A Time To Mend. Angela Hunt
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sporty convertible. Bailey took one look at the small space that passed for a backseat, then turned questioning eyes toward his mistress. “It’s okay, puppy,” Jacquelyn murmured in soothing tones. She cast a devilish look toward Craig. “Uncle Craig won’t mind if you rest your chin on his shoulder.”
Craig shook his head, then turned back into the house. “Where do you keep those little hand towels?” he asked, taking the front steps two at a time. “I’m not wearing dog drool to my meeting tonight. Honestly, Jacquelyn, the things I endure for you…”
Jacquelyn reached in to pull the front seat forward, then urged Bailey into the car. When the huge dog had gingerly seated himself, Jacquelyn slid into the front passenger seat and made a face. “Well, this is cozy,” she murmured, noticing that she would be riding a scant five inches above the pavement. “I’ll never understand why men are so crazy about sports cars.”
Immediately, the image of Jonah Martin and his Mustang focused in her memory. His car wasn’t as sporty as this one, but the same macho tendency toward fast speeds and sleek lines must reside somewhere in his psyche. Thank goodness Craig’s personal car was a nice, safe, boxy something-or-other.
Craig appeared a moment later, a small towel draped neatly over his right shoulder. For an instant he looked like one of the harried fathers Jacquelyn used to see coming from the nursery at her church—babies on their arms, spit-up rags on their shoulders. The image suited Craig so poorly that she nearly laughed aloud. Craig Bishop wasn’t ready for children. He kept insisting he wasn’t ready for marriage, but Jacquelyn knew she could make him change his mind. After all, nine months ago when they met he had assured her that he had no time for a steady girlfriend, and within two dates he’d been calling her every night and sending flowers every weekend. The next steps—marriage and children—well, she’d sway him toward those things as easily as she’d persuaded him to allow Bailey to come along on the picnic.
Jacquelyn was in no hurry. At twenty-eight, she had already battled and defeated the “always a bridesmaid, never a bride” disappointment. She would marry when and if it pleased her, and she’d marry Craig or someone like him. Someone logical, efficient and charming. Someone who wouldn’t mind her career, her dog, or her aversion to cooking.
“All right, I think that takes care of everything.” Craig slipped into the driver’s seat and paused a moment to glare at Bailey, then shook his head again. “Jacquelyn, I’ll never understand how a rational woman can lose every shred of sanity when it comes to a dog—”
“The same way a man can lose all his reason when he adores a woman,” she answered sweetly. She placed a protective hand on Bailey’s collar. “And Bailey is not just any dog. He’s a mastiff. I researched the breed, I knew what I wanted, and then I adopted a dog that needed rescuing. I’ve waited four years to own a mastiff, and I haven’t regretted my decision for one instant.”
“Okay.” Craig held up his hands in a sign of truce, then put the keys into the ignition. “If he’s as good a dog as you say he is, I guess I can learn to live with him. But he’s your dog, Jacquelyn, not mine.”
The engine roared to life, and under the noise Jacquelyn’s heart hummed happily. Craig could learn to live with Bailey. So he’d actually thought about marriage. Jacquelyn had made it clear that she would never live with a man without being married and Craig seemed to respect her views. He knew her belief in God’s commands about sexual purity would not allow her to consider surrendering her body before vowing her life and love at the altar.
Maybe, she thought, relishing the feel of the wind in her hair as the car pulled out into the street, he’s planning to propose today. They had packed a romantic picnic for two, complete with flowers and a blanket. The CD player in the trunk was loaded with lush, romantic music….
She turned her face toward the street so Craig wouldn’t see the light of hope in her eyes. Her unfulfilled dreams were simple: she wanted a loving man to live in her house, children to fill the empty bedrooms, a promotion to supervising nurse at the clinic. All in good time, of course, but now was as good a time as any to begin.
Jacquelyn wrapped her hand in Bailey’s collar, loving the warmth of his fur against her skin and the solid dependability of the man at her side.
The future looked suddenly brighter than it had only a few hours before.
Craig drove with deft skill, slanting from one lane to the next, dodging the slow-moving holiday drivers. Winter Haven, the central Florida city where Jacquelyn had been born and raised, retained many of its small town qualities even as other neighboring communities mushroomed into tourist meccas under the influence of Disney World. Disney’s irresistible lure had brought quick money and rows of ticky-tacky motels to towns like St. Cloud and Kissimmee, but Winter Haven remained largely untouched and Jacquelyn was grateful for the city’s slower pace.
Over one hundred lakes lay within the area surrounding Winter Haven. She and Craig drove to Lake Silver, one of the larger lakes with a clean public beach. As Jacquelyn staked Bailey’s long lead into the ground, Craig dutifully spread the blanket over a shady spot beneath a sprawling oak. The dog’s chain was at least twenty-five feet long, long enough for the pup to play freely while keeping him safely within calling distance. Though Jacquelyn knew Bailey had the gentle temperament of a sleepy kitten, but the dog’s sheer size might intimidate anyone who passed by.
“Here you go, Bailey,” Jacquelyn said, setting a huge bowl of fresh water in a shaded spot. Bailey obediently trotted over, slurped up a drink and then looked at his mistress as if awaiting instructions.
Jacquelyn laughed. “Go on, check things out, have fun,” she said, waving the dog away. “It’s a holiday.”
Craig came toward her, his biceps bulging under the weight of the picnic basket. “He’s only a dog, Jacquelyn. He hears everything you’re saying as ‘blah blah blah.’”
“I disagree,” Jacquelyn said lightly, not willing to spoil the beautiful day with an argument. “He understands more than you can imagine.” She turned to give Craig a hand with the basket. “And he’s smarter than the average dog.”
“Yeah, right,” Craig answered, but there was no malice in his tone as he lowered the basket to the blanket.
“What on earth did you pack in here?” Jacquelyn asked. She knelt and lifted the lid. “It weighs enough to hold food for ten people!”
“Just a little something to get us through the afternoon.” Craig slipped to the blanket beside her. His strong hand closed over her wrist and his brown eyes sought hers. “I wanted this to be a special day. Something we would always remember.”
A blush of pleasure rose to her cheeks. A special day! Abruptly she looked away, afraid he would read her eyes and know how desperately she wanted to hear that he was ready to marry her. She was more ready than she’d ever been. The past weeks with unpredictable Jonah Martin had convinced her that she wanted safety, logic, dependability in her life…and if she were married to Craig, maybe her heart wouldn’t jolt and her pulse pound every time Jonah Martin’s voice rang through the clinic corridor.
“This looks like fried chicken,” she said, lifting out one of the neat containers he’d packed into the basket. “Umm, it smells good. But I can’t believe this came from the grocer’s deli.”
“It didn’t. I got everything from Just Desserts.” He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “They do more than great cheesecake.”
“Potato salad—” she pulled another container from the basket “—and fresh-baked croissants?”
“With honey butter.”
“And what’s this?” She lifted out a plate-sized blue tin and shook it. Something rattled inside. “Cookies?”
“No, we have cheesecake for dessert.” His dark eyes glowed with a secret. “Open it.”
She grinned and pried the lid off, half eager, half afraid to discover Craig’s surprise. A cry of relief broke from her lips when she opened