Testing His Patience Read online

  With numb fingers, he lifted a gingerbread man. “Thanks.” And the small gift-wrapped box in his pocket niggled at him. When would they have a moment alone?

  “You’ll have to take some home for Darby,” she said and then moved toward his father and Dottie.

  “I was hoping you’d be bringing the little dear tonight,” Dottie gushed.

  “No, he’s with his mother tonight,” Gil said, not looking at Dottie. “I’ll pick him up midmorning tomorrow.”

  “That’s the way with these broken marriages,” his dad said gruffly. “The kids pay for their parents’ mistakes.”

  Hot lava scalded Gil’s empty stomach. The spicy-cinnamony gingerbread in his mouth turned bitter, galling. So it’s going to be a night of sniping.

  “All parents make mistakes, divorced or not.” Martina’s voice was low and sad.

  Gil turned to her, grateful for her understanding. Her expression was closed but downhearted. Yes, you must have many regrets.

  “Some parents don’t make the mistakes that others do,” his dad replied with a sharp glance at Martina.

  Martina’s pale face turned brick red.

  Gil looked directly at his father, ashamed of the cheap shot he’d just taken at Martina. Evidently, the Captain had discovered that Martina was a recovering alcoholic.

  Patience had frozen halfway to her mother with the cookie dish held out in front of her.

  Gil wished to let everyone know that his dad hadn’t been the perfect father, either. Gil reached toward Patience and took the dish from her. He set it on the coffee table. “At least I’m in the same town as my son for Christmas. I’m not off—”

  “What did Darby want for Christmas?” Patience interrupted in a forced lively tone and then walked to the love seat in the shadows away from the fire.

  Thank you, Patience… You’re right, this is Christmas. Again, Gil wanted to take Patience’s hands in his and leave this room, which was too full of his father’s disapproving face and Dottie’s flirtatious expression.

  Gil glanced around, trying to decide where to sit, somewhere he wouldn’t have to look at the Captain. “Darby wanted a remote-control motorcycle, a Harley—”

  “Just like that woman’s good-for-nothing boyfriend,” his father muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

  Gil steeled himself and went on, “Coreena and I decided she should give him the gift he wanted most.” Gil realized that his relationship with his ex had improved over the past few months. How? What had changed this? Was it Patience? She was the only new element. “It was her turn. I’m giving him an intricate Lego set. He plays with them the most.”

  “I’m sure he’ll enjoy that.” Patience motioned to him, inviting him to sit beside her on the love seat.

  Gil wondered if she was doing it out of sympathy, since his father had made his agenda for the evening very clear. It must be “Get Gil night.” So he didn’t argue. He sat down on the love seat, only inches separating them. The scent from the pine tree mingled with Patience’s fragrance and heightened all his senses.

  Was she responsible for the improvement in the way Coreena was behaving? Had Patience’s advice about letting Darby have more access to his mother paid off in easier communication and less resentment? Gil glanced at Patience. The light from the fire gilded her blond hair.

  She leaned closer to him. “Thanks for getting Dan Putnam out of jail this morning.” She gave him a private look.

  Bunny bustled into the room, a cut-glass vase with his roses held out in front of her. “I’m going to put the flowers in the window so everyone who passes can enjoy them, too.”

  “They’re lovely,” Patience said.

  You’re lovely. Gil couldn’t take his gaze from her.

  “Gil, did you see the gorgeous pink poinsettia your father brought tonight?” Bunny nodded toward the glowing hearth. “I put it by the fire so it would stay nice and warm.”

  “Ah, yeah, it looks great,” Gil mumbled and glanced at his father, who was giving him a nasty look. Gil’s irritation flared again. Now what did I do? Do roses trump a pink poinsettia?

  Patience rested her hand on the love seat between them.

  Was this an offer of understanding? Did she realize his father was needling him? In the flickering shadows cast by the fire, he ventured to lay his hand over hers. He waited for her to withdraw her hand. She didn’t.

  He curled his fingers around hers. Don’t let her touch be motivated by sympathy about the Captain, Lord. Patience, I want—

  She gave a little sigh only he could hear.

  “That meal sure smells wonderful,” the Captain said, beaming at Bunny.

  “Only a few more minutes.” Bunny sat down in a chair at an angle to the Captain and Dottie.

  “With your long naval career, I’m sure you had to spend many Christmases away from your family, Captain,” Bunny said. “What was the most unusual place you ever spent Christmas?”

  His father grinned, looking pleased at the subtle compliment implicit in the question.

  Gil bristled. His dad had the nerve to mock him because tonight Darby was with his ex-wife. But at least Gil was in the same town as his son on Christmas.

  “Well, I guess—” his dad started, grinning at Bunny.

  “His most unusual Christmas was spent in Rushton,” Gil interrupted with a snap to his voice. “He was only home one Christmas the whole seventeen years we lived here. That’s pretty unusual, wouldn’t you say?”

  The grin on the Captain’s face became a scowl.

  Dottie giggled nervously.

  Chapter Eleven

  Later, in Bunny’s country kitchen, Patience and Gil both stood with large white dishcloths in hand. He faced her, but she had turned halfway from him, avoiding eye contact. They were both drying the last of the dinner dishes and then the large pots and pans. During the homey, intimate chore, he had successfully hidden his awareness of her every move, every expression, every sound. But his throat had tightened painfully and so had his chest. How can I make her listen?

  “Well, that’s the last.” Patience let out a whistling sigh and laid the black enamel roasting pan on the counter. “It’s amazing how much time we spend preparing and cleaning up for a dinner that only lasts an hour or so.”

  He nodded. All the light in the kitchen seemed to hover over and around the lovely woman before him. He didn’t want to talk about dishes. He wanted to talk to Patience alone, had to talk to her—and it had to be alone.

  After twitching the damp dishcloth from his hands, she folded it along with hers and hung it over the drying rack. Then she motioned toward the door to the hall. “Shall we join the others?” she asked.

  He’d suffered sitting stiffly across from the disapproving Captain throughout dinner. Now Gil had no intention of getting anywhere near his father again tonight.

  Could he whisk Patience away to his place? The wind with ice prickles buffeted the kitchen windows, dousing this idea. He shifted on his feet. “I’ve never seen your place.”

  “Oh, all right.” Patience sounded less than eager. “This way.”

  She led him to and up a staircase in the chilly back hall. At the top of the back stairs, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, switching on an overhead light fixture.

  He entered a small kitchen that opened on to a large room. Before she could prevent him, he walked through the kitchen into the living room. His mouth had gone dry and his throat still felt squeezed tight.

  “This is nice.” He could have thumped his skull like a ripe watermelon. You’re a conversational genius, Montgomery.

  “I like it.” Hanging back as if ready to take him back downstairs, she stood with her hands folded in front of her.

  Come up with something fast or it’s return to the Captain. “What do these doors lead to?” Gil pointed.

  “I have a bedroom and bath. All that I need.” Patience stepped back toward the kitchen. Soon she’d be ushering him out.

  He grabbed at straws. “Does your mom
live up here with you?”

  “No, she rents a room downstairs from Bunny by the week.” Patience took another retreating step.

  Honesty is the best policy. He faced her. “Do we have to go back down right away? I’m kind of hoping they won’t miss us and my dad will leave before I do.” And I’ll have time to tell you what I need to say, no matter your reaction.

  She nibbled her lower lip. “All right…. Have a seat.”

  They sat down on a slightly worn sofa, both of them stiff and over two feet apart. Why did it feel as if they were strangers on a first date? Was it because he’d trespassed on this, her private space? Or maybe because he wanted this to be a date?

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “that your father and you are having—”

  “It’s nothing new,” Gil cut her off, his temper rearing up hotter than before. “We’ve never gotten along. When I was a kid and he was on active duty, he’d come home from whatever assignment for a few weeks or months. He’d always march into the house, barking orders and evaluating our performance levels, upsetting our peace.”

  “Your mom and you?” Not looking up, she pleated her skirt hem.

  He nodded. “When I was very little, I always looked forward to his homecomings. But by the time I was in fourth grade, I’d learned better. It created a terrible conflict in me. I wanted to see him, and I never wanted to see him again.”

  “I know that feeling.” She rubbed her palms together.

  I’ll bet you do. “Anyway, I don’t think the Captain and I will ever be close. Nothing I’ve ever done has been good enough to suit him and quite frankly, I don’t try anymore.”

  “He cares for Darby.” Patience settled back against the sofa cushion.

  “Yes, but what else does he have left in his life?” Gil took her cue and stretched out his legs, trying to appear relaxed. “His career is finished, his wife is dead and he has no hobbies. I really didn’t want him to settle here. I told him he shouldn’t, that he’d probably be happier somewhere with more activity.”

  “Maybe he finally wanted a family.” Patience angled her body, facing him.

  She was so near and approachable.

  “Maybe he waited too long.” He captured her hand, edging closer to her. “I don’t want to talk about my father anymore. I’ve wasted enough energy on him tonight already.” Afraid of losing his nerve, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her palm. “I’d rather talk about us.”

  She made no answer, save a quick intake of breath.

  Her response gave him courage. “I know you may not want to hear what I have to say, but I can’t hold the words in any longer.”

  She tried to pull back her hand. “Gil, no, I—”

  “I care for you.” Taking pains not to hurt her, he imprisoned her hand between both of his. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Silence except for a swell of girlish laughter from the room below. Dottie.

  “Gil…” Patience stammered, “I…I’m very flattered, but I’m not…”

  “Not what? Not available? Is there someone else in Chicago maybe?” He drew her hand up to his cheek.

  “No, no one anywhere and there won’t be.” She shook her head, looking downhearted. “You know all about me, about how I was raised. I’m just not a good candidate to fall in love with. I come with…with baggage.”

  “We all come with baggage.” He brushed his cheek against the back of her hand. “I have an ex-wife and a son, remember?”

  “It’s not the same. I’m sure you tried very hard to make your marriage a success. Bunny told me—” she blushed “—that you didn’t want the divorce, that you wanted to stay married and work things out. But Coreena was adamant—”

  “And with no-fault divorce, I couldn’t fight it,” Gil finished for her. “But don’t blame Coreena for our divorce. Our marriage was a mistake from the start. We were so young and we married for the wrong reasons.” He lowered her hand, but retained it, warming it with his.

  “What reasons?”

  “I married Coreena because she was very pretty and very sexy and my father hated her.” His voice was grim. “I was much too immature to marry.”

  “How old were you?” She stopped trying to pull away.

  “Twenty.”

  “That is young.” Her low velvety voice worked on him as it always did.

  “But I’m nearly thirty now.” He gazed into her sober brown eyes. “I know better now what I want. I want you, Patience. In the few short months we’ve known each other, you’ve brought so much…light—and I guess it’s hope—into my life.”

  “I haven’t done anything—”

  “You’ve helped Darby more than anyone else ever has. He’s a much happier kid now.” It lifted his spirits to finally state this truth out loud. “It’s all due to you. I know it is.”

  She tried to interrupt.

  “In all the years after our divorce,” he forged on, “I’ve never gotten along with Coreena so well. I couldn’t believe this year how calmly we discussed how to handle Darby’s Christmas. It was like a miracle.” His voice reflected his awe at this.

  “Darby loves his mom and you very much.” Patience looked away. “You two are lucky to have him.”

  He kissed her hand again and then drew it up, stroking his cheek with her palm. “That’s what I mean. You saw my son as he is, a child in need of love and care. You didn’t just dismiss him as a problem to be dealt with. You saw him as a lovable child. You accepted him, loved him.”

  The murmur and gurgle of voices from below and the wind gusting and prickling against the second-story windows made a soothing white noise.

  Patience gazed with wonder as Gil bent and again kissed first one of her hands and then the other and pressed each side of his face in turn into her palms.

  Her pulse shimmered through her and she felt herself softening to his tender touch. She bent over his bowed head. Pulling one hand free, she ran her fingers through the bittersweet chocolate of his hair and pressed a kiss into the curls tangled around her fingers.

  “Gil,” Patience whispered, “you are so tempting to me. I shouldn’t care about you…but I do.” She kissed his hair again. “I’ve avoided becoming attached… I’ve always kept my distance from anyone I might have…fallen in love with.

  “Gil, I’m not a good bet.” Her voice caught in her throat. “I won’t marry unless I’m convinced that it’s to someone like my uncle Mike—a loving man, a man of God. That’s the only way it could work, because I know nothing of how to be a wife or mother. My own mother was a bad example, and Aunt Mary got sick and died before I was ready. I feel like I could have learned even more from her.”

  “Martina’s past doesn’t matter to me and I am capable of love, Patience. I love you. You’re right, though. I haven’t been close to God for a long time.”

  He paused. “People were so unkind when I married Coreena and so rejecting when she divorced me. It’s hard to keep going to church when all you see are disapproving stares.”

  He pressed his lips to her hand again. “But I didn’t feel the same this Sunday, and Darby was excited that I had come with him. I’d always sent him to Sunday school on the weekends he was with me. I didn’t talk about God at home, but I didn’t want him to grow up without God. My mother taught me that much.”

  He raised his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “We deserve a chance, Patience. Both of us.”

  She trembled at his gentle touch.

  “Your past and mine shouldn’t mean we don’t get a future.” He gazed into her eyes and then tried to kiss her mouth.

  “Gil.” She pulled back. “I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. You don’t know the true me. You don’t know the deep well of unforgiveness that I hold against my mother. I don’t have the emotional reserves to make love last a lifetime. And I won’t settle for less.”

  “You’re fencing with me.” Gil clung to her hands. “Have you forgotten why we are up here? Partly to get away from my da
d. I’m having trouble forgiving my remaining parent, too. I don’t know if I have the emotional maturity it takes to make love last, either. Don’t you see, Patience? We won’t know if we don’t even try.”

  “But—”

  He silenced her with a kiss.

  She sighed against his lips, unable to stop herself from kissing him. A thousand thoughts, sensations poured through her consciousness, but the only thing that seemed real were Gil’s lips, so firm and insistent.

  He gripped her shoulders fiercely and tenderly at the same time.

  She rubbed her cheek against his, reveling in the chafing against his stubbly chin, this masculine texture.

  “Gil,” she breathed.

  He placed kisses up her throat and then her sensitive earlobe and finally, dipped to touch her nape.

  She sighed, clutching his shoulders.

  He pulled her deeper into their embrace and buried his nose behind her ear. “Patience,” he whispered, “we don’t have to go fast. Why don’t we just take it day by day? If this isn’t going to work out, we’ll know soon enough. I don’t think divorce is an unforgivable sin and I don’t think you should take the sins of your mother onto your life.”

  “Gil, I—”

  “We’ll take it slow.” He pressed another kiss to her nape, breathing in her delicious fragrance. “And I’ll come back to church and get myself straight with God again. Ever since He brought you into my life, I’ve felt the anger and hurt over my divorce draining away from me.”

  “Gil, I—” she repeated.

  “Don’t limit God, Patience. Christ died for my sins, past, present and future.” Then he recited an old memory verse: “‘If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ First John 1:9. Don’t limit God.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes and she bent her forehead to his. “Gil, Gil.” She kissed his dark eyebrows.

  Suddenly, a pounding of footsteps on the back stairs. Patience jerked away from Gil and stood up, wiping her tears away with her fingertips.