A Hickory Ridge Christmas. Dana CorbitЧитать онлайн книгу.
gaze settled on Todd, and a smile pulled at his lips. Of course, Andrew had been expecting to see him there. Todd should have known that he hadn’t fooled anyone with his veiled questions when he’d called the church office a few days before. Especially not Andrew Westin. The Harley-riding youth minister never had struck Todd as any kind of fool.
As if Andrew recognized the question in Todd’s eyes, he turned his head and directed his gaze toward a group of young adults sitting on the second pew. A couple of people on one end, a fancily dressed middle-aged woman on the other, and there she sat in the middle.
Todd didn’t know if the world stopped turning or if time hiccuped, but for a few seconds or minutes, everything beyond her ceased to exist.
Even from behind that crowd of blondes, brunettes and silver-haired ladies, he couldn’t imagine how he’d missed her before. He should have recognized that long, light blond ponytail anywhere, as it flowed down the back of her simple peach sweater. Hannah had often worn her hair just that way—smooth, neat and without fuss—and it was the feminine style he still found most attractive.
A piano introduction pulled Todd from his daze, but he couldn’t wrap his thoughts around the words or the message of the second hymn. It shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d always had tunnel vision when it came to Hannah, and that apparently hadn’t changed. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t love her, and he couldn’t imagine a future when he would be able to or even want to stop.
Around Hannah, Todd studied the group of young adults in her row and the one behind it, but none of them looked familiar. A tall, light-haired guy shared a hymnal with Hannah, but Todd couldn’t remember seeing him, either, during his handful of visits. A few people were paying attention to the hymn, anyway. Todd was far too busy craning his neck and trying to get a glimpse of Hannah’s face.
When the song ended, Reverend Bob Woods, who had grayed the last few years and now wore glasses, stepped to the lectern. He scanned the congregation, hesitating only briefly when he reached Todd. The minister’s expression didn’t change, but his Adam’s apple bobbed. Guilt had Todd shifting in his seat.
Just because Hannah’s father recognized him didn’t automatically mean she’d confided in him about humiliating past events. Todd hadn’t changed that much since they were next-door neighbors—at least, not on the outside. Anyway, it couldn’t make any difference what Reverend Bob or Andrew Westin or anyone else knew about mistakes they’d made when they were still teenagers. He was here to make amends no matter what.
For a few seconds, the minister bowed his head as if in prayer, and then he looked up and smiled. “I’d like to add my welcome to Andrew’s. We’re so glad you’re here. Whether you’re longtime members or looking for a new church home, we’re setting out the welcome mat.”
Todd blinked. The minister probably offered that same greeting every Sunday, but this invitation felt more personal than that. For the first time since he’d pulled his car into the church parking lot and prepared for his past to collide with his present, he felt his confidence returning.
He did his best to focus on worship as Reverend Bob delivered a message on the birth of John the Baptist, that had taken place just prior to Jesus’s birth, but no matter how hard Todd tried, he couldn’t keep his attention from returning to Hannah. He’d waited so long to see her, had imagined this moment for what felt like forever, and here he was waiting again.
Please give me patience, Lord, and give me the words to make things right. Amen.
Hannah turned so that her lovely profile came into view. Her skin still looked as soft as he remembered, but the sprinkling of freckles across her nose appeared to have faded with time. Had her dimples, the tiny ones that only appeared when she really smiled, deepened as she’d entered her twenties? Did her eyes still crinkle at the corners when she laughed? Did those same eyes flood with tears whenever she spoke of her mother?
She tilted her head, appearing engrossed in her father’s sermon. Todd hoped she’d had many reasons to smile and to laugh in the years since he’d left. More than anything, he wanted happiness for Hannah, who’d already known so much pain.
If only he could have been a better friend to her, could have provided a strong shoulder and a listening ear, instead of allowing his comforting touch to become something more. No, he hadn’t been alone in that bed or alone in his decision to seek passion over purity, but he couldn’t help believing he was more responsible than she was. He’d known how fragile Hannah was even so many months after her mom’s death. Only one of them had been in any emotional state to put on the brakes in their relationship, and he’d ignored thoughts of sin and regret and gave into temptation anyway.
He’d known a lot of regret since then.
With effort, Todd set aside the emotions that threatened to distance him from his purpose. He glanced up at her again just as the congregation was singing the last chorus. The blond guy leaned close to Hannah and whispered something in her ear, and though she put her finger to her lips to hush him, her dimples appeared as she chuckled.
Todd’s stomach tightened, and for the first time he gave the guy standing next to Hannah more than a passing glance. He’d worked so hard and had planned his return from overseas so carefully. Earning his engineering degree from Nanyang Technological University, targeting his job search to test engineering positions at General Motors Proving Grounds—everything—had been part of this long-term plan to work his way back to her.
He’d thought he’d looked at every obstacle. Clearly, he’d missed a huge one by never considering that Hannah might have dated other guys or even have found someone special in the last five years. Any man would have been crazy not to recognize Hannah for the amazing person she was and consider himself blessed to be with her.
The thought that Hannah might have dated others tore at his heart though he had no right to feel that way. Just because there had never been anyone else for him didn’t mean she’d felt the same way.
What was he supposed to do now? No. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He’d returned to Milford for two reasons only: to apologize to Hannah and to earn her forgiveness. Okay, he’d had secret hopes of building a life with Hannah, but he should have learned by now that he wasn’t the type of guy meant for happy endings. Still, he was the type of guy who, just this once, would do the right thing no matter what it cost him.
By the time that Todd returned his attention to the front of the church, Andrew had stepped forward to pronounce the benediction.
“Father, lead us as we go out into Your world. Teach us to really love as You love and to forgive as You forgive. In the name of Your Son. Amen.” After the prayer, Andrew ascended the aisle, waving at Todd as he passed.
Suddenly, a few things made sense. Was that what Andrew had really meant when he’d said some of the people Todd might know from the youth group had moved away? Had Andrew been referring to Hannah moving on with her life…without him?
Todd steeled himself again. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t let it matter. He’d waited an awfully long time and gone to more trouble than most men would ever consider to give this apology. Nothing, not even his owns fears, could stop him from doing what he had to do.
With resolve, he looked to the front of the sanctuary, past the other congregants who were chatting and gathering their coats. At first, he thought he’d missed her and that she’d left by one of the side aisle doors. Some of the people she’d been sitting with, including the blond guy, were already gone. But then she straightened from where she’d bent to retrieve her Bible.
Hannah turned her head to say something to the woman next to her, and then she stopped. He knew the minute she recognized him because her eyes widened, and her lovely mouth went slack.
For several seconds, neither moved. Todd felt like a spectator to his own life, unable to look away while the one woman he’d ever loved stared back at him as if he was the last person she ever expected to see again. Or maybe ever wanted to see.
As the Bible she held slipped from her fingers, its pages fluttering