Free Project Love (Cascade Brides Series) by Bonnie Blythe Page A

Charity
followed close behind.
    A small, frail woman sat on the bed staring at the wall.
She wore a pink housecoat and slippers. Her white hair was sparse and
barely covered a scalp dotted with age spots.
    Daniel pulled two chairs close to the edge of the bed
and sat down in one. “Miss Evelyn, I'd like you to meet my friend,
Charity.”
    At the sound of his voice, the woman turned her head
slightly, but no spark of recognition came to her eyes. She simply
held out her hand. Daniel took hold of her hand, pressing it between
both of his. Charity sat down in the second chair and attempted to
maintain a smile on her face.
    Daniel had tried to prepare her in the car on the way
over.
    She's not blind, Charity, but it's like she doesn't
see anything. There may be emotional damage.
    I just hold her hand. For an hour or so.
    She never speaks. Sometimes I don't either. But
sometimes I tell her little things about my life.
    I don't think she cares whether I talk or not. She
just needs someone to hold her hand . That's all .
    Charity watched as a gamut of emotions worked their way
across his face. There was something more, something he hadn't told
her. If he'd been coming to do this every week for six months, there
should be some measure of ease. But a muscle worked in his jaw as he
stared at her. He stared as if he willed her to offer him something
in return.
    She'd asked what he knew about the woman, but the nurses
only said she'd been abandoned by her family and didn't respond to
much stimuli of any kind.
    Who abandons their—? But before the thought completed, Charity knew she'd left her sisters
behind. Granted they weren't old or infirm—at least she assumed
they weren't. How terrible if one needed help and she didn't know
about it.
    Guilt for wanting to remain anonymous assailed her. And
yet, if she received another phone call, would she answer it?
    I just don't know .
    Blinking away a sheen
of moisture, Charity focused on a watercolor painting on the opposite
wall and wondered how soon they could leave. I don't like
it here.
    I don't like it here at all.

    ***

    Ninety minutes later, Daniel studied Charity's face as
they exited the building. However, her schooled expression gave
nothing away. He wished he had the same self-control. Every week he
walked out of the care home feeling wrecked and no closer to a peace
that proved elusive.
    He cleared his throat. When Charity looked up at him, he
said, “Do you mind if we go for a walk? It's not raining, and I
usually need to walk for a while after...”
    She nodded.
    Daniel held out his hand, needing the contact more than
he wanted to admit—even after his time with Evelyn. Charity paused
for the barest moment before slipping her hand within his. The moment
she touched him, a portion of his angst eased as somehow he knew it
would.
    He led her down the sidewalk in front of the facility,
keeping his eyes from the windows. Instead he looked down at Charity,
noting the way her lashes fanned out over her cheeks. What was she
thinking about? Him? His strange obsession with an unrelated woman in
a care home?
    As they walked several blocks in silence, Daniel felt he
owed more of an explanation to Charity. At the same time, he wanted
her to like him. Not as a church buddy. But something much more.
    We've gone to church together twice. Not even on a
real date. We've eaten together twice, but does that count? What
about when she came to my office with the coffee? Where are we at in
this relationship, if we have one at all? And at what point does one
dump details about one's pathetic past?
    He knew from experience
that over-sharing was a death knell to a fledgling relationship. I
don't want to mess this up with Charity. I need guidance, Lord .
An overwhelming urge to share ate at him. Would he scare her away?
    It has to be her decision .
He knew that in his heart, whether or not she decided to stick
around. “I bet you're thinking there's more to these Sunday
appointments.”
    Her dark eyes