Love Sign by Susan Kirby

Author:Susan Kirby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2001-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

In the kitchen, Shelby turned idle hands into busy ones, the long-touted panacea for all that ailed. But her strength was riddled with holes through which the darkness crept. She cried to God, and His written word echoed back a familiar promise: “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, thou art with me.”

She let the verse and the ones that followed flow through her until the rushing quieted and she could hold an ingredient list in mind long enough to retrieve shrimp, mushrooms and fresh vegetables from the refrigerator. Deveining the shrimp, she hugged close the picture of a shepherd comforting a lamb with the touch of his staff. She cleaned the vegetables, capped some mushrooms and was putting rice on to cook when the phone rang.

Jake must have answered, for it didn’t ring again. Failing to find a wok, she heated olive oil in a black iron skillet instead. Her stir-fry over rice was almost ready to be served when Jake joined her in the kitchen.

“That was Wendy on the phone,” he told her, and crossed to the sink to wash his hands. “She and Homer are going to pick up Gram at Rosewood and take her to dinner and a quilt exhibit downtown before bringing her home.”

Shelby passed him a hand towel, and waited. But he offered nothing concerning her story. “Did you read it?” she ventured at length.

“Yes.”

“And?” Shelby prompted, anxious for his opinion.

“I like your style.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“I know,” Jake said. He returned Gram’s plate to the cupboard and her cutlery to the drawer. They clanged in the silent kitchen like a tinny piano. “Let’s have dinner and then we can talk about it.”

“I don’t feel much like eating,” Shelby admitted, peace seeping away.

“Humor me, then. I don’t want to eat alone.”

At a loss to deny him, Shelby iced the tea. He poured while she drained rice into a cobalt-blue dish, then seasoned the shrimp and vegetables with fresh herbs.

Jake seated her at one end of the long table and took the corner chair. He caught her cold hand in his. Shelby waited for the blessing. When none was forthcoming, she turned to meet his blue gaze.

“Gram’s not here to orchestrate. You take a turn,” he urged.

“I don’t know if I can,” she admitted.

“Sure you can,” he said gently. “It’ll do your heart good.”

Shelby swallowed a painful knot and bowed her head. “Dear Heavenly Father…” The lump grew in her throat. She pressed her lips together, released them and tried again. “Dear Lord…” But the lump swelled and escaped in a sob. “Oh, God, what a dreadful day!”

Self-accusations swamped her again like angry seas. She pushed her plate aside and buried her face in her hands. “I never should have used him in my story.”

Jake got up and returned to the table with a tissue. He pressed it into her hand, hunkered down beside her and patted her knee.

“You know what your problem is? You take your work too seriously.

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