Page 59 of I Knew You
I hung up the phone and texted Hunter.
Me: It’s a date! Can you pick me up at the Mill Creek senior citizen building at 7?
Hunter: Hmm. Strange meeting spot, but I’ll be there :)
Later,Bram pulled into the farmhouse driveway as I was talking to Kallie.
“Do I still need to come up and help after the surgery, or is your husband caring for you?” I’d explained to her a couple of days ago why I was marrying Bram, but she hadn’t quit with the sarcasm.
“Be nice,” I scolded. “Of course, you’re coming. I’ll go back to Grams’ house, and we can stay there in peace.”
“What will Bram think about that?”
I knew from context clues that Bram was assuming I would stay with him after the surgery. He’d even said I could have a bedroom downstairs. All afternoon, I’d mulled over how to tell him that Kallie was still coming to look after me. I didn’t want him to watch me struggle in the aftermath. There were some things an attractive man was not meant to see, and potentially soiling herself or having to be sponge-bathed were two of them.
“I don’t know, but he’s going to have to accept it,” I snapped in reply to my best friend. “I gotta go. I’ll text you later.”
Bram walked in through the back door, boots hard against the utility room floor. Lakey ran to meet him, and I stood from the couch, heart pounding as he neared. He rounded the corner, wearing a ball cap and his forest-green ranger uniform. It fit every inch of him to perfection.
Damn, he is so hot.
“I’m ready,” I sheepishly said.
“You look so beautiful.” He looked me up and down with a subdued, genuine smile.
“Thank you, it’s an old sundress I had,” I said, smoothing down the crisp blue fabric. I reached down and grabbed my jean jacket from the sofa.
He walked up to me then, stopping an arm’s length away.
“It’s not about the dress. It’s about you.” His hand brushedmy slightly curled hair off my shoulder, and goose bumps erupted on my arms.
“Oh. Thanks.”
I couldn’t stop staring into Bram’s eyes. They were so warm and intense with emotion.
“It’ll be a good night, sweets.”
“I think so.”
His smile fell, and although I had no way of knowing for sure, I sensed a negative wave of energy coming from him. He recovered quickly, and his eyes softened. “Okay, let’s go do some behind-the-scenes good.”
We pulled into the worn, paved parking lot of the Senior Citizens’ Community Building, which was already full of vehicles. Old, young, well-dressed, and work-worn people milled about outside the door. Kids of all ages played around the basketball hoop behind the building.
“This is a big production,” I remarked.
Bram smiled wryly.
“It’s a great achievement. Mountain people are proud and don’t take kindly to handouts. When I started volunteering with MCA, several people told me behind closed doors that so-and-so’s family didn’t have any food and that the kids were going hungry. That’s why we created a community dinner. Everyone comes, people of all kinds. Those who need to pick up necessities and get a hot meal are more likely to do so because the scrutiny is low and there is diversity. There are still holdouts, but one family stocked and fed is better than none, you know?”
I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “What a great idea. Do you feed lots of kids?”
“Oh yeah,” he replied, turning into an empty parking spot in the back. “We have about 250 people total every Friday night, and lots of them are kids.”
“That’s amazing,” I said on a breath, taken aback. “Who cooks?”
“Volunteers. Generally, it’s older ladies who used to work in the school cafeteria,” he said, putting the truck in park. “They spend all day cooking. We also give out canned and dry goods, toiletries, and bottled water every Friday. Some of these people I’ve found only have the spring or well water at their homes, and sometimes it doesn’t run clear, so drinking water is a hot commodity.”
I was speechless. I looked at the man beside me and studied him quietly for a moment. His ball cap framed his angular jaw and the slight stubble on his face. The long-sleeved black tee hugged his muscular arms and broad shoulders just right. His hands, worn by hard work and time, gripped the steering wheel. He looked like a regular guy, although ruggedly handsome. No one would suspect he had come from money. No one would think he had a heart that beat to help others.
