She loved bluebonnets, and here were endless, undulating drifts of them under a broad sky dotted with cotton-ball clouds. A well-traveled dirt road ran up the middle of the picture and past a bunch of scrubby cedar trees before disappearing over a hill, making Maddie wonder what lay on the other side.
She heard the muffled thuds of Jake’s cane and footsteps on the carpet behind her and was just about to turn when something brushed against her bare leg. Startled, she looked down and saw a large orange cat with ugly brown and black splotches arching against her. When the animal raised its head, she noticed its eyes were crossed. It was also missing a hind leg.
“Meet Tripod,” Jake said.
“Oh, the poor thing.” Maddie shifted the grocery bag to her hip and stooped to pet the unfortunate cat. “I never knew you were a cat person, Jake.”
“I’m not. Travis, my partner, found him on the back doorstep one morning. When we learned our office manager had been feeding him, Travis bought a litter box and invited him to move in. I objected on the grounds that a law office is no place for pets. But Travis presented a convincing argument that nobody could possibly hate a pair of attorneys who provided a home for an ugly, crippled cat.”
Maddie chuckled as she scratched behind Tripod’s ears. “I hate to tell you, Jake, but there are actually people in this world who don’t like lawyers or cats.”
She looked up in time to see him surrender a brief smile, but the humor that lit his brown eyes faded quickly and he averted his gaze. Maddie wanted to shake him and demand to know why he found it so impossible to look at her for more than two seconds at a time.
Sighing inwardly, she smoothed the fur on Tripod’s head with her cupped hand. The cat held still, bearing her attentions with a distinctly uncatlike patience, and Maddie couldn’t help comparing his behavior to that of his master. Jake could give lessons in aloofness to even the most catlike of cats.
He shifted his weight, unconsciously drawing Maddie’s attention to his scars, which were now at eye level. Considering the extent of the damage to his leg, she could only marvel at the courage and determination it must have taken for Jake to learn to walk again.
He noticed the direction of her gaze. “It’s a mess, isn’t it?”
She nodded slowly, then gave Tripod one last caress and stood up. “But God was merciful. You didn’t lose the leg, and you learned to walk again.”
“Merciful?” Jake’s mouth twisted as though the word tasted bad. “Your brother died, Madeline. Excuse me if I don’t see anything ‘merciful’ about what happened that night.”
His belligerent tone and the harsh light in his eyes shocked her, but she reminded herself that a world of pain lay behind them. And this was actually a breakthrough, because it was the first time Jake had mentioned Noah. In the past month Maddie had tried several times to bring her brother into their conversations, but Jake had always been quick to change the subject. It was abundantly clear that he had never accepted Noah’s death.
Maddie sent up a silent, urgent prayer that God would give her the words Jake most needed to hear.
“It still hurts when I think about Noah,” she began carefully. “But I don’t wish him back here, Jake, because he’s with God.” She hesitated. “You believe that, don’t you?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw as his anger faded to a bleak acceptance that tore at Maddie’s heart. “That’s what I was taught,” he said quietly. “But why would a loving God allow—” He broke off and shook his head, looking weary and defeated as he stared at a patch of fading sunlight that had fallen across the richly patterned rug. “I just don’t know anymore.”
Maddie was moved to comfort him with a friendly touch, but she checked the impulse. “Have you ever read the first chapter of Romans?”
“Yeah, sure. A long time ago. But that’s not relevant in today’s—”
“But it is,” she interrupted eagerly. “Nothing could be more relevant, Jake. That chapter says we all know in our hearts that God is real. You’re just tired and confused, Jake, that’s all. The truth is right there in your heart. You just need to be still and let God—”
“Madeline.” He looked pointedly at his watch. “I’m sorry, but as I said earlier, I have to work tonight.”
“I forgot.” Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she emitted a nervous little laugh. “I’m sorry for preaching at you. I promised to make you a quick dinner and then get out of here, didn’t I?”
He nodded. “The kitchen’s this way.”
She followed him into an attractive if somewhat sterile-looking room with bare windows, stainless-steel appliances and empty black-marble countertops.
“I’m not a cook,” Jake said, “but I do have pots and pans and things.” He made a vague, helpless gesture. “Somewhere.”
Hiding a smile, Maddie set her groceries on the counter. When she began unloading her purchases, Jake turned to go. Thinking he might stay for another minute if she said something clever, she racked her brain for a good conversation opener. By the time he reached the doorway, she was desperate and simply blurted, “I like it that you’re not ashamed to be seen in shorts.”
He turned, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise. “I do my best to avoid scaring small children,” he said dryly. “But otherwise, I don’t give it much thought.”
Maddie couldn’t think of a response to that, but as he again turned away, another string of foolish words slid out of her mouth. “I also like that you don’t try to hide your gray hair.”
This time when he looked at her, amusement danced in his eyes. Encouraged, Maddie folded her arms and pretended to study him critically. “You’re a very handsome man, you know.”
Jake snorted. “For an old guy and a gimp?”
“Absolutely.” Maddie flashed a saucy grin. “If I’m not careful, I might fall in love with you.”
His smile flattened. “Then see that you are careful, Madeline. For both our sakes.” He continued to hold her gaze for a moment, his dark eyes unfathomable, and then he walked away.
“Not too bright, Bright,” Maddie berated herself in a whisper as she pulled a small carton of ice cream out of the bag and stowed it in Jake’s empty freezer. How did she always manage to say exactly the wrong thing to him?
In the old days Jake had been easy to talk to. But now it seemed Maddie couldn’t open her mouth without tripping a conversational land mine. Had he really changed that much?
She spotted a CD player next to Jake’s coffeepot and switched it on. As country music filled the kitchen, Maddie realized there were at least two things about Jake that hadn’t changed: he still wore those burnt-orange Texas Longhorn T-shirts and he still listened to George Strait.
Humming along as George sang, Maddie located a large pot and filled it with water for her pasta. As she began putting together a simple tomato-based sauce, her mind wandered over the events leading up to that day last month when she’d seen Jake for the first time in more than five years.
She hadn’t returned from the Middle East on a regular troop transport. Instead, she’d boarded a C-17 hospital plane to accompany a sick, frightened five-year-old boy to Texas.
The child of a deceased American soldier and a foreign national, Ali Tabiz Willis had suffered an injury to his heart in the same bomb blast that killed his mother. Maddie had helped Dr. Mike Montgomery care for the orphaned boy at their combat support hospital, and she’d been standing beside Dr. Mike when he’d placed an overseas call to his friends at Children of the Day and begged for their help in saving little Ali’s life.
Children of the Day had swung into action and lined