by Unknown
“But you scared me, Ray.” In his naiveté he didn’t realize the house had never been for sale. “Did you put the spiders in the basement? Do you have a key to the house?” Of course, he had a key to the house. Lully had given him one.
“No. Those boys—Donny and Brice—did it. They took my spiders and said they were going to buy some more somewhere. I didn’t want ‘em to take the spiders. But they did. They weren’t the bad kind of spiders. They wouldn’t hurt nobody. I kept them in my room in a fish tank. They were mine. They never bothered anybody. I kept Harry—” He grinned. “Harry was my favorite. I kept him in a box in my pocket when I polished the floors at the nursing home. He liked the sound of the floor buffer.” He shook his head. “Now they’re all dead.”
Emma cringed when she thought of all the elderly residents of Happy Hollow, blissfully unaware of Ray’s pet, and her heart pounded at the thought of spiders scampering in and out of their rooms during the night.
Sam came to the hospital around seven o’clock. He and Emma sat outside the doorway in a small waiting area, watching the tears and fears on the faces of families visiting other patients.
“You need to rest,” she told him at eleven. She knew he had put in a full day. He had nodded off twice, jerking awake when someone spoke loudly or a cart rattled down the hall.
He shook his head. “You go home. I’ll stay and I’ll call you if anything changes.”
They argued about it, Emma insisting that Sam needed his rest more than she did. She could catnap in the chair and he couldn’t. He had to be at work at seven, and she didn’t. In the end, Emma won out.
She walked downstairs with him, through the dimly lit antiseptic corridors. The hospital was settling into its nighttime routine. Meds were given, family members staying overnight with patients settled into the uncomfortable lounge chairs beside the hospital beds, listening to the bleeps and blips and swooshing of the machines.
Pausing at the emergency entrance, Emma reached up and touched Sam’s hair. So dark and curly. The gesture was oddly comforting. Life was so fragile. One minute you were here; the next you were gone. Maybe the answer was to grab hold of life and make the best of it, live for the moment, for the day … while looking toward an eternity with God. She didn’t know, but maybe …
Sam smiled wearily. “You will try to get some sleep?”
“I promise.” She smiled back. They stared at each other for a long moment. In his eyes she saw need. She knew hers reflected the same message. “I found a note in Lully’s journal about the letter. You brought it by and asked her to send it, but she didn’t. She destroyed it. She thought at the time she was doing the right thing, but in the end she recognized that was a mistake. She told me she thought we could have made it.”
He shook his head, sadness in his eyes. “Too little too late.”
She reached out and hugged him.
He remained stiff, unyielding. “I need to know, Emma. Are you going to leave Serenity?”
She nodded. “I’m going to call Janice and ask her to move to Serenity and run the tearoom with Elizabeth. I think she will. Elizabeth will move the bookstore to the house.”
He looked away. “Then you’ve made your decision?”
“Just now, Sam. Just this moment I realized I have to go back for a while. Here, with you, I can’t think straight. And the town is at each other’s throats about what’s going to happen to the property, and will they have a parking lot. It’s my town, too, and like you, I don’t want to see it torn apart by conflict. Money isn’t everything. Sure, we could hold out for a king’s ransom if we wanted, but we would be taking advantage of friends and neighbors. I don’t want that and I know you don’t. I’m thrilled to know that a few are on my side, and they still welcome a Mansi in town. But I have to have some space—room to think and pray and care for my business that I’ve severely neglected. I’ve been on my own for so long that the thought of sharing my life … overwhelms me. It has to be right, Sam. This time it has to be right.” She gazed at him longingly. “I want to stay; please just give me a little time to adjust to all these new, frightening emotions.”
“If I say, ‘Yes, take as long as you need,’ will you come back?”
“Of course—I promise. And this time I’ll write.”
His laugh was humorless.
“Honest.” She realized her voice was shaky. “I even have beautiful new stationery to use. And there is e-mail, you know. We’ll never be farther than a key stroke away.”
Her heart was breaking. Why couldn’t she trust? God had given her another chance with Sam. Why couldn’t she take it and run?
“I won’t leave until Ray is better.”
Sam’s eyes softened. “You know …”
She touched her finger to his lips. “I know, but I’m going to pray that God will change my heart—clear all doubts. Make his will so clear that even I can see it.”
“Don’t blame yourself about Ray, Emma.”
“I don’t.”
And she didn’t. She’d frightened Ray, and he ran. Hers was a natural reaction to finding someone planting bullfrogs in the kitchen. Never in her wildest accusations had she suspected Ray as the culprit. The mayor, Darrel Masters, someone from Shangri-La Developers, Buddy Crane, and, God forgive her, even Sam—sweet Sam. How could she have suspected the man she loved of wanting to harm her? But never Ray.
Snow was falling outside, whipping wet blizzard-like flakes. Sam pulled the fur collar of his jacket closer and settled his hat brim lower. “I’ll be back around five.”
“Okay.”
He started out the door, and Emma suddenly found herself running after him. They both stopped just outside the emergency entrance. They stepped aside as two ambulance attendants ran by, wheeling a stretcher.
Sam turned to look at her. She hesitated … and then slowly walked into his arms. For a moment he held her lightly as if he wasn’t sure what to do; then his arms closed around her. They stood, swaying, holding on to each other as snow blew around them. His breath was warm against her ear.
Finally, she pulled back, kissed him lightly on the mouth, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?” His voice dropped to a husky timbre.
“For … do I have to have a reason?”
“No ma’am. Not today, not ever.” He pulled her back and kissed her long and thoroughly. When their lips parted, he touched her nose briefly, and walked into the snowy night.
Chapter Fifteen
Emma refused to press charges against Ray. His pranks had been basically harmless, and other than having the wadding scared out of her, Emma suffered no lasting effects.
The house was hers. Sam accepted the decision like the man she knew he was. She wanted to love him full out, without reservation. She did, in her heart but she didn’t trust her rocky emotions enough to walk into his life fully. Not yet.
Thursday afternoon Emma looked up to see Sam standing in her living room doorway, arms crossed, hat tilted rakishly back from his forehead. The remainder of the boxes to be shipped was ready to be taken to UPS. The moving van was coming tomorrow morning. Emma had a four thirty flight to Seattle.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Hey.” He eyed the mound of boxes. “You’re really going.”
She wrapped a picture and carefully laid it beside her purse to be gate checked. The portrait of Jesus and the lost sheep would have a place in her apartment.
“When’s Janice coming?”
“This weekend.” Emma taped a box marked Storage and set it aside. “You’ll like her.” You’d better not like her too much, she found herself adding silently. “She and Ken might hit it off. They’re both about the same age—both single,” Emma said aloud.
“Perfect match. Ken works in a jail; Janice lives in one.”
Emma made a face at him. “That’s not fair. She’s had a real knack for getting involved with the wrong man. It’s a gift with her.”
“And you want her to hit it off with my broth
er?”
She whacked him with the end of a dish towel and he grinned. Catching her by the arm, he sobered. The room suddenly got deathly quiet.
“Don’t go.”
“Sam—”
“I mean it, Emma. Don’t go.” He pulled her closer until their noses were nearly touching. The scent of his aftershave nearly did her in. “From the moment I let you go that day, I have regretted it. I should have fought for you. God knows I loved you enough. But I was young and foolish and Mom was having a fit and Lully was beside herself—”
“You could have argued harder, told them to keep quiet—that we knew our mind. Maybe we were young but we knew what we were doing—”
“I could hardly tell my mother to shut up, Emma. And you could have balked her sister, refused to go with her.”
“I was sorely tempted to back-talk your mother, believe me.” She pulled away, sullen.
“Well, I tried but—” He took off his hat. “Face it, Emma. We were too young fifteen years ago. I didn’t have a job or a future. If we had married, chances are we wouldn’t have made it. My folks wouldn’t have supported us and Lully couldn’t have.”
“Admit it, Sam. You were relieved to get away from the crazy Mansi girl.” All the hidden accusations, accusations she thought were long set to rest, spilled out.
“That’s not true. I loved you. I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. A day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t thought of you, wanted to pick up the phone and call.”
A sob caught in her throat. “We could have made it, Sam. There are lots of young marriages that make it.”
“There are lots that don’t, too. Maybe we would have; maybe we wouldn’t have. I’ve argued with myself a million times. We’ll never know. But we’re two different people now.” He reached out and pulled her back into his arms. “Older, wiser, with a few open wounds, but we could make it this time, Emma.” His eyes softened. “We could make it.”
Biting her lip, she pulled away and turned her back on him. It hurt; it hurt so badly and she knew he was hurting too. What he’d said was true, all of it. Statistics said they wouldn’t have made it, not with such a rocky start.
“I knew where you were, Emma. Lully told me when I came back to Serenity. I thought about coming after you. Day after day, year after year, but I didn’t. I knew you were filled with bitterness, the kind that doesn’t go away unless a person works at it, and I didn’t figure you had been working at it—and neither had I. You hurt me, too.
“Lully and I visited a couple times a week. She loved you, you know that now. She regretted her part in the breakup. Any time she heard from you she’d come to the jail and read your letter to me. I knew you worked in a greenhouse and you loved what you did. I knew you hadn’t married.” He approached softly and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “When Lully left the house to both of us, you know what she was doing?”
Emma shook her head. “I didn’t at first; I thought she’d lost her mind, especially when she said I’d find my real legacy here. When I found the bill of sale I thought that was it; then when we found the money I thought that’s what she was referring to. But she was referring to us. By leaving the house to us, we would be forced to deal with each other. Forgive one another.”
“Pretty smart lady.”
She’d thought about this a zillion times, dreamed about Sam saying he loved her, suspected deep down in her heart that he still did, yet in the far recesses of her mind doubt still loomed, waiting to devour her. Could she ever trust him with her heart again?
Could God heal all wounds? He had to, or even now they would not be able to make it. And the last thing Emma wanted was a failed marriage.
“Think about it,” Sam cajoled.
She wiped at sudden tears. “I’ll … pray about it.” She realized by the mere choice of resources how far she’d come. Eyes softening, she took his hand and held it for a very long moment. “Miracles do still happen.”
He bent and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I believe in miracles. I’ve waited fifteen years for one; I can wait another few weeks.”
“Who said anything about weeks—”
He kissed her soundly this time. “Days then.”
“Oh, honey, I’d give it serious thought if I were you. Sam’s such a good man.” Elizabeth pointed the movers toward another box in front of the house. Emma was storing everything until she could decide what she wanted—not wanted, because deep down she knew what she wanted. But she had to be certain this time. She mentally rechecked her list to be sure the house was empty of Lully’s personal effects.
“I will think about it, Elizabeth. I promise.” There’d been nothing else on Emma’s mind since yesterday and the moment Sam had asked her to stay. But events were moving too quickly. The movers were here; she had a flight in three hours. She couldn’t decide her whole life in twenty-four hours.
Emma’s thoughts turned to Janice. Since Janice was being released from the halfway house and needed a place to stay, Emma had invited her to live in the Mansi Mansion. She would help Elizabeth set up shop, and eventually, Emma hoped, be Emma’s assistant in the tearoom venture. “Janice will be here on a ten o’clock flight Saturday morning. I told her you would meet her at the gate. You’ll need to take a placard—”
“I won’t need a placard. We’ll recognize each other. You said she’s about your age, blonde hair, clear blue eyes, petite—pretty as picture.”
“She’s too pretty. That’s why she gets in trouble.” Emma turned to face Elizabeth. “Look after her, Elizabeth. She’s a great gal, really. But she picks the wrong man every time.”
“Won’t be easy to pick the wrong man here. There’re not that many young and single males around. Sam and Ken, Nick Pierson and—”
“Sort of steer her away from Sam, okay?”
“You mean until you think this thing through.”
“Yes. Elizabeth” She gave her a warning eye. “I’m working on this!”
“Humph. Well, I’d pick up my pace a little if I were you. There’re plenty of single women out there who’ve got their eye on Sam.”
“As long as it’s just an eye I’m okay.”
“And now a pretty blue-eyed blonde is coming.”
Emma heaved a sigh and handed the mover another small box. “And Gismo.” In spite of her intentions, Emma had fallen in love with the mutt. “Sam’s going to watch him until Janice gets here tomorrow.”
“Hoo boy. You’re brave.”
“Janice is not going to take Sam.” Or she’d better not.
“I’ll be glad to keep Gismo.” Elizabeth rubbed the mutt’s nose. “We get along fine, don’t we, boy?”
Gismo gave a doggy grin.
“Well, you’re loaded now, so I guess you can pretty well do as you please until your flight.” There had been over a half million dollars in the cash box. Most of the money she’d immediately put into stock investments, with some going toward house restoration. She had seen a lawyer yesterday and donated money to the town for a municipal parking lot. It wouldn’t be on the Mansi property, but it would be close enough to ease the town’s parking problems. The lot would be named in honor of Lully. Sam’s part of the house—she’d given him an inflated price, of course—would take care of Edwina as long as she lived, even if that were to be to one hundred. The land speculators and time-share vultures could fly a kite. Serenity was just that: serenity and the folks didn’t need a tourist invasion. She supposed it was bound to happen someday.
But the crazy Mansi girls won’t be responsible, she thought with a grin.
Sam didn’t know about his part of the settlement or the parking lot yet. Emma asked that her actions not be revealed until the plane lifted off for Seattle.
Two thirty. Emma lifted the front-room curtain and peeked out. Sam still hadn’t been around. The moving van left thirty minutes ago; her flight was in two hours. Where was a cop when you needed one?
Picking up her cosmetics case, she took a final walk thro
ugh the house, checking to make sure everything was completed. Memories that were once painful were now only reminiscences—some pleasant, some not so pleasant. Just like any other house. Life at this old house hadn’t been all bad. In the early days when Mom and Dad were here, they had been a family. Life seemed normal.
Lully once said that God had a plan for every life. Emma’s plan was a little rocky so far, but if God’s plan for her was her present situation, she was willing to acknowledge it. And she was now willing to recognize God, for who else could have brought her through the storm? She was optimistic about the future, though no clear sense of direction surfaced. She supposed that’s the way it should be. If she knew what she’d face in the future, she might never have the courage to step into it with competency.
Picking up her purse and the picture of Jesus holding the lamb, she went out the front door and locked it. She would be back more often; she’d promised herself that. No more running away. This was home, like it or not, and the idea of the combined bookstore and tearoom excited her. And Sam … he was still a deep, uncertain ache she wanted to settle—so badly.
Few air travelers clogged the airport when she arrived. She returned her rental car, checked in, and walked toward her gate. Lully’s old Chevy still sat in the garage, untouched. On the way, she stopped in a gift shop and bought Vanity Fair and Home and Garden magazines. Inexplicably, the thought of returning to Seattle didn’t excite her—not like she’d thought it would. Her mind raced with thoughts for the new tea room—Janice. Sam. “We could make it this time, Emma.”
If God had enabled Moses to part the Red Sea, couldn’t he make a way for her and Sam to forge a successful marriage together here on earth? Of course he could. He still worked miracles, big and small.
She emerged from the shop, looking both ways to see if she could spot a tall, dark, curly-haired sheriff in the crowd. There was none. She proceeded to the gate. Why hadn’t she accepted his offer to stay? There was nothing holding her in Seattle. She could always sell the business and turn a good profit. There wasn’t a man in Seattle whose occasional company she wouldn’t gladly forego. She’d miss Sue, but Janice would be here. A tearoom. She envisioned roses climbing trellises and blooming outside the tearoom windows. Perennials of every hue brightening the multiple flowerbeds she and Sam would …
