A Man to Trust (7 page)

But was he the man who should be pursuing her?

Bright morning sunshine filtered through the front windows, adding a warm glow to the bookstore’s interior. Adrie sat on the tall wooden stool behind the sales counter and picked up the latest copy of
Christian Retailing
magazine. Thumbing through the first few pages, she glanced at the headlines, but her gaze kept drifting toward Ross. He sat a few feet away with his eyes glued to the computer screen, his hands hovering over the keys. He hadn’t said a word to her in at least twenty minutes.

She cleared her throat. “How’s it coming?”

He didn’t look up, and a few seconds passed before he spoke. “I’m just checking it over now.” He frowned, scrolled down the page, and typed in a few more things.

She leaned to the left, trying to see the rest of the screen, but his broad shoulders blocked her view. She sat back. He needed to learn how to place orders without her help. But she had a hard time resisting the urge to check his work.

The revenue from their December sales had to carry them through the first few months of the next year. Having the right stock on hand made all the difference between profit and loss. She drummed her fingers on the counter. “Did you add in those Christmas cards we talked about yesterday?”

“Yep.”

“How about the calendars?”

“Got ’em.” He continued to stare at the computer screen.

She pulled in a slow deep breath and focused on the magazine again. She needed to relax and let him do it. That was the only way he would get the experience he needed to run the store. And she couldn’t leave until she was certain he could handle the job.

A pang shot through her heart as she thought of saying goodbye to everyone she loved. Was that what she truly wanted—to leave her grandmother, her job, her church, her friends? Her gaze shifted to Ross again, and the pain cut deeper. Though she had only known him for a few weeks, they were developing a connection she couldn’t deny.

Closing her eyes, she pushed those troubling questions away.

She could not change course now. For fourteen years she had carried one dream in her heart, and she couldn’t imagine any other future. If she wanted to play professionally, she could not stay in Fairhaven. The only orchestra nearby was the Whatcom Symphony. They were a wonderful group, but the musicians were all volunteers. They only played part-time and had to support themselves with other jobs or have spouses who carried that burden.

If she was going to establish her career and support herself, she would have to spread her wings and leave Fairhaven behind. That was the sacrifice she would have to make, so why were these doubts filling her mind now?

Another question burrowed deeper into her heart, stealing her breath away. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if no one wanted to hire her after all the years of work she had put in? What would she do then?

Was that what was really bothering her, or did her hesitation have more to do with the man sitting just a few feet away? Was she willing to give up the possibility of something developing with Ross?

“What do you think about these Christmas novella collections?” Ross asked, still focused on the screen.

She blinked and struggled to find her voice. “The price is good, especially if you order the display set.”

She slid off her stool and stood behind him. “The historical collections usually sell better than the contemporaries.” Leaning over his shoulder, she checked the ordering information on the screen. A warm, woodsy scent floated in the air around him. She pulled in a slow deep breath to steady herself, but that just intensified the delicious scent.

He reached for his coffee and took a drink, but he didn’t look her way. “Okay. I’ll add those to the order.”

Frustration zinged through her nerves. Why was he so focused and businesslike today? Where was the lighthearted banter they usually enjoyed?

She sat on the stool again, her spirit sinking lower. What did she expect? She was the one who told him that she didn’t want to get involved with Eric or anyone—namely him. Talk about squelching a guy’s hopes. But what else could she say? She needed to maintain her distance so neither of them got hurt. That was the right decision…wasn’t it?

Her stomach twisted into a sour knot. She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the pounding over her eyebrows. She needed to take a break before she said or did something she would regret. “I’m going to make some chai.” She stood and walked around the counter.

The bell over the front door jingled. George Bradford stepped in and glanced around the store. Spotting Adrie and Ross, he lifted his hand and waved to them.

A flash of concern shot through Adrie. She had hoped Nana’s old beau might only be in town for a short time, but it looked like this was either a long visit or a permanent move.

A slight wave of guilt washed over her. She wanted her grandmother to be happy, truly she did. And reconnecting with George had certainly lifted her grandmother’s spirits.

“Morning, Adrie. Ross.” George’s gaze traveled around the store. “Is Marian in?”

Ross stood. “Sorry, George, she’s not here right now.” He glanced at Adrie, silently asking if they should tell him more.

She nodded, thankful he picked up on her concern.

“She’s getting a haircut,” Ross added.

“When do you expect her back?”

“Not until later this afternoon.”

He nodded slowly. “Well, perhaps I could write her a note.”

“Sure.” Ross took pad of paper and pen from the back counter. “Here you go.”

George’s eyes lit up, and he pointed to Ross’s camera sitting on the counter by the computer. “That looks like a nice Canon.”

“It is.” Ross picked it up and held it out to George. “Sounds like you know your cameras.”

George chuckled. “That’s been my business for almost forty years.” He lifted the camera to his eye and adjusted the focus. “In fact, that’s why I came back to Fairhaven.”

Ross cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

George handed the camera back. “My sister, Claudia, and her husband, Ray, own Clarkson’s Photography over on Harris Street. Ray has some health issues that are slowing him down, and since I’m retired, they asked if I could come out and keep the studio running for a few months while Ray is on the mend.”

So this wasn’t just a short visit, Adrie noted.

“I’ve seen some of Ray’s photos,” Ross said. “He’s a very talented guy.”

“You’re familiar with Ray’s work?”

Ross nodded. “I had my own photo studio for a couple years. I still do some work on the side.”

“Is that right? Well, no wonder you have such a nice camera.”

Ross grinned and walked around the sales counter. “Would you like a cup of coffee, George?”

“As a matter of fact, I would. Thanks.” He patted Ross on the shoulder, and they walked toward the café discussing the latest lens Ross has purchased for his camera.

It looked like Ross had found a way to connect with George. No surprise there. But would all this talk about photography draw Ross away from his commitment to the bookstore? How long would George be in town? Would he and her grandmother remain friends, or was he hoping for something more?

Chapter Eight

R
oss grabbed a bale of hay out of the trunk of his car and turned to Adrie. “Where do you want this?” The twine cut into his hands as he waited for her answer, but he didn’t mind. This was a chance to help her with a project that seemed important to her.

Yesterday morning she’d called him over to the computer and told him about the scarecrow contest among the business owners in Fairhaven’s historic district.

Scrolling down the page, she pointed out photos of her favorites from last year’s contest. “If we have a prize-winning scarecrow this time, they’ll put it in the paper, which gives us some free publicity and possibly some new customers.”

Ross hoped she was right. Marian had called him in the office last night just before closing to tell him sales were running significantly lower than last year. She hoped things would pick up with the approaching holidays. She asked him to pray they did.

But what if sales didn’t improve? Would he be job- hunting again by New Year’s? He’d never get his photo studio up and running again if he didn’t hold on to this job and build up his savings account.

“Ross, can you bring that hay over here?” Adrie called. She set a black plastic trash bag on the sidewalk next to the bookstore’s front entry where she’d already arranged two large pumpkins, several gourds and some colorful mum plants in bright autumn colors.

Ross lowered the hay bale to the sidewalk and wiped his hands on his jeans. “What’s in there?” He nodded to the trash bag.

She smiled up at him. “Everything we need to make our prize-winning scarecrows.”

He chuckled. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She reached in and pulled out an old pair of denim overalls and a broad-brimmed straw hat. “I’m thinking we want a traditional harvest look, but with our own creative touch.” She set aside the hat and overalls and pulled out two small folding beach chairs and a red-and-white-striped beach umbrella.

He nodded toward the umbrella. “That should get people’s attention.”

“I hope so. I want to impress the judges, but I also want people to stop and take a look.”

He couldn’t help smiling as he watched her. Lately she seemed happier and more relaxed. The faint lines around her eyes and mouth had faded, and the healthy glow on her cheeks made her more attractive than ever. He shifted his gaze away, determined to stay focused on the project. “So what’s the plan?”

“I thought we’d make a guy and a girl scarecrow seated side by side, reading books.” She took a sign from the bag that read
A Harvest of Great Reading at Bayside Books
. “What do you think?”

“I like it, but what’s going to make ours stand out from all the rest?”

“The way we dress them, of course.” With a lighthearted grin, she took out a red plaid flannel shirt, a navy-blue bandanna, a pair of old hiking boots and a rubber mask that looked like an old man’s face.

“I’m not sure that fits your happy harvest theme.” Ross pointed to the mask. “It’s more a haunted house look.”

“Really?” She studied the mask. “Maybe when we dress him and add this cute hat and sunglasses he’ll look more like Farmer Brown than Freddy Krueger.”

Ross chuckled. “Do you have one of those masks for Mrs. Brown?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She sent him another teasing grin and pulled out a Marilyn Monroe rubber face mask.

He whistled. “That’ll stop traffic.”

She gave his shoulder a playful shove. “I should’ve known you’d say that.”

“Who could resist that come-hither look in her eyes?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

She snorted and shook her head. “You’re too funny.”

So much for his attempt at flirting.

Working together, they stuffed the first scarecrow’s body and seated him in the chair. Adrie filled the mask and attached it to Farmer Brown’s neck, while Ross knelt and shoved the scarecrow’s legs into the old boots. Adrie tied the kerchief around the scarecrow’s neck, added the sunglasses and placed the hat on his head at a jaunty angle.

Ross stood, and his gaze slid from the scarecrow to Adrie. A gentle breeze blew a few strands of her fiery auburn hair around her face. She lifted her hand and gracefully brushed them away. Tilting her head, she surveyed her creation. “What do you think?”

Her slim brown corduroys and soft peach sweater accented her trim figure and attractive curves. She was nothing short of… “Beautiful,” he murmured. Had he actually said that out loud?

She turned and sent him a quizzical look, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “What did you say?”

Fire flashed up his neck. “Best scarecrow I’ve ever seen.” He snatched the pair of work gloves off the pile and knelt on the sidewalk. “But he still needs his gloves.”

“Okay.” Her voice still held a question.

He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fumbled with the gloves. “How are we going to get him to hold the book?”

“Maybe we could use rubber bands.” Adrie knelt beside him, holding the scarecrow’s arm still while he tugged on the gloves. “If we set the book in his lap, I can wrap the rubber bands around it and slip the thumbs of his gloves under.” She glanced at him, her eyes wide, waiting for his response.

She was only inches away now, close enough he could see a faint dusting of pale freckles across her nose and the dark sweep of lashes around her amazing eyes. The sweet scent of flowers and sunshine drew him closer. If he leaned down he could kiss her. But a warning pulsed through him. If he crossed that line now, he would destroy his chances. He forced himself to break eye contact.

What had she said? “Rubber bands. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

She took a few from her pocket and secured the book to the gloves. “There. That should do it.” A triumphant smile spread across her face as she rose to her feet.

Ross grabbed a handful of hay to start stuffing Mrs. Brown, but their work felt more like play as he teased Adrie, and she teased him right back. By the time they seated Mrs. Brown next to her husband, they were laughing so hard they had to stop to catch their breath.

He closed his eyes, soaking in the crazy, wonderful feelings zinging through him. How long had it been since he’d felt this alive?

“Hey, quit daydreaming.” She gave his shoulder a playful shake. “We’ve got work to do.”

His eyes flew open. “I’m not daydreaming.”

“Looks like it to me.” She tossed a handful of hay at him.

Grinning, he scooped up some hay and threw it back at her.

She gasped and ducked. “You missed!” Popping up, she made a silly face at him.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that.” He grabbed her arm, pulled her closer and tickled her waist.

Laughing, she bent and tried to squirm away, but he held on tight and continued the game.

“Stop, please, stop,” she gasped, still laughing.

“Not until you promise to be good. No more hay in the face.”

“Okay. I promise!”

He dropped his hands and let her go. Chuckling, he leaned in closer. “I didn’t know you were so ticklish.”

Her laughter died. She pulled in a ragged breath. Brushing the hair away from her face, she locked gazes with him. Her pulse pounded at the base of her throat, and all the playfulness vanished from her expression. “I can’t…do this…”

Her words knocked the wind out of him. “I was just playing around. I didn’t mean…” But he couldn’t finish his sentence. It wasn’t true. He did want her in his arms, and he’d thought for a moment she wanted that, too.

With her face flaming, she spun away and stuffed the leftover clothing in the plastic bag. “I’ll finish this later.” She picked it up and fled around the side of the bookstore.

Stifling a moan, he kicked the pile of hay on the sidewalk. “Great!” Now he’d really done it.

Early the next morning, Adrie bent to stretch, and then adjusted the shoelaces on her running sneakers. The sound of the water lapping against the piling of the Taylor Dock created a soothing rhythm, but that did little to calm her restless thoughts.

Pulling back her hair in a ponytail, she set off jogging up the South Bay Trail. Sunlight rippled across the deep blue water of Bellingham Bay, flashing back at her like sparkling diamonds. A few small boats bobbed on the slight swells as a soft breeze fluttered their sails. Overhead, feathery clouds painted long trails across the sky.

She hoped running would clear her head. She hadn’t slept well last night. In fact, she’d lain awake long past midnight while conflicting thoughts about Ross tumbled through her mind. She’d never imagined building those scarecrows together could create so much trouble. But as soon as she had let her guard down, he’d misread her playful attitude and come way too close.

Whose fault was that? If she was honest, she had to admit she’d met each one of his teasing comments and actions with a lighthearted comeback of her own. Why had she let things get so out of hand? What was she going to say the next time she saw him? How could she get things back to the way they were before that heart-racing tickling match?

Heat flashed into her cheeks at the memory of his warm breath on her neck as he’d pulled her to his chest and tickled her until she was gasping for breath and begging him to stop.

Reckless and foolish, that’s what she’d been. This was not the right time to get involved with him. Even if she was staying in Fairhaven, he wouldn’t be right for her. Sure he was fun and handsome, but they were so different. She was quiet and reserved—he was friendly and outgoing. She was serious and meticulous—he was lighthearted and free- spirited. She had grown up with missionary parents and had a solid faith, but he was a new believer, and he hadn’t even mentioned his family.

It would never work. She wouldn’t let it. She couldn’t.

Soon she’d be packing up her car and moving to a new city where she would make a fresh start with new friends who didn’t know anything about her past. But when would that be? She still hadn’t found any open auditions.

Lord, You promised to give us the desires of our heart if we delight in You. And You know my heart’s desire has always been to play my flute professionally. I’ve asked You so many times, but I’m asking again. Would You please open up that door for me?

No sooner had that prayer flown from her lips than she spotted a man standing on the path about fifty yards ahead. He lifted his camera and pointed it toward the bay.

Recognition flashed through Adrie, and she slowed her steps.

Ross lowered his camera, looked her way and lifted his hand. She’d have to speak to him now. Maybe this was for the best. At least they’d have more privacy here than at the bookstore.

He watched her approach with a wary gaze. “Morning, Adrie.”

Her heart sank as she noted the shadows beneath his eyes and the tired slope of his shoulders. Apparently, he hadn’t slept well, either. “Hi. Are you taking pictures?” She groaned inwardly. What a lame observation.

“Yeah. Thought I might capture something special this morning since the weather’s so nice.”

She bit her lip. “I’m just out for a run.” Another brilliant remark.

He glanced down the trail, then back at her. “I’d offer to tag along, but running with a camera might be a challenge.” He tapped the long camera lens and smiled slightly, but she couldn’t ignore the hint of sadness in his eyes. He seemed to be giving her a graceful exit, but that wouldn’t settle the issues between them.

She mustered up her courage. “How about a walk then?”

Surprise flashed in his tired eyes. “Okay.”

They set off at an easy pace, but Adrie’s heart banged in her chest like she was running a marathon. “About what happened yesterday… I think I owe you an apology.”

He shook his head, and shot her an embarrassed glance. “No need to apologize.”

“But I think I may have given you the wrong impression.”

He frowned but didn’t speak.

“The way I was playing around probably made you think that I…that I wanted…”

He held up his hand. “No, your message was loud and clear. I understand.”

If he did, he was a mile ahead of her, because she was still feeling confused. But even through that confusion, she knew she had to make her boundaries clear. “I’m sorry, Ross. I can’t get involved with anyone right now. I need to stay focused on my goals.”

He nodded. “That makes sense. You don’t have to apologize for going after your dreams. That’s something I admire about you. You’re determined, and you don’t let your feelings get in the way.”

“Right.” She nodded slowly. If that was true, then why did she feel so terrible?

“So where does that leave us?”

His pointed question surprised her. “I guess…” She looked into his dark brown eyes and forced herself to say the opposite of what her heart was shouting. “I’d like to be friends.”

He tipped his head and studied her. “Friends?”

She hesitated, then forced out the words. “Yes. Friends.”

“You’re sure?” His eyes narrowed as though reading her inner struggle.

She nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in her throat.

“Well…if that’s the only choice…”