An Ordinary Love (A Christian Contemporary Romance) (Sidney's Sanctuary Book 1) Read online

  Matt spoke under his breath,“That woman would marry you so fast she’d beat Flo Jo down the aisle.”

  “That’s absurd. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Matt remained in his seat and asked for another cup of tea. He picked up the paper Kell had left behind. His son concerned him. It had been six years since Chelsea passed away and still no sign that Kell even thought about dating anyone. And Lord knew every single woman on the island thought about him. Even half the married women thought about him.

  After Chelsea died, Kell moved back to Perez with Jake. Matt, whosewife had also recently passed away, asked him to move back into the farmhouse. He figured it would help with Jake, bring some stability to the boy after his mom’s death. He also hoped it would curb the loneliness of losing his own wife, Jane. In part it did, but he and Kell were both weary and overwhelmed. Kell was a good father—quiet, intentional, patient—but he was tired. His medical practice was busting at the seams and Jake seemed to need more, not less as he grew older. Matt wasn’t sure how much longer they could go on. There seemed to be a hole in their lives. He missed his wife with an ache close to arthritis pain in his heart. He missed the companionship of a woman, the smell they left behind in a room, light conversation in the early evening of a day’s end.

  If he spoke to Kell about it, his son would walk away, wanting nothing to do with any mention of pain or loss. He parented, he doctored, but he didn’t love. He didn’t risk his heart with anyone, and he wasn’t interested in talking to people who did. Matt stared into the table, feeling the weight of life encroach around him, when someone tapped his shoulder.

  “Pastor Matt? You got a minute?”

  He lifted his eyes. Big Dan, the dairy farmer, towered over him. He and Kell were good friends.“Well, hello Dan.” He smiled at the broad man in front of him. Dan and Betty Holberg were an intricate part of life here on Perez. Dan ran the oldest dairy farm on the island and Betty faithfully attended his church. She helped with weddings and funerals, and was renowned for her baking. Dan hadn’t stepped foot in the church for years. Whenever Matt asked Betty about it, she’d shake her head.“He talks to God in the fields, Pastor.”

  But here he was in front of him, shuffling his feet. Dan rubbed his cheek with his calloused hand, long stained with dirt in the creases, looking as sick as a young boy coming off a roller coaster.

  Dan leaned forward.“Can we talk somewhere a little more private?”

  “Sure, Dan.” He guided him to the back where few people would see them. The morning rush had ended.

  Dan glanced from side to side. His body filled up the whole table. Silver streaks lined the sides of his head and he wore the flannel shirt, rubber boots, and Carhart jeans one expects from a dairy farmer.“I had a question for you,” Dan said, leaning in. Matt scooted closer to hear him.“It’s a question about temptation. That is, I mean—on how to deal with it.” He squinted his eyes and crinkled his face, as if someone were torturing him.

  Matt thought for a moment. What in the world was Dan up to? The new casino nearby was certainly driving a lot of folks to gamble, but Dan didn’t seem the sort. He was a family man, with four grown sons, and a few young grandchildren.“What sort of temptation do you mean?” he asked.“It might help if I had more to go on.”

  Dan flipped around, eyed all those left in the cafe.“It’s nothing specific, Pastor. Just a bit of advice on how to avoid doing something you want to do because in reality you don’t really want to do it.”

  Matt cleared his throat.“I see. Well, you can pray. Ask God to help you. You can think about what is right. Run the other way. The Bible says to flee temptation. Don’t play with fire in other words.”

  Big Dan’s eyes grew wider as he nodded, taking it all in. He started to get up and then looked back at Pastor Matt.“I love my wife. I really do.”

  Matt’s face darkened. Oh dear. He hadn’t even mentioned Betty. What in the world was going on?“I know you do,” he told him.“You just keep loving her and you’ll go right.”

  “Yes, of course I will. This has nothing to do with her, it sure doesn’t.”

  “Dan, if there’s something you’d like to tell me, I might be able to help.”

  Big Dan stood up, almost spilled the coffee cup. He set it aside, his hand trembling.“That’s okay, Pastor Matt. Thanks for the advice.”

  Matt watched him rush out of the café. One more reason why he shouldn’t retire. How could he retire when his people needed him? This was exactly what he’d been talking about. He couldn’t retire just because he reached a certain age. Being a pastor was not a job. It was a calling.

  ~

  Kell ambled over to his practice. He hoped his ten o’clock wasn’t another woman coming in with a bad cold. He enjoyed his life as a doctor. However, he wasn’t convinced there was anything wrong with most of the women coming in this summer. He was getting tired of their quiet sighs and gentle smiles every time he listened to them breathe. It made him want to run to the hills.

  For a long time after he moved back to the island women treated him with a kind regard, especially because they knew he was grieving his wife, but recently, thanks to Betty Holberg announcing at the 4th of July picnic that he was officially on the market again, he had a surplus of single women coming in.

  He stepped into his clinic. His receptionist smiled at him.“Hello Dr. Kellen. Your ten o'clock is waiting for you.”

  “Thanks, Mary.

  “It’s Candace Peterson.” Her voice held a tightness, like she was walking on the edge of something.

  His eyebrows crinkled up.“I’m not Candace’s pediatrician. What’s she doing here?”

  Mary leaned over the counter and cleared her throat.“She asked if she could pee in a cup. I’m testing it right now. It’s ready for you in the bathroom.”

  Oh Goodness. Astrid Peterson’s granddaughter was pregnant and coming to see him? He glanced out the window, squinting his eyes.

  “What’re you looking for, doctor?” Mary asked.

  “The nearest set of hills.”

  “It’s not hilly on Perez.”

  “I know. If there were hills, I’d have run to them a long time ago.”

  Mary grabbed Candace’s chart and set it into his hand.“Go see your patient.”

  He went to the lab to check on the pregnancy test. A blazing positive. Little Candace was pregnant. Little Candace wasn’t so little anymore. He hadn’t heard she was dating anyone. The last guy he’d heard about was Dan Holberg’s son, Danny. That was a couple years ago. After Betty ran her out of the barn with a broomstick, he figured she’d decided to stay far away from Danny Holberg.

  “Hi, Candace,” he said, opening the door. He walked into the room and sat down on the rolling stool kept against the wall. She was already sitting on the chair next to the window with her knees tucked up to her chin. Her pale face and hollowing cheeks revealed enough to see she’d been dealing with nausea. She also held a bag of saltine crackers. She dressed in all black, as if in mourning, down to the black nail polish. Her face had hardened since the last time he saw her, and the beautiful blue eyes that had been her most striking feature seemed distant.

  “What’s the verdict, Dr. Kellen?” She took a bite of cracker.

  “Positive. You’re pregnant.”

  She bit her lip and stared out the window, her face tinged with cynicism.“I always knew I’d never get further than this island.”

  He thought for moment before speaking, his heart filling with pain for her. He took a quick breath.“Oh, I don’t think you should be worried about that. Why don’t we figure out a few things before you resign yourself to life stuck on this island? From the looks of it, you’re not very far along. When was the first day of your last period?

  “I think I’m about nine weeks along.”

  “Have you told your partner?”

  “My partner? Oh right. We don’t use words like‘the dad’ when we’re in early pregnancy, do we?” She took another bite of her saltine cracker.
“No, I haven’t told my partner. I’m not going to.”

  “You’re not going to tell the baby’s father?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head with a quick jerk from side to side.“I’m not going to get the guy involved. My grandmother is so old school she’d try to force him to marry me and take responsibility. I’m not getting married right out of high school. There’s no way.”

  “I know your grandmother will be disappointed, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell the guy.”

  She tightened her lips.“My grandmother is going to have a cow. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not telling him. You can’t force me to.”

  Kell rubbed the side of his face, concern spread over it.“Of course not. I can’t force you to do anything, but think about it, okay? I’d like to schedule another appointment in a few weeks.”

  He told her about morning sickness, exhaustion, not to drink alcohol, no marijuana, and gave her a sample of some pre-natal vitamins. After she left, something nagged at him. He shouldn’t have just let her walk away and leave the clinic, but what else could he have done? He couldn’t force her to tell the young man. Kell put his pen in his white jacket, filled out the doctor’s chart, and went for the next patient. Candace’s visit loomed over him the rest of the day.

  Chapter Two

  Moving Day

  Sidney Franklin drove off the ferry in her dark green Mini-Cooper. The car was overflowing with boxes, papers, and clothes she hadn’t trusted the movers to take care of. The day had finally arrived. After six long months of going back and forth, of renovations, of selling her town house, getting the mansion ready, even signing those terrible divorce papers, moving day was here. She let down her window and breathed in fresh island air. The water glistened behind her. Seagulls squawked in the distance, diving down in search of their next meal, dense Evergreen trees lined the exit off the ferry, and when she peeked through the trees she saw the sea off to the left. Traces of sunlight shined through thick branches, leaving a trail of jagged light.

  She drove toward the village, and decided to stop for a quick latte before heading to her house. Smatterings of people lined the streets, bicyclists rode past her, children jumped and tumbled around the grassy area. Tingles ran down her spine. By this time next year, she hoped to be a true local and have made her mark on this small island as a kind innkeeper with good breakfasts. Of course, she’d have to learn how to cook if she wanted to be known for good food.

  Despite her excitement about moving to the island, the sting of her failed marriage lingered. What was God thinking? Sidney had no idea what God was thinking anymore. She forced her dark thoughts to the side. This was an opportunity to start again, to live a new life. She intended to do that.

  She walked toward The Gypsy Cat Café. It seemed like a popular local spot, and perhaps the best place to begin building relationships with the people on the island. After all, this would be home. The café was located in the middle of a wooden boardwalk. On one side of it, was a charming bookstore, and on the other, a barbershop. The town supermarket was across the way, and down the road, on the corner of Main Street, an old Presbyterian church stood erect and foreboding, reminding Sidney that she could try to run away from God, but he’d keep showing up in her life with that dogged tenacity she’d long grown annoyed with. The sparkling sea lapped the coastline off to the side. Sail boats, kayaks, and small fishing boats glided through the water off in the distance.

  A bell chimed above her as she opened the door to the cafe. The woman behind the counter noticed her and gave her a quick nod. She had shoulder length blond hair, with a loose tank top, rings on all her fingers, jewelry hanging off every limb, and a long flowing skirt. She asked Sidney what she’d like.

  “A tall latte,please. Iced.”

  “Coming right up.” The espresso maker hissed in the distance.

  Small round tables were strewn about, and the paintings of seaside landscapes from around the world scattered here and there, captured the Bohemian ambiance to perfection. Sidney handed the woman a five-dollar bill and took the iced latte.“Keep the change.”

  Her bracelets jangled.“Thanks. How long are you staying in town?”

  “I’m here to stay, actually.” Sidney pointed outside.“I’m opening an inn about five miles down the road.”

  The barista raised an eyebrow.“Oh, you’re the woman who inherited Victor Smith’s mansion? I thought I recognized you from somewhere. You’ve been driving back and forth, but haven’t come into the village much.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m Sidney.” She held out her hand. The woman shook it and smiled.

  “We were expecting someone older,” she said.

  Sidney’s light-hearted laugh pierced the air.“I’m not that young.” She took a sip of her latte.

  “You’re still pretty young,” she said. She tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes as if she were trying to decide how old she was.“Well, welcome to Perez.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  “You can count on it,” she said, twiddling her necklace.

  Sidney hurried back to her car. Was there a tinge of irritability in the woman’s voice? She sipped on her coffee. Of course not. This island was known for being friendly. She must have imagined it.

  A few minutes later, Sidney drove into her driveway. The white house with blue shutters, its wrap around porch and newly painted red door filled her with hope.

  The air was laced with the aroma of lush summer flowers and freshly cut wood. It seemed particularly warm for late August. The carpenters meandered about carrying wood doors and new white trim. The wood saw seared through the air, its piercing cry gave her a thrill—the thought of her beautiful home almost finished.

  Now, all she needed to do was decorate the rooms, hire some staff, learn how to cook, and figure out how to get some guests to pay for it all. She hoped to open in late fall, right around Thanksgiving.

  ~

  Sidney wandered the property, trying to give the movers room to unload, but her insides flipped in eager anticipation to get inside. She’d been antique shopping, planning each room with so much excitement she couldn’t wait to get started.

  To the right of the house were a couple of beach cottages—where she figured people came for their summer visits or during the holidays—they certainly didn’t appear to be permanent residences. To her left, however, stood a pale yellow farmhouse with a bicycle, a few baseballs, bats and mitts strewn about in the tall grass. A tire swing hung from a tree, giving the home a look of ordinary life, which seemed quite charming. Even though there were neighbors on each side of her, they all had such substantial yards; they wouldn’t be crossing into each other’s space. She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been aching for privacy—coming from a town house on Queen Anne in Seattle where everyone was underfoot.

  Sidney glanced at her watch. Almost three-thirty. She hoped to talk to the foreman and make sure everything was going according to plan. Turning toward her house, a couple of voices from the house behind her, caught her off guard, and a door slammed in the distance.

  “Aw, Grandpa, can’t I just read tonight? You promised we’d go fishing.”

  “Now son, you know your father made me promise I’d have you read before fishing. He’s worried about you is all.”

  “I hate reading.”

  “See now! That’s just the sort of thing your dad gets flustered about.”

  Sidney smiled at the interaction and hoped to duck out of sight before they saw her, but as she took a step she heard,“Hello! You must be the new neighbor? Victor Smith’s relative.”

  She turned around. An older man and a young boy came toward her.“I am indeed,” she said. Her eyes lit up and she held her hand.“I’m Sidney. Sidney Franklin.”

  The man was tall and balding, with lively eyes set behind black rimmed glasses. He reached out his hand.“I’m Matthew Kellen and this,” he pointed to the boy,“is Jake. He’s my grandson and woul
d much rather go fishing than read his book.”

  Sidney reached for the man’s hand.“Hi Matthew. It’s nice to meet you.” She grinned down at the young boy.“You’ll have to be sure to let me know where the best fishing holes are. I love to fish.”

  His eyes lit up.“You do? I never met a girl who likes to fish.”

  Sidney shrugged.“It was something me and my dad really liked to do. So what book is it you don’t feel like reading?”

  “Just dumb books from the school library.”

  Matt ruffled his hair.“It’s the only way you’ll learn.”

  Sidney questioned herself for a moment. She intended to live a quiet and peaceful life, minding her own business. And yet as an English teacher,she could never let the issue of reading go. She’d always wished someone had gotten a hold of those high school students who hated to read, sooner. It would have made everything much easier.

  She looked directly at Jake.“What’s the part of reading that you hate?” she asked.

  He didn’t pause, almost as if he’d been waiting for someone to ask.“The words get mixed up and it’s boring.”

  She knelt down to get down to his eye level, keenly aware the grandfather was listening.“Get larger print books, go slower, and use a bookmark to put under each line you’re reading, line by line, and pick up something non-fiction.”

  She glanced at the grandfather.“Some boys seem to do better with non-fiction. It’s literal, less abstract. And the other stuff,” she started to say.

  The grandpa interrupted,“The bookmark, line by line, large print. They’re important.”

  “They’re good, but nothing helps like asking him to read at his own level and going slowly. Don’t let him read books that are too difficult for him.”

  He nodded.“Okay. Thank you, Sidney. Looks like the new innkeeper might know a bit more than just hotel management.”

  Sidney’s cheeks warmed. She should have minded her own business and kept her mouth shut.“I better get going,” she said.