Her Minnesota Man (A Christian Romance Novel) (29 page)

O
n Sunday afternoon, Laney sat on the grass near the rocky shore of Lake
Kohlmier
, her arms wrapped around her drawn-up knees as she watched scores of ducks and geese paddle on the water's sun-burnished surface. She'd meant to take a long walk, but she'd become lost in her thoughts and had ended up here at the large pond on the southwest side of town
.

Since Jeb's amazing revelation, she'd had little time to herself. He'
d known she was worn to a frazzle, so after treating her and the Graces to a leisurely after-church brunch, he'd taken her home and insisted that she have a long nap or read a novel or just sit and think for a while.

She'd protested that she had barely seen him since Wednesday. He'd countered that she was running herself ragged, and that she needed some time alone to collect her thoughts.

He was right. Since his homecoming, she'd been through one emotional upheaval after another, and she was a person who needed time to adjust to any kind of change. So even the wonderful news of his salvation had to be examined from every angle before her fluttery heart would calm down.

How would his life be different now? How might their relationship change? Might he, now that he had opened his heart to God, be able to fall in love with her?

She shook her head impatiently. She hadn't known he was a Christian that night when they'd kissed, but
he
had known, and he'd still called
the kiss
a mistake.

Was he worried about their ability to manage a long-distance romance? Because long-distance, it would definitely be. How could it be anything else, given his career and her need to be near the Graces?

While he would almost certainly break with Skeptical Heart, Jeb couldn't live without his music. He hadn't said anything about joining a Christian band, but surely it would come to that. And there just weren't a lot of Christian bands in Owatonna, Minnesota, were there?

"I'm not going to think about that right now," Laney muttered as a quacking flotilla of ducks cruised past her, the ruffles of their wake catching and reflecting rays from the weakening sun.

The temperature was dropping. When a gust of wind tugged at Laney's hair and made her shiver, she straightened her knees, pushing her legs out in front of her, and slid her hands into the pockets of her down vest.

Somewhere nearby, a car door slammed. Laney heard the soft slap of shoes on the paved park road behind her, and then the sound changed to whispery footfalls in the dry grass. She was about to turn her head to see who was approaching when she heard the reassuring rumble of Jeb's voice.

"I wondered if this was still your favorite thinking spot." He reached over her shoulder to wave a lidded paper coffee cup under her nose.

In the steam curling up from the plastic sipping spout, Laney recognized the tempting aroma of a mocha cappuccino. She jerked to life, ripping eager hands out of her vest pockets to claim the treat.

"Thank you," she breathed, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

"I saw you go out with nothing warmer than that vest on." Jeb lowered himself to the ground beside her. "And two hours later, you still weren't back, an
d I worried about you freezing."

He set his
c
offee on the grass and then leaned sideways, reaching into his jacket pocket. He produced a black knit cap, which he proceeded to fit onto Laney's head.

"Who are you?" She was amused by, but didn't resist his ministrations. "The fourth Grace, come to mother-hen me?"

"Something like that." He tucked her ears under the cap, and then he sat back and watched her take a cautious sip of coffee. "Are you okay?"

"I am now." She saluted him with her cup, conveying her gratitude for the coffee and the warm hat. "I was just about to head back to get ready for the baby shower, but now that I've got a ride, I'd love to sit here for a few more minutes."

"I'm on foot." Jeb stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. "Ollie stopped by to borrow my canoe. He'd promised to take a cappuccino home to his wife, so I rode over to Starbucks with him and then had him drop me off here."

"I'm glad you're spending time with him," Laney said. Ollie's church was a different denomination from hers, but he was a fine Christian all the same, and could offer Jeb some good fellowship.

They were silent for a few minutes, drinking their coffee, and then Jeb set his cup on the grass again. Leaning back on his hands, he gazed up at the sky.

"Who's having a baby?" he asked.

"You don't know her," Laney said. "I just met her a few months ago." Remembering how she'd found young Jenna Harris crying her eyes out before the home pregnancy test kits at the drug store, Laney sighed. "Poor little thing."

Jeb turned his head and looked at her, amusement lifting his dark eyebrows. "Explain to me how
you
could feel sorry for a woman who's having a baby."

"She's not married, Jeb. She's a college kid, barely nineteen, and her parents are making her feel like trash. And the baby's father has agreed to share the financial burden, but he refuses to be involved in any other way. So Jenna's all alone."

Like her mother and the Graces, Laney had never been able to turn her back on anyone in need. So she'd taken Jenna to Willie's for a milkshake and had listened to
the girl's sad tale. A few days later, she had invited six of her own friends to a gratis Sunday afternoon party at the tearo
om in order to introduce Jenna.

Crystal Lincoln, Ollie's new wife, had been charmed by the girl and had decided on the spot to throw her a baby shower.

"I still don't understand." Staring at a black duck dabbling near the water's edge, Jeb spoke as though to himself. "How could I have spent so much time with a truly good person and never believed in God until now?"

Laney huffed impatiently. "I'm no Mary
Poppins
, Jeb. I'm not Practically Perfect in Every Way."

He looked at her. "Close enough."

"
No
, Jeb. I'm a sinner, just like you."

"Not like me."

Scowling, he picked up his coffee cup, swirled it as though trying to gauge how much was left, and then tossed his head back and drank deeply.

On the verge of becoming mesmerized by the movements of his throat, Laney blinked hard and switched her focus to the black duck, which was again going bottom-up in search of food.

"Princess, you're nothing like me." The heartbreaking conviction in his voice drew Laney's
gaze back to his face
. "Sassing your mom when you were a kid was nothing compared to—" Shaking his head, he crush
ed the coffee cup in his fist.
"I've done some awful things, Laney. Things I'll never tell you about because you don't need those ugly images in your mind."

Do you honestly think he doesn't take illicit drugs and consort with groupies?

Mrs. Lindstrom's question buzzed like a troublesome insect inside Laney's head, but she mentally swatted it away.

Jeb wasn't that man anymore. He had turned his back on his old life and accepted God's forgiveness.

"You're missing the point," she said. "My disrespecting Mom was one of the sins Jesus died for. Maybe your sins have been more—" She paused to search for the word. "More blatant than mine. But are they worse than mine?" She gave her head an emphatic shake. "Sin is sin, Jeb. It's rebellion against our heavenly Father. He doesn't smile and say, 'Well, that was only a
little
sin. At least Laney Ryland isn't as bad as that awful Jackson Bell.'"

Jeb's mouth twitched, but his amusement was both faint and fleeting. "Pastor Jerry said something like that."

He'd met the head pastor of Laney's church just a few hours earlier, when Laney had introduced them after the worship service. On learning that Jeb was a new Christian with a lot of questions, Pastor Jerry
DeSantis
had offered to speak with him in private. Laney had quickly excused herself, and Pastor Jerry had clapped a fatherly hand on Jeb's shoulder and led him away.

Jeb hadn't even flinched at the unexpected touch. Clutching her Bible to her chest as she stood staring after them, Laney had been so overcome by wonder and gratitude that she'd ended up dashing to the ladies' room for a handful of tissues to mop up her tears.

"I didn't understand until just now," Jeb continued in a low voice. "Thank you."

Laney nodded, then drank some coffee to ease the sudden swelling in her throat.

Childish laughter rang out behind them, and Laney immediately looked over her shoulder. She heard Jeb's amused snort and ignored it. Could she help it if small children drew her attention like magnets?

On the other side of the park road, a little girl who appeared to be three or four years old was frolicking with a huge dog. While an older couple, perhaps her grandparents, sat on a bench and watched with fond smiles, the child threw a spindly leg over the dog's back, mounting it like a pony.

"Go
dis
way, Benny!" she urged, flattening herself against her pet's back and tugging on its left ear. "Go
dis
way!"

The dog carefully lowered himself to the ground. When the girl sat up and nudged his flanks with her tiny heels, "Benny" turned his head and regarded her with patient curiosity.

Remembering Jenna's shower, Laney checked her watch and then got to her feet. "Come on, Jeb. I need to get home."

He rose, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the little girl. Laney tapped his left elbow to get his attention.

"Oh," he said brightly, turning toward her, his eyes round with fake innocence. "Do you want me to go
dis
way?"

Laney laughed and gave him a playful shove.

They dropped their coffee cups in a trash receptacle and walked home in an easy silence, Jeb slowing his steps as usual to accommoda
te Laney's much shorter stride.

When they reached Mulberry Street and Mrs. Lindstrom's charred house came into view, Laney shuddered and looked up at Jeb.

He wasn't looking at the house, but straight ahead, and he was smiling broadly enough to reveal his dimple.

"Share," Laney demanded.

He chuckled. "That little girl and that poor dog. It was like watching a video of you and me."

"Oh, stop." Laney did her best to kill a grin. "You might have given me a piggyback ride once or twice, but I'm sure I never kicked you in the ribs to hurry you along."

"Maybe not," he said, amusement still lurking in his eyes. "But you know I wouldn't have objected. You were the princess and I was your devoted slave."

Stopping on the sidewalk in front of her house, at the very spot where their friendship had begun all those years ago, Laney gazed soberly up at him.

"The princess was equally devoted, Jeb. She still is."

His smile turned disturbingly wistful. "Do you still have that tiara? And the blue dress?"

Laney nodded. "Mom packed the whole costume away years ago. She was saving it for her granddaughters."

"I wish she could have lived to see you with children." Jeb's voice had gone husky.

"Yes.
 
" Hit hard by a wave of longing for her mother, Laney squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn't sure what happened after that, whether she'd reached blindly for Jeb or whether he'd been the one to move, but suddenly she was in his arms and it was right, so very right.

And then it was even more right, because he whispered her name and slid his warm fingers under her chin to lift her face. She opened her eyes, and they gazed at each other for a long, perfect moment. Then he lowered his head and—

Abruptly let her go and stepped back.

Laney nearly stamped her foot in frustration.

A rueful smile lifted one corner of Jeb's mouth. "I just realized we're standing directly opposite Mrs. Schultz's kitchen window. Didn't you say Mrs. Lindstrom is staying with her?"

"Oops." Laney's hand flew to her mouth and she giggled behind it. "I'll bet her nose is pressed against the glass right this min—" She broke off as a gleaming silver Cadillac glided past them and pulled into Jeb's driveway. "Who's that?" she asked.

"No idea."

The vehicle stopped. The driver's door opened. A pair of outrageously long, slim, tanned female legs slid into view.

Jeb groaned.

Laney glanced up and saw his expression darken like a sky filling with thunderclouds. "Who is it?" she asked again.

"Shari
Daltry
."

He sounded about as pleased as Laney felt at tax time when her accountant gave her the bad news, so she figured the woman must be from the media. Yet Jeb avoided those people, and would never have invited one to interview him in Owatonna. So why wasn't he throwing an arm around Laney's shoulders and hustling toward the privacy of his house or her own?

The woman emerged from the Cadillac and balanced gracefully on her mile-high legs, which rose from a chunky pair of shoes with the tallest heels Laney had ever seen. She wore a black leather jacket and the merest suggestion of a skirt, and when she flipped back her luscious auburn hair, Laney saw red.