If You Believe

She paused, pulled from the dream by the quiet noise. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. " His voice sounded thick, embarrassed. "It felt . . . good. "

Mariah started to smile. "Oh. " Slowly she combed his knotted hair and massaged his scalp with her fingers. Then, biting her lower lip, she began to cut along his collar.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

She tried to think of something to say to him, but it had been years since shed made small talk, and never with a young man. It was suddenly important that he like her; she didnt want to say the wrong thing and ruin everything.

He was like her, she could tell. Alone and lonely and afraid. She wanted desperately to connect with him, to forge some kind of a friendship, but she didnt know how.

For many years shed been unconnected to people, a loner. She had no idea how to change that.

"Jake . . . " She said his name softly, unaware even that shed spoken until he answered.

"Uh-huh?"

She froze, trying to think of something to say now that shed started. "I . . . uh . . .

notice theres a rip in your shirt. I could sew it for you. "

"Id really appreciate that, Miss . . . Mariah. Thanks. "

She felt a surprising rush of relief. It was a beginning, anyway. More of one than shed made in years. "Good. "

His body relaxed, lost some of it rigid stiffness. "Im not too good with a needle and thread. " His voice was soft and quiet, almost casual. And she thought perhaps hed smiled.

Yes, she thought in amazement, its a beginning. For both of us.

Chapter Thirteen

Marian stirred the thick, bubbling oatmeal and stared out the window, watching dawn creep through the orchard in a rising curtain of rose-gold light. She tried to tell herself that she wasnt looking for anything—or anyone—in particular. But her gaze kept veering toward the creek.

"Is this enough ham?" Jake asked, turning expectantly toward her.

She glanced at him and smiled. He stood beside her, carefully slicing ham on the slopstone. He looked like a different boy than he had just half an hour ago. Hed taken a bath, and his shorter newly washed hair shone like a copper penny in the early morning light.

Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. For a second, just that, she felt as if he belonged here. As if maybe hed even stay. She swallowed a lump of emotion and nodded at him. "Thats just right, Jake. Thanks. "

"You want me to put it in the frying pan?"

"Sure. " She sidled away from him, making room.

He scraped a scoop of bit-studded leftover lard from the battered blue speckled tin and slapped it in the hot pan. The gray-white smear slid across the pan in a hissing trail.

"You helped your mother cook, didnt you?"

Jake looked up at her. Their eyes met, and in the green depths she saw a heartbreaking sorrow. "Yeah. "

Mariah wet her lips and smiled down at him, feeling a sharp sting in the region of her heart. This time she did reach out and brush the hair from his eyes. "Shes a lucky woman to have a son like you. "

He started to say something, but before he could get a word out, the front door opened.

Jake gasped and jerked back. His eyes rounded. "Mad Dogs here. "

Mariahs heart lurched, her breathing sped up. Anxiously she glanced at the doorway. "Go on and sit down, Jake. I can finish it from here. "

"Okay. " He grabbed his lukewarm cup of coffee and hurried back to his chair.