Summer Dreams

by Delia Latham

  He nodded. “OK. That’s good enough for me.”

  “Do you think his mother will let me say goodbye?”

  Logan shrugged. “I guess you can try. Just slip through the trees here as quietly as possible, and then stand still. Don’t try to approach them. See if he comes to you.”

  She nodded, stood upright, and then went through the narrow opening between the two cuddling tree trunks.

  The doe’s ears gave a mighty twitch. She made a soft, grunting sound, and the fawn raced to her side. The mother deer came upright in a smooth, graceful motion. Large, round eyes turned toward Summer.

  ****

  Logan eased to his feet, ready to pull Summer back through the trees if the doe seemed confrontational.

  But her fawn darted across the clearing to Summer’s side and nuzzled her hand, just as he had from the beginning. Moving slowly in an obvious attempt to not alarm the doe, Summer knelt beside the young animal. “I see you found your mommy, little one.”

  The fawn stuck his nose into the curve of her neck.

  “I love you too,” Summer whispered, one hand stroking his coarse fur. “I’m glad you came to visit for a few days. I hope I was a good temporary mommy.”

  The doe stood ten or twelve feet away, head lifted, ears on point. She kept a close eye on the exchange between woman and fawn, but made no move to interfere.

  Logan couldn’t look away from the amazing scene.

  Then the large deer took a step closer to Summer and Freckle. Her nostrils flared and relaxed, flared and relaxed. Another step, and then another.

  The unexpected move nearly stopped Logan’s heart, and he found himself frozen in place, unable to take the protective action his instincts urged him toward.

  At last, the mother deer stood next to her little one. With slow, hesitant moves, she brought her nose close enough to touch Summer’s hair, and then to the top of Freckle’s head.

  Summer’s eyes closed. Her lips curved upward in an ecstatic, wondering smile. “You’re welcome,” she whispered. “Thank you for loaning him to me for a while.”

  The doe touched her face to the woman’s head once again, and then nestled it there in an unbelievable display of trust. She stood like that for a full minute or more. Logan wondered if the doe liked the citrusy vanilla scent of Summer’s shampoo as much as he did. Then she took a couple of backward steps and nudged the fawn’s head.

  For a moment, she stared directly into Summer’s wide, enthralled gaze. A soft, chuffing sound came from between velvety lips, and she stepped away.

  One last nuzzle from the fawn, one last slurp of his tongue across the woman’s hand. Then he bounced to his mother’s side, and they both disappeared into the forest.

  Summer remained where she knelt, tears running in rapid rivulets down her cheeks.

  Logan moved close, took up a position on the ground behind her, and pulled her against him. For a long time, they sat like that. He held her while she cried, saying nothing. What could he say, in the face of such a miraculous event? No words could ever describe or adequately explain what had happened in this small clearing on the back end of the Paradise Pines estate.

  Finally, Summer turned sideways, leaned her face against his chest and whispered into the silence of the forest. “Logan.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I’m sorry about last night. I was wrong not to trust you.”

  “I should have been more understanding. Let’s forget it, shall we?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes clear green pools of regret as she cupped his face with one hand. “I’m so ashamed of the way I behaved, when you’ve given me no reason for distrust…and for my lack of compassion and love for Deah.” She moaned, and then hid her face. Her voice was a fuzzy mumble against his chest. “God showed me a pretty ugly reflection of myself in His little jeweled mirror. I must say, I didn’t feel much like a favorite child just then.”

  He chuckled. “My mind can’t even conceive of an ugly you, honey—not in this realm or any other. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, Summer. Inside and out.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not. I’m weak, and I make such awful, ghastly mistakes. I hope Deah can look past me and really see God. We enjoyed a nice chat after she came home last night, and even prayed together. I think she’s genuinely changing.”

  “I’m not surprised, after spending so much time with Miss Angie. Besides, she’s had a wonderful example in you all these years. I think you fail to realize sometimes that you’re only human and entitled to a mistake now and then. Only God is perfect, although I must admit…you’re pretty close, at least in my eyes.”

  She snuggled closer, and soft laughter vibrated against his heart. “Perhaps you should have your eyes examined, Mr. Bullard.”

  “I’ll have you know, Miss Callihan, that I have perfect vision. Twenty-twenty.” He sat up straighter, pushing her away just far enough that he could see her eyes. “Right now, I’m seeing more clearly than I ever have in my life.”

  “Really? And what is it that you see so very clearly?” A teasing note underscored the warmth of her voice, and Logan couldn’t help grinning. He loved the playful side of this woman. Maybe he could help her learn to allow it out more often. For the moment, however, he had something more immediate in mind. “I see the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes in the entire world.” He reached out to trace a finger over the outline of her full, smiling lips. “I see lips so soft and warm I can hardly resist kissing them.”

  “Then don’t resist,” she whispered.

  He grinned. “I have more to say, and if I start kissing you I may never stop.”

  “Well…then say it quick. I’m rather eager for that kiss.”

  Logan swallowed. “Do you have any idea—?” He broke off and shook his head. “First things first. Let’s talk about Freckle.”

  A shadow of sadness passed over her face, and he almost wished he hadn’t mentioned the fawn. But she needed to hear what he had to say.

  “OK. What about him?”

  “Why do you think he wandered up to the lodge and into your life?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t quite figured it out yet. I guess he needed someone to take care of Him, and for some reason, God allowed me the honor.”

  Logan chuckled. “No, honey. I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t?” She lifted herself off his chest and stared into his face. “What then? What do you think?”

  “I think you needed Freckle.” He reached out and tweaked the tip of her nose. “That’s what I think.”

  A little crease appeared between her eyes. “I don’t get it.”

  “Summer…you said you didn’t know how to be a mother. You didn’t understand why God would entrust a fawn into your care.” He chuckled. “Do you realize how very little self-confidence you have?”

  She said nothing for a long time. “I guess so.”

  “Well, I think God wanted to show you that you’re more capable than you give yourself credit for. Every task He gives you, you handle it, and you do it well. You may be nervous and scared, but you get the job done. He wants you to see that, like Mary, Jesus’s mother, you have it in you to take on even the most unexpected and unfamiliar of tasks, and—through obedience and trust—make a success of it.”

  Her eyes moved over his face, not a trace of humor in their depths. Somehow he knew she was looking for even the slightest hint of insincerity or doubt. Logan met her gaze, refusing to so much as blink.

  At last, she drew a deep breath, let it out in one slow exhale…and offered the most beautiful, open, joyous smile.

  “I have the strength of Mary!” Her voice held immense wonder, perhaps even a touch of awe. “Oh, Logan, thank you. I feel as if I’ve ignored a beautifully wrapped gift from God—just let it lie on a table in my heart, waiting to be opened.” A little sigh escaped, and a tiny line appeared between her eyes. “I will try hard to remember.”

  Logan touched one finger to the tiny crease between her brows, strok
ing it, soothing it away. “I won’t let you forget.”

  “Mmm. I can’t remember anything while you’re touching me and looking at me like that.” Summer’s smile stole his breath away—soft and sweet, yet somehow packing an incredible punch of innocent sensuality. She leaned in close and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. “And now…about that kiss?”

  Logan’s captive breath released. He tried to laugh, but what emerged was more like a low growl. So he simply gathered her to him and closed the distance between their lips. Almost. With barely a breath between them, he paused. “Do you know that I love you, my Summer dream?”

  “Mmm…” She made that sound again, unaware that it drove him wild. She closed her eyes, straining toward him, her breath warm against his lips. “If you don’t, my heart’s in a whole world of trouble, because I love you with all that I am, Logan Bullard. Heart and soul, mind and body.”

  “I like the sound of that. And about your heart—I promise to keep it safe, my love.”

  Then he touched his lips to hers, and silence fell once again on the forest.

  ****

  A month later, that same clearing appeared to have sprung right out of a fairytale.

  Tucked inside shrubs and into the branches of surrounding trees, hundreds of tiny lights gave the small glade the appearance of a firefly haven. Dozens of candles created a flickering aisle through the middle of the opening in the woods, ending at an arch in front of two trees that seemed determined to become one. Draped in white tulle and sporting a good many hidden twinkle lights, the wedding arch elicited a gasp from every guest. Of those, there weren’t many.

  Logan and Summer had aimed for a small, cozy gathering.

  All the teens from the shelter were there, dressed in brand new clothes, thanks to an anonymous donation that showed up in the Chrysalis mailbox with neither postage nor a sender’s address.

  Miss Angie. Uncle Barry and Aunt Grace. Logan’s parents, who had fallen in love with Summer from the moment they’d met her. Raine, of course…and Dec, as best man.

  In the shadow of a large eucalyptus at the back edge of the clearing, Summer stood next to Uncle Barry, watching the initial part of the ceremony while waiting for her cue to step out of the sheltering trees.

  Deah made her way down the aisle on Dec’s arm. He left her standing at one side of the twinkling arch while he joined Logan on the other.

  Happiness shone from Deah’s eyes, and Summer smiled. Under Miss Angie’s influence, her cousin’s harsh, flamboyant personality had softened, become less abrasive. The change affected even her appearance. She’d never been so lovely.

  Deah’s gaze was fixed on her plus-one for the evening. Dr. Luke kept showing up at the lodge long after Miss Angie’s ankle needed attention, and for the first time ever, Deah seemed completely happy in the company of just one man. Summer hoped something special would happen between the two…if God was in the pairing.

  In the weeks since they’d prayed together in the upstairs apartment at Paradise Pines, the girls had grown closer. Summer regretted that they’d wasted so many years, but she was thrilled for the relationship developing between them—something like what real sisters might enjoy.

  Uncle Barry took her hand, pulled it through his arm and gave it a pat.

  “Be happy, little Summer. You deserve it.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Your mother would be so proud of you, and so am I. You’re very much like her, you know.”

  Summer stood on tiptoe to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. “Thank you, Uncle Barry. It means so much to me, knowing you think so.”

  He nodded and cleared his throat again.

  Summer gave his arm a squeeze.

  A clear, sweet note of music wound its way through the early evening air, and Summer shook her head. Who knew Miss Angie played the harp? Only when she’d heard Summer and Logan fretting about how music could be brought to their wedding in the woods had she shared her secret…along with her talent, which exceeded all expectations.

  Summer peered through the dusky darkness toward the source of the music. Miss Angie’s ankle-length white sheath seemed to flutter above her feet in a gentle breeze, although no movement of air stirred within the clearing. A sleeveless gold garment, open at the front like a vest but hanging all the way to the ankle, partially covered the sheath. Every now and then, light from the twinkling bulbs and flickering flames caught the shimmer of the vest, creating a golden glow around the musician and her instrument. Slender hands stroked the harp strings, calling forth sounds that surely originated somewhere beyond this realm. Haunting, romantic and otherworldly, the music wove in sweet, magical strains through the small crowd, drawing the attention of every guest, riveting their gazes to the front of the woodland church.

  A beam of moonlight pierced through the layers of foliage and caught Miss Angie’s snow-white hair, turning it into a shining nimbus around her head.

  Summer caught her breath when, for a second or two, shadows behind the older woman seemed to form beautiful, graceful, billowing wings. She laughed softly when the illusion faded. Real or not, she would forever recall her wedding as having been attended by at least one angel.

  Her gaze moved to the arch, where Logan waited with Pastor Merckle and Dec. From her shadowy hideaway, she drank in the sight of him. How could any human man be so perfect, so handsome…and also possess such goodness and gentleness?

  And God had given him to her—the gift of a lifetime.

  Logan called her his “Summer dream,” but she knew the truth. Logan Bullard was the answer to her heart’s every prayer…every wish…every romantic imagination.

  “Ready, little girl?” Uncle Barry asked.

  She nodded, and they stepped out of the shadows and started the slow walk up the aisle, which the Chrysalis teens had painstakingly created with two rows of flickering candles cradled within clear, crystal globes.

  For once, Summer wasn’t put off by the knowledge that every eye in the vicinity was fixed on her. Only one person mattered. Her gaze settled on Logan, whose bemused expression said it all.

  Her beloved found her beautiful beyond words. He loved her from the deepest part of his being and would only love her more as time wore on…as they grew old together.

  Feeling like a real princess in the simple but elegant gown of white silk and lace that Uncle Barry and Aunt Grace had insisted on buying for her, Summer floated ever closer to her waiting bridegroom. Someone must have slipped a cloud beneath her feet, as she didn’t feel them touch the ground even once on her way up the grassy aisle.

  At the arch, Uncle Barry kissed her cheek and placed her hand in Logan’s.

  Before giving her full attention to her groom, Summer turned to watch her uncle walk away…her mother’s brother, who had taken in a scared, lost child, given her a home, and done the best he could to love her as his own. As a tribute to his generosity and honor, she watched until he was seated with Aunt Grace’s hand tucked into his. When he looked up to find her watching him, she smiled. After touching her fingertips to her lips, she opened her hand toward her uncle and aunt and released a gentle push of air, blowing them both a soft, reverent kiss. Then she turned and smiled into the shining eyes of the one to whom her heart belonged.

  Promises were spoken, solemn vows made. In response to the minister’s age-old question, they each answered, “I do.” Summer handed Deah her simple bouquet, and she and Logan slipped carefully chosen rings onto each other’s fingers. She waited, jaws aching from a smile she could not contain, anticipating Brady’s instruction for Logan to seal their promises with a kiss.

  Instead, the minister fell silent, his gaze fixed on something beyond the wedding couple.

  They both turned.

  Summer gasped.

  Five teens stood at the back edge of the clearing. Miss Angie stroked her harp, and the young dancers began to make their way around the wedding glade. In graceful moves they’d learned from Summer, and a few surprisingly effective ones of their o
wn creation, they bowed and turned. They leapt for joy and lifted their hands in sincere worship, while strains of some nameless, glorious melody filled the woods.

  The audience watched, spellbound, until the music faded to silence. The teens then walked in a slow, orderly line to the front of the glade where the girls curtsied and the boys bowed to the bride. Reta stepped out of the row of teens and placed a single, white rose in Summer’s hand. The girl smiled through a flood of tears.

  Summer handed the flower to Deah and took the teen in her arms. She loved all of the Chrysalis kids, but this one had stolen a piece of her heart. She saw herself in the teen and longed to help her find the strength Summer knew she possessed.

  One of the other girls slipped an arm around Reta and the five dancers made their way to their seats. Blinking back happy tears, Summer watched them go.

  Logan gently turned her to face Brady again.

  “I believe the moment has arrived,” Brady said. “Logan, you may—”

  Behind the minister, Summer caught a subtle movement that elicited a sharp intake of breath—once again delaying the wedding kiss. She was only dimly aware that Brady broke off and turned to see what had stolen her attention.

  A young fawn stepped out of the shadows between the two trees on the other side of the arch. His mother was visible, although she seemed less willing to completely reveal herself to the small group of humans.

  “Freckle?” Logan whispered, and Summer nodded.

  The fawn took a hesitant step forward, and then another, and finally the doe followed, keeping a wary eye toward the chairs filled with wedding guests. Together, the deer eased through the grassy space until they both stood next to Summer. Behind her, a quiet, collective gasp fluttered over the guests, but no one made a sound or a movement that might have ruined the moment.

  Summer opened her hand, and Freckle placed his nose in it. Then he turned his head, extended a long tongue, and slurped her palm, just as he had on the day he came into her life.

  She bent to place a hand on each side of the little deer’s head. “Thank you for coming to my wedding, little one.” She raised her gaze to include the doe. “And you, Mommy Deer. I’m glad you’re here.”