Lance was normal life, no surprises. He kept saying I'd never have a normal life with you and I wanted so much for things to be the same again. That's why the night you thought I'd made a promise to God, I let you. I thought it would make it easier for you to move on since I was probably just one in a crowd to you, anyway. Losing me wouldn't matter that much. I didn't know you couldn't move on. I didn't know I couldn't.
The morning you bought the sheep I was doing dishes and I felt you there with me, right in the room. You were hurting as bad as I was, and you were saying goodbye to me. A real goodbye. I thought I'd never see you again. I couldn't stand it. I dropped onto the kitchen floor and begged God to make you stay. When you came that night and said you'd bought the sheep, I was so thankful, but I'd made such a mess of everything. I didn't know what to do, how to fix anything. You were right. I'd been unfaithful to Lance, to you, and to myself. I should've broken it off with Lance then, but I didn't know how to hurt him again.
I'm embarrassed. I'm ashamed. I'm mad at myself. I'm mad at you.
You said you can't read my mind, so I'll spell this out in simple terms even you can understand. The other night after my graduation, what I wanted was for you to come after me. Because I'm in love with you. Because ever since the night of the storm at line camp, it's been too late for anything else for me, too.
You told me I had to decide what I want, so I have. I want to marry you. I want to wake up with you every morning, go to sleep with you every night. I want to have your kids. I want to sit beside you in church holding your hand. I want to hold your hand on the porch swing when we're old. I want to put up with your extremely irritating habits, your unbelievable talent for saying and doing the wrong things (for instance, leaving my party with another girl) your muddy boots, and your smart mouth. And your stupid grin. And your hands in my hair while you tell me it smells like lightning.
Like you said once, wherever all that takes me, that's where I'm going. That's what I want. I can't change that no matter who doesn't like it.
You told me in your letter you didn't know why you lived through that car crash, but maybe it's because you're so much more to God than you thought you were. So much more than I thought you were. God chose you to be a man of faith, but I underestimated the depth of your heart. Please forgive me, Gil.
I look back on the girl I used to be and I don't know her, either. She was a dumb kid, but she didn't lie to you about loving you. I loved you then, but the love I have for you now is the forever kind.
Katie
P.S. You don't have to break Lance's arms. I wasn't really going on a date with him. He asked me, but I said no, so…put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Staring in shock at the letter, he read it again to make sure he hadn't imagined it. Then he bolted for his truck.
At the garden gate, he wiped his hands on his jeans then lifted an arm to sniff. He didn't smell very good, but it'd just have to wait. Katie knelt with her back to him a few yards away.
"Don't eat bugs, Chris. They're yucky." She pried something out of the kid's hand then wiped at his slobbery chin with the bottom of her tee shirt. "No. Don't squish it. You're such a gross little kid. Give it to Sissy."
He swallowed to clear his dry throat. "Hey," he said quietly.
She whirled with a startled gasp, her eyes wide in her heat flushed face.
"I stopped at the tree ten minutes ago." He dropped his hat to the grass as he covered the distance between them. "Katie, God as my witness I never would've stayed away if I'd known."
He pulled her to her feet and into his arms with one motion, crushing her slight body to him. Her arms slid around his neck and he found her lips with desperate relief. The ground seemed to fall from beneath his boots as the garden, mountains, and sky whirled around them in a green, and blue, and silver brilliance of answered prayer.
At last, he lifted his head. "Do you know me now?"
Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, nodding.
"Why didn't you just tell me all that?"
"I prayed if we were really supposed to be together you'd find the letter in the tree."
"Katie, don't take chances like that. You know I'm not normal."
She laughed softly. "You found it."
He brushed a strand of her hair from her cheek. "From now on, just tell me what you want straight up like that. That wasn't so hard, was it?"
She flushed. "It wasn't easy."
He grinned crookedly. "But when you…er…put it that way, your every wish is my command."
She smiled into his eyes. He rubbed his thumb over her cheek in amazement. He wasn't dreaming. She was in his arms for real, smiling, happiness glittering in her eyes like sun on clear, blue water.
He rested his forehead against hers. "You know I'm crazy about you?"
Her arms tightened around him. She closed her eyes to meet his kiss. A few feet away, the kid gagged.
Her eyes popped open. She looked down and gave a horrified shriek, wrenching away to spring at the baby. "Oh. My. Goodness! Chris, you have got to be the grossest little kid alive."
The purple-faced kid stared wide-eyed and baffled above two grasshopper legs quivering between his clamped lips. She grabbed up the baby and thrust the rugrat into his arms. Shivering with disgust, she forced her forefinger into the baby's mouth, dragging out the soggy insect piece by piece. A last probe produced a jointed leg. She flipped it to the ground while the kid rolled something over his only two teeth with a thoughtful expression.
She raised her gaze. "Gil, this is not funny," she exclaimed indignantly. "He could die from eating bugs. What if he ate—"
With a shout of laughter, he dropped to the grass, pulling her and the baby down with him. Sprawling on his back with the kid sitting on his belly, he laughed because a kid choking on a bug definitely put a damper on romance. Then he laughed because...he could, now.
A finger poked between his shirt snaps and into his navel.
"Hey," he yelped, grabbing the rugrat's grubby hand. "Hands off the bellybutton, dude."
Smiling widely, Katie pulled the baby onto her lap. "You know who you remind me of when you laugh like that?"
"Robert Redford?"
She giggled. "No. Your gramps."
Unexpectedly pleased by the comparison, he grinned. Looking up at her, he marveled at the soft happiness on her face. For the first time in weeks, she didn't look like she wanted to shoot him. He'd almost forgotten how she could be…how they could be together.
"If I asked you to marry me tonight, what would you say?"
She flushed. "I don't know."
He lifted his head, staring at her in mock surprise. "You don't know? I thought you wanted to sleep with me."
She blushed furiously, jabbing at him. "Gil, is that the only thing you latched onto out of that whole letter?"
"Ow. No." He laughingly dodged her onslaught. "You want me to marry you again, too. If you're gonna keep naggin' me about—"
"You are so bad," she said, giggling, her face scarlet.
"Ow." He caught her hand, pulling her down to hold her head on his shoulder. "You're the one said it."
The kid sat on his stomach and gave an experimental bounce.
"Put on that…yellow dress and…go out with me…on a real date tonight?" he grunted in time with the bounces.
She raised her head. "To the café?"
"Hardly." He bumped the kid onto the grass where he crawled away. "I'd rather you didn't feed the chipmunks down there."
Her smile widened. Sunlit strands of lightning scented hair blew gently around her face just like he'd prayed for that night on her porch, but…
"Katie?" He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly uncertain. "If you still have any doubts, tell me now. I can't take it if you—"
She stopped him with her finger over his mouth, her gaze unwavering. Then she held his head in her hands and pressed her lips to his. And she wasn't the same as she used to be. Now she was sure. Completely. And she was g
oing to…make his…heart explode…if she kept—
A hard little head shoved between their faces. He reluctantly opened his eyes to a transparent piece of wing membrane sticking to the drool on the kid's chin.
Katie sat up without looking at him, her color high. She pulled the baby onto her lap. "I'll have to go feed him," she whispered. Her fingers trembled as she brushed grasshopper parts from the slobber.
He sat up, too, running an unsteady hand over his disheveled hair.
Wow.
She made a move to rise, but he caught her hand. "Don't go. Can't you feed him another grasshopper?"
She laughed and sat back to lean against him, hiding her face in his neck. He kissed her hair, breathing deeply of the fragrance.
The kid yelled. She sighed and straightened to pick a dandelion bloom from the grass for him. He grabbed it and stuffed it into his mouth. She ran her hand gently over the baby's hair, her expression troubled.
"Gil…is it…okay about Chris?"
He tightened his arm around her. "A year ago I couldn't have done it." He tipped her chin to meet her gaze. "I can now. He just comes with you, and, yeah…it's okay." He hesitated. "But tonight could we be alone?"
"I'd like that," she said softly.
The kid broke from her hold to crawl toward the pail of green beans.
He winced, suddenly picturing Jon's reaction to him joining the family. "Your dad's not gonna like this much."
"He'll get used to it."
"Like a bad case of athlete's foot?"
She smiled. "Lance got on his nerves, too. Dad says he was born unlucky…always a day late and a dollar short." She rolled her eyes. "And he decided Lance is too easygoing for me. Says I bully him."
He grinned widely.
Her gaze narrowed. "Gil, I am not a bully."
He laughed. "You'll have me so henpecked—"
She snorted derisively. "Oh, please. The other day Dad said—" she gruffened her voice—"at least that dumb Howard boy won't let you push him around."
He laughed again and stood, pulling her up after him and into his arms. "He's so wrong. That dumb Howard boy would crawl on his belly through broken glass to keep on your good side."
"Mmhm. We'll see how long that lasts."
She slipped her arms around his neck. The future he had longed for shone from her eyes—good, clean, and full of hope.
His throat swelled suddenly with gratitude to the One on the white horse. The One who had saved him from a meaningless existence of broken promises and dreams, filling the dark emptiness inside him with a blaze of light.
Embarrassed by his emotion, he rested his forehead against hers, fishing for his handkerchief in his back pocket. He loudly blew his nose—just like his grandfather. Next thing he knew he'd have toenails like horse hooves and hairy shoulders.
Katie eyed him wonderingly. "Gil, are you—"
"Allergies." He eyed the whining kid crawling toward them, mouth glowing yellow from the dandelion. "I'm allergic to little rugrats."
She smiled softly. "No, you're like your gramps. A big marshmallow."
He grinned. "I prefer teddy bear."
She kissed him, and then reluctantly turned to scoop up the beans scattered around the pail. He helped her then lifted the kid to a seat on his arm. Instantly, a pudgy, saliva-wet finger jammed into his ear.
He jumped with a startled yell. "No, dude," he exclaimed, hastily removing the slobbery finger. "That's sick, man. No wet willies."
Katie threw back her head with laughter. He grinned at the happy sound in satisfaction. Using his own finger, he dried out his ear then encircled her shoulders with his arm. She slipped hers around his waist and laid her head against him. The three of them started slowly for the house.
"If you don't turn me down tonight," he said, "I've got some baggage I'm bringin' to our marriage, too."
She stopped, eyeing him with a shadow of alarm.
"You've only got this kid," he said, drawing her back into the shelter of his arm, "but I've got this dog…"
Acknowledgements
I owe everything to my Lord and Savior. Thank You for shedding Your blood for me and giving me the right to approach the Throne of Life.
In addition, I thank my lifelong friend and husband for always lifting me up. And giving me a lot of material to write about.
I thank my sons and their wives and children for their kindness, support, and the joy they bring into my life. I pray this work blesses all of you in some way.
I thank my sister who shares my love of the written word. And my nephew who always bugged me to write faster so he could see what happened.
I thank everybody who waded through rough drafts, second drafts, twentieth drafts…yeah, you get the picture. And I thank my writing teacher and mentor, Terri Valentine, who made me believe I could write and helped me make this book the best I could make it.
Danni McGriffith writes Christian fiction from her home in Oklahoma where she lives on a farm/ranch with her husband.
You may visit her blog, From The Ranch Pen, for a look at life on the home place.
www.dannimcgriffith.wordpress.com
Table of 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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Acknowledgements
The Cedar Tree (Love Is Not Enough) Page 31
