Предназначение. Книга 1. Часть 2. Андрей Сидоров

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Предназначение. Книга 1. Часть 2 - Андрей Сидоров Маршальский жезл

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slid the chair beneath her and studied her a moment, his dark blue eyes gliding across her features and causing unfamiliar sensations to roll through her belly. “Problems?”

      The single word caught her unguarded. “Not really. I was...I was trying to recall where I’d heard the phrase beauty from ashes.”

      “Scripture.” He sat beside her as other attendants ambled to the bridal table. “I’m not good at telling you where in the Bible.” He shrugged. “But I know it’s there.”

      “Thanks.” He’d impressed her, and what he’d said made sense. Only God could take ashes and make them beautiful. Sometimes she thought about church and faith, realizing life would have been different if she’d had something...someone to lean on. Clint had strength to lift a tree. Definitely strong enough to lean on. Still, he wasn’t God.

      “I’m guessing there’s more on your mind.”

      Her head snapped upward, nearly giving her whiplash. He’d shifted the chair toward her, and in her preoccupation, she hadn’t noticed.

      “I didn’t mean to impinge on your thoughts. Sometimes I can’t stop myself from probing.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “I suppose that’s the firefighter in me. We need the facts. Details. Saving property and lives need quick thinking.”

      “But I don’t need rescuing, so you don’t need facts.” She managed a smile.

      He shrugged. “Most of us do at one time or another.”

      “I guess we all like details. Tell me about you.” Her knack for reversing the conversation gave her control, and she could avoid talking about herself.

      “Firefighter...but then you know that. Single.” He held up his left hand and spread his fingers.

      No ring, but she’d known that. “How have you escaped so many women looking for a husband?” Instead of a smile at her teasing comment, he couldn’t hide his frown before managing a grin.

      “Lucky, I guess.”

      Cover. She’d used the same technique. She turned in the chair, her knees brushing his. “You’re kidding, I know.”

      He gave her a crooked grin and shrugged, but his eyes probed hers a moment before he looked away. “Truth is I was engaged once, but it ended before the wedding. I’m glad, since I don’t believe in divorce.”

      The statement reminded her of her earlier thoughts in the church. How could two people promise a lifetime of love and faithfulness when so much of the world didn’t seem to value it at all? “That’s your religious belief?”

      “Yes and no. It’s biblical, but it’s also a gut feeling. I’d only marry if I knew deep in my soul this person loved me with all her heart, and she trusted that I felt the same. Too many things change in life, and I don’t think marriage should be one of them. We need to hang on to a few constants. Faith is one of those I cling to.”

      The word cling gave her pause. Her faith fluctuated from one day to the next. “You’re lucky.”

      “I’m blessed.” A frown slipped to his face. “Are you saying you’re not a believer?”

      His expression made her reluctant to speak. “I wasn’t raised in any faith.”

      Instead of drawing back, he eased forward, as if longing to ask about her beliefs, but silverware tinkled against china and glass, and Paula turned to see what caused the commotion. She spotted Devon leaning forward to kiss Ashley as the guests cheered and tittered. She’d forgotten that old kiss-the-bride tradition.

      Toasts to the bride and the table blessing ended and, grateful for the break in conversation, Paula eased back in the chair as the waitstaff delivered food to the table and the meal began. Conversation buzzed through the room, and though she and Clint talked, the topics were general and unimportant. The issue of faith seemed to hover above them.

      As dishes were cleared, the music began. Clint rose and extended his hand. “Care to dance?”

      She hadn’t danced in years and the idea of being in a man’s arms—Clint’s arms—appealed to her. Yet again the question rose. Did he feel obliged to dance with her? Despite her questions, she followed him to the dance floor, her own longing taking precedence. The swish of the silky fabric against her legs awoke her feminine self, a persona she’d ignored the past few years.

      On the dance floor, he pulled her close, his arms holding her fast yet with a tenderness that eased her. He glided effortlessly, their feet moving in sync, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music, a love song that fit the occasion. Others had joined them, and Paula felt less conspicuous. The closeness to Clint filled her with longing, the desire to go back in time and relive her life differently.

      She recognized a good man when she saw one, and Clint fit the image. Her thoughts turned to Ashley and Devon’s marriage, a day of joy and happiness for two people she hoped would enjoy a forever life together. Though Vic had dampened her dream for a while, she felt a determination to move forward. The new environment, new friends, new experiences gave her the opportunity to find happiness.

      When she looked up, Clint was studying her, his beguiling eyes engrossed as he observed her. Beneath her hand, his powerful frame reflected not only his physical strength but his solid character. He would make a wonderful husband for someone. Her pulse tripped, sending her mind into unfamiliar places.

      As Devon and Ashley twirled past, he caught Clint’s attention, and when the song ended, Clint guided her to their table. “I’ll be back in a moment. I think the groom wants me for something.” He tilted his head toward Devon and hurried off.

      The intrusion caused her to wonder what was up, but a few moments later, Ashley broke away from her task of greeting people and slipped to her side. Ashley sent her a coy grin as she sank into the empty chair. “You and Clint seem to be getting along very well.”

      Paula’s heart skipped again, and she struggled to keep color from rising to her cheeks. “He’s being a gentleman. I think he knows I’m a stranger here...even among relatives. I haven’t seen these people in years, and they don’t really know me.”

      Ashley rested her hand on Paula’s. “I think it’s more than that.” Her grin needed no words. “But Clint is a gentleman. That’s for sure.”

      “What do you mean by ‘more than that’?” Although she understood, she wanted to hear what Ashley had to say.

      “He finds you enjoyable company. That’s what I see.” Hope lit Ashley’s face.

      “He makes me laugh. Nothing seemed funny while I cared for my mother.” She pictured the pain her mother had suffered. It didn’t leave room for frivolity. “It’s been a long time since my life has seemed...” Words escaped her, and she delved into her vocabulary to find the right way to explain. “Normal, I guess.”

      “It’s nice to see both you and Clint comfortable with each other.” Ashley shook her head, a nostalgic look washing over her face. “Did I ever tell you when I met Clint?”

      She shook her head, anxious to hear something new about him.

      “When I was pinned under the tree, Devon stood over me with Joey in his arms, but another

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