Lilies and Lies Page 8

  “Here’s the last of them.” Reese’s voice startled Maddie from her thoughts. She turned to find her brother poised at the truck’s open hatch, one hip pressed firmly against the frame. Dirt clung to his faded jeans and his ever-present cowboy boots looked as if they’d been through the Civil War and then some. “Do you think these will suffice for the remainder of the season?”

  Maddie swiped stray strands of hair from her cheek and felt the flush of heat her memories had elicited. She turned her head away slightly, hoping Reese wouldn’t notice the splotchy tone of her skin that she knew accompanied the warmth. She struggled to control the tremor in her voice. “They ought to, but it’s probably a good idea to keep the distributer on standby, just in case.”

  “Will do.” Reese brushed soil from his T-shirt. “Are you OK? You look flushed. Maybe you should drink some water.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He rounded the truck to the passenger side and flipped the lid on a cooler. He grabbed two bottles of water and tossed one to her. “You don’t look fine. Drink up.”

  Maddie uncapped the bottle and drew a generous sip. She swallowed, swiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Reese, do you ever wonder what our lives would be like if we didn’t have the nursery…if Mom and Dad never took a chance on starting this business?”

  “What brings this on?” Reese took the cap from his own bottle, drained it in one long swig.

  “Just asking.” Maddie sipped again. “What if they were one of the fifty—almost sixty—percent that didn’t make it, that ended up divorced? Do you ever wonder where you’d be…where we’d all be if their faith wasn’t so strong…wasn’t the center of our lives growing up?”

  “I’ll admit that taking the marriage plunge made me examine things pretty closely. No one plans to—or wants to—end up on that side of the fence.” Reese shook his head as his voice trailed off. “But life’s way too short to let the what-if’s paralyze you. I’d rather focus on the positive and be grateful for what I have.”

  “An amazing sister, right?”

  “That’s right. You’re on the list.” His gaze drifted to the office. “Wyatt’s busy in there crunching numbers. Since he found out he’s having twins, he’s been like a man possessed trying to get everything in order—as if he hasn’t already done that around here. Talk about worrying over the future…with a guy as organized as he is, even triplets wouldn’t put a blip on the radar.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. Even Wyatt has his limits.”

  “Speaking of our illustrious older brother, Wyatt asked one of us to deliver mums to the church this morning for the grounds crew. They’re working on decorations for the fall festival planned for next weekend. Would you mind to take half-a-dozen flats over there? Peyton needs me for lunch.”

  “For lunch?”

  “That’s right.” Reese winked conspiratorially. “Maybe we’ll have an announcement of our own soon.”

  ****

  Guitar music drifted from the sanctuary of Clover Cove Community Church as Maddie made her way down the hall. The temperature outside registered unseasonably warm for October and unloading the flats of mums from the truck had left her winded. Air conditioning rushed from overhead vents to chill her flushed skin while she paused at the double doors leading into the sanctuary. She sipped water from what was left in a bottle she’d carried inside. Though the liquid was now lukewarm, the wet still eased her parched throat.

  Through the glass, she watched Gunnar strum his acoustic guitar with such ease that it seemed the polished instrument might have been an appendage. He leaned toward a microphone and his voice carried through the glass, low and soulful, as he segued into a modern version of “Amazing Grace.” While the words hit home, he lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. In that moment Maddie knew that his chains were gone, just as the words of the song assured those who heard them. Despite what he might have asserted as he’d spilled his story to her last night, Gunnar knew where he’d been…and was confident of where he was going.

  Yet, clad in faded jeans, with unruly dark hair skimming the collar of his black T-shirt, he looked the part of a seasoned rock star. Maddie wondered how he could at once seem so reserved, yet exude a masculinity that tossed her insides like a garden salad.

  She tugged on the door, slipped into the sanctuary, and settled into a pew near the back of the room. The scent of flowers drifted, and Maddie noticed an arrangement of orange-splash Gerber daisies that adorned a welcome table to the right of the entranceway. Peyton must have stopped by earlier to place the fresh display in preparation for tomorrow’s services. Her creation proved to be, as always, beautiful.

  Maddie was swept away in the music. She closed her eyes and settled back against the seat, drawing a deep, cleansing breath. To calm the anxious rush of her pulse, she began to hum along with Gunnar.

  “You two sound good together.”

  Maddie’s eyes flew open to find Mrs. Johnson seated beside her, like an apparition come to life. Her rheumy-brown eyes held a hint of mischief, and her cheeks were flushed. Maddie guessed she’d come in from the side yard, where the gardening crew was hard at work, to cool off for a spell. At once, Maddie felt as if she was in fifth grade again. She fidgeted in the seat.

  “Gunnar sounds good. I was just…humming along.”

  “Sounded like more than humming to me.” Mrs. Johnson fanned herself with a hymnal. “Why don’t you go up there, join in with Gunnar.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “Sure you could. The two of you are sweeter together than Oreos and milk.” Mrs. Johnson gave Maddie a little push. “Go on. Indulge an old woman. You used to sing up there every Sunday, Maddie Cutler, you and your daddy together. I’m not so old that I don’t remember your sweet voice.”

  “That was a lifetime ago, Mrs. Johnson, and Dad carried most of the tune.”

  “A lifetime? Why, Maddie Cutler, you’re a young woman. You haven’t even written a full chapter among the pages of your lifetime. Besides, it’s a shame to waste such an attractive voice. It would grieve your father to know you haven’t shared a song in this sanctuary since the day he passed.”

  “I…miss him.”

  “I know you do. But rest in the assurance that death is only painful for those left behind.” She set the hymnal back in its holder. “And the pain is something we all share and can relate to.”

  A shadow eased across the pew, blocking light that spilled from a stained-glass window. “Hey, there, Maddie.”

  “Gunnar…” Maddie turned to him, her pulse skittering. “I didn’t see you leave the front.”

  “Well, I saw you.” He smiled as his grey eyes settled on her, and the skitter launched to a full-on sprint. “And you must be a mind-reader.”

  “Oh?” She swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat as Mrs. Johnson looked on, her lips curled into an amused little smirk. “How so?”

  “I was just about to take a break from practice to call you and see if you’d like to have lunch together…or dinner.” He grinned and shrugged in the carefree manner she was growing accustomed to. “Or, if you’re feeling really adventurous and you don’t have to get back to the nursery, both.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Lunch? Dinner?”

  “Both. But can you give me a minute?” Maddie pulled her cellphone from her purse. “I’ll have to check in with Wyatt or Reese first. If I don’t return to the nursery in a timely manner without giving someone a heads-up, one of my brothers is sure to think I’ve plowed the truck into a ditch again and call out the National Guard.”

  ****

  “I heard you singing today, before Mrs. Johnson settled in beside you.” Gunnar said as he turned into the lot of Maddie’s apartment complex later that evening. “I enjoyed sharing an impromptu duet of ‘Amazing Grace.’”

  “I didn’t realize I was singing, but I’ve had a lot of practice in that arena.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “Belting out tunes in the shower.�
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  “One of those, huh…a closet crooner?”

  “Don’t fault me.” Maddie burst into laughter. “The acoustics are perfect.”

  “That’s true.” Gunnar enjoyed watching the twitch of her lips, the gentle curve of her jaw as laughter tumbled through the cab like the soft tinkle of music. “But I overheard Mrs. Johnson say you used to sing on Sundays with your dad.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Even so, you shouldn’t hide your talents. If you don’t want to join in on Sundays, I may have to rope you into at least helping out with the Wednesday night youth group. The girls can use a strong female influence, and I can use the help. How would you feel about that?”

  “How big is your lasso?” She poked him in the ribs. “I can run pretty fast. My brothers gave me a lot of practice, chasing me through childhood with worms and other beady-eyed, creepy-crawly insects.”

  “I’ll bet they did.” Gunnar caught a loose curl, tucked it behind her ear. “Man, that’s a vision, you bounding through the grass with the three of them on your heels. Can we talk about it, though…the helping at church part?”

  “Maybe…if you feel like coming in for coffee.” Maddie unlatched her seatbelt as he eased the car into park. “I’m willing to let you try to persuade me over a mug of hazelnut vanilla.”

  “I’m still flying solo tonight. Kyle’s not due back until the morning, second service at the church.” Gunnar checked his watch. “So, unless you turn into a pumpkin at midnight, I’ve got plenty of time.”

  “No pumpkins here. But, I have to warn you, I’m pretty good at deflecting.” She opened her door, turned to exit. Gunnar, rising to the challenge, reached for her. He drew her gently back to him.

  “Before we go in…” He shed his seatbelt, leaned across the console that separated them. Suddenly, the cab sweltered though the air outside held a hint of autumn chill. “I have something to say, not necessarily with words.”

  “Gunnar…” Her breath warmed his cheek as he eased in, dipped his head to claim her lips. His hand inched up her back to cradle the nape of her neck, and he felt the flutter of pulse along her jaw. He lingered, savoring, before he sat back to capture her gaze. The gentle gasp of her breath spoke volumes in return.

  “How’s that for persuasion?”

  “It’s…” Maddie pressed a pair of fingers to her lips as they rounded to a small oh of surprise. “Wow. I think I’ll put my running shoes away.”

  “Good.” Gunnar skimmed a knuckle along her cheek. “Because I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few days concerning what you said about God putting broken pieces together in ways we can’t begin to fathom. I think He’s working here…with us.” He reached across the seat, laced his fingers with hers. “What we share now is a lot…it’s something real and strong. Powerful.”

  “I feel it, too.” Maddie startled him by leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his lips and brush her fingers over his stubbled jaw. “Come inside, Gunnar. I’ll brew a pot of coffee. We’ll talk about the youth program…and maybe more.”

  10

  “Do you need any help, Maddie?” Kyle asked as he bounded into the kitchen a few weeks later. Maddie had been at work preparing dinner nearly an hour and already felt comfortable rummaging through the drawers of Gunnar’s kitchen finding what she needed. His supplies were a little sparse, but she’d expected that and so had chosen a simple recipe she knew they’d like. The meal was a small repayment for what he’d done to replace Mrs. Johnson’s car and to put them all at ease concerning her lunge through his shop.

  “You can set the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “OK.” Kyle yanked open the refrigerator door, grabbed a two-liter soda bottle. “It sure smells good in here. What are you cooking?”

  “Chicken fajitas and rice.”

  “Wow, I love both of those.” He filled a glass with ice, then a splash of soda, before chugging. “How did you know?”

  “I asked Gunnar. He gave me a little inside information.” Maddie handed Kyle a small pump-bottle of liquid soap. “That’s why I chose them. Now, wash up.”

  “Sure.” Kyle tossed her a look over his shoulder as he stepped up to the sink and turned on the faucet. “You mean you cooked a special meal, just for me?”

  “That’s right, but I hope we’ll all enjoy it together. I whipped up a batch of my world-famous fudge brownies for dessert, too.”

  “Wow. They smell good.” Kyle’s eyes rounded. He dried his hands with a paper towel and opened a cabinet over the sink to retrieve a small stack of dinner plates. “Uncle Gunnar’s almost finished changing the oil on your car.”

  “That was sure nice of him to take care of that for me, especially out there in the driveway, without the proper equipment that would make the job so much easier.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t mind at all. I watched him work, and he taught me how to do it, too, so now I can help. We’re working on a Chevy at his garage together, restoring it for Mr. Glick. It’s pretty cool how Uncle Gunnar trusts me to help him. It makes me feel good, and the Chevy’s sure going to be a sweet ride when we’re finished.”

  “That’s a good skill to have, working on cars. I wish I knew more about them.”

  “And I wish Uncle Gunnar knew more about cooking. I’m getting pretty tired of hamburger and baked beans around here. Maybe Uncle Gunnar can show you how to work on cars and you can give him some cooking lessons.”

  “Oh, his cooking can’t be that bad.”

  “Believe me, it is.” Kyle set the plates on the table, added napkins and silverware. “Uncle Gunnar’s an expert with cars, but making dinner, or even a snack…he’s not even in the ballpark when it comes to preparing anything edible.”

  Maddie laughed. “In that case, I don’t mind pinch-hitting.”

  “Every night?”

  “Whoa…let’s not go that far. I’m sure Gunnar would have something to say about that.”

  “Judging by the way he smiles all the time when you’re with him, I do too.” Kyle lifted the lid on a skillet where chicken, infused with spices, simmered. “You two just fit together. You should get married. That would be so cool.”

  “It’s not that simple, Kyle. There’s a lot more than fajitas and brownies that go into making a good, strong marriage.”

  “I thought cars were complicated, too, until Uncle Gunnar started showing me that pretty-much every engine has the same basic parts and needs the same type of maintenance.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep.”

  Maddie couldn’t deny the analogy had value. Reese’s words from weeks ago echoed through her mind…

  “…life’s way too short to let the ‘what-if’s’ paralyze you.”

  ****

  Gunnar paused in his tracks as he reached the doorway of the kitchen. Maddie’s words washed over him…

  “There’s a lot more than fajitas and brownies that go into making a good, strong marriage.”

  She was right. There was a whole lot more.

  He wiped his hands on the shop towel, leaving streaks of pearly-black oil behind, and peered into the kitchen. Maddie stirred the contents of a pot that simmered at the stove with Kyle close to her side. It made an interesting picture, the way Kyle leaned in to catch every detail. Up to this point, Gunnar hadn’t known his nephew to show even the slightest interest in culinary arts. But Maddie had a way of drawing the improbable from people she cared about.

  Like him. A few months ago he would have balked at the idea of marriage, run as if the law was after him. But now, he examined the ‘more’ that he and Maddie shared, and realized with a jolt that they blended perfectly together.

  “I believe God takes broken pieces and puts them back together in ways we can’t begin to fathom.”

  Gunnar carried that thought with him as he strode into the kitchen. “Hey, Maddie.” He went straight to her, spun her to face him and claimed her lips with a lingering kiss. “Dinner smells delicious.”

  Maddie
eased into him as she lifted one hand to the nape of his neck, returning the kiss. “You smell good, too.”

  “A little motor oil, some hard work, and sunshine…”

  “I like it.”

  “Maddie made fajitas, Uncle Gunnar.” Kyle’s voice drifted over Gunnar’s shoulder. “And brownies, too.”

  “I see that.” He eased in, claimed a third kiss, and peered through the window over the sink to find the limbs of oaks that lined the yard emblazoned in a flurry of autumn crimson and gold.

  “Are you just gonna stand there and kiss her, or can we eat sometime tonight?” Kyle peeked into the oven, sniffed the rising brownies. “I’m starving and these brownies look ready.”

  “Dinner’s a good plan, Kyle, and I thought, after we’re finished, that Maddie and I could take a walk together while you clean up the kitchen.”

  “I’ll do anything if you just don’t burn the food. If I have to eat hamburger casserole again tonight…”

  ****

  A few weeks later, Gunnar stopped by the nursery to pick up a special order Reese had placed for him, and then headed toward Maddie’s apartment. Friday evening had finally arrived, and he looked forward to a weekend away from the garage. With damage from Maddie’s accident no more than a distant memory, business was stronger than ever, keeping him hopping. Now, catching a breather, Gunnar planned to take Maddie to dinner and then together they’d head to the music outlet to find the perfect guitar for Kyle’s birthday next week.

  Music drifted from the radio as he swung into a parking space beside her sedan. Sunlight fingered over the western horizon, bathing wisps of clouds in a palette of gold. The air was crisp, hinting that winter lurked just around the corner. Trees danced along the boulevard, their limbs naked as leaves skittered along the walk.

  The scent of Stargazers filled the cab of the truck, and Gunnar welcomed the fragrance. It no longer reminded him of death, but instead he was filled with images of Maddie…her gentleness and easy sense of humor, the way she welcomed and doted on Kyle as if she’d known him—loved him—her entire life. Gunnar killed the engine and reached for the bouquet. It was only fitting to share the beautiful arrangement with a woman who exuded a special and precious beauty of her own.