A Hopeful Heart and A Home, a Heart, A Husband: A Hopeful Heart

“I always thought love and marriage would just happen, but lately work takes up more and more of my time, and truthfully, I just don’t know how I could fit a family in with that.” She grimaced. “Those residents are important to me. I don’t know if I could give them all up for a mere man.” She grinned teasingly.

“We’re not going into that man thing again, are we?” He groaned. “I already apologized three thousand times.”

“And that’s not nearly enough.” She smiled.

“You should talk! You called me out of shape, remember?”

“And?” She raised one eyebrow meaningfully. “If the shoe fits…”

“Time to go,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Before war breaks out.”

Melanie gratefully picked up her purse and moved to the door. She felt like a liar, because she knew she’d give up her so-called career in a minute for a loving husband and the warmth and comfort of a family of her own.

As they strolled along the street, Mitch took her hand in his and drew it through his arm.

“I think we’ll make good neighbors.” He grinned at her. “The really neighborly thing to do would be to invite me in for coffee.”

The hint was hard to miss, and surprisingly enough, she didn’t want to bid Mitch good-night just yet.

“Well, since you did take me out for dinner, I suppose it is the least I can do.” Melanie deliberately made the invitation as unappealing as possible, pretty sure he would jump at it. She didn’t want to seem too eager, after all!

They sat among the flickering candles on her patio, sipping the rich Colombian brew Melanie favored. In the dark, it seemed easier to talk.

“My mother often let me stay up in the summer and have chocolate milk on the porch. This reminds me of those times.” Her voice was soft and filled with memories, and Mitch seemed loath to break the spell of quiet contentment.

“She probably wished I’d go to bed, but she and Hope and Faith never tried to talk me out of my daydreams. I will always be thankful for their love and care. I guess that’s why I choose to work where I do.” She smiled happily. “Seniors have so much life and love and knowledge to contribute, if only someone would take the time to listen.”

“You were lucky,” he told her. That hard tone had frozen the emotion in his rumbly voice. “Some kids never get the chance to experience any of that.”

“But you had your grandfather. Didn’t you ever come visit?” Melanie searched her mind, trying to remember Mitch from some foggy distant encounter.

“Not very often. We lived too far away, and my parents couldn’t afford it. Gramps came to visit us once or twice a year for a week or so, but that’s all. After I was on my own, I’d come out as often as I could get away. We kind of developed a bond then.”

Melanie could tell the subject was closed, but she longed to ask him about his childhood, his parents, his background. One minute he was so charming and friendly, and the next he had closed up like a clam, cold and hard.

Soft music flowed on the evening air as someone on another patio below them enjoyed the cool evening air.

“Do you dance?” he asked suddenly.

Melanie stuttered over her answer. “Not very well. I, well, it’s been ages, and…”

Tall and dark in his denim shirt and pants, he stood before her. She tipped her head to look at him.

“Don’t tell me you’re uncoordinated, Melanie, or I will be forced to make some remark that will draw the battle lines between us. Again. May I have this dance?” he asked. His eyes glinted in the candlelight. “I have to get my exercise, you know.” And then Mitch tugged her gently from her chair without waiting for a response. “Here, put your arms around me like this.”

Melanie let Mitch push her bare arms around his neck and then stood silent while he wrapped his around her slender waist. She was nervous and sure he knew it.

“No fancy moves,” he reassured her. “Just swaying to the music.”

They swayed gently, moving slowly to the music. As he held, she was aware of his warmth and strength, the spicy scent of his cologne and the momentary brush of his beard-roughened cheek on her own. Her skirt swished around her legs as his foot grazed hers. It was wonderful and exciting, and yet they did nothing but move leisurely around the tiny terrace.

She was relaxed, Mitch knew as he inched one hand a fraction lower on her hip. It felt so good to hold her like this, close but not too close, her soft presence filling the night air. His chin fit perfectly on top of her head, and he could just catch the soft, intriguing scent of her perfume. Against his neck, her silky hair caressed and enticed him. He bent his head and pressed the tiniest kiss to the soft skin of her collarbone.

Melanie Stewart was every inch a woman, soft and curvy, yet caring and concerned. She interested him. No one had ever said the things she had and been allowed to get away with it, and yet this fiery woman continued to hold his attention.

“What did you think of Hope’s problem?” he asked finally, not wanting to break the companionable silence but needing to bring some reality into the evening.

“I don’t know what to think. I’m afraid for her.”

“Afraid?” He frowned. “For heaven’s sake, why?”

Her finger absently played with the hair that just touched his collar as she moved slowly with him. Her touch bothered him, sending electric currents through his blood.

“Melanie?”

“She’s waited so long. She’d almost let herself forget him. Did you know Hope has gone out with your grandfather a few times?”

Mitch jerked backward, staring at her in surprise. Suddenly, the little scene at Charity’s made sense.

“You mean she’s falling in love with him?” He frowned.

“I don’t know, but something was happening between them. She was finally beginning to let go of the past and consider the future.” Melanie heaved a sigh. “And now this.”

“Makes you wonder who’s in control of the universe, doesn’t it?” he laughed.

“Oh, I know that God’s in control,” she told him seriously. “And whatever He has planned is more wonderful than anything we could ever imagine. It’s just hard to understand right now.”

“I never thought of God as personally interested in our lives,” Mitch murmured. “I always think of Him as some far-off entity. In heaven, I guess.” He shrugged.

Melanie smiled knowingly. “Well, I’m certain He’s there, but He’s also here with us, guiding us through our daily lives. I just have to keep praying that Hope won’t be too badly hurt by all this.”

She snuggled her head against his shoulder, and Mitch stared at the stars. Melanie Stewart made him think of all those things he wanted but could never have. Things like a wife, a home of his own, a family. Things he had no business dreaming about.

Pulling her a little closer, he guided her carefully across the patio as the music died away. His left hand settled on her waist, and he tortured himself with the dream of someday holding someone who was special to him in just this way. In his ear there was a soft whisper.

“What?” he asked, missing the soft words.

“You move that hand any lower and you are in trouble.”

Privately, Mitch thought he was in trouble anyway, but he decided to change strategies. His mouth touched hers softly in a whisper of a kiss that was over before it began. When she kissed him back, he followed the curve of her jaw with a tiny, feather-light brush of his mouth. His nose nuzzled the sensitive spot under one ear. That brought a tiny sigh from her. Then she edged away, pressing her palms gently against his chest.

“Thank you for a very nice evening.” Her soft voice was primly correct, and he almost burst out laughing.

Nice? Talk about a nonresponse.

“You’re more than welcome. And thank you for coming to dinner.” He grinned at her, unabashed at the color flooding her face.

Bending, he pressed a kiss to her soft, pink mouth and one on a tiny freckle just below her eye. Then he whispered in her ear, “I enjoyed it. All of it.”