“I’m going up to my room to do some homework,” Ty said and left, hollering good night over his shoulder. Holly went to see where her daughter had gone.

  Entering the family room, Holly saw Scott holding Sarah in the rocker, reading her a bedtime story. Her blonde hair was lying delicately on Scott’s checkered flannel shirt. Scott had her complete attention.

  Holly walked casually to the sofa and sat down, picked up Reader’s Digest from the lamp table, and pretended to read an article in the dim candlelight. But she kept her ears tuned to Scott’s voice the entire time. She glanced up and let her gaze rest on Scott for a moment. Sarah’s face was hidden by the book, but she was holding perfectly still.

  Scott lifted his eyes as he turned the page, and she darted hers back to the magazine in her hands. She didn’t look back until Scott finished reading and set the book aside. Holly began to stand up to take Sarah upstairs, but the sight of her daughter’s closed eyes stopped her.

  Scott met her gaze and smiled. “Looks like the little angel was tired.”

  “She had a short nap today,” she forced out, wondering if her voice gave away her shaky emotions.

  Scott sat there rocking Sarah for a few more minutes, then stood to his feet with her cradled in his arms like an oversized rag doll. Holly stood to meet him, expecting him to hand Sarah over, but instead she watched him continue past her and head for the stairs. Holly followed him.

  “It’s the last door on the right,” she said when they reached the landing. Scott carried Sarah down the hall, into her room, and laid her in the crib. Holly stepped beside him and took the blanket from the rail to lay over her. She kept her eyes on Sarah’s sleeping face for a moment, thinking she may turn in early herself, but Scott didn’t move from her side.

  She looked up at him. He was staring at her.

  “Thank you for carrying her up,” she whispered. “She’s getting almost too heavy for me to do that on those steep stairs.”

  “She’s going to be too big for this crib one of these days,” he replied, still not moving.

  “Tell me about it. She’s already starting to try and climb out.”

  Standing so close to him was too much, and she turned away to leave the room. He followed her down the stairs, and she went to the kitchen to get herself a glass of milk, not that she was particularly thirsty but needed a diversion. Scott followed her.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

  “Sure. Milk’s fine.”

  She poured some into both glasses and checked the cookie jar. She pulled out two, gave him one along with the milk, and went to the table to sit down. He followed her.

  I’m going to have to get him to start talking about something--anything. His silent stares are making me nervous.

  “How do you like living in Hood River again?”

  “It’s nice. I always liked it here better than The Dalles.”

  “Why did you move away?”

  “Melissa was from there. She wanted to live there when we got married.”

  Don’t ask. Too personal. Change the subject. “How did you meet her?”

  “At a football game during my junior year of high school. The Dalles versus Hood River is always a big event. Some of the not-so-great friends I’d been hanging around with decided to go over to the other team’s stands and light a smoke bomb and firecrackers under the bleachers.”

  This she had to hear. “Did you get caught?”

  “My friends did. Got suspended too. Fortunately I had the sense to go sit up in the stands at the last minute instead of following them. I ended up sitting beside her. Then when all the commotion started, I didn’t want to take off like I had anything to do with it, so I just sat there. When half-time started and I got up to leave, she stopped me, asking my name, what year I was, if I was new.”

  “She thought you were a fellow student.”

  “Yep. I played along, lied through my teeth, figuring I’d never see her again.”

  “But she didn’t let you get away, huh?”

  “No. She and her friends followed me to my car, then asked for a ride home. She invited me to a party she was having that weekend. I ended up going. The rest is history.”

  Nice story. Move on, Holly. “How long did the two of you date?”

  “Off and on, two years.”

  “Off and on?”

  “We broke up four or five times. But I’d always end up calling her or going to see her again. We’d get back together for three or four months, then have some big talk about not wanting to be tied down to one person.”

  Holly decided to ask him something she had suspected but didn’t know for certain, even though her head screamed not to. “Did you get married so young because she got pregnant?”

  He nodded. “Those were my rebellious days. I wasn’t living the way I knew I should.”

  “But you stuck by her.”

  “I wasn’t that far gone. I knew sleeping together was wrong, but I didn’t think it was hurting anything. We used protection--most of the time. Then when she told me she was pregnant, I knew what I had to do.”

  “Did you only marry her because she was pregnant, or did you really love her?”

  “I loved her,” he said. “She was always the one that didn’t want to be tied down.”

  “Do you think that’s why she left?”

  He shrugged. “I think it was a lot of things.”

  She waited to see if he would elaborate rather than pry any further. Why do I always end up in these heavy conversations with him? There’s a wind storm going on out there for Pete’s sake. Can’t we just talk about the weather?

  She heard the wind rattling the windows again. The room felt chilled, and she wondered if she should go check the fire.

  “I don’t hate her or blame her for leaving,” Scott continued, setting his empty glass on the table. Holly gave him her full attention. Scott wasn’t the type to open up like this, and she found herself wanting to be a friend and listen to whatever he had on his heart. “I was just as much in the wrong as she was--even more so, because I knew better. In a way I give her credit for hanging in as long as she did. I never asked her to get an abortion, but when she first told me, that’s what I thought she’d do, and I’m ashamed to say I wouldn’t have tried to stop her.”

  He swallowed hard and lifted his moist brown eyes. They glistened in the candlelight.

  “But when she said she wanted to have it, I knew I had to marry her or never face my mom and dad again.” He smiled slightly. Knowing Deb, Holly understood why.

  “Melissa wasn’t ready to be a mom though. She tried, she really did, but she couldn’t take care of herself and hadn’t had the example of anyone taking care of her. She didn’t have anything to give.”

  “Did she know God?”

  Scott’s eyes darkened. He looked away, closed his eyes, and sighed.

  Good going, Holly. Make the guy dredge up everything in ten minutes flat.

  “No,” his voice broke. “She didn’t, and I never tried to tell her about Him.”

  Without taking time to think, Holly reached across the table and laid her hand over Scott’s, feeling determined to remove the cloud of remorse she had dragged in. “You can pray for her. God can still reach her--wherever she is.”

  He nodded, but the darkness didn’t leave his eyes.

  She decided to go check the fire before she stuck her other foot in her mouth. She had scattered the coals and burnt wood and put in two more logs before Scott entered the room. He took a seat on the sofa.

  She latched the door and stood in front of the warm stove for several moments. When she turned to face Scott, she thought about saying good night but didn’t want to leave him with his current thoughts. Dwelling on his past mistakes wasn’t going to do him any good. She walked to the couch and sat beside him.

  “You’re a great father, you know,” she said. “Madeline adores you.”

  He looked at her. The tension in his face relaxed. “God has blessed me far beyond what I deserve.”

  Holly felt relieved to see him smile again. That’s the way he usually carried himself: Happy with life despite the difficult circumstances.

  “How did you go on after Melissa left? Taking care of a baby is a lot of work.”

  He rubbed his stubbled jaw with his thumb, pondering her question. He wasn’t looking at her, and she gazed at his handsome features. She couldn’t help it. Scott had become more attractive to her with each passing day.

  “Becoming a dad has been a slow process,” he began, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first had her, I wanted to hold her all the time, but then when she’d cry I didn’t know what to do and always handed her off to Melissa.”

  “What did you do when Melissa wasn’t there anymore?”

  “By the time she left, Madeline was only getting up once in the night. All I had to do was make a bottle, feed her, and she’d go back to sleep. Then in the morning I’d feed her, take her to day care, and leave her there all day, usually until six or seven when I got off.”

  “How long did that plan work?”

  “About three months. Then I started feeling guilty for not seeing her more, and I realized Melissa wasn’t coming back, so I stopped working such long hours. The child-care bill was killing me. I finally did what I should have done much sooner.”

  “What?” she asked, honestly wanting to know.

  “Got my life straight with God,” he said. “I told Him, ‘I know I messed up, but if I’m going to do this, I’m going to need your help. Don’t let this little girl suffer because of my mistakes.’”

  “Mmmm,” Holly said, smiling warmly at him. “I seem to remember saying something like that.”

  A comfortable silence hung between them for a few moments, and then Scott said something about going to see if the road was clear now, but she feared for his safety and said so before she could stop herself. He got up to check the weather from the window and agreed that a tree might end up coming down on top of him. He called his mom again and let her know he would spend the night here. When he hung up, he turned to face her, and their eyes met. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Thanks for listening,” he said. “There’s not a lot of people I can talk to about this stuff. In fact, there’s not really anyone.”

  “Except God,” she said. “That’s who I talk to most of the time.”

  “It took me awhile to realize that. I should have gone to Him as soon as Melissa told me she was pregnant. I heard Him calling me then, but I ignored Him.” The regret returned to his eyes, and he looked away. “If only I--”

  Holly reached up and pressed her fingers to his lips. His gaze met hers. Hardly believing she had her hand on his mouth, she lowered her fingers, resisting the urge to lay her hand over his this time.

  “Don’t do that to yourself, Scott,” she spoke softly. “Just do what you can now.”

  He nodded and didn’t say anything else. The house phone rang, breaking the silence and startling her slightly. She rose to her feet in a flash, glad for the excuse to put some distance between them. Hurrying to the kitchen, she picked up the wall-mounted extension, the only one that didn’t rely on electricity to work. She heard Aunt Dana on the other end of the line. Her aunt was just checking in and sounded concerned when she told her about the big storm and loss of power.

  “Is Ty there?”

  “Yes. He made it home before the power went out.”

  “Thank God for that. I’d hate to have you there by yourself at a time like this.”

  Holly pondered whether or not to tell her about Scott being there too. But before she had a chance, the line cut out. She replaced the handset and waited for her aunt to call back, but the line was still dead when she checked for a dial tone a few moments later.

  “The phone dead too?”

  Scott’s sudden presence made her jump.

  “Sorry,” he said, laying his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. You startled me,” she said. There was no place for her to go except toward him. She turned slightly, hoping he would step away. “That was my aunt. We got cut off.”

  He was still blocking her path, although he didn’t seem to notice. He’s not going to try to kiss me, is he? No. He wouldn’t do that. Would he?

  “Well, I hate to be rude,” she said when he didn’t step away “but I’m really getting tired. I think I’m going to have to go to bed before I fall asleep on you--I mean, before I fall asleep down here.”

  He stepped back, and she darted past him. “You can crash in my aunt and uncle’s room. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

  “I’d rather sleep on the couch so I can keep the fire going.”

  “Okay. Whatever,” she said. “I’ll find you a pillow and a blanket.”

  She escaped from the room, retrieved some bedding from the linen closet and returned to the family room, giving them to Scott. He thanked her, and she turned away before he could say anything else.

  “Good night,” she said and headed for the stairs.

  The wind stopped sometime during the night. Holly had laid awake for an hour or more, listening to it howl. She kept waiting for a tree to crash on top of the house but also kept thinking about the two times she had touched Scott.

  Why did I do that?--Twice? I can’t let anything happen between us. I can’t.

  But she knew she couldn’t have helped it, even if she’d tried. She didn’t like seeing him in pain or blaming himself for something he couldn’t change. She had come to a place of peace for her own mistakes, and she wanted the same for him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Power had not been restored by morning, and they waited around, wondering how much damage had been done. The yard and street were a mess of wet leaves, branches, and twigs. The garbage can had been tossed into the driveway, dumping its contents about as well. A few shingles were lying in the grass.

  Around noon the electricity came on. Scott asked Ty for a ride into town when he needed to go to work so he could get the part he needed for her car, fix it this afternoon, and then bring it back to the house--still leaving him with a vehicle to get home in.

  Her aunt and uncle weren’t due home until eight o’clock that evening. Holly did some laundry, fed Sarah, then took a nap when Sarah did. She hadn’t slept much last night. The doorbell ringing at four-thirty woke her up. She went downstairs and found Scott standing on the doorstep. He had on black jeans and a blue flannel shirt under his jacket.

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s okay. Sarah will be up soon anyway.”

  “I brought your car back. Good as new,” he said, handing her the keys.

  “Thank you,” she said. “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. Think of it as payback for listening to me last night.”

  “Scott? Come on, let me pay you--for the cost of the part at least.”

  He leaned against the door frame and gave her a crooked smile. “Make me dinner and we’ll call it even?”

  She slowly smiled and stepped away from the door to let him in. He closed the door behind him, removed his jacket, and followed her into the kitchen.

  “What do you like?”

  “Anything,” he said, taking a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar.

  She tried to think of what she had on hand. Going to the refrigerator, she scanned the shelves, making a mental checklist and wondering why she was considering making her best dish. “How about chicken enchiladas?”

  “Sounds great to me.”

  She went to work. Sarah’s crying came from upstairs before she had it in the oven. Scott hopped off the stool.

  “I’ll get her,” he said and disappeared before she could protest.

  What is he doing, God? He’s not doing what I think he’s doing, is he? I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for a relationship. So, why am I enjoying making dinner for him?

  Scott returned with Sarah in his arms. Her sleepy-eyed daughter looked a little confused, but she wasn’t crying.

  And why do I love seeing him hold Sarah? Please God. Take these feelings away.

  The feelings didn’t go away. Not when Scott got Sarah a snack to hold her over until dinner. Not when the three of them sat at the table, and not when she watched Scott smile after taking the first bite of her cooking.

  After dinner she supposed he would say he needed to get going. But he didn’t. He followed her and Sarah into the family room and checked the stove while she put in a video for Sarah to watch, then came to sit beside her on the couch as if he had no place else to be. She had a legitimate reason to question that.

  “Is your mom watching Madeline?”

  “No. I dropped her off at a birthday party on my way here. I have to pick her up at seven.”

  She looked at the clock: Six-ten. Okay just another thirty minutes or so. I can make it. She focused her attention on the television, trying to think of what excuse she had to get up and go into the other room.

  He’s watching me. He’s not looking at the T.V. He’s looking at me!

  She dared to glance at him. Big mistake. He moved closer. She looked away again, pretending not to notice.

  “Would you like some ice cream?” she asked, marveling at her ability to think of something.

  “No, thanks. I’m still stuffed from that great dinner,” he said. “I think that was worth an oil change and a tune-up too.”

  She looked at him again. He was smiling. Look away. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes from him. He reached for her hand. His touch was warm and made her heart surge. He smiled, and she swallowed hard.

  “If you haven’t already figured it out, I have feelings for you, Holly.”

  She drew in a deep breath and glanced away. When she looked back, he held her gaze and squeezed her fingers, but all she could do was sit there, paralyzed.

  “I have for awhile now,” he said, gently lifting her fingers from her lap and placing them in his other hand. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you.”