A Season for Family (11 page)

O
livia couldn't miss the fact that Heath's countenance had taken a downturn in the few minutes she'd been out of the room. When she stepped back into her cubicle she caught a sullen look that passed between the two men and wondered if something might have happened with Amos to make Heath reconsider his invitation.

“Have you changed your mind about going out?” she asked.

“Of course not.” Heath came to his feet, seemed to shake off whatever was bugging him. He unlatched the front door and held it open. “After you.”

“Don't forget about that favor I asked.” Amos called out a reminder.

“Sure, whatever.” Heath grumbled his response.

He took her hand, pulled her close to shield her from the wind and helped her up into the Biddles' big SUV. The interior was warm as toast because of Heath's thoughtfulness.

“I can't believe they left this car for us to use.”

“They're special people. I've never known anybody quite like them.”

“The way y'all talk about one another, nobody would guess you'd only met recently.”

Heath trained his eyes on the road. “Do you think some folks pass through our lives intentionally, even though it seems like a twist of fate?”

“Are we still talking about the Biddles?”

“Not so much. I was thinkin' more about you and me. Do you believe it's by coincidence that we met in this way and at this time?”

“Heath, God knew everything that would happen in our lives before He knitted us together inside our mothers' bodies. He knew the choices we'd have, the decisions we'd make and the consequences we'd pay. He allowed us to come into the world anyway, for better or worse. Nothing happens by chance because God causes all things to work together for those of us who love Him.”

She saw Heath smile in the soft red glow of the dashboard dials. “You gave me another dose before I even asked for it. That's second nature to you, isn't it?”

She stuffed her gloved hands deeper into the pockets of her cozy winter coat.

“It hasn't always been that way,” she admitted. “I was so angry with God a time or two that I wouldn't even speak with Him, much less live my life for Him.”

“You're talking about losing your folks, right?”

“Yeah.” Olivia wondered how much more she should say. This was not the conversation she'd intended to have during this short time together, but Heath was asking direct questions. She wanted to be honest and up-front about her past, just as he'd been.

“My mother's death and then my father's disappearance were each devastating in their own way. But then you add the public trashing of our name and my being
ostracized by family members who were afraid of being associated with my lying thief of a father. The straw that broke the camel's back for me was the loss of my home. That'll make you pretty mad at the God of the universe who's supposed to love and provide for you. That's why I understand the anger my clients are feeling.”

With his eyes still on the road ahead, Heath reached across the space between them to give a consoling touch to her wrist.

“How'd you get from all that anger to the peace you have today?”

Olivia slid her hand from her pocket and pressed it against Heath's upturned palm. He laced his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. She looked down at the place where they touched, then glanced up.

“I had to make a choice—run away from God and have no hope at all or trust Him completely and believe He would indeed be the Lord Who Provides. As He met all my needs, I began to serve others out of gratitude. That's when I learned what it meant to be His hands and feet in this world. And that's where He showed me He wanted me to feed the spiritual hunger of the people He put in my path as well as their physical hunger.

“There's peace to letting go of control and trusting God to work His plan out in your life. Any effort to struggle against His perfect will is about as rewarding as spitting into the wind.”

“What a visual.” Heath chuckled. His expression was part humor, part disgust. “I think maybe that's what I've been doing for years, spitting in the wind, thumbing my nose to the world and thinking the effort of one person couldn't make a permanent difference.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

Heath was quiet for the time it took him to park the
vehicle in the bakery's mostly empty lot. He turned off the headlights, removed the key from the ignition and twisted to face her.

“Do I still feel one person can't make any difference?” He repeated the question.

He scooped her left hand between both of his and patted lightly, while he seemed to search for the answer.

“Olivia, for years I've viewed my work effort as a plug in a deep, old rain barrel that's full of holes and about to burst at the seams. The water level in the barrel rises as it rains day after day. The plugs leak or pop from the pressure, the water squirts out and more pours in from the top. Thinking like that made me complacent. I started to ask myself ‘Why bother?'”

“So it was boredom with your work that made you take that foolish bet, huh? That's why you came over here and hacked into the city computer system?”

He grimaced, as if a troublesome thought had struck him. “Don't get me sidetracked from your first question, because I want you to hear my answer.”

“Sorry,” she apologized. He was so intent on continuing the thread of this conversation she almost wished she hadn't asked. Olivia had more she wanted to say to Heath before their hour got away from them.

“The long and short of it is that the sting of one fire ant can do some damage before you can squash it. But when every ant in the colony gets the notion to move in the same direction, they can take over Texas and there's not much can stop them.”

Olivia squinted beautiful eyes and tilted her head to one side like a kitten trying to make sense out of its reflection in a mirror. Confusion made her even more adorable. Heath was just about desperate to pull her into
his arms and tell her he loved her, but Amos's words were fresh in his mind.

“We may put others first for a time, but we always slide back into our selfish, pessimistic cocoons.”

The old man came by his opinion through a lifetime of experience. If he was right, it wouldn't be long before Heath turned inward on himself again, forgetting how this moment felt. Olivia had come a long way, all by herself. She ought to have better than another dishonest, self-centered man in her life.

“Give me a second.” She thumped her head with the heel of her free hand as if draining water from her ear, then grinned. “I thought I heard you say something about fire ants taking over Texas.”

Heath grinned back. His metaphor hadn't made much sense.

“I'm doing a lousy job of saying what's in here.” He tapped a finger against his chest.

Heath watched her smile slip away. Her face grew serious. He had to make her understand.

“Being around Table of Hope has shown me that one person's commitment can definitely have an impact. You've made things happen, you have the respect of your clients and your community. And now that you're going to get the chance to put your art out there, you have a barn burner of a future. You did that for yourself, Olivia. You proved to me that one person can make a difference. But you've always shown me that it's when God's people come together that the big jobs get done.”

She lowered her chin, glanced down as if embarrassed.

“You're too kind, Heath.”

“No, I'm not kind at all, and that's what I keep trying to tell you! Spending time with you has made me want
to be a better man, to make a difference the way you have.” He tugged at her hand, made her look into his face. “Listen, before we met I was ready to quit my job, move to the West Coast and start life over. I didn't think anybody would care because nothing I do seems to have a lasting impact. But I've decided I need to stay put, make a better effort at my job and toward the people affected by my work and my life.”

“You're a very intense man, Heath. I can't imagine you ever giving anything less than your best. I'm sure your boss will be glad to have you back in Austin in a few more days.”

Olivia's words were encouraging, but Heath heard sadness in her voice. Amos had been right to warn him off. She needed stability, honesty and trust in her life. And Heath needed to figure out how to have those for himself before he could ever hope to share them with another person. He owed it to the parents who loved him and the sisters who were searching for him to start the learning process with them.

The mood inside the truck was sinking so he bustled Olivia through the freezing parking lot and into the sweetly steamy interior of the bakery. He paid for their espresso double shots, a half-dozen glazed pastries and a sack of assorted rolls fresh from the oven. Then he took a chair across the small table from Olivia, sitting uncharacteristically with his back to the door.

“Oh, my goodness,” she murmured a minute later over the rim of her cup. “This is divine.” With eyes closed she popped the last bite of sausage kolache into her mouth and groaned appreciation.

“I thought you might like somebody else's coffee and sausage rolls before you got back into the kitchen tomorrow.”

“Thank you for being so considerate.” She wiped her fingers on a paper napkin, and then reached across the Formica surface to press her hand over his. He caught her fingertips and folded them protectively in his palm. “Heath, I need to tell you something while I have the chance and the courage.”

“What could you possibly have to say that requires more than your usual nerves of steel?” he quipped, to lighten the solemn moment.

Olivia sat tall, tipped her eyes to the ceiling and pulled in a loud breath. She really did seem to be steadying herself. When her gaze met his again, it was as if her irises had expanded, the dark space of her eyes had grown from evening puddles to midnight pools.

“Heath, I've never known love, not romantic love anyway. I've read that it can take your breath away, make your heart race strangely and cause you to experience pleasure so intense that it's hardly bearable. Until a few days ago those sensations were for other people, not for me.”

His heart thudded, beating an erratic rhythm. She was describing the crazy stuff he was feeling. Thank God it was happening to Olivia, too!

She leaned in and put her weight on her forearms. She moved her face so close he couldn't miss the fact that her thick, black lashes faded to charcoal gray on the tips. He wanted to press his lips to her soft eyelids, spread kisses over her cheeks and capture her mouth until she was breathless.

“I'm askin' you to leave that girl alone,” Amos had nagged. “A leopard don't change his spots.”

“Heath, I love you.” She punctuated the confession by squeezing his hand so tightly his heart felt the pressure.
He willed himself to use his cop's instincts; sit tight, don't react.

When he didn't respond, heavy tears welled in her eyes. She blinked to keep them from falling.

“It's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just needed to get the words out before it was too late and I never got another chance.”

I can't let Olivia say anything more. I can't let her speak words she'll regret when I'm gone.

He yanked her closer, planted an almost-desperate kiss against her mouth, then released her hands and fell away to press his spine to the plastic chair.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that,” Heath said, apologizing for the actions even he didn't understand. He was over his head and out of his league, just as Amos had said. The thought chilled his very soul just as a cold blast of air from an open door sent a shiver down the back of his neck.

“Good evening, Officer!” The lady behind the bakery's counter called to the new arrival. “The usual?”

“To go, Bernice. You're a keeper.” The response came from a familiar male voice. Heavy footsteps moved close. “Well, what a nice surprise on a crummy night.”

Olivia raised her head, a forced smile replacing the shock that had been in her eyes moments earlier.

“Hey, Freddy.” She nodded.

The tall cop stepped into Heath's field of vision, towering over the table. Weatherford took the hand Olivia extended and held on long enough to prove Heath's point.

“I didn't see your red truck outside.”

“I'm here with a friend.” She indicated Heath.

He pushed his chair back and stood, eyeball-to-eye-ball. Man-to-man.

“Heath Stone,” was all he offered, along with the required handshake.

“Have we met?” Weatherford asked.

“Not so you'd remember,” Heath mumbled and took his seat again.

“Heath was helping me with errands the other day when you gave my truck a push.”

The cop nodded, satisfied for the moment. “Everything going okay at your place?” he asked, dismissing Heath and focusing on Olivia.

“We've had some cases of the flu on our staff, like everybody else in Waco, but I think we'll be fine now that we've got some additional volunteers.”

“Your order's ready,” Bernice interrupted.

Weatherford opened his wallet and handed Olivia a business card. “Listen, if you need anything at all, you can call me at that number, day or night. I'll be glad to help out any way I can.”

The headlights of the cruiser outside flashed impatiently.

“Duty calls,” the officer explained to Olivia. With a jerk of his chin toward Heath, Weatherford traded cash for the carryout sacks and cups and headed for the door.

“Now do you see what I mean?” Heath stirred his coffee, kept his head down. “He's the buzzard, you're the bunny.”

She took a sip of espresso and didn't acknowledge the comment he had no right to make. That was only fair, since he hadn't acknowledged the declaration of love he had no right to hear.