This Time(41)

She spotted her keys on the counter, just like Russell said. He walked behind the register and leaned on the counter, still talking. Belle paused by the door and tried to listen.

She appreciated Russell's enthusiasm for the hometown team, but she found his high-pitched voice and fast-talking manner distracting. Her mind wandered as he prattled.

Everywhere she went, people wanted to talk about Burke and the winning Haymakers. She rejoiced over his success, yet she fought to keep herself from being drawn into the town's excitement over him. Since their front porch conversation, she'd seen little of him. He called every other night, gently affirming his affection for her and his desire to pursue a relationship. She did her best to keep the conversation airy and brief, avoiding connotations of intimacy. She kept the longing of her heart locked away and secret. Only the Lord saw and understood what she could not express to her friends, not even her dad.

She strummed her guitar, letting her feelings and thoughts intertwine, declaring her desires to the Lord in prayerful songs. In those times, the gentle and peaceful presence of the Lord filled her soul and reassured her of His love. She sensed no direction from the Him concerning Burke, yet a curiosity flitted through her soul, wondering about His plans for her. Did they include Burke?

An image of him popped into her mind as Russell talked. Last Sunday she caught a glimpse of him as he left the sanctuary, handsome and smart looking in his dark, tailored suit. The tranquil, confident, tenderhearted look on his face and the depth behind his eyes captivated her. During the week, she found it hard not to think of him. She anticipated his evening calls and let their conversation linger longer than normal.

Belle forced the picture from her mind and checked into Russell's story. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her legs and arms, idly jingling her keys.

"Russ Jr. found the hole and went right for the quarterback. Sacked 'im before he could draw back for the pass."

"Good for R.J."

"I tell ya--"

The screen door snapped open, and Dean Benning walked in with Burke. "Evening, Russ," Dean said.

Belle straightened with a jolt. Burke stopped walking when he saw her. Their eyes locked in a private moment, unspoken feelings passing between them.

"Ev'nin', Dean. Ev'nin', Coach," Russell said, coming around from behind the counter, his voice spiked with excitement. He shook Burke's hand aggressively.

Belle glanced away, breaking the intimate connection with him.

Russell asked, "What can I do for you boys?"

"Need a few supplies," Dean said, slapping a hand on Russell's shoulder and steering him away from his brother.

Burke strolled over to Belle, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor. He wore faded blue jeans with a dark sweater and his blue Haymakers coach's jacket. He looked relaxed, yet confident and commanding. He stopped when he got to her, and put his hand on the wall, leaning in close. "How are you?" he asked.

She squirmed. "I'm fine. You?"

"Busy, but good."

She shifted her gaze to his face, her heart pounding. "Russell's been bending my ear about your team."

His intense focus remained on her. "Why don't you come to the games?"

"How do you know I don't?"

Burke smiled. "My little informants tell me."

"Let me guess, Gates and Meg. Maybe Mary Beth."

He shook his blond head no and confessed. "Your dad."

Belle gaped at him. "What? My father? Traitor."

They shared a light laugh.

"Will you come next Friday night?"

She looked out the feed store window that faced Main Street where the yellow glow of the street lamps dotted the night. She thought she should get home and see if Duke needed help fixing dinner. But she couldn't seem to command her legs to move. After a noticeable silence, she said, "No."

"Why?"

Belle fumbled with her keys and shrugged, finding it hard to formulate her feelings into words. "I can't. I just can't," she said.

"Have dinner with me."

"No."

"Belle, please. It will give us time to talk. Let's not leave our face to face interaction to chance, like now."

She felt herself yielding to his pleasant plea. His tone of voice, the look in his eyes, even his posture told her how much he cared. Surely she could spend one meal with him. Her heart and mind debated. Finally she said, "Burke, what's the point? We aren't going back to what we were. Let's just move on with our lives, forget what we once were."

"That's my point. Let's move on, together. But forget you? Now it's my turn to say I can't."

"Looks like we're at a stalemate."

Dean came over and said quietly to his brother, "I'm ready anytime you are. Hey, Belle."

"Hey, Dean."

Burke asked Dean to give him a few minutes. He agreed and sauntered off to occupy Russell. Belle could see Russell desperately wanted to talk football with Burke, but Dean kept him engaged, talking about Jack, R.J. and the team.

Burke turned his attention back to Belle. "I thought we were getting somewhere. I really enjoy our nightly talks. We've covered some good ground."

"Okay, we're friends. But that's where it ends, Burke. I've made my decision," she said squarely, sensing her courage return. She would stick with her original resolve.