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Authors: Carrie Turansky

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BOOK: A Man to Trust
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Adrie bit her lip. Was she making a mistake? It wasn’t every day you were offered a chance with someone special like Ross.

But attraction was not love. And this was attraction, pure and simple, feelings she needed to control. What mattered was following through on her plans, achieving her goals. She would not let his offer of romance or her fickle emotions derail her life plan.

Chapter Nine

R
oss tossed the basketball toward the hoop and watched it bounce off the rim—again. His aim was way off today, but that was no surprise. His whole life seemed out of whack right now.

Cam snagged the rebound, dribbled around him, pivoted and shot. The ball swished through the hoop. “Yes!”

Ross blew out a disgusted breath. “That’s enough for me. I quit.”

“You sure? This game is really boosting my ego.” Cam lifted the ball and let it fly. It swished through the hoop once more.

Ross grimaced. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Cam’s triumphant grin faded. “I usually beat you, but not by this much. What’s going on?”

Grabbing a towel, Ross wiped his sweaty face. Cam knew a lot about women and relationships. He’d been married for six years, then widowed, and was now engaged to be married a second time. Maybe he’d have some advice, or at least be able to commiserate. Ross lifted his eyes and met his friend’s questioning gaze. “Adrie and I had the let’s-just-be-friends talk this morning.”

Cam frowned. “You told her that?”

Ross rolled his eyes. “No, she told me.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Cam bounced the ball a few more times. “I didn’t know you were interested. Last thing I heard, she was giving you the iceberg treatment.”

“Yeah, things warmed up a little since we started working together.”

“I see.” He grinned and raised one eyebrow.

“Until yesterday, that is.” Ross hung the towel around his neck and sank down on the park bench.

“What happened?”

“We were goofing around, building scarecrows and I got a little physical.”

“Physical how?”

“Just tickling, but it freaked her out.”

Cam sent Ross a knowing nod.

“What can I say? I like her, and I was hoping something was developing between us. But I guess I was wrong.”

“Just because she said she wants to be friends, that doesn’t mean the door’s closed.”

Ross squinted at his friend. “You weren’t there. Believe me. The door is not only closed, it’s locked with a Do Not Disturb sign.”

Cam shrugged. “So, you convince her to change her mind.”

“There are a few problems with that idea.”

“Such as?”

“First, her heart’s set on a music career, and she doesn’t think she can do that in Fairhaven.”

“Yeah, Rachel mentioned that. She was worried Adrie might get a job offer and leave before the wedding.”

“It hasn’t happened yet, but she’s ready to apply any place she finds an opening. She could end up in San Francisco, New York, London, Moscow, who knows where?”

“So? That shouldn’t stop you from going after her. You’ve got your job at the bookstore, but you want to get back into photography eventually, right?”

Ross nodded. “That’s the plan.”

“And you could do that anywhere, couldn’t you?”

“Sure, but I’m Adrie’s replacement. If I quit, she can’t leave, at least not until she finds someone else to help her grandmother.”

“Hey, with all the people out there looking for jobs, I’m sure they could find someone.” Cam lifted the basketball and spun it on his finger. “That is if you two get together.”

“And that’s a big
if,
let me tell you.”

“So, what’s the other problem?”

Ross leaned back. “She was engaged before, and the guy was a real jerk. A few months before the wedding she found out he was cheating on her with her best friend.”

“Wow. That hurts.”

“Yeah.” Ross clenched his jaw. If he ever met that guy, he’d have a hard time not punching him in the face. “She says she doesn’t want to start anything because she’s leaving town, but I think she’s scared of getting hurt again.”

“Great!” Cam’s smile resurfaced and he rubbed his hands together. “That’s the kind of resistance you can overcome.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“It’s just a challenge, not a closed door. She wants to be friends? Fine. You be the best friend she’s ever had. Get her talking, and be a good listener. Find out her likes and dislikes. Be there when she needs you. But don’t cross the line or push to make it more serious until she’s ready.”

“When will that be? How will I know?”

Cam grinned and his blue eyes gleamed. “Oh, you’ll know. She’ll tell you.”

“She will?”

He nodded, resting his hand on Ross’s shoulder. “But the most important thing to remember is this—if she’s the one, and God’s behind it, then you just need to do your part. Be the man. Pray and watch God move. But you’ve got to seek Him and trust Him. Do what He’s telling you to do.

“You might win her heart,” Cam continued, “or you might not, but if you’re trusting Him and letting Him lead, you can’t go wrong.”

Ross nodded, letting those words sink in. “Okay. Pray, ask God to lead the way and be a world-class best friend.”

Cam slapped him on the back. “You got it. That plan works every time.”

Adrie snatched a tissue from the box on the coffee table and caught her explosive sneeze just in time. With a weary sigh, she dabbed at her sore nose and tossed the tissue on the growing pile on the floor by the couch. She should get up and get a trash can, but she felt so tired and achy that just the thought of moving exhausted her.

Lying back on her pillow, she let her eyes drift shut. This was a terrible time to get sick. Rachel’s wedding was only three days away, and she could not let her friend down. Plus all their holiday stock was arriving at the bookstore this week. They needed to do some major rearranging before they could put those items on display.

A knock sounded at her apartment door. Adrie lifted her head and squinted toward it. Was it her grandmother? She’d called her first thing this morning, explaining she was too sick to come downstairs and work.

“Who is it?” she called, her voice sounding rough and scratchy.

“It’s Ross. Can I come in?”

Adrie gasped and pulled up the blanket to her neck, covering her gray sweatpants and red T-shirt. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, and she hadn’t showered since yesterday.

“I’m not feeling well,” she croaked. “Go away.” She winced at how rude that sounded. “Or come back tomorrow,” she added, too exhausted to think of a nicer reply.

“I know you’re sick. I brought you some soup.”

Soup? She flopped back on the pillow. Even though she had a runny nose and a headache, some warm soup sounded great. “Okay, come on in. It’s unlocked.”

The door creaked open, and Ross stepped in carrying a plastic container in one hand and a bulging plastic grocery bag in the other. He sent her a sympathetic glance. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but I’m afraid it’s obvious.”

“Thanks.”

“What I meant was, I’m sorry you’re sick. It looks like you could use a little help from a friend.” He set the shopping bag on her coffee table and surveyed her living room. She cringed. Her usually neat living room was strewn with mail, newspapers and a few dirty dishes on the coffee table as well as a stack of books by the couch next to her pile of used tissues.

“Would you like some soup now, or should I put it in the fridge?”

Adrie eyed the container. “What kind of soup is it?”

“Homemade chicken noodle.”

“You’re kidding. You made chicken soup for me?”

“Of course.” He sent her a teasing grin. “Actually, your grandmother made it, so she sent me over to her house to pick it up.”

Was Nana trying to play matchmaker again? Adrie narrowed her eyes and scowled at him. “Did she send you up here, or was this your idea?”

He sobered. “She was going to bring it, but I offered to save her the trip. And it’s a good thing. If she heard you talking like that, she would not be pleased.”

Adrie moaned. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice.” Her nose tickled. She yanked another tissue from the box, but she was not fast enough to catch her sneeze. “Sorry.” She dabbed at her nose. “Hope you don’t catch this.”

“Don’t worry. I have great immunity, hardly ever get sick.” He held up the plastic container. “So, soup now or later?”

“Now would be nice. Thanks,” she added with an apologetic half smile.

“Okay. Be right back.”

She sank into her pillow and closed her eyes. Knowing someone cared enough to check on her was comforting. It was a little disconcerting that Ross was the one doing the checking, but she wasn’t going to complain.

He returned a few minutes later carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup, some crackers, a napkin and a spoon. He certainly seemed to find his way around the kitchen easily, maybe that was because the layout of both apartments was the same.

“That looks good.” She sat up slowly, but her head still pounded. Lifting her hand, she massaged her forehead.

Ross frowned. “Have you taken any medication?”

“Not since about seven this morning.”

“Adrie, it’s almost two o’clock.” He set down the tray and reached for the grocery bag. “Here, take your pick. I stopped at the drugstore and got a few things.” He set two different cold medications on the coffee table along with a box of throat lozenges, two bottles of water, a box of tissues and a women’s fashion magazine.

Adrie looked up at him. “A fashion magazine?”

He shrugged. “I thought you might like some mindless reading.”

“Thanks.” A slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth. He seemed to know her better than she’d realized.

He reached into the bag once more. “I also brought you a few DVDs from my collection in case you’re bored.”

Adrie glanced at the titles, and surprise rippled through her. “You like
Casablanca
and
Out of Africa?

“Sure. They’re classics. The photography in
Out of Africa
is amazing.”

“Those are two of my favorites.”

He grinned, looking pleased with himself. “Well, what do you know, that’s something else we have in common.”

“Did you know
Out of Africa
was filmed in Kenya?”

“I thought it might be.”

Her cell phone rang. She reached for it and checked the caller ID. “Oh, it’s my mom. I should take this.”

“Sure. Go ahead.” He walked toward the kitchen.

She watched him go, wondering what he planned to do. No time to worry about that now. Her mom usually communicated by email, so phone calls from Kenya were a rare treat. She tapped the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. Marian emailed and said you weren’t feeling well, so I thought I’d call and check on you before I go to bed.”

“Thanks. It’s just a cold. I should be okay in a day or two.”

“Have you been taking care of yourself? Are you eating well and getting enough sleep? Taking your vitamins?”

Adrie couldn’t help smiling. “Yes, Mom, I’m being a good girl.”

“Sorry, honey. I know you’re an adult, but I’ll always be your mother, and I’m never going to stop loving you and wanting to know how you’re doing.”

Her throat tightened, and unexpected tears burned in her eyes. This was silly. She’d lived half a world away from her parents for almost seven years. But hearing her mother’s voice brought a fresh wave of pain to the surface.

“Thanks, Mom. I’m glad you called. Is Dad there?” The hope of talking to her father lifted her spirits. She loved him, but he wasn’t very good at staying in touch. It had been at least three months since they’d spoken on the phone.

“No, he’s up in Turkana teaching at a pastor’s conference this week.”

She tried to swallow away her disappointment. “Oh.”

“He’ll be back on Saturday. I’ll let him know we talked.”

Adrie cleared her throat. “Okay. You don’t have to tell him I’m sick. I’m sure I’ll be fine by then. I don’t want him to worry.”

“All right, dear.” Her mother launched into a review of her activities for the last few weeks. Then she shifted gears to tell her about a few friends. “Remember Ann Marie Snyder? She was a year behind you at RVA.”

“Sure. How is she doing?” Adrie nibbled on a cracker and stirred her soup. Fragrant steam rose and tickled her nose.

“Ann Marie married Michael Artman from your class. They came out to work in Nairobi with our mission last year, and they just had a baby girl. They named her Haley Joy. Oh, you should see her. She is just a little doll. She looks just like her mother.”

“Wow, Ann Marie and Mike had a baby?” It seemed like just yesterday she and Ann Marie had run across the RVA soccer fields, hiked to the waterfalls, and spent time laughing and talking about the future. Life had moved on for her friends and family, but that didn’t bother her nearly as much as realizing she was continents away and missing it all.

Memories filled her mind—her parents and younger brother, Steve; her school days at Rift Valley Academy; the beautiful dark-skinned African students from the Bible college where her father taught; the brilliant aqua Indian Ocean, colorful sunbirds, the purple jacaranda trees, the fresh scent of the rain after months of sunshine and endless red dust.

BOOK: A Man to Trust
3.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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