She nodded. Her graceful hands lifted the lid on the box and set it aside. With her chin still low, she glanced at him. “May I read what you wrote inside?”
She hadn’t done that yet? His neck and ears grew hot, but he nodded.
He sat in silence while she peeled back the cover of the white Bible and read it out loud. It only took a few seconds—he’d never been a man of many words. But he sensed by the way she traced her finger over the writing that she found pleasure in the brief message. She faced him again, and he swallowed.
“Henry, thank you for this Bible. That’s why I came here tonight—to say thank you.”
He nodded stupidly. Of course that’s why she’d come. What other reason would there be?
“But may I also tell you thank you for so many other things?”
“Like what?”
She tipped her head back a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, then met his gaze once more. Tenderness showed in her expression. He tightened the grip of his fingers, the tips biting into his own knuckles.
“Thank you for being such a wonderful friend to Aunt Lisbeth. She loved you like a son. You were very special to her.”
As she was to him. He nodded.
“Thank you for your prayers over the years. Most people would have given up, but you didn’t. And now I am reaping the benefit of your steadfast devotion.”
His second nod was jerky, his neck muscles so stiff he felt he had no control of them.
“And thank you for your efforts to reunite me with my family. They were successful. This was the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I’m a part of the family again, welcomed by every member.”
“Every member?” his voice croaked out hoarsely.
Her smile told him she understood the simple question. “Even Dad. We made our peace. It was precious.”
Henry blew out a breath of relief. “I’m so glad.”
“Me, too.”
They sat in an uncertain silence, with their gazes aimed at their own laps. Marie seemed to examine the Bible she continued to hold; Henry begrudged the grease he could never completely remove from beneath his fingernails.
After a long while, Marie set the Bible aside and looked at him again. “Henry, about last week. When you found me—”
He held up his hand, meeting her gaze squarely. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. It must. You haven’t spoken to me all week.”
Henry ducked his head. He hadn’t known what to say to her. If she were innocent, his accusations were inexcusable. If she were guilty, he couldn’t reconcile himself with it.
“I need to tell you the truth, and I hope you’ll forgive me for being less than honest with you when you found me.”
Raising his head, Henry said, “I’m listening.”
Briefly, Marie explained how she had come to be in the barn that morning and why she had kept the details to herself. Henry remembered his promise to keep silent in order to prevent any negative light being cast on Lisbeth. He realized, with a start, that Marie’s motivations for silence were no different than his had been.
She finished quietly. “So now that you know it was Mitch, charges could be filed by everyone who had items taken. I’ll understand if that’s what you choose to do. And I’ll accept my responsibility for letting him go. I won’t lie about it anymore.”
Henry thought carefully before speaking. “Thank you for telling me. I think, since everyone has back what was taken, they would be willing to let the matter lie. We could talk to the deacons if it would make you feel better.”
“What would make me feel better,” she said, her eyes flooding, “is if you would forgive me. I don’t want to leave again with regrets between us.” Touching the Bible with her fingertips, she licked her lips. “You meant to give this to me before I left. . .with Jep.” She looked at him, her expression uncertain. “I don’t want another message to go unstated.”
Henry drew in a ragged breath. “Marie, my biggest regret right now is having, for even a brief time, believed you capable of thievery. I should have known. Please, will you forgive me?”
Her eyes sparkled, her lips tipping into a smile. “Yes. And can you forgive me?”
“Yes.”
Her smile grew, and she released a light bubble of laughter. “Oh, that feels good.”
Henry smiled. Yes, it felt good to have past mistakes erased, to start with a clean slate. Another silence followed, but this one lacked the unease of the last. Instead, it was a time of settling, of finding a comfortable ground together. It made his heart feel light, and although he hated to interrupt it, he had a question he wanted to ask.
“Marie, do you think Beth would be willing to sell the café to Deborah and Troy?”
She tipped her head, her fine brows coming down for a moment. “Deborah is interested in running it?”
“Yes. She and Trina would keep it going. She’s come to enjoy being there.”
Another light laugh spilled out. “Well, this is a day for surprises. I’ll have Beth get in touch with Deborah. I’m sure they can work out the details with the Realtor.”
“Good.” He cleared his throat. “And when it sells. . .you’ll be leaving?”
For several seconds she seemed to hold her breath, looking at him, something in her expression making his heart increase its tempo. Then, in a hesitant voice, she said, “Do I have a reason to stay?”
Slipping to her side on the sofa, Henry took her hand. “I hope you do.” Reaching across her, he lifted the Bible from its box and put it on his knee. He opened the cover and read the words he had penned there the week before Jep Quinn arrived in town. “What God brings together, let no man put asunder.” Giving her hand a squeeze, he said softly, “Marie, can I hope that. . .perhaps. . . I might be a reason for you to stay?”
Tears blurred his vision as he admitted, “I’ve never stopped loving you. Lisbeth knew it. She hoped, like I did, that one day you would return. I know you loved Jep—I wouldn’t try to replace him in your heart or Beth’s. But if you gave me a chance—”
Marie touched her fingers to his lips. “Henry, I would never see you as a replacement for Jep.”
His chest constricted as he waited for her to continue.
“Jep was the love of my youth, and I don’t regret loving him. He once told me I helped bring him back in step with the Lord. He gave me Beth. I can’t imagine my life without her. Our relationship had a purpose.”
Her tender tone, her gentle expression—even though she spoke of another man—held Henry captive.
“But you’ve been faithful to me, expressing care for me, even when I didn’t return it. There is no substitute for that kind of dedication and love. Jep was the love of my youth. But you, Henry, are the love of my life.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, and finally formed words. “Do you mean. . .you love me, too?”
A tear burst from its perch on her thick lashes and spilled down her cheek with her nod.
He scooped her into his arms, pulling her against his shoulder. “What about Beth? Will she return to Cheyenne alone?”
She made no effort to extricate herself from his embrace. Her face against his neck, she murmured, “God has brought us back together. He’ll take care of Beth—I trust Him with her.”
He crushed her close, burying his face in the scent of her hair, before setting her aside. Tears trailed down her smiling face, and he brushed them away with his thumbs.
Her sweet lips curved into a smile that sent his heart racing. “Merry Christmas, Henry.”
For once, Henry’s clumsy tongue found the perfect words. “You are my God-bestowed gift. I love you, my Marie.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kim Vogel Sawyer is wife to Don, mother to three girls, grandmother to three boys, and a former elementary school teacher. A lifetime writer, Kim travels to women’s groups to share her testimony and her love for writing, tying together the skill of writing a good story with the good plan God has for each life.
She is very active in her church, where she serves as adult Sunday school teacher and participates in the music ministry in both vocal and bell choirs.
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