Groom in Training (8 page)

Nick turned to face her, and Steph released Fred’s collar. “Fred, come.”

Fred’s ears perked. He tilted his head, then bounded to his side.

Nick’s head jerked back. “Good boy, Fred.” He opened his hand and gave him a treat.

The dog stood in front of him, wagging his tail.

“Sit.” He pointed to the ground. “Stay.” A grin grew on his mouth as he strode back across the lawn to Steph.

She looked at Fred waiting as he’d been told, his tail smacking the grass.

Nick gave her a wink, then faced Fred. “Come.”

The dog trotted across the grass to Nick’s side and he tossed him a nugget.

Steph settled into a chair on the patio and watched him play with Fred. She’d fought the battle between head and heart since she’d met Nick, and watching him, she battled with her senses again. People could just be friends. Enjoying Nick’s company didn’t have to be a romance. But her unsettling sensations when they were together had become too common. If she could control the emotions that changed friendship to something deeper, she might have a lasting relationship with him. She wanted to follow his lead, to accept their relationship for what it was and let it end there.

Maybe, just maybe, they could talk about it. Really talk. He needed to know where she stood, and maybe if she confessed how he rattled her emotions, he’d stop. But she’d be devastated if he looked at her as if she were crazy, and said, “Who said this was anything but friendship?” She couldn’t take that.

Something bothered Nick. She’d seen it in his eyes even
before they’d discussed her lack of faith, and it troubled her that as great as he was he lived beneath his brother’s control. If Martin moved a finger, Nick filled his wishes. It wasn’t good for either of them, but then how could she—

“I’m serious, Steph.”

She raised her head as her thoughts flittered away.

“Suzette could use training like this. A lot of training. Martin lets her get away with too much.”

Steph drew up her shoulders. “I’m sure she would do well.” She paused, hating to disappoint him. “But the owner has to learn to work with the dog, too.”

A glint flashed in his eyes. “How about the owner’s brother?”

Her heart gave a kick, and she wanted to scream. So much for controlling her emotions. “You’re with Suzette more than Martin, and maybe he’ll take some tips from you.” A smile broke through her emotional frustration. “I’m happy to bring Molly some business.”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “But I’d like you as the trainer.”

She should have guessed. A warm sensation rolled to her chest. More time with Nick. More internal struggle.

“Why not?” she said, knowing they needed to have a serious talk.

Nick jumped Steph’s fence and entered Martin’s house through the back door. He opened the refrigerator, grabbed a soda and popped it open, then leaned against the counter. He liked Steph too much. He’d hoped to remain friends, but his heart hadn’t kept up with his plan. It had bounded on its merry way, leaving him unprotected from more hurt.

Though upsetting, her confession the other day hadn’t surprised him. She’d never said a word about her faith, and
though someone could believe without talking about it, he noticed her tension when he mentioned his beliefs or talked about what God would want him to do.

Now he thought more seriously on the topic. What kind of future would they have? He didn’t know if he should step away and avoid carving another wound in his heart or hope that something wonderful could happen. He’d said it today when she mentioned holding the Bible in her lap. Why had it been there? If curiosity drew her to the Word, the action could be God’s leading. Uncertainty swayed in his mind. One day they needed to talk—really talk—about values and beliefs important to both of them.

Her image clung to his thoughts, and each day he’d watched his admiration grow. Her kindness to his mother overwhelmed him. He couldn’t picture Cara doing that. But Steph did and without being asked. Men weren’t supposed to be weak. He’d never admitted his difficulty dealing with emotions to anyone except Steph. She’d listened and didn’t back away from being honest that she didn’t understand.

Neither did he, but since talking to her and to himself, he’d asked God to forgive him, and now he hoped to make up for his negligence. He’d visited his mom twice in the past few days. She’d been thrilled with the flowers, and he’d noticed improvement in her condition. Steph had said it would happen, and she’d been right.

Steph. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. For so long he avoided dating, even considering another relationship. He’d believed it was the right thing to do, but he sensed the Lord had other plans. Whether Steph or someone else, he realized that love of a man and woman was part of God’s plan. The proof was in Genesis.

Remaining friends with Steph might have worked, but he’d let his guard down, and now he’d fallen for her. In a
big way. Something about her told him she wouldn’t walk out on him if they made a commitment. Steph had too much strength. On the day of the fiasco with Martin, she hadn’t backed down from his brother as many people did. Nick liked that quality. She’d looked determined and spirited, ready for battle. Nick wished he could be that confident.

Martin, on the other hand, looked confident, but his I’m-always-right attitude lacked Steph’s conviction. Martin came off as bullying, and bullies were often cowards. Could it be possible that Martin actually lacked confidence, and his arrogant attitude was a cover? That would make sense. But how could that have happened?

Nick stood a moment, organizing his thoughts. He wanted to understand Martin, and even more he wanted to understand himself. Were the two questions connected?

With his head empty of answers, he drew up his shoulders, then lowered them as he marched into the living room.

Martin sat in a recliner, clutching the phone against his ear. He gave Nick a quick glance, then returned his attention to the telephone call. “Deal with it. I’ll be there tomorrow, Reg. I can’t solve every problem. That’s why I have you.”

Nick strolled to the sofa and stretched out, his ear half tuned in to the conversation while his thoughts clung to Steph. The slam of the receiver jarred his reverie. He swung his feet over the edge of the cushion and sat up. “What’s the problem?”

Martin drew in a lengthy breath and released it in a huff. “Work details. I’ve hired idiots.”

Nick had heard that before, and he knew what was coming next.

The recliner footrest dropped as Martin straightened. “That’s why I wish you’d give up your little business and
work for me. I need someone with a brain.” He pressed his hands against the chair arm and rose.

“Thanks for acknowledging I have one.” The plea was an old one Nick had heard since he’d left Martin’s employ and had gone into business for himself. “But is it necessary to belittle my company, Martin? Give it a chance. No one starts a new company on top. They’re small before they grow.”

His brother swung around to face him. “Why not stay at the top?”

Nick ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to work for you. I’m happy being my own boss. There’s nothing else to say.”

Though Martin’s mouth opened as if to continue, he closed it, and silence fell between them.

Counting the seconds, Nick waited until he couldn’t keep still. “For an intelligent man, you either speak or act before you think. You don’t give me credit for having enough intelligence to run my own business, and you’ve created hard feelings with your neighbor…and a woman to boot.”

“What’s the difference?” He shook his head. “Forget it. I don’t want to argue with you, too.” Martin tossed his cell phone onto the lamp table.

Nick leaned back against the cushion, his mind whirring. “I don’t want to argue with you, either. It seems as if you’d want to try and be neighborly to whoever lives there. It makes life easier.”

Martin snorted. “For you.”

For you?
The comment meant something, but Nick was at a loss.

“Don’t give me that deer-in-the-headlights look. I saw you there today, coming out of her house with her and that mutt. What’s going on between you two?”

The question knocked the wind out of Nick. He’d
wanted to have a serious talk with Martin about his feelings and hoped to get to the bottom of his confusion.

Martin tossed his hands in the air. “I realized she meant more to you than her dog, but I’m not going to jeopardize Suzette for any reason if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

“We’re friends. I admire her, and I’m not doing anything that involves Suzette.” He felt heat rise up his neck and his blood pressure soar. “In fact, dear brother, I spend more time with your dog than you do. Do you realize that?”

Martin rolled his eyes.

“Who runs over here every time you work late or have a business dinner—which is often. Who takes her for walks?” Nick rose and slapped his chest. “Who jumps at your beck and call? And by the way, Suzette needs obedience training. I’m sure you won’t have time for that, either.”

A smirk rose on Martin’s face. “So that’s it.”

Nick drew back. “What does that mean?”

“She’s twisted you around her finger, and now she’s getting even by telling you not to give me the time of day.” His eyes blazed. “I thought you’d given up on women. You’re still moping over Cara.”

“Keep Cara out of this. It has nothing to do with Steph.” Fire burned in his gut. “This has nothing to do with either of them anyway. It has to do with how you treat people.” Martin’s accusation rang in Nick’s ears. He wasn’t moping over Cara. He was wounded by her attack. But why had he clung to it?

“Here’s how I feel.” Martin thrust his index finger at Nick. “This is my home, and I don’t want that mongrel messing with Suzette.”

Nick caved into his chair and threw himself against the cushion. “Martin, Suzette is a dog.”

“An expensive one.” He shook his head and sent Nick a piercing gaze.

“What’s the difference? Fred won’t hurt her.”

“You don’t get it. I paid mucho bucks for a purebred from a good line. I plan to breed her.”

Nick felt his eyebrows arch to his hairline. “You’re kidding. I thought you wanted a companion.” Companion? Suzette had become his companion.

“She is, but I can still breed her. What would I do if she had a litter of mixed puppies?”

Nick gritted his teeth. “Fred’s neutered.”

“It’s a matter of principle.”

Nick straightened his back, his head spinning with revelations he needed to deal with. He’d wanted to ask Martin’s opinion. What made them tick and—Forget it. He’d accomplished nothing today.

“This is a matter of my principle, Martin. The next time you need someone to go for your laundry or babysit Suzette, you’d better find someone other than me.”

Nick rose and marched to the door.

W
hen Steph turned down her street, an older car was parked in front of her house—one she didn’t recognize. When she passed it, Steph spotted a man inside. Her stomach tightened. Hal. His dishwater blond hair hung over his ears as he slouched in his seat. She released a lengthy breath, irked that he’d come without calling.

She supposed he’d warned her with his “I’ll see you soon” as she’d hung up. That had been two weeks earlier. Now here he was. Steph pulled into the driveway, steadied herself and slipped outside.

A thud resounded as Hal slammed his car door and bounded toward her, his long arms open, his lanky body and pale skin making him look as if he’d never seen the sun. “Steph. I’m here.”

She managed to step into his embrace, then back away and studied his face, wishing she had a warmer welcome. “How are you?”

He drew back, still holding her shoulders. “You don’t seem very pleased to see me.”

“I’m surprised. I expected you to call first.”

He lengthened his six-foot frame. “I did. Don’t you remember?”

“I know you called a couple weeks ago, but—” she waved her hand in the air, forcing her lungs to draw in a full breath “—I’m involved in a wedding this weekend so it’s not a great time to entertain.”

He slipped his arm around her shoulder—a warning sign he needed something—and gave her a one-armed hug. “No need to entertain. I can make myself at home.”

That’s what she feared. “How’s Dad?”

“Gnarly as ever.” He dropped his arm and opened the storm door while she slid her key into the lock. “I’ll need one of those.”

Her brows knit together. “One of what?” She knew very well what he wanted.

“The key. I can’t make myself at home without a key.”

She lowered her head rather than make another less-than-pleasant comment.

As soon as his feet hit the foyer, Fred trotted to his side and sniffed his pant leg.

“Scram, buster.”

Too much for Steph, she drew up her shoulders. “It’s Fred, and please say ‘no.’ He understands what that means.” Turning her back on the two of them, she set her tracks for the patio door to let Fred outside; but before she did, Steph had learned to check Martin’s yard. Empty.

That action made her feel resentful, too. Since Martin’s tirade, she’d been guarded about letting Fred outside, and she wanted it to stop. Why did she live in fear of another confrontation with him? Because of Nick, she assumed. That put him in the middle. She didn’t want to do that.

She pulled the door open to let Fred outside. When a new dog came for the first day, she liked to leave Fred
home. Though he was welcoming to other dogs, jealousy came into play when she gave the new one added attention.

Hal stepped outside and scanned the yard. “Looks the same.”

She eyed her flowers that bordered the fence, her neat lawn and the shade trees. What did he expect? She slid open the door, rolling her eyes, and stepped into the kitchen with Hal on her heels.

“What’s for dinner? I’m starving.” He charged past the oak table and tugged open the refrigerator door, then nosed inside.

“Sorry, Hal. I’m leaving for a while. I’ll grab something when I’m out.” She stopped herself from closing the door on his head. As quickly as her frustration came so did remorse. He may have changed. Maybe her dad had become gnarly. “I need to do some grocery shopping. You might find some eggs and cheese in the meat keeper.”

He closed the refrigerator and peered at her. “You want me to cook?”

Her remorse faded. Typical Hal. She shrugged. “Then eat out. There’s Franco’s up the road in a strip mall. Great Italian. Or try Zoup! Wonderful sandwiches and soup. Just south of Wattles, or you probably passed the Ram’s Horn.”

He didn’t look happy, but then neither did she.

Fred barked outside the patio door, and she slid it open. He bounded in and headed for Hal again. Hal opened his mouth, then thought better and wrapped his tongue around no. Fred skidded to a halt.

Steph grabbed her purse, then halted and opened a drawer. “Here’s an extra key to the front. Make sure you lock up when you go.” She took another step, then stopped again. “And keep Fred inside. I have a cranky neighbor.”

Hal gave her a quick nod. “Fine.”

“I’ll see you later.” She left the kitchen, then rolled her
shoulders backward to relax them. Nick’s talk about how God wanted Christians to behave came back to haunt her. Her action and attitude weren’t charitable, and she knew treating her brother badly wasn’t godly. She slipped into her car and pulled away, struggling with the emotion—negative emotion based on nothing but the past. People could change. She’d worked through problems in her life, and she’d changed for the better. She certainly hadn’t transformed to glory as the Bible verses had talked about when she read to Julia, but she’d become more outgoing again and more confident. At least most of the time.

Julia. Guilt spiraled through her. She’d thought about visiting Julia today, and now Hal had motivated her to act on her thought. Part of her wanted to put her feet up and relax. She’d eat cereal or an egg and toast. The last thing she wanted to do was cook a meal.

The rehabilitation center sign appeared ahead, and Steph moved into the right lane, then into to the parking lot. Nick said Julia had made progress, and she’d neglected to go back even though she’d planned to. Julia would want her to read the Bible. She knew it, but she didn’t think that was what kept her from returning. In fact, the Bible had made her curious, and she wanted to know why.

She headed inside and made her way to Julia’s room. At the doorway, she paused in case she was asleep, but Julia turned her head and gave her a crooked smile. Steph entered the room and stood beside her bed. “You look chipper today. How are you?”

“Bettah.”

“Better. That’s great.” She looked around the room and noticed a walker. “Are you getting up?”

Her shoulder lifted in a faint shrug. “Little.”

“A little is better than being in bed all the time.”

“Yes.” Julia grinned.

Steph shifted to the chair she’d occupied the first time she came and sat. Another bouquet had replaced the other. She couldn’t see the card, and the books she’d purchased were still on the table. So was the Bible.

Thinking of things to talk about with someone she barely knew caused her to falter. What topics were appropriate? She couldn’t tell her about her faith issues or her struggle not to fall in love with Nick. There was always Fred. She paused. Hal hardly seemed like an appropriate topic. She really didn’t want to talk about him. She leaned back and released a sigh.

Julia noticed. “Okay?” She pointed to her.

Uncomfortable that she’d been so obvious, Steph leaned forward, managed a smile and changed her mind. “I’m fine. Just a busy day. I have the doggie day care, and when I arrived home, my brother was waiting for me. He came for a visit.”

Julia nodded. “Nice.”

The word was much clearer today, sending a natural smile to Steph’s face. “I’m so glad to hear you talking so much better. I know you’ll be happier when you can talk again.”

“Yes.” Her eyes searched Steph’s. “Motha?”

Mother. Steph controlled her emotions. “My mom died a couple years ago. Her heart. Very quickly.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Thank you. She was a wonderful mother.” And so was Julia. She could tell. Steph would have been more relaxed, helping her with therapy, maybe walking in the corridor, but she suspected Julia wasn’t ready for that yet. She eyed the novels, but her focus settled on the Bible. “Would you like me to read to you?”

Julia’s eyes brightened.

Steph wanted to grasp one of the novels, but she knew what she had to do. She lay her hand on the Bible. “This?”

Julia’s smile answered her question.

This time she opened the pages at the bookmark. She scanned the page, realizing someone else must have read to her. Martin or Nick? “Did someone read to you?”

“Nick.”

Her heart jumped, hearing his name. “I’ll start at 2 Corinthians chapter four. Is that good?”

“Good.” Julia rolled on to her back and used her left hand to bring her right one to her chest.

Steph began the chapter, hearing again the message of the blinded minds of nonbelievers and the veil that kept them from seeing the truth. She read the words, but her mind tried to dissect the meaning. She wanted to understand. God shed light into hearts and took them out of darkness. Was that the emptiness and loneliness she’d felt for so long?

Once again, Nick’s face hung in her mind, glowing with the faith so important to him. She wanted that glow, but it seemed hopeless.

Steph finished verse fifteen and began the last verses of that chapter. “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Her heart leaped with the message, words she struggled to understand, but sensed that she did.
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
She wished she could talk with Nick’s mother, because Julia could help her understand the concept.

Moisture rimmed her eyes, and she lifted her finger and wiped it away, hoping Julia didn’t notice. Frustration anchored her to the chair. How could she ask Nick’s mother when she couldn’t answer?

When she lifted her eyes, Julia looked at her with question.

Instead of talking, she reread the last verses again, then lifted her head. “What is unseen?”

Julia’s eyebrows lifted, then lowered as if she didn’t understand.

“Does this mean people pay attention to the world and everything we can see, but they should be looking at things they can’t see?”

Julia patted her left hand on the bed. “Come.”

Steph rose and sat beside her, wanting to touch her hand, to feel the comfort that her mother had given her when she was a frightened child.

“God.”

“The unseen is God?” She should have known. “God is eternal.”

Julia rested her palm on Steph’s hand. “You. Me.”

“Eternal.” Her pulse fluttered. “We are eternal with God.”

Julia lifted her finger and pointed upward. “Heaven.”

“In heaven.” Steph couldn’t speak with her mind flying in so many directions. She’d envisioned herself vanishing from the earth. Becoming dirt that fertilized the soil. Nothing more.

Julia’s hand pressed hers, and a sense of well-being rolled through Steph like a breeze that ruffled her hair or kissed her cheek. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there.

Nick swung around the doorway, then darted back. His heart rose to his throat—Steph and his mom talking about God. About God? He’d prayed and hoped, but so soon? The
scene amazed him. He stayed out of sight, listening to Steph’s questions and his mother’s one-or two-word responses. He wanted to walk in and answer her questions, explain what he believed, but he couldn’t. He’d listened but shouldn’t have without her knowledge.

When the questions died, he stepped away, then turned and headed back, making as much noise as he could to alert them. When he rounded into the room, his mother smiled, and Steph looked over her shoulder, then rose. Her cheeks flushed as he approached.

“Steph. This is nice.” He carried the bouquet of flowers to his mother and bent to kiss her. “For you.”

“Beautiful.”

He turned to Steph. “Listen to that. She said every letter. Mom’s having problems with
R
s. That’s it.” He gave his mother’s hand a pat and set the flowers on the windowsill, then scrutinized the other flowers. “These are still looking pretty good.”

Nick felt like a voyeur trying to hide his guilt. He wanted to lead the conversation back to the Bible, but he knew it was better to let it drop. “I’d planned to drop by after dinner. I’ll bring those stones over tomorrow so we can get your rock garden set up.”

“Thanks.” She eyed him a moment. “Guess who arrived today.”

“Who arrived?” She didn’t look happy about it. He thought a moment. “Your brother?”

She nodded. “He wasn’t happy that I didn’t cook dinner.”

That made him smile. “I’m glad he came. When I bring those rocks, he can help me get them into the backyard.”

She gave him a doubtful grin. “You think so?”

“You don’t think he’d help if I asked?”

This time she laughed. “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Hal, that’s where I found you last night when I got back.” Steph struggled not to jam her fists on her hips. “Could you turn down the TV?”

Her brother shifted and grabbed the TV remote from beneath him as he lay sprawled on the sofa. He smacked the remote and lowered the volume, then arched an eyebrow at her. “What got you in a huff?”

If she were honest, she’d tell him, but she wanted to follow Nick’s philosophy—God’s, really—to be kind and compassionate. The job was taxing. “We have a lot of things to do tonight.”

“We?” He shifted the sofa pillow beneath his head, his gaze drifting to a sports show.

“Nick should be here any minute, and he’ll need help moving some rocks to the backyard.”

“Rocks? This isn’t prison camp, is it?”

Steph bit her tongue to control her comment. “I hoped you’d be willing to help him.”

“I have a bad back.” He gave a grimace as he rolled to his side. “I’d hurt it again.”

Steph had never heard about the bad back before, but it figured. He’d spent time laying on the sofa since he’d arrived. “Is this why Dad and you had problems?” She motioned to his reclined position.

His attention had drifted back to the TV so her gesture and comment had been lost.

“When’s dinner?”

“After we do the rocks.” She marched into the kitchen, checked Martin’s yard, then let Fred outside.

Eyeing the wall clock, she glanced at her watch. Nick had said he’d be there when she got home at six. She’d gotten hung up at the shelter, and now it was six-thirty. Instead
of wasting time, she made a salad, her eyes drifting to the clock hands. Picking up the rocks had been Nick’s idea, a favor to her, so she couldn’t be angry, but she’d noticed lateness seemed to be part of his character.