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Authors: Robin Lee Hatcher

The Forgiving Hour (23 page)

BOOK: The Forgiving Hour
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“No, I’m not doing anything else. I’d be glad to help.”
Real glad.
He grinned.

“Just a second. Let me find the address. You can meet them there.” She returned to the phone a few moments later. “Here it is.” She gave him the address, followed by directions to the apartment complex near the river.

Dakota wrote it down, then asked, “What time should I meet them there?”

“Hmm …” She hesitated. “You know, I bet it’ll take the guys another hour before they’re all loaded up. But Sara’s at the apartment now, unpacking things she took over herself, so I guess you could go whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“Thanks, Myrna.”

There was a hint of laughter in her voice as she said, “No, thank
you,
Dakota.”

He suspected she just might be playing matchmaker, but since she was aiding his cause, he didn’t object in the least.

He made it across town in record time.

Taking a break from her unpacking, Sara stood at the large picture window overlooking the tree-lined Boise River. It was a beautiful view — tall cottonwoods, their winter-bare limbs revealing nests; clear water rippling over smooth river rocks; stately homes on the opposite bank; and beyond them, mountains rising toward the sky.

The view was the main reason she’d chosen to rent this particular apartment.

It had been nice to be with her parents this past week, sleeping in her girlhood bed, joking and teasing with her family around the supper table, getting to know her sisters-in-law, nieces, and nephews better. But she had to admit it would be good to have her own place again. After so many years with only herself for company, she’d missed her privacy.

That thought made her smile. Who’d have believed she would ever crave solitude?

It hadn’t been easy to reach this point. Those early years in Denver had been filled with pain, regrets, and loneliness.

But I’m never alone, am I, Lord? Thank You for that.

Her spiritual awakening hadn’t been a sudden thing as it was for some. For Sara, it had been a slow and sometimes arduous journey, a path traveled by fits and starts and plenty of questioning. Then one day, about three years ago, the confusion had lifted, like a gigantic cloud blown back by a strong wind, and she’d seen everything clearly. She’d understood then that she wasn’t alone. Not in Colorado. Not in Idaho. Not ever. God was always with her. He’d always been with her, even when she hadn’t known it.

Smiling in contentment, she turned around, knowing she’d better get busy. There were boxes of glasses, dishes, and keepsakes still to be emptied before her brothers arrived with the furniture. She didn’t want any breakables in the way of their clumsy feet.

She was headed for the kitchen when a knock sounded at her door.

“Oh no,” she muttered. “Not yet. I’m not ready for you guys.”

But when she opened the door, she didn’t find her brothers waiting on the other side.

Dakota Conway smiled, just a bit sheepishly. “I came to help with the move.”

“How did you know I was …” She let the question fade away, unfinished. She had a good idea what his answer would be. One of her sisters-in-law was behind this. She would bet money on it.

“I was supposed to meet your brothers here to help unload the trucks. They aren’t here?”

“Not yet.” Sara opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” He stepped into the living room.

“I’d offer you a place to sit, but nothing’s arrived yet.” She swept back the straggling strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail and suddenly wished she’d bothered to put on at least some mascara this morning.

His smile broadened. “I didn’t come to sit. I came to work.” He motioned toward the boxes lining one wall of the dining area. “I can help you unpack while we wait for your brothers.”

“Are you safe around fragile items?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Because my brothers most definitely aren’t. That’s why I brought this load over myself.”

Dakota laughed.

Sara was certain she felt the laughter in her own chest.

“I promise to use extreme care,” he vowed solemnly, the twinkle remaining in his eyes. “Just tell me where to put things, and I’ll get them there in one piece.”

Sara hesitated, mesmerized by the way he looked at her, forgetting momentarily where they were and what they were supposed to be doing.

“Shall we get started?” A corner of his mouth lifted in obvious amusement.

Hoping she’d turned before he could notice her flushed cheeks, she walked to the boxes, snapped open the lid of the one on top, and said, “These things go on those built-in shelves on either side of the fireplace.” Without looking at him again, she grabbed another box of glassware and carried it into the kitchen.

Dakota was encouraged by Sara’s flustered state. With luck, it meant she felt the same attraction he did. Time would tell.

He set the box on the floor, crouched in front of it, and began removing the contents, each item carefully surrounded with bubble wrap. His grin returned as he looked at the collection of teddy bear figurines he’d uncovered. There was a bear dressed as Robin Hood. Next came Romeo and Juliet complete with balcony, followed by an Easter bunny bear, a Christmas angel bear, a little girl bear saying her prayers, a leprechaun bear with his own Irish blessing and pot of gold, and a pair of Thanksgiving pilgrim bears. By the time the box was emptied, he’d unwrapped over twenty-five of the figurines.

As he started carefully placing them on the recessed shelves that bordered the fireplace, he asked in a loud voice, “How long have you been collecting these?”

“What?”

“These little teddy bears.” He glanced over his shoulder just as Sara stepped into view. “How long have you been collecting them?”

“About three years now. I bought one on a whim, and the collection just grew from there.”

“I like them.” He liked the collector too.

Sara came across the living room. Picking up the leprechaun, she said, “This is my latest purchase. I love the blessing.” She read it aloud. “May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. May God hold you in the palm of His hand.”

“He always does, doesn’t He? Hold us in the palm of His hand, I mean.”

She met his gaze. “Yes. He always does.” The look of peace in her eyes was suddenly replaced by one of regret, making her look as vulnerable and fragile as one of her figurines. “I wish I’d always known that. Maybe I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes in my life.”

“What sort of mistakes?” He asked the question without considering the wisdom of it. It wasn’t what she’d done that he cared about, but why it made her look so sad.

“The stupid mistakes of the very young.”

Dakota sensed that a wall had gone up. He wanted to knock it down. He hoped a bit of humor would do it. “And you’re so terribly
old
now, you don’t make mistakes anymore?”

At first there was no reaction. And then, slowly, she smiled. “Old?”

“Ancient wisdom,” he continued. “I’ll bet you’re full of it.”

“I’m not sure I care for the ancient part. Mind if we change it to mature wisdom?”

“No, I don’t mind at all.”
I don’t think I’d mind anything to do with you, Sara.

Her eyes widened, as if she’d read his thoughts. He was sorely tempted to kiss her. He wondered what she would think if he did.

Loud male voices from the landing announced the arrival of the Jennings brothers a moment before one of them pounded on the door.

“Sara, open up!”

“Coming!” She stepped around Dakota and hurried toward the door, looking relieved.

It was probably for the best, he thought. It was too soon to kiss her. But kiss Sara he would, when the time was right.

“I’m not a golfer,” Claire muttered as she swung … and missed. Again.

Kevin swallowed a chuckle. Laughing at her wouldn’t help.

She turned accusing eyes in his direction. “How did I let you talk me into this?”

“Because you knew a game of miniature golf would be fun.” “Fun?”

He ignored her sarcastic tone. “You’ve worked hard all week long. Relax, Claire.” He set aside his putter and walked over to her. “Let me show you something.” He took hold of her right hand and adjusted the way she held the club. Then he stepped behind her. “May I?” He held out his arms on either side of her.

She glanced over her shoulder. When she seemed to understand what he meant, she nodded.

He moved nearer, his chest against her back, and closed his hands over the tops of hers. “Bend your knees just a little bit. That’s the way.” He hadn’t brought Claire here for this reason, but he had to admit she fit rather nicely in his arms.

“Now what?” she asked, turning her head slightly.

She smelled good too.

“Kevin?”

He cleared his throat as he released her and stepped back. “Now take a nice, easy swing, keeping your eye on the ball the whole time. Just follow it through. That’s the way.”

She made a beautiful putt, coming within a foot of the hole. When she turned around and smiled, Kevin felt as if he’d won an award.

This could get interesting.

At nine-thirty that night, the boxes unpacked and the furniture moved into Sara’s apartment, the four Jennings siblings and Dakota sat around a table in a nearby pizza parlor, sharing two large combinations and one medium Canadian bacon and pineapple. Between bites, the brothers cheerfully dispensed one story after another about their “baby” sister.

Fighting her own laughter, pretending an offense she didn’t feel, Sara looked across the table at Dakota and said, “Didn’t you say you were an only child? Well, lucky you.”

“I guess it does have its advantages. I
do
know a whole lot more about you than you know about me.”

She swept a suspicious gaze over her brothers, wondering what they’d told Dakota when she’d been out of the room. Too curious not to, she asked, “Like what?”

“Hmm. Well, for one, you turned thirty-one on January ninth. A belated happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She shot her brothers another look, this one of real disapproval.

Dakota continued with his list of garnered information. “When you were in high school, you won some awards in barrel racing and you competed at the Snake River Stampede. After graduating from Nampa High, you attended one year at BSU where you studied theater arts, but you finished your schooling in Denver, mostly by going to school nights while working a full-time job. Let’s see. A business degree, right?”

BOOK: The Forgiving Hour
4.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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