by Carol James
She stood and gently tugged on his hand. “Let’s go. We don’t have any deadlines for tomorrow, so we can sleep late in the morning.”
As he stood, a soft smile covered his face. “Sounds good, but what about one last dance?”
As he drew her into his arms, everything was right. She leaned against him and remembered. “Weren’t you about to tell me something when our dinner arrived?”
He tightened his embrace. “Yes.” He leaned his head on top of hers as the music continued.
“Well?”
“Katherine, there’s something I’ve got to tell you. I want to wait, but I can’t.” Drawing away he grasped both her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes.
The vulnerability from earlier today had returned. Whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. She squeezed his hands and smiled. “It’s OK.”
He took a deep breath and then began. “Katherine, I know I’m not the man of your dreams. I’m sure I don’t have all the qualities you would want in a husband. But I’m working on it.”
Her heart pounded throughout her entire body. “Sam, I...”
“Please, let me finish.” He leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers. “You know Brad and I have been doing some studying together, and I’m beginning to realize just how off track my life has been. All these years, I focused on the wrong things. But now, life is finally beginning to make sense. And, Katherine, I’m telling you this now, so you can be ready. When I get it all figured out, I’m going to ask you to marry me. I love you more than you will ever know, Katy Beth.”
She’d heard similar words from men before, but she had never wanted to hear them as badly as she’d wanted to hear them from him. She melted against him and said the words she’d spoken to only one other man. But this time she said them because she wanted to and not because she was expected to. “I love you, too.”
~*~
Sam dropped onto his bed. He hadn’t been man enough to do it. And then after he’d told her how he felt, she’d told him she loved him, too. Shocker. He sure hadn’t expected that—not this soon, anyway. She definitely cared for him. Her kiss had told him that.
He’d always gotten what he really wanted out of life, so he’d known he’d get her, too, eventually. He just hadn’t expected it this early in the game.
All his life he’d been driven. He’d told himself over and over again if he’d reach the next milestone, he’d be satisfied. But with each conquest came an emptiness followed by another goal to be attained. Today he was at the top of the list. He’d thought if he could find Beth again and win her love, the deep yearnings he’d felt would be quenched. There was nothing else he wanted more in life.
Over these last few weeks he’d been happier than he’d been in years. And tonight should be the happiest moment of his life. Yet, still something was missing. An empty corner in his heart, unreached by the love and joy he felt at this moment, still quietly begged to be filled. Surely as her love for him grew, the emptiness would disappear.
And if not, maybe he’d have to accept that the peace and wholeness he craved were unattainable. No. He’d never compromised his goals, and he never would.
So maybe this is what Brad had meant when he’d said there was a void in his heart only God could fill.
18
Closing her Bible and her notebook, Katherine snuggled back against the canvas cushion of the redwood lounge chair on her balcony and gazed at the understated beauty before her. A soft, gray mist blanketed the river below and spilled over into the adjacent canyon, obscuring the surrounding landscape and transforming the tree-covered mounds into mere suggestions of their physical realities. A pink glow barely tinged the eastern horizon, heralding the coming of a new day.
She took a sip of the pomegranate tea she’d made a few minutes earlier when she’d decided to have her devotion on the balcony. Joy, not sleep, had been her companion last night. A few weeks ago, after their blind date, she could have never guessed the abrupt turn into uncharted territory her life would take.
But deep inside, woven together with the joy, laid a single thread of fear. If Sam had asked her to marry him last night, she wasn’t sure she could have said anything other than yes. The possibility that her feelings for him would cause her to make such a life-altering decision in a seemingly careless manner scared her. This was not the Katherine who’d stayed in the security of the boat for so many years.
Yet entwining itself with the thread of fear was another tiny thread—one of peace. The focal passage of this morning’s devotion had been those verses about trusting God rather than trying to do the impossible—understanding His thoughts and His ways. She had stepped out onto the waves, and she was definitely trusting. And Sam...as he’d said last night, he was working on changing.
Every book about marriage she’d ever read and every singles conference she’d ever attended always stressed one thing—don’t marry someone with the idea he will change or you can change him. But the more she was with Sam, the more she loved the person he was, and the less she wanted him to change. Except in one area—his faith.
Considering a possible future with a man who would be her lifelong partner and the father of her children, a man who should know her more intimately than any other person on earth, but who could never understand her deepest love or share what was most important to her, was an impossibility. A definite deal-breaker.
Time. Father, we just need some time.
An entire chorus of birds welcomed the coming of the day as the pink band on the horizon deepened. She walked to the edge of the balcony and rested her arms on the dew-covered railing. Her soul sang a song of gratitude as she waited for the eminent gift from her Father. Morning, when new life—fresh and full of promise—pushed away the darkness of night and restored her soul. Seeing the glorious creation before her as a new day emerged was worth any loss of sleep early rising caused. Thank You, Father.
Sudden movement at the far end of the balcony grabbed her attention, and Katherine sprang away from the railing back toward the door to her room. A snake of some sort was slowly creeping, no, descending from the balcony above hers. She placed one hand over her mouth to keep from screaming and madly groped for the door handle with the other—but then stopped.
Something about that snake wasn’t right. She turned back toward the railing to take a closer look. The snake was about eight to ten feet long and made of black terrycloth with a knot tied in the middle of its body. A small, white piece of paper was safety-pinned to its most southern end. Whoever was in the room above her had tied together the belts from the hotel bathrobes, pinned a note to them, and was using them as some sort of primitive mode of communication.
Only one person she knew would do something like this.
She walked over to the snake and unpinned the note.
Good morning, Katy Beth. I’m in the mood for a walk and hope you’ll go with me. Call me when you get this.
Sam
She stuck her head out over the railing and turned her face upward.
Sam was tying the northern end of the “snake” to his balcony railing.
“You almost scared me to death, you know.”
As he leaned forward, his gaze found hers, and he smiled. “Well, good morning, early bird.”
His mouth continued to move, but none of the words reached her ears. The sight of him overcame all her other senses. He was dressed in soccer shorts. Soccer shorts...that was it. No shirt. He might have had on some sort of shoes, but his feet were hidden from view. His face was covered with a day’s beard growth, and he looked amazingly handsome.
“…but I didn’t want to call or text in case you were still asleep. So, what do you say?”
She cleared her throat. “Say? Say about what?” Lots of things to say were whirling around in her mind—none of them at all appropriate at this point in their relationship.
He shook his head. “Do you want to go on a walk before breakfast or not?”
“I’d
love to.”
“Last one in the lobby has to buy root beer floats at Dairy Delite.”
“Sam...” He was gone.
She ran into her room, pulled on some shorts, a T-shirt, and hiking sandals. Then she jumped into the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair and was done. Three minutes. That had to be a record.
After grabbing her phone and key-card, she quietly closed the door, ran on tiptoe down the hall toward the elevator, and pushed the “down” button. The red light above the door showed that the elevator was on the sixth floor, she was on the third, and Sam was on the fourth in the room right above hers, she now knew. The light above the five blinked on for a second and then above the four. As long as it didn’t stop she’d be OK. The light above the three blinked on as the bell dinged and the door opened. Empty.
She bolted between the doors and pushed the “down” button and then the “close-door” button in rapid succession. She’d done it. She’d finally beat him.
~*~
Sam leaned against the same column as he had last night and smiled as the doors drew apart. The elevator bell dinged in the lobby. The look on her face in a few seconds would be priceless.
Her face was alive with excitement...until she saw his and shock set in. “Looks as if you’ll be buying the floats, Katy Beth.”
“Sam, this is impossible.”
He loved getting the best of her. She needed a dose of that every now and then.
“How did you...?”
“Seems there’re these old-fashioned things called stairs.” He threw a backpack over his left shoulder and held out his right hand. “Ready?”
As her fingers grasped his, she shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you, Sam Tucker.”
“Sure you will.” He squeezed her hand and led her down the hall and out the back door. “Come on, or we’ll miss it.”
Sometime in the sleepless dark of last night, he had decided exactly where they needed to go this morning and exactly what needed to happen when they got there. They passed the swimming pool area, empty at this early hour, walked around the fire pit, and stepped through a narrow break in the privet hedge. As the pink strip on the eastern horizon slowly widened, he turned west. If they hurried, they should make it in time.
The path snaked between trees and over rocky rises until the hotel was no longer visible behind them. She was uncharacteristically quiet—no questions or seeming concerns about where they were going or why. His diligence was apparently paying off. He’d earned a measure of her trust, but exactly how much remained to be determined. In a few minutes, he should know.
Making a sharp turn to the right, the path abruptly ended, a fence serving as the only barrier between them and the canyon below.
“Whoa!” She dug in her heels and pulled back on his hand as she read the sign nailed to one of the fence posts, “‘Public access beyond this point strictly prohibited.’”
He looked straight in her eyes. “Trust me?”
The immediate yes he’d hoped for, but absolutely not planned on, didn’t come.
“I don’t know. Maybe...”
“Trust me. You’ve only got a few seconds to decide before it’ll be too late, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”
“It better be.”
He carefully climbed over the fence and then turned and offered his hand.
“Sam, I’m really uncomfortable doing this. Didn’t you read the sign? ‘Public access prohibited.’”
“No, I didn’t read the sign. You did. Besides, this isn’t public. It’s private—just you and me. And no one’s here monitoring us, anyway.”
She gripped his hand, as he helped her over the fence.
“I must be crazy. I can’t believe we’re breaking the law,” she muttered.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a law, KB, more of a suggestion for our safety. We’ll be careful.”
Sam led her toward the edge of the cliff to where a rock platform jutted out over the canyon below them. He eased down onto the small promontory and then helped her as she followed him. Facing west, he inched to the edge, placed his arm around her, and pulled her close. The fragrance of last night’s cologne had softened and become a part of her. “You’re awfully quiet,” he whispered.
“I’m awfully scared,” she whispered back. “It’s too high. I want to go back.”
As he kissed the top of her head, he tightened his embrace. “I won’t let anything happen. Just watch.”
The sun had risen enough for its rays to barely clear the horizon behind them and paint the tops of the hills across the canyon in copper. As the sun continued its ascent, the copper turned golden and washed down deeper into the canyon until the predawn mist disappeared and the river below caught fire. The light had chased away the darkness.
The sight was even more beautiful than he’d remembered—maybe because he was sharing it with her.
She leaned into him. “Oh, Sam. It’s breathtaking. Thank you for making me break the rules.”
Expectant, she turned her face up to him, and he placed his lips on hers. As he drew away, she leaned more deeply into him and every inch of his body ached for more, but no. Time to chase away some more darkness. Her face was rosy in the morning light.
Leading her away from the edge, they sat, resting their backs against the cliff. He opened the backpack. “Hey, love, I need to share something with you.” She was not the first woman he’d called that, but this was the first time he’d really meant it. He reached into the backpack and pulled out the notebook. “This.”
Her expression deepened as she sat up and crossed her legs. She was obviously embarrassed. “How did you get this?”
“I found it in your driveway one day when I brought you home. I thought Cassie had lost it so I picked it up to give it back to her. But then I opened the cover and saw your name. Here.” He held it out, but she didn’t take it.
“Did you read it?” The tone of her voiced pleaded with him to say no.
When he had read through it, he hadn’t planned to return it to her. He’d thought she’d never know. “I, uh, not exactly. Well, not all of it...Yes, most of it.”
She took it from him with one hand and then gently ran the fingertips of the other across the cover as if the notebook was some fragile treasure that needed to be handled with extreme care. To her it was obviously more than only ink and paper. It was a part of her and her history.
“And did you laugh?”
“Laugh? Of course not.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “I thought it was kind of...cute. And very insightful. Both thought-provoking and encouraging at the same time.”
“Encouraging?”
He held out his hand for the notebook. “May I?”
When she handed it back to him, he slowly paged through the seminar notes until he came to the first “List.” He scooted closer to her so they could look at the page together and pointed to the last attribute on the bottom. “Nice car...check.” Then he moved up the list. “Captain of the football team...check. Tall. How tall is ‘Tall?’”
“Taller than me. Check.” She grinned and patted his leg. “Remember what Juanita said. No Great Danes and Chihuahuas here.”
“Blue eyes. Check.”
She linked her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’ve never heard these read out loud before, but now that I do, it’s kind of embarrassing. They all sound so shallow. And there was a time in my life when these qualities were what I prayed for in a husband because I thought they were important. How silly.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, Katy Beth. Growth is part of life. Priorities change over the years—hopefully, anyway—and we often find what we thought we wanted out of life may not be the right or best thing for us. Besides, those were some of the parts I thought were cute.”
He leaned his head on hers and took a deep breath. Time had come. He’d actually prayed about this last night when he couldn’t sleep. Or in reality, he hadn’t been able
to sleep because he had been praying about it. At first, he’d wondered if God would even listen after all these years, but then, about sunrise, an illogical sense of peace had gently calmed his heart. He needed to do what he knew was right, and God would take care of everything else.
He flipped over to another list closer to the back and held the notebook so that both of them could see. “Here’s some more stuff. Sense of humor? A good provider?”
“Check on the first. Don’t really know about the second one.”
“Let’s just say I’ve gotten some wise advice over the years and made some good investments.” He could never touch a soccer ball again and be financially secure. “My job comes with a lot of perks, and my lifestyle is pretty simple.”
She sat up, took the notebook from him, and turned over a few more pages. Her fingers followed the list and stopped part way down the page. “Wants children.” As her gaze left the page and found his, her face flushed red. “You’ve never said whether or not you want a family.”
“Check, check, and double-check.”
“Kindhearted and compassionate.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Yes, except for the times you’re mean to me.”
“Mean to you? I would never be mean to you. Give me one example.”
“Just one? How about when you almost got us killed when you forced me to learn to shift your car? Or worse than that, you made me beg for a kiss?”
“You can’t imagine how hard it was to wait that long for a kiss.” He gently eased her back until she was lying flat, and then he pulled up on one elbow above her. Here in this private spot, it would be so easy to relax and let things go farther than they should. But he couldn’t. He had to stick with the game plan. “Love, there’s something I want to tell you.” As he quickly kissed her on the forehead, his shorts pocket vibrated. He should have left his phone in the room. He’d ignore it.
“You want to get that?”
“What?”
“Your phone. I felt it vibrate.”
“Not really. I’m busy.”
“You’d better check it just in case there’s an emergency. It’s awful early for a social call.”
