His genuineness sounded somehow richer when mixed with his gentle humor, and as Rachel sat with her head bowed, she sneaked a glance at Jake through her eyelashes. He looked totally at ease and comfortable in prayer, and it was clear he had a solid relationship with the Lord.
If he hadn’t been sitting next to her on the couch, all one-hundred-percent flesh-and-blood man, she would have figured him to be a daydream she’d woven of the perfect guy. A courageous warrior who served his country. An honest man of strong faith. Kind to children. Funny and handsome and…
Whoa, there, Rache. He’s just visiting. As she managed to get out an “Amen” without sounding too distracted, she opened her eyes all the way, unfolded her hands and tried to remind herself that Jake wasn’t looking for romance. He was leaving for good after the wedding and she’d never see him again.
Too bad. It was hard not to feel disappointment or a little bit wistful as Jake helped himself to generous spoonfuls of their secret-family-recipe tartar sauce, dragged four fries through it, and took a bite. He moaned even before he started chewing.
“I should have added the tartar to the list of blessings,” he quipped, looking about as handsome as any man could with those dimples carved into his lean, sun-browned cheeks.
Her heart gave a little tumble. Of admiration, she firmly told herself, and not of interest. She fastened her gaze firmly on the TV screen and did her best not to look at Jake and his dimples.
Impossible. He leaned close so that their shoulders were almost touching. Only a scant hairbreadth of air stood between the curve of her shoulder and the hard line of his arm. “The tartar’s even better on the fish sticks. I owe you, Rachel.”
“Well, I didn’t plan on charging for the meal,” she joked.
And brought out the warm rumbling chuckle. “I’m doing the dishes and I don’t want a single argument from you. Got that, ma’am?”
“Sorry. You’re outranked.”
“How can you outrank me? You’re not a commanding officer. You’re not even in the armed services.”
“But I have the power to take away the tartar sauce.” How she could banter so easily with this man, she didn’t know.
She only knew that her chest and heart felt warm when Jake gave her a smile with those full-wattage dimples and leaned close to her ear, so close, his breath tickled hot against the curve of her ear. “Go ahead and try.”
“Okay. I will. You watch out, soldier boy.” She dunked a Tater Tot into the pile of tartar on her plate, surprised how she didn’t feel shy at all. It was as if she’d been bantering with this man all of her life.
The brilliance of the September sunset came like peace to the evening. Rachel paused at the sliding door just to take in the awe of magenta streaks painting the sky and bold purple splashes staining the underbellies of the clouds. The colors glowed so brightly in the off-blue sky that the shadows streaking across the back lawn from the tall stand of trees at the property line were amethyst and an incredible rose light graced them.
Why this evening’s sunset seemed particularly glorious, she couldn’t rightly say. Especially when she’d been so beat after a long rough workweek and those last-minute, nerve-racking wedding preparations. Maybe it was the fish sticks and Tater Tots, which were one of those childhood favorites Mom used to make for them when Dad was working late at the diner. Good memories from her childhood always heartened her.
But having Jake and Sally here in this house had lifted her up, too. Having a child in this house, watching an animated movie and now swinging on the swing set in the big backyard stirred a longing inside her. Cooking for a man and child, even people she would never see again after tomorrow, made her wish for her own husband and child.
Maybe it was that over-thirty thing—the biological clock everyone talked about—but watching Jake give Sally a hard push on the swing, sending the girl soaring up high, made her realize how lonely her life was.
Sure, she had a great family, she had a great job and she loved this life God had given her, but her heart was lonely for a man, someone strong and kind and good like Jake, and a little child to love and care for.
She knew if Jake and Sally hadn’t come tonight, the sounds of laughter wouldn’t be shimmering like the rosy light in the air. She would have come home, collapsed in front of the TV and eaten leftovers from the diner, then she would have done a few loads of laundry, caught up on the housework and probably started watering the yard. All the while the big house would have been echoing around her with the memories of family happiness in the past and none for the future.
She was beginning to think the Lord had forgotten about her deepest, most precious prayers. Or maybe He meant for her always to be alone. She hadn’t minded it so much because she’d been so busy helping her sister Amy take care of her son Westin; having a nephew to dote on had filled her heart and her life enough that she didn’t hurt for her own family so much.
And now, Amy had gone and gotten married, which was a great blessing to their family. She’d found a good man who cherished her and Westin, and was always eager to help with anything the family needed. Amy’s new husband Heath spent a lot of time with Westin, and while Rachel was utterly thankful for that, she didn’t see Westin as much.
Why tonight the loneliness felt so keen, like the crisp edge of light too brilliant to look at, she didn’t know. Only she had tears burning behind her eyes and a pain like a blade slicing her heart, and there was no reason for it. Not when she had so much already in her life.
Jake gave Sally another push and paused to watch his niece shrieking with delight as she swept up toward the sky. “Rachel McKaslin. Have I told you why you’re my most favorite person?”
“It wouldn’t be because I’m holding grape Popsicles, would it?”
“Pretty much. You just know where to hit a guy.”
“Oh, you’re wrong there. I never hit. So, are you telling me that there’s truth to the old saying? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”
“I don’t know about the heart, but a grape Popsicle will put you at the top of my list.” He stepped back in time with Sally’s swing as she zoomed backward between them.
There was something awesome about a big tough man being tender with a child. Rachel waited tongue-tied as he gave Sally a big push.
The little girl squealed with joy. “Are those grape?” she shouted as she swept backward between them.
Rachel managed to nod, and the fact that she couldn’t seem to speak didn’t matter as Sally dug the heels of her little sandals into the grass to slow the swing.
“Is that for me?”
“Yep. I hope you like grape.”
“It’s only like my very most favorite!”
Rachel’s heart melted at the sight of the little girl, an orphan and grieving the loss of her parent. Finding the Popsicles in the crowded freezer had seemed like a small thing at the time, and yet Rachel could see God working in her life as clearly as the tentative grin on the little girl’s sweet face. “Grape is my favorite, too. Here you go. Be careful, because it’s already melting.”
Sally took the plastic bowl eagerly with one hand and grabbed hold of the wooden stick handles with the other. She’d been such a quiet little girl until now, more of a shadow than a child, and it was good to see the hint of the child Sally must have been before her mother’s death.
And because she knew exactly how that felt, she added a silent prayer. Dear Father, I know that you’re watching over her. Please keep watching over her.
When she opened her eyes, she realized Jake had stepped away from the swing and was sitting on the closest picnic table bench, watching her with serious eyes.
It was as if in that brief moment