Not Until You (Hope Springs Book 3)

by Valerie M. Bodden

  Violet,

  I am sorry for everything. I want you to know how much you mean to me. That’s why I need to leave, so that you can have the future you deserve with someone who deserves you. I wish you only all the best.

  Love,

  Nate

  PS Please take care of Tony. The key is in the super-secret hiding spot.

  Violet lowered the note, her heart thudding a rhythm of regret against her ribs. How had she let the one man who made her alive again leave without a fight?

  Chapter 39

  It was better this way.

  Nate had repeated the same thing to himself every ten minutes the entire bus ride, but he still hadn’t managed to convince himself.

  Leaving without saying goodbye to Violet was easier, but it had left him feeling hollowed out inside.

  And the feeling only grew as he thought of the look Tony had given him when he’d shut him in his kennel. He’d miss that dog, but there was no way to bring him on the bus. And he trusted that Violet would take good care of him.

  Maybe being with Tony would remind her of him from time to time.

  The man in the seat next to Nate let out a honking snore, and Nate pressed closer to the window. He never would have guessed he’d miss Leah’s bubbling chatter―the same chatter that had annoyed him on his way to Hope Springs.

  Had that really only been two and half months ago? Somehow, in that time he’d gone from resenting his move to Hope Springs to falling in love with the place. He hated the thought of all his friends finding out what he’d done. Hated to imagine what they’d all think of him now. But Violet had made it pretty clear when she’d walked out of his apartment. She didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

  He didn’t know why he’d let a tiny part of himself hope that she’d be able to see past what he’d done. That she’d see the man he could be, the man she made him want to be. He should have known it was too much to ask. He couldn’t blame her for not giving it.

  Nate let his eyes drift over the now empty cornfields. He probably shouldn’t have bought the ticket. There was no way Dad was going to let him in the house.

  But when the woman behind the bus station counter had asked where he was going, the name of his hometown had just come out.

  They were only twenty minutes or so away now, and Nate’s stomach had become one of those rides at the fair that made little kids get off and promptly barf. He tried to come up with a strategy to get past Dad’s objections.

  But by the time the bus pulled into the station, he was just as empty as he’d been when he left Hope Springs.

  He found his way to the Uber he’d ordered from the bus and gave the driver his former home address. He’d have to knock on the door and wing it.

  The drive went way too fast, and when the Uber driver pulled into the driveway of his childhood home, Nate just sat. It looked almost the same, although the plum tree in the front yard was larger now, and they’d painted the door a bold blue.

  “We’re here,” the driver pointed out.

  “Yeah.” But still Nate sat and stared at the house. For the past seven years, he’d dreamed of the moment he’d walk inside again. But now that the time was here, he wasn’t sure he could do it.

  “Look, I don’t mean to rush you or anything, but I have another . . .” The driver circled his hands.

  “Oh, sorry.” Nate opened his door and forced his feet to the pavement, grabbing his suitcase and wheeling it behind him. “Thanks.”

  He’d barely slammed the door before the car was gone.

  Nate hesitated. This was it. He either walked up to the door or―

  No.

  There was no or. He was going to do this. Right here and right now.

  His feet carried him across the driveway, along the path in front of the house, and up the porch steps. It felt odd to reach for the doorbell when he’d opened this door a million times in his life.

  But this wasn’t his home anymore.

  He pressed the button and listened as the bell resounded through the house.

  He found himself needing to pray as he waited, but the words wouldn’t come. He’d have to hope God got the message anyway.

  He tried to peer in through the sidelight, but it was privacy glass, and he could only see faint shadows behind it. Was that someone coming toward the door?

  Nate’s heart pounded in his ears.

  This was it.

  He took a step back, staring at the fine cracks in the wood of the porch. He couldn’t bring himself to lift his head as the door opened.

  “Oh my― Nate!”

  His head whipped up when he heard his sister’s voice. But the moment his eyes fell on her, he dropped his suitcase and sagged against the doorframe.

  “Oh no, Kayla. I’m so sorry.” The words were strangling him.

  How could he have done this to her?

  Because of him, his beautiful, vibrant sister, the one who had been an all-state cross-country runner, was in a wheelchair.

  Chapter 40

  This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have come. Dad was right―he didn’t deserve to be part of his family’s life anymore. Not after what he’d cost his sister.

  And yet she’d insisted that he come inside, and now she was maneuvering around the kitchen to get him a cup of coffee. He wanted to tell her to let him do it. It’d be so much easier for him. And yet, as he watched her, he had to acknowledge how capable she was, deftly wheeling her chair around obstacles and reaching into cupboards.

  Even more striking was how grown up she looked. She’d been a gangly seventeen-year-old at the time of the accident, which made her twenty-four now. Twenty-five, he corrected himself. Her birthday was last month. Her face had matured in that time, and in place of her old ponytail standby, she wore her auburn hair in a sleek face-framing cut. Even her hands, with their practiced and sure movements as she added sugar to his mug, seemed grown up.

  “Here you are.” She set the coffee cup on the table. How could she smile at him and serve him coffee after everything?

  “Thank you.” He managed to rasp out. He didn’t know what else to say, so he took a sip of the coffee. It burned his tongue, but he didn’t care. He deserved far worse than a burnt tongue after what he’d done to her.

  You’re forgiven for that. But the reminder rang hollow now that evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. Maybe Jesus had forgiven him, but how could his family ever?

  “Kayla, I’m―”

  But he had to stop as she wheeled up next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He stiffened for a second, then swiveled to bring his arms around her and pull her in as tight as he dared. Which wasn’t very tight.

  “You won’t break me, Nate.” Kayla’s voice held both a laugh and a reprimand. “Give me a real hug.”

  He squeezed harder, closing his eyes against the rush of emotion. How could she want to be anywhere near him, let alone hug him?

  “I’m so sorry.” He whispered the words into her shoulder. “I never meant for you―”

  “I know.” She rubbed a hand up and down his back, the same way their mother always had when they were sick.

  When she finally pulled back, Nate swiped a quick hand across his cheeks.

  “Dad wouldn’t let me―” He fumbled. This wasn’t the time to blame things on someone else. “I didn’t know you were―” The word stuck on his tongue.

  “Paralyzed?” She said it gently, not an accusation. Just a fact. As if she were saying that she were tall or dark-haired or something that was a part of her.

  He winced. “Yeah.”

  She touched a hand to his arm. “It’s okay, Nate. Really. Remember, I’ve had a long time to get used to it. You’ve only had a few minutes.”

  “So, what―you’re just okay with this?” Nate shoved to his feet. How could she just accept this? Why wasn’t she angry at him? She should yell at him, scream that he was the worst brother in the history of the world, tell him to get lost.

&nbs
p; “I wasn’t at first.” Her eyes followed him as he paced the room. “Not for a couple of years, actually. I was angry.” She dropped her eyes. “Really angry.”

  He deserved her anger, he knew that. But his stomach plunged to hear her say it. “At me.”

  She raised her eyes and met his. “A little. But mostly at God.”

  Nate nodded. Don’t get him started on being angry with God. He knew that feeling only too well. And though that anger had begun to fade in the past few weeks, it threatened to rear up again now that he was confronted with what had happened to his sister. He reminded himself that what had happened wasn’t God’s fault; it was his own.

  “But,” Kayla continued. “Mom and Dad kept bringing me to church, even when I didn’t want to go. They kept reminding me of God’s love for me. And God worked on my heart. I eventually got involved with a support group for young adults with injuries and disabilities. And now I’m actually working with kids with disabilities.” Her eyes came to life. “It’s like I’ve found my purpose, Nate. And it’s a purpose I wouldn’t have found without all of this.” She gestured at her lap, where her legs sat perfectly still.

  “You’re saying this is a good thing?” Nate couldn’t wrap his head around it.

  Kayla looked thoughtful. “Would I have chosen for it not to happen, if I had a choice? Of course. But it did happen. And as terrible as it was, God used it to bring about good. We both know I wasn’t exactly on a godly path before the accident. That was you, with your worship band and all your churchy stuff.”

  Nate let out an ironic laugh. Funny how things had changed.

  “I didn’t want anything to do with God then. But he used this to show me my need for him. And to show me how he could use me for his kingdom.”

  Nate was stunned into silence.

  Was there a chance that God had used all of this for his good, too? Kayla was right that he’d been into all the churchy stuff, but looking back on it now, Nate could admit he’d been doing it more for himself than for God. He’d wanted the record contract not so he’d have a bigger platform to share God but so that he’d have a bigger platform for himself.

  “But don’t you miss running?” He finally asked the question that had been dragging on him since the moment he’d seen her in that chair.

  “Of course.” Her answer was immediate, and it sent a stab of guilt through him.

  “Then how can you say―”

  She held up a hand. “Running was only a small part of who I am. And anyway, I’m training for a race right now.”

  Nate stared at her. Was he missing something here?

  “There’s a big wheelchair marathon in Madison in a couple weeks. I finished in the top fifty last year. My goal this year is top twenty.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing.” Nate crossed the room to give his sister another hug. She’d always been spunky; he should have known nothing would stop her from competing.

  “You can train with me now that you’re here.” Kayla slugged his shoulder. “If you think you can keep up. You always were a slowpoke.”

  “Slowpoke? Hey, I beat you that one time―”

  “Yeah, because I had a sprained ankle.”

  “Oh, come on.” But Nate’s heart eased. He had missed the brother-sister teasing that used to drive their parents crazy. “You know I―”

  But the words died on his lips as the door from the garage into the kitchen opened.

  His mother stopped halfway through the door, her mouth half open.

  He needed to say something, but nothing sounded right in his head. Finally, he got out the only word he could. “Mom.”

  It was enough. Mom unfroze and lunged toward him, tears spilling down her face. In a second, she had him wrapped in her arms. Nate lifted her off her feet and held her as tight as he could.

  “Nathan, put me down.” But her voice was full of joy and tears. Nate gave her another good squeeze.

  “What’s going on?” At the sound of Dad’s voice, Nate set her down, and she moved to the side. Nate was left face-to-face with his father.

  He tried not to wilt under Dad’s hard stare. “What are you doing here?”

  Nate swallowed against the dryness in his throat. This is where figuring out what to say ahead of time would have come in handy.

  But as if he’d always known what he would say in this situation, the words started flowing. “This is my family. And I couldn’t wait any longer to see all of you. To tell you how very sorry I am. How sorry I will be for the rest of my life. And to beg for your forgiveness.” He held up a hand as Dad started to talk over him, and to his surprise, Dad fell silent. “Before you say anything, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m hoping you’ll consider giving it anyway. Out of sheer grace.”

  The words out, Nate fell silent.

  “I forgive you, Nate.” Kayla’s words were soft, but they fell like a balm on Nate’s soul.

  He blinked rapidly and reached behind him to grab Kayla’s hand. “Thank you.” The words were barely a whisper, but it was all he could get out past the surge of gratitude for her unexpected gift.

  “I just think,” Kayla continued, her voice stronger. “That if Jesus forgives you for this, then we really have no right not to. Right, Dad?”

  Nate couldn’t bring himself to look Dad full in the face but watched him out of his peripheral vision. Dad’s jaw worked, but he remained silent.

  A second later, he fled down the hallway.

  It was what Nate had expected, and yet he still felt deflated.

  “Give him time.” Mom’s voice was gentle, and she pulled Nate into another hug.

  Nate nodded. At least Dad hadn’t asked him to leave. He supposed that was something.

  He let Mom usher him to the table and pour him yet another cup of coffee. Then he sat with Mom and Kayla as they caught him up on everything he’d missed over the last seven years.

  He told them about his life in Hope Springs, too. He meant to leave off the parts about Violet, but she’d become so wrapped up in every aspect of his life that it was impossible not to mention her. He pretended not to notice the glance that passed between his mom and his sister whenever he said Violet’s name.

  They didn’t know that part of his life was over. That whatever thoughts he’d had about a future with Violet had died the moment she’d found out the truth about him.

  After a while, their conversation wound down, and Mom sent him to unpack his suitcase in his old room. As he walked down the hallway, Nate’s eye caught on the dozens of pictures hanging on the wall. Some were new―a picture of Kayla in her wheelchair at the finish line of a race, one of Kayla and Mom at the beach, and one of Kayla all dressed up next to some guy Nate didn’t recognize. But there were old pictures, too. Even, to his surprise, some of him. He moved to the picture on the end, from the trip where he and Kayla had collected all those shells. That was the day they’d both decided they wanted to be marine biologists. He’d be a musician on the side, and she’d be a runner.

  Nate slid a finger over Kayla’s youthful face in the image. How could her life―their lives―have turned out so differently from what they’d planned?

  A noise from behind the closed door to Dad’s office across the hall caught his attention.

  Without considering what he was doing, Nate lifted his hand to the doorknob. He eased the door open a crack, then immediately wished he hadn’t.

  Dad’s back was to him, his head bowed and shoulders shaking. The sound of muffled sobs stabbed Nate right through the middle.

  He’d never seen Dad break down before. Not even when he’d stood behind Nate as he’d pleaded guilty to the drunk driving charges.

  Nate hesitated. Maybe he should go to Dad. Try to comfort him.

  But he reminded himself he was the one who had caused this.

  He closed the door silently and walked away.

  Chapter 41

  Tony’s whines woke Violet early. She winced as her bare feet hit the hardwood floor on the way to the
living room, where she’d tucked his kennel next to the window.

  The dog turned in wild circles as she approached.

  “Ugh. Nate taught you to be a morning person, didn’t he?” She shoved down the swoop of regret at Nate’s name. She’d spent all day yesterday telling herself it was better that he’d left anyway. She wasn’t about to undo that now.

  The moment she let Tony out of his kennel, he raced to the door. She glanced at the window. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon. “Seriously? You want to go outside right now?”

  But she padded to the bedroom to throw on some sweats. Tony shouldn’t have to suffer just because Nate had left him. Had left them both.

  Just like her mom. And her sister. And Cade.

  She fought to push aside the loneliness and remember that she had lots of friends, lots of people who cared about her.

  Her Bible was lying open on her bedside table. She’d been too tired after the emotional day yesterday to read much. On a whim, she grabbed it. Maybe she could read while Tony played outside.

  But the mid-October air sliced at her face the moment she stepped out the door. Maybe she’d been too optimistic to consider reading outside this morning.

  “Let’s make this quick, Tony,” she mumbled. She led the dog to the grassy hill behind the apartment, trying to shove away the memories of all the times she’d stood out here with Nate.

  She waited for Tony to do his business, but the dog pulled on the leash, dragging her down the hill. She tried to tug back, but Tony was on a mission. She didn’t realize where he was taking her until he stepped onto the beach.

  Instinctively, she recoiled. She couldn’t walk here.

  But Tony didn’t give her a choice. She either had to follow him onto the beach or have her arm ripped out of the socket.

  The dog tugged her to the water’s edge. At first she resisted, jerking back on the leash every few seconds to coax the dog to go back. But after a while, she gave up and let herself be pulled along.

  Tony finally stopped at a rocky outcrop. Violet considered it. Her fingers had gone numb, and the wet sand had frozen her toes. But the sun was above the horizon now, and the entire sky was layered in shades of pink and red and orange. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a sunrise like this. It felt like an invitation.