All God's Promises (A Prairie Heritage Book 7)

by Vikki Kestell

  When they finished, Søren said to Max, “Why don’t you tell Kari what you told me upstairs, Max?”

  Max shot Søren a look of panic. “I don’t want to, Papa.”

  “I know. It’s uncomfortable, but you need to be honest, okay?”

  Max dithered until Søren cleared his throat.

  “All right. I will.” Max looked at Kari, tears glistening in his eyes. “You said you loved us, Kari, but I don’t know. I don’t think you really do.”

  Kari, tears in her own eyes, took his hand. “I promise that I do love you, Max. But feelings cannot be everything in this life, can they? Is it more important to follow our feelings or do what is right? Is it more important to follow our feelings or follow God?”

  Max’s chin dropped to his chest. “God.”

  “Please look at me, Max?”

  The boy sighed and glanced at Kari and then away. He slouched in his chair.

  “Max. Let me tell you what I know for certain.”

  He risked another look at Kari.

  “I know for certain that I love your papa. I know that. I know that I love you, too. I know I would like to marry your papa and I would like to be your mom.”

  “You-you would?” He sounded wary but hopeful.

  “Yes, but we have some obstacles. Do you know what obstacles are?”

  “Um. Things in the way?”

  “Yes, exactly. Things in the way. Let’s talk about the things that are in the way, shall we?”

  Max looked at Søren, who nodded. “Okay,” Max whispered.

  “All right. For starters, I have a lot of money. The fact is, I’m rich. Pretty stinking rich.”

  Max’s brows shot toward the ceiling and he sat up straight. “You are? You mean, you have more than that fancy house in New Orleans?”

  Kari shrugged. “Yes. More by a long shot—but it isn’t all, say, cash money that you keep in your wallet or in the bank. Most of it is in businesses and factories and hotels and buildings and apartments and stocks and bonds. And, well, stuff.”

  Kari grimaced inside. Stuff like oil and gas wells. Mines. And diamonds and gold and platinum.

  “Wow.” Max looked unsure now. “But why is being rich a problem?”

  Kari thought about how to explain it. “I have prayed a lot about all the ‘stuff’ I own, Max, all the things God has given me. When I prayed, I felt that the Lord told me I was to learn how to take care of the things he entrusted to me. In particular, I was to make sure they are used in right ways—ways that glorify him.

  “Unfortunately, all those ‘things’ can’t be left to run themselves or mind themselves. Even when you hire people to run things, you have to make sure that they are doing their jobs right.

  “As an example, I own a factory outside Houston, Texas. When I went there last April to check up on it, I found that the factory manager was treating the workers unfairly and making changes I could not approve of. Why? He was doing those things so he could say that the plant was saving money and then pay himself a big cash bonus. I couldn’t let him treat my workers like that, so I had to step in and stop him.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, I fired him.”

  Max’s eyes widened. So did Søren’s.

  “So you can see that I have a great many responsibilities, can’t you?”

  Max nodded slowly.

  “On the other hand, your papa has big responsibilities, too. He owns this farm and works very hard to keep it running. He can’t up and leave whenever he wants to, can he?”

  Max shook his head slowly. “No . . .”

  “So these are obstacles, things that are in the way. I can’t be here most of the time, and he can’t be in New Orleans most of the time. That’s our problem. What do you think the answer to our problem is?”

  Max’s sad expression deepened. “I don’t know.”

  “We don’t know either, Max. I’m hoping things will change for us in the future, but I’m not sure how yet. In any event, I do know that I love you.”

  Kari lightened her tone at the end, hoping to tease a smile from Max. “I even love your dad.”

  It worked. The boy ducked his head and grinned. “Bet you love me more!”

  “Weeeelll . . .”

  Søren’s chin snapped up. “Hey!”

  Kari and Max pounced on Søren at the same time. “Hay is for horses!”

  They laughed easily then, and Kari was relieved. A little.

  “But . . .” Max screwed up his face, trying to put his thoughts into words. “Well, why can’t you live here part of the time?”

  “You mean, why couldn’t we get married and I travel back and forth between here and New Orleans?” Kari didn’t dare look at Søren—since she had espoused that solution more than once.

  “Yeah. Like that.”

  “If we were to do that—and I say if—I would need to be in New Orleans most of the time. Really, for the foreseeable future, I could only be here one weekend a month and a couple of weeks out of the year, like a vacation.”

  Max frowned. “Well, wouldn’t that be better than nothing? And we could go there once in a while, like we did that Christmas, right?”

  Kari didn’t answer. She was biting her lip.

  Out of the mouth of babes?

  Søren cleared his throat again. “Kari and I have already discussed that option, Max. I don’t think it’s a good idea. That’s not how married people should live.”

  Max sulked. “Well, seems like you could figure something out. She’s got that big pile of money and all.”

  Kari swallowed a giggle.

  Later Kari couldn’t resist goading Søren. “Interesting how Max came up with the same ideas I proposed two years ago, don’t you think?”

  Søren stuffed his hands in his pockets. “If he hadn’t been with me the last two days, I would think you had put those ideas in his head.”

  “Why, Søren Maximillian Thoresen!”

  —

  KARI’S WEEK IN RIVERBEND FLEW BY. Since Ilsa was away, it wasn’t right for Kari to stay at the farmhouse, so she continued staying at the hotel down the freeway. And while the contractors poured the foundation for her house, Søren pored over the architectural drawings.

  “Four bedrooms. Two baths. All on one level. It’s nice. And big”

  “I was advised not to build small.” A distant ringing caused Kari to turn her head.

  “What’s that?” Søren asked.

  “Oh! I have a mobile phone now. It’s in my rental car.”

  Kari ran to answer it. She stayed on the call from Scarlett for twenty minutes.

  “Sorry. That was my associate, Scarlett.”

  “Problem?”

  “No, well, she was confirming something. We, uh, I’m moving Michaels Enterprises into our own offices in December.”

  “Michaels Enterprises? What’s that?”

  “I had my last name changed. Changed to what it should be: Michaels. And I’m bringing everything I own under that umbrella. Some entities will retain the Granger name, but the fewer the better, in my estimation.”

  “And you’re expanding? Moving into new offices?”

  Kari met his questioning eyes. “Yes. I can do a better job of managing my holdings if I have a complete staff and space of my own. I own the building we’re moving into. Scarlett, Oskar, and my new human resources manager are overseeing the office renovations and decor. Scarlett, er, wanted to confirm my paint and paper choices for my office bathroom.”

  Søren looked away, put his hands on his hips, and took a long, deep breath that raised his chest and shoulders. He let it out slowly.

  “Okay. I get it.” The words were mechanical, resigned.

  “If . . . if I get things in order under this new management strategy, I think it will, in the long run, work better for us,” Kari whispered.

  Søren nodded and turned back to the plans. “How long does Chuck estimate until the house is finished?”

  “At least six weeks. He needs to
get the roof and exterior walls done before it gets much colder.”

  “Then he’d better get a move on.”

  Søren studied the plans further. “Two-car garage?”

  “Yeah. Again, I was advised.”

  “Sure. So, will you be coming back in six weeks to do the final walkthrough?”

  Kari’s lips parted in surprise. “I-I actually hadn’t thought about that.” She scanned around the property, mentally checking her calendar, wondering how she would fit another three days into her schedule. “I am so overbooked as it is. The, um, new offices open December 2, which is right about the same time.”

  She glanced back up at Søren. “You were hoping I could come back when the house was finished?”

  Søren’s answer cut deep. “I don’t hope for much anymore where you are concerned, Kari.”

  The blood drained from her face. “I see.”

  He knew he’d hurt her and tried to backpedal. “Since you can’t make the trip, would you like me to do the final walkthrough for you?”

  Kari was still blinking, trying to shake off the sting of his reproof.

  He touched her arm. “I would like to do it for you, Kari. I would like to do something—anything—for you.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes, I would. Chuck will deliver a well-built home, but I’ll ensure that all the finish work is to your specifications. I’d be pleased to do this for you.”

  “Thank you.” Kari nodded slowly, her voice sounding small in her own ears.

  “Søren?”

  “Yes?”

  “What Max said. I heard what you told him, but could you ever see us, is there a way you could live with that, er, arrangement, for at least the first couple of years?”

  He sighed. “I’ll think about it some more.”

  Kari’s heart pounded. “And you’ll pray?”

  “More than you know.”

  “All right. I’ll pray, too.”

  ~~**~~

  Chapter 23

  THE MOMENT KARI RETURNED TO NEW ORLEANS, she was again caught up in office renovations and staffing issues on top of her already challenging schedule. She, Scarlett, and Bettina attended end-of-year management meetings across the city and state and into Mississippi, Alabama, and Texas.

  Kari was pleased when Søren began calling her on a weekly basis again. However, after the first two calls, she detected a difference: They were having difficulty connecting over the phone in the same spiritually intimate manner they had when Kari was in RiverBend.

  “Is something wrong, Søren?” Kari finally demanded, even though she figured it was her preoccupation with the launch of Michaels Enterprises. She was surprised by his response.

  “I don’t know as anything is wrong, exactly,” he answered. “I’ve been praying about us—as I promised—but something is holding me back. Each time I pray, I jump ahead in my thoughts to next spring.”

  “Next spring?”

  “It’s as though the Lord is telling me to wait and be patient. Not to push or make any plans until then. So I guess we should . . . back off a little.”

  He couldn’t see Kari nodding slowly. Maybe by next spring my crazy life will have calmed down.

  “All right. Perhaps you’re right. Let’s keep in touch, but we won’t try to force anything until next spring,” she answered.

  Then Søren surprised her. “Um, do you have plans for Thanksgiving? You are more than welcome to come here—if you can pull yourself away.”

  Thanksgiving?

  Preparations for Michaels Enterprises’ move to its new offices in Decatur Towers were taking every moment of her time. She had no plans to take a single day off between now and then.

  “Um, actually—”

  “Never mind. It’s okay. Well, next spring then.” He said goodbye and hung up before Kari could respond.

  After that, Kari scarcely noticed when their calls became shorter and less frequent. She spent Thanksgiving again with Clover and Lorene, but returned to work the next day.

  So did most of her staff—the move was only days away and the devil was in the details.

  The furniture arrived and the movers assembled it. Kari’s IT personnel installed computer networking cables, set up the computers themselves, and connected a myriad of peripherals—monitors, printers, copiers, scanners, and fax machines. The phone installers were right behind them.

  From November 30 through the first weeks of December, Kari spent ten hours a day in their new offices. She fielded questions and interviews from the New Orleans business media, and took time getting to know her new staff.

  Kari was right there with her staff when her two-person IT staff trained them on email, interdepartmental messaging, and the various software packages they had installed. In addition, Kari, Scarlett, and Laurel trained on the HR software. Kari left the accounting and payroll software to Scarlett and the comptroller.

  Kari felt like she lived at the office, and Scarlett was drowning in her own responsibilities. Kari started to perceive that she needed some kind of internal “chief of staff,” someone who could take hold of the reins so that Kari and Scarlett could do their first job, which was providing oversight to Kari’s many holdings.

  Oskar volunteered. After consulting with Melanie, Kari had an office set up for him. She allowed him in the office three days a week, no more than four hours a day. Even those few hours made a world of difference.

  She began to see the wheels of their new organization begin to turn. And, slowly, she watched as cohesion formed between her staff.

  —

  A WEEK INTO DECEMBER, Kari received a padded envelope in the mail. The return address was unfamiliar but located in Nebraska. Inside, Kari found two sets of keys.

  Dear Miss Michaels,

  Please find enclosed the keys to your new home. The garage door openers are in a drawer in the kitchen. It was a pleasure to build this home for you. Let us know if we can be of further service.

  Sincerely,

  Chuck Haroldson

  AND THEN IT WAS MONDAY OF CHRISTMAS WEEK. Christmas Eve was Friday and many in her staff would make a four-day weekend of it.

  They more than deserve it, Kari thought, but that weekend loomed before her eyes—three long and empty days.

  “What are you doing for Christmas, Ruth?” Kari tried to keep her voice casual. Nonchalant. She needn’t have worried; Ruth was caught up in and distracted with her own plans.

  “The usual two weeks in New York with Amanda and her brood. I fly out tomorrow. Those four grands are precious but, boy! How they wear me out.”

  “Of course!” Kari made sure she said nothing to distract her friend. “Have a wonderful time.”

  “I complain about how they tire me, but to tell you the truth, our new ministry is more demanding than anything I’ve ever done. Two weeks away from all that pressure will be the refreshing I need.”

  Kari received enthusiastic weekly reports on Albuquerque’s Palmer House. She knew how quickly the program was moving ahead and the good fruit it was already bearing. She was glad for Ruth to take a break.

  “Let’s have you come for a visit the end of January,” Kari suggested. “I’ll make us a spa weekend so you can recover from the grands.”

  “Cookie, you have a deal!”

  Kari was laughing when they hung up.

  And then she realized nothing had changed.

  I’ll be spending another Christmas alone.

  Lord?

  —

  KARI’S INTERNAL CLOCK WOKE HER EARLY on Christmas morning. She wandered around the house, ending up with coffee at her desk with her Bible—like any ordinary workday. After she read the Christmas story in Luke, she called Søren and Max.

  Max answered. “We’re just sitting down to breakfast, Kari,” he told her. “Can we call you later?”

  “Of course.”

  She got another cup of coffee and read on in Luke. After she’d read several chapters and done a few word searches in her concordance, she p
rayed. She prayed for each staff member by name and prayed for Ruth and her family. She prayed for her friends in New Orleans—Clover and Lorene, Oskar and Melanie, Owen and Mercy. She prayed for Søren, Ilsa, and Max.

  When she finished, she reached for her briefcase. From habit.

  She slowly withdrew her hand. “Lord, if I didn’t know better, if I didn’t know you’d called me to this work, I’d say my life was getting a tad out of balance.”

  Max called back. He was enthusiastic over the skateboard she’d sent to him. “Dad says we’ll take it to the church later today and I can practice in the parking lot!”

  Kari mentally smacked herself on the forehead. Duh! Søren doesn’t have anywhere on the farm where Max can ride a skateboard! What was I thinking?

  Søren and Ilsa took turns talking to her next. Kari apologized over the skateboard.

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” Søren ribbed her. “I’ll be spending hours at any random piece of asphalt or concrete he picks.” But Kari could feel he was teasing and relaxed.

  Later, after deciding not to do any work because it was Christmas, she turned on the radio instead and listened to a Christmas service broadcast.

  “Especially during the holidays, it is possible to be out of balance while doing exactly what God has called you to do,” one commentator stated.

  Kari heaved a sigh and muttered, “Got it. Message received, Lord! So now, I’m something of a workaholic? It would sure be nice if you’d tell me how to get off this hamster wheel.”

  She took a nap Christmas afternoon and watched a movie that evening. On Sunday, she went to church and joined her friends for brunch.

  But at the end of the day, she was restless. Antsy.

  —

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, KARI DROVE HERSELF TO WORK, determined to put the loneliness of the holiday behind her. Her new offices were closed, all the staff out until Tuesday.

  The lone security guard who let her in said nothing, but his expression betrayed his surprise at seeing her.