”
Greg’s brown eyes widened. “You know, that’s a very good point. I’ve been trying to protect you from several things when I should have just told you and let you decide where to go from there.”
“Or we could decide together. That seems fairest to me.” Was it her imagination, or did his grasp of her hand tighten?
“That sounds like a great idea. And if we’re trying to be fair here, would it be fair to ask you if it’s okay if I kiss you?” His hand was definitely tighter.
“Yes. It would be fair. And yes, I’d like it if you kissed me.” Miranda didn’t even close her eyes in anticipation. This time she wanted to savor every bit of Gregory’s kiss with all of her senses including sight. And this time it was very, very good.
She came to him with her eyes wide-open. Greg thought he’d never seen anything braver. He’d just told Miranda that he wasn’t the person up on a pedestal that she’d created and she didn’t seem to care. She met him right where he was, in the moment, and she did it without reservation. In that gesture he received the message that wiped away the doubt he’d felt before. He had been telling himself that surely the woman God had in mind for him as a life partner would be all the things a church expected a pastor’s wife to be. That way he’d erected a barrier that kept him holding Miranda—and anybody else he might have judged unworthy—at arm’s length.
Now Miranda had found a way through the barrier. She couldn’t have found that way by herself; God had to be leading the charge. This all had to be something from God, because it had His fingerprints all over it. Here was this person right in front of him, coming to him unafraid and seeing everything, willing to love him just where he was and just as he was. Does this remind you of anyone you already know? a small voice inside of him teased. Of course it did. The risen Lord that he spent every day trying to serve worked exactly the same way.
Greg realized, in the time he had taken to come to grips with all of this, he had kept the kiss going with Miranda. Drawing back reluctantly, he sat there on the blanket with her, feeling breathless and a little stunned. “Wow,” was all he could say for quite some time.
As if there was an echo mixing in with the crash of waves on the nearby shore, Miranda mirrored his comment. “Wow is right. I’m thirty-three years old and, obviously, I’ve been kissed before. Or at least I thought I had been. After that, though, I’d have to say that I’ve been kissed before but I haven’t really been kissed until just now.”
She was going to think he was a real idiot, but all Greg could do was nod as he sat listening to the waves and holding Miranda’s hand. For a few moments the touch and the silence was enough. Finally he had to break the spell. “Do you think I should take you back to the house?” he asked.
“I do,” she answered. Miranda looked as solemn, in a thoughtful kind of way, as Greg felt. Together they slowly packed up the remains of the picnic, folded the beach blanket and started for the house at the top of the bluffs.
“It feels so good to be out here in the fresh air,” Greg said, enjoying the salt tang of the air and the breeze that ruffled Miranda’s long skirt. “Maybe we can do something else together outside soon. Winnie gave me an idea for another outing that you might like.”
“Oh? Tell me more.” Miranda looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. Her smile picked him up every time he saw it, which wasn’t enough for his taste. “Where we ate lunch down there wasn’t too far from the entrance to some caves she told me about during the tour of the house she gave me. Have you ever been in them?”
Miranda shook her head. “Not really. I’ve been in the part of the cellar that leads to them, but that’s as far as I ever went. And naturally that was with Delia and Juliet egging me on when we were all much younger.”
“I want to really get to know your sister Delia sometime. What little I’ve seen, and everything I’ve heard, makes me think that she must be quite an interesting woman.”
Miranda laughed. “All my sisters are interesting women. What I wouldn’t give to have all six of us sit down with Mama and ask her where we get some of the traits that I certainly don’t see as part of the Blanchard legacy. I talked to my grandmother Eleanor when she was here but somehow it just isn’t the same.”
Greg couldn’t resist coming closer and gathering her in his arms to try to ease the wistful look on her face. “I hope and pray that someday soon you’ll get the chance to ask her, Miranda. If your mother is alive, it’s difficult for me to imagine a situation where God wouldn’t let that happen.”
“And thanks to Cat, our new private investigator, we’re all surer than ever that she’s alive, or at least she was recently.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and Greg had to fight not to hug her too tightly. Miranda brought out a strong urge in him to protect her, but he had to let her be strong and independent, too.
“There you two are,” a cheery voice called out, making Miranda stand up straight again. Winnie, wearing a floppy straw hat and a denim dress came toward them with rose-pruning shears in hand. “Greg, could we induce you to stay a while longer than you’d planned this afternoon? I know you must be busy, but it’s such a glorious day that I’m trying to do something spur of the moment.”
“And what would that be, Winnie? Coming from you, that could mean something quite interesting.”
“Just tea in the gazebo, mostly family. Almost all of the girls voiced their opinion that last night’s party was a little over-the-top, and I thought perhaps we could enjoy the roses at their height and one another’s company at the same time. It’s getting to be a rare occasion when this many of them are home.” Winnie’s brow wrinkled slightly. “And I suppose it will be even rarer as more of them marry. But then, that’s the way God intends things, isn’t it?”
“‘A man will leave his mother and father and join with his wife and they become one,’” Greg said in agreement, quoting Matthew. “And since you seem to be instrumental in a lot of these prospective ‘joinings’ then you have to accept them.”
“Yes, but I certainly hope most of them settle near here so that I can play with their children,” Winnie said.
Greg was about to laugh, but noticed that Miranda was flushing bright pink, so he tried not to do anything that might embarrass her further.
“So, back to tea in the gazebo,” Greg said, redirecting the conversation a bit. “Will Mr. Blanchard be joining us?”
Winnie sniffed. “The only Blanchard male joining us will be my father, Pastor Greg. Ronald is back to work, business as usual. But it’s such a beautiful day that Peg agreed to have Father come down on the elevator so he might enjoy the sunshine.”
“In that case I’d be happy to stay,” he told Winnie. Even though it probably meant he’d be in his office late tonight once he got back to the church, it would be worth it to really get to know Miranda’s family better.
“I think you impressed Winnie with your willingness to move furniture and help set up everything,” Miranda told him about ninety minutes later when everything was all arranged in the gazebo and Sonja and one of her helpers were busy setting the tea tables.
“Hey, you’d be surprised at how many foodservice jobs I can do. It comes from working my way through college and seminary,” Greg told her. “You should see me clean a kitchen.”
“You’re probably much better at it than I am,” she said, smiling.
“Better at what?” Juliet asked as she bounced up the steps to the gazebo. She hugged Miranda quickly on the fly then came over to Greg.
“Good afternoon, Juliet. I’m surprised your father gave you the day off to visit with your sisters.”
She shook her head, laughing. “I’ve got so much comp time coming that I could take off a week already. I even convinced Brandon that he should use some of his and quit early so that he could join us.”
The young woman glowed with health, and her happiness when she mentioned Brandon DeWitt made her even more beautiful. “You certainly look better than the last time we really got a chance to talk.”
Juliet wrinkled her nose. “Nobody looks good after being poisoned. Do you think Alannah put Marc up to that?” she asked, referring to the chef’s assistant who had been planted in the Blanchard household for malicious purposes. “I’ll confess to reading the newspaper articles about her journal, and it makes me wonder…”
“Don’t believe everything you read, kid.” Mick Campbell strode up behind his future sister-in-law and patted her on the head about the same way he might Kaitlyn. Juliet grimaced at him but otherwise let the gesture pass. As the oldest and youngest members of this family group, Greg suspected that they must have their share of run-ins.
Before any more of a fracas could start, Winnie was there directing traffic and instructing the men present on how to position a ramp up the two stairs to the gazebo so that Howard and his wheelchair could join them with ease. It was a good twenty minutes before everyone settled down again and by then other topics of conversation had come up.
Greg looked at the plate in front of him, wondering if he’d ever get used to the kind of household where a woman like Winnie could decide in the morning to have tea in the rose garden and have this array of sandwiches, pastries and cookies at her fingertips by afternoon. Tate Connolly seemed to be wondering the same sort of thing. He caught Greg’s eye and shrugged, smiling. It wasn’t his style, but obviously almost anything Winnie did met with his approval.
Miranda stood up and the group quieted around their round tables spread through the gazebo. “Before I forget, I’ve got a question. Who’s been inside the caves under the house? Gregory wants us to go explore them and I want to make sure it’s all right.”
“You’re getting my sister in those caves? I’m impressed,” Juliet said. “The farthest we could ever get her was the passageway from the basement. Even though we assured her they were perfectly safe as long as you avoid high tide, she wouldn’t ever go in.”
“What happens at high tide?” Brandon asked from beside her.
Greg knew the answer to that one. “The entrance from the beach floods and you can’t see where the sharp spots are on the cave floor. And in some places it gets deep enough that anyone but a strong swimmer would be in trouble.”
“Now how did you know that?” Mick asked.
“I made a trip to the Historical Society archives,” Greg admitted. “They’ve got great maps of the place.”
“What are they talking about?” Howard Blanchard seemed to stir from the doze he’d been in since Peg Henderson had wheeled him into the gazebo.
“Caves, Grandfather. The ones that join to the house.” Portia, sitting close to him, spoke loudly enough for him to understand.
“Caves? Never liked them myself. But I heard something about them not too long ago. What was it, Peg?”
“I think it was on the television, Howard. You know how you like those nature shows.” She smiled at him indulgently. “Now that you’re awake, do you want a cookie? Andre made those cinnamon ones you’re so fond of.”
Greg wondered what it must be like to come to the end of a long life like Howard Blanchard’s and be faced with all the decisions one had made over the course of eighty plus years. What did he regret? What was he proud of? Looking at Miranda standing beside him, Greg decided that if he got that old, she was the kind of woman he’d want by his side.
Catching his eye, it was as if Miranda somehow understood some part of his thoughts. Sitting down swiftly, she continued to look deeply into his eyes. He took her hand and they sat quietly as the swells of conversation rose around them.