Backward Blessings Page 9

  She chuckled and looked away. He made his feet move so he didn't stand there like an idiot admiring her hourglass figure and dusty-tan complexion. She was local no doubt and in a hurry to get home. Maybe she'd had a rough day, too.

  After paying, he left to pump the gas. The art teacher came out a few minutes later with a bag of chips and an apple in her hand. She held them up as she walked past him. "Dinner," she joked, and he nodded.

  On a whim, he put his hands in his pockets and watched her walk around the back of her car. "So, where would one get dinner around here?"

  "In Blessings?"

  He nodded. "Yeah, Blessings. Nice name. Do you live here?"

  The simple question seemed to catch her off guard. She frowned, thought for a second, then said, "I live outside of town."

  "And work at the elementary school," he guessed.

  "Yes." She smiled. "If you need dinner, the Wagon Wheel Diner is probably the best place to grab a quick bite." She left it at that and headed for her car.

  "Thanks," he called.

  The bright blue coup drove away in a cloud of dust with the faint sound of hard rock thumping down the highway. The gas nozzle jerked in Wade's grip. He frowned at his clumsiness and looked for a towel to wipe up the trickle of fuel sliding down the side of his car. The smell of gas permeated the air and drowned out the autumn fragrances of the warm afternoon.

  Perfect. He'd smell like gasoline for hours now. He sighed and glanced up at the sky. The sun had turned a brazen shade of brass. Maybe the B&B listed on the itinerary would be an okay place after all. Blessings seemed nice. He hoped they didn't mind he smelled like a gas pump.

  DARCY LIKED TO RUN in the early mornings when it was quiet and there weren't many people on the park's recreational trail. In the afternoons, couples took their dogs out for walks or families used the paved portions for little bike rides. It interrupted her alone time.

  At school, she threw herself in the children's world, and at home, she had to be there for her mother. Plus, Momma kept the television on all the time watching reruns of old shows with annoying laugh tracks.

  The air felt crispy. Giving her legs a good shake, Darcy set off at a light jog and headed into the trees. There were a few candy wrappers on the ground, and she frowned at the litter. Coming to an abrupt halt, she went back to pick them up. Footsteps sounded, and she moved out of the way for a couple in matching jackets to sprint by. One man raised a hand and she said, "Hi!" but the woman with him ignored her.

  Typical. She'd probably gone to school with them both, but she couldn't remember their names. They certainly hadn't forgotten her. She waited a few seconds to let them get ahead and then set off again with the candy wrappers in her pocket. There'd probably been all kinds of mischief out at the park last weekend.

  Darcy couldn't believe Halloween was over. The buildup to it had been so much fun at school, but she'd spent the holiday hiding at home and let her mother give out candy. Their memories of past Halloweens in Blessings weren't the best. They were a distant blur of loud parties, stupid choices, and often painful consequences.

  Had she really egged homes and rolled the principal's house then covered his car in shaving cream? It was harmless, she thought, but she wasn't really thinking clearly at seventeen.

  Picking up speed, she stretched her neck and took a deep, cleansing breath. The pounding of her feet made a hypnotic sound that urged her forward. The sky was lightening from a shade of pink to yellow-gold. Soon it would be blue. She closed her eyes and pictured the colors on a palette if she were to paint this moment.

  Slamming footfalls echoed again, and Darcy moved aside. Someone came upon her, fast and running full speed. She looked over her shoulder in case she was under attack, but it was a runner in shorts and a white tee shirt. He had a phone attached to his upper arm with wires that led up to the sides of his ears and looked like he was in a trance.

  Darcy jogged to a stop and let the speed demon dash past. "Show off," she muttered as he whizzed by. Something about him looked familiar, and he must have thought the same thing about her, because he tripped over a root sticking out of a crack in the concrete and went airborne. Darcy watched in horror as he hit a knee and then rolled across the trail into the bushes.

  "Oooh!" cried Darcy. Her heart went out to him. He was built like a runner and certainly dressed the part, but he didn't fall with style. She would have laughed at his comical cartwheel, but she knew the pain of flesh skidding across concrete. With gritted teeth, she rushed over to the man sprawled out on his back. His face looked pale and twisted with pain.

  "Oh. My. Goodness. Are you okay?"

  His limbs all seemed to be in order, but blood trickled down his shin. He moaned.

  "Are you hurt?"

  The runner opened his eyes, and she realized he wasn't someone from town. The dark blond hair, a little long and messy on top, was the same hair, and it was definitely the same jawline she'd noticed yesterday at the gas station. It was the visitor who didn't know what side of the gas pumps to line up on.

  He studied her then in slow motion tried to sit up. A groan erupted from his mouth. "What did I trip over? You?"

  "Me?" Darcy sat back on her heels. "No, it wasn't me. I was out of your way. See? She pointed toward the raised crack in the trail. "You tripped over that. There are bumps all the way down this trail. You can't run at breakneck speed like that." She raised her brows at him for punctuation.

  "Hey," he drawled out. "Dale Earnhardt." He glanced down at his muscular, bleeding leg and drew it up to him. "I know you."

  "What?"

  "You know the race car driver?"

  "I'm not a race car driver. If you're talking about yesterday at the gas station, you were going the wrong way."

  He blinked at her then looked down at his battle wounds. "That really hurt."

  "I bet." Darcy tried to smother a small laugh, but it came out anyway. "I haven't seen anyone get that much air since my neighbor tried to skateboard over a lawnmower."

  The man laughed. "Well, you're right. I'm not exactly known for my grace."

  "I'm sorry I don't have a tissue."

  "It's okay," he said in a thick voice. He scooted onto the side of the paved trail. Darcy sat down beside him. "I have a sock but it's a little sweaty."

  He looked at her in surprise.

  "I'm kidding." She giggled. "I'm sorry, it's not funny."

  "No," he said smiling, "it's not. It does hurt, and guess what, Earnhardt, I have a bandage."

  Darcy raised a brow. "You carry bandages while you run?"

  "I like to be prepared." He took off the Velcro phone holder around his arm and frowned at the phone case.

  "Did you crack your phone?"

  "It's chipped," he sighed. He pulled a bandage from between the phone and its sleeve.

  Side by side, she realized he had nice eyes, blue, not brilliant but not gray or hazy either. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to almost hit you head-on," she blurted. "It's just everyone pulls in from the right, not the left, unless they're new to town."

  "I'm just visiting awhile," he replied. Patting the bandage on, he held out a red, scraped palm. "Wade Spears."

  Darcy took it gently. "You hurt your hand, and I'm Darcy Malone."

  "Malone?"

  "Yes, that's right."

  The man's brows furrowed. "That sounds familiar. I'm researching the history of this town, the Santa Fe Trail era anyway, and it sounds like I've heard it before."

  "The Santa Fe trail?" Darcy climbed up beside him as he stood. "Yes, my great-great- grandparents moved here before the turn of the century. I'm sure they were around."

  "Ah," he said.

  Darcy felt relieved he hadn't heard her name through other channels. "Are you a history buff or something?"

  He nodded. "I'm a history professor, and I'm writing a book. I thought I'd stay here a few weeks to research the area in person."

  "Wow, that's nice—travel the world, write a book. You must not have a
ny cares in the world."

  He narrowed his eyes at her like he disagreed but didn't elaborate. Something in them sparked questions. He studied her like she was an open book. She realized they stood face to face in the middle of the trail so she edged back to the side. "There's a lot of good information around here, and there's a historical society a couple of blocks south of Town Hall.

  "Thanks." Wade smiled at her. It lit up his face and erased the critical stare she'd seen yesterday.

  Darcy looked down the trail. "I better go, I can hardly get to school on time on a good day."

  "You do that, and it was nice to meet you."

  "You, too." He switched his stance back and forth on his legs, and she wondered if he was in pain.

  "Would you like me to walk you back to your car?"

  "I'm fine. I'll just walk from here."

  "Okay, then. Darcy smiled again remembering the way he'd tumbled out of control across her path. Realizing he still intended to keep going her direction, she pointed back toward the parking lot. "I think you better go that way, and by the way, you're bleeding again."

  Brushstrokes and Blessings

  Blessings of Love Series Book 1

  Purchase the first book in the Blessings of Love Series on Amazon!

  Acknowledgments

  EVERY BOOK IS A LABOR of love which requires a community to bring into existence. I’d like to thank Jessica Elliott, Danielle Thorne, Rachael Eliker, Lacy Andersen, and J.J. DiBenedetto for their support, encouragement, and collaboration. It has been invaluable in creating, developing and enjoying this story.

  Additionally, I would like to thank my writing partner, Carollyne Lairie, for being my cheerleader as I finished up this project.

  As with any creative endeavor, I have to thank my family for picking up the slack when I had to meet my deadlines, for reminding me that I had an important story to tell, and for dropping anything to hear what tidbit of story I was willing to share!

  Most of all, I need to thank my grandmother, Arlene Madsen, whose tears of laughter told me that the story was headed in the right direction.

  Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

  Like Logan, pumpkin chocolate chip cookies are one of my favorite fall treats. In fact, I had to whip up a batch of them when I was working on this story since summer is a hard time of year to imagine Thanksgiving! I found that they’re the perfect treat to snack on while you enjoy any of the Blessings of Love books!

  Adapted from the Nestle pumpkin chocolate chip cookie recipe.

  PUMPKIN CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

  PREP TIME 25 MINUTES

  COOKING TIME 10 MINUTES

  SKILL LEVEL EASY

  MAKES 36 COOKIES

  INGREDIENTS

  2 cups all-purpose flour

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  1 teaspoon salt

  1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, room temperature

  1/2 cup brown sugar

  3/4 cup granulated sugar

  3/4 cup LIBBY'S® 100% Pure Pumpkin (I usually bump that up to a full cup. You might need to add a little more flour or cook them a little longer, but it’s got a better pumpkin flavor!)

  1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

  1 large egg

  1 tablespoon cinnamon (to taste)

  1 teaspoon nutmeg (to taste)

  1 teaspoon cloves (to taste)

  1 teaspoon ginger (to taste)

  2 cups (12-oz. pkg.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels

  INSTRUCTIONS

  PREHEAT oven to 375° F.

  COMBINE flour, baking soda and salt in medium bowl. Beat butter, brown sugar, granulated sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger in large mixer bowl with electric mixer on medium until well blended. Add pumpkin, egg and vanilla extract. Mix on low until combined. Stir in flour mixture. Batter will be soft. Fold in morsels. Drop by tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets about 2 inches apart.

  BAKE for 10 to 12 minutes or until edges are firm. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely. Store in airtight container.

  About the Author

  One of Rachel Andersen's favorite memories in college was when a music theory professor turned one of her exams back to her. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, “I can always tell that it’s your paper because you have a story written on the back.” She was just killing time after the ear training and aural skills portions of the test (where he played notes and the students were to write down the interval or melody), but it hinted at a larger love. She loves stories! She loves reading them, she loves hearing them, she loves telling them, and she loves living them!

  Growing up as the oldest of nine children, she used stories to make mundane (and sometimes disgusting) tasks fly by like when she quoted Disney movies for her youngest siblings while she changed diapers or got them dressed. Though the youngest sibling is a senior in high school, the quotes she pulled out of thin air are used as family jokes that rock the house with laughter.

  Stories propelled her through difficult days in college. They sustained her through the stress of student teaching. They were her favorite time of day in elementary and early childhood classrooms.

  Her only hope is that these stories bring you as much joy and pleasure as they bring her!

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