A Path Less Traveled (28 page)

“I don’t think
that’s wise.”

“I don’t think
it’s any of your business.” She grabbed a rag and started dusting a table that
had already been dusted.

Hmm, best if he
didn’t respond.

A moment later
Trish stopped and looked his way. “I’m sorry, Andy. You didn’t deserve that.”

He patted the
cushy couch. “Come here.”

Trish dropped the
rag, made her way to the sofa, and plopped down beside him with a tired sigh.
“Things are going so much better right now, but I’m so afraid of doing something
to mess it up.”

Fear. How many
times had he done battle with it himself? “I feel that way sometimes, too, but
fear isn’t from God.”

Trish nodded.
“You’re right, but it’s hard not to be afraid. I need these jobs to support
myself and Bo, but I also need to be painting. I’d like to set up a website to
showcase my art, but there’s not enough ti—”

Bingo! That was
it! “Let me help.”

An exasperated
grunt fell from her lips. “There you go again, bu—”

“Wait, hear me
out. I built my website, so I already know how to do it. The only cost will be
the domain name. I can take pictures of your art to add to the site.”

“I just told you
I don’t have anything painted.”

He leaned forward
and tweaked her button nose. “Yes, but according to your brother you have
paintings all over town. I could probably knock on any door in town and find a
Trish James painting.”

She sent him a
dubious smile. “I’m not sure they’re good enough, and when will you have time?
Sounds like a lot of work.”

“I’ll make time.”
Even as the hope-laced words sounded, he knew it would mean losing a couple of
hours’ sleep for a week or so. So what? If it kept her in Miller’s Creek, it
was worth it.

“I don’t want to
overload you. And what if I get so many orders I can’t keep up?”

“Stop being such
a worrywart.” He grabbed her hand. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to
it.”

She didn’t pull
her hand away, and a flicker of hope sparked in her eyes. “I owe you so much
for how you’ve helped Bo and me. How can I thank you?”

Andy inhaled
deeply. Put up or shut up time. “Let me take you to dinner.”

“I’m sure Bo
would be delighted. Thanks for the invi—”

His pulse roared
in his ears and his mouth went dry. “No. I mean just you and me.”

Chapter 25

“D
elaine, I’ve already
told you, I don’t have an answer yet.” Frustration crept into her tone. “Right
now, things are going well. I won’t know about the move for a few more weeks.”

“How can you say
things are going okay when you’re still just scraping by?”

Trish eyed the
digital alarm clock. Andy would be here in a half hour to take her to dinner,
and she still needed to get ready. “I may just be scraping by, but I’m happy.
And more importantly, Bo’s happy.”

“Have you gotten
any orders from your website yet?”

Fresh anxiety
attacked. She hated that Andy had worked so hard for nothing. “No, but it’s
only been up a week. Andy says it takes a while for the search engines to start
picking you up.”

“Andy says.”
Delaine’s voice took on a mocking quality. Trish could imagine a similar
expression on her face. “It seems to me that you’re putting a little too much
stock in what Andy says.”

Her backbone
stiffened. “He’s done a lot for me, Delaine.”

“No need to
defend him, but if you ask me, he’s escorting you straight to the poorhouse.”

“Look, I’ve gotta
get ready. Can we talk about this later?”

Delaine huffed a
sigh through the phone. “Okay, but Francesca needs an answer soon. I can’t keep
putting her off forever.” Without even saying good-bye, she hung up.

Trish massaged
her stiff neck. Delaine had always been overly dramatic, but she’d also been
right on target when it came to business advice.
Lord, I don’t know who to
listen to anymore. Show me what I’m supposed to do.

Part of the verse
that had been on her heart for months made its way to her thoughts—
don’t
lean on your own understanding.

Trish brought
both hands to her face and peered at the clock. She’d better kick it into high
gear if she expected to be ready by the time Andy arrived. Now if she could
only figure out how to lean on God instead of her own understanding. That, and
figure out what to wear.

Fifteen minutes
later she stood in front of the full-length mirror and examined her reflection,
wishing she had a nicer dress. The slightly faded sundress was more than a
little outdated, but would have to do.

Her stomach did a
saucy pirouette and deposited a sour taste to her tongue. Moving a hand to her
abdomen, she took a gulp of air and let it out slowly. Why did she feel so
frazzled? She’d shared a meal with Andy before, but this time it felt like a
date.

The doorbell
sounded, and her pulse ratcheted up a few notches. She forced her legs to move
slowly to the front door. No sense in getting all bothered about one evening.

But one look at
Andy’s face made her fears return. Excitement bounced in his eyes, and a grin
wider than the Brazos lit his face.

Trish wet her
lips and sent a shaky smile. How she wished she could share in his excitement,
but she couldn’t. One of them had to keep their feet on the ground. She
couldn’t allow things to move too quickly. Not while there were still so many
unknowns.

“You look
stunning. Here, these are for you.” He pulled a bouquet of sunflowers from
behind his back, the pungent smell wafting to her nose.

“How’d you know I
like sunflowers?”

His broad grin
widened even more. “Lucky guess.”

“Let me put these
in water, and then we can go.”

Andy closed the
door behind him. “Can I see the painting you finished?”

“It’s over by the
fireplace.”

He moved in the
direction of her pointing finger and picked up the canvas. When she returned
from putting the sunflowers in water, Andy still stood in the same position,
perusing the painting.

She wiped her
sweaty palms against her sundress. “Well, what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.
You’ve outdone yourself.” His voice was low and throaty.

“I’m glad you
like it. I really struggled with getting the creek just right. I’m still not
sure it’s all that gr—“

“Stop it, Trish.”
The words almost sounded angry, but then his expression softened. “Stop being
so hard on yourself. You asked my opinion and I gave it. I love the painting.”

“Thanks.” She
pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say.

Andy leaned the
painting against the stone fireplace, then grabbed her hand. “Sorry if I
sounded harsh. I just wish you could see your art the way I see it.”

“That’s hard to
do when you’ve struggled to make it just right.”

“I’m sure it is,
but when someone gives you a compliment, take it and keep your critical
thoughts to yourself.” He ended his lecture with a playful tug at her fingers.

Trish pulled her
hand away and forced a laugh, wishing again that she’d declined his dinner
invitation.

* *
* * *

Andy took in the
stunning sight. Bathed in the light of a glorious Texas sunset, Trish stood
perfectly still, like a golden-hued statue carved from the finest marble.

“This is your
boat?” She stared ahead, her mouth half open as they walked side-by-side down
the pier, their shoes thudding against the grayed wood.

He chuckled. “Not
hardly. I borrowed it from a judge friend of mine.”

“You went to all
this trouble for me.” The words were half-comment, half-question as her gaze
danced across the scene.

“It was no
trouble. I enjoyed it, and you deserve it.”

“But it
was
troub—”

He held a finger
to her lips, and she turned her doe-like eyes his way. “Don’t ruin it, pretty
lady. I wanted to do this for you.” He grabbed her hand and climbed in, helping
her into the boat. “Watch your step.” The boat bobbed a bit, and he gripped her
hand to make sure she didn’t lose her balance.

Trish glanced
toward the skirted table, set with flowers and fancy dishes. “I still can’t
believe you did this.”

“Why not?”

She laughed and
shook her head. Her silky brown hair bounced around her tanned shoulders. “It’s
not that I doubt your ability to do it, I just don’t understand why.”

He wrapped an arm
around her waist. “For you. That’s all you need to know.” He delivered a stern
look to let her know this line of discussion was closed. “Allow me to escort
you to our table.”

As if on cue,
Hector Soldano, Juan’s oldest son, moved from beneath the canopy to the table,
balancing a tray loaded with bread, cheese, fruit, and salad. He positioned the
tray near the table.
“Buenos noches,”
he said in his thick Hispanic
accent as he pulled out a chair for Trish.

“You’re in on
this, too?” The incredulous look on her face was priceless.

“Si, señora.
Enjoy the starter course.” He placed the items from the tray on the table.
“I’ll bring out the entrée when we reach our destination.”

“Destination?”
Trish arched both eyebrows inquisitively.

Andy couldn’t
help but laugh. “This may be a boat, but there’ll be no fishing tonight,
especially when it comes to any of the details of this evening. Thanks,
Hector.”

Hector started
the boat engine and set a slow, but steady course toward the sunset.

Trish carved off
a piece of the fresh-baked bread and buttered it, then took a dainty bite. “I
still can’t believe—”

“Hush. Just relax
and enjoy.”

She did as he
asked, to the point that the only sound was the soft purr of the motor and the
water lapping against the edge of the boat. “So do you have ideas for more
paintings?” He sipped sparkling grape juice from the crystal goblet.

“More than I can
possibly ever paint,” she replied drolly. “I’ve done a few sketches. Now I just
have to . . .” She hesitated, as if not quite sure how to voice her thoughts.

“Have to what?”
Andy sliced a piece of Swiss cheese from the block and layered it on the warm
rye bread, then bit into it.

“Would it be
possible for me to get an advance to buy canvases and paints?” Trish’s face was
drawn and tight, like it was killing her to have to ask.

Andy paused in
mid-chew. “Of course. You can’t exactly paint without supplies, can you?”

She shook her
head, her gaze trained on her plate.

He took her hand,
forcing eye contact. “Don’t feel bad about asking, Trish. I’m excited that you
have this opportunity.”

“It’s so
important for the show to go well. I know I need to swallow my pride, but I
can’t help but feel bad. I feel like such a loser having to depend on others.”

“You shouldn’t.
We all need outside help from time to time.” His mind instantly turned to his
father, and the words he’d just spoken attacked his conscience. If he’d taken
his own advice a little sooner would it have made a difference in his father’s
medical condition?

“Where’d you go?”
Trish’s question broke through his muddled thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“You kinda zoned
out on me there, like Bo does when he’s watching cartoons.”

Andy wiped his
mouth on the cloth napkin. “Just thinking about something.”

“Which is a nice
way of telling me to mind my own business. Okay, I’ll choose a different topic.
I still don’t know anything about your family except you have a younger
brother. Matt, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Wow, look
at that sunset.”

Trish faced the
sinking orange orb, and her face softened. She gave a slow blink as the breeze
tousled her hair. “It’s lovely. I wish I had my paints and a canvas. Maybe if I
stare at it long enough, it’ll become etched on my memory.”

Amazing how her
words echoed his sentiments. Only it wasn’t the sunset that swiped his breath.

She swiveled
toward him. “I don’t deserve this, Andy, but thank you. It really is
delightful.”

The smile she
sent reduced him to a puddle of goo, and words eluded him. Rare occurrence for
a lawyer.

“So how’s
business?” Trish lifted a strawberry from the fruit plate.

He shook himself
and took a quick drink. “Better than expected. In fact, when I got back from
the construction site today, I noticed my answering machine is full of
messages.” He just hoped one of them wasn’t from Otis. Hopefully, the man would
take his advice to wait a while longer until Trish had a chance to get back on
her feet.

“Speaking of the
construction site, when will they be ready for me to take over the inside?”

“Probably week
after next.” The boat slowed, and Andy glanced around. Good. They had the place
to themselves.

“Where are we?”
Trish sounded eager and excited, like a child discovering uncharted territory.

“This is Eagle Island. Apparently eagles nest here in the winter.” The soft strains of jazz music
began to waft from the speakers.

Her tawny eyes
widened, gold-flecked in the light. “I’ve lived near here all my life and never
knew this place existed.”

“Really? Then
we’ll have to come back in the winter to scout for eagles. My favorite verse is
the one from Isaiah that mentions how ‘those who wait on the Lord will mount up
with wings like eagles.’”

A faraway look
nestled on her face. “Waiting’s so hard, isn’t it? Sometimes it seems like I’m
in a holding pattern. Then at other times I feel like I’m about to do a
nosedive.”

A pang of hurt
pounded through his chest. “Don’t give up, Trish. God won’t let you fall.”

She smiled sadly.
“I’m trying to hang on. I really am.”

“I know.” He’d
never seen anyone try so hard. Andy reached across the table and caressed her
cheek. “I want to help.”