Loving Hearts Read online

  “That’s a great feature,” Esther added, pulling out her notebook and making notations. “That and the bimini.”

  He beckoned them along, and as they went, Garrison pointed out a smaller sloop, probably thirty-four feet, excellent for a few hours’ sailing, and another ketch suitable for three or four sailors who wanted to experience an overnight trip.

  When Garrison had finished, they followed him back to the building. Ian’s mind felt saturated with information, and he was pleased that Esther had picked up brochures and taken volumes of notes—the model and details of each vessel. They could discuss them all later.

  “Thanks for your help,” Ian said, extending his hand to the owner.

  Garrison grasped it. “You’re welcome. If you think of anything later, feel free to call.”

  “I may just do that,” Esther said, thanking him before they left.

  With their Sailing Adventures brochures and the notebook, Ian and Esther headed to his car. In the parking lot the gravel crunched beneath their feet and the seagulls wheeled overhead, filling the air with their raucous cries. Ian opened Esther’s door, and when she was seated, he rounded the car and climbed inside.

  “My mind’s loaded,” he said, taking a long, slow look at Esther’s face. She’d been quiet today. More businesslike.

  Wishing he knew why, Ian reviewed the past Sunday when he’d met her father. Ian had thought the day had gone well…at least for Rachel and Jeff. Uriah had said he’d pray about Ian’s way of looking at the situation, and that seemed like a good step to Ian.

  Esther leaned over and slid the booklets and notepad into an attaché case before turning to face him. “I thought this was worthwhile. Thanks for your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, sensing again the distance between them. Knowing if he let things go they would only get worse, he grappled for a solution. “I’m starving,” he said, hoping a lunch outing would also break the tension. “Let’s stop and eat.”

  “That’s fine,” she said.

  “How about the Crosswinds? They have good food.”

  “Sure. Anything,” she said.

  Her response seemed lackluster, but he didn’t let that sway him. They traveled the short distance in silence, and after he parked, Ian hurried around to open her door.

  “Thanks,” she said, stepping to the pavement. She walked beside him into the restaurant.

  The dining room was quiet. Only a few tables were filled and the guests were widely spaced around the room, allowing customers some privacy. Ian held Esther’s chair until she was seated, then slid onto another. In unison, they lifted the menus and surveyed the choices.

  When Ian made his selection, he placed the menu on the table corner, folded his hands and waited.

  After a lengthy pause, Esther looked up. “You’ve decided already?” she asked.

  He gave her a slight nod, returning her silence.

  She shot him a knowing look as if she realized he was echoing her withdrawal. Placing her menu on top of his, she gave him a direct look. “I’m making better progress than I’d expected on the research. I may have it ready sooner than the first of the year.”

  The announcement surprised him—disappointed him, in a way. “Philip will appreciate that,” he said. Though the conversation had only turned to Bay Breeze, Ian felt grateful they were talking.

  “I’ll go over the information with you beforehand,” she said, “but I think Philip’s wasting his time with any consideration of acquiring fishing charters.”

  “Why’s that?” Ian asked.

  “Too many companies in the area. Over thirty, if I remember correctly.”

  “That many?”

  She nodded. “It would hardly be worth the cost of a captain and crew. Let alone the boat, gear and insurance.”

  “I really thought having a fishing charter available at the resort would be a nice draw for guests,” Ian said. “Better than having to arrange their own bookings in advance.”

  She straightened. “But I have an idea. I even sent out a couple of feelers.”

  She’d piqued his interest.

  Esther sipped the glass of water before continuing. “What do you think about negotiating a contract with a nearby fishing charter company?”

  “What do you mean—contract?” Ian asked.

  Her face brightened and her voice rose with enthusiasm. “Bay Breeze could work out a deal with a nearby fishing charter. The resort would bring them new business, and in return, the resort guests would get a discount.”

  Amazed at her creative idea, Ian reached across and rested his palm on her hand. “That’s good thinking, Esther.” Even the simple touch sent longing scurrying through his chest.

  “The typical fee is about a hundred dollars plus another hundred per hour. So four hours costs about $495. If the charter company would knock off a hundred, let’s say, that would be a saving to resort guests and no great loss to the charter company.” Her voice died away.

  Ian glanced over his shoulder and spotted the waitress, and they curbed their conversation until she took their orders and picked up the menus.

  When she left, Ian continued. “Did you say you’d put out some feelers?”

  Esther nodded. “Two of the four companies I spoke with sounded like they’d be willing to negotiate. Philip might work toward a bigger discount, but anything would help.”

  Ian agreed, and seeing her enthusiasm made him even happier.

  Their food arrived, and during the meal they rehashed the sailboats and what might work for Bay Breeze. Ian agreed the boats would be a great draw, and he felt confident that Philip would want to add at least one, maybe two vessels to be available to the resort guests for a fee.

  He finished his sandwich first and leaned back, sipping his soda and watching Esther take bites of her taco salad. She picked up a corn chip and nibbled on it, then used another to scoop up some of the meat sauce. She mesmerized him.

  When Ian first met Esther, she’d come across as authoritative, intelligent and decisive. Now he observed her vulnerability, the part of her she hid from most people by not getting too familiar with them.

  But he’d gotten close to her—closer than most, he guessed—and her sensitive side nudged Ian’s heart. She was as tough as cotton…and as pure.

  “Why are you looking at me?” Esther asked.

  Uneasy that she’d noticed, Ian chuckled. “Just thinking about us.”

  A frown narrowed her eyes, and tension pulled at her mouth. “What do you mean, us?”

  “How well we’ve gotten to know each other,” he said. “I understand everyone keeps part of his psyche a secret, but…” He hesitated, not knowing how to say what he was thinking without Esther building her protective wall. “We’ve become real friends.”

  She didn’t move, instead studied his face.

  Ian held his breath, wondering what was coming.

  Her eyes shifted. “Yes. We have become friends.”

  He relaxed and filled his lungs.

  “But…I suppose that’s the problem.”

  “Problem?” Ian faltered. Only Esther could find difficulty with having a friendship. His shoulders drooped while he waited.

  A misty glaze filled her eyes, and he noticed her cheek tremble. “I feel guilty. Sitting in church last Sunday, everything hit me. The deceit. The injury. The sin.”

  “Whoa.” Ian straightened his back and lost any sense of good humor. “We created a little cover-up to give you a break from Rachel’s matchmaking. Most of the assumption was part of Rachel’s and Jeff’s imaginations.”

  That wasn’t exactly true. The relationship had become real to Ian. Only Esther fought getting close and letting go of her single life.

  “But we did things to lead them on. You can’t deny that.” Her misty eyes widened.

  “At first, yes. I admit that, but then we reacted with real emotions, Emotions of two people who’d…become friends.” He’d almost slipped and said two people who loved each other. He cou
ldn’t deceive himself anymore. Telling her—no matter what happened—was all he could do.

  He grasped his courage. “Esther, listen—”

  “No, you listen, Ian. Yes, you’ve been a…good friend. I enjoy your company, but you and I both know we have absolutely no intention of making any more of this relationship than what it is. A friendship.”

  His lips twitched with the words he’d started to say. Maybe she knew that she had no intention, but Ian had begun to feel differently. Much differently. His admiration had grown. His enjoyment of her company had grown. His yearning for a loving commitment with her had grown.

  Her words catapulted from his head to his heart. Why make a fool of himself, falling on his knees and begging her to love him? Better rise to the occasion and agree. “Okay.” His chest ached with the pounding of his heart. “So what are you…we going to do?”

  “You don’t have to do anything. I can tell her we broke up,” Esther said, a look of sadness filling her eyes.

  “But that’s more deceit,” he said, hoping to help her come to her senses. “Let’s just let things go, Esther, and see what happens.”

  He grasped her hand, yearning to bring it to his lips and kiss it. “Your father’s thinking over what I said. Remember? He said he’d pray about it. If God’s willing, he may just change his mind. Then the point is moot. Why upset Rachel if there’s no need?”

  Praying she’d listen, Ian watched her expression shift and change.

  “You’ve made a point, but…” She lowered her head and lifted her hand, stroking the bridge of her nose. “But if this gets out of hand any more than it already has, I’ll have to talk with Rachel and tell her it was all a game.”

  The whole thing had begun as a charade for Esther, but not for Ian. He couldn’t tell her now. His feelings for her had germinated for a year before he’d initiated any real contact, thinking it might blossom into a meaningful relationship. “Whatever you have to do.”

  Her look settled the matter. She’d ended it, and he would keep quiet. “When should we get together to go over this part of the report?”

  She pushed her salad away, half-uneaten, wiped the napkin across her mouth and dropped it on the table. “Give me a few weeks.”

  He only nodded, his mind heavy with thought. Silence stretched into discomfort. “Dessert?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Then we can go.” He pushed back his chair and rose. Before he could get to Esther she had swiveled in her chair and was standing.

  He still had time. Time to capture Esther’s heart. Time to test his courage and tell her the truth.

  “What do you think?” Esther asked, shifting her focus from the report.

  “Perfect.” Ian held a copy in his hand and fingered the pages. “Philip will be impressed, and I think you’ve come to a perfect conclusion. One sailboat the first year, then another if it looks successful, and work out a contract with a local fishing charter. You get an A plus.”

  “Thanks.” She sent him a sincere smile.

  “I’ll set up an appointment with Philip so you can do an oral presentation.”

  “That’s good,” she said. “Once he’s had a chance to read it, I’ll answer any questions.”

  “It’s a good report. I know he’ll think it’s money well spent.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you. I think you know that,” Esther said.

  “Yes, you could,” he said. He paused a moment, then let the conversation shift in another direction. “Any news from your dad?”

  “News?”

  “Has he said anything about changing his mind? Blessing Rachel and Jeff’s engagement?”

  Esther shook her head. “God will have to hit him with a club.”

  A chuckle flew from Ian before he could contain it. “Sorry, but that struck me funny.”

  “Funny, but true. Dad’s probably still praying.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I told Rachel that you’d met Dad and what you’d said. She was thrilled and hopeful.” She let her hand drop to her lap. “That’s the part that bothers me.”

  “You mean being hopeful?”

  “Yes. I told her not to get too excited about it all, but Rachel’s backed in a corner. She loves Dad, and naturally she loves Jeff. Which one will she hurt? It’s a no-win situation.”

  “Being an optimistic sort, I’d like to think your dad will eventually come around.”

  She released a faint chuckle. “I’d like to think the same, but like I said, God will have to use a club. No matter. You made a valiant effort.” The good humor stayed on her face.

  Feeling assured, Ian rose and walked to the edge of her desk. He leaned against it and lifted her hand from the report. “These fingers have worked so hard.

  What do you think about giving them a break and having dinner with me tonight?”

  Her smile faded. “I can’t, Ian, but thanks. I promised Rachel I’d go with her to the Grand Haven Streetfest.”

  Ian tried to cover his disappointment. “Where’s Jeff?”

  “He’s working overtime tonight. Someone’s ill. But he said he’d have a replacement in a few hours and meet her there later.”

  “Would you mind if I came along?” Ian asked, grasping his courage. He’d put her on the spot, but at this point, all seemed fair in love and war.

  Pausing, she slipped her hand from his, then rolled back the chair to rise. “I don’t see why not. We can eat junk food there. Maybe some of those sausages you love.”

  Ian shifted from the edge of her desk, pleased she remembered. “Do you want to call Rachel to warn her?”

  “Warn her?”

  “That I’m coming along.”

  She sent him a faint smile. “No, she won’t care.”

  “What about Rachel’s sister?”

  Esther eyed him a moment as if she didn’t understand. Finally his question sank in and she laughed. “She doesn’t mind at all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Esther hid the excitement she felt with Ian at her side. Last year she’d come to the city’s annual Streetfest alone, ambling along Washington Avenue and feeling like an outsider from the world.

  Tonight after Rachel and Jeff found each other, she and Ian meandered down the sidewalk, gawking at all the stands and displays. The city’s autumn tradition brought the community downtown to enjoy dinner at one of the restaurants or fill up at the stands providing food samples, to visit the merchants’ exhibits and to dance in the street until midnight.

  When the crowd became heavy, Ian slid his arm around her back, maneuvering her through the groups of window-shoppers and around the food displays. “There’s cider over there. Want some?”

  “Sure. It’ll help wash down the crackers and spicy cheese spread,” Esther said, reiterating the storekeeper’s pitch.

  Grinning, he unloosened his arm and darted to the local cider mill display. He hurried back with two small paper cups. “Only a mouthful, but it’s better than nothing.”

  She took a sip, enjoying the cleansing tang that helped to quench her thirst. “I should buy a jug before I leave tonight.”

  “See, these displays aren’t here for nothing,” he said, downing the contents of his cup in one swallow.

  Two more sips and hers vanished. She crinkled the paper and tossed it into a trash can. “Couldn’t ask for a nicer evening.” Beneath the aroma of food, the scent of autumn hung on the air—drying leaves and moldering earth bound in a crisp breeze from the north.

  “Problem is,” he said, “it means winter’s on the way. I like the autumn colors, but I miss summer.”

  She smiled. “It’s the boating you miss.”

  “You know me best,” he said, and gave her arm a squeeze. “I’d like to take the boat out at least once more before I have to put it in storage.”

  Esther heard it coming and prepared herself.

  “I know your last trip was so awful. Terrible memories instead of the good ones I’d hoped you’d have.”

  He paused
, and she waited.

  “I hoped you might come with me again. Give it another try.”

  She shook her head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Seriously. It’ll be our celebration…finishing the report early. Please. Come with me?”

  “Oh, Ian—”

  “I know, Esther, but you were handling it, and I really think you should give it one more try.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  His abrupt answer tickled her, and she laughed. “How can a woman say no with an explanation like that?”

  He slipped his arm around her waist. “When it comes to words, I’m prolific.”

  They reached the end of the street, close to the lake. On a temporary platform a local band had just returned from their break and struck up a loud rock-and-roll tune. The thrumming bass notes reverberated through the air, and couples left sidewalk attractions to dance on the street.

  “Be honest, and tell me if I ever look like that,” Ian yelled above the noise.

  She didn’t bother to respond. Her voice would have been lost in the wailing arpeggio of the lead guitar. Though Esther loved the rhythm and beat of a good band, her preference leaned toward something soft and mellow. Still, tonight she couldn’t help but tap her foot.

  When the song ended, Ian leaned closer. “Let’s hope the next one’s a little softer.”

  “I second that motion,” she said.

  His wish came true. The guitars muted, and a singer stepped to the mike, sending out the words to a popular love song.

  “Dance?” Ian asked.

  Her heart skipped. “I haven’t danced in years.” She hadn’t been kidding when she said years. Probably high school.

  He didn’t accept her excuse. “Just follow me,” he said, taking her hand and luring her into the street.

  Slipping his arm around her back, Ian tucked her hand against his chest and guided her into the rhythm.

  Esther fell into step, and when she calmed, she sensed he did, too, swaying and pivoting to the music and tempting her to stay in his embrace forever. She inched her hand along his arm, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles tensing and easing beneath his lightweight jacket. He rested his cheek against her hair, and she basked in the warmth and closeness of his body.