Everyday Blessings
Jillian Hart
When Aubrey McKaslin visited reclusive photographer William Corey, she found a man who had given up on life and faith. He said he was happy at his mountain retreat, but Aubrey didn't believe it for a minute.His eyes signaled a kindred soul, a man who shared her love of art and the outdoors. Spending time together awakened deeper feelings in them both, but could William trust in his faith and rise above his past?
Perfect. That’s what she was.
William struggled with the emotion in his chest. Never had he seen so clearly. The graceful way Aubrey smoothed a fingertip over a fragile velvet petal. She was sweetness itself. Feeling flooded him.
She glowed with happiness as she headed his way. “I’ve been wanting to do more rain chimes, with the fall rains a few months away. This will be perfect.”
“Rain chimes? Never heard of them.”
“You’ll get the first one for the season. They’re like wind chimes, but instead of wind, they catch the rain and chime.”
He could see the way she took the ordinary and made it a little lovelier. They had that in common, the appreciation of what was right in front of them. She broke down his reserve and he felt revealed as the warm mountain breeze swept over him. Aubrey came close, but he didn’t move away.
JILLIAN HART
makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next story, she loves to read, go to lunch with her friends and spend quiet evenings with her family.
Everyday Blessings
Jillian Hart
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Put on a heart of compassion.
—Colossians 3:12
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Aubrey McKaslin didn’t know if she was coming or going. All she knew was that her eighteen-month-old niece was crying in agony, holding her fists to her ears. The little girl’s cries echoed in the coved ceiling of the dining nook of her stepsister Danielle’s home. To top it off, her almost five-year-old nephew Tyler was refusing to eat his dinner.
She was running on four hours’ sleep at the end of a difficult day that came at the end of a very bad week, and she was at her wit’s end. And she wasn’t the only one. Tyler, always a good and dependable boy, gave his plate a push away from him at the table and shot her a mulish glare.
“I want Mommy. I don’t want Mexi-fries!” He choked back a sob, his eyes full of pain. “I want my d-daddy. I want him to come h-home.”
“I know, but he can’t come, pumpkin. He’s still in the hospital.” Aubrey ran a loving hand over his tousled head. “You know he would be here with you if he could.”
“But why?”
“Because he’s sick, honey.” Aubrey’s heart broke as she bounced the weepy little girl on her hip, to comfort her. With her free hand, she knelt to brush her fingertips down the little boy’s nose. It usually made him smile, but not this evening. No, it had been a rough day for all of them.
On days like this, she wanted to know why so many hardships. She’d take it to the Lord in prayer, but she knew that life was like this, sometimes difficult, sometimes beyond understanding. All she could do was make the best of such an awful day.
“But why’s he sick?” Fat tears glistened in Tyler’s sorrowful eyes. “Why?”
Tyler’s dad, Jonas, wasn’t sick. He’d slipped into a degenerating coma, as the doctor had told them this afternoon. Jonas was a state trooper who’d been shot ten days ago when he’d stopped a speeder, who apparently had an outstanding warrant for his arrest and didn’t want to be caught. The man was still at large.
“When I’m sick, I hafta stay in bed or quiet on the couch.” The boy’s soulful eyes were filled with such innocence. “Daddy can, too?”
How could she explain this to him so he’d understand? Aubrey was at a loss. She loved her nephew; in the end, that’s all she could do for him. Love him through his pain. “Your daddy is so sick he has to stay at the hospital.”
“N-no?” Tyler choked on a sob. “I w-want my da-daddy. He’s gotta have M-Mexi-fries.”
So, that’s what this was about. She’d picked up fast-food Mexican meals on her way here to take turns sitting with the kids. Aubrey knew now why Tyler was so upset. It was a standing jest in the family that Mexi-fries, which were seasoned, deep-fried Tater Tots from a local taco place, could solve a host of problems. Being sick was one of them. “How about I ask your aunt Ava to take care of that? Will that make you feel better?”
“Y-yes.” Tyler was sobbing so hard he choked.
Poor little boy. Aubrey’s heart broke all over again for him as she wrapped her free arm around him. He clung to her, crying as hard as the baby in her other arm. How their mother handled this on a daily basis, Aubrey didn’t know. Talk about a tough job.
But an important one. A job she’d given up hope on ever having as her own considering the way her life was going. She pressed a kiss to Tyler’s temple. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Y-yeah.” He hiccupped and let go to rub his tears away with his fists. “I’m a big boy.”
“Yes, you are. A very big boy. You’re doing a terrific job, champ.”
“Y-yeah.” He gave a sniff and stared at his plate. “Do I gotta eat the Mexi-fries?”
“Try to eat something, okay?” She rubbed her free hand over Madison’s soft, downy head. The antibiotics she’d picked up earlier hadn’t kicked in yet, or at least not enough, and she was still in misery. “I’m going to try rocking her again. I’ll be right over here if you need me.”
“O-kay.” Tyler hiccupped again, wrestling down his own misery, and stared halfheartedly at his plate.
Madison wrapped her little fists in Aubrey’s long blond hair and yanked, at the same time burying her face in Aubrey’s neck.
Poor baby. Aubrey began humming a Christian pop tune, the first thing that came into her head as she ambled over to the rocker in the corner of the living room. The instant she sank onto the soft cushion, Madison let out a scream of protest. She must be missing her mom, too.
“It’s all right, baby,” she soothed, and Madison’s cries became sobs.
Lord, please show me how to help them, how to comfort them. She closed her eyes and prayed with all her heart, but no answer seemed to come as the air conditioner kicked on, breezing cool air against her ankle.
Life had been so dark the past week and a half that she’d forgotten there was a beautiful, bright world outside the house. It was a gorgeous summer evening. The trees were in full bloom. Thick streams of sunshine tumbled through the dancing green leaves of the young maple trees in the backyard and glinted over the sparkling surface of the in-ground pool. The tabby cat stalked through the shadows of the perimeter shrubbery, and Danielle’s flower baskets on the deck shivered cheerfully in the warm night breezes.
How could such a beautiful day hold so much sorrow?
Her cell began to chime, startling Madison even more. Red faced, the little girl slumped like a rag doll against Aubrey in defeat, her fingers fisting in the knit of Aubrey’s summery top. She leaned her cheek against the little girl, willing as much comfort into her as she could while at the same time inching the phone out of her front shorts pocket. She checked the screen, just in case it was a call from family.
Ava’s cell number came up—her twin sister. Thank God for small miracles. “Tell me that you’re on your way over. Please.”
“Sorry, I wish I could.” Ava’s voice sounded thin and wavering, and Aubrey’s stomach squeezed in a painful zing of sympathy. She knew what was coming before her twin said it. “Things aren’t good here. Danielle’s not okay. That’s her husband in there, dying, and I can’t leave her. Is that Madison?”
“You can hear her, huh?” No big surprise there. Aubrey kept the rocker moving and tried to comfort the baby, but things were just getting worse. Now Tyler was sobbing quietly at the table. “Have you heard if Dad and Dorrie’s plane has landed yet?”
“No, but when they get here, I’ll race straight over to give you a hand with the munchkins.”
“Thanks, I’ll take whatever help I can get.”
“I’ll hopefully see you soon and, in the meantime, I’ll send a few prayers of help your way.”
“Great, I’ll take ’em.”
The doorbell rang, the sound a pleasant chime echoing in the high cathedral ceilings overhead. Tyler looked up, tears staining his face. Madison ignored it, keeping her face buried in Aubrey’s neck. It was probably a thoughtful church member dropping by another casserole. “I gotta go. Someone’s at the door.”
“Who?”
“How can I tell? I’m not near the door. It’s not family, because they would walk right in.” Somehow she managed to straighten out of the chair without jostling Madison or dropping her cell phone. “Call me if anything changes, okay?”
That was all she could say with Tyler listening, all ears, trying to figure out what was really going on. But he was too little to understand, and overhearing it was not the right way to explain what was happening with his daddy.
“Understood,” Ava said. “The doctor is talking with Danielle right now, so I’ll let you know.”
Aubrey flipped her phone shut. The doorbell pealed again, but she wasn’t moving very fast. Neither was Tyler.
He slid off his seat and landed with a two-footed thud on the linoleum floor. He rubbed the tears away with his fists, smearing them across his pale cheeks. “I can get the door, Aunt Aubrey. I do it for Mom all the time.”
“Go ahead, tiger.” She followed him through the hallway to the front door, where the door’s arched window gave her a good view of the newcomer standing on the porch. She caught the impression of a tall man with jet-black hair framing a stony face before Tyler wrenched the door open.
“Who’re you?” he asked with a sniffle.
Aubrey stood up behind the boy, staring at the stranger who took one look at them and rechecked the house number tacked on the beige siding.
“I’m looking for Jonas Lowell.” The man said in a gravelly baritone. “Do I have the right place?”
He had dark eyes that met her gaze like an electrical shock. He had an intense presence, not dark and not frightening, just solid. Like a man who knew his strength and his capability.
Aubrey couldn’t find her voice, so she nodded, aware of Madison’s baby-fine curls against her chin, the warm weight of the toddler, and the blast of dry summer wind on her face.
Tyler leaned against her knee, tipping his head all the way back to look at up at the man. “You’re real tall. Are you a fireman?”
“No.” The man came forward, and with the sun at his back shadowing him as he approached, he looked immense. His dark gaze intensified on hers. “You’re not Danielle, right?”
“No, I’m her stepsister.” He definitely was not a close friend of Jonas’s, Aubrey decided. But there were friends who still didn’t know. She opened the door wider. Not a lot of crime happened in this part of Montana, in spite of what had happened to Jonas.
“Maybe you didn’t hear, I…” She paused. How did she find the words to say what had happened, with Tyler listening so intently? Danielle hadn’t wanted him to know the whole truth yet. It was so violent and cruel. Too violent and cruel.
“I’m sorry to show up like this,” the big man apologized. “I’ve left a few messages on Jonas’s voice mail, but he hasn’t gotten back to me.”
“No, he’s not going to be able to do that right now. He’s in the hospital. If you want, I can have Danielle give you a call to explain.” That might be best. Tyler was frightened enough as it was. She could feel his little body tense up, board-stiff against her knees.
“In the hospital?” The man looked stricken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You said you’re Danielle’s sister?”
“Yes, I’m Aubrey. Let me get a pen so I can get your number.” It was hard to concentrate with Madison sobbing. She was gently rubbing the toddler’s shoulder blades with her free hand. “Tyler, would you run and get a pen and the notepad by the phone for me?”
“Wait—” The man’s rough baritone boomed like thunder. “Obviously this isn’t a good time. I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll leave my card with the gift—”
“Gift?” Okay, call her confused. She had no idea who this man was or what he was talking about. “I’m sorry. Run that by me again.”
“Sure. Jonas bought a gift for his wife. An anniversary present. He was going to come by and pick it up, but since I hadn’t heard from him, I thought I’d bring it by. Where do you want it?”
She felt her jaw dropping. Her heart cinched so tightly there was no possible way it could beat. “An anniversary gift? For Danielle?”
The man nodded warily, watching her closely as if he were afraid she was going to burst into tears or show some emotional reaction. Maybe it was his size, or the awkward way he’d taken a step back, but he seemed like the type who was easily panicked by an emotionally distraught woman.
Not that she was emotionally distraught. Yet. “If you could put it in the garage, maybe? I’ll hit the opener for you. I’m sorry,” she said as Madison began a more intense wave of crying. “This is really a bad time.”
“I see that.” He studied the little girl, his ruggedly handsome face lined with concern.
“It’s an ear infection. The medicine’s starting to work. I just have to rock her until she falls asleep.”
“Alright, then.” Stiffly, he took a step back. “Is Jonas going to be okay?”
No. But could she say that in front of Tyler? All she could do was shrug her shoulder. Tyler had frozen in place, ears peeled, eyes wide, trying to absorb any detail.
As if the stranger had noticed, he nodded in understanding. Sadness crossed his granite face. With a single nod, he turned and strode down the walkway, taking the shadows with him.
Immeasurably sad, Aubrey closed the door and sent Tyler into the garage to hit the button that activated the door opener. Madison was crying anew and there was nothing Aubrey could do but rock her gently back and forth, quietly singing the only song that came into her mind.
She wasn’t even sure if she had the words right, because all she could think about was Jonas. Thoughtful Jonas. He’d gotten an anniversary gift for his wife, but would it become like a message from the grave? A final goodbye? Aubrey choked back her own sorrow. It was too horrible to think about.
Life could knock your feet out from under you with a moment’s notice, she thought. You could have it all, do everything right, pray diligently and live your faith, and tragedy could still happen.
She tightened her arms around the little girl who might have to grow up without her daddy, and she tried not to wonder what awaited her family, the people she loved.
William Corey could see the woman—Aubrey—through the garden window. His opinion of women was shaky these days, due to his experience with the gender. But he could see how this woman was different.
Maybe it was the soft, thick, golden fall of sunlight through the glass that diffused the scene, like a filter on a camera’s lens. That soft brush of opalescent light touched her blond hair and the porcelain curve of her heart-shaped face, making her look like rare goodness.
Or, maybe it was the child in her arms, clinging to her with total trust and need. Whatever the reason, she looked like innocence, pure and sweet.
Stop staring at the woman, William, he told himself and shook his head to clear away all thoughts of her. He popped the crew-cab door of his truck. Sweat dampened the collar of his T-shirt and the black knit clung to his shoulders as he lifted the wrapped frame from his rig. Across the street, a miniature dachshund came racing down from its front porch to bark and snarl, teeth snapping. It halted at the edge of the curb, glaring at him with black beady eyes. Someone shouted for it to shush and the little fellow kept barking, intent on driving William away.
“Yeah, I know how you feel, buddy,” he said to the dog, who only barked harder in outrage. William didn’t like strangers, either. He’d learned how to chase them with off with a few gruff words, too.
As he circled around to the open garage, he caught sight of the woman in the window, framed by the honeyed sheen of the kitchen cabinets. Washed with light, caught in the act of kissing the little toddler’s downy head in comfort, she looked picture perfect.
His fingers itched for his camera to capture the moment, to play with light and angle and reveal this pure moment of tenderness. It had been a long time since he’d felt this need to work—since Kylie’s death. It took all his will to drag his gaze from the kitchen window and force his thoughts away from the woman. His days of holding a camera in his hands were over.
“So, mister.” The boy stood in the open inner door between the garage and the house, a lean, leggy little guy with too-big Bermuda shorts and a shocking-green tank top. His brown hair stuck straight up as if he’d been struck by lightning. Tear tracks stained his sun-browned cheeks and had dampened his eyelashes. “That’s a present, huh?”
“For your mom.” William softened the gruffness in his voice. He liked little kids, and he figured this one had enough hardship to deal with.
He leaned the framed photograph, carefully wrapped, against the inside wall safely away from the garbage cans and the lawn mower. “I’ll just leave it here, alright? You make sure your mom gets it, okay? With all you’ve got going on in your family, it might be easy to forget this is here.”
“I never forget nuthin’.” The little boy said with a trembling lip. He gave a sigh that was part sob, sounding as if he were doing his best to hold back more tears. “My daddy’s sick in the hospital.”
“I’m real sorry about that.”
“Me, too.” The kid sniffed once.
William had questions, but he didn’t know exactly what to ask. An illness? That didn’t seem right; Jonas was the type of guy to hit the gym three times a week without fail. Not that William knew him well.
The little boy looked so lost, holding on to the doorknob with one hand, as if he were hanging on for dear life. What on earth should he say to him?
William stood in the shadows of the garage, as still as the boy, feeling big and awkward and lost. He’d been alone too long, out of the world so long that he wasn’t used to making small talk with adults, much less a little boy.
“I miss my daddy. You haven’t seen him, have ya?”
“No. Sorry.” William could feel the kid’s pain—it seemed to vibrate in the scorching heat. The silence stretched until it echoed in the empty rafters overhead. “How long has he been in the hospital?”
“A l-long time.” The boy scrubbed his left eye with his free hand. “For-ev-ever.”
William had a bad feeling about this, a strange reeling sense of the present lapping backward onto the past. “How old are you, kid?”
“I’m gonna be this much.” He held up his whole hand. “Daddy’ll be well, cuz he’s takin’ me to the f-fair. He prom-mised.”
William studied the fat gleam of two silver tears spilling down the boy’s cheeks and felt the sorrow of his own past. Things didn’t always turn out well, stories didn’t always end happily, and ill loved ones didn’t always recover.
Maybe that wouldn’t be the case for Jonas.
Faintly, from inside the house, came the woman’s—Aubrey’s—voice. “Tyler, close the garage door and come try to finish your supper, okay?”
Tyler hung his head and didn’t answer. His pain was as palpable as the shadows creeping into the garage and the heat in the July air.
“You’d better go,” William said, ambling toward the cement driveway, where birdsong lulled and leaves lazed in the hot breeze and the dog across the street was still yapping with protective diligence.
“Mister?”
The little boy’s voice drew him back. William stilled. Even his heart seemed to stop beating.
“You could p-pray for my daddy so he can come ho-me.” Tyler scrubbed his eyes again, took a step back and closed the inner door.
Leaving William alone in the heat and the shadows with an ache in his chest that would not stop.
Chapter Two
Aubrey breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the inside door snap shut and Tyler plod across the linoleum. One problem down, and now she’d move to solving the next.
“Just eat something,” she said softly to him, brushing her fingertips through his hair as he wove past her.
“Okay,” he said on a sigh and halfheartedly climbed back up onto his chair.
Madison gave a hiccup and relaxed a little more. Good. Aubrey stood in place in the center on the kitchen, gently rocking back and forth, shifting her weight from her right foot to her left. The stinging tracer of pain fired down her left femur, as it always did when her leg was tired, but Aubrey didn’t let that stop her, since Madison’s breathing had begun to slow. She became as limp as a rag doll. Her fingers released Aubrey’s shirt, so the collar was no longer digging into her throat.
Aubrey sent a prayer of thanks winging heavenward and pressed another kiss into the baby’s crown of fine curls. Somewhere outside came the growl of a lawn mower roaring to life. Aubrey didn’t know if it was cruel or comforting that the world kept on turning in the midst of a tragedy. That lawns still needed to be mowed and housework done. The gift Jonas had ordered for Danielle—now that was getting to her. She tried to swallow down the hot tears balling up in her throat.
The lawn mower was awfully loud. Either that, or awfully close. Aubrey eased forward a few steps to peer outside, careful not to disturb the sleeping toddler in her arms. The lawn had gone unmowed. Since everyone in the family was so busy juggling kid care and sitting with Danielle at the hospital, there wasn’t any time left over for much else.
Not that she minded at all, but she hadn’t been to the stables to ride her horse or able to work on her ceramics in her studio. There hadn’t been time for normal living—only working at the bookstore and helping Danielle out afterward. But now that her dad and stepmom were flying in, they wouldn’t all be stretched so thin.
Then she saw him. William. He was wrestling with the mower at the far end of the lawn, lining it up for the next pass. Dappled sunlight gilded his strong profile and broad shoulders as he guided the mower out of sight. For a moment she didn’t believe her eyes. He was mowing the lawn?
She knew he was, and yet her mind sort of spun around as if it was stuck in neutral. She could only gape speechlessly at the two strips of mowed lawn, proof of a stranger’s kindness. A tangible assurance, small but much needed, that God’s goodness was at work. Always.
Don’t worry, Aubrey, she told herself. This will work out, too.
She took a deep breath, watched William stride back into her sight, easily pushing the mower in front of him, and she knew what she had to do.
William wiped at the gritty sweat with his arm, but it still trickled into his eyes and burned. He upended the final, full lawn-mower bag into the garage waste bin. It was hot, and although the sun was sinking low in its sky, the temperature felt hotter than ever.
All he wanted was to get into his rig, turn on the air-conditioning full blast and stop by the first convenience store for a cold bottle of water. He gave the heavy bag a shake to make sure all the cut grass was out and a dust cloud of tiny bits of grass and seed puffed into his face. He coughed, and the tiny grit stuck to his sweat-dampened skin. This was why he had a riding mower, not that it would be practical for Jonas’s patch of lawn.
Jonas. In the hospital. It had to be an extended stay, since William had been leaving messages for the past week and a half or so. Which meant it was a serious deal. Sick at heart, William reattached the bag to the mower and wheeled it against the far wall, out of the way. Every movement echoed around him in the carless garage. There was the photograph, wrapped and propped carefully against the wall. The photograph he’d sold to Jonas for practically nothing.
He closed his eyes, and there was the memory, as vivid as real life. Jonas grinning, still in his trooper’s uniform after a long shift. He was standing in front of the Gray Stone Church, where the united church charities in the valley met for their monthly meetings. He’d produced a hardback book of William’s photographs for his signature.
“I really appreciate this, Will,” Jonas had said in all sincerity. “My wife loves your work. It’s a gift for our anniversary. It’ll be seven years.”
“Seven years,” William had said while he’d scribbled his signature on the title page. “Isn’t that said to be one of the most critical years?”
“Sure, I’ve heard of folks talking about the seven-year itch or whatever, but I don’t get it. I’ve got the best wife in the world.”
William had remembered, because he’d believed Jonas. The man had actually planned for his wedding anniversary a month in advance. He’d been telling the truth about his feelings for his wife. That was rare, in Will’s opinion. After all, he knew. Once, the blessing of marriage had happened to him.
Maybe that’s why he’d offered one of the photographs from his personal stash. He liked to think that the things he’d lost in life still existed somewhere. That there was a reason to hope, although he’d lost that hope right along with his faith, and a lot of other things.
Standing in the baking heat of Jonas’s garage, William pulled out his wallet and searched through it until he found a battered business card, which he tucked around the string that held the brown paper wrapping in place. He thought of the little boy’s sorrow, his request for prayer, and vowed to honor that request tonight. It had been a long time since he’d said a nightly prayer.
As he turned to go, the inside door opened. The sister—Aubrey—stood framed in the doorway, one slender hand on the doorknob, poised in midstep. She hesitated, as if she were a little shy, and she made a lovely picture with the child asleep in her arms.
The painful lump was back in his throat. A ghost of memory tried to haunt him, but he wrestled it down. The trick was to keep your heart rock hard.
“Oh, good. I’m glad I caught you,” she said in a voice as soft as grace. “It’s ninety-six degrees out there in the shade. I have a bottle of cold water, or lemonade. I didn’t know which you’d prefer.”
Sure enough, she’d managed to wrap her fingers awkwardly around two plastic bottles, and still cradled the sleeping baby lovingly against her.
“Water’s fine.” Somehow he got the words out.
“Thank you for doing this.” She stopped to deposit one of the bottles out of sight and breezed toward him with a careful step. “You have no idea how much we appreciate it. You must be a good friend of Jonas’s.”
“He’s a good man.” William glanced behind her at the open door, knowing his voice might carry to the little boy inside. “I didn’t know he was sick.”
“He’s not. That was the best way to explain to Tyler.” Her answer came quietly. “He was shot on duty.”
While it hadn’t occurred to him, the possibility had been there, in the back of his mind, William realized.
“He was doing better, but he suffered something like a stroke a few days ago and now he’s in a deep coma.”
“Not good.”
“No.” Pain marked her face and weighed down that single word. She said nothing more.
She didn’t have to. He knew too much about comas. Wished he didn’t. “Is there anything more I can do for his family?”
“Prayer. God’s grace is the only thing that will help him now.”
What could he say to that? It was the truth, and from his experience, a deep coma was a death sentence. William moved forward to take the bottle of water she offered. He tried not to brush her fingers with his or to notice the stunning violet-blue of her eyes or the shadows within them. He would not let himself think too much on the soft feminine scents of shampoo and vanilla-scented lotion or her loveliness. It wasn’t something he ordinarily noticed anymore.
“Thanks.” He held up the bottle, ice-cold from the refrigerator, and kept moving. “Be sure and turn on the sprinkler after I leave. Oh, and I left my number with the package. If his condition changes, will you call me? Leave a message on my machine?”
“Yes, I will. Thank you again.”
He didn’t look back or acknowledge her as he strode straight to his vehicle, all business, and climbed in. He didn’t look at her as he backed into the residential street or lift a hand in a goodbye wave as he drove away.
Aubrey watched the gleam of his taillights in the gathering twilight and couldn’t help wondering who was this Good Samaritan? He hadn’t exactly been friendly, but clearly he’d thought enough of Jonas to have pitched in with the lawn mowing.
He seemed distant and not exactly friendly. She felt as if she’d seen him somewhere before, like in church or in the bookstore her family ran. The look of him was familiar—though not the personality he radiated. That hard steel and sorrow would be memorable.
At a loss to explain it, she went to hit the button to close the garage door and noticed the bright yellow SUV whipping down the curve of the cul-de-sac and into the driveway. Behind the sheen of the sinking sun on the tinted windshield, she could see the faint image of her twin sister busily pulling the e-brake, turning off the engine and gathering her things, talking animatedly as she went, which meant she had to be yakking on her cell phone.
Aubrey kept an ear to the open inside door, where she could hear the drone of the cartoon version of A Christmas Carol that Tyler watched over and over again. Knowing he was safely riveted in front of the television, she waited as the bright yellow driver’s-side door swung open and Ava emerged. Her sister Ava was chaos as usual, her enormous purse slung over her shoulder, thick and bulky and banging her painfully in the hip. Yep, she was definitely on her cell, and judging by her shining happiness, she was talking to her handsome fiancé, Brice.
Madison stirred drowsily between wakefulness and sleep, and Aubrey patted her back gently and returned to rocking again. She watched as her sister gave her a welcoming wave, shut her SUV’s door, then opened it and extracted her keys from the ignition.
“Oops.” Ava grinned, keeping her voice quiet as she shut the door. “You’ve got Madison half-asleep.”
“Working on it.” Aubrey kept rocking, full of questions that would have to wait for later, she thought. Even if Tyler was momentarily distracted, any long discussion would have the little boy hurrying to come listen. But not all of her questions had to wait. “I take it that Dad and Dorrie are with Dani?”
“Yep, so the rest of us figured we’d let the parents stay with Danielle through the night, and we’ll take turns relieving them tomorrow.” Ava dragged her feet in exhaustion as she came closer. “Brice said he can take the kids in the morning, so at least that’s taken care of.”
“See? I told you. You’ve got a great guy.”
“He’s the best guy.” She said it with confidence, as if she no longer had a single doubt.
And why would she? Brice was absolutely perfect. Happiness for her sister warred with the sadness she felt for her family and the odd aching sorrow that William left behind. Which reminded her. “Do you know a friend of Jonas’s named William?”
“Nope. Then again, why would I? I can’t keep my own name straight some days.” Ava rolled her eyes and leaned close to reach for Madison. She transferred the sleepy child into her arms. “I’m taking over. You’re officially off duty.”
“When it comes to family, there no such thing as off duty.”
“Stop being stubborn and go home—”
“To an empty apartment?”
For a moment they both paused in their lifelong habit of interrupting each other and finishing the other’s sentences. Aubrey knew what Ava stopped short of saying. They’d spent their whole lives together. Even when they’d pursued different career paths after high school, they’d still been practically attached at the hip.
They talked throughout the day, all day long, thanks to the invention of cell phones. They met for lunch and dinner, and they shared an apartment. They spent their free time together as they always had. But Ava’s marriage would change that.
Aubrey loved her sister with all her heart, and there was nothing more important than her happiness, but she knew she was going to miss spending so much time with her twin. When she looked into the future, Ava would have a home and a husband, children. That’s where her time and energy should lie. Absolutely. But all Aubrey saw for herself was a long stretch of lonely evenings and weekends. Even now, without Madison in her arms, she felt lonely.
Not that she was going to be sad for herself for a second, because look at all the wonderful blessings the Lord put into her life with each and every day. But still, it was a change. And a big one.
“Tyler’s watching one of his DVDs,” she said with the most cheerful voice she could muster under the circumstances. “Maybe I’ll just crash with him on the couch.”
“Hey, what’s that?” Nothing got past Ava. She pointed with her free hand to the wrapped gift.
“No idea. That William guy I mentioned dropped it off. It’s an anniversary gift from Jonas to Danielle.”
Ava looked sucker punched. “That’s just about the saddest thing I’ve heard today, and it’s been a day with a whole lot of sad in it.”
“Tell me about it,” she said over the sound of the garage door ratcheting closed. She stared at the package wrapped so neatly and noticed, for the first time, there was a business card tucked beneath the intersecting twine. “It’s hot in here. Maybe I should take that in.”
“Good idea. It’s probably something really nice, knowing Jonas.”
A beat of silence passed between them when they said nothing at all. Aubrey knew Ava was thinking, too, of how devoted Jonas had been to their stepsister. Now what would happen? She could tell by Ava’s face that whatever the doctors had told them tonight hadn’t been good, which could only mean one thing. Danielle would need her family more than ever.
“I’ll see to this.” Aubrey broke the silence. “You get Madison inside.”
“Ten four.” Ava looked on the brink of tears as she dragged her gaze away from the gift, which was clearly some kind of a wall hanging. “Did you get anything to eat?”
Aubrey shook her head. Not that she was hungry.
“I’ll heat something up for both of us,” Ava decided as she headed inside. The snap of her flip-flops echoed in the empty garage, leaving Aubrey feeling sorely alone.
Okay, call her curious, but she snatched the business card from its secure place beneath the string. The name William Corey was printed in small letters in the lower right-hand corner, in block script. Photographer.
Jonas’s friend was the William Corey? That’s where I’ve seen him before, Aubrey thought, a little shocked. She’d shelved so many of his books at the bookstore over the years, she should have known him on sight. His picture was plastered on the back jacket of his bestselling collections of inspirational photography. How did Jonas know the famed photographer? And why had someone of William’s stature mowed the lawn?
No, that couldn’t be right. Could it? Aubrey tucked the card back into place and carefully lifted the wrapped package. It certainly felt like a framed photograph, she thought as she shut the garage door and headed down the hall. It was a good-size picture. Not that Jonas could afford an original, but William Corey was Danielle’s favorite artist. She had a book of his in the house.
Aubrey took care with the package and leaned it against the wall in Danielle’s bedroom. There was a small wooden bookcase in the corner with a collection of devotionals and inspirational books.
There, on the bottom shelf, Aubrey found what she was looking for. A hardback book with William Corey’s name on the spine. She tugged it from its snug place and turned the volume over. A man’s image with jet-black hair and dark eyes stared up at her.
Yep, it was the same high cheekbones and ruggedly handsome look. William Corey.
It was a nice photograph, she thought, but it didn’t look like the man she’d met tonight. His features were the same, yes. His look was the same. But the man in the picture seemed at ease, with a relaxed half smile on his face, standing in a mountain meadow with rugged peaks in the background. He was vital and alive and full of heart. Not at all the man who’d stood in the garage, looking lost in the shadows.
“Aunt Aubrey?” Tyler came up to stand beside her. “I’m lonesome. Will you come watch TV with me?”
“Sure thing, pumpkin.” Aubrey put the book back on the shelf, but she couldn’t put away her thoughts of William Corey as easily.
She took her nephew’s small, trusting hand and let him lead her down the hall.
In the stillness of his mountain retreat, William was comforted by the echoing scuff of his slippered footsteps. He was back in his space, where he was safe from life and the way it made memories tug at the sorrow in his heart.
Hours had passed since he’d driven away from Jonas’s house. He’d slapped a sandwich together and called it dinner, then hopped on the Internet to scan through the online version of the local paper. He found a small article saying only that Trooper Jonas Lowell had been shot at a routine traffic stop and was in critical care. Nothing more. He’d tried the hospital, but they weren’t releasing any information.
Maybe tomorrow, he’d try harder to see what he could find out and if there was anything he could do to help. After what Jonas had done for him, it was the least he could do.
Troubled, William watched the sun turn bold crimson in the hazy dusk and told himself he didn’t long for his camera. He had no desire to capture the light of the sun and the haze of descending twilight. Really. Or, that’s what he told himself as the long-dead desire grew razor sharp.
It was that woman Aubrey’s fault, he decided as he bent to turn on the lamp at the bedside table. There had been something about her, probably just the trick of the light, that made the dead place inside him come to life. For a moment, he wished for the things that would never be for him again—like innocence and trust and hope.
It had been a long time since he’d prayed. His knees felt stiff as he knelt beside the bed, resting his forearms on the soft, cool percale of the turned-back sheets. The shadowed darkness in the room seemed to deepen and grow; the low-watt bulb in the table lamp wasn’t strong enough to keep it at bay.
Maybe it was the shadows within him that seemed so dark. He thought of Jonas’s little boy and the promise made. William might have given up believing in nearly everything, but he was not the kind of man who went back on his word, especially to a child. So, he bowed his head and, while no words rose up prayerfully from his forgotten soul, he did find the words that mattered.
“Help Jonas to recover, for his family’s sake. Please.”
It felt as if he were talking to no one. He was certain he was alone in the room, that God wasn’t leaning down to listen to his prayers. That only made the darkness bleaker and the iron-hard place inside his soul harder.
William climbed from his knees, sank onto the mattress and buried his face in his hands. Unable to make sense of the broken pieces his life had become, he lay in the dark, alone.
Chapter Three
In the antiseptic scent of the hospital’s early-morning waiting room, Aubrey searched her father’s face for signs of the latest news on Jonas’s condition. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, John McKaslin looked suntanned and robust for a man in his sixties, but there was no smile in his violet-blue eyes.
“Dani’s in with him. There’s no good news.” Heavy sadness weighed down his voice. “You’ve lost weight, pumpkin. You look tired.”
“It’s nothing.” And that was the truth. Doing what she could for her family wasn’t a hardship, it was a privilege. What was a little sleep lost compared to that? “I stayed to help Ava with the kids, and Madison had a rough night.”
“I’m so glad to be here to help out. I’ll take over tonight, dear.” Dorrie wrapped Aubrey into a caring hug and then held her at arm’s length to appraise her. “Your dad’s right. You look exhausted. If only we could have come back sooner. John, the girl is exhausted.”
Dad shook his head. “We should have come sooner. Spence said Jonas was doing better and to keep on with our cruise.”
“He had been.” For a little while, it seemed as if Jonas would be fine, and they had all breathed a sigh of relief. Dad and Dorrie had been starting a cruise and Danielle had convinced them to stay on it. That had been before the coma, of course. Aubrey thought the long trek standby from St. Barts and the night at the hospital had to be taking a toll on her parents. “I’ll stay here, if you two want to head home.”
“All right, then. I’ll get some shut-eye.” Dad leaned to kiss Aubrey’s cheek. “You call if there are any changes, you hear?”
“Yes, sir.” It was good to have her parents back in town. She’d missed them both so much since they’d moved to Scottsdale. “You’re okay to drive? You must have been up most of the night.”
“I got a few z’s in, don’t you worry about me.” Dad gave his wife a kiss. “Are you coming? By the look of you, I’d say you’ve made up your mind to stay.”
“Dani needs me, no matter how tired I am.”
“You need me to grab you breakfast before I go?”
“No, dear, but how about I walk as far as the cafeteria with you?” Dorrie turned to Aubrey. “I’ll be right back. You’ll keep an eye on Dani?”
“You know I will.”
Aubrey watched her parents amble down the hall, hand in hand, shoulders touching. They had found a good marriage, and it had deepened over the years. Somehow, watching them made her heart ache with loneliness, and what kind of sense did that make?
None. Absolutely none. She ought to be feeling less lonely because her parents were back in town. She wasn’t sure what that said about a woman in her late twenties, that she was used to spending so much time with her parents. But she was a homebody. Her family had always been her life and she knew they always would be. It wasn’t as if eligible bachelors were exactly knocking down her door. In fact, not one had ever knocked on the door for her.
For Ava. Yes. Absolutely. Her twin had that adorable charisma that made everybody love her. But Aubrey, well, she knew she was a wallflower, the kind of girl men passed by.
It was simply a fact that she’d learned to deal with. Besides, she had so many wonderful blessings in her life, how could she feel right about asking for more?
There was hot water for tea next to the coffeepot in the pleasant little waiting room, so she started in that direction, but something stopped her. A movement out of the corner of her eye. She recognized the gentleman far down the hall at the nurses station. A tall, broad-shouldered, austere-looking man dressed all in black. Why did she know it was William Corey without him having to turn so she could see his face?
Maybe it was the way his wide, capable shoulders were set, as if he were confident he could handle anything. Perhaps it was the shadows that clung to him in the harsh fluorescent light. Whatever the reason, her attention turned to him automatically, as if she had no say at all.
One of the floor nurses pointed their way, and Aubrey watched William turn toward her. Recognition sparked in his dark eyes, and something else—something she couldn’t name, but she saw his guard go up. His entire being, body and spirit, stiffened. He marched toward her like a soldier facing a firing squad.
He didn’t seem comfortable. He didn’t look happy to see her again.
“I was going to give you a call later this morning,” she explained. “You didn’t need to come down.”
“I wanted to.” He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “They wouldn’t give me any information because I wasn’t family, but I wanted to talk to Jonas’s wife, when she has a minute.”
No welcoming greetings. No small talk. He wasn’t the most extroverted man. Maybe that’s why she automatically liked him. She was introverted, too. “I’m not sure when that will be.”
“I don’t mind waiting.” William shielded his heart with all his strength. He wasn’t going to let himself remember being in the same place in another hospital. In another time. He knew coming here wouldn’t be easy, but the antiseptic smell was more powerful a reminder than he’d anticipated. So were the echoing halls magnifying every movement and the sad shuffle of relatives waiting for news.
Enough, he told himself. He had to wipe his mind clean and not let a single thought in. That seemed to take all of his effort, and Aubrey was looking at him as if she wasn’t too fond of him.
He wasn’t coming across well and he knew it, but this was the best he could do. He couldn’t be the only one in this hospital with bad memories. Surely he could handle this better. He had to try harder, that was all.
“I don’t know if anyone thanked you,” Aubrey was saying.
It was hard for him to focus. The past welled up no matter his best efforts to blot it out. He felt as if he were traveling down an ever-narrowing tunnel and the light at the end of it was blinding him.
“That was really nice of you to mow the lawn.”
“Nice?” The sincerity in her violet-blue gaze startled him. He wasn’t being nice. He was doing what needed to be done. It was so little to do when he owed Jonas so much. “No. It took all of twenty minutes, I think. No big deal.”
“It was, believe me, and bless you for it. We’re simply swamped trying to keep everything together for Danielle’s sake and the kids.”
That only brought back the memory of her holding the small child, awash in light. He might not have been able to capture that extraordinary image with his camera, but apparently he had with his mind. “Danielle. Is there a chance I can see her?”
“She’s in with Jonas and he’s failing and she doesn’t want to—”
He held up one hand, the emptiness inside his soul splintering like fragile glass. “I’ll wait until she has time.”
“It might be a long wait.”
“I don’t mind.” He nodded once as if the matter was settled and strode to the first chair he came to in the waiting area. He folded his big frame into it and pulled a paperback book out of his back jeans pocket.
Aubrey watched him flip the book open to a marked page, tucked the book marker at the end of the book and bow his head to read.
Okay, so call her curious and a little protective of Danielle. Her feet seemed to take over, and on autopilot she wound up beside his chair. “Would you like something hot to drink while I’m up?”
“No.”
He didn’t look up from his book. Not the most talkative of fellows. Aubrey wasn’t at all sure she should like this guy, but there was something about him sitting there all alone, his entire body tense, and he didn’t look comfortable being here. Somehow the overhead light seemed to glance off him, leaving him lost in the shadows.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the hot water carafe on the heating plate. Why did this man unsteady her? He had a powerful presence and his gaze was sharp enough to cut stone. That ought to be enough, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Just as it wasn’t only curiosity that had her watching him out of the corner of her eye as she dunked the tea bag up and down in her little foam cup of steaming water.
The volunteer at the desk looked up from the newspaper she was reading, glanced in William Corey’s direction and gave Aubrey a knowing kind of smile as if to say, he is a handsome one.
Aubrey had to admit that she’d already noticed he was extremely handsome. It was a purely objective observation, of course.
He lifted his focus from his book and studied her through the curve of his long dark lashes. Microseconds stretched out into an uncomfortable tension as his eyes locked with hers. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or angered, then the left corner of his mouth quirked up into a hint of a grin.
Who knew the man could actually smile?
“What?”
That was sort of an invitation to talk, right? Aubrey dropped two sugar cubes into her cup and headed toward him. “I was wondering how you know Danielle and Jonas.”
“I only know Jonas.”
“Then why do you want to see Danielle?”
“It’s personal.”
That’s all he had to say. Aubrey stared at the man. He’d gone back to his reading. “I see you’re a very forthcoming type. And talkative.”
“I can be.”
“Talkative? I don’t believe that.” Did she detect another hint of a grin?
He shrugged one big shoulder. “I’m not here to talk to you.”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a definite, one-sided grin, not an amused one, but enough so that it softened the granite features of his face and hinted at a man with a good-humored nature behind the hard stone.
“I owe Jonas a favor, that’s why I’m here.” His eyes darkened with a terrible sadness.
Sadness she could feel.
He went on. “I want to know what I can do for Danielle. How I can help. Make a difference in their lives.” He paused. “The way Jonas had once done for me.”
“Jonas helped a lot of people in the line of duty.”
“I imagine.” He gave a curt nod, as if it were all he could manage. He swallowed hard, and his sorrow was a palpable thing drawing her closer. “I’m not handling this well. It’s the hospital. I’ve spent a lot of time in them.”
“In this one?”
“Yes.”
She slipped into the chair in the row next to him, leaving an empty seat between them. “Your story didn’t end well, did it? I’m sorry.”
He didn’t know why he was telling her this. What had happened to his resolve to keep this buried? “Four years, five months and twenty three days ago, no, twenty four days ago, my wife died in this hospital. One moment we were riding bikes on the shoulder of a country road, and the next, she was bleeding to death in my arms….”
He could feel the woman’s silence like a touch, her gaze on his face, her sympathy as soft as dawn’s light. The title on the front of the book he held began to blur. “Jonas answered the 911 call. He was going off duty, but he came to help. The paramedics were right behind him, but I’ll never forget what he did. He drove to the hospital and he sat with me while my wife was in surgery. I had no other family. No one else.”
That was all he could say. But there was more that Jonas had done, things that had made all the difference. A difference William could not face, much less put into ordinary words. He hung his head, willing the pain down and forcing his vision to clear.
Her hand settled on his arm, her touch light and comforting. He couldn’t explain why a sense of peace cut through the well of pain gathering deep within him. Or why she made the agony of an endless sorrow ebb away like low tide on a shore. He only knew how dangerous it was to open up to anyone, to let anyone in, and he jerked his arm away.
“Uh, there’s Danielle now,” Aubrey said in a startled voice, hopping to her feet, acting as if he hadn’t embarrassed her.
He was too overwhelmed to do anything more than close his book and try to find the will to stand, to greet Jonas’s wife with a voice that wouldn’t betray his own inner turmoil. He closed off everything else from his mind—even the bit of peace Aubrey had brought to him.
It was just about the saddest thing she’d heard. Aubrey ached for the man as she watched him amble down the hallway toward the elevators. Now that she knew what had happened to him and the loss he’d suffered, she could see that he was walking around broken down to the quick of his soul.
“I can’t believe this.” Danielle sank into the nearest chair in the waiting room and stared at the business card she held in her hand. “I’m too tired to think.”
She looked beyond exhausted, Aubrey thought as she eased into the chair beside her stepsister. Coincidentally, she discovered she had a perfect view of the elevator bank where William was waiting, head bowed, staring at the floor.
He’d jerked away from her. She’d meant to comfort him, and he pulled away as if she were hurting him more. She was embarrassed, yes, but it was nothing compared to the hurt she felt on his behalf.
“That man was William Corey. The photographer.” Danielle stared at the card. “I didn’t even know Jonas knew him. Wait, maybe I did. My brain is a total fog.”
“Did he tell you about the gift?”
“Oh, you mean he wanted to contribute to Jonas’s medical fund, except there isn’t one.” Danielle rubbed her hands over her face, so weary. “I told him about the funds we’re accepting for charity in his name. Oh, and I mentioned the auction fund-raiser thing you and Ava are coordinating with our church.”
Should she tell her about the anniversary gift? Aubrey wasn’t sure at this point that Danielle looked strong enough to take one more blow.
“Mr. Corey was interested in writing a check to Jonas’s medical fund, but I told him I wasn’t able to think about that much right now.” Danielle shrugged. She seemed frayed at the edges, at wit’s end, as if her heart had stopped beating. “I’ve got just about all I can cope with.”
Aubrey put her arm around her stepsister. “Did you get some sleep?”
“I’ll be fine. I—” Danielle shoved the business card in Aubrey’s direction. “I told him you or Ava would be in touch about that donation. It was nice of him, don’t you think?”
“I do. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Aubrey took the card, wrapping her hand around her sister’s. She willed all the sympathy she had into a prayer.
It was hard to know what exactly to pray for. For Jonas to miraculously recover? For Danielle’s marriage and family to be whole and happy, as before? To turn back time so that Jonas would not have been shot? Some things not even God could change. The past was one of those things.
Please, Father, make this come out all right.
But she didn’t see how. All she could see was her sister’s tenuous act of holding things together, and the remembrance of William Corey’s sadness. She could still picture the steel-straight line of his spine and the inherent sorrow that made him seem so distant and impersonal. But his story clung to her like skin.
How sad is this? she thought, wanting to push it all away like an empty plate. If only she could get this ordeal out of all of their lives. She hated dealing with this constant sorrow and sadness. She liked to look at the positive side of life. She hated the heartbreak and woe that had permeated their family and stolen Jonas from his wife and children.
“Are you all right?” Danielle asked in concern; Danielle who always thought of others even when her world was unraveling at the seams.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m just overwhelmed.” Aubrey shrugged. “You know me. I hate that things like this ever happen. I would want there to be no hurt and loss in the world. Just goodness and sunshine for everyone.”
“Sounds like a good deal to me. If only that were true.” Tears brimmed in her dark blue eyes. “What I’d give if we could make that true, but life is a mixed bag of blessings. Some days it’s more than I want to face, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have to.”
A faint bell dinged at the end of the hallway, echoing against the long empty corridor. The light above one of the elevators came on and William Corey moved toward it.
Sympathy tugged at her heart. William looked deeply alone. She watched him wait while a few passengers in the elevator disembarked—Dorrie was among them. She carried a drink carrier and a covered plate, tapping quickly in their direction. But it was the man, lost in shadows, who kept Aubrey’s attention as he entered the elevator and disappeared from her sight.
The impression he’d made on her heart remained.
William listened to the echo of his step in the hospital’s chapel and wondered why he was here. It was as if he had followed his feet. He couldn’t remember making the conscious decision. The chapel had been noted on the main-floor directory and he’d followed the arrows without thought. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what he could possibly do. There was no prayer on earth that could comfort him.
Candles flickered in the front of the nondenominational sanctuary, candles that had been lit in hope and prayer. The stillness of the simple place felt as if it still held the memory of decades of deepest prayers whispered in sorrow. Maybe his were still here, earthbound and unheard, from that dark, desperate night long ago.
I shouldn’t have come here.
He’d thought he was doing the right thing, but now he wasn’t so sure. The online article about Jonas’s shooting was sparse, and he’d come thinking there was some difference he could make. Sure, Aubrey had told him enough of Jonas’s current medical situation to prepare him, but hearing it was another reality entirely. Seeing the look of it on Jonas’s wife’s face was too bleak a reminder.
William knew that look too well, the appearance of exhaustion and desperation. Of what it took to put life on hold to stay at a loved one’s side. There wasn’t enough sleep, not enough hope, not enough love, no matter how hard you tried, to will that loved one well.
The day’s blazing sunshine spilled through two arched stained-glass windows, and the colorful spill of light might be a sign to some who sought comfort in this solemn place. But that comfort and hope had been elusive for him. William’s hand felt empty, as empty as his soul, and coming here had been a mistake. He’d been unable to make any sense of life, or reason behind it. It wasn’t what he wanted to believe. It was simply all he was left with.
The scent of flowers placed on the altar became cloying, a scent-related memory of when he’d knelt here, praying for mercy to save his wife.
It hadn’t happened.
He turned his back to the altar and the cross on the wall, feeling devoid of faith, like a pitcher empty of water, but the pad of approaching footsteps made him hesitate. It was as if the light slanting in thick, nebulous rays through the stained glass brightened when she stepped through the threshold and into the sanctuary.
Aubrey. She recognized him, and their gazes locked. With the way she was haloed by the jeweled light, a hopeful man might think this was a sign that heaven was listening after all.
Chapter Four
“William.” Aubrey blinked but couldn’t quite believe her eyes. The man seemed darker somehow even as he stood in the light. “What are you doing here?”
Okay, duh, obvious. Was there any question why she was twenty-seven and single and doomed to stay that way? Her conversation and social skills could be better. She took a quiet step forward, careful not to disturb the reverence of the sanctuary.
He didn’t answer or acknowledge her obvious question.
“I guess we had the same thing in mind. Prayer,” she added when he continued to look at her without saying a thing. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I can come back later—”
“No.” His baritone boomed like summer thunder. “Don’t go. I was just leaving.”
“Okay.” She remembered how he’d jerked back from her touch in the waiting room. Maybe he was on his way out; maybe he was trying to avoid her.
Way to go, Aubrey. This is where being her twin would come in handy. If she could clone her sister’s personality, she’d know exactly what to say to this man who looked slightly panicked and out of his comfort zone.
She moved aside to give him plenty of room to escape. “I always turn to prayer, too, when I feel lost.”
He held out his hands, palms up, in a helpless gesture. “I didn’t pray. Couldn’t.”
She noticed his gaze slide lower. She put her hand where he would be looking, at her throat, and felt the small gold cross their maternal grandmother had given her. Gran was a deeply religious woman, and that had always given Aubrey courage. “Danielle gave me your card. My sister and I are trying to handle all the donations that are coming in. Jonas is fortunate to have extensive insurance after all, so we’re designating a few charities to donate to in his name. If you’re still interested, then just let me know.”
A single nod, that was all. His face was stone hard, but now she knew the reason he ambled past her as if he didn’t have a heart. No, she thought, a man wouldn’t who’d buried his wife.
“I’ll get back to you about donations, then.” At least she thought that’s what his nod had meant. “This had to be pretty important to you for you to come here in person.”
He hesitated in the doorway. Turned. He didn’t look at her but above her head at the windows radiating light. “It was. I owe Jonas a great debt. Whatever else I may have lost, I still believe in the Golden Rule. In doing right by others.”
He left in silence, without a goodbye. Even the pad of his black-soled shoes hardly made a noise, as if he were more shadow than man. Aubrey knew it was just the artistic part of her, thinking of him that way. In the sanctuary filled with God’s light, she knelt and said a prayer for him first.
Whatever reason God had brought William into their lives, and into her path, she hoped she could do the right thing by him. But as to what that could be, she was clueless. She left that up to the angels as she bowed her head and began to work her way down her prayer list.
“I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”
Aubrey looked up from shelving new inventory at her parents’ Christian bookstore to see her twin dashing down the main aisle toward her. “Ava, you’re twenty-three minutes late. Again.”
“I know it. My bad!” Breathless, she skidded to a stop beside the book cart, dressed in neon-pink from head to toe. “But on the good side, I remembered to bring lunch for you. I did a drive-through at Mr. Paco’s Tacos. Is Katherine in yet?”
“No, she’s staying with Danielle at the hospital this afternoon so Dorrie can get some sleep. Oh, and Spence got a call from Rebecca.”
“Is our wayward stepsister finally on her way home?”
“After a month of missionary work, she says she’s looking forward to the creature comforts of indoor plumbing and air-conditioning.”
There was a lot they didn’t say, but Aubrey knew what Ava was thinking. So many serious issues were hammering hard on their family right now. Spence and Katherine, who both had spoken to their grandmother Whitman on the phone, had concerns about her health. Gran was their mom’s mom, who had decided to snowbird in Arizona and wound up staying there for the past few years. So far away, it wasn’t as if they could be there to help her out.
Then there was this thing with Jonas, and it had all of them running as fast as they could to help Danielle and the kids get through it.
And then there was Rebecca and her not so nice boyfriend, Chris. It had been a good thing for her to be away in Mexico for a chunk of the summer without phone service. But now she was coming back and Aubrey had real concerns—and so did Ava. She could tell by the dark look.
“What happened to boring?” Ava asked as she snatched an armload of books from the cart. “Remember when our lives were so boring all we did was yawn?”
“If I remember correctly, you were complaining you were bored and kept praying for something exciting to happen.”
Ava slid the first book onto a place in the shelf. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’m never praying for something to break up the doldrums again.”
“Be careful what you pray for, huh?” Aubrey teased as she sidled close to her twin and pulled out the book she’d just shelved in the wrong place. “I guess that means this is all your fault.”
“What’s your fault?” Spence strode toward them, glowering, but he was more bark than bite. “And you’re late. Again.”
“I know.” Ava shrugged as if it was no biggie. “I’m just lucky I could make it at all.”
Spence’s left eyebrow shot up in a furious arch. “We’re truly lucky you graced us with your presence. Aubrey, did she misshelf that book?”
“Not now.” Aubrey easily slipped the volume in where it belonged. “Ava’s holding down two jobs, and helping out Dani. You could be more flexible.”
“I could be, but I’m not going to.” He almost said it without a hint of humor.
She wasn’t fooled. “Go back to your computer. We’ve got it covered.”
“You’ll watch the front?”
“There isn’t a single customer in the store. Stop worrying.” She often thought that instead of giving her worries up to God, she’d just give them to Spence. He wasn’t happy unless he was worrying over something. “Ava brought Mr. Paco’s Tacos nachos.”
Not amused by the rhyme, Spence jammed his hands into the pockets of his perfectly creased trousers. “No food near the books.” He scowled extra hard as if to make up for the ghost of his smile and stormed off.
They watched him go. Aubrey didn’t know what to do with their taciturn older brother. She knew Ava didn’t, either.
Ava was the first to speak. “Do you know what he needs?”
“Exactly. A girlfriend. But how impossible is that?”
“I’ve been praying.” Ava had an undeniable gift for prayer. “Just like I’ve been praying for you, too, so brace yourself.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. I can’t imagine some guy falling for me.”
“What kind of talk is that? If I can break my date-only-duds pattern, then you can break this no-dating-ever habit you’ve got going.” Her two-carat engagement diamond chose that moment to sparkle as she shelved a book. “It’s all about positive thinking. That, and a lot of prayer. Oh, and the right man coming along at the exact same moment.”
“We both know how hard that is to accomplish.” Aubrey didn’t mind that she didn’t have a boyfriend who was so deeply in love he couldn’t wait to marry her. Really. Okay, so she did. “Anyway, I love my life the way it is.”
“Okay, but that’s not going to stop me from praying hard for you.” Ava’s cell chimed a cheerful tune and she abandoned her shelving to search through her pockets for her phone. She studied the screen and brightened like a star in the heavens. “It’s Brice.”
Her fiancé. Aubrey pulled the book Ava had misshelved and whispered, “Go into the break room. Go on.”
“Thanks. I owe ya. Hello, there, handsome.” Ava’s smile was 100 percent pure joy as she skipped away, answering the call. Her voice, filled with love and happiness, faded away as she disappeared from sight.
Aubrey hated to admit it, but no amount of Ava’s praying was going to help. She was looking thirty in the face and had never been on a date. It wasn’t as if she was likely to start now. She was a wallflower and doomed to stay that way. She didn’t mind, really. Think of all the blessings she already had in her life. A big loving family. Her left leg, which had healed miraculously enough for her to walk. She had her art and her horse and a good life. She didn’t have any business regretting the blessings she didn’t have.
And why did her thoughts return to William?
Call her curious. She happened to have a few books to shelve in the next aisle. She’d been in such a hurry, she hadn’t taken the time to check out whether they had any of William’s photography books in stock. Maybe now was as good a time as any to see, with her lunch break coming up and no one in the store.
She knelt down and found two of William’s books. One was a big coffee-table type collection full of rich, colorful photos. She took the other, a smaller collection with text from Scripture, and stacked them on the cart. After all, she’d need something to read while she ate lunch, right?
By the time she’d shelved the first row of books on the cart, Ava had come back into sight, grinning from ear to ear. It was a good thing to see amidst all the sadness and worry in their family.
“Brice is going to do my afternoon deliveries. Whew.” Ava was working two jobs to keep her bakery business afloat. “Oh, how about that? You pulled one of William Corey’s books.”
“I was curious. I mean, I’ve seen his stuff before.” Aubrey shrugged as if it was no big deal. The question was, why did it feel like a big deal? She hardly knew the man. “I just wanted to look again, after meeting him.”
“Danielle said he came to the hospital.” Ava stopped to flip open the book. “I had no idea. I guess Jonas knew him from some distant tie to the united churches charities. He’s a big donor, I guess.”
“I’m not surprised.” Aubrey thought of the story William had told her, and the truth he’d trusted her with. He’d struck her as a deeply private person, and she didn’t feel comfortable saying anything to Ava.
She looked over her twin’s shoulder. The first photograph was one of his most collected works, a subtle sunrise scene over the craggy amethyst mountains in Glacier National Park. She recognized the scene because she’d been to Glacier a few times. The lake beneath the mountains glowed as if each rippling wave of water had been painted with rosy, opalescent paint. The photograph seemed to glow with a life—and hope—of its own.
It was hard to reconcile with the man in the chapel. A man who looked as if he’d had all the hope torn out of him. She didn’t know why she ached with sympathy for him. Maybe because tragedy had hit her family, too. Maybe. But somehow her sympathy for William felt more powerful than that. As if by sharing his story, she’d seen more of the private man, the tender places within that no one knew.
“Talk about beautiful stuff.” Ava turned page after page. “It’s a shame he doesn’t work anymore. I’ve heard it’s hard to get hold of some of his prints. They’re all limited editions or something.”
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