8

The taste of her hair lingered on his lips. Brayton longed for a real kiss and trembled deep down imagining the delight of Rachel giving one. Yet he accepted that she wasn’t ready. Without another word, they settled alone together in the back of the van, her head against his shoulder as if she really wanted it there.

“You all right back there?” Charlene turned around to ask. “Why, Rachel, have you been crying?”

“You lovebirds have a quarrel” Cricked chirped, but in a sweet way.

Rachel started to smile, and Brayton felt a smidge of relief. “It’s all good,” she said. “My grandmother designed the altarpiece at church. I get emotional sometimes.”

She hadn’t spoken anything untrue. Brayton laid his hand on her warm hair.

“That thing was gorgeous.” Charlene sighed. “I do almost wish Kyle and I were getting married right here.”

The van hit a rough patch in the road, jostling Rachel firmer against him. After a good laugh over their banged heads, the bridal party resumed their gabfest. However, Brayton and Rachel might well have been the only people in the world. Maybe it was the mountains guarding them like silver sentinels, or the hills wrapping them in a coverlet stitched with glowing fall trees. Maybe the high spires of pine raining peace down like fallen needles. Or maybe it was because she too was considering a move to Woodside Meadows. His heart pounded. They could be neighbors. More than neighbors. But now wasn’t the time to dredge up that possibility. He’d get it said sometime soon. Right now he had other things to say, and Rachel sure didn’t need his own plans muddying up her waters.

They got back to Hearts Crossing way too quickly. He prayed he’d find the words to comfort her, and the thought almost had him chuckle. Pray? He who hadn’t seriously prayed in years. Of course he’d gotten the kids to church and Sunday school because Marianne would have wanted him to continue what she’d started. But his heart hadn’t been in it. Lately, though, Nate reaching the milestone of college, Brayton had realized the years were passing by. God knocking on the door to his heart wasn’t something he could ignore.

And the vicar’s words this morning had certainly touched a nerve. God knows what is going to happen tomorrow, next week. Next month, next year. And no matter the outcome, He will care for us.

And that mosaic…The peace, the closure encircled him again.

The tiny bridesmaid piloted the van up the gravel drive underneath the gate of Hearts Crossing—he’d long ago chuckled away his macho doubts of her ability. An amazing serenity filled him just passing under the hearts and cross. He knew it for sure then and there, like a hammer blow. He was here for a purpose, a purpose that had more to do than him just checking things out at Woodside Meadows. More than him gifting Addie with riding lessons.

Rachel. Helping her find her way. He’d suffered a tragic loss, been part of it, if not the cause. If anybody could help God mend her broken spirit and ease her confusion, let it be me, Lord, through You. With You.

After the van parked, the bridal party surged outside first, letting him enjoy a few last seconds of snuggling with Rachel.

“Rachel, what can we do to help in the kitchen? That barbeque smoker over there’s already got my tummy rumbling,” one of them said as he helped Rachel out.

The aromas were divine, and Rachel’s tense face relaxed into a smile. “No, no, Cricket. Thanks. All I’ve got to do is grate some cheese, and I think I’ll have the help I need.” She tossed Brayton a glance that set his heart singing. “This is your last day here, girls. You ought to mount up for one last trail ride.” She waved her hand. Each of the girls had dressed in jeans and boots for services. “You’re all set to go.”

“But we’re tenderfeet and need a fearless leader.” Charlene chuckled. “Won’t the hands still be at church in town?”

Aw. He hoped the half-dozen girly grins weren’t suggesting him. The only trail ride he’d want to go on had Rachel on a horse at his side.

“Some of the guys attend Saturday Mass at St. Anthony’s.” Rachel pointed and all eyes followed. Past the corral, a lanky cowboy maneuvered a horse on a halter lead. “That’s Topeka over there. He’ll take you out and get you back here in time for dinner.”

“Oh, goodness me.” Cricket sighed. “How do you grow ’em so handsome around here? If me and Travis don’t make it, although I’m sure I can straighten him out, I know where to come trolling.”

“Cricket!” The gaggle groaned.

Charlene simply smiled. “Thanks, Rachel. One thing’s for sure. We’re all gonna hate to leave here and get back to the real world.”

“Jobs.” One said.

“Travis,” Cricket spat out then grinned. “Aw, he’s all right.”

Rachel chuckled as the girls took off. He’d never tire of her smile.

All right. As Brayton and Rachel marched up the back steps into the large country kitchen, he found his voice, his words, and opened his mouth. But she disappeared into a large commercial fridge for a second, coming out with an armload of cheeses.

“Wanna help?” She set down her load and dug in a drawer for a grater.

“I thought you’d never ask. Let me wash my hands first.” He grinned and set to work at the long stainless steel counter. After she pulled off her jacket, she washed up and joined him

“Rachel?” Somehow, the two of them alone in a normally boisterous place performing the humble task, he knew gut-deep he’d found the right moment in this homey kitchen to speak what he’d left unsaid at church. “I’m a dad, and I’ve been a husband. If Nick hadn’t wanted to come back to you, believe me, he wouldn’t have.”

Her hand stilled, her Velveeta suspended over a mandolin, but she didn’t look at him. “But he wanted to be there. In country. Deployed. More than he wanted to be with me.”

Brayton stopped his action as well. “Well, I’ve never been a serviceman, but I bet it was because he felt his job was unfinished. That he was abandoning his duties at a critical time. It wasn’t because he didn’t want you.” Her gaze met his for a fleeting second before they both attacked their chunks of cheese.

“I can’t help wondering…maybe I wasn’t enough.” Her voice hitched.

Her pain rolled over him. More than anything he wanted to hold her against his heart, but her arms closed tight around herself. He grated about three full cups of pepper jack while he considered what to say.

“But he did come back to you. Rachel, none of us knows what we’d do, what we’d feel under extreme circumstances. Shock, grief, guilt.” And Brayton certainly didn’t. His shock, grief, and guilt had been of a very different nature. Nonetheless, he called up his love for Marianne, their trust in each other. He had to remind Rachel of that. “You loved him, right?”

For a few seconds, her back turned as she reached into a cupboard for a clear glass bowl.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” She dumped a ton of shreds in the bowl. “Of course I loved him. And I did understand, you know. About such extreme circumstances. He wrote. We skyped.”

“So have you let it go?”

She shrugged. “Somewhat. Or I’d go crazy. But he’s not here to heal up with me. That’s what I can’t get over.”

He recalled her painful words back at the chapel. “Rachel, Nick didn’t want to die that day. If that’s what he wanted, he had better chances over there, before he came home. His death was an accident. Believe that. Maybe he was being a little macho. But it was an accident.”

She turned to face him then. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I had an accident, too, and I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Memories sent his skin shivering. After a second, he spoke from his heart. “But mostly because no man would ever want to leave you.”

She chewed a lip he ached to kiss. “But he wanted to go back. He’d have gone back if he could have. He told me every day.”

Brayton touched her cheek. “But God kept him home with you. And God brought him home to you before calling him Home for good.” Brayton was more than ready this time.

Tears dripped down her face as she wiped it with a black-checkered dish towel.

“It hit me. At church today. Next week. Next month, next year. And no matter the outcome, He will care for us.”

At her dubious smile, he moved to hold her face in his hands and leaned forward. But even as her fingers clasped around the back of his neck, she drew back from his mouth. Like she’d done last night. His heart would have sunk to his soles if he hadn’t been a patient man.

Next week, next month, next year.

Thankfully, the churchgoers returned to distract them. As the cars pulled up, he pulled away from Rachel, willing her to feel his reluctance as well as his comfort. Addie dispelled any awkwardness when she burst through the kitchen door, wreathed in smiles, and threw herself into his arms.

It was a moment he’d longed for many months, and he held his daughter close.

“Dad, Bible study was awesome. I met some cool kids. And our teacher is this real beautiful widow Carol Aubrey. A widow, Dad.” She mouthed the words succinctly. “Can I go next week?”

His heart lightened a bit at her words. Addie mentioning something about a beautiful widow might mean she wouldn’t object if he were interested in seriously dating. That she had gone past some of her resentment about losing her mother. And her eagerness encouraged him that she’d embrace the move to Woodside Meadows. She’d be near Hearts Crossing for riding and lessons and even a horse of her own. Making new friends was the third scoop on a double cone.

“Of course you can go. I’ll make sure of it.”

Addie’s face shone, but her hands rested stubbornly on her hips. “And Dad. The Beemer has got to go. Everybody around here has a truck.”

He tried one of her eyerolls. “All right. You made your point.”

“OK. I’m going to play with Matty. He’s the cutest little boy ever.” She ran outside.

Brayton glanced over at Rachel, but she was busy pouring heavy cream into a big casserole. Her cheeks were bright pink, though. He knew he’d affected her, and his feeling of rejection eased. What was he thinking anyhow, trying to kiss a woman whose broken heart was still cracking? He rolled his eyes again, this time at himself. His reputation for perfect timing in a business deal sure hadn’t carried over today. But...Next week, next month, next year. Rachel Martin was definitely worth waiting for.