Lambert's Pride

by Coleman, Lynn A.

  Elizabeth stood straight and stared into Kavan’s eyes. “What?”

  “Who’s asked you to marry him?” His eyes sparked with merriment.

  “Well, I haven’t been asked.” She started to laugh.

  “Then stop worrying about it. I’ve known you only a short time, but you are clearly the most goal-oriented, determined woman I’ve ever met. A little teasing about romance is not going to drive you off the road of educational success.”

  “You’re right!” Elizabeth threw her arms around him. “Oh, Kavan, thank you!”

  ❧

  Sunday morning, Kavan found Elizabeth sitting by herself in the back of the sanctuary. He slipped into the pew beside her, hooking his cane over the seat in front of them.

  “Good morning,” he whispered.

  She faced him, her eyes clear and bright. “Morning, Kavan.”

  He hesitated, then asked, “Do you mind if I sit here?”

  “Of course not.” She flashed her wide, white grin.

  Kavan eased back against the pew, waving and greeting people as they passed. He glanced at Elizabeth from time to time, watching her expression, looking for signs of being uncomfortable. She appeared relaxed and at ease.

  Five days had passed since the night she threw her arms around him in Sinclair’s. But he could still feel the warmth of her skin touching his neck and smell the fragrance of her perfume.

  He’d deliberately left her alone the rest of the week. If they were going to have any sort of relationship, Elizabeth had to feel safe.

  The worship leader took the platform and called the congregation to worship. For a brief second, Kavan still wished he had his crutches so Elizabeth could help him stand. He rather enjoyed holding her hand.

  “Need me to help you stand?” she whispered.

  “I think I can manage.” He grinned. Ah, she remembered.

  His voice mingled with hers as they sang praises to the King.

  During the offering, Kavan got an inspiration.

  “Hey, Elizabeth,” he whispered.

  She shushed him, but a smile edged her lips.

  He reached for the pen in his coat pocket and wrote on the bulletin, “Lunch? My place?”

  He passed the paper to her.

  She read it and wrote one word: “Okay.”

  ❧

  Sitting next to Kavan and among the members of White Birch Community Church, Elizabeth felt oddly at home. After that first Sunday she agreed to attend with her grandparents, she knew spiritual strength was missing in her life.

  “Let’s open our Bibles to John 15,” Pastor Marlow said.

  Elizabeth reached for her Bible and thumbed to the passage. She could hear the rustling pages of Kavan’s Bible.

  “Book of John,” he muttered. “One of my favorites.”

  “Apparently, the pastor’s too.”

  Forty-five minutes later when the pastor closed with prayer, the words of Jesus danced through her head. “I have called you friends.”

  Could she be Jesus’ friend? Lately, He seemed more like a faraway entity that watched the world with vague indifference. Maybe He intervened in times of war or disaster, but did He really care and intimately watch over individuals like her?

  In that instant, her soul yearned to know the Lord deeper. Tears stung in her eyes. “Jesus,” she whispered so low she could barely hear her own words, “I’d like to be Your friend.”

  Her shoulders hunched forward as gentle sobs took control. Without a word, Kavan slipped his arm around her shoulders and stuffed a tissue between her fingers.

  ❧

  The Lambert family gathered at the door after the service. Grandpa chased the youngest grandchildren in a game of tag, and Grandma organized lunch out.

  “Where to?” she asked in a strong but caring voice.

  Ethan and Julie said they preferred lunch at home. Will said he was up for pizza or a hamburger plate at the diner.

  “Ah, no way,” someone shouted. “Typical bachelor fare.”

  “What about you, Beth?” Jeff asked.

  “I have lunch plans.” Her heart pounded an extra beat. Please don’t ask with whom.

  “Beth’s out,” Grandma said, “so how many are going on this adventure?”

  A chorus of young voices cried, “Me!”

  The adults laughed. Grandma made a command decision. “Pizza it is. Let’s go.”

  While everyone scurried to their cars, Elizabeth shook her head with wonder. She had a wonderful family, a little wacky at times and nosy, but so loving and kind.

  In the distance, she saw Kavan waiting by his truck. He waved. For the first time, she saw him as a true friend. He didn’t push or pry. His comment to her the other night in Sinclair’s practically revolutionized her White Birch world. Who cared what everyone else thought?

  “Let’s go; I’m starving,” he called, still leaning against the truck, his arms folded over his chest. The rust color of his tie brought out the ruddy hues of his complexion.

  “I’ll pull around behind you so I can follow,” Elizabeth hollered to him, starting for her car on the other side of the parking lot. Slipping in behind the wheel, she realized she had two new friends today: Jesus and Kavan.

  ❧

  “Oh, Kavan, your place is beautiful.” Elizabeth walked through the main room toward the kitchen. Thick open beams crisscrossed over her head, supporting a large open loft that looked into the living area and kitchen. A white stone fireplace sat in the south wall, framed by large-paned windows.

  “Thank you. It’s taken awhile, but I’m finally getting it finished.”

  Elizabeth turned with a start. “You built this yourself?”

  “Yes.” Kavan opened the porch door. “Fred, Ginger. Come.” Two large German shepherds bolted through the door.

  Kavan joined Elizabeth in the middle of the room. The dogs followed, sniffing Elizabeth, their tails wagging. “The big one with the black face is Fred. And this lovely lady is his mate, Ginger.”

  With a sideways glance and a smirk, Elizabeth said, “Clever names! Do they dance as well as Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers?”

  Kavan laughed and scratched behind Fred’s ears. “Nah; I just watched a lot of old movies growing up. Anyway, most of this room has been done for several years. But I’m finishing the loft and the porch.”

  Before Elizabeth could comment, Kavan slapped his hands together and said, “I’m hungry. How about you?”

  She rested her hand on her stomach. “Starved.”

  “Couple of rib eyes cooked on the grill and a salad suit your appetite?” Kavan pulled the meat and salad fixings out of the refrigerator.

  “Sounds perfect. How ’bout I make the salad while you cook the steaks.”

  He grinned. She liked his lopsided smile. It reminded her of a young 1950s movie star.

  “We make a good team, Lambert,” he said.

  She nodded. “Good friends are hard to find.”

  He looked up at her, paused in midmotion. “Yes,” he said. “Good friends are hard to find.”

  Nine

  “Two letters came for you today,” Grandma said when Elizabeth came in after a Saturday shift at Sinclair’s.

  “Really?” A nervous shudder ran over her. “ ‘Letter’ letters or grad school letters?”

  “Official-looking letters,” Grandma said. “I put them on your desk.”

  Elizabeth took the stairs to her room two at a time. In the fading light from the window, she saw two long white envelopes on the desk. She clicked on the desk light. With anticipation, she reached for the top letter.

  She mumbled to herself as she read. “We regret to inform you that your application has been denied.”

  She reread the line. Denied. Slowly she sat in the desk chair.

  Trembling fingers reached for the next letter.

  Denied again.

  “I can’t believe it. I’ve been turned down by Michigan and South Carolina.”

  Fighting tears, she paced her room, tr
ying to console herself. It’s only two schools. She’d applied to five and only one needed to accept. Surely one of the remaining schools would respond positively.

  Grandma appeared in the doorway. “Beth?”

  “I got turned down.”

  “I see.”

  “I, uh. . .” Elizabeth’s voice broke. She rushed past her grandmother and down the stairs.

  “Hey there, Kitten,” Grandpa called from the family room.

  Without responding, Elizabeth opened the front door and ran across the lawn. By the time she reached the covered bridge, she was out of breath. Beads of sweat trickled down her cheek and neck. She walked the length of the bridge, contemplating her situation. A June breeze whistled through the eaves.

  Denied. She visualized the word over and over. Tears stung in her eyes, but she sniffed them back, refusing to give in. “I won’t cry. I know I’ll get accepted at another school.”

  She exited the bridge on the other side and stood along the riverbank, listening to the soothing sound of the water. Jesus’ words from Sunday’s sermon whispered through her. “I have called you friends.”

  In the fading light of the setting sun, Elizabeth eased to the ground. “Jesus, I could use a friend right now.”

  Finally, she let the tears spill over and slip down her cheeks. “I know this is not the end of the world, but it sure feels like it. My plans are not working out.”

  She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, wondering how the Lord would respond to her. As a little girl, she pictured herself running up to Jesus like the children in the Bible. But now she felt old and stale, unable to run to her Savior.

  Suddenly, a burst of anger riveted her. How could she not be accepted? Her credentials were stellar. If anyone qualified for a nuclear engineering graduate program, she did.

  Yet, the anger faded as rapidly as it’d flared and disappointment surged again. She longed to shake the heavy burden that wrapped up her heart. “Lord,” she said after a few minutes, “I want to be Your friend. Be my friend, please. Show me what to do in this situation.”

  Twilight settled over White Birch and grace over Elizabeth Lambert.

  ❧

  “She worked during the day,” Joann Floyd told Kavan.

  He rapped his knuckles against Sinclair’s customer service counter. “Thanks.” He turned to leave.

  “Hey, Kavan,” Joann called after him. “Don’t give up on her.”

  He paused, looking at Joann over his shoulder. “She doesn’t make it easy.”

  Joann nodded. Kavan could tell she understood Elizabeth quite well. “She knows what she wants,” the Sinclair’s manager said.

  “I can’t fault her. I know what I want, too.”

  Joann came out from behind the counter and walked toward Kavan. “Elizabeth Lambert?”

  He stepped away from her. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  Joann’s laughter followed him out of the store.

  He drove toward the Lamberts’ home on the hill. He wasn’t sure what he would do once he got there, but he headed there anyway. Normally, he’d knock on the door, confident of a warm welcome by Grandpa Matt and Grandma Betty. But now that Elizabeth lived there, he wondered if his impromptu visit would make her uncomfortable.

  His Sunday lunch with her had gone well. Better than he’d hoped. But Elizabeth Lambert held strictly to the business of being friends. Only friends.

  Steering around the bend in the road, the White Birch covered bridge came into view. In the fading twilight, Kavan thought the truck’s headlights flashed across someone sitting on the riverbank. He slowed as he approached the bridge and leaned over the steering wheel. Peering out the windshield, he saw her. Elizabeth.

  He popped his head out the open window. “You fishing?”

  She jumped up, flicking leaves and dirt from her jeans. “Kavan. Hi,” she said with a quick wave.

  “I don’t see a pole or a line.” It was nearly dark, but in the remaining light he could see she’d been crying.

  He parked in a gravel spot at the side of the road just before the opening of the bridge, cut the truck engine, and grabbed the flashlight. “Hey, hey,” Kavan said tenderly, slipping out of the driver’s seat and meeting Elizabeth by the bridge. “Everything okay?”

  In one smooth motion, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. She cried while he stroked her hair and murmured to her that everything was going to be okay.

  “Elizabeth, tell me what’s going on.” He inclined his head to look at her. “Why all the tears?” He reached for his handkerchief and gave it to her.

  She wiped her face and blew her nose. With a steady voice, she confessed, “I received two letters from universities today.”

  Kavan stood straight. News from grad schools. . .here goes.

  “What’d they say?” He smiled to encourage her.

  “I was denied admittance.”

  For a split second, Kavan wanted to rejoice. But he knew better than to give way to his own selfish desires. Elizabeth needed his friendship and support right now. “Who turned you down?”

  “What does it matter, Kavan?” she asked, stepping out of his embrace. “That’s two less chances I have.” She started toward the covered bridge.

  “You have all the credentials, Elizabeth. You know you do.”

  “Apparently not enough for Michigan or South Carolina.”

  “Why don’t you inquire?”

  “No, I’m not going to go crawling to them. I have three other applications out there. I’ll get accepted at one of those schools.”

  Kavan gave her a sly smile. Her attitude reflected the Elizabeth Lambert he was getting to know. He walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. “I’m sure you will.”

  “I’ve never had to deal with this before. I usually get what I want, when I want.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  She faced him. He could see her lower lip tremble. “No, there’s nothing you can do, really.” Her weak tone told him otherwise.

  He stepped closer and wrapped her in his embrace again. She rested her head against his chest. For the longest time, they just stood under the peaceful cover of the bridge.

  At last Kavan prayed, “Lord, You know all things. You have Elizabeth’s welfare on Your heart. You have plans for her good and not to harm her. Give her Your grace during this time and bless her.”

  Elizabeth whispered, “Amen,” then tilted her head to look at him, still snuggled against his chest. “He’s my Friend, you know.”

  “Jesus?”

  “Yes, Jesus. And He sent you to me tonight.”

  At that moment, emotion for her almost overwhelmed him. He longed to whisper in her ear that he loved her. Slow and determined, he tipped his head toward her, intent on kissing her this time.

  But just as his lips were about to touch hers, flashing red and blue lights illuminated the bridge and the loud bleep of a siren reverberated.

  “Beth, is that you?”

  Elizabeth jumped out of his arms. Kavan squinted in the light.

  “Jeff?” he called.

  “Kavan? Sorry to disturb you, Man. I was looking for my cousin Beth.”

  “Here I am,” Elizabeth said, her voice cracking.

  From where he stood, Kavan couldn’t see Jeff’s face, but he knew the man was grinning from ear to ear when he said, “Oh, really now.”

  ❧

  Suspended between emotions, Elizabeth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “What are you doing here, Jeff?”

  “Grandma called. Asked me to look for you.”

  A wave of guilt washed over her. “Oh, Jeff, please tell her I’m fine, and I’m sorry.”

  His deep laugh echoed down the bridge. “I will. Kavan, you see she gets home safely, huh?” Jeff ducked back into the squad car.

  “Oh, great. Now the whole family is going to wonder what I was doing out here with you.”

  “You worry
too much about what they think,” Kavan said matter-of-factly.

  She rested her hands on her hips. “Don’t hassle me Donovan; it’s been a hard night.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Elizabeth peered up at him. The white glow from his flashlight illuminated the area where they stood. What a wonderful friend he’d become. His comfort tonight was just what she needed.

  Thank You, Jesus, for being my Friend and for sending Kavan to be Your arms and voice.

  Kavan tapped her on the arm. “Here, use my cell phone to call Grandma Betty so she doesn’t worry.”

  Reaching for the phone, Elizabeth thanked him. She dialed home and waited for an answer. “Hi, Grandma. . . . Yes, I’m fine. . . . I’m sorry I made you worry. . . . Uh-huh, Jeff found us. Kavan is here.”

  She listened to her grandma’s soft, caring voice. “I’ve been praying for you. I think Jesus just wants you to know He’s there for you to lean upon.”

  The words moved over Elizabeth’s heart and invoked a fresh batch of tears. “Thank you, Grandma. I think you are right.”

  She pressed the end button and handed the phone back to Kavan. He enveloped her again and settled his arm on her shoulders. “You know, whatever doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.”

  She laughed. “Well, those are comforting words.”

  “I just mean—”

  “I know what you mean, and you’re right.” She chuckled low.

  “Hey, did you notice I’m sans cane?” Kavan said, pointing to his healing knee.

  Elizabeth clapped her hands softly. “Yea, good for you!”

  Kavan did a jig around the bridge floor. Elizabeth laughed, and it felt good. The wind whipped through the bridge, stirring up dirt and leaves.

  “Kavan,” she said suddenly, “let me see your handkerchief again. Something’s in my eye.”

  Her eye stung and watered as she slid the white cotton cloth under her eye, hoping to mop up any remaining mascara or dirt. The edge of the fabric touched the inside of her right eye, and the sting worsened. “Oh, this hurts!” She stooped over and covered her watering eye with her hand. Debris rubbed against her contact lens.

  Kavan knelt next to her. “Elizabeth, what’s wrong?”

  “My contact lens.” She tried to open her eye, but the lens had repositioned and stuck to her eyelid, making it impossible to open.