The Forgiving Hour

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  Sara glanced toward her and smiled. “Yes. And I feel the same.”

  “Next time, don’t wait so long between visits.” The woman patted the back of Sara’s hand with her fingertips. “Time rushes away from us before we know it.”

  She nodded, then turned her gaze out the window again.

  The elderly woman was wrong about time passing quickly. At least, it sure seemed to crawl in Denver, Colorado. Sara wondered if it would have been different if she’d had the courage to stay in Boise. Probably not.

  She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. If she’d stayed, would she have seen Dave again? Had he left his wife and son, she wondered, or had he and Claire Porter put their marriage back together? If Sara hadn’t sent him away that day, would there have been a chance the two of them could have …

  She closed her eyes, at the same time mentally closing off the direction of her thoughts. Three-and-a-half years should have been long enough to rid her of the memories. They’d had an affair. Nothing more. She’d thought she was in love with him. She’d been wrong. Why did it still haunt her?

  “You all right, dear?”

  Sara looked at her seatmate. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just remembering the last time I was home.”

  “Well, I hope you have a lovely Christmas with your parents and brothers.”

  The plane touched down. Tires screeched. Jet engines roared.

  The elderly woman’s eyes rounded as she gripped the armrests. “Oh my,” she said breathlessly. “I do hate this part.”

  To distract her, Sara asked, “Did you say your son would be here to meet you?” She already knew the answer. It was one of the many things the two of them had talked about during the two-hour flight.

  “Yes, he’ll be here.”

  By this time, the plane was taxiing toward the terminal, and Sara looked out the window again. Anticipation quickened her pulse.

  Despite the bad memories, it was good to be home.

  The mall was packed with shoppers on this Friday evening, three days before Christmas. Dakota’s friends were all headed to the music store, but Dakota had something else in mind.

  “Listen,” he told them, “I’ll meet you guys up in the food court in an hour.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Rick Smith agreed.

  “Want me to come with you?” John Kreizenbeck asked.

  “Nah.” He waved, then allowed himself to be swept along by the crowd.

  A short while later, he stood in front of the jewelry counter in the Bon Marché, staring at the bracelet. He’d seen his mom admiring it a couple of months ago, but there was no way she could spare the money to buy something so frivolous for herself. He could almost hear her saying those exact words.

  “May I help you?”

  Dakota glanced up at the salesclerk and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to buy that bracelet.” He pointed. “That one there. The Black Hills gold one.”

  The clerk raised an eyebrow as he looked at the worn condition of Dakota’s coat. His gaze seemed to say, You can’t afford that. Go away and don’t waste my time.

  “I’m buying it for my mother for Christmas.” Jerk. “Could you get it out so I can see it close up?”

  With obvious reluctance, the clerk unlocked the showcase and withdrew the bracelet, placing it on the glass counter between them. “The price is one hundred and fifty dollars.” His tone could only be described as condescending. He was obviously waiting for Dakota to admit he didn’t have enough money and leave.

  “I know.” Major jerk. “I’ve looked at it before.”

  “Would you care to see something else? Something … more affordable?”

  “No.” He felt his temper rising.

  Be angry, and yet do not sin.

  Okay, Lord, but this guy is asking for it. He needs somebody to tell him —

  Dakota could almost see God shaking His head.

  Okay. Okay already.

  Pressing his lips together, Dakota withdrew his wallet from his pocket and started counting out the cash. “How much with sales tax?”

  Clearly surprised, the salesman answered, “A hundred and fifty-seven dollars and fifty cents. One moment, and I’ll ring it up.”

  “I’m gonna want it gift-wrapped.” He paused, then added, “Please.”

  While the clerk hurried to complete the sale, Dakota thought about how surprised his mom would be when she opened her present on Christmas morning. Dakota had mowed a lot of lawns the last two summers. He had been saving up for a radical new CD player and speakers. But this morning, he’d realized that buying a gift for himself wasn’t nearly as important as doing something special for his mother. She deserved it.

  The past couple of weeks hadn’t exactly been easy for her. She was having a hard time with his decision to forgive his father. He understood why. He’d been there. He knew all about hanging on to bitterness. He also knew how much better it was to let it go. But how did he show her? She wasn’t about to let her fifteen-year-old son tell her what to feel or do.

  And she’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about his conversion any more than she wanted to talk about his dad.

  He sighed, shaking his head slowly. How come she can’t see the truth?

  Pastor Henry said Dakota’s job was to be obedient and to leave the rest up to God. That wasn’t as easy as he made it sound.

  Sara’s eyes brimmed with tears as she looked around the dining room table. “It’s so good to be home,” she said for what must have been the twentieth time since emerging from the Jetway and into her mom’s outstretched arms.

  Eli punched her shoulder in a playful manner. “Hate to admit it, Sis, but we’ve missed you too.”

  Tim echoed the sentiment.

  Headlights flashed against the dining room window.

  “There’s Josh.” Kristina rose from the table and hurried into the kitchen.

  Sara was aware of a heightened sense of anticipation among the others in the room. She saw the secretive look that passed between Eli and Tim. What was going on? Just what was Josh’s big surprise?

  She twisted in her chair and stared at the kitchen doorway, waiting for her mother and Josh. The back door opened, and Sara could hear a hushed exchange of voices.

  A few moments later, her middle brother appeared. And with him was a lovely young woman about Sara’s own age; she was smiling shyly as Josh drew her toward his sister.

  Sara knew now what was going on. She didn’t have to wait for introductions. Josh was in love, and she would bet a month’s salary a wedding was in the offing. Getting up, Sara embraced him, then turned toward the young woman whose arm was still around Josh’s waist.

  “Sara,” he said, his voice full of pride, “I’d like you to meet Fiona O’Hara, my fiancée.”

  “I knew it!” She grabbed a surprised Fiona and gave her a tight hug. “This is so wonderful. Another female in the family. Mom and I’ve needed that for a long time.” She hugged her brother a second time. “When? When are you getting married? I need to know so I can arrange time off to be here to see it.”

  “In the spring,” Josh answered. “March 31. And you’d better be here. We want you to be in the wedding party.”

  Sara glanced toward Fiona.

  The girl nodded, a smile in her ink-black eyes. “It would mean a lot to us if you’d be my bridesmaid.”

  “I’d love to.” She took hold of both of their hands. “Come over here. Sit down and tell me how you met. I want to know every detail.” She looked up at her brother. “And then I’m going to spill all the dirt about you, Bro, and you’d better hope she doesn’t come to her senses after I do.”

  What followed was one of the most enjoyable evenings Sara had partaken of in years. The house was warmed by the laughter of a family who not only loved one another but genuinely liked one another as well. Brothers and sister teased and taunted, poked and jabbed. Fiona, the soon-to-be newest member of the family, was regaled with stories of derring-do, some true and some pure fabrication.


  It was late by the time Josh left to take Fiona home. Not long afterward, Tim and Eli departed for the apartment they shared in Boise. The house seemed far too quiet with all of them gone.

  “Don’t worry, Sara,” her dad said. “They’ll be back tomorrow.”

  She put her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for bringing me home, Dad.” A lump formed in her throat, making it hard to say anything else.

  “If it was up to me, I’d have you back here for good. Your mom and I rattle around in this big old house by ourselves, now that all you kids have moved out.”

  “Maybe someday I’ll come back,” she whispered.

  “I don’t see what’s keeping you in Denver. You ought to be here with us. It’s not like you’ve got yourself some high-and-mighty career there.”

  “Leave her be, Jared.” Kristina gave him a pointed look. “Sara’s a grown woman. She wouldn’t live at home with her parents even if she did come back to Idaho.” She suppressed a yawn, then added, “It’s way past my bedtime. I’m going to turn in.” She went over to where Sara was standing with her dad and kissed her on the cheek. “We love you, honey. It’s sure good to have you home for Christmas.”

  “Thanks, Mom, I love both of you too.”

  “Guess I’ll join your mother.” Jared kissed his daughter’s other cheek. “Unless you want my company.”

  “No, it’s okay, Dad. I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day.”

  Half an hour later, her teeth brushed and her face washed, Sara crawled beneath the down comforter on her twin-size bed, her back propped against two plump pillows. Before turning out the light, she let her gaze roam over the room. It seemed both familiar and foreign at the same time.

  Her parents hadn’t changed anything since she’d moved out. Her favorite posters still hung on the walls. Her many horse trophies still cluttered the top of the ancient dresser, one of them covering the spot where she’d carved her initials when she was eight. Her collection of stuffed teddy bears filled the wooden rocking chair that had belonged to her grandmother and spilled onto the floor around it.

  It had been four and a half years since Sara had graduated from high school. The girl she’d once been seemed a stranger to her now. How simple she’d expected life to be. If only she’d known …

  With a sigh, she turned the switch on the bedside lamp and plunged the room into darkness. Then she snuggled under the warm comforter, tired and wanting to sleep. Unfortunately, her mind was too full.

  She thought of Josh, the first of the Jennings siblings to become engaged. More than once she’d heard her mother lament about not having grandchildren, wondering aloud when any of her children were going to get married and get on with the business of giving her some babies to spoil rotten. Apparently, Fiona and Josh hoped to oblige.

  Sara remembered the blush that had colored Fiona’s cheeks when Josh said, “Children are like arrows. A man is blessed whose quiver is full of them.” He’d kissed Fiona’s forehead. “We want a full quiver.”

  She’d been more than a little astonished to hear her brother quoting the Bible. Josh had always been the most reluctant to go to church when they were kids.

  “Josh met Fiona when he visited Sunrise Fellowship,” Kristina had explained. “Now we all go there.”

  That had surprised her too. Her parents had been lifelong members of the same large denominational church in Caldwell. Sara and her brothers had attended Sunday school, gone through confirmation classes, and sung in the choirs. What on earth had convinced her family to suddenly start going somewhere else? Was it just because of Fiona?

  Come to think of it, there’d been lots of talk all evening about the activities and people at their new church. Even from her brothers. Something was different, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. It was like … oh, she didn’t know. Like they were excited about going to church. All of them. But it wasn’t just that. It was much more than a new place to attend Sunday morning services. Their lives were full of new friends and new interests. Sara had found it disconcerting.

  She’d been left out, left behind. It took her a moment to pinpoint the exact nature of what she was feeling. She was jealous! Jealous that Josh was getting married. Jealous that Fiona was already looked upon as a member of the family. Jealous that her parents and brothers had moved forward with their lives while Sara was trapped in the past.

  I’m being ridiculous.

  She rolled to her left side and closed her eyes. She wasn’t jealous. She liked Fiona. She was glad for her brother. She’d had a wonderful time tonight, being home with everyone. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

  Unless there’d been someone here with me. Unless Dave …

  Dave. That’s what—or rather, who was bothering her. Dave. She hadn’t let go of him, of the memories, of her broken heart. Despite three years of trying, she’d still never let go.

  And now it was time.

  SEVENTEEN

  When Claire awakened on Sunday morning, she discovered that a thick blanket of snow had fallen during the night. Large, wet flakes continued to drift downward from a pewter sky. She longed to use the weather as an excuse to get out of her promise to Dakota.

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” he’d said last week. “Please come to church with me, just this once.”

  She didn’t know why she’d agreed to his request.

  No, that wasn’t true. She did know. It was out of guilt. Her reaction to Dakota’s decision to forgive his dad was not what it should have been, and she felt guilty about it even though she couldn’t change it. She shouldn’t have responded to him in anger. Nor should she have demanded he hold to his promise to never speak of Dave.

  Resentment flared. Even now, her ex-husband had a way of spoiling things. Silently, she cursed him as she headed toward the bathroom.

  A few minutes later, she stood beneath the hot spray of the shower, the water hiding her tears. She used to love Christmas. The shopping, the lights, the get-togethers with friends, the sledding parties, and snowball fights. She’d especially liked Christmas morning, watching Dakota open his gifts.

  But that was back in the days when she’d called her son Mike and there’d been money for presents. Lots of them, both toys and clothes. She didn’t want to think about the homemade shirt wrapped in tissue paper beneath the puny tree in the living room. The only package there.

  How could Dakota forgive his dad for doing this to them?

  She leaned her forehead against the shower wall. “I’ll hate you till the day I die, Dave. God or no God, I’ll hate you till the day I die.”

  Sara’s dad drove slowly along the interstate. Black ice was hidden beneath the snow, and they’d already passed three cars that had slid off the road.

  Sitting in the backseat of the automobile, Sara stared out the window at the passing countryside. Farmland was quickly disappearing, replaced by new subdivisions and shopping centers and storage units. So much change, everywhere she looked.

  But I’m the same. I’m still the same as I was in college. I shouldn’t be, but I am.

  The car fishtailed.

  “Jared!”

  “Be still, Kris, so I can concentrate.”

  Sara looked toward her parents in the seat in front of her. Remembering how often she’d heard similar exchanges, she couldn’t help smiling. According to Kristina, her husband drove too fast, followed too close, and ignored all the rules of defensive driving. According to Jared, his wife was an accomplished backseat driver.

  “Dear Jesus,” her mother said, “please get us there in one piece.”

  Over the past two days, Sara had heard several little prayers like this one. Actually, they were more snippets of conversation than what she’d always thought of as prayer. Kristina hadn’t used to talk to God aloud, but now it seemed to be a normal occurrence.

  Everybody’s changed except me.

  That thought replayed itself in her mind throughout the remainder of the drive to Boise. But
it wasn’t until her dad had parked the car in front of Sunrise Fellowship and they were all standing on the sidewalk beside it that Sara realized what she wanted to do. What she needed to do.

  “Mom. Dad. Can I borrow the car?”

  “Of course, dear,” Kristina answered.

  “I mean now.”

  Her mother looked at her. “But what about church? And the roads are so slick. You shouldn’t —”

  “It’s important, Mom.”

  Her dad took hold of her hand, turning it palm up. Then he placed the car keys in it and closed her fingers over them. “Drive careful. And don’t forget to pick us up at noon.”

  “Couldn’t this wait?” Kristina persisted. “Whatever this is.”

  “No.”

  Her mother shook her head, saying, “Your brothers will be disappointed.”

  “I’ll come visit your church another time. I promise. And we’re all going out to eat afterward. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So I’ll see them then.”

  “Sara, don’t you —”

  Jared laid a hand on his wife’s arm. “She said it was important. Let her go.”

  Thanks, Dad, she told him with her eyes.

  With a nod of understanding, he drew Kristina away. Sara watched until they disappeared inside before moving toward the driver’s-side door.

  Claire reacted as she always did when she saw a woman with short, dark-red hair. Her heart seemed to skip several beats, her stomach wrapped itself in knots, and a kind of fear coursed through her veins.

  As Dakota turned the car into the church parking lot, Claire craned her neck to get a better look at the woman, but it was already too late. She’d disappeared into her car.

  “See someone you know?” Dakota asked.

  She turned toward him. “No.”

  When would she get over feeling this way? For all she knew, that girl — Dave’s mistress — had changed her hair color, grown fat, whatever.

  Maybe she died. That would serve her right.

  “Is something bothering you, Mom?”

  “No.” At least, nothing out of the ordinary.