The Reluctant Bride (6 page)

“I'm trying to think how to describe him. Confident, I guess, and happy…funny…self-disciplined…optimistic…a good judge of people. He'd have made a great lawyer.”

Too soon they reached their destination, and Rob swung open the black wrought-iron gate. They entered, walking through the courtyard to Micah's front door.

“Rachel always said Nick was a gentleman. I think that's a good word for him.”

Micah unlocked the door, and they stepped inside.
“Then Nick was a lot like you,” she offered, looking up at the warmth she knew she'd find in his eyes.

Rob took Micah easily into his arms, gently pulling her close. “You've reminded me to be a gentleman at a most inopportune moment, you know.”

“Sorry.” She whispered the insincere apology with a tender smile.

“Me, too,” Rob responded, the words nearly smothered as his mouth descended to meet hers in a kiss that slowly weakened every fiber of Micah's resolve. But, too soon, Rob pulled away, brushing her forehead with a tender “Good night.” Then he stepped out into the courtyard again and was gone. With no mention of tomorrow.

“H
i, stranger,” Carole said when Micah walked into the otherwise empty beauty salon. “I was just cleaning up. Want to get a sandwich with me?”

“Sure. I didn't have a chance to eat after school. I am kind of hungry.”

“Kind of? I'd think you'd be starved. It's almost nine o'clock.”

Micah shook her head. She hadn't had much of an appetite lately. Not since the strawberry pie.

“So, how's your attorney?” Carole's brown eyes flashed with mischief as she looked up from the sink she was rinsing.

“He's not
my
attorney, or my anything apparently,” Micah replied quietly. She turned down the air conditioner the way she knew Carole did at closing time. “Are you ready to go?”

Carole shut off the water faucet. “I thought you and Rob were doing fine together.”

“Not exactly,” came Micah's soft reply.

“Why not?” Carole persisted. “What happened?”

“I haven't heard a word from him for eight days.”

“But who's counting, right?” Carole frowned and started sweeping the floor. “That seems so odd. I really thought you had a thing going.”

Micah shook her head and reached for the dustpan to hand it to Carole. “Are you almost ready?”

“What did you do to scare him away?” Carole asked bluntly while ignoring Micah's question. “Tell him about your dislike for the legal profession? I swear, Micah, if you don't stop being so paranoid—”

“No,” she interrupted. “Nothing like that. I mean, we had really nice times together. At least, I thought we did. We ate dinner at my apartment that first night. I tried to tell him that I wouldn't be good for him, but he refused to listen. He said he was willing to take that chance. And we've been together two other evenings.”

“Three dates in a row? Then nothing?”

Micah nodded, not trusting her wavering voice with a reply.

“Wow,” Carole commented. “What did you say to him?”

“We've talked about all kinds of things, but nothing that would explain this.”

“Did you get too preachy with him about your Christianity? You have a way of doing that, you know.”

“No, I didn't. Actually, he brought up the subject. And if I seem pushy about it, that's because it's important to me. I certainly don't want a future with someone who doesn't share my beliefs, and I shouldn't even date anyone who doesn't.”

“What harm could dating someone like—”

“If I date a man like that, I could fall in love with him. Then what? Ask him to change? Get him converted?”

Carole shook her head, admitting defeat “I get your point. But what about Rob?”

“He was a Christian when he was younger, but then something happened and he left the church.”

“So he's got two strikes against him—his future clashes in some way with your past
and
he's a nonbeliever. If the picture looks that bleak, why do you care that he's not called? Why not just let him go?”

“Because…” Micah caught her lower lip between her teeth when warm tears filled her eyes.

Carole froze in her steps, studying her friend's troubled expression. “You really like this guy, don't you?”

“I didn't want to, but—”

“But you do. You really do.”

Micah nodded again. “Too much, too soon.”

Carole gave her a generous hug. “You can't possibly care too much. The more the better! And it's certainly not too soon. You're twenty-eight years old, and I haven't seen you serious about anyone in the two years I've known you. I'd say you're long overdue for a full-fledged romance.”

“It takes two to make a romance,” Micah commented. “I thought Rob—”

“Don't give up on him yet. Maybe he's just busy with work or something else.”

“Or someone else.”

“No, now, let's think positive. Maybe he's been sick with the flu or had an accident.”

“Right, Carole. Positive thinking at its best,” Micah quipped and opened the front door.

“Well, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to be helpful. Let's go get some food and we'll devise a plan to rekindle his interest.”

But the only plan Micah would agree to was to wait. If Rob wanted to see her, he would call. And if he didn't, she thought she might die.

Busy with a trial. The message glared at her from the pink While You Were Out note stuck on her desk when she returned to her classroom after supervising lunch in the cafeteria the next day. Micah crumpled the paper with more force than necessary and tossed it into the nearby trash can.

An excuse phoned in to the Wellspring Elementary School office while Micah was busy with the
kids. “Nice knowing you, Counselor,” she murmured as she slammed her books into a disorderly stack. Hot tears burned her eyes and she blinked hard, not wanting them to fall. But it was better this way. She shouldn't have dated him at all. Maybe finally he had listened to her warning and decided he didn't want to take the risk. She couldn't blame him for that He had a lot at stake. “But at least you could have told me in person, not leave a message with a twelve-year-old office volunteer at the school,” she thought aloud.

“Hey, Micah?” Angela burst into the classroom with an abundance of energy. “Heather's with her grandmother, I'm taking the boys for ice cream and we wondered if you'd like to go along.”

Micah pulled a tissue from the box she kept on her desk. “Thanks, but—”

“What's wrong? Are you okay?” Angela noticed Micah's reddened eyes. “Did something happen?”

“I'm all right,” she responded and blew her nose. “But I really don't feel like eating ice cream.” The threatening tears subsided, and Micah was grateful

“Trouble with a student?”

“No,” she answered as she picked up her sweater from the back of her swivel chair. “It's just… there's been a misunderstanding. I really thought that…”

“Thought what? Does this have anything to do with Rob?” Angela asked hesitantly.

Micah glanced up at Angela, who stood awkwardly
inside the doorway, apparently unsure whether to stay or go.

“I'm a pretty good listener, Micah, if you want to talk. If not, I'll understand.”

“He's your brother. I can't talk about him with you.”

“Nonsense. I'm his sister, not his spy. This can be confidential,” Angela replied. “But if you'd rather not—”

“No, it's okay. It's just that, well, you know we went out several times. I thought we both enjoyed it, but—”

“Why would you doubt that? What did he say?” Angela asked.

“Nothing.” Micah gathered her belongings and walked toward the doorway. “That's the mystery. Everything seemed fine after our last date. Then, nothing. I haven't heard from him in more than a week, except for a message called in to the school office explaining that he was busy.”

“Busy? That's all he said?” Angela stepped into the hallway with Micah. “That doesn't sound like Rob.”

“‘Busy with a trial’ was the actual message. But, unless times have changed, court is not in session in the evenings or on weekends.”

“I haven't seen him lately myself, but we've spent so much time moving into our new house, he may have called and I missed it. I'll try to reach him tonight.”

“If you do talk to him, don't mention any of this. I don't want him to feel that he owes me an explanation.”

“Why not? He does owe you one.”

The two women walked out into the bright sunshine. “But three dates don't exactly add up to a relationship.” Did they? No, it wasn't really the dates that caused Micah to believe they had something special. It was Rob's gentle touch and the tenderness in his eyes that had promised more than she had known with any man. Had her heart been wrong?

T
he knocking on the door woke Micah from a restless sleep. The illuminated dial of the alarm clark showed 2:00 am.
Bang, bang, bang.
Before she walked from the bedroom, she grabbed the sweatpants she had left in the nearby chair and pulled them on under the big T-shirt she wore as a nightgown.

“Who is it?” she called in a sleep-filled voice, reaching for the light switch and running a hand through her tousled hair.

“It's me.”

She froze. “Rob?” Ten days had passed since she had last seen him. Ten days with nothing more than a telephone message. Micah pulled open the front door. “It's 2:00 a.m.”

“I know it's late,” he began, “but I just left the office—”

“The office? In the middle of the night?”

“I need to see you.”

Micah stood speechless for a moment, staring into the eyes that had haunted her nights and unsettled her days. “It's been a long time,” she said in a voice much calmer than she felt.

“I've tried to call. We've been in trial—”

“Did Angela ask you to come?” she asked, remembering the conversation she'd had with her friend the other day. She should never have confided in someone so close to Rob.

“Angela?” he asked with a frown. “What does my sister have to do with us?”

Micah shook her head slowly. “Nothing….” Nothing, she hoped.

Rob remained outside the door, his hands sunk into the pockets of his slacks. “Let me explain.”

“There's no need for excuses, Rob.”

“Excuses?” he responded sharply. “Do you think I'd come here at this hour to give you excuses?”

“I don't know.” Her reply came softly. “I don't know what to expect from you.”

He looked away from her, into the dark courtyard, as his anger seemed to fade. “It's this trial, Micah. It's a nightmare.” He paused, looking once again into her doubtful gaze. “We've spent every spare moment rehashing the case in Alsmore's office. Last weekend I had to fly to Phoenix to interview the
client's brother for more details, and I was stuck out there for three days trying to locate the guy.”

Mrs. Poe's upstairs light came on, and Micah and Rob both glanced up at the tiny window to the east of the small rear apartment. Their privacy came to an annoying end when the landlady peered out at them from behind the shade.

“Come in,” Micah offered, opening the door a little wider.

“Why don't you have an answering machine?” he asked as he stepped inside.

“They're so impersonal,” she replied. “Besides, I didn't think I could justify the expense.”

“I've tried to call from the office, but you're never here. And it's been one or two o'clock in the morning before I get home each day. I didn't want to call you so late.”

Rob stepped inside as he spoke, and Micah closed the door, leaning against it for a moment. Was this just an excuse? And did it really matter? Ten days or one hundred, she had missed him.

“Micah?” Rob touched her shoulder.

She turned abruptly and pulled away from the contact. “So,” she began in an unsteady voice, “the trial is going badly?” Micah cleared her throat nervously and walked away from him.

“Yes,” he answered, studying her restless movement “Very.”

“Do you…do you want to talk about it?” Was that why he was here? What did he want from her?
She sat down on the arm of the couch, not too close, not too far away.

“No.” Rob sank into the sofa's worn cushions. His voice, already scratchy and slightly hoarse, grew quiet. “That's all I've talked about for days.”

His tone sounded low and remote, tired and unfamiliar; and it had been so long. Reaching out, almost without thinking, Micah traced a finger down the thin, shadowy line of his unshaven cheek. Seeing the weariness in his eyes, it was easy to forget the rights and the wrongs, the should be's and shouldn't be's.

“You look exhausted,” she said, whisper-soft. “And you must be hungry.”

“Only for the sight of you,” he replied, capturing her hand in a slow, steady movement. Then, raising it to his lips, he pressed a kiss to her palm. Micah thought her heart would stop beating at the feel of his soft touch against her skin.

“Ten days…” Rob's eyes lowered to her lips, softly parted in unspoken response, and his voice was as gentle as a warm caress. “I'd almost forgotten how beautiful you are.”

Ten days. He had counted, and tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Rob,” she murmured, sliding easily into his arms. He held her close, breathing in the fragrance of her hair.

“Missed me?” he whispered.

Micah nodded, her cheek rubbing against the soft fabric of his shirt. “So much.”

“Good,” he replied before kissing the crown of her head. “I'd hate to think I was the only one who was miserable these past ten days.”

She dried her tears on the sleeve of her T-shirt. “When you didn't call, I thought that—” She broke off raggedly.

“That I didn't want to see you?” He cupped her face in his hands. “You can't mean that.”

Micah's mouth turned down in a sorrowful curve. She did mean it; she hadn't known. For ten days and nights, she had not known. “The last time we were together, you said nothing about the next day or the weekend or—”

“Do I need to say those things to you?” He touched the corner of her frown with a warm thumb. “Don't you know I want to be with you? Tomorrow and the next day and the next…”

No, she hadn't known—until now.

Rob's hand slid into the soft curls at the base of her neck, pulling her slowly, gently, toward him. Micah came willingly, her fingers touching the collar of his shirt. As his mouth met hers, the empty days of waiting faded, and the memories of her aching uncertainty dimmed in this meeting of their hearts.

Micah raised one hand to feel the slight roughness of his cheek beneath her fingertips as Rob abandoned her lips for the smooth line of her jaw and the curve of her neck. But when his mouth brushed
the rapid pulse pounding in the slender column of her throat, he hesitated.

“Micah.” Her name was whispered, warm and lovely against her skin.

“Hmm…” She could barely think when he was touching her.

“Honey,” Rob began, his hands tightening on her shoulders, and he raised his head to look into trusting green eyes flecked with gold. The hesitation was gone, replaced by certainty. “Would you make some coffee?”

“Coffee?” Micah's wide-eyed gaze asked more than her one-word question. Had she heard him correctly?

“I came here to see you, to be with you, Micah,” he said, then kissed her forehead lightly, his lips lingering against the pleasant taste of her skin. “Not to take advantage of a sleepy young woman.”

A blush colored her cheeks, and she stared down at the open collar of Rob's shirt. She had dreamed of him, of being in his arms this way; but she hadn't imagined it ending with a cup of coffee.

“Micah, please,” he stated firmly.

She nodded, a little stunned by the interruption. “Coffee,” she repeated and stood up on wobbly legs.

Opening a cupboard door in the kitchen, she stood staring at the contents until she could think clearly again. Then she saw the bread. “Would you like a sandwich? I have ham salad.”

“That sounds great,” Rob answered as he entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching her.

“And I have iced tea, unless you really do want coffee?”

“Tea would be fine,” he responded with a disturbing smile. “Where were you all day?”

“Out in the country working on my painting of the church. There's something about that place that keeps me wanting to go back again and again.”

“Maybe you should attend there if you feel that strongly about it,” he suggested.

“I'd like that, but it's such a long drive,” she commented. “Would you go with me once? Just to see it?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I will.”

She smiled. “Anyway, when I came home from painting, Carole and I went out to dinner and to a play. I didn't get home until after midnight”

“I called at least a dozen times today.” He took the glass that Micah offered him and placed it on the counter. “And every evening this week. Don't you ever stay home?”

Micah cut the sandwich she was working on in half and placed the plate next to Rob's glass on the counter. “I've been home off and on, but I taught adult evening art classes several nights, and I did some private tutoring at a student's home.”

“Didn't you get the message I left at school?”

“Yes.” She remembered how much it had hurt
to read the note. A called-in excuse reminiscent of a phoned-in prescription at the pharmacy. Impersonal, brief, necessary. “You were busy with a trial.”

“I didn't say that. I told the student who answered the phone that I was in trial and couldn't leave a number where I could be reached. I asked that you call me at home that night after midnight.”

Micah returned the leftover ham salad to the refrigerator shelf with a thud. “She didn't tell me that part.”

“Did she tell you the part about how I can barely sleep for thinking about you?” Rob took a drink of the iced tea while watching Micah's face register surprise at his statement.

“Rob, surely you didn't say that to a student?”

He shook his head, his eyes dancing with amusement as he returned the tea to the counter. “No, but maybe she would have remembered the message more accurately if I had.”

“Kids do have a way of remembering things they shouldn't have heard,” she said softly and moved into his arms. Her voice lowered to a gentle whisper. “And you're not the only one who's had trouble sleeping, you know.”

“No, I didn't know,” he replied, his darkening eyes searching her unsmiling face. His arms closed around her with hands strong and firm against her waist “I thought you said you didn't look good in yellow?”

Micah's gaze lowered momentarily to the yellow T-shirt and then raised once again to study the serious slant of Rob's mouth. “I didn't think anyone would see me wearing this old T-shirt. I'm not in the habit of letting people into my apartment at two o'clock in the morning.”

“You'd better not be,” he remarked in a harsh, uncompromising tone.

“Not even you, Counselor?” she teased.

The line of his mouth curved a little, giving way to a suppressed smile. “There are exceptions to every rule.”

The light shining from Micah's clear gaze revealed that Rob was already the exception, to that rule and to others that governed her heart.

“It's been a long ten days, Micah.” His hands slid up into the auburn curls that hung in disarray halfway down her back. “Go away with me tomorrow, just for the day.”

“Where?” she asked, smiling. As if it mattered.

“Away from work, responsibility, humanity…”

“It's supposed to rain all day,” she commented, remembering the weather forecast she had heard. But it could still be a perfect day. “You look so tired, Rob.” Her fingers barely touched his unshaven cheek. “Why don't you get some sleep, then come back around noon. I'll be home from church by then. We could spend the rest of the day here.”

“Here?” Rob studied her face curiously.

“I have plenty of food, and we could unplug the
phone so no one would bother us.” Her voice grew softer as she spoke. “I love to be at home on dark, stormy days.”

“A rainy day in an apartment all to ourselves? That's a dangerous invitation you're issuing, Miss Shepherd.”

Micah knew it was. The whole relationship was dangerous, for both of them. Had she so easily forgotten the rationale that had consoled her during the days of his absence? That they were better parted than they could ever be together? “Maybe we're wrong,” she said in a hushed tone, almost surprised to hear her inner fears spoken aloud. “Maybe—”

“Micah…” Rob's voice remained hoarse, slightly husky as he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. Then his mouth, still moist from his last taste of iced tea, touched her lips in a kiss, light, provocative and deliberately unsatisfying. “Does it feel wrong to you?” was the quiet question asked before the next contact, equally light and much too brief. No, nothing seemed wrong when she was in his arms. No thoughts, no maybes… only feelings. Feelings that she knew would not be enough to see them through. But her reply was lost as Rob's mouth met hers with the firm, slow kiss she longed for, and her gentle response only made it taste even sweeter and more tender than either had imagined.

What were these feelings stirring inside her? It was too soon for love. Much too soon.

“Micah…” Her name was softly spoken, and her eyes flew open at the ache in his voice. “I—”

She waited endless moments. Did he feel it, too?

“I'd better leave,” he said so quietly she strained to hear his words.

Rob kissed her again, his mouth barely touching the soft hair at her temple. “I'll be back tomorrow…with the rain,” he added without smiling. Then he walked away. Micah listened to the front door close behind him.

Standing in the aching loneliness of her kitchen, she traced a finger lightly across her lips, still warm from his kiss. She had waited all these years for love, real love. But it couldn't be found in the arms of a man she barely knew. Not now; not with Rob. The attorney. That's what Rob Granston was and what he would always be.

“Lord, how could this happen? I've been alone all these years but never really felt lonely until now, when I'm away from Rob. Why now? With this man I can't have?” She sighed and hugged her arms close to her.

She was twenty-eight years old. A grown woman. Had she learned nothing from the past? Nothing from her mother's warnings?