Hart's Harbor. Deb Kastner
felt her jaw drop, and she found herself doing something she hadn’t done much of late—praying. Praying to God for guidance, for words of wisdom to give this dear friend. Because Gracie’s own words, her own realm of experience would be nowhere near enough. She didn’t have the words to say.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing. “I know what my eyes see,” Gracie said at last.
“And that is…”
“You like Nathan. The relationship you have with Chief Creasy is— Well, I’ll let you and Chief Creasy work that out. But don’t deny your heart, Constance.”
She took a breath and laid a comforting hand on her friend’s arm. “My head is all awhirl today with talk of bachelors and babies and one’s true love. But I do know this. God is in charge of it all. And even though it seems really confusing to you and me, He’s got it all going around the way He wants. And in the end, it all boils down to what’s in your heart.”
Tears glistened in Constance’s eyes, which shone like jewels against the pale skin of her cheeks. Gracie felt a new rush of emotion for her friend, and threw her arms around her in a big hug.
“Gracie, dear heart,” Constance said, hugging her back, “those are wise words for one so young. I do believe I’ll take you up on them. I’ve been sitting on the sidelines for too long.”
Gracie hardly thought she’d been sitting on any sidelines. Constance had not been the type of woman to tuck herself away and grieve for what she’d lost. She’d put her loss to good use, to helping others. She’d started foundations and charities, and even this Women’s League itself.
But Gracie supposed there was love.
“I’m terrified,” Constance continued, “but I know when I need to look a challenge in the eye. And I will. It’s you I’m wondering about.”
“Me?”
“I want you to promise me one thing, young lady, before you leave here today.”
“What’s that?” she asked, feeling at the moment like she could promise the world. It was the least she could do after seeing the bravery of her own friend.
“Promise me you’ll take your own advice. When the time comes for you to love, and it soon will be, don’t be afraid to follow your heart.”
“You’re scaring me.”
Constance merely grinned.
“Anyone for cake?” Gracie was surprised by the deep, familiar baritone. It wasn’t Robert McGuire brandishing the bakery cake. What in the world was Kyle Hart doing at a women’s meeting?
His gaze met hers as she stood and whirled away from where he was. Panic set in as her instinct told her to put as much distance between herself and the good doctor as possible. But Constance was trailing her, and she knew there wasn’t much chance of that.
“Robert needed to see a patient at the clinic and asked me to deliver it for him,” she heard him explain to the crowd. “I hope I’m not too late for the party. I couldn’t get away until now.”
“You’re right on time, Kyle,” Wendy assured him. “And you must stay and join us for a piece of cake.”
Constance grabbed Gracie by the arm and pulled her toward Kyle. Gracie dug her heels in, but it was no use fighting against her determined friend.
“Dr. Kyle! You’re looking particularly handsome this afternoon,” Constance crooned. “What a lovely suit you’re wearing.” She greeted him with a friendly kiss on the cheek.
Kyle chuckled, but it was clear to Gracie that he was uncomfortable with Constance’s blatant perusal and adamant praise. He cleared his throat, then pulled at his collar and conspicuously loosened his tie. “Uh, thank you. I think.”
He cleared his throat. Again.
The man was shy!
Gracie’s eyebrows shot through her bangs. Who would have known?
Here he razzed her to death without the least care in the world, and yet when he was teased, he hemmed and hawed around with Constance like a regular retiring Southern gentleman.
Gracie couldn’t hold back her smile. Especially when Constance grabbed at the tie Kyle was loosening and made him turn all red in the face.
At least Kyle didn’t have Chelsea to contend with. She wasn’t much for spiritual things and didn’t think boring meetings with what she considered a bunch of old ladies were worth her time.
“The thing is, Dr. Kyle…” Constance pulled at the end of the silk tie, making it snug once again against Kyle’s neck. Gracie could see the muscles in his skin vibrate as he swallowed hard. “The thing is…this weekend is Memorial Day Weekend.”
Kyle nodded.
“You’ll be here.”
Kyle nodded again.
“And we’ll be here.” Constance leaned in for the kill. “And guess what? You’re going to have the wonderful privilege of helping out the underprivileged this weekend.”
“Don’t you just love her way with words?” Gracie quipped, holding back a laugh.
Kyle, of course, looked totally confounded, as well he should. Constance was leading him like a bull by the nose, and with good reason. The poor man didn’t stand a chance against her.
But even Constance couldn’t just go up to a man like Kyle and ask him to—
Well, it sounded pretty ludicrous, even to Gracie, and she’d been participating in the bachelor’s block since she’d been old enough to hold a box of chocolates in her hand or make a winning bid.
“It involves chocolate,” Constance was saying. “And charity.”
Kyle nodded politely. “I’m happy to help, ma’am,” he said with his cute little Texas drawl. “Just tell me what needs doing, and I’m on it.”
Gracie choked on a sip of punch. “Actually, hon, you are it.”
His gaze fixed sharply with her own. “I beg your pardon?”
“What Constance is trying in her roundabout way to say is that Uncle Sam wants you for the Memorial Day bachelor’s block auction, Monday morning at ten o’clock sharp at the gazebo in the park.”
“The what? For whom?” he sputtered. His jaw dropped, and he looked from woman to woman as if they’d both lost their minds.
Fortunately, she and Constance were both enjoying the moment far too much to take his looks seriously. His adorable confusion and muddled expression was worth a thousand words.
“Not Uncle Sam, precisely,” Constance clarified with a chuckle. “We’re making money for the Safe Harbor Family Practice Mercy Fund. For the poor in Safe Harbor who are without medical insurance. These are people, primarily women and children, who would go without medical aid were it not for this fund.”
“I know what the Mercy Fund is for,” he said dryly. “I work with these people on a daily basis. Robert and Gracie introduced me.”
“Good,” Constance said with a relieved smile. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind helping out.”
“What I mind is auctioning myself off like a piece of—meat,” he said with a groan, shoving his fingers through his hair. He winked at Gracie. “I’m just not that kind of man.”
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that,” Constance assured him. “Nothing sordid you’ll be ashamed to be a part of.”
“Is that so?” he drawled, sounding not at all convinced.
“Remember, Doctor, Safe Harbor is a small town. We’re dignified and fun-loving. All you have to do is to show up and bring a box of chocolates. We’ll