Her Minnesota Man (A Christian Romance Novel) (32 page)

"Everyone's h
aving a good time," Laney said.

"I hope so."
Crystal put the cake knife down and straightened a skewed stack of paper napkins. "
Too bad the Graces couldn't come."

"Sunday afternoon is their quiet time," Laney explained. "They're on the go all week long, so they're very protective of their Sunday afternoons. But they adore Jenna, and I know they already gave her some nice gifts. They even got her to promise to go to church with them next Sunday."

"That's wonderful," Crystal said. "And s
p
eaking of taking people to church, what's this I hear about Jackson Bell? Is it true he's become a believer?"

"Yes." Joy shivered through Laney.

"I'm so glad. I'd like to meet him sometime, if he wouldn't mind. Ollie says he's—" Crystal looked uncomfortable again. "Well, 'difficult to know' is what Ollie says."

"He's a very private person." It was Laney's standard response. While she wished people could understand why Jeb avoided social interaction, she would never betray his trust by divulging that he'd been neglected and abused as a child.

"But he's famous." Crystal's brow furrowed. "How can a shy person—"

"He's not shy," Laney interrupted. "Not the way you mean. He's just not much of a talker."

"Ollie likes him," Crystal said. "In fact, the night before Mrs. Lindstrom's house burned down, Ollie got mad when somebody we know said Jackson was a sociopath. Ollie said that just because a guy keeps to himself, that doesn't mean he despises people and lacks empathy."

"Jeb doesn't despise people," Laney said with feeling. "He's just never been comfortable in social situations." Although since he'd become a Christian, he'd been making an amazing effort. He was even thinking about taking Ollie up on an invitation to try some curling.

"Well, the next person who calls him that ugly name is going to get a piece of
my
mind," Crystal said staunchly. "Sociopaths don't run into burning houses to save old ladies."

"He even saved her cat," Laney pointed out. "Jeb's a hero, just like the newspaper said."

Crystal tilted her head forward, looking at Laney from under raised eyebrows as a knowing smile curved her mouth. "Am I picking up a romantic vibe here?"

Recalling those soul-stirring kisses in her kitchen, Laney couldn't flatten her answering grin any more than she could banish the blush that suddenly warmed her cheeks. "Let's just say I'm hopeful. But this is a very recent development, Crystal, so please keep it to yourself."

That Jeb had initiated those kisses was a strong indication that he, too, was falling in love. But he still had a lot of decisions to make about his new life. So while Laney had begun to cherish a secret hope about marrying him, she was still a practical woman who understood that dreams didn't always come true.

"I won't say a word." Crystal came around the table and reached out for a hug. "And I'll be praying for you both."

Holding Jenna's cake plate safely to one side, Laney leaned toward Crystal and gave her a one-armed squeeze.

"Crystal." Sarah Jane Swenson entered the dining room, an empty glass cup in her hand, and gestured to the punch bowl at one end of the table. "Before I help myself to more of this wonderful stuff, please tell me there are no calories in it."

"There aren't." Crystal shared an amused look with Laney. "At least, not compared to the cake."

Already ladling punch into her cup, Sarah Jane loosed one of her silver-bell laughs.

"I'll go see if anyone needs more coffee," Crystal said. Reaching for the plate in Laney's hands, she added, "And I'll deliver this cake to our mom-to-be."

"Thank you," Laney said with quiet intensity and a significant look to convey her gratitude for the promised prayers.

"I was hoping for a minute alone with you," Sarah Jane said when their hostess had gone. "What are you looking so delighted about? Have you sold the tearoom already?"

Shaking her head, Laney wondered why Sarah Jane would imagine she'd be delighted about that. On second thought, now that she had accepted the inevitability of the sale, a good offer for the place probably
would
give her a thrill. After all, she'd finally be able to pay off her debts.

"No, I haven't even had an offer yet. But the agent is showing it again tomorrow, and he thinks it'll sell quickly."

"But you're positively glowing." Sarah Jane moved toward Laney and linked an arm through hers. "So I thought
 
.
 
.
 
." She shook her head, but a second later her puzzled expression morphed into a smile. "I know what it is!" she crowed, and then she lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. "You kissed Jackson, didn't you?"

Laney fought a grin.

"Good girl!" Sarah Jane squeezed her arm and then sipped some punch, her brown eyes twinkling as she watched Laney over the rim of the cup. "Tell me everything."

Laney chuckled. "In your dreams, Sarah Jane."

Her friend smiled back. "I gather he didn't hate it?"

"He didn't hate it," Laney acknowledged. "But that's all you're getting out of me."

It had been just two hours since those amazing kisses—she was determined to forget that disastrous one at the lake—and two of Laney's friends already knew something romantic was happening between herself and Jeb. That could prove awkward if things didn't work out the way she hoped, so from this moment, her lips were zipped.

If Jeb came to love her the way she loved him, maybe they could build a life together. But if he couldn't love her that way, or if the Lord had a different plan for each of them
 
.
 
.
 
.

Well, then she would just do her best to trust God and be content with the life
h
e gave her.

That
wa
s what her mother had done. Even though her snake of a husband had ultimately divorced her, Hannah Ryland had never looked at another man. She had always maintained that as long as she kept her eyes on the Lord, she was perfectly content.

"So you're not going to spill any juicy details?" Sarah Jane pretended to pout. "In that case, we might as well get back to the party."

Laney concurred and followed her friend into the other room.

"This is insane," Jeb muttered as he stood on the Graces' front porch, his right index finger hovering nervously above the tiny round doorbell button.

He had never visited this house without Laney to watch his back. But while she was occupied at the baby shower, he meant to put one simple question to her great-aunts. Was it too much to hope that just this once, they might resist the temptation to toy with him and just give him an answer that made sense?

Suppressing a shudder of apprehension, he rang the bell.

The Graces were delighted to see him; they beckoned him inside like a trio of bored cats who'd just discovered a fat mouse bumbling into their domain. As they tugged off his leather jacket and hauled him back to their over-warm kitchen, Jeb braced himself to endur
e their relentless hospitality.

He didn't resist when they pushed him onto a chair at a table covered with a red-and-white-checked cloth and strewn with piles of yarn and knitting needles. Neither did he object when they set a mug of black coffee and a massive triangle of cherry pie in front of him.

No sane person ever said no to the Graces' pie, anyway, and even Laney's coffee couldn't touch the robust stuff her great-aunts brewed.

"Sorry the pie's not strawberry-rhubarb," Millie said. "We know that's your favorite."

"I like this, too," Jeb said. "Thank you."

Beaming at him, the Graces settled around the table and resumed the knitting session he had apparently interrupted. On the floor, a smoke-colored cat batted halfheartedly at a ball of yarn before yawning and slinking into a cardboard box that lay on its side next to the refrigerator.

"Frankie Five loves his boxes." Millie's knitting needles clacked rhythmically as she bestowed an indulgent smile on the cat. "Maybe he'll let you hold him later," she added, as though that would constitute a rare treat.

Jeb forked up several bites of pie before he found his nerve and announced, "I came here to ask you something."

Three sets of k
n
itting needles stopped moving. Three identical pairs of faded blue eyes blinked patiently behind wire-rimmed glasses. Even Frankie Five padded out of his box and meowed
inquisitively. But Jeb's mind had suddenly gone blank.

Caroline's crinkly mouth curved in undisguised amusement. "Finish your pie," she said. "A man can get himself into all kinds of trouble asking questions on an empty stomach."

Jeb sighed and poked another bite of pie into his mouth. Laney's great-aunts went back to knitting noisily, the delicate clacking of their needles filling the brief, infrequent pauses in their chatter.

"There now." Millie slipped something that looked like a small round potholder off of her needles. "That's another little hat done. Now I'll make the booties to match."

"I already made two pairs out of that yellow yarn," Caroline said. "But we have two white hats and no booties to go with them, so you could make some white ones. Or start on another sweater. We only have four of those."

Apparently, the Graces' latest charitable endeavor was outfitting a brigade of babies. Replete with cherry pie and feeling unaccountably mellow, Jeb reached for his coffee mug.

"Here's a thought," Aggie said. "Let's make matching sweaters for Laney and the baby out of that rainbow yarn."

About to take a drink, Jeb halted the coffee mug an inch from his mouth.
Staring at Aggie, he
waited for his brain to make sense out of
her
odd suggestion.

"Oh, what a cute idea!" Millie said. "But let's make two or three different sizes for the baby, so Laney can enjoy playing look-alike for more than just a month or two."

"Why would Laney play look-alike with somebody else's baby?" Jeb asked before setting the mug to his lips.

"These things we're making," Millie said with a beatific smile, "are for Laney's baby."

Jeb choked on his coffee.

As he coughed and gasped, Aggie sprang out of her chair and thumped him repeatedly between the shoulder blades.

"Laney's
 
what
?" he demanded as Aggie beat him like an old rug at spring cleaning time. "She's not even—"
Cough, cough
. "—married yet!"

"She will be soon," Caroline said composedly as she continued knitting. "You okay there, Jeb?"

"P-perfectly fine." He coughed again and then looked over his shoulder to raise a stern eyebrow at Aggie, who had stopped pounding his back to nudge her arms beneath his and dig her small fists into his solar plexus.

"Sit down, Aggie," Caroline said. "He doesn't need a Heimlich hug. He just swallowed his coffee wrong."

"Oh, shoot." Aggie withdrew her arms and subsided onto her chair. "I always wanted to try that."

"So what's with the baby stuff?" Jeb addressed the question to Millie because when it came to giving a straight answer, she was far more reliable than devious Caroline and mischievous Aggie.

"We're working ahead," Millie explained. "Because even if Laney were to get married in the next few months, it could still be a couple of years before she has a baby. And we're not getting any younger, you know. We might be gone to Glory by that time, or just not able to knit anymore. And we've been knitting for Laney since
she
was a baby. So do you think we'd risk failing to provide her first child with a box of cute little things made with a bit of yarn and a lot of love?"

Caroline and Aggie nodded their matter-of-fact approval to that poignant little speech.

"I guess that makes sense,"
Jeb
said carefully.

"It's just insurance," Aggie said. "Pure and simple. But don't you breathe a word about it to our girl. When we finish this layette, we'll pack it away until it's needed."

Jeb wasn't sure what a "layette" was. But since he hoped to be the man who married Laney, it was entirely possible that the Graces were unwittingly knitting booties for a bouncing baby Bell.

He was careful to conceal his amusement. The Graces might appear harmless as they sat there crafting garments for Laney's first child, but they were like Miss
Marple
in triplicate. Their agile brains continually made all sorts of scary connections, and they could wreck a man's self-confidence faster than they could roll out the crust for one of their mouthwatering pies.

He folded his arms on the table and cleared his throat. "Speaking of starting families," he began with what he felt was remarkable aplomb, considering his history with these women, "I know you three are scheming to marry me off."

Once again, their knitting needles stilled.

"I'm not mad." Jeb regarded the bemused trio with a genial smile. "In fact, I agree that I'm ready for marriage."