The Reluctant Bride (4 page)

“I do enjoy children, but I don't know how I feel about a whole houseful of them.” She stood up and began gathering up the dishes.

“I'll help you,” he offered as he rose from his chair.

“There's no need.”

“You did the cooking. The least I can do is wash the dishes.”

“A compromise?” Micah smiled. “I'll wash, you dry.”

“Fair enough.”

Soon they stood side by side at the kitchen sink, working together for the second time in one day.

“I probably should tell you what happened with Mrs. Winslow and her maniacal driving,” Rob offered as he placed a cup in the dish rack.

“Something good, I hope. Not another accident?”

“No more accidents,” he stated. “She voluntarily gave up her driving privileges. You were only the first in a long line of people to express concern about Mrs. Winslow remaining behind the wheel of any vehicle. So, thanks for your honesty.”

“You're welcome,” she replied and handed him a clean plate. The conversation returned to brothers and sisters, and Rob didn't mind talking about his.

“That didn't take long,” Micah remarked while rinsing the empty dishpan. Then she switched off
the light and they exited the small kitchen, moving into the more comfortable, but not much larger, living room.

“I haven't eaten pancakes since I had breakfast with my sister and her kids a couple of Saturdays ago.”

“I don't know Angela very well, but she's been very friendly to me.”

“She's great even if she does talk me into job fairs,” he conceded. “Is this your work?” Rob motioned toward a set of four small paintings hanging above the sofa. Each picture depicted the same covered bridge flanked on both sides by wooded areas, but each scene brought to life the heart of a different season. From windswept spring to the frigid blast of a winter snowstorm.

In answer to his question, she nodded.

“Micah, these are beautiful.” Rob studied the pieces. “It looks to me like you should
teach art.
To adults, I mean.”

Micah smiled. “I do. At the tech school some evenings.”

“Could I see more?”

“If you like.” Micah led him back through the kitchen to the rear door. Opening it, they entered a tiny workroom enclosed in glass. Micah switched on the light “This is another reason I keep this apartment. It's my favorite room.”

Rob glanced around the room, surveying the work on the canvases Micah had stored there. A ballerina
in midair in soft pastels, a brightly colored hot-air balloon amid a shimmering blue sky, children laughing and playing on a merry-go-round, and several others including ocean and seashore scenes and some small, delicate works of flowers and birds. “These are wonderful…”

“Thank you.” Micah caught her lower lip between her teeth, restricting her smile.

“The kids in the playground and the ballerina…they look like they could walk right out of the pictures…and the ocean…it seems…restless.” He glanced at her with surprise evident in his eyes. “It all looks so real.”

“Thank you,” she said with a light laugh. “It's supposed to.”

“But these are all finished,” he commented. “What are you working on now?”

“An oil painting of an old white church that I discovered one day while I was driving through the country.”

Rob scanned the contents of the room, and not seeing the piece she'd referred to, he glanced up in question.

“I ran out of room in here. The painting is in the back room. I'll show it to you when it's finished,” Micah replied, instantly regreting the insinuation of a future for them. There could be none, and she thought she must be losing her mind even to consider it. She needed a change of subject, a change of mind.

“Do you go to church anywhere?” she asked.

“Not anymore,” Rob answered. “I accepted Christ when I was thirteen, Micah. I was active with the youth group, all the kinds of things you'd expect. Everything seemed great until my best friend, Nick, died. Then…it didn't seem so real anymore. I stopped going.”

“How did he die?” Micah asked hesitantly, not knowing if she should pursue this subject

“Car accident on a rainy night.” Rob checked the clock on the wall over Micah's easel. “It's nearly midnight. I had no idea it was that late.”

Neither had Micah, and she looked toward the timepiece. Midnight. So that's when it ended. Now she knew how Cinderella must have felt. This had to end. Now. Because the more she knew of Rob, the more she wanted to know. The longer they talked, the longer she wanted to talk. And this man, standing in the middle of Micah's paintings, was a man she could love. Easily. Maybe eternally.

“We both have to get up early in the morning. I should be going.”

Yes, Micah thought, you should. But she said nothing as she turned to walk with him to the front door. How could it be so late? Where had the evening gone? Micah swallowed hard, fighting back the words that threatened to flow from her.

They reached the entryway in silence, and when Micah reached for the doorknob, so did Rob. It could have been an awkward moment, but it was
not. Rob's strong hand closed over Micah's as naturally as if he had planned it, his fingers linking through hers, warmth against warmth. Micah bit her lower lip gently as she stood facing Rob in the narrow entryway, wanting him to stay longer, wanting him to go. Dinner together. That's all it was supposed to be. Just pancakes and orange juice.

“Micah…” The tenderness with which he spoke her name calmed the rambling argument running through her head. “I want to see you again. You know that, don't you?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She knew. And if
she
knew, then
he
must know the attraction was mutual. And strong. And crazy.

“Rob, I don't think—”

“Dinner, tomorrow night?” he offered, overruling her objections. “I could pick you up around six-thirty?”

Dinner. It could never be just dinner again. Not with them. “No, I don't think…” What could she say? Micah had never been good at hiding her feelings and she respected honesty too much to really try. “Rob, it just wouldn't be a good idea.”

“I'll take you out for pancakes if you like.” He smiled. Just the way she knew he would.

“No.” She smiled back. “I've reached my quota of maple syrup for the week.”

“Then how about steak and a salad?” He squeezed, then released her hand and Micah wished he hadn't.

“Rob, you don't understand—”

“So, explain it to me.” He stepped out into the courtyard. “Tomorrow. Six-thirty.”

“It won't work. Let's not start—”

“We've already started, Micah. Let's see where it goes.”

Down a dead-end street. That's where it would lead them. But with this man, Micah suspected, it would be an interesting journey.

“You're the one who will regret this,” she offered quietly, truthfully.

“Tomorrow night We'll discuss this reluctance of yours over a meal. Then we'll decide whether or not it's valid. Fair enough?”

“You're a hard man to argue with,” Micah agreed with mixed emotions.

“I chose the right profession, didn't I?” Rob stated more than asked.

Micah cringed. Could he have possibly said anything worse?

Rob hesitated for a moment, standing just outside her door. “Thank you for tonight.”

Micah smiled and nodded. He was welcome, and he knew it.

Then he offered only a quiet “Good night,” and Micah watched him walk through the moonlit courtyard.

“You had dinner with him last night and you're going out again tonight?” Carole shrieked, and Micah
held the telephone receiver away from her ear until Carole quieted down.

“Don't get too excited. We're going out to dinner and then we're going to discuss why we can't see each other anymore,” Micah said as she stared into the mirror above the telephone and applied blush to her cheekbones. “I've got to finish getting ready, Carole. He'll be here by six-thirty and I'm not ready. Could I call you later?”

“You'll be too busy to call me.” Carole giggled. “Forget that nonsense about not seeing him anymore. Hang on to this guy, Micah.”

“Carole—”

“What is it with you and lawyers, anyway?”

Micah froze, makeup brush in her hand. “Why do you say that?”

“That's it, isn't it? There's no other reason not to be crazy about him,” Carole responded sharply. “I know you don't like to talk about your past, but it's ridiculous to let Rob slip away because of something that happened years ago.”

“Carole, if you—”

“So you've been hurt by someone. Big deal! Who hasn't?”

“That was a long time ago, and it's not the only reason.”

“Was the other guy a lawyer, too? Do you not trust any attorneys?”

Micah remained silent for a few seconds, remembering. “He was a college student.” Her voice softened
as she spoke, and she studied her frowning expression in the mirror. “I really don't want to get into this.”

“Maybe you need to talk about it. If not with me, with someone. I remember what happened when you dated Scott. Remember him?”

The government teacher. They dated for several weeks, until he was accepted to law school.

“The minute he started taking night classes, you stopped seeing him. And now Rob, how could you
not
like him…but you won't let it happen!”

Micah's grip tightened on the receiver, Saying goodbye to Scott had been easy, even after several weeks of dating. But Rob… She had spent only a few hours with him, and yet…

“Nothing
is going to happen if you don't let me get ready for my date.” Micah attempted to speak in a lighthearted manner.

“Okay, okay. I'll shut up, but
think
about what you're doing. Think about Rob. About the present, the future, not the past!”

“I'll call you later,” Micah replied before replacing the receiver. And she wondered… Today… tomorrow… Could they be separated from yesterday?

“I
'm really not hungry enough for a steak,” Micah commented as she reviewed the menu. “I think I'll have a salad with the sourdough bread.”

“That's all?” Rob closed his menu.

“That's plenty,” she replied. She wouldn't mention how much she had snacked during the afternoon.

“All right, Miss Shepherd.” He studied her, looking at her that same way he had in his office the first time they met. As if he wanted to say something but wasn't certain it should be said.

“Have we taken a step backward in time that I'm not aware of and returned to the days of ‘Miss Shepherd’ and ‘Mr. Granston’?”

“No, but you've barely said a word since I picked you up, and you're dressed rather businesslike,” he answered from across the table, glancing at what
was visible of the bittersweet-red suit and blouse of oyster white.

It had been a deliberate choice. Micah wanted to have a nice evening, but not too nice.

“You don't like what I'm wearing?” she asked, looking down at her clothes.

“Your outfit accomplishes its purpose,” he stated with the firm line of his mouth curving into a smile.

“So you don't like it?”

“Oh, but I do,” he responded. “It's very professional. If you're ever called upon to represent someone in court, I suggest you wear it.”

Micah's eyes sparked at the sound of his stinging words.

“Then I think it would be appropriate for a meeting with an attorney.”

“This is not a meeting with an attorney,” he replied quietly. “This is a date…a date with a man who is very much interested in you.” He looked away, toward the waiter who approached their table, before returning his gaze to her. “I'm wondering whether your distrust is of me personally or of all men in general.”

“Would the lady care for something from the bar, Mr. Granston?” The question from the waiter sliced into their discussion.

“No,” Rob answered without asking Micah. “Thank you, anyway, Henry.”

The waiter nodded and left them alone again.

“How did you know that I don't drink? You didn't ask.”

“You don't, do you?” Rob responded. “It wouldn't fit with your Christian view of things.”

“That's true, but why didn't the waiter offer to bring something for you? You've given up your Christianity.” Micah's words sounded harsher than she had meant them to.

“I'm in here a lot, and Henry knows I never order anything from the bar for myself,” Rob explained. “I have a brother-in-law who's an alcoholic, and, well, it's not a pretty picture, Micah.”

“Angela's husband?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” he answered and smiled. “It seems I couldn't save my little sister from all of life's heartaches.”

“It was never your responsibility to do that in the first place,” Micah commented.

“Spoken like an only child,” he said quietly.

Rob's remark hurt more than Micah would admit. She slid her menu over to him, and he picked it up, putting it with his as their waiter approached to take their order.

“Why does Angela stay with an alcoholic husband?” she asked once the waiter had left.

Rob shook his head, obviously mystified by the situation. “She says she loves him. She isn't a quitter, you know. She's in it for the duration.”

“No matter what you say?”

“Apparently,” Rob replied. “My advice certainly has not been to stay with him.”

“I see Angela five days a week now since I'm working at Wellspring Elementary for the rest of the year.”

“That's a lengthy assignment for a sub, isn't it? How did that happen?” Rob asked.

“Maternity leave for the regular teacher. It makes it nice for me,” she commented, looking at the dormant fireplace not far from their table. “I enjoy going to the same school every morning, getting to know the children, eating lunch with the same people….”

“If you like familiarity, why haven't you considered accepting a permanent position?”

“I've thought about it, but I haven't checked into it yet. I've only lived in Columbus for two years, and when I came here I wasn't sure how long I would stay. But I like it more than I ever thought I would.”

“As a veteran of thirty-two years, I can say it's a great place to live.”

“So I've discovered,” Micah replied.

“What brought you here?”

Micah laughed softly as she considered her reasoning. “I was looking at a map, and I thought Columbus sounded like a good choice.”

“A scientific approach,” Rob remarked, smiling.

“I was living in Missouri at the time—Kansas City—and I knew it was time to move, but I—”

“Why was it time to move?” he interrupted.

“It was time,” Micah said quietly. The past had come too close to touching her, but how could she explain that to him? “Sometimes you can just feel it.”

Rob searched her face with inquisitive eyes, seeking answers she would not yet give. “Micah—”

“There were problems, family problems when I was a teenager,” she stated in an unsteady voice. “I've been on my own since I was eighteen, and I've lived in quite a few places.” There, she thought. I've said it. Said something, although Micah knew it would not be enough. Averting her gaze, she took a sip of water.

Rob studied her silently for a moment “Eighteen is very young to be on your own. It couldn't have been easy.”

“I got used to it,” she answered truthfully. “Most kids leave home after high school anyway, to get jobs, go to college, whatever….”

“How did you get through college?”

“I worked. Secretarial jobs during the day, waitressing on the weekends. And I earned all the credits I could through a University Without Walls program in the evenings.”

Rob watched her as she explained.

“When I'd finished all the courses I could in that program, I left my office job and waited tables in the evenings so I could attend daytime classes.”

“When did you study?”

“Whenever I could. Breaks on the job, during meals, sometimes when I should have been sleeping,” she said. “It was difficult, but I made it. I'm a teacher.”

“So you are,” Rob agreed. “And a very good one, too, according to my sister. I understand the kids love you.”

“They're a fun bunch of kids to work with.”

“Micah, where are you from originally?”

“California. A small town not far from Sacramento,” she replied as the waiter brought a loaf of sourdough bread to the table with their salads. Micah was glad for the interruption. Talk about hometowns made her even more nervous than the disturbing warmth she found in Rob's eyes.

Time passed quickly as they spoke of the city and their hobbies and a dozen different things. Micah wondered if she would ever work her way to the bottom of the heaping bowl of fresh garden greens. So the talk about her hometown and the past was tabled, at least temporarily. For that, she was grateful. And the conversation they should have been having was forgotten in the midst of their laughter. They weren't good for each other, she knew. So why did it feel so right?

“That was a delicious meal, Rob,” she said and slipped her arm through his as they exited the restaurant more than an hour later. “That bread was wonderful.”

“I'm glad you liked it.” Rob opened the car door for her. “How about a movie?”

“But there's something we need to discuss,” Micah reminded him. “You said you'd let me explain why we can't—”

“Couldn't you explain it to me just as well after the movie?” It seemed the discussion could wait, but the film could not. The movie they wanted to see was due to start in thirty minutes, and they were nearly fifteen minutes from the theater.

Rain clouds threatened when they entered the show, and they found an actual downpour when they came out, one comedy and two boxes of popcorn later.

“I'll bring the car around to pick you up,” Rob said as they stood under the theater's awning.

“No, it's not far. Let's run for it”

“It's pouring. You'll get soaked,” Rob protested.

“You're just afraid I can beat you to the car,” she dared him. Before he could respond, Micah stepped out into the rain, pulling her suit jacket over her head to cover part of her hair, and they both ran through the chilly downpour. Their laughter rose above the heavy pull of the sheets of water drenching them. They reached the car simultaneously, opened the doors and climbed in quickly.

“You should have locked your car!” Micah exclaimed. “It could have been stolen.”

“But aren't you glad I didn't? We'd still be standing out there if I had,” Rob answered.

Their laughter filled the automobile, and Rob wiped the rain from his face.

“How can you run in those shoes?” he asked, watching as Micah pushed wet strands of hair from her cheeks. She worked her fingers through it, untangling what she could.

“I was surprised that I could,” she said, breathing hard from the exhilarating run. “If I had my tennis shoes on, I'd have had a better chance of outrunning you.”

Rob's response came rather smugly. “Don't count on it.”

The smile faded from Micah's face when she looked up at him. In that moment, she realized she didn't want to outrun him anymore. And the deep green of her eyes mirrored her thoughts.

The laughter faded from Rob's voice. The car seemed small; they were so close. Micah wiped a trickle of rain from her cheek, feeling the furious pounding of her heart in rhythm with the rain that fell on the roof, cutting them off from the world and shielding them with a wet curtain of privacy.

“Micah…” Rob spoke her name quietly, and it sounded lovelier than it ever had before. Then he leaned slowly toward her, and when his mouth touched hers, it was warm and undemanding, as though he expected her to pull away. But she did not Rob was kissing her and although she had not wanted to admit it, that was what she had wanted almost from the first moment she met him.

She moved closer to him, placing a hand tentatively against his chest to brace herself and returned his kiss with newly discovered longing.

A sharp crack of lightning caused Micah to jump.

Rob smiled. She could feel the curve of his mouth against her own before the kiss ended.

“Afraid of lightning?” he whispered as they leaned together, forehead to forehead.

Micah smiled, too, with her eyes closed, while she enjoyed the flow of Rob's breath across her cheeks.

“No. I like storms,” she answered. The lightning flashed again.

Rob turned to glance out the window. “Looks like it's slacking up enough to drive home.”

Micah nodded. The storm did seem to be calming down a little, but the rapid beating of her heart was not. “Yes, it has,” she agreed, pulling her wet hair away from her neck and letting it fall down the back of her jacket.

Rob started the engine and maneuvered the car away from the curb. The ride home was quiet Micah spent most of her time staring out the window, watching the lightning grow farther and farther away in the distance.

The rain had picked up in intensity again when they pulled into the last available parking space in front of Micah's apartment

“It's been a lovely evening,” Micah said in a soft voice while she busied herself buttoning her jacket, purposely avoiding Rob's gaze.

“Micah,” he began, drawing her attention to the serious blue of his eyes.

Her mouth felt dry and she swallowed hard. Clasping her hands together in front of her to keep them from fidgeting, she waited for his words.

But looking into the wide green eyes that viewed him so cautiously must have changed Rob's mind because he didn't speak right away. Instead, he touched her cheek tenderly.

“I have to be at school early in the morning,” she managed to say while staring into his questioning eyes.

He studied her expression, one of half confusion and half fear, and his smile alleviated some of both. “All right, Micah,” he replied quietly. “Maybe some other time.”

And maybe not, she thought as she reached for the car door, not waiting for him to open it for her. This would be the end of it; it must be.

“Wait…” His warm hand rested on her left arm. “Don't go.” His words were spoken so softly and with such tenderness, they nearly melted her heart…and her reasoning. Rob's hand moved up her arm to her shoulder and gently he pulled her toward him, into his arms. And when they came together, it was with the same longing she had experienced earlier. But now, their deepening kiss caused Micah to want more and more until

“Rob.” She gasped for breath, pulling away from him. “I have to go in—”

“Don't run away,” he said in a gentle tone. “Don't be afraid of me.”

“I'm not, it's just that—” Micah stopped. She should have told him goodbye last night. Would he ever understand that everything in her life was temporary? She opened the car door, but he reached across her and pulled it shut. Rain trickled down the inside of it.

“You are afraid,” he answered quietly, “but there's no reason to be.”

She knew instinctively she could trust this man although she did not understand why. “I don't want anything to happen,” she insisted.

“Then nothing will,” he replied. “I know what it means to be a Christian, Micah. When I said I was one years ago, it was real.”

She looked over at him only to find a distant look in his eyes, and she waited for his explanation.

“I just couldn't go on with it forever…the way you can.”

“But why? If it was real once, you know it can be again.”

Rob shook his head, but not as emphatically as he could have, Micah noted with hopefulness. Then he continued. “Not now. Maybe someday if I could feel that trust again. But the point to this conversation is that I know you shouldn't be dating a nonbeliever, and you probably wouldn't have even gone out with me under ordinary circumstances.”

“Probably not,” she admitted. “But when Mr.
Lacey had his heart attack and we were there…everything happened so quickly. It seemed logical to want to talk more with you. How could I have known that by the time dinner was over, I'd feel this way about you? I mean, Rob, it was just pancakes!”

“That seemed innocent enough, didn't it?” Rob commented and laughed gently at her words. Then he touched her chin, tenderly turning her focus back to his eyes. “Do you hear what you're saying, Micah? You feel this as strongly as I do.”