Delivered with Love (27 page)

Claire blinked back tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. "So do I."

"Claire, hand me my Bible." Geraldine pointed.

Claire stood and grabbed the worn-looking book from the nightstand.

Geraldine flipped through the pages and read 1 John 4:9-10." This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins."

God loves me so much he sent his Son to die for me.
The realization washed through her. Claire slipped off Geraldine's bed and knelt on the floor. She desperately needed Him in her life.

Right there in Geraldine's room, with Betty lightly snoring to her right, Claire prayed the prayer to accept Jesus into her heart. And when she opened her eyes, she knew her life was changed forever.

M
ichael lit the candles on the dining room table. "Come join me. The lasagna is ready." He pulled out a chair for Sandy. She scooted herself in but didn't say a word. Michael let her be. She needed time. He knew that.

That afternoon, he and Sandy had worked side by side in the kitchen layering the noodles and cheese and sauce. It was like old times when they were newlyweds. Michael smiled to himself simply thinking about it. They couldn't afford to eat out so they made their favorite dishes at home—together. He warmed at the thought of how much he loved doing simple things with his wife.

Michael grabbed a mitt, opened the oven door, and took out the French bread, then gathered the dressing and salad off the counter. He hoped their conversation over dinner would consist of more than the weather. It would be up to him to keep the dialogue moving.

Sandy looked beautiful. A strand of her raven hair was tucked behind one of her delicate ears. He glanced at her neck. Was that the diamond he bought for her on their last wedding anniversary? The simple gesture of wearing the necklace gave him hope. She reached up and touched the diamond before putting her hand back down in her lap. Was Sandy nervous? Michael didn't want to have that effect on her. He wanted this night to be perfect.

Michael set the food down, then joined his wife at the table. He searched her eyes. When she finally looked at him, he held out his hand.

Sandy hesitated, but then slipped her hand in his.

"I love you." Her hand was soft, dainty, and feminine. He stroked it with his thumb. "And I want to earn your trust."

Sandy's eyes glistened. Was she going to say anything? The silence made his stomach turn. It was as he thought. He'd need to keep the conversation going.

"At Julia's wedding, I want to be able to stand in front of our friends and family as a stronger, more confident couple. It would be good for us—and for Julia." Michael gave his wife's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

Sandy grabbed her napkin and dabbed at her eyes. "I want that too."

Michael felt as if he could dance the tango. "You do?" He touched her arm and smiled.

Sandy let out a long breath. "Yes. I've thought all day about those hard years when we were first married. Your affair with Emily was as much my fault as it was yours. I pushed you away while I was carrying Julia. I remember feeling so scared. Scared to be a mom. What if I couldn't do it? So much responsibility. I shut you out." Her voice shook. "I never meant to hurt you. I was in my own world. I had no idea I was driving you into the arms of someone else."

Michael stood. He held out both of his hands this time.

Sandy came to her feet. And walked into her husband's embrace.

"You're not to blame for what I did." Michael kissed the top of her head. "You had a difficult pregnancy." He touched his lips to her cheek. "And I made a terrible mistake." Michael looked into Sandy's brown eyes. "And I will never hurt you like that again. I promise." He cupped her face between his palms and kissed her gently, then deeply. He wanted her—all of her—right then. He loved his wife's spirit, the very core of her, and he loved her body. "Sandy, I-I—"

Sandy blew out the candles. Then she grabbed Michael's hand and led him upstairs.

Claire rapped on Blake's door. Her insides quivered even though the temperature outside was a comfortable sixty degrees. All afternoon she had ached to see Blake again, especially now that she had accepted Jesus and had decided to stay in Capitola. Samantha stood by her side. Her dimples creased, and she bounced up and down.

"Stand still, you're making me nervous." Claire nudged Samantha.

"I'll know if he's the right one for you. Who knows, I could be meeting the man you marry—"

The words were barely out of Samantha's mouth when Blake opened the door.

"There you are." Blake looked as if he had taken a shower. His hair was still damp, and his chest was bare. "Come in. I'll just be a minute."

Claire and Samantha stepped inside.

Blake disappeared to the back of the house.

"So far so good. That man's got one nice set of abs." Samantha bumped Claire's elbow.

"For your information, that was the first time I've seen him without a shirt." Claire giggled. "But he does, doesn't he?"

Samantha chuckled. "It will be fun to watch the two of you tonight. I'll get a good picture of your relationship."

"Please, Sam, don't pressure me. It'll be hard enough to let him know how I feel without a pair of eyes watching our every move."

"You'll be in your own little world. You won't even notice me."

"Of course we'll notice you." Claire rolled her eyes in a playful gesture.

"How long does it take Blake to get ready?"

"Remember, he's injured. I wonder if he needs help." Claire walked toward the hall. "Blake?"

"I'll wait right here." Samantha took a seat on the leather couch.

A soft moan came from the back room.

"Blake?" Claire called again. She peeked her head into his bedroom.

He wrestled with a shirt. Every time he lifted his right arm, a moan escaped his lips. He tossed his shirt in the corner of the room and lay back on his bed. He was a sight. Claire reined in her thoughts.

"Need a little help?"

Blake sat up. "You could say that." His tone was cool.

Claire strode across the floor and picked up his shirt.
So, even you, the most even-tempered man I know, get a little frustrated, huh?
"Button-down might be easier." Claire walked to his closet and hung up the polo shirt. She fingered his clothes and pictured herself as his wife, picking out his wardrobe. Her cheeks flushed.

"I like the navy blue one." Blake pointed.

Claire unhooked the shirt from its hanger and held it up to him.

Blake slipped his left hand easily through its armhole. His face contorted as he brought his right hand back. Claire guided his arm into the sleeve and pulled the shirt over his shoulders.

She stood in front of him and started buttoning. Standing so near him made her heart race. She needed a distraction. Now was a good time to tell him her good news. "I accepted Jesus into my heart today." She cocked her head coyly.

Blake grabbed Claire with his left arm and swung her around. "Claire, that's amazing!" His grip was strong, and comforting. He set her down. "Tell me about it."

"I was visiting Geraldine. She reminded me that as much as people need each other, we need God more. I realized I wanted Jesus to be the boss of my life."

"I'm so happy for you, Claire. You don't know how much this means to me. My prayer has been answered."

"You prayed for me?" She continued buttoning his shirt.

"Every day."

"You are a good man, Blake Coombs."

"Hey, your salvation is more important than life itself."

Claire looked deep into Blake's blue eyes.

"I want to spend eternity with you."

Claire's heart raced. He cared for her. Was now the time to tell him how she felt? "There's something else I realized—"

"There's more?" Blake raised his brows.

"Excuse me?" Samantha stuck her head into Blake's room." If we don't get a move on, Pearl and Harry will wonder if they've been stood up." She winked at Claire.

Claire fastened the last button. "Blake, I'd like you to meet my good friend Samantha."

Blake turned around. "It's nice to meet you." He held out his left hand.

Samantha took it and leaned in. She whispered something in Blake's ear.

What did Samantha say?

"Shall we go?" Blake handed Claire his keys and grabbed his jacket. They followed Samantha out of the house. "You brought along your bodyguard, huh?" he whispered in Claire's ear.

"What?" Claire scrunched her nose.

"Samantha told me she'd injure my other arm if I hurt you." Blake flashed her a wide grin.

"No!" Claire watched her athletic friend walk toward Blake's truck.

He laughed. "Actually, she said it was nice to finally meet your chef."

"That's more the Samantha I know." Claire allowed her fingers to intertwine with his. "And I do have the best chef in town."

"Not for long. The only thing left on the kitchen repair is for me to pick a paint color."

Claire unlocked the truck's doors. Her stomach twisted. Would she be able to spend as much time with Blake once his kitchen was finished? Not if she didn't make her intentions clear.

Samantha climbed into the back, while Blake sat in front. Claire turned the key and revved the engine. Could she live with herself if she let her fears run her life? She glanced in the rearview mirror for oncoming traffic. It was time to look through the front windshield of her life. She was done being stuck in the past.

Thirty minutes later, Claire sat in front of a campfire. Harry stood next to Blake barbecuing the steaks while Pearl knitted. Samantha set the table. Claire felt Blake's eyes on her. Would he always look at her that way? She hoped so.

"That Blake is one nice young man." Pearl straightened in her chair, her braid resting over her right shoulder. "I'd say you caught yourself a good fish."

Claire smiled at Pearl's choice of words. Even her comments had to do with being in the great outdoors. "I agree. But I haven't caught him yet."

"I see the way you two look at each other. I'd say you're both in the net." Pearl chuckled and continued to knit the baby blanket. "Who knows, one day I might be knitting one of these for you."

"Maybe one day." Claire tucked her hair behind her ear. "Pearl, it's so good to be with you. I needed a night like this." She slumped down in her chair and laid her head back. "It feels good to be with friends."

Harry's voice boomed, "Now, I don't agree with you, Blake. I know how to barbecue. Don't I know how to grill the perfect steak?" He turned and looked at Pearl.

"Yes, dear. If you liked charred beef. Sorry, honey." Pearl shrugged her shoulders. "If Blake thinks it's ready, you should listen to him. Claire says he's quite the cook."

"He's quite the cook, huh? Well, if these steaks are still mooing, we'll know whose idea it was to take them off the grill. "Harry speared a piece and set it on a platter.

"You're cooking tonight, Harry." Blake chuckled. "I didn't mean to cause a problem." He held on to his sore arm.

"No problem." Harry stacked the steaks and covered the grill. He grinned. "I do tend to overcook. You ready, Pearl?"

"Land sakes." Pearl tucked her knitting in her tapestry bag." I'm not used to the meat being done so quickly. Come, Claire and Samantha. Help me gather the rest of the food."

Claire followed Pearl to the RV. Was it only a few months since she had rammed into Pearl and Harry? So much had changed. She was truly independent now, with a roof over her head and a great job helping Geraldine. Not only had Claire found the writer of the letter, but she had found herself too. She was thankful her father was open to a relationship with her. And because of her grandmother, she had accepted Jesus into her life. Her mother would be proud.
Thank you, Lord.

Pearl handed Claire the potato salad and a liter of root beer. She carried the items to the picnic table. Blake was already seated. He winked at her when she approached. "Do you mind handing me my jacket?"

Claire spied the coat sitting on a rock. She needed to talk to Blake about how she felt about him. But first she'd enjoy the dinner Pearl and Harry had prepared. She grabbed the jacket and helped Blake shrug into it, inhaling his familiar scent.

Samantha set the bowl of baked beans on the table. Pearl joined her with the green salad and a platter of watermelon wedges.

"You outdid yourself, my dear." Harry slid in next to his wife, then said a blessing for the food.

"Pearl and Harry, did you hear the news?" Samantha raised her voice. "Claire found her father and grandmother?"

"Here in Capitola?" Pearl's mouth hung open. "How wonderful."

"Claire is her grandmother's caregiver. Can you believe it?" Samantha piled a mound of salad on her plate.

"It's all amazing." Claire poured herself a glass of root beer.

"Didn't I tell you the Lord provides?" Pearl placed a thick wedge of meat on her plate.