by Wesley Banks
"What are you doing?" Katie said.
Kyle stopped momentarily and rested the shovel underneath his chin as he turned to face her. "I was trying to dig out these last few holes to finish the seventh run, but I imagine that's probably just hopeless," he said, his emphasis on the last word.
Katie's smile faded. "Why do you say that?"
"Look around. You tell me. The dirt, the dust, the emptiness. What is there to hope for?" Kyle stared intently at Katie. She was reminded of a wounded animal trying to inflict the same pain it felt.
She was caught off guard, but she realized immediately what he was referring to. "You read my work?"
Kyle didn't answer. Instead, he just jammed the shovel back into the earth and continued working.
She wanted to scream at him. He had no right to read her words—even if they were about him. It was still her private thoughts. But her feelings softened as she continued to watch him, his eyes fixed on the ground, his jaw tight as he grit through the pain of what he was trying to do. He was hurt, and in being hurt trying to hurt back.
With the loss of King still a fresh wound, Katie didn't press the issue. She didn't yell or react in the way she knew she was justified. Instead, she explained.
"Those were unfinished words, just thoughts on a page. They don’t mean what you think."
"And what exactly do I think they mean?" Kyle offered as bait.
Katie didn't bite. "Kyle, that's not fair. You know what I'm trying to say. Those words were not meant—"
He cut her off. "—for me to read?" He shook his head as he continued to stare at the ground. Then he looked up at her, holding her gaze. "You were right. I am hopeless without him. Everything about me felt empty when I woke and he was gone. And then...yesterday happened."
Katie’s eyes were wet as she stepped forward, touching Kyle lightly on the shoulder.
He shrugged her off, turning away from her as Biscuit and Belle came padding up behind him, tails wagging. They both rose on their hind legs, resting their forepaws against the chicken wire, peering in at the other dogs. Katie moved forward again with her hand facing the ground, to pet them. Before they could reach her, Kyle harshly corrected them, signing fiercely for them to get down and back away.
Belle ran off, but Biscuit sat next to him, ears pressed flat against her neck, her head hung low. Kyle signaled again, this time also snapping his fingers and Biscuit trotted off, looking back several times.
"Why did you do that? Just because you're mad at me doesn't mean you have to treat them like that."
"Mad at you?" Kyle scoffed. "I'm not mad at you. I'm disappointed."
Katie's heart sank when she heard those words. They struck her like lightning.
"I understand how you see me—some lost boy hanging on to a bunch of dogs like a child because it's the only thing I know. And maybe you’re right. I’ve hardly even left this farm since my parents died.”
"What do you want from me?" she asked.
Kyle glanced at Katie, tears streaming from her eyes, and then turned his back on her. He picked up the shovel. "I want you to go.”
She had no words. She just stood there for a moment, motionless. Her eyes moved from Kyle to the dogs. The only thing she noticed before she walked away was the absence of King.
Chapter 37
It took Katie less than an hour to get all her things together, and almost another hour to lug them from the cottage to her car.
It had only been ten days, but it felt weird to open the door to her car. The light blue metal was caked in a layer of beige dust and bits of clay.
She walked back to the house thinking she’d leave Doc a quick thank-you note, but when she got to the steps he was waiting for her.
“Leaving so soon?” Doc said.
Katie tried to force a smile. “I think I have officially worn out my welcome.”
“Nonsense. You are welcome here anytime and for as long as you’d like.”
Not everyone would agree, Katie thought.
“Well, if you really must go, at least let me send you off with a little something. Just give me one second.”
“You don’t need to…” Katie started to say, but Doc disappeared into the house. When he came back out he was holding a plate of biscuits in one hand and a jar of peach jam in the other.
“Dooocc,” Katie whined. “Are you trying to make me fat?”
He handed them to her. “Oh hush, this stuff is good for you. It’s got peaches in it.”
Katie stopped laughing for a moment and looked at Doc seriously. “Doc. I really do appreciate you letting me stay for so long.”
“Like I said before—you are welcome here anytime. Anytime at all.”
“May I ask one more favor?”
“Anything.”
She opened her purse and pulled out a brown canvas book with gold lettering etched across the cover. There was a folded piece of paper stuck in between the pages. She handed the book to Doc and said, “Would you give this to Kyle?”
Doc nodded. “Of course.”
Katie turned and took several steps down the porch stairs and then paused at the bottom. "By the way—the painting you have? I looked it up. It means ‘Fall seven times; stand up eight.’”
Doc smiled. "Yes, Miss Price. I know."
"But I thought you said you didn't know what it meant."
"Did I? I s’pose sometimes the things we say aren't always the things we mean."
And with that he walked back into the house, letting the makeshift screen door clatter behind him one last time.
Chapter 38
Dear Kyle,
Letters often remind me of pictures. There is always so much you want to capture, but only so much you are able to. With that in mind, most of what I want to say is just thank you.
Thank you for letting me walk into your world as a stranger and leave as a friend, even if you would not consider us that any longer.
Thank you for allowing me time with the dogs, time that I will treasure forever.
Thank you for hoping that night in the barn when all hope may have been lost. I owe you my life, a life I would gladly trade to give you King's back.
Above all I want you to know one last thing. The words that you read on those sheets of paper hurt you. I know this, because they hurt me to write them. But my father always taught me that sometimes the most beautiful stories can only be found in places where we risk everything. Where we are vulnerable and sometimes hopeless.
When I was a little girl, I would beg my father to read me his poems. One of my favorites was in the first book of poems he ever wrote. I loved it so much that one day he tore part of the poem right out of the book for me. I’ve carried it around for almost fifteen years, and I want you to have it.
Let the rain add to our tears
Until the day when all pain has stopped
And we will say there was hope in every raindrop
Last but not least, please take care of this book. The author’s name on the spine is faded. But if you could read it, it would say Matthew Price. My father.
Kyle's hands trembled as he held the torn sheet of paper in his hand. He thumbed through the book until he found the page it had been torn from. Fitting it back to the page he read the poem in full. He must have read it a thousand times as a boy. It had meant so much to him. But now…
He folded the letter back into thirds and turned back towards the house. Doc was standing on the porch, his rocking chair abandoned.
"Did you know?" Kyle asked. Doc didn’t respond. “The words you said to me as a boy—those were her father’s words. How is that even possible?"
"Have you learned nothing from King?"
Those words struck a painful cord as Kyle lowered his head, and Doc handed over the book. Kyle flipped the pages until he found the poem. “Hope in Every Raindrop.” He read it in full, for the first time.
"All things are possible,” Doc continued.
Thunder lashed out against the darkened sky. Kyle’s c
hest rose and fell as he breathed heavily. He could almost envision King standing against the horizon as Doc went on.
“There has to be hope. Not because it already exists within you, but because it must exist, period. There is no option to lay down because you’re feeling hurt. There is no alternative. It is not live or die. It is live or live. Not because you want it that way, or because you've willed it that way. But because it must be that way.
“King understood this that night in the barn. Now, I'm asking you to understand. You once told me that King would stand out there on rainy days. And just before the rain would fall, he would run. Not from the rain, but before it. As a boy, you’d go on and on about it.
“But you were wrong. He did not run from the rain, or before it. He ran to you. And now you have to run to her.”
Doc didn’t even finish his words before Kyle handed him the book and took off.
“I didn’t actually mean to literally run after her,” Doc yelled. But the sound of screeching tires and a horn drowned out his words.
Chapter 39
Katie pulled to the edge of the property where the dirt road ended and the paved road began. She looked to her right, down the same road that had led her here. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to leave the dogs and Doc. She didn’t want to leave Kyle. Why couldn’t he understand they were just words on a page? Why does he look past me and see the words? Why can’t he look past the words and see me?
Katie leaned her head forward against the steering wheel as small drops of rain began to fall against her windshield.
She watched the rain dance across her window and listened to the thunder echo over the land. Something about it calmed her. She took a deep breath, and sat back up.
For a moment, she thought about turning around and trying to explain everything to him one more time. But she knew it wouldn’t work.
Katie lifted her foot off the brake and turned the steering wheel to the right. Her front tires crunched over the dirt road and onto the wet asphalt. She looked to the left, back to the right, and then slammed on her brakes.
A truck laid on its horn and swerved around her as it came around the corner, but she didn’t even blink. Standing in front of her was a large black dog. It wasn’t just any black dog, though. Its front legs were lean and narrow. Its chest broad, and its eyes fixed on Katie. It was King.
Katie put the car in park and swung open the door. The dog didn’t move.
The rain sounded like tiny drummers against the canvas top of her car. She opened the door and stepped out. The dog didn’t move.
She took several steps, then stopped.
How is this possible? This isn’t possible.
“King?” she said, almost silently.
The dog looked to the right, and Katie followed its gaze behind her.
That’s when she saw him.
He was several hundred feet from her, but she knew it was him. Every movement he made seemed to have a specific purpose. He turned slightly to the left just before he approached a small dip in the road, and then back right to avoid a large rock. He was moving at such a furious pace. He was moving like King.
She turned back around and the dog was gone. Katie ran out into the road where the dog was standing and looked all around. Nothing.
“Katie!” Kyle yelled from about fifty feet away.
She froze.
Kyle continued running until he was about ten feet away, and then stopped.
She could see his chest rise and fall, his breathing heavy, as he walked towards her. She didn’t move. It felt like every muscle in her body had contracted, and she struggled to catch her breath.
When he was just a foot away he stopped. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she returned.
Kyle reached down for her hand, his touch surprising her. For a moment he didn’t say anything. He just looked down as he ran his thumb over her fingers.
“So…what brings you all the way out here?” Katie said, smiling awkwardly.
Kyle didn’t smile with her. He didn’t respond to her comment. He lifted his eyes towards hers and said the only two words she wanted to hear: “Don’t leave.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I was just…”
“I know,” she said.
Kyle didn’t know what else to say. She could see it in his eyes. And for that reason, he didn’t need to say anything at all. Katie leaned in and kissed him.
Kyle followed her back to her car. The rain was letting up and the dark clouds overhead were moving quickly towards the east.
As she reached the car she said, “I’ll stay on one condition.” She looked back to where King had been standing. “Tell me more about King.”
Chapter 40
Doc was waiting for them on the porch when they got back to the house. But as they approached, their clothes still wet from the rain, he didn’t say a word.
Kyle carried her bags past Doc and set them in his bedroom against the wall.
“Do you mind if I take a shower?” Katie said.
“Not at all.” Kyle pulled off his wet shirt and walked over to the laundry basket on the bed full of clean clothes.
Katie didn’t take her eyes off him as he pulled the new shirt over his head.
“What?” Kyle said.
“Oh, nothing,” Katie said with a smile.
Kyle walked over and stood in front of Katie. “I’ve got a few things to finish up with the new pens, so I’ll probably be out back.” Then he leaned in and surprised her with a kiss. It wasn’t a long kiss, or a passionate kiss. It was just a kiss from a guy. The right guy.
When Katie finished her shower she dried her hair the best she could with a towel, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt.
As she stepped through the front door she found Doc still sitting on the porch. The rain was gone and several rays of sun cascaded through the pines. She looked over at him, but he didn’t look back up at her.
“Doc?” she said. “Everything okay?”
Without lifting his arm off the chair, he pointed. She looked down to see Kyle kneeling just off the side of the house. He was with one of Biscuit’s puppies. The all black one—the same one Katie had been holding that day she first saw King.
Surprisingly, the dog sat still for a moment as Kyle placed his hand over its small chest. Then the little dog squirmed and started to bite at his finger.
Katie couldn’t help but smile because she knew that Kyle would find a way into his heart. Just as he’d found a way into hers.
About the Author
Wesley Banks was born and raised in Bradenton, Florida. He graduated from the University of Florida with a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Civil Engineering. After spending over 7 years building movable bridges from Florida to Washington he decided to focus on his true passion: writing.
Wesley recently moved to Oregon to get back to the great outdoors that he loves so much. He lives with his wife Lindsey, and his two dogs Linkin and Story. Most of his time these days is spent writing, with as much rock climbing, hiking, or skiing as he can fit in.
Author Page: WesleyBanksAuthor.com
Note from the Author
I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If so, I would love for you to do two things:
Leave a review telling what you loved about the book.
Come find me at WesleyBanksAuthor.com and let’s connect. I love catching up with my readers.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Cha
pter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Hope In Every Raindrop
Copyright © 2015 by Wesley Banks
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
First Edition: May 2015
ISBN 978-0-9861934-0-8 (e-book)
Chasing Pace Publishing
