Katie’s lips firmed. The call had taken her by surprise. Dinner was nearly on the table. “I’m sorry. We can wait dinner for an hour or so if that would help.”
“No, don’t do that. I don’t know when I’ll be through here. I’ll grab a sandwich or bowl of soup.”
Soup or sandwich? On Thanksgiving? The trade-off seemed sacrilegious, and this was the second time he’d stood her up. She could not find one reason to believe his story. She hung up the phone discouraged. People who made their living raising livestock weren’t always free to do as they pleased, but this smelled to high heaven.
Eyebrows raised, Tottie looked up as Katie entered the kitchen.
“That was Warren. He’s tied up with a sick cow. He won’t be able to come after all.”
“Surprise, surprise.” Tottie cut off a lump of butter and dropped it into the potatoes she was mashing.
Katie took plates from the cabinet and started setting the table.
Janet, Meg, and Ruth helped dish up the food, and the women gathered around the table. Without prompting they reached out to hold hands while Tottie said the blessing. Katie listened as she asked God to be with each of the women, praying for them by name. A lump rose in her throat as she thanked God for allowing her one more Thanksgiving at the shelter. The women would soon move on. Ruth was going to her sister’s, where she would hire a lawyer to regain custody of her daughter. Janet was looking for work. Eventually she would find a job and embark on a new life.
Meg was a different story. Perhaps she could find employment in or near Little Bush after the baby was born. She could stay at Candlelight until she could afford an apartment and earn enough to pay for childcare. The women who came were welcome to stay until they could get their lives back on track; that was a silent promise.
Twenty-Seven
The long holiday afternoon dragged on. The women slumped on the couch and in chairs, drowsy from the feast.
“That was one fabulous meal, Tottie,” Ruth said. “I ate so much I’m miserable.”
Tottie sighed and shifted her position. “I need a nap.”
Janet opened her eyes. “Do you realize it will soon be Christmas?”
Ruth blinked back sudden tears. “The first Christmas I’ve been away from my daughter.”
Janet shot her a sympathetic glance. “We need to start working on the live drama we talked about earlier. Christmas will be here before we know it.”
Meg yawned. “Let’s hope the baby comes on time — and not a moment sooner.”
Katie grinned. “The baby will be our live Baby Jesus.”
Awake now, the women’s enthusiasm for the pageant gained momentum.
Tottie squinted, half asleep. “What do you have in mind?”
Janet slid forward in her chair. “Let’s reenact the night Christ was born. It’ll be fun, and the practices will give us something to do on our long winter evenings.”
Meg frowned. “What if I haven’t had the baby by Christmas Eve?”
“Oh you will! It’s due what, the eighteenth?” Ruth grinned. “You’ll be home and ready for a little fun by then.”
“Not a bad idea.” Tottie’s eyes drifted shut. “Get some paper and a pen. We’ll write the script.”
Katie left the women chattering about the drama. She felt a squiggle of anticipation thinking about a new baby being around for the holiday. The first baby born at Candlelight and born at this special time — it was exciting.
Around four, Katie filled a couple of plates of leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and stuffing, and wrapped them tightly in foil. If Warren couldn’t come to Thanksgiving, she’d take Thanksgiving to him. If she found him anywhere but in the barn with a sick cow, the relationship — such as it was — was over. She interrupted the planning session long enough to tell Tottie where she was going and drove to Warren’s farm.
The barn was dark. Anger building, Katie pecked on the side door, and Warren told her to come in. She did, juggling the foil-covered plates. Her eyes locked on his form sprawled in his recliner, watching football.
He grinned when he saw the plates. “What’s all that?”
“Since you missed dinner, I brought it to you.” Her eyes scanned the empty room. No vet.
“That’s great.” He lifted the foil and sniffed. “I hadn’t got around to fixing anything yet.”
“How’s the cow?”
“She died. Passed on about half hour ago. Vet can’t get here until morning, so I left the carcass in the barn and came into the house and cleaned up. Take off your coat and stay awhile.”
Katie took in the warm, inviting room. A fire glowed brightly in the fireplace. Dead. She supposed she’d be totally out of line asking to see the deceased animal, but she didn’t intend to stay. The shine had been taken off the holiday. “I’d better get back. Enjoy your food.”
“No? Well, another time?”
“Right.”
She flinched at the thread of indifference in his voice. Dreams die hard.
“Sorry about missing dinner.” He smiled. “Though I guess it’s no secret that being in a room full of women makes me nervous.”
No, no secret.
“Maybe we can try supper again one night this week?”
“Sure.”
She left, closing the door behind her.
God, why do things have to be so hard? Why aren’t choicesmore clear-cut? Had Warren lied to her a second time? She made a mental note to ask the vet. Sneaky, perhaps, but Warren’s excuses were getting thin.
On the drive home, Katie’s decision seemed pretty obvious. Unpleasant, but obvious.
Slipping out of her coat at the back door, she drew Tottie to the table. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve reached a decision. When Janet, Ruth, and Meg leave, we’re closing the shelter.”
Instead of vehement protest, Tottie nodded, thoughtful. “And then what?”
“I’ll take on more typing and open the ranch up for additional riding lessons. With more lessons and extra typing, we can live just fine.”
Tottie, still openly undisturbed by the announcement, asked, “Did Warren have anything to do with your decision?”
“No. He’s been encouraging me to close; that isn’t a secret. I’ve decided that he’s right. I can’t afford to keep the shelter open, and it’s not fair to you or your money. Besides, I’m tired of living in fear.” I’m sick of it all. Sick of fighting Warren. Sickof defending my choices to Ben. Tired of being broke. Life held so little reward lately.
“I can’t believe that you believe what you’re saying,” Tottie said, shaking her head. “You love Candlelight. You’ve poured your life into this ministry, but the decision to close or remain open is yours and yours alone. I only have one suggestion. Keep your decision quiet until after Christmas.”
Katie nodded, drained. “I don’t want to disrupt the women’s celebration, but closing won’t affect them for awhile. They can stay here until the courts find good relocation shelters or they move on.”
“You pray about your decision, Katie.”
“You know I will and I do, but I’m confident that this is the right decision. It’s the only answer.” She couldn’t keep putting them through the angst of never knowing where the next dollar would come from, though God had never failed them. Yet he expected his children to show wisdom and not be complete airheads, expecting the world to meet their needs. Still, if he wanted Candlelight to remain open, there would be no power on earth strong enough to close it.
Katie bypassed the front room where the women were still discussing the pageant and ducked into the small office to call Warren. His voice brightened when he recognized the caller. “Just finished eating. The food was great.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ve made a decision, Warren. I won’t announce it publicly until after the holidays, but I’ve decided to close the shelter.”
She supposed the ensuing silence meant that he was digesting the news. After a moment, he said quietly, “Finally you’re getting
some financial savvy. I’m proud of you, Katie. The decision to close took guts, but I knew you would make a wise choice.”
She shrugged, defeated. “You’re right. I can’t afford to keep it.”
“You won’t regret it, I promise you. Maybe now we can move ahead.”
His words hit home at the crux of her heart. Maybe they could move ahead. Wasn’t that what she had wanted all along, his undivided attention? “That’s my hope too. I wouldn’t have had the courage to reach this decision without your help.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it today. How about the two of us going out to dinner, and maybe a movie, tomorrow night?”
Katie shook her head. Mr. Right had galloped up on a white steed, and all it had taken to get him was her giving up. Maybe this was what he wanted all along and why he hesitated to deepen the relationship. Maybe her pride and her wishes had stood in the way of God’s plan for her life. “I’d love that, Warren. What time?”
“Will five-thirty work for you?”
“It works fine.”
“And Katie?” His tone lowered to one she had waited to hear. Caring. Not soft, but not hard.
“Yes?”
“You’ve made the right decision. I know I’ve been a little hard-nosed on the subject, but in the long run, it’s best for you, and that’s all I care about — what’s best for you.”
Twenty-Eight
Janet tapped her pencil on the legal pad, eyeing Ruth. “No, your line is, ‘Quick, let’s follow the star.’ ”
“Quick! Let’s follow the star!”
“A little less emphasis on the ‘star.’ ‘Quick. Let’s follow the star.’ ”
Katie smiled and closed the double parlor doors. The Christmas drama was foremost in the women’s minds these days. They spent hours practicing for an audience of two — three if Warren decided to come. Yet their fervor and dedication to reenact the nativity would have been no less for one than for a hundred. Only one problem remained. Meg had yet to produce the male lead. Her due date had come and gone, and still they waited, listening and watching for any indication that the child was about to enter the world.
Katie found the mother to be sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor painting the wooden cradle the women had built from lumber given to them by Warren. The cradle would belong to the new infant after the pageant.
“Looking good,” Katie praised as she opened the refrigerator door and took out a bottle of juice.
“Thanks.” Meg shifted, her hand absently going to support her back. “It’s shaping up nicely.”
“Seen Tottie?”
“She’s in the barn feeding the cats, or that’s what she said. I think she wants to spend as much time with the horses before they leave as possible.”
“Which won’t be much longer. The vet thought they would leave weeks ago. If the one stallion hadn’t developed that nasty infection, they would be in California now.”
“I’m going to miss them,” Meg said wistfully. “One or two have become close friends, and I don’t have many friends.”
“You have us.”
The tough Meg surfaced. “I don’t need anyone, honest.” Then her tone softened. “But I have come to love everyone here.” She lifted red eyes. “If it hadn’t been for Candlelight, I don’t know where I and baby boo would be right now.”
Pain twisted Katie’s heart. She couldn’t break now. She had to remain strong for the women. They couldn’t learn of her plans to close the shelter yet. She shut the refrigerator door with her hip. “I’m going into Cope for a few hours.”
Meg nodded. “Santa shopping?”
Katie grinned. “You got it.” Now that she knew she would close the shelter, money didn’t have to be so tight. She could afford to buy Tottie and the women small Christmas gifts. Dewberry’s was having a big sale, and she wanted to take advantage of it. Once the shelter closed, she’d arrange for a bank loan and make payments on a new roof. Meanwhile, she planned to celebrate the Savior’s birth if not in a grand way at least in a caring way.
These days the relief that filled her made any trip more palatable. There hadn’t been one single unnerving accident since before election day.
Ben had backed off to the point that he barely acknowledged her when they passed on the road. She knew the rumor had spread about her and Warren’s blooming relationship, yet she missed the friendly banter with the sheriff. Even the silly signs, which she still carried in the jeep. Maybe she’d been too hard on him.
Too hard on Ben? Come on, Katie girl! You got what youwanted. He leaves you alone.
Katie frowned. Totally alone. Starting the jeep, she backed out of the farm lot.
Driving through Little Bush, she spotted the sheriff filling his gasoline tank at the local service station. On a whim, she waved.
She supposed his barely perceptible nod was an acceptable if not warm greeting. His fleeting glance was as warm as one he might give to a suspected sniper.
Well, you’ve earned his ire. And if it hadn’t been for him,you’ d have fought some pretty tough battles alone, like gettingMeg to the clinic during false labor and covering the gaping holein the roof, which he did without being asked.
National news came on the radio, and Katie leaned to adjust the volume. She caught the last piece. “Today Senator Clara Townsend announced that one of her first pieces of legislation during her second term will be the American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act.”
Stunned, Katie stared at the dashboard. Clara? Fighting to reinstate the Horse Slaughter Prevention Act? A grin touched the corners of her mouth. Why, Clara Townsend, you faker.You aren’t as cold as you wanted us to believe.
Thank you, God, for sending help by a most unlikely angel.
Katie sobered. God bless you, Clara.
Katie leisurely shopped Dewberry’s most of the afternoon and bought a fleece robe for Tottie, a new top for Meg, and bath products for Janet and Ruth. She also bought a soft black and white stuffed bear for the baby.
The pregnancy had changed Meg. She was quieter, more serious. On occasion the street-smart girl slipped back into her former behavior, but she appeared to be trying to do what was best for her baby. Motherhood was a big responsibility, and Meg was living up to it.
Katie grinned. With the baby’s mother and four other women hovering over him, he would be one spoiled kid. Ruth and Janet had dug into their meager funds to buy diapers and gowns. Ruth had embroidered bibs, and Janet had wrapped them in Christmas paper. Tottie was crocheting a baby afghan of soft yellow and white. A baby was a promise of new life, a beginning. Special.
Winter shadows layered the parking garage when Katie emerged from the mall. Store traffic had been reasonably tolerable today, one week before Christmas. An air of expectation, a barely controlled excitement conquered people who were taking advantage of last-minute gift buying. The mall was ablaze in the glow of Christmas. Decorations filled store windows and hung from the streetlights.
Katie hauled packages to the jeep and stored them, climbed into the cab, and then climbed out again. She rummaged through sacks for the chocolate Godiva bar she’d purchased, then returned to the driver’s seat and noted the time. Nearly five o’clock.
On the drive home, a muffled pop grabbed her attention. The jeep veered, and she gripped the wheel and pulled the vehicle back onto the road. Now what? She braked, coming to a halt, and slowly lowered the window on the driver’s side, listening. Nothing. Her eyes searched the darkness.
Katie sat frozen in place, staring through the fogged window on the passenger side. The jeep sagged on the left side rear tire. A flat?
A quick check of the spare tire showed that it was flat too. When had she looked at it last? Great. She slumped against the rear fender well and let the tears come. God, are you madat me? Can’t something work out right for me just once in awhile? Don’t you care that my life is falling apart?
Katie fumbled in her coat pocket for a tissue. Of course he cared. She was the carele
ss one. She’d just spent money on Christmas presents when she knew the jeep was running on bald tires. Now she had to buy tires. Instead of standing herefeeling sorry for yourself, why not use the wits the good Lord gaveyou and do something? She wiped her eyes and dialed Warren.
“You’re where?” he asked.
“On the stretch of road between Little Bush and the shelter. I’ve had a blowout, and the spare is flat.”
He sighed.
She waited.
“Okay, I’ll be there. Sit tight.”
She clicked off, and then called Tottie to let her know what happened. Warren arrived within minutes. When he stepped out of his pickup and advanced in the glare of headlights, Katie rushed into his arms, and to her chagrin, immediately burst into tears. He held her close, soothing her like he would a child until she calmed down.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” He turned her in the direction of the pickup, and she stopped. “Wait. My packages.”
He waited while she retrieved her purchases, and then helped her carry them to the pickup. “Been shopping?”
“Christmas. I bought a few things for the women at the shelter.”
“You have money to spend on things like that?”
“They didn’t cost much, and it is Christmas.” She heard the defensive note creep into her voice, and she waited for him to reprimand her. But he didn’t. Gifts. She hadn’t bought anything for him. Would he expect something? Did he have a present for her? She’d find something for him in Little Bush. Something small but significant.
Warren slid behind the wheel and turned the truck around. “I left a roast cooking in the oven. When you called, I dropped everything and came. I’ll fix the flat and the spare tomorrow. Have you had dinner?”
“No.” She huddled close to the rush of warm air coming from the heater. “Well,” she amended, “I had a Godiva bar.”
By now they’d reached Warren’s house, and she followed him inside. Warmth washed over her as she entered the home. Katie moved to the fireplace, letting the heat eat away the chill that had crept into her bones. Rusty, Warren’s Australian shepherd, lay a short distance from the hearth, sleeping. He cracked one eye open when Katie joined him, and then closed it.
Now and Always Page 18
