Courting Hope Page 15

  “Nice message this morning.” Jim Petersen fiddled with his butter knife.

  Floored by the compliment, Sinclair wondered if Jim’s reason for giving it was to divert his attention. “Thanks.”

  “How do you like pastoring a church?”

  Sinclair cocked his head. “The responsibility is intimidating.”

  That answer pleased Hope’s father, if the lifting of the scowl was any indication. “Judy says you’re doing a fine job.”

  As long as he handled dating Hope properly.

  “Dinner is ready.” Teresa Petersen set a platter of fragrant beef and warm biscuits on the table.

  Hope followed with bowls of fresh vegetables and whipped potatoes. A heavy meal for a summer day, but Sinclair couldn’t wait to dig in.

  “What do you want to drink? Iced tea or pop?” She grazed his shoulder.

  Sinclair nearly jumped at Hope’s touch. “Iced tea is fine.”

  Pretty hard to relax when he had no clue what to expect from her father. They were obviously trying to be nice to him, but tension hung like a rope in the air. Sinclair didn’t want to hang himself with it when he read the warning in Jim’s eyes.

  “Hope tells me that you bought that little cottage down the road.” Teresa ladled a generous portion of pot roast onto his plate before handing it to him.

  “I’m waiting for the financing approval, and then I can close and move in. If you ever need a hand with anything, let me know.”

  Jim shared a look with his wife. Sinclair wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Considering what happened the last time he’d helped bring in hay for the Petersens, they might not want him anywhere near their farm.

  Or their daughter.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he couldn’t ease the tightness that had settled there.

  “We’d appreciate that.” Teresa sat down next to her husband.

  After a brief prayer, everyone concentrated on the business of filling and then emptying their plates. Conversation bounced like a beach ball from how many heads of cattle the Petersens had this year to Sinclair’s duties in Haiti.

  Finally, when dinner had ended, Sinclair rose from the table to take his dish to the sink. He spotted Gypsy on her bed in the corner, waiting for scraps.

  Hope intercepted him. “I’ve got this. Go on in the living room while Mom and I get dessert ready.”

  “I thought we might walk a bit.” Jim Petersen headed for the screen door.

  Sinclair searched Hope’s face, and she gave him an encouraging smile.

  Turning toward her dad, he pushed up his glasses and his palms broke into a sweat. This is what he’d come for. “Lead the way.”

  He followed Jim out the door. Peering at the darkening sky, Sinclair knew the rain wasn’t far off. Thunder rumbled low in the distance, and he swallowed. This was the grilling Ryan had warned him about.

  Walking along the gravel driveway, Sinclair wondered if he should talk first or wait for Jim to take the lead. Sinclair knew what he wanted, but what was the protocol here?

  As they approached the barn, Sinclair’s heart sank when Jim opened the main doors where he’d kept his tractors parked. Why were they going in?

  Sinclair stared at the old John Deere—the one that had crushed Sara—and his gut tightened.

  “There’s something you need to know.” Jim’s eyes looked glossy, and his voice sounded tight.

  Sinclair braced himself against the emotions clogging his throat, threatening to choke him. “What’s that, Mr. Petersen?”

  “I never blamed you for what happened to Sara. I don’t blame anyone but her.”

  Sinclair let out his breath as relief flooded through him. He didn’t know how to respond so he remained quiet, but he nodded for Hope’s dad to continue.

  “Sara had a wild hair that liked to drive too fast and take chances. Even as a baby, after learning to walk, she had to climb instead.”

  Jim smiled, remembering. “She wouldn’t let me put training wheels on her bicycle, no matter how many scrapes she got from falling over. She wanted to do things her way.”

  “Sounds a lot like me.” Sinclair had often found a thrill-seeking partner in Sara when they were teens. When Ryan hadn’t held her back.

  Jim nodded. “Your brother curbed that wildness in her. I thought she’d matured in college and left a lot of her silliness behind. You dared her to do something she’d probably already tried on her own. I know it was an accident, Sinclair. A stupid one.”

  Sinclair stared at the man in front of him, knowing how hard it was for him to say what he had. It didn’t make their loss any easier, but the tearing guilt eased. They could move on from here.

  Sinclair searched Jim’s eyes and finally, with a thick voice, he said an inadequate “Thank you.”

  Jim slapped a work-hardened hand on his shoulder. “My problem with you is Hope.”

  “Sir?” Sinclair swallowed hard.

  “What’s this business of kissing her while you’re chaperoning a group of kids?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and watched as the first few drops of rain hit the dusty path in front of the barn. That metallic scent of a summer shower filled his nostrils. “Not a wise decision.”

  “No. Not at all. Just what are you up to?”

  “Up to?”

  What would he do if Jim sent him packing? He wasn’t giving up Hope, not now. Not when he knew he needed her and wanted her in his life forever.

  Jim shook his head. “Do I have to spell it out? What are your intentions? Are you dating my daughter for the fun of it, or what?”

  “I’m not dating her yet, sir.” He couldn’t help pointing that out.

  “Oh, yeah? You’ve taken her out for dessert, for lunch even.”

  “All work related. Mr. Petersen, I want to go out with Hope. Not because I don’t already know she’s right for me, but because I want to do this the right way. And that means asking you first.”

  Jim smiled. “Asking me what?”

  Sinclair clenched and unclenched his jaw. This wasn’t coming out as smoothly as he’d planned. “If I can date your daughter.”

  “Why?” The man enjoyed making him miserable.

  “Because I’m crazy about her!” There, he’d finally said it out loud. He liked the way it sounded, too. His heart felt warm and squishy inside. He’d never felt like this about anyone before.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, sir.” Sinclair’s irritation dissolved when he realized that Jim wasn’t going to stand in their way. He was being a dad. And a good one, at that.

  “When are you going to let her in on how you feel?”

  Sinclair thought about it for a moment. Hope deserved more than impulsive snipe-hunting stunts and stolen kisses at a fair.

  He understood what Judy meant about not rushing their relationship. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

  With a broad smile, Sinclair said, “When the time’s right.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Hope stared at her reflection in the mirror. Jeans and a T-shirt might be casual for her first real date with Sinclair, but they were going for a horseback ride. She plunked onto the edge of her bed and pulled on socks and her boots.

  Yesterday’s rain had broken the heat wave that had gripped the area. It had also prevented her and Sinclair from taking a walk. Soon after he’d come in from the barn with her father, they’d eaten dessert and then Sinclair had left. He’d asked her out after she walked him to the door, while they stood on the porch saying good-bye.

  He wouldn’t give up any details regarding his chat with her father, though. Her father had been equally obtuse, but evidently he was satisfied that Sinclair meant her no harm. Tonight’s date proved that much.

  Hope smiled.

&n
bsp; “Hope!” her mom called up the stairs. “Sinclair’s here.”

  “I’ll be right down!” Hope hollered back. She gave her reflection another glance and figured she’d do.

  Tromping into the kitchen, she stopped cold when she spotted Sinclair holding a huge florist’s bouquet of mixed flowers. Warmth spread through her. “For me?”

  He smiled. “For you.”

  She took the bundle and buried her face in the petals. Breathing in scents of rose and lily and the tangy perfume of daisies, she whispered, “They’re gorgeous.”

  His gaze caressed her. “So are you.”

  She stepped closer and soaked in every detail of the man who’d finally asked her out. “Thank you.”

  Her mother cleared her throat as she set a water-filled vase on the table with a clunk.

  Hope laughed. She’d forgotten her mom was in the room. Evidently Sinclair had, too, because his face flushed red under that scrumptious tan of his.

  “How was your day off?” Hope arranged her flowers in the vase. He’d called her at work that day only to confirm their date and suggest they go riding. “Were you in the orchard?”

  “A little. My parents flew back from Germany. I picked them up this afternoon.”

  Hope sobered. “How’s your cousin?”

  “Stable. My aunt and uncle will stay with him until he’s transferred to a VA hospital in the States. Ready?”

  “Yes.” A shiver trickled up Hope’s spine. She’d waited a long time for this. She turned to her mom at the sink washing pots and pans from dinner. “We’ll be back before dark.”

  “Be careful.”

  Hope glanced at Sinclair and smiled. “We will.”

  Walking to the barn, Hope glanced again at Sinclair. She’d known him forever, and yet she couldn’t seem to put two words together.

  He smiled.

  She smiled back.

  Silently, they entered the barn with its familiar smell of grain and warm horseflesh. Her horse, Sonny, nickered softly. She’d brought the horses into their stalls before dinner and lined up the tack to save time. All they needed to do was saddle up and go.

  When Sinclair looked a little lost, she asked, “Do you remember how to do this?”

  “Saddle up or ride?”

  “Both.”

  He grinned at her. “Watch me.”

  That wouldn’t be hard. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, too. She liked the way his muscles flexed as he swung the saddle onto the horse’s back. He straightened the saddle pad underneath and then tightened the girth strap.

  “You’ve got to watch Dusty. He bloats his belly. Give that strap another couple pulls to the next hole.”

  Sinclair nodded and yanked the girth strap higher. The horse groaned, shifted his weight and stomped a foot. “I don’t think he likes this.”

  “He’s fine. He wants to stay in the barn, and this is his way of trying to do that. He’ll get oats after we come back.” Hope struggled to tighten her horse’s girth strap.

  “Here, let me.”

  She felt the warmth of him as his arms came around either side of her. “I could get out of the way, you know.”

  “I kind of like you right where you are.” His lips brushed her ear.

  The smell of leather and Sinclair’s spicy scent teased her senses. She let her head fall back against his shoulder. “I do, too.”

  He kissed the side of her neck and whispered, “We better get moving.”

  “You started it.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, true. Now get out of the way, and I’ll cinch this strap.

  Hope stepped back and watched him closely. Had he also talked to Judy about being careful? Sinclair seemed hesitant, almost reserved, and that wasn’t like him. At least, it never used to be.

  After they’d mounted up, they headed for the twisting paths that led toward Lake Michigan. The air smelled sweet from the previous day’s cooling rain, and Hope couldn’t be happier. The horses, once they realized they were in for a pretty decent ride, settled down and eased along amiably. Even Dusty stopped trying to turn back for the barn.

  After a couple miles, Hope shifted in her saddle. It’d been a while since she’d last ridden. “Are you going to tell me what you and my father talked about yesterday?”

  “Curiosity killed the cat.” He chuckled softly.

  “Come on, you two were out there for ages.” And Hope had been pacing the whole time.

  He sighed. “At first we talked about what happened to Sara. Your dad doesn’t blame me, so that’s a huge relief.”

  “I’m glad he told you that.”

  “Me, too.”

  “And?”

  Sinclair grinned. “And nothing. I asked for permission to take you out. Which he obviously granted.”

  Hope smiled. “Obviously.”

  “So let’s just enjoy this, okay?”

  “Fine.” She got the hint. Don’t worry about their future. Stay in the moment. For now.

  “Good.” Sinclair grinned at her, and then he urged his horse into a canter and took off toward the beach.

  Hope laughed and followed. He’d be sore tomorrow. They both would, but it was worth it to ride like they used to—without a care in the world.

  When they reached Lake Michigan, the evening sun lay shrouded behind a bank of clouds lazing in the western sky.

  Hope pointed toward the horizon. “We’re not going to get a good sunset.”

  “We get plenty of good ones.” Sinclair dismounted, looped his reins around one hand and held the other one out to her. “Come on, let’s walk.”

  Hope followed suit, and threaded her fingers through his. They walked a vacant stretch of sandy shoreline with their horses trailing behind. “Thanks for suggesting this, and thanks for the flowers. Especially the flowers.”

  “You’re welcome.” He brought the back of her hand to his lips for a swift kiss and then stopped to pull her close.

  Waves lapped the shoreline, and the horses’ tails swished against their backs. Looking into Sinclair’s intent face, Hope wanted more than now. Her heart overflowed with her feelings. She loved him so much.

  Should she tell him?

  He dipped his chin to rest his forehead against hers. “I let the board know that I’d asked you out.”

  “Yeah?” Hope swallowed a sudden flutter of nerves. “We’ll be under the microscope now, won’t we?”

  He nodded. “Are you ready for it?”

  After releasing a deep breath, she laced her arms around his neck. “Are you?”

  He gave her that crooked smile that made her stomach flip. “I’m not playing games, Hope—”

  She touched her fingertips against his lips, even though her heart threatened to explode. “I’m not, either.”

  Sinclair hinted at forever, and Hope battled the urge to suggest they run away right now and make it legal. She’d promised not to let her parents or the church down. And she didn’t want any regrets.

  “One step at a time.” He nipped at her finger. “We have to take this one step at a time.”

  Hope had yearned for dates, late-night phone calls and the anticipation of seeing him again and again since she was a teenager. She shouldn’t squander those with a declaration of love given too soon. He was right. They needed to settle into a strong relationship before taking that next step.

  She sighed. “You’re going to make us do this right, aren’t you?”

  Her horse shook and then chose that moment to rub his face along her back and side, pushing her even closer against Sinclair. “There goes my clean shirt.”

  He tightened his grip around her waist. “You’re not making this any easier, you know.”

  She met Sinclair’s hazel eyes, which gleamed with an intensity that gave her go
ose bumps, and pulled back. “Sorry.”

  “I don’t want any regrets between us.”

  She didn’t either, but she sort of wished for a little of the old Sinclair who’d jump first and think later.

  * * *

  Hope looked up as Sinclair refilled his coffee mug for the fourth time. When he turned and smiled at her, she smiled back, hoping the increased speed of her heartbeats couldn’t be heard.

  They’d agreed to maintain a professional distance at work, but she hadn’t counted on the challenge that presented. Her fingers itched to brush back his hair that stuck out in places as if he’d tried to pull it out.

  Considering that she’d transferred a call to him from Chuck Stillwell fifteen minutes ago, it was no wonder Sinclair looked rattled. He’d received several phone calls from board members this week, and Judy had spent the better part of the morning holed up with him in his office.

  Could be about the upcoming building committee meeting, but she wrestled with the panicky feeling that the calls had something to do with her. Would they survive this dating scrutiny?

  “Ready for tonight’s meeting?” Sinclair stood next to her chair, holding coffee in one hand while the other gently rubbed her shoulder.

  She nodded. “I emailed you and the committee members a spreadsheet comparison that I prepared last week. Have you looked at it?”

  He leaned close. “I’ll check it out.”

  And she leaned away from him, away from the temptation to snuggle closer. “And then maybe you’ll tell me which way you’re voting?”

  “I’ll let you know at the meeting.” He gave her a playful wink, but his hazel eyes didn’t hold any clues. He’d dodged the same question last night over dinner.

  She watched him walk back to his office and sighed. Why wouldn’t he tell her?

  Shannon shook her head.

  “What?” Hope asked.

  “There’s like this magnetic force field around the two of you that’s downright sickening.” But she smiled. “Fact is, I’m a little envious.”

  Hope laughed. “Sorry.”

  “Judy said she saw you at dinner in Traverse City last night.”

  Hope frowned. “I wonder why she didn’t say hello.”