Read Online His Heart for the Trusting by Lisa Mondello - Free Book Online Page A

around Jonathan, which
didn't leave any smooth openings to ask for more.  Sara definitely wanted to
know something more about the man whose home she shared.
    Mitch was the
first one to speak.  “Never in my life have I seen so much water flying around,
all because of one little baby.  He's a slippery little thing when he's wet.”
    Sara squashed
down the vague disappointment that he'd chosen the standard topic that bound
them.  Recalling how she'd found them both in the bathroom with an ocean of
water on Mitch, and then more on the floor, she smiled.  It had truly been a
mess, but to Mitch's credit, he hadn't called her for help.
    “You did good,”
she praised.
    They fell into
silence again and Sara debated whether to leave him alone with his project or
just watch him rearranged items in his shop. 
    She watched
him.  She loved his hands, wide and callused from work.  Strong, capable hands
made a woman feel safe.  Her heart seemed to flutter like the wings of a
butterfly just thinking about what his hand would feel like on the small of her
back as he moved her through a crowded room.  Or on her face as he gazed at her
with his deep, blue eyes. 
    Sara had seen
him working in the barnyard, hauling bags of feed and hoisting spools of barbed
wire onto the truck with ease.  Years of working hard had given him strength,
yet she knew firsthand how gentle he could be with Jonathan.  He had hands
built for working.  And for loving.  He'd transferred that same love and care
to his work here, crafting his son's bed.
    Sara's
ex-husband had his hands manicured religiously, as did she.  A quick glance at
her own nails now had her curling her fingers under self-consciously.  They'd
been neglected since she'd come to Steerage Rock.  No longer was there the time
for pampering that was rarely broken back in Los Angeles.  Now Jonathan took up
so much of her time.
    Not ready to
face the quiet of the house, Sara stayed and watched Mitch.  His dark brown
hair was getting a little too long in the front and a lock of hair kept draping
across his startling blue eyes.  With a quick swipe of his hand, that she could
swear he was barely aware of, Mitch pushed the hair aside while keeping his
mind concentrated on his work.
    Dedication. 
Love.  It was both, she decided.
    You needed
dedication and love to dig in roots.  That’s why she’d come home.
    She'd initially
come outside to ask Mitch a question.  But as she heard the DJ come back from
commercial and spin another classic, she settled back against the workbench and
just listened.  Every so often, Mitch would start singing.
    She couldn’t
hold back the smile when he finally glanced at her.
    “What?  Did I
do something wrong?”
    Shaking her
head, she said, “You were born in the wrong decade.”
    “Nah.  You
forget I'm not from around these parts.  When I was kid, my friends and me
listened to Motown and classic rock.  It was considered classic from the 60's
and 70's even then, but we couldn't get enough of it.”
    He danced
around, tools in hand, singing and smiling as if he were doing it for her
entertainment.  And maybe he was.  He seemed to take pleasure in her laughter.
    “Oh, this is
one of my favorite songs,” he said, turning the radio up loud enough so the
booming bass of the music bounced off the walls of the workshop.  He came
toward her with arms stretched open wide.
    “Mitch, I won't
be able to hear the baby.”
    “He won't wake
up.  Besides, it's just a short song.  Come dance with me, Sara.”
    Her pulse
jackhammered.  Taking in his outstretched arms and the thought of having them
wrapped around her, Sara shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest. 
“I'll pass.  I think you're doing fine for the both of us.”
    “Ah, come on. 
Just one dance.  The song is half over anyway.”
    Before she
could stop him, he had her on her feet and in his arms, breezing her around the
workshop floor as if she was dancing on air.  Her heart