Where Treetops Glisten by Tricia Goyer

Author:Tricia Goyer [Goyer, Tricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60142-649-9
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2014-09-16T00:00:00+00:00

Saturday, December 18

Pete opened the door of the ’37 Hudson Terraplane, rescued from imprisonment under a tarp and filled with three precious gallons of gasoline. Grace stepped out and murmured her thanks, pale and quiet as she’d been since he picked her up.

He walked by her side along Ninth Street, refusing to interpret her silence as failure. After all, she hadn’t cancelled the date, and she’d invited him to stay for dinner twice this week. They’d talked and laughed together until Linnie’s bedtime, growing closer each day.

But tonight was different. Tonight was an official date.

Grace wore red lipstick and a whiff of perfume, and she’d curled and rolled her hair. But she held her shoulder bag across her stomach like a shield.

One tactic Pete took with his legal clients was to ask the big, hard questions straight out. He puffed a breath into the crisp evening air. “Is this your first date since … since George—”

“Yes.” Her cheek twitched. “And he was my first boyfriend.”

At least she gave the big, hard answers straight out. This evening had to be tough for her. Did she feel like she was betraying her husband’s memory? “Then I appreciate you accepting my invitation even more.”

She raised a twitchy smile. “How about you? Did the big handsome pilot leave a string of broken hearts across the British Isles?”

“Hardly. I haven’t dated in …” When had he gone out with Betty Jean? The senior partner at the Indianapolis law firm had begged him to date his pretty niece. That was 1939. “In four years. Wow.”

“Oh.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Then I appreciate your invitation even more.”

All sorts of sensations zinged through him, unfamiliar and fantastic. Father and Pastor Hughes were right. It was time to give, time to come out of solitude.

“You know, since Alfie died, I’ve had this—” He tapped his nose. “I’ve had it buried in schoolbooks or pressed to the grindstone.”

The corners of her mouth tipped up. “Better than poking it in other people’s business.”

“True.” At Avalon’s entrance, he held open the door and took a deep sniff. “But it’s time to inhale fresh air and good food and … perfume.”

She flushed, and once they were inside he helped her out of her coat. Her dress, a dark greenish blue, made her eyes stand out. Two jeweled pins were clipped to the corners of the square neckline, but she didn’t need adornment. None at all.

Pete guided her to the table with one hand to the small of her back, relishing the silky material of her dress. When was the last time he’d touched fabric other than military cotton or wool or leather?

They passed tables filled with Lafayette’s finest couples, some of whom he knew and some he didn’t. Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Rawlins he knew. Officer Rawlins had dragged Pete’s drunken, semi-conscious form home on many occasions. Now the policeman settled a hard gaze on Pete, while Myrtle Rawlins gasped, glancing back and forth between Pete and Grace.

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