Child of Grace (Love Inspired) Page 4

  “And when he died, you took that project on.”

  “Yes.”

  She studied him. “That’s quite a commitment.”

  Luke dismissed her comment with a shrug. “I needed some time to decompress from my deployment anyway. And this is a worthwhile project. It’s a way to honor not just Carlos, but all the other young men and women who’ve given their lives in the line of duty. Whose dreams died with them. A lot of them passed through my hands. There were so many we couldn’t save….” His words trailed off, and Kelsey saw a muscle twitch in his cheek.

  The sudden pressure in her throat took Kelsey by surprise. She pushed her plate aside, folded her arms on the table and gave Luke a steady look. “Okay, you’ve convinced me it’s a worthy project. And I’m comfortable we can work together.” Not quite true, but she’d get past that. “Why don’t you fill me in on the ideas you discussed at the board meeting yesterday, and I’ll get back to you tomorrow with some initial thoughts.”

  He regarded her for a moment, his gaze measuring, and then a subtle warmth softened his eyes. “Fair enough.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, he gave her a rapid-fire summary as she scribbled notes. Her tea grew cold, but her heart warmed as the passion Reverend Howard had talked of intensified, convincing her Luke had, indeed, taken on Carlos’s dream as if it were his own.

  When he finished, she flexed her hand and smiled at the page she’d filled. “There’s certainly plenty here to work with. I should have no trouble compiling some preliminary publicity ideas by tomorrow.”

  “Excellent.” He smiled at her, and for some reason the tearoom suddenly felt too warm. “Now I’ve taken up enough of your time for one day.” Setting his napkin on the table, he rose and extended his hand. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  She stood, too. His fingers engulfed hers in a strong grip. “It’s hard to say no to Reverend Howard.”

  “Father Joe’s the same way.” He released her hand. “We’ll have to employ their persuasive skills in our fundraising efforts.”

  She grinned. “True. Few people do a better job of asking for money than the clergy.”

  Eyes glinting with amusement, he pulled a small notebook and pen from his jacket pocket, then bent down and jotted a number with bold strokes. A faint whiff of his appealing, rugged aftershave tickled her nose, and she found herself fighting a temptation to lean closer.

  Thrown by the impulse, she gripped the back of her chair and held on tight.

  He tore the small sheet of paper from the notebook and handed it to her. “That’s my cell number. Why don’t you call me when you’re ready to continue our discussion?”

  His lean fingers brushed hers, and her heart skipped a beat—then lurched into double time.

  What in the world was going on?

  “Kelsey?”

  At his concerned query, she somehow managed to drag her lips into the semblance of a smile. “Yes. Good. I’ll call you.”

  She tried not to squirm under his discerning perusal.

  “Okay.” He pocketed his notebook and pen. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  With that, he strode toward the front door and disappeared to the accompaniment of a cheery jingle.

  Kelsey groped for the edge of the table and sank into the chair she’d vacated, trying to get her pulse under control.

  This was not good.

  For the past seven months she’d coped with mild panic attacks in the presence of powerful men. She was used to the shakiness. The feeling of being off balance. The adrenaline surge.

  This time, however, her reaction hadn’t been caused by fear, but by an equally unsettling emotion. Attraction.

  Kelsey closed her eyes and exhaled. No doubt Dr. Walters would call this progress and be pleased. But Kelsey wasn’t. Because the man in question was here for a very short time on a mission that did not include romance.

  Rising, she steadied herself on the edge of the table and ran a finger over the soft fabric that covered the scar on her shoulder. She couldn’t let this flicker of attraction get out of hand. If she did, it could lead to heartbreak. And scars of a different kind.

  And she’d already had enough trauma to last a lifetime.

  Chapter Four

  Luke paused at the top of the long flight of stairs that led to the lake, determined to finally watch a sunset from the beach. Based on the position of the yellow orb, he still had a good hour before it hit the horizon. And that was okay. He’d have plenty of time to eat the sandwich and chips he’d picked up in Saugatuck after his productive meeting with Dennis Lawson, the manager of the hotel where Carlos had worked during his high school years.

  He drew in a lungful of fresh air, letting the stillness seep into his pores. Only after arriving in Pier Cove had he realized how parched his soul had been for peace and quiet—rare commodities in his prior life.

  And they were his number-one priority for tonight.

  Hoisting his beach chair to his shoulder, he started down the steep flight, juggling a cardboard tray containing a cup of coffee and a white deli bag in one hand while keeping a tight grip on the railing with the other.

  Although his schedule today had been a cakewalk compared to the grueling pace and intensity of battlefield medicine, he was beat. Tension was so much a part of his life, it was difficult to relax. And that led to soul-deep weariness. The kind that sets in after too much stress over too much time. Today’s meetings, which had all involved baring his soul a little beyond his comfort zone, hadn’t helped, either. Dennis, as well as the mayor and the owner of the land the youth program hoped to buy, had all pressed for details about his experiences with Carlos.

  His encounter with his neighbor this morning had also been taxing. In the beginning, anyway. At least they’d parted on better terms after their little tête-à-tête over tea. But she was the most inscrutable female he’d ever met.

  Midway down, Luke paused on the landing to readjust his chair as he thought back over their conversation. He had no idea what several of her remarks had meant. Like the one about decisiveness. Had it been prompted by criticism or envy? And what had the comment about being battle-scarred meant? Was it related to the actual physical scar near her collarbone—or was she referring to emotional trauma?

  With a shake of his head, he continued to the bottom, then pushed his way through the chest-high beach grass toward the open strip of sand. He was not going to let thoughts of his enigmatic neighbor ruin his evening. Whatever her problems, he had other things to—

  His step faltered as he emerged from the grass.

  The mystery woman was seated twenty feet away on the beach.

  Wonderful.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, he sized up the situation. She’d chosen a spot a little to the right of the position she’d occupied on Saturday, angled away from the path. Like him, she was dressed in jeans. A loose fitting knit top disguised her pregnancy, and a jacket rested on the sand beside her, as did an insulated mug with a lid. She was hatless tonight, and the wind was ruffling her silky blond hair as she focused on a pad of paper in her lap.

  In the distance, a family group was gathered around a bonfire. But she seemed as oblivious to their presence as she was to his.

  Good. He hoped she stayed that way.

  Skirting the beach grass, he worked his way down the sand in the other direction, until a good fifty feet separated them. While he opened his chair, sat and retrieved his sandwich from the white bag, he kept an eye on his neighbor. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t notice him until she was ready to leave.

  Unfortunately, his luck didn’t hold that long. As he started on the second half of his turkey sandwich, she looked toward the horizon. A few seconds later, she turned her head in his direction.

  And froze.

  Luke stopped chewing and forced himself to raise a hand in greeting, as the manners his mother had instilled in him kicked in.

  For a moment, he thought she was going to ignore him. Truth be told, he hoped she wo
uld. Then he could focus on the sunset in peace.

  Instead, much to his surprise, she not only returned his wave, she called out to him. Although he strained to hear her words, the wind tossed them the other way, rendering them inaudible. Pointing to his ear, he shook his head.

  She flipped her hand, as if to say forget it, and went back to her notepad.

  Excellent. A reprieve.

  He took another bite of his sandwich. Tried to focus on the horizon. But his gaze kept wandering back to his neighbor. There was something poignant and lonely about the solitary woman on the long stretch of windswept beach. The solitary pregnant woman. Poignant enough to prod him to his feet and push him toward her. His innate humanitarian instincts and sense of Christian charity gave him no option. Even if the selfish part of him said he deserved some time alone, he couldn’t ignore her.

  He called out as he approached, determined not to startle her this time. “The wind’s blowing the wrong direction. I couldn’t hear what you said a minute ago.”

  The setting sun cast a golden glow over her complexion, gilding the ends of her long eyelashes and highlighting her model-quality cheekbones as she looked his way in surprise. The effect was so mesmerizing he had to force himself to pay attention to her words instead of her face.

  “It wasn’t important enough to interrupt your dinner.” She gestured to the half sandwich in his hand.

  He shrugged. “Not much to interrupt.”

  “I only said it was a beautiful evening. And that we should be in for a spectacular sunset.”

  He watched her lips as she spoke. They were nice lips. Full and soft and…

  Luke cleared his throat. Shifted his attention to the horizon. Tried to focus on the clouds massing in the distance instead of on the image of her lips.

  It didn’t work.

  How weird was that?

  Fisting his free hand on his hip, he frowned at the view, trying to make sense of his reaction. He hardly knew Kelsey Anderson. Nor did his neighbor seem interested in changing that situation. Plus, the woman was pregnant. Maybe married. And she had baggage. Lots of it, he suspected.

  There could be only one explanation for the unexpected tingle of attraction he’d just felt.

  It had been way too long since he’d had a real date.

  What else could it be?

  He heard her stir behind him. No doubt wondering why he hadn’t responded to her comment.

  Say something, Turner.

  “Yeah. I’ve been looking forward to my first sunset on the beach.”

  He pasted on a smile and forced himself to turn back to her—just as the capricious wind snatched a loose sheet of paper off her lap.

  Luke took off after it, snagging it as it somersaulted down the beach. Sandwich still in one hand, he glanced at the neat, precise handwriting and the bullet-point outline Kelsey had been compiling.

  A list of PR initiatives for the youth center project.

  He scanned it as he retraced his steps. “Looks like you’ve been putting some serious thought into this.”

  She took the paper and slipped it into the middle of the tablet on her lap. “I promised you some suggestions tomorrow. I’m teaching a class in the morning, so tonight was my best chance to work on them. Besides, I get my most creative ideas here anyway.”

  He surveyed the landscape. “I can see why. And from the quick glimpse I got of your notes, it seems to have been a productive session. So what’s your number-one recommendation?”

  “Media interviews. If you’re willing.”

  “Me?” His eyebrows rose.

  “You have a great personal story to tell that will connect with potential donors and supporters.”

  “This is supposed to be about Carlos.”

  “It is.” She leaned forward, her expression earnest. “And who better to tell the world about him than the man who worked alongside him on the battlefield? Who saw the transforming effect the youth fellowship had on his life. Who was so moved himself by Carlos’s dream to help other young people benefit from that same program that he took on the task of turning the young medic’s dream into reality, as a tribute to him.”

  He stared at her. With her defenses down, her green eyes flashing with enthusiasm and passion, Kelsey Anderson was stunning.

  Wow.

  The spark of attraction flared again, and Luke took a deep breath. Let it out.

  Not part of the agenda, Turner.

  “You’re good.” He strove for a businesslike tone. “If I wasn’t already spearheading this campaign, I’d be ready to sign on the dotted line.”

  His praise brought a becoming flush to her cheeks, and she leaned back in her chair. “Creating buy-in and shaping public opinion was my job for a long time.”

  “And now you make quilts.” Why? Luke didn’t voice that question. But there was a story here. One he wanted to hear.

  “And now I make quilts.” She ignored his implied query, her unwavering gaze telling him to back off.

  He did. For now. Afraid she’d retreat if he didn’t.

  “So what other ideas have you jotted down there?” Again, he gestured to the hidden sheet of paper.

  She hesitated, then drew it out. “I’m not ready to talk about this in detail yet, but if you want to pull your chair over, I can give you a few highlights.”

  “Sold. I’ll be right back.”

  As he retrieved his chair and the rest of his dinner, Luke didn’t waste time analyzing his sudden change of heart about avoiding his neighbor. The reason was obvious. A pretty woman plus a guy who’d gone too long without a date added up to hormones. Nothing more. And there was no harm in enjoying the little flicker of attraction for a few minutes.

  She took a sip out of her mug as he set up his chair beside her, and he tipped his head toward it. “More tea?”

  “No. I get more than enough of the decaf and herbal versions at the shop. This is milk.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I feel about it the way you feel about tea.”

  He didn’t need to ask why she was drinking it.

  “When is the baby due?” He lowered himself into his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

  Her lips flattened, telling him two things. This wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss. And her feelings about her pregnancy were mixed, at best.

  A reaction that only raised more questions.

  “September fifteenth.” She gestured to the tablet. “We’d better talk about this before we lose the light.”

  Luke got the clue and did his best to switch gears. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  As she laid out her recommendations, he continued eating his sandwich.

  In addition to media interviews, she’d come up with a dozen other ideas to garner public support and spread the word about the project, including a fundraising dinner, speaking engagements at local organizations, and a clever way to generate positive publicity for companies who donated goods to the cause, creating a win-win scenario.

  When she finished, he shook his head. “All I can say is, you must have been very good at what you did in the corporate world.”

  Her cheeks pinkened as she slipped the sheet of paper back into the lined tablet and drained her mug. “It’s not difficult to be successful when your job is your life. But that’s not the healthiest way to live.”

  “Is that why you left? To get more balance?”

  She bent down and settled the mug in the sand, hiding her face from his view. “Let’s just say circumstances helped me realize I needed to realign my priorities. Spectacular sunset, isn’t it?”

  Luke checked out the sky. The sun had dipped to the horizon, edging the clouds with gold and tinting the sky—and the beach—pink. It was spectacular. But he was more interested in the woman beside him.

  “Yeah. Fabulous.” Luke leaned back in his chair, out of her line of sight, and studied her. The setting sun continued to cast a warm glow on her profile. But it also highlighted the faint lines at the corners of her e
yes that spoke of weariness and worry. Apparently, realigning her priorities hadn’t erased either of those from her life. Why not? And what “circumstances” had made her ditch the fast track in the corporate world and move to her grandmother’s cottage to make quilts? Where did the absent father of her baby fit into the picture?

  The more he learned about Kelsey Anderson, the more intrigued he became.

  Suddenly, as if sensing his scrutiny, she turned her head.

  He transferred his attention to the sky at once. “I’m glad I didn’t miss this.”

  “It beats anything on TV.” With one more glance at the sky, she tucked her tablet under her arm and swung her legs to the side of the chair. “I’d stay to the end, but navigating those steps is tricky enough when the sun is shining. It’s downright dangerous in the dark.” Her voice sounded nervous, as if she’d once more wrapped herself in a cloak of caution.

  As she struggled to extricate herself from the low-slung chair, Luke rose and held out a hand.

  “You may need to switch to a regular lawn chair soon.” He kept his tone light, hoping she’d accept his help. “They’re a lot higher off the ground.”

  He waited while she considered his hand—and let out a sigh of relief when she took it. He didn’t relinquish his hold until he was certain she was steady on the shifting sand.

  “Thanks.” She sounded a little breathless as she tugged her fingers free and reached down to fold up her chair and snag her jacket off the sand.

  As it had the day of the lightbulb incident, her top slid off her shoulder, revealing the jagged scar near her collarbone. She tugged it back into position before he got a good look, but the quick glance she darted his way told him she was afraid he’d seen it. And was worried he might ask more questions.

  He had plenty of those. But voicing them wouldn’t be smart. If he wanted to know Kelsey’s secrets, he’d have to give her time to get comfortable with him. To learn she could trust him.

  Unfortunately, given her extreme wariness, that could take a whole lot longer than the six weeks he’d be in Michigan.