A nervous trill came out of her throat as the phone rang and someone answered.
“Hi, my name is Elizabeth Lambert. I’d like to check on my graduate school application.” She listened for a moment, then spelled her name and gave her social security number. “Yes, I’ll hold.”
You bet I’ll hold. I’m going to find out what’s going on.
She tapped her fingernails on the base of her laptop, staring out the window. Grandpa strolled up the drive with Ethan’s golden retriever, Hutch. Elizabeth smiled.
“Miss Lambert?”
“Yes?” Elizabeth returned her focused to the call.
“Your application was denied.”
Elizabeth resisted the urge to scream and asked through clenched teeth, “Yes, I know. But why?”
“I don’t know.” Irritation laced the woman’s voice. “I—oh, wait. You didn’t submit your transcripts from MIT.”
Elizabeth stood so fast her desk chair tipped over. “What?”
“You didn’t send us your undergraduate transcripts.”
“I paid for the university to send them.”
“Well, we didn’t get them.”
Elizabeth circled the room in small steps. “What do you mean you didn’t get them?”
The woman answered slowly, tossing out her words one at a time, “We…did…not…get…them. They never arrived.”
With a sigh, Elizabeth thanked the woman and hung up. After another quick search on the Internet, she found South Carolina’s and Michigan’s information. Quick calls to their admissions departments yielded the same result. MIT had not submitted her transcripts.
Stunned, Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed, blinking back tears while her middle bubbled with a giggle. Denied admittance due to a clerical error.
How classic.
She took a second to mull the situation over, then got on the computer. A plan formed in her head while she fired off a few E-mails and checked all the universities’ Web sites for application deadlines. Perhaps she still had time. . . .
The sunlight faded, and shadows appeared in the corners of her room. Grandpa appeared in the doorway. “Dinner’s on, Kitten.”
Elizabeth glanced around at him with a smile. “MIT didn’t send my transcripts.”
“What?”
“MIT didn’t send my transcripts. That’s why my grad school applications have been denied.”
Grandpa laughed. “Don’t that beat all? How’d you find out?”
“I took command,” she said. Linking her arm with his, Elizabeth walked with Grandpa to the kitchen, and during dinner, she regaled her grandparents with the events of the day.
❧
Kavan rang the doorbell. Nervous, he mentally rehearsed what he wanted to say. He couldn’t rest until he’d squared things with Elizabeth. He’d prayed and prayed about it, but still couldn’t find resolve within himself. Funny, he didn’t have the urge to make a defense before Travis and the New Hampshire Division of Forests and Lands, but, did want to explain his actions to Elizabeth. He couldn’t bear the idea of her perceiving him as a coward or a weakling.
The door to the Lamberts’ kitchen flew open, and a smiling, bubbly, all too beautiful Elizabeth stood there.
“Kavan,” she gushed, throwing her arms around him. “You’re just in time for dessert. Are you hungry?”
Shocked, yet amused, Kavan stepped inside. “I’d never turn down a Grandma Betty dessert.”
Elizabeth led him to the table, his hand in hers. Grandpa Matt congratulated him on his forgery find while Grandma Betty slid a large slice of iced applesauce cake under his nose. Elizabeth chatted merrily about the strange signatures on the purchase orders and how they presented the material to Travis Knight.
“Our girl is full of discoveries today.” Grandma handed Kavan a cup of coffee.
“Thank you.” He took the cup, then fixed his gaze on Elizabeth. “What other discoveries have you made?”
Elizabeth related the story of the missing transcripts, the details punctuated with little points made by her grandparents. Finally, Elizabeth concluded, “Tomorrow, I’m calling MIT to straighten this thing out.”
Kavan looked at her and thought she was actually beaming. He was proud of her, yet disappointed.
So, this is what the Bible means when it says love does not seek its own. Kavan intuitively understood he had to let Elizabeth go.
Grandpa Matt and Grandma Betty excused themselves from the table and wandered arm in arm from the kitchen.
“Well, you’re off.” Kavan reached for Elizabeth’s hand. He loved its velvety texture.
She placed her other hand on top of his. “You always knew that was the plan.”
He nodded. “Yes, I did.”
“I’m sorry I was so snippy earlier.”
Kavan looked up and smiled. He caught her blue gaze with his own. “Don’t worry about it. I am so grateful to be out of that mess, and I have you to thank.”
“Glad to help, Friend.”
Kavan leaned forward, and with his fingertips, touched the side of her face. “Sure you want to leave?”
“I never planned to stay.”
“And what does your Friend Jesus say?”
Elizabeth pulled her hand free and rested against the back of her chair. She focused on Kavan for a second before answering. “I don’t know, but when I took command of my own situation, I found the answers. Maybe He helped me today like He did you.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” At that moment, Kavan ached. Ached for Elizabeth, for a life with her. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you. But hey, I’m not gone yet. I’ll be here another four to six weeks.”
“And Friday night, you’re my date to the big to-do about nothing ceremony.”
“I can’t wait.” She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Seventeen
The White Birch Community Center hummed with excited voices. Elizabeth sat among the families and guests of the honored firefighters, watching as Kavan Donovan received a commendation for leadership and bravery.
Her cheeks twinged from the constant smiling. When Kavan walked across the stage, the crowd in the auditorium cheered. His gaze fell on her, and he smiled with a wink. Elizabeth winked back and gave him two thumbs-up.
When he stopped at the podium to speak, Elizabeth imagined her heart might thump right out of her chest.
“Jesus said,” Kavan began when the din died down, “that no greater love is there than this, that one would lay down his life for his friends.”
The tranquil sound of his voice, combined with his opening statement, captivated Elizabeth.
“Up on that ridge, I did what any of these men would have done. I’m proud to be numbered among them. Mostly, I hope that in some small way I represented Jesus up there and honored His name with my actions. He is our greatest Friend.” He paused and looked out over the crowd. “Thank you for honoring us today.”
He returned to his seat, accompanied by a symphony of applause.
After the ceremony, Kavan wove through the crowd to Elizabeth. She hugged him with vigor. “I’m so proud! You are a gifted speaker.”
“Thanks.” He gently cupped her elbow with his hand and steered her through the throng. “I said five sentences. Can’t mess that up, Elizabeth.”
She laughed. “True, but you looked so calm and stately.”
Kavan looked down at her, flashing his hooked grin. “Stately? Now that’s a new one.” He stopped to hug some ladies and shake hands with several men. As many as could reach him patted him on the back and belted out their congratulations.
Finally, they were outside, breathing in the warm July night air. Stars twinkled down at them.
“I’m hungry,” Kavan said. “Let’s eat.”
“Giuseppe’s?” Elizabeth asked, her hand in his as they trotted to his truck.
“Sounds great.”
They laughed and talked the whole way to the pizza place, reha
shing the tributary events. Kavan declared he never wanted to go through that again.
“The fire or the tribute?” Elizabeth asked, a lilt in her voice.
“Both,” Kavan said.
She watched him watching her out the corner of his eye. If I were ever going to get married, Kavan, it would be to a man like you.
“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Kavan said with a glance her way. He turned into Giuseppe’s parking lot.
“Just thinking.” Feeling caught by her own thoughts and sublime desire, she looked out the window and up at the mountain.
“About what?” Kavan cut off the engine and shifted his torso toward her.
About what? I can’t tell him what I’ve been thinking. So, she fudged a little. “About the future, school and all. MIT should have sent out my transcripts by now.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding sad. “I was wondering. . . .” He stopped and looked out the windshield.
Elizabeth’s pulse quickened. “You were wondering?”
“Nothing. Let’s eat,” he said.
Nothing? What were you going to say? She waited for him to open her door. Sliding out of the truck, she slipped into his embrace. His kiss was warm, determined, and made Elizabeth’s knees weak. The feel of his lips touching hers lingered for the rest of the night.
❧
Elizabeth hummed softly to herself as she readied for her Saturday afternoon shift at Sinclair’s. Showered and dressed in her Sinclair’s uniform, she curled up on her bed with one of Grandma’s ham sandwiches on homemade bread.
Since last night, she could not forget the feel of Kavan’s arms around her and the touch of his kiss.
She took a small bite of her sandwich, then set her plate on the corner of her desk. A picture of Kavan flashed across her mind, causing a giggle to erupt from deep inside. She covered her mouth with a swift move of her hand, shifting her eyes to peek around the room as if someone could have overheard.
So, this is the feeling that moved the pens of the great poets. The emotion that stirred singers to sing and dancers to dance, she thought. Her heart felt light and airy. Peaceful. The feeling began to seem familiar, to become a part of her. And she liked it.
Suddenly, Elizabeth jumped to her feet and stood in the middle of her bed. Thrusting her arms wide, she belted out the first song that came to mind. “The hills are alive with the sound of music.”
She crumpled to the bed, laughing.
Grandpa and Grandma appeared in the doorway. “And she tries to tell you I’m crazy,” Grandpa said to Grandma.
“I’m sorry, you guys; I’m just feeling a little wacky today.”
“Wacky? Is that what you kids call it these days? In my day, we called it being in love.” Grandpa gazed at his granddaughter over the rim of his wire spectacles.
“In love? As in falling in love? Grandpa, you’re certifiable. Grandma, watch him.” Elizabeth reached over the edge of the bed for her shoes, unable to control the big grin sweeping across her face. “I’m excited that my life is finally moving forward. Grad school is on the horizon, the light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Right,” Grandpa said, propped against the door, his arms folded over his chest. “Studying physics and math, cramming for tests, working late nights, and getting up early always made me sing at the top of my lungs, too.”
Elizabeth hopped up and yanked her purse from the hook on the wall. “No time for your delirium, Grandpa. Sinclair’s awaits.” She kissed her grandma on the cheek and hugged her grandpa on her way through the door.
“Beth, your sandwich. . . ,” Grandma called after her.
“Save it for later. I’m not hungry,” she called, waving from the bottom of the stairs with a flutter of her hand.
❧
Kavan strolled down Main Street toward the diner, his mind set on a late supper. He’d felt restless sitting at home, an unusual sensation for him. His cabinlike abode was his sanctuary, and he loved being there. But tonight. . .
He drove past Sinclair’s, expecting to see Elizabeth’s candy apple red Bug in the parking lot. He did but decided not to stop. As much as he wanted to see her, he needed time to think.
Last night’s commendation ceremony—combined with an enchanting evening with Elizabeth—marked one of the best nights of his life. Despite his embarrassment over the hero hoopla, he couldn’t help feeling honored by the town’s expression of appreciation. Even his parents wired congratulations from Florida.
He smiled, recalling his father’s words. Congratulations, Son. We are proud of you. Warm wishes, Dad and Mom.
They maintained their physical distance, but Kavan knew they loved him, and their hearts were close. He’d settled that in his mind a long time ago.
“Where to, Lord?” he asked absently after he parked the truck and started down Main Street.
Diner.
“Okay,” Kavan said. “Dinner with You tonight, Jesus.”
As he walked past the bookstore, mulling over the diner menu, a sparkle in the window of Earth-n-Treasures, Designs by Cindy Mae caught his attention.
Stop.
Kavan halted, then took a step toward the storefront. He studied the items in the display window, various pieces designed from gold and silver. All exquisite. He admired one gold filigree ring hosting a uniquely cut solitaire diamond.
“Hi, Kavan.”
He looked up to see the owner of Earth-n-Treasures standing beside him.
“Hi, Cindy Mae. What are you doing in town on a Saturday evening?”
She grinned and shifted the weight of her large frame. “Brill took the kids to a movie, so I thought I’d come in and do a little work.”
Kavan glanced up and down Main Street. “I forgot how dead this place is on the weekends.”
“We roll up the sidewalks Friday at 5 p.m. until Monday at 8 a.m.,” Cindy Mae said, twirling the ends of her thick blond braid between her fingers.
Kavan laughed outright. Cindy Mae painted a true picture of White Birch. “I came in for some dinner,” he told her.
Cindy Mae nodded toward the diner. “Sam’s the only one who does much business on the weekends.”
Kavan agreed. “Can’t beat his meat loaf.” Next, he motioned to the piece behind the glass. “That’s an unusual ring.”
“Isn’t it beautiful? It’s one of the few pieces I didn’t make myself.” Cindy Mae invited him into the shop to take a closer look. “It’s a century old, and that’s the original one-karat diamond.”
Kavan raised a brow and whistled.
Cindy Mae pointed to the intricate design of the ring’s mount with the long tip of her pinky fingernail. “The ring is in classic Edwardian design. Thus, the filigree.”
“It’s amazing. I’ve never seen a diamond like this one.”
“It’s an Asscher cut. Very sought-after cut of diamond in its day,” Cindy said, peering up at Kavan. “Still is.”
In that instant, somehow Kavan knew he had to purchase the ring. It seemed to symbolize Elizabeth to him, a rare and beautiful find. She was valued by the Lord and valued by him.
“The ring comes with a story, too.” Cindy Mae pulled up a stool and motioned for Kavan to sit.
He listened as Cindy Mae told her tale. “My great-uncle John Ashton bought this ring for the woman he loved in 1904. She accepted the ring, but never wore it, telling Uncle John she wanted to consider his proposal for awhile. A year passed without an answer, so Uncle John pressed his hopeful bride-to-be to set a date. She confessed that she loved another and returned the ring.”
For a split second, Kavan imagined he felt the disappointment of John Ashton. “He must have been devastated.”
Cindy Mae rested against a glass case and crossed her arms over her middle. “Heartbroken. Family lore has it that he buried himself in work. Made a million dollars, which for his day was a considerable amount. He never married and left the ring in a safety-deposit box he never bothered to tell anyone about.”
“Guess he truly wanted to forg
et,” Kavan offered.
Cindy Mae chuckled deeply. “I’m sure he did. He died in the late sixties. My father received the ring as part of his estate, but he was already engaged to my mother, who viewed the ring as bad luck and refused to ever wear it. Recently, Dad brought the ring to me and said to do what I wanted with it. After forty years, he’s caved in to my mother’s superstitions.”
Kavan’s heartbeat quickened. Surely someone else in Cindy Mae’s family would want the ring. He said as much to his hostess.
She shook her head, disagreeing. “There’s only my sister and me now. For some odd reason, we believe this ring belongs to someone besides us. Someone very special, we just don’t know who.”
Kavan blurted out, “Cindy Mae, how much?” His gaze darted between her face and the ring.
What am I doing?
She did not appear fazed by his question. “You have someone special in your life?”
Kavan chuckled and ran his hand over the top of his hair. “I’m working on it. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Is it the Lamberts’ granddaughter?”
“You’ve seen her,” Kavan said.
“She’s a fine girl. Beautiful.”
Shivers ran down Kavan’s back, and his palms grew moist. With a jerky, forward motion, he placed the ring on the front counter. “How much, Cindy Mae?” He braced to hear thousands of dollars. He couldn’t imagine how much an antique ring of this caliber would cost. The stone alone had to be worth. . . What? His head started spinning.
Cindy Mae picked up the rare jewel and walked behind the counter. Kavan hoped she wouldn’t ring it up without telling him the price. As best he figured, he could spend about five thousand dollars. Even that would just about wipe out his savings.
He waited for Cindy Mae’s answer while she worked on the ring, cleaning and polishing it. Then she placed it in a deep blue velvet box, the same color as Elizabeth’s eyes.
“Here.” She extended her hand, the box on the tip of her fingers. “I knew I didn’t come into town tonight to balance the books.”
Kavan gaped at her. He tried to answer, but no words would come. “Cindy Mae, I don’t understand,” he managed to say after a moment.
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