“Oh, yes.” She rocked in an easy slow rhythm. “He was blond and tall like your young man. Very handsome.”
That’s right. Josie remembered Cole telling her on their first date about Miss Estelee having been in love. The picnic by the angel monument . . . the memory of it caused the ache in her heart to intensify. She swallowed hard. “But you didn’t marry?”
“No.”
A profound sadness seemed to etch the woman’s words as well as every line in her time-weary face. She stopped rocking. Became quiet and very still.
“What happened?”
“We were from different worlds. I thought I could live the rest of my days without him. Then I went and did some silly thing to try and make him jealous, thinking he’d . . .” The old lady’s words trailed into silence, then she shook off her faraway thoughts. She resumed her rocking motion, this time faster, like she was troubled by her unhappy memories. “It didn’t make no difference, ’cept for I found myself in a world of misery.
“I lost everything. Let me tell you somethin’, Missy,” she stood and faced Josie. “When you’re old and alone, like me, with no children of your own to love and no one to take care of you . . . It’s a terrible thing havin’ to depend on the charity of others when you got no one else.
“What’s worse is the knowin’. The knowin’ that I could’ve had so much more than what I wound up with, and the knowin’ that I got nobody to blame for it but myself.”
With tears shining in her clear blue eyes, Miss Estelee slowly made her way into her house. Josie’s chest tightened. She squeezed her arms and turned away. In that moment, everything focused into harsh clarity. Her pride stood between her and Cole. She’d been angry and hurt in the beginning, but now she just felt empty.
She felt her feet drag as she forced herself to walk into town when all she could think of was curling up on the bed in a darkened room and having a good cry.
Instead, she would smile and go through the motions for the groundbreaking while standing next to Cole. She was afraid that pulling that off would require better acting skills than she possessed.
*
The Memorial Day celebration was a success. As usual, the entire town turned out. She even saw Miss Estelee sitting on the park bench near the angel monument with Doc Prescott fetching her lemonade from the tables Dixie had set up in the middle of town.
Everyone seemed pleased with the plans Cole and Mrs. McKay presented for the new addition to the library. Pleased that someone they admired had done so well for himself, regardless of which side of the ridge he called home. Well, almost everyone. Some folks up here would never accept Cole, no matter how much success he achieved. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked almost . . . hopeful?
Josie didn’t have time to puzzle about it. Shovels spray-painted gold and decorated with red, white, and blue ribbons were given to her, Cole, Mrs. McKay, and Mayor Houston for the ceremonial moving of the first clumps of dirt. Josie smiled and posed for pictures taken by Joe Easterday, photographer for The Angel Ridge Herald. Now, with the parade down Main over and the picnicking complete, a magnificent sunset would be the precursor to fireworks over the lake.
Couples walked hand in hand down to the shore with lawn chairs and kids in tow. Angel Ridge always put on a spectacular fireworks display, followed by music and dancing at the gazebo in the Town Square. This was a time for couples. A time for families. Time for Josie to go home and have that cry.
She turned to begin the long walk down Main to Ridge Road only to find Cole standing in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking her way. He had that familiar red plaid blanket draped over his arm, and the thumb of his free hand hooked into the back pocket of his black jeans.
Even after all that had happened between them, seeing him still took her breath away. Although she hated the shorter styled haircut he’d adopted in his quest for respectability, she had to admit that he looked incredibly handsome. He was wearing that loose-fitting white shirt she remembered from that night he took her up to the tall pines.
He approached her slowly. Josie couldn’t have moved a muscle if she’d wanted to. Her traitorous heart kicked into overdrive as he neared.
“I was hopin’ I could talk you into joining me for the fireworks.”
Josie’s racing heart jumped and lodged somewhere in the region of her throat. In her years of growing up in Angel Ridge, she’d always watched the fireworks with her parents. All the while, she’d dreamed of sitting by the lake with a handsome man, his arms linked around her as they watched the fireworks display that would herald the beginning of summer.
Strolling down the hillside leading to the lake with Cole at her side would more than fulfill every childhood fantasy she’d ever had. She sighed. How she longed to spend this and every evening with Cole. But, so much stood between them.
He took another step forward and softly said, “Can we call a truce, Josie? Just for a few hours?”
She looked up into the soft blue eyes of the only man that she’d ever loved and with tears stinging her eyes said, “Yes.”
Cole smiled and took her hand. He led her to a spot away from the crowd. He spread the blanket, and then with a hand at her elbow, helped her sit.
“Thank you,” she said.
He joined her on the blanket. “Thank you.”
He sat so close she could feel his heat, smell the familiar scent of his cologne. Despite the warmth of the late May evening, she shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“No, I . . . No.”
Cole trailed a hand up and down her arm in a slow, sweeping movement that did wild things to her tortured, fractured heart.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered.
Days of being without him, without feeling his touch, made her weak. She swayed toward him. “I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted.
He cupped her cheek in his hand. Josie closed her eyes and just let herself feel again.
“Honey, I never meant to hurt you. As Dixie would say, I went all male. I just saw a situation and thought I could fix it. I was an idiot, and I hope you can forgive me.”
She knew he was talking about the donation to the library, but she needed to go deeper than that. “Why did you do it, Cole? Pretend to be a simple handyman when clearly, you’re so much more?” The clues had been there all along, but Josie had been so overwhelmed by her feelings for Cole, she’d ignored them.
He shrugged and looked away. “These people up here, they’ve sort of carved out a place for me, and the fact is that no matter what I do, how much money I make, or how many degrees I earn, I’ll still be a Craig from the wrong side of the ridge.”
“Why couldn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to.”
Realization hit her. “The picnic at the Fort.”
“Yeah. That day sort of got away from me.”
“You should have told me from the beginning.”
“I know that now.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
“I guess, at base, I wanted to know it was me you cared for, not who or what I am.”
“The only thing that ever mattered to me was who you were in here.” She pressed her hand against his heart. Its strong, steady beat against her palm brought some life back into hers.
He covered her hand with his and said, “It mattered at first. Even at the end, you were hiding behind a big hat and sunglasses when we were out together.”
Josie pulled her hand away, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. “I’m not proud of that, but it wasn’t you. I just hadn’t figured out how to deal with Mrs. McKay. She knew I was seeing you and didn’t approve.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Josie shrugged. “I guess I was embarrassed. I hated to admit that I had allowed myself to become so indebted to a person that I unwittingly put them in a position to dictate my social life. If I’m so intelligent, I should have been able to keep myself out of that kind of situation.”
&nbs
p; “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“You deserved better.”
He took her hand and stared at it. “I know what I did was wrong, but I just wanted to be someone you could be proud of.”
“You were . . . you are.” There. She’d said it. She squeezed his hand and dipped her head so that she could look into his eyes as she said the words in her heart. “I’m proud of what you’ve made of yourself, but I would have been just as proud if you were the town handyman.”
Cole gave her a quick, gentle kiss as the first of the fireworks lit up the night sky to the delight and applause of all assembled. Josie could hear the band tuning up in Town Square as they prepared for the dancing that would follow.
The night seemed full of magic with Cole here. In their time together, he’d opened up possibilities she’d never dared dream of for herself. But sitting here with him, the possibility of her spending the rest of her life making a family with a man that she loved seemed within her grasp.
“Come here,” Cole said. He pulled her around to sit in front of him so that she leaned back against the solidity of his chest and rested her head against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Can you forgive me?”
“Only if you can forgive me for making you wonder if I could care about you.”
“I’ll forgive you, if you do care about me.”
She turned in his arms and touched his face with her fingertips. “I care about you, Cole Craig.”
His smile lit up the night like no fireworks ever could.
She swung around and leaned back against him.
He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “You have the most beautiful hair. I love it hanging loose like this around your shoulders.”
He trailed a gentle hand through it. She closed her eyes and sighed as more fireworks sailed into the sky over the lake.
“You know, I think I’ve loved you since you were a little girl. While you read those books at recess, I’d try and make sure the ball rolled near you at least once so I could get a look at the title of the books, and after school, I’d go down to the library and check them out.”
“Really?” Josie smiled up at him.
Cole grinned and nodded. “I especially liked your Mark Twain phase. And when you were older, the Shakespearian sonnets. I dreamed of reciting them to you, but I never got the chance.” He paused. “Things might have been different if . . .”
“If you hadn’t had to drop out of school?” Josie supplied.
“Who knows? I mean, you never even noticed me.”
“I noticed you,” Josie insisted. “How could I not have with the way you used to stand up for me when all the other boys teased me?”
A slow smile brought the brightness back to his eyes. “Remember the time the oldest Jones boy—Jack—flipped your dress up in back.” Cole laughed. “You were so embarrassed.”
Even now, her face grew warm at the memory. “I was mortified.”
“I blacked his eye out behind old man Wallace’s barn for that.”
Josie felt her jaw drop. “You didn’t.”
His smile returned, this time mischievous, as he looked down at her. “Those sure were some pretty pink panties, Josie Lee.”
“Cole Craig!” She felt her face redden even more.
A big red heart lit up the sky. The words inside it read, “Cole loves Josie.”
Josie gasped.
Cole whispered against her ear, “I love you, Josephine Lee Allen. Please say you’ll forgive me.”
“Oh, Cole.” She shifted and rested her hands against his chest. Tears stung her eyes when she said, “There’s nothing to forgive.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
He pulled her closer and kissed her for a long, breathless moment. When at last he released her, he said, “Thank goodness, because this next one would have been real embarrassing if you’d walked off and left me sittin’ here all alone.”
Josie frowned. Cole pointed up at the sky, and when she looked up, she saw another red heart. The words inside this one read, “Marry me?”
She hadn’t noticed before, but every eye in Angel Ridge was focused on them. She didn’t care. She loved Cole Craig. She was proud of Cole Craig. And she wanted the world to know.
“Yes!” she said clearly enough for several people to hear. “Oh, yes,” she whispered for his ears alone. Word would spread through the town like a rushing wind sweeping across the shoreline. When she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, she could have sworn she heard Dixie Ferguson say, “Well, it’s about time.”
The sound of applause and cheers sounded all around them. Tears filled her eyes when he pulled a velvet box out of his pocket and opened it. Nestled against the velvet lining was an exquisite square diamond in an antique silver setting.
“This ring has been in my family for generations. I hope you’ll wear it.”
All Josie could do was nod as the tears spilled down her cheeks. Could a person die of such happiness? She didn’t deserve so many blessings.
Cole lifted the ring out of the box. “There’s a story behind this. An angel’s wings hold the diamond in place. It’s told there’s a magic in it that causes it to fit only if there’s true and abiding love between the giver and the recipient.”
He slid the ring on her finger and said, “A perfect fit.”
He reverently touched his lips to the ring where he’d placed it on her finger, and then he gave her a kiss that seemed to seal the promise of their life together.
“When will you marry me?” he asked when he at last lifted his head.
She chewed her lower lip. As happy as she was, she wanted to savor their relationship. Wanted to learn how to be a girlfriend before she became a wife. “Would you mind if we had a long courtship?”
Cole frowned. “Define long.”
She touched his hair. “Long enough for your hair to grow back.”
Cole ran his fingers through the shortened tresses. “I thought it made me look more respectable.”
She smoothed her hand down his neck and inside his collar, around to his chest. “I like you a little disreputable.”
“I like hearing you say that you like me . . .”
“How does a Christmas wedding sound?”
“Like a good way to start the New Year.”
His next kiss was the stuff dreams were made of. Miss Estelee was right. You couldn’t judge a book by its cover. The true love of the man who held her tightly in his arms was so much better than any love she’d ever read about in a book. It was a blessing for which she would be thankful the rest of her life.
Epilogue
And that’s the story of Josie and Cole. Don’t it just make you want to go right out and fall in love yourself? I can tell you, they’ve got this whole town helpin’ them plan their weddin’. Josie says she’s not much for them kind of things, and well, we’re all too happy to lend a hand.
And let me just say, she needs all the help she can get. That mother of hers means well, but she just about had a heart attack when we sat down to plan menus. Josie wants chicken salad sandwiches—picnic style in December—for the rehearsal dinner, and chicken and dumplins for the sit down reception dinner to serve two hundred fifty. I say, give the woman what she wants. It’s her wedding. But you know how folks can be.
Cole’s mother and aunt—better known around here as the sisters—what a pair! They couldn’t be happier, but with what they’re plannin’ . . . well, let’s just say that if I was Cole, I’d be real careful of that pole they expect him to ride out of the reception on! Lordy, these folks and their mountain ways. Looks dangerous to me, if you know what I mean, but to each his own. You wouldn’t want to do anything that might cause bad luck for the happy couple.
Seriously, folks, I hope you enjoyed gettin’ to know a few of my neighbors here in Angel Ridge. Some of us might put on airs every now and then, but at heart, we all care and watch out for one another. Well, most of u
s anyway. It’s like family. You’re not always gonna see eye to eye. You might make each other crazy from time to time—maybe even most of the time—but in the end, you’re still family. Towns, like families, are important. They’re at the heart of who we are. At the end of the day, I feel blessed to call Angel Ridge home.
I hope you’ll see fit to come visit us again, sometime. We sure enjoyed havin’ you.
The Story of Angel Ridge
Deborah Grace Staley is pleased to share this special original short story, available exclusively in the Bell Bridge Books’ edition of Only You
The Guardian
“He shall give His angels charge concerning you.”
Matthew 4:6
In the Wilderness, just over the mountains
East of North Carolina, 1785
“Go back . . . ”
Mary dropped the berry she’d intended for her basket. “Who’s there?”
She turned in a circle, but saw no one. Frowning, she returned to her task.
Her mother had sent her to pick enough blackberries for two pies. Her sigh was heavy as she plucked another berry. Her best friend, Lizzie Craig, had asked that snippety little Charlotte McKay to play hide and seek when she’d said she had to go outside the fort to gather berries.
Mary sighed again. This would take forever. She hated picking berries and working in the garden while her friends got to play. She also hated feeding the chickens, sweeping the porch, hanging the wash, and any number of the other endless chores she’d had to do since she and her family had moved to East Tennessee with her father and mother.
They’d lived in a grand home in Virginia, and there had been servants to do all the chores. Sometimes, in the early morning before she woke, Mary could swear she smelled Miss Ellie’s cinnamon bread warming by the hearth oven. But then she woke, splashed water on her face, dressed and walked to the well, feet dragging, to bring in a bucket of water to wash the morning dishes after her breakfast of oatmeal had been eaten. Mary wrinkled her nose. She hated oatmeal, too.
Here, she lived in a two-room cabin that had a loft and sat at the foot of a mountain. Mother said the sunrises and sunsets were beautiful. Mary couldn’t figure how that was any different from Virginia. The sun rose and set there, too. And in Virginia, all she had to do was play and go to school, of course. Here the chores never seemed to end, and there’d be more of those after her new baby sister arrived. Mother kept saying they’d take whatever God gave them, but God surely wanted her have a sister.
Only You Page 18
