Lambert's Peace

by Rachel Hauck

  He held up his hand. “Taylor, this is exactly why I—we—want to hire you. Work for us as a consultant. Help us pick the right solution and installation process.”

  “Work for Lambert’s Furniture?”

  “Yes.” He stood, arms out to the side, his expression like he’d discovered genius.

  “I don’t know, Will.” She regarded him, wondering how it would feel to work every day with him. Her goal was to fix her career debacle, not lose herself in White Birch and fall in love, again, with Will Adams. “My career is important to me.”

  Will tipped his head to one side. “Consulting for a multimillion-dollar furniture company would look nice on a résumé.”

  She glanced up at him, squinting in the sunlight. “Can I pray about it?”

  He knelt in front of her, forearms propped on his knees. “Absolutely.”

  Taylor wandered upstairs to her room, her thoughts a million miles away.

  “Taylor, is that you?” Mom knocked lightly on the bedroom door and peeked inside.

  “It’s me.” Taylor kissed her on the cheek. “You look happy.”

  “Your dad just beat me at Scrabble.” Her delicate smile fanned the tiny lines of her cheeks and around her eyes. “Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  “Need help?” Taylor grabbed clothes to wear after her shower.

  Mom waved both hands. “No. Go visit with your dad. He’s in the library.” She started down the stairs. “Tim, Dana, and the kids are coming tonight.”

  “That’ll liven things up.”

  After her shower, Taylor knocked on the library door, her hair still wet.

  “Come in,” Dad called. “Did you have a nice run?” He closed his Bible.

  “I did.” Taylor sat on the window seat. She loved the library. It was bright from the southern exposure and cozy with its overstuffed Lambert’s Furniture chair, ottoman, and a rocker. This was Tim’s old room, but after he married Dana, Dad knocked out a wall to make a library.

  “Will offered me a job,” she said.

  Dad stood and stretched. “Really?”

  Taylor stared out the window. “He wants me to consult on the purchase of a new business system.”

  Dad joined her on the window seat. “They’ve been wanting to upgrade for a long time.”

  Taylor looked at him. His cheeks were pink again, his eyes bright. “Should I do it?”

  “If you want,” Dad said, his words even, not hinting of a yes or a no.

  “What about my career?”

  “What about it?”

  Taylor stood, feet apart, arms folded. “If I work for Lambert’s, I’ll get caught up in the job, give a hundred and ten percent, and forget to keep looking out there.” She motioned toward the window. She felt like a stuck record, repeating the same mantra, but she felt driven to land a CPA position with a lucrative firm.

  “It’s a consulting job, Taylor. A good line for your résumé. Unaccounted-for time is a negative, you know.” Dad regarded her for a moment. “Still hurts, does it?”

  “What still hurts?” She walked over to the desk where faded black and white photographs lined the edges.

  “Losing Will.”

  Remembering pressed her emotions to the surface. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Which is crazy after ten years.”

  She picked up a gold-framed picture of her parents on their wedding day in 1960. They smiled in black and white, walking up the church aisle, holding hands. That’s what she had wanted with Will. But he wasn’t ready.

  Dad stood behind her now. “I almost lost your mom.” He chuckled as he remembered. “She was a feisty one.”

  Taylor whirled round, the picture still in her hands. “Who, pixie Trixie?”

  Dad gave her a deep nod. “Your grandpa insisted she marry into money and culture. Bringing home a common laborer from the furniture mill didn’t fit Raymond’s idea of a suitable husband for his little girl.”

  Taylor sat against the desk. “I never heard this. What’d you do?”

  “Never gave up. Prayed a lot, as I recall. Did what I had to do to convince her father she’d have a wonderful life with me. For a while she dated Lem Maher down in Boston. I almost lost her then.”

  “Lem Maher of Maher Stationary and Business Supplies?”

  “That’d be the one.”

  “Wow, Dad. Pretty rico competition.” She rolled the r in rico.

  He winked. “Love conquers all. Even money.”

  She put the picture back and crossed her arms. “And the moral to this story is?” She furrowed her brow.

  Dad returned to his chair. “Not sure. Maybe there’s a reason you and Will aren’t married—to each other or anyone else. Maybe there’s a reason you quit your job and moved home. Maybe there’s a reason you showed up just when Will needed help with a new business system. Maybe there’s a reason he asked you to help him. Maybe there’s a reason you should say yes.”

  Taylor looked at him, a wry twist on her lips. “Aren’t you full of reason tonight?”

  Mom called up the stairs. “Grant, the kids are here. Taylor … “

  Dad walked toward the door. “I can see lots of reasons why you should work for Lambert’s Furniture. Least of all, finding out if you still love Will.”

  Taylor stopped him before he walked out. “I don’t want to fall in love with him, Dad. It’s over, too late.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Then don’t. But do the job. Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.”

  For Will, matters of the heart confounded him. They were confusing and complicated. He liked specific processes and procedures, clear-cut goals with achievable results. Why couldn’t falling in love be like earning his MBA, running a business, or making furniture?

  Instead, he had to navigate the minefield of Taylor’s emotions. He had no map of her heart or his, no blueprint, no how-to manual. No way to know if he trod on dangerous ground.

  Loving Taylor fell into a completely different category than loving his family and friends—the category of difficult and hard. Because if she didn’t love him back, he didn’t know what he would do.

  Will pondered his relationship with Taylor as he parked his truck at Lambert’s Furniture and trekked to the office door.

  Did he love Taylor? After ten years? It didn’t make sense, but then matters of the heart never did.

  Will checked Bobby’s office as he walked by. “I saw Taylor. Made my proposal.”

  Bobby reclined in his chair. “And?”

  “She’s praying about it.”

  “Does she know you proposed a job, not marriage?” Bobby asked.

  “Funny.”

  Bobby walked around his desk and shut his office door. “Got a minute?”

  Will took a chair. “I know what you’re going to say, Bob.”

  “Then why don’t you do something about it?”

  Will gazed at the ceiling for a second, thinking. Slowly he shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  “Do you know how unlikely it is for a beautiful, intelligent woman like Taylor to be available and in town just when you’re finally ready to settle down?”

  “She wants a career, Bob. She always has.”

  “She wants you. She always has.”

  Will regarded him. “Not anymore. She told me.”

  “Told you what?” Bobby asked.

  “That I’m married to Lambert’s Furniture and she’s married to out there.” He pointed at nothing. “Besides, she’s going on a date with Jordan West.” Will shook his head. How could he even consider the notion that he might be in love with her?

  Bobby nudged him. “Since when did no ever stop you?”

  Will rubbed his forehead. “You sound like Grandpa.”

  Bobby grinned. “Thanks.”

  Will thought for a moment, rubbing his chin, then said, “I guess I could tell you now. After all, it’s been ten years.”

  “Tell me what?” Bobby waited.

  “What happened after your wedding reception.”


  A light rap on the door interrupted the story before it began. Ethan stuck his head inside. “Will, Martin Leslie’s on the phone again. He really wants to talk to you about his last shipment.”

  Will slapped his hands against his knees and stood. “I’m on my way.”

  Bobby patted his shoulder as he passed. “We can talk later. See you at the grandparents’ tonight?” Will paused in the doorway. “I’ll be there.”

  Taylor read her e-mail to Lisa Downey one last time. Short and to the point, she simply apologized for her attitude during her final days at Blankenship & Burns.

  It was never my intent to hurt you or your department. My actions and attitude were unprofessional. Please forgive me.

  Sincerely,

  Taylor Hanson

  She moved the cursor to the SEND button. Praying, she hesitated a second.

  She didn’t expect Lisa Downey to change her mind—or respond with her own apology. Taylor merely wanted to close a door she’d left ajar.

  “Lord, here goes.” She clicked SEND.

  Downstairs, laughter reverberated from the family room where her parents played a board game with Tim, Dana, and the boys, Quentin and Jarred.

  As Taylor came down, feeling like a weight had been lifted, she winked at Claire who was ending a conversation on her cell phone.

  “What’s up, Aunt Taylor?” she asked, clicking her phone shut.

  Taylor smiled. “Not much.” She sat on the edge of the ottoman. “Can I ask you a question?” Claire flopped against the couch cushions.

  “Sure.”

  “If you cared about someone but they didn’t care for you, what would you do?”

  Taylor squared her shoulders, thoughtful. “Boy or girl?”

  Claire hesitated. “Boy.”

  “How long have you, or someone, cared about the guy?”

  Claire pinched her lips together then muttered, “Awhile.”

  “Well, the new wisdom of today is if a guy is into you, he’ll let you know.”

  Claire nodded. “That’s true.”

  “Otherwise, move on. Don’t waste your time on a guy who’s not treating you like you’re queen of the universe. Move to New York, get a job, work yourself to death.”

  Claire laughed. “Like you?”

  Taylor winced. “Yes, like me.”

  “Dad said Will Adams broke your heart.”

  The words punched up old feelings. “Yeah, well, your dad says a lot of things.”

  Claire moved to the ottoman. “What should I do?”

  “Who is he?”

  She shrugged. “Some guy from White Birch Community College.”

  “Claire, if I were you, here’s what I’d do. Go home and write down all the ways you think you should be treated. Be real and honest. Write down how the Lord would want you to be treated. Your parents. Your friends. And if the guy doesn’t measure up, he’s not for you.”

  “His loss?” Claire asked, her voice weak and unsure.

  “Yes, his loss,” Taylor repeated, strong and sure, then kissed Claire’s forehead. “You’re too beautiful and precious to me, your parents, Grandma, Grandpa, and especially the Lord. Don’t let any guy treat you like you’re not.”

  From the family room, Tim called for Claire to join the game.

  “In a minute, Dad,” she answered.

  “Sounds like he’s getting clobbered,” Taylor said, smiling. “Probably. Can I ask you something else, Aunt Taylor?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why’d you quit your job? Dad said you loved it and loved life in New York.”

  Taylor laughed. “See, I told you your dad says a lot of things.” Claire giggled. “He does.”

  “Claire, sometimes you have to let go of one dream to realize another.”

  “Claire, help,” Tim called again.

  “You’d better go.” Taylor nudged her niece.

  “What is your other dream?” Claire asked, standing.

  Taylor regarded her. “I’ll let you know when I wake up.”

  Claire smiled and hurried to partner with her father, and Taylor went to the kitchen for the cordless phone. Breathing deeply, she dialed.

  On the other end, the answering machine picked up.

  “Will, hi, it’s Taylor. I guess you’re not home ‘cause I’m talking to your machine. Thank you for your job offer. I’d be honored to help Lambert’s Furniture. I can start Wednesday.”

  nine

  “Come on, help me.” Grandpa tapped Will on the shoulder. “Need more wood for the fire.”

  Will pushed away from the dinner table. “Thanks for dinner, Grandma. It was delicious as usual.”

  “Pineapple upside-down cake coming up next.”

  Outside in the cold, Will helped Grandpa gather logs.

  “I like the direction you’re taking the business, Will.” Grandpa huffed and puffed a little as he hoisted a large log.

  “Glad you approve.”

  “Hiring Taylor was smart.”

  “It’s only an offer right now. It would be a huge blessing to have her experience and expertise on this project.”

  “For more reasons than one,” Grandpa said, grinning as he dusted off his hands. “We’ve got enough wood. Let’s go in.”

  “Grandpa, that’s the only reason.”

  Grandpa opened the kitchen door. “If you say so.” He shook his head.

  “It’s not that simple.” Will dropped the wood by the fireplace, thinking how everyone oversimplified his relationship with Taylor. He tossed another large log onto the fire.

  As he dusted bits of dirt and wood from his hands, Will’s cousin Elizabeth approached. “Here, your arms look empty. I’m going to help Grandma.” She handed him her one-year-old son, Matthew.

  Will held the squirming child in the crook of his arm. When Matthew’s father, Kavan, came around the corner, he laughed.

  “Whoa, Will, he’s not a football.” Kavan set the boy upright.

  Will grinned and glanced self-consciously around the room. “It’s been a long time since I held a baby.”

  Ethan and Julie flopped onto the couch with plates of cake. “Looking good, Will. Thinking about getting one of those?” Ethan asked.

  “He needs a wife first,” Will’s dad, Buddy, said.

  Will held up his free hand. “Stop.” He tried to jiggle little Matt to prove how good he was with children, but the little boy simply cried.

  Julie stood, reaching her arms out. “Hand him over.”

  As more of the family gathered around the fire and talk of marriage and babies increased, Will stepped out. He needed to think.

  The night was dark, but he knew his way down to the covered bridge without a light. The wind blew against his face, sharp and cold, until he reached the cover of the old bridge.

  “Lord, all this pressure about Taylor …” He leaned against the weatherworn walls, hands in his pockets.

  Suddenly, a small circle of light flashed across the bridge. “Grandma sent me down with this.” Bobby held up a steaming mug of coffee.

  Will grinned, reaching for the large cup. “It was getting crowded in there.”

  Bobby propped himself next to Will. “They just want you to be happy.”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  “Well, they mean married happy.”

  “Naturally.”

  Bobby ran the flashlight’s beam along the bridge’s rafters. “I carved mine and Elle’s initials right over there, I think, the night we got engaged.”

  Will’s gaze followed the beam. “I don’t think there’s any room up there for more initials.”

  Bobby laughed. “You get engaged, I’ll find room.”

  “Two miracles in one night. Don’t know if the world could take it.”

  “What happened the night of my wedding?” Bobby asked.

  Will sipped his coffee. He’d been expecting the question. How strange to share it now after so many years.

  “Taylor and I came up here to the bridge. Maybe it was the ro
mance of the moon, maybe it was your wedding, but love was in the air. Definitely in the air.”

  “I remember it was really warm that night. We had an outdoor reception and all I wanted was to leave with Elle and get into air-conditioning.” Bobby laughed. “Seems so stupid now.”

  Will continued, the memory awakened. “Taylor wanted to go wading. We didn’t have a flashlight. I had on my tux. She had on her bridesmaid’s dress.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “We laughed so hard, I fell in. She tore the hem of her dress and stubbed her toe on a rock. When I tried to drive her home, my old orange Camaro wouldn’t start, so we walked to Mom and Dad’s.”

  “That’s five miles, Will.”

  “I know. I carried her piggyback for half of it. She had on these funky shoes that were impossible to walk in.” Recalling the picture made him laugh out loud.

  “So, what went wrong?”

  Will picked up the story. “I knew I was in love with her. But I started grad school in the fall, and I wanted to be focused. Besides, all she ever talked about was living in Manhattan. I didn’t think we were ready for the kind of love I was feeling.”

  “And you told her?”

  Will looked out into the darkness, the coffee mug warm in his hand. “Are you kidding? I had the safe plan: Say nothing. Of course, I kissed her, which didn’t help.”

  “What happened next?” Bob prodded.

  “I got the keys to Dad’s car and took her home. By then our feelings were so raw and out there, we didn’t say anything. I’ve never, ever felt like that before or since. I knew I couldn’t even kiss her again, ‘cause if I did …” He stopped and drew a deep breath. “When I pulled into the Hansons’ drive, she leaned over, told me she loved me, and … “

  Will stopped. How could such an old memory provoke such a new love?

  “Hey, don’t leave me hanging.”

  “She asked me to marry her.” Bobby choked. “What?”

  Will tossed out the last of his coffee and strolled down the length of the bridge. “She wanted to elope to New York—get married.”

  “Wow, I can’t imagine Taylor laying her heart on the line like that.”

  Will shook his head. “I told you love was in the air.”