by Carol Ross
Shay had found herself agreeing, and although she couldn’t remember previously making plans to attend with Caleb, it wouldn’t be an odd thing for her to do under normal circumstances. Clearly the stress was getting to her, and the circumstances didn’t matter because here she was, walking into the Rankins First Baptist Church with Caleb and Jonah.
Light filtered through the stained-glass windows set into the church’s thick walls, turning the sanctuary into a kaleidoscope of color. They walked down the wide center aisle, a row of hand-crafted wooden pews on either side of them.
Some of Shay’s family had already arrived; Tag and Hannah were seated next to their parents, Ben and Margaret, along with Bering and Janie’s mom, Claire. Janie and the boys were getting settled in the pew behind them, so Shay, Jonah, and Caleb filed in next to her.
As Caleb predicted, by the time the hour rolled around for the service to start the church was overflowing. Shay braced herself as Pastor Brock began to speak. He was always eloquent, and because he’d known Agnes well, she knew the tribute would be especially heart-wrenching. He described Agnes’s generous nature and seemingly endless contributions to the community and Shay could hear the sniffles and sobs from the crowd around her.
There was a moment of lightness when Pastor Brock told the story of how Agnes had single-handedly—well, at first it had been single-handed, but then she’d inspired nearly the entire community to get behind the attempt to capture and spay the feral cat population. The vet, Ned Dobbins, had ended up with cat scratch fever and police chief, Ricky Grade, had reeked of mink stench for days after he’d crawled under the roots of a large tree along the river’s edge at Agnes’s urging in search of a family of tiny brown kittens.
But even this story filled Shay with nearly unbearable sadness. She knew she had a problem. She knew her fear of death was irrational—like her fear of fire. She wished she could get a better grip on death—more acceptance of loss. Loss was inevitable, something she couldn’t control, and she knew what Caleb had said the other day was true—they all had to go some time. But she didn’t fear her own death—it was losing her loved ones that filled her with icy cold terror. Shay wasn’t sure which was worse—the drawn out passing of a loved one or the sudden, tragic loss. Agnes had been ill for months so when she’d finally passed away it had generally been considered a blessing. Grandpa Gus had suffered a brain aneurysm and died almost instantly. The shock of his sudden death combined with the loss had been overwhelming.
There were so many things she’d wished she could have said to him, time that she had planned to spend. Shay had been able to say goodbye to Agnes, and Agnes had had some time to cherish those last days before she became too ill and slipped into a coma. But sometimes people didn’t have enough time to prepare—like her grandpa, Jonah’s parents, Janie’s husband, Cal, who’d been killed in a logging accident while she was pregnant with the twins.
She inhaled deeply and studied the lovely program she’d been gripping tightly in her lap. The thick paper was colored in light shades of blue and mint green. She traced the photo of Agnes on the inside with her fingertip but couldn’t bring herself to read the poem that Agnes’s niece Chloe had written in her honor. Agnes hadn’t been blessed with any children of her own, but had been close with her family. Like Shay.
Shay could only hope that when she died she had friends and family who loved her enough to miss her like this, too.
Her thoughts turned toward Caleb. The idea of losing him was agonizing. And Jonah... She couldn’t help it—she wondered what he would do. She knew in her heart that he would have regrets about the time he hadn’t spent with his grandfather. He’d lost his parents so tragically and at such a young age. Caleb was all he had left—and her of course.
Jonah would always have her; she realized that now as she sat in the church and mourned for Agnes and for all the cherished lives that had gone before her. She thought of their baby and knew this connection they shared could never be severed...
She couldn’t stop herself from speculating about the tiny baby that she and Jonah might have had. Would their child have been a boy with his wavy black hair and mischievous smile or a girl with his striking blue eyes? Would it have had Jonah’s intelligence and self-confidence or her compassion and quick temper?
She pressed her knuckles tightly against her mouth and stifled a sob. Why was she doing this to herself? She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about what might have been. Was Jonah right that they needed to “talk” and tackle some of the issues between them? She pressed her feet to the floor, trying to dispel the urge she had to get up and bolt from the church. She needed to think about that...
She glanced up at Jonah and was shocked to see tears shimmering in his thick black lashes. His long fingers were spread out, lightly gripping the tops of his knees. She reached over and placed a hand over his, sensing that his thoughts had turned along the same line as hers. He threaded his fingers through hers and held on tight; Shay didn’t even think of letting go.
And while her heart ached at this blatant display of Old Jonah, she was relieved, too. It was a side she was afraid he’d buried forever somewhere in that tall cold skyscraper in the city where he spent his life using the law to make money.
That was something she would never understand; how his career, his seemingly endless quest for wealth, could replace the basic human need for love, for family, and yes—for her.
After the service ended, they stood and Shay released his hand. She turned to exit the pew. Jonah stood close behind her and when his hand ran up her arm to the top of her shoulder a tremor sped through her. She turned to face him and he whispered her name and that’s when she felt it...a familiar tingle in her chest—near her heart, reminding her once again of everything she had so loved about him.
Then the heat of his voice took over as he bent his head next to her ear and said softly, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She thought her heart might shatter from the sweet and painful ache his embrace evoked. More sweet than painful, obviously, because she didn’t make any move to let go. She just let him hold her while she cried into his chest, all over his expensive shirt and his lovely gray-and-purple tie.
After a while—probably too long—she snuffled out one last sob.
He gripped her shoulders and pulled away slightly so she could see his gorgeous blue eyes so filled with compassion and sorrow and...? She let the sight of him, the feel of his hand caressing her back comfort her—she let him comfort her—the way he used to do. He’d always been so good at that—making her believe that everything would be okay.
Finally, at the edge of her vision she saw people shuffling out of the church in that slow, heavy-footed way that they seemed only to do when leaving a church. But she wanted to stay in his arms forever...
Until he ruined it.
“Shay, we should talk about it.”
She took a small step back, reeling from her emotions. “You might be right, Jonah, but I don’t know if I want to...”
He looked encouraged by her semi-agreement and continued gently, “There are some things I’d like to say and I—”
Shay backed away and gestured around at the church and the remaining people. “Okay, but maybe not a good time right now, Jonah,”
He followed her gaze and seemed to realize where they were. “You’re right, not now. Ugh, I really need to work on that timing thing, huh?”
Shay blew out a breath of relief and forced a smile.
“We are going to talk though,” he said. The tone of his voice told her that to argue would be pointless; arguing was what he did for a living. “You know what I think?”
“What?” he returned hesitantly.
“I think we do need to go fishing.”
He studied her face for a few seconds. His eyes remained tense and unwavering, but he went with the new topic.
“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve actually been thinking that, too.”
* * *
SHAY DESCENDED THE STAIRS two at a time down into the church basement toward the reception. She made a beeline through the crowd and relief flooded her at the sight of Janie, Emily and Laurel already seated at a round table in the corner. Was she fleeing from Jonah like a coward and seeking solace in the company of her friends? Yes, she was. And she was okay with that. She’d agreed to an eventual discussion at some later, unspecified time. That was the best she could do today.
Laurel stood as she approached and wrapped her arms around Shay for a long moment. She released her and said, “Shay, sweetie, we all know how much Agnes meant to you. Are you okay?”
Shay nodded. “Yep. Okay.” Emily hugged her, too, then she sank down onto a chair and let out a sigh.
Emily reached over and squeezed her hand.
Laurel handed her a tissue.
Shay exchanged a look with Janie, who was studying her with those intense, vigilant, best-friend-cousin eyes. Janie—the person who knew her better than anyone else in the world, except maybe for Tag, but Janie knew her differently. And maybe because she was a woman, and because she knew everything, and because she had suffered so much loss herself, Shay knew that Janie understood how painful this day was for her. And Shay knew that it was painful for her, too. She was thankful that she had these people—these incredible friends and family—in her life.
“Janie?”
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“Can I hold Finn?”
“Of course.” Janie scooted forward and handed her the sleeping baby. Shay cuddled him close, inhaled his sweet baby scent and once again mourned her broken circle of life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHAY SPENT THE remaining days leading up to the fishing trip telling herself she wasn’t avoiding Jonah. She had a lot to prepare to be away from the inn for three days—and with him for that same amount of time. Thankfully, Hannah was on her best behavior and seemed to be absorbing all of her instructions.
“Okay, got it.” Hannah tapped a finger on the list that Shay had printed out. She scribbled a note in the margin.
“Now, my turn—do you know when Mr. Konrad is checking out? He is such a pain in the...” She paused, clearly searching for an appropriate word. “Butt,” she finally said. “Yesterday he told Penny that she was stupid because he asked where he could find some extra-large binder clips in town and she said she wasn’t sure. She offered to call around for him, but he declined. He’s such a jerk.”
“He called her stupid?”
“I believe the words he used were ‘I should have known better than to ask advice from a simple hotel worker.’”
Shay shook her head in disgust. “I’ll talk to Penny. I’m glad you brought him up though. Unfortunately, he’s extended his stay through the week, so make sure every day that his special sheets are ready. And remind the maids that he doesn’t like his room to be cleaned before ten and no later than noon.”
Hannah made a face as she picked up a paper clip and twirled it in her fingers. “Why is he staying? The rest of the attorneys left ages ago. He doesn’t even act like he enjoys it here—he complains about everything.”
Shay reached over and patted Hannah’s hand. “I’ve reached the conclusion over the years that some people just like to complain. But I believe he’s staying because he fancies himself something of an amateur photographer. He wants to photograph some wildlife.”
“What kind of wildlife photographer doesn’t get out of bed before ten?”
Shay chuckled. “I know, and he keeps complaining that he hasn’t seen anything. I gently suggested that he might want to get an earlier start, but he shooed me away. What else can I do?”
“Well, he’d better not cross me Shay, because I will take that camera of his and I will—”
“Ask him if there’s anything you can do to make his stay more comfortable?” Shay smoothly finished her statement.
Hannah hesitated before they both let out a burst of laughter.
Then Hannah muttered, “What I have in mind would be anything but comfortable.”
* * *
JONAH HAD MET with Gary and Ingrid three more times to discuss their “divorce,” which had somehow turned into a series of amateur counseling sessions. He’d also joined the couple at their home for dinner on two additional occasions, where he’d fallen even deeper in love with their three kids.
That taste of their family dynamic had only fueled his belief that the couple belonged together.
“So,” Gary said with Ingrid standing beside him, “we just stopped by to let you know we’ve made a decision.”
Jonah found himself holding his breath. He’d done everything in his power to help the couple get over the “four-wheeler incident” as he’d taken to calling the unfortunate episode in his mind.
The event had happened pretty much as Shay had heard. Gary and a group of friends had gone out riding four-wheelers. They’d come across Lucille and her friend who were also out for a ride. Lucille’s four-wheeler had become stuck in the mud on the far side of a fast-running creek. Her friend was afraid she would also get stuck if she tried to retrieve Lucille. So Gary had given Lucille a ride across the creek on his new bulletproof-airless-tired wonder of an ATV.
No one seemed to know why Lucille had been wearing a dress.
“We’re going to renew our wedding vows.”
“Congratulations! You guys, this is so great.” Jonah knew the smile on his face had to reflect both his happiness and his sincerity. He couldn’t wait to see Shay’s face when he relayed the news.
She’d been purposely staying out of his way and he’d been looking for an excuse to see her. The way she’d felt in his arms at the funeral, the sorrow he’d heard in her voice, had him believing that she needed someone. Not that he could ever be that someone but, maybe he could be that someone for a little while? At the very least, he could solve this matter with Adele Mason—that he could definitely do for her. He wanted to do that for her.
Plus, she’d agreed that they needed to talk...
“Jonah, thank you so much for everything. You know—if this law thing doesn’t work out for you—you should consider marriage counseling.”
He grinned. “Thank you, Ingrid. I’ll keep that in mind. And remember—most of the time us guys really are just as dense as we seem.”
Ingrid laughed as Gary pulled out his checkbook.
“Amen, to that. What do we owe you, Jonah?”
Jonah waved away the offer. “No way, Gary. Nothing. I won’t take a dime even if you throw it at me. I billed you guys on Gramps’s behalf for that initial consultation. The rest of this,” he said, gesturing between them, “this is just...good stuff.”
Gary started to argue. “Jonah, we can’t possibly—”
“Please, seeing you guys back together is all the payment I need. And spending time with you two and your kids, I should be paying you.”
Ingrid blushed.
Gary’s chest puffed up like a male ptarmigan in the springtime. “You’re good people, Jonah.”
“Thanks, Gary. That means a lot. So are you both.”
Jonah was overwhelmed with a kind of satisfaction he wasn’t all that familiar with. He wasn’t often called “good people” back in Chicago, in fact, never. And even though this wasn’t exactly the kind of deed he had the opportunity to do in Chicago—this was definitely the kind that had him feeling like maybe he was more than an attorney.
The swoony-eyed couple shared a grin and some kind of nonverbal communication passed between them. They reached out and linked hands.
Ingrid spoke, “We, um, actually wanted to ask you something else, Jonah.”
“Sure.”
“Gary and I both think you’re very articulate and so knowledgeable about life and relationships and—”
Jonah kept a straight face, but barely.
“—we’d love it if you would say a few words at the party. It’s really going to be more of an anniversary celebration, no ceremony
or anything, so maybe a short speech about love or something? We’re going to do it at the end of summer on our anniversary.”
Jonah was touched. “Absolutely. I’d be honored.”
Hands were shaken and hugs were shared and a promise made to attend another barbecue the following week. After Gary and Ingrid left, Jonah sat grinning stupidly at Gramps’s desk and tried to remember the last time he’d felt this good about his work. He was pretty sure the answer was never.
He watched out the window as the couple climbed into Gary’s pickup and pulled away. There was almost nothing worse than knowing two people belonged together, but couldn’t make a relationship work. He understood that better than anyone. Jonah suspected Gary and Ingrid would have found their way back eventually, but it felt good to think that he’d had even a small hand in their reconciliation.
Now all he could think about was telling Shay. He bolted up and jogged into the kitchen where Gramps was busy baking a batch of his oatmeal cookies. The smell of cinnamon stopped him in his tracks. He grabbed a cookie and ate it in two bites.
“These are excellent, Gramps. I’ll be back in a little while, okay? I need to run an errand.”
“Sure thing. Hey, can you stop at the store on your way home from the inn and pick up some milk?”
“Why would you...? Never mind. Yes, I’ll get milk.”
Jonah heard Gramps’s chuckle as he grabbed three more cookies and hurried out the door.
* * *
JONAH PULLED OPEN the thick wooden door that led into the inn and looked around. The place was oddly quiet. There was no one at the front desk and he really didn’t want to ring that crazy-loud bell and alert everyone that he was here.
Shay loved that bell. Her grandfather Gus had salvaged it after the fire had destroyed the original inn, taken the lives of his parents, and nearly killed him. The bell was one of a handful of objects recovered from the rubble.
A bout of nerves reminiscent of their college days surged within him as he walked toward Shay’s office. Occasionally their busy schedules had kept them from seeing each other for a day or two and it had felt like torture to be away from her. But then finally, the time would come and he’d stop and buy her a flower or a package of licorice and show up at her apartment. That feeling of anticipation when he’d raise his hand to knock and know that in a matter of seconds her dimpled smile and sweet voice would be greeting him, telling him how much she’d missed him... Then she’d throw her arms around his neck and he’d kiss her senseless. The door was open, but Hannah was seated behind the desk.
