Mrs. Miracle Page 0,29

sounds humdrum, almost silly. After I buried her, I couldn't look at the piano any longer. Playing it again was intolerable, and soon after the funeral I sold it. Having it out of the house was a relief. Over time a lot of people have tried to convince me to play again. But I have no desire to do so." His gaze held hers. "I suspect it sounds theatrical, perhaps a bit hysterical."

"It doesn't," Reba rushed to tell him, wanting to assure him that his actions made sense, at least to her. She leaned forward and pressed her hand over his. "I understand, Seth." And she did, more than he realized. More than he'd ever know. He'd given up his music because that part of himself, this one fiber of his life, was interwoven with his memories of his young wife. To sit down and run his fingers over those ivory keys again would be reliving those times he'd treasured with Pamela. The joy he'd once experienced with music would now produce only pain.

"Thank you," he whispered after an awkward moment. "For not lecturing me, for not attempting to reason with me. It's been four years...."

Four years. The rest of his words faded away. Another coincidence. Another irony. It'd been four years since she'd broken off her engagement with John, since she'd last talked to or had anything to do with her sister. Four long years.

The evening took a turn toward the somber following the discussion about music, but even that didn't dim the sense of discovery she experienced.

Seth drove her home, and while they didn't speak, the silence was warm and friendly. It was as though each one needed to absorb what had happened, absorb this second chance they'd been unexpectedly handed. Afraid to consider anything more than this one dinner together.

"I'll see you Sunday at church, won't I?" Seth asked as he walked her toward her front door.

"Of course. I'm going to sit in with the children during Sunday school. I'm a stranger to most of them, and my chances of a successful Christmas program will increase the sooner they're more familiar with me."

"Afterward...how about dinner with me and the boys? Mrs. Miracle is a fabulous cook."

Reba was amused by the children's pet name for the housekeeper. Mrs. Miracle. It felt as though a miracle had happened in her life already, just meeting Seth. She wondered if he'd kiss her and was amazed by how much she wanted him to.

The house was dark, the porch light dim, encouraging, and she longed for the feel of Seth's arms. Hungered for the comfort she instinctively recognized she'd find in his embrace. When he did take her gently in his arms, she experienced that and much more.

Seth's kiss was sweet and undemanding. Slowly, as though he wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, his lips found hers. His touch was tentative, light yet tender and fierce all at once, as if he too were dealing with an abundance of frightening emotions. Exploring them, she suspected, was as scary for him as it was for her. Perhaps more so, since he'd been married.

When he lifted his head from hers, she sighed softly, then wrapped her arms around his middle and braced her forehead against his shoulder.

"I wasn't sure if kissing you was the thing to do."

"I'm glad you did," she whispered.

"Me too." He stroked her hair, his fingers tangling with the short curls. "You'll come to the house after church? For dinner with me and the kids?"

"Yes." Her voice was barely audible.

"Good." He tilted her head upward to meet his descending mouth and kissed her again. Hunger mingled with gentleness, and this time they ended the contact with heady reluctance. Once more Reba hid her face in his shoulder and inhaled deeply, seeking to find her equilibrium.

"I'd better get back."

She nodded. "Dinner was wonderful."

"I thought so, too." He retreated two steps.

She raised her hand and wiggled her fingertips. "Good night," she said as though everything were normal when in fact it wasn't. She wasn't. Many years earlier, while visiting her grandmother in California, a six-year-old Reba had been awakened by a violent earthquake. The experience had been traumatic. She'd clung to her grandmother, shaken both emotionally and physically. One date with Seth and Reba felt six years old all over again.

All because of Seth's kisses. She felt renewed. Reawakened. Alive. And frightened. Terribly frightened. So much so that she was trembling almost uncontrollably by the time she walked inside her home.

Not