And for herself.
“Leah. Jackson. Wait.” Austin blinked back the moisture in his eyes as he reached for her. What was he doing? Was this who he’d become now? A man who yelled at the woman he loved? Who set this kind of example for the kid he’d come to think of as a son?
They both stopped. Jackson stared at the floor, but Leah was watching him with a look of mingled hurt and compassion.
He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t force the words out past the missile-sized lump that had lodged there.
Finally, he managed to pull out two words. “I’m sorry.”
Jackson threw him a disgusted look and marched out the door, but Leah’s look was longer, more penetrating.
“I want to help.” Her voice broke. “I really do. But you’re right―I can’t fix you. Only God can do that.” She stepped outside but then turned back to him. “I pray you’ll let him.”
With a sad smile, she made her way down the porch steps and to her own house.
For a long time after she’d gone inside, Austin stood staring at her house, with the twinkling Christmas decorations they’d worked so hard to put up together.
They made the house look cozy and homey―the perfect place for a happy family.
Too bad he had finally realized the truth: He was too broken to have a family.
Chapter 37
Coffee.
She needed coffee.
Leah stumbled out of bed, banging her shin on the hope chest at the foot of it, and limped toward the kitchen. The sun was barely up, and only the dimmest light illuminated the hallway, but she didn’t bother to flip on any light switches. She had never had such a horrendous night’s sleep in her life, and she was pretty sure her eyes would seal themselves shut if she exposed them to light right now. It didn’t help that she’d spent half the night on her knees, in tears. At first, she’d prayed that God would fix whatever it was that had broken between her and Austin. But after a while, her prayer had transformed into one for healing for Austin. She whispered it to herself again now as she turned on the stove to boil water.
“Please let Austin find what he needs, Lord. Help him find the one thing that can fix him. Help him find you. And if he has to lose me to find you, please give me peace with that.”
When she’d told Austin yesterday that she couldn’t fix him, it had been a revelation to her too. She’d been trying so hard to make everything better for him―and for Jackson. But she had to surrender all of that to God. Because he was the only one who could give them what they truly needed―the truth that they were forgiven in Jesus.
Leah blew out a long breath. She’d always thought she was good at surrendering to God. Hadn’t she gladly sacrificed her desires for marriage years ago? But now she knew better. Peyton was right―she’d accepted being single because she’d wanted to be in control.
Now, though. Now she wasn’t in control. And she was trying to be okay with that.
In spite of the tiredness that clung to her eyelids, a restless energy compelled her to the living room.
It had finally snowed again overnight, and the faintest light hit the tops of the trees across the street, setting their snow-covered limbs aglow. The image soothed her soul. If God could make such beauty with a little snow and light, imagine what he could do in her life. And in Austin’s.
She let her eyes track to his house just in time to see him jump into his truck. Exhaust steamed the air behind the vehicle as he started the engine. Leah watched, a vague uneasiness creeping in as she wondered where he’d be going so early in the morning.
A second later, he hopped out of the truck and headed back into the house, emerging after a minute carrying a large duffel bag in one hand and his crutches in the other. He threw them into the back of the truck, then moved toward the house again.
Her stomach dropped. When she’d said she was willing to lose him so he could find God, she hadn’t meant right now. Not this way.
Please give me peace with your will, Lord. The prayer had never hurt so much.
But if he was leaving, she couldn’t let him go without giving him the Christmas gift she’d found for him. If nothing else, maybe it would remind him that there were people in the world who cared about him.
She ran to her room and grabbed the gift, which she’d wrapped in a silver and blue foil paper, then pulled on her coat and tucked the gift into her pocket.
She jogged across the yard, snow seeping into the slippers she’d forgotten to change. Oh well. She wasn’t going to go back inside and risk missing him.
Austin looked up when she was halfway across the yard, and she couldn’t tell if his expression held relief or regret.
He came around the truck to meet her as she reached the driveway.
“Going somewhere? Without saying goodbye?” She tried to keep the accusation out of her voice.
He didn’t come closer but squinted at her through the morning light. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” His eyes slid to the road, and he tucked his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. “But I did want to say that I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on you.”
“I understand.” Leah shuffled a few steps closer, and Austin’s eyes traveled to her feet.
“What are you doing out here in slippers?”
She let herself smile a little. “It’s what I do. Remember?” That first night they’d met, when she’d yelled at him for chopping wood at midnight, she never would have guessed that this was where they’d end up.
Although she could see him trying to fight it, a slight smile lifted Austin’s lips, softening his face. She closed the rest of the space between them, though she was careful not to touch him.
“Where are you going?”
Austin sighed and leaned against the tailgate. “To see my old commander at Fort Benning. He has worked with other guys who wanted to appeal the decision to put them on the permanent disability list. If anyone can help me get where I need to be, it’s him.”
Leah pressed her lips tight but nodded. She wanted to argue, to tell him that was the worst thing he could do right now, that he belonged here in Hope Springs, where it was safe and there were people who loved him. But she held her tongue.
“I should make sure I have everything.” He stepped away from the truck and started toward the house, but she reached for his arm.
“What will you do if you can’t redeploy? Will you come back here?”
But she knew the answer before the dejected head shake. “I can’t, Leah. You were right. I’m too broken. And you can’t fix me.” Red rimmed his eyes, and he sniffed and cleared his throat, opening his arms and pulling her in tight.
She wanted to argue, but there was nothing she could say. She would happily accept him as the broken man he was. But if she needed to let him go so he could find the One who could truly fix him, that was what she’d do.
“I really am sorry,” he said into her hair. “For everything.”
She inhaled his warmth, wondering how long she’d remember his comforting scent after he left.
Probably forever.
The realization gave her the courage to finally say the words she’d been holding back. “I love you, Austin.”
He loosened his hold on her and slid his hands to her shoulders, nudging her back so that she could see his face. The torment in his eyes was clear, but so was how he felt about her. “I love you too.” He swept a hand over her cheek, wiping away the moisture that had collected there, and she did the same for him.
“Would you―” Austin looked away, blinking hard. “Would you say goodbye to Jackson for me? Tell him I’m sorry and I’m proud of him.”
She sniffled but managed to rasp, “I’ll tell him.”
Austin pulled away and took a few backward steps toward his house. “I have to check if I missed anything.”
He walked backward nearly all the way to the door, his eyes not leaving hers until he disappeared inside. Leah took the gift out of her pocket as she reac
hed numbly into the back of the truck for his duffel bag. She slid the gift into the bag, then zipped it and walked toward her house.
It’d be easier for both of them if she wasn’t out here when he drove away.
Chapter 38
Austin slowed as the GPS told him to take the exit toward Omaha, his shoulders knotting and stomach churning now that he was close. He’d made it to Indianapolis yesterday, with the plan of driving the rest of the way to Georgia today. But last night, he’d felt compelled to open the emails from Tanner’s wife―all fifty of them. As he’d read them, the love and forgiveness she’d poured into them had left him gasping for air until he’d had to give in to the sobs he’d been stuffing down for an entire year. He’d buried his face in a pillow to keep from alarming the people in the room next door, giving full vent to his grief for the first time. When he’d finally managed to calm himself, he’d picked up the phone and honored the request she signed each of her emails with. Please call.
And now he was on his way there. Omaha was nine hours out of the way, but it didn’t matter. Somehow, he knew he had to go there. Today. Now.
Two more turns, and the GPS announced he was at his location. He parked on the street, rolling his shoulders and letting out a long, slow breath.
It took a few minutes to work up the courage to step out of the truck and make his way toward the front door.
The house was quaint, its Christmas lights not quite as elaborate as what they’d done to Leah’s house but still festive. Two sleds lay in the middle of the yard, and boot prints crisscrossed the snow.
The home looked completely normal. Like a happy family lived here. Austin wasn’t sure what he’d expected―curtains drawn, a black veil over the door, an empty yard?―but it wasn’t this.
When he got to the door, he just stood there, staring at the doorbell. Could he really do this? Could he really stand here and talk to Tanner’s wife? Could he ever justify why he was the one standing here, and not her husband?
Before he could retreat, he lifted his hand to the doorbell.
The action set off chaos in the house. A dog took up wild barking, and children’s voices shrieked. Through the sidelight, Austin watched a boy of six or so walk toward the door, followed by his little sister. They were a little older than the last picture he’d seen of them, but Tanner had talked about them so much that Austin felt like he knew them already.
The sight of the kids set up an ache in his chest at the thought of his makeshift family in Hope Springs, but he stuffed it down.
The boy opened the door and sent a grin his way, and the air caught in Austin’s lungs. Aside from the gaps where his front teeth should have been, the boy was nearly a mirror image of his father.
“Are you Mr. Austin?” The boy’s voice was innocent and filled with admiration.
Austin nodded, but he couldn’t speak.
The boy didn’t seem to mind. “I’m Matthew. This is my sister Martha.” He patted the little girl who had finally managed to catch up with him.
Austin swallowed. The kids were both so young, neither would remember their father. It was a blessing in some ways, he knew. He’d been young enough when his father was killed that he’d never experienced the sharp pain of missing someone who’d once been a regular part of his life. But he also knew they’d grow up with questions about their father―questions maybe he could help answer. Someday.
“Sorry. I was elbow-deep in dishwater.” A slender, dark-haired woman hurried up behind the children. “I’m Natalie.”
Austin shook the hand she held out. He recognized her from Tanner’s photos too.
“I’m so glad you could make it.” Natalie gestured for him to come in, then sent the kids to play in the playroom. “I’ve got some coffee and cookies in the kitchen.”
Austin followed her and took the seat she indicated at the table, but he waved off the cookies and coffee. He couldn’t have eaten right now if he’d gone weeks without food.
Natalie pulled out the chair next to him and poured herself a cup of coffee, picking up a cookie and dunking it. “I was surprised to get your call last night. I’d actually told myself that if I didn’t hear from you by Christmas, I’d stop sending the emails. I figured either I had the address wrong or you didn’t want to hear from me.”
Austin slid his finger over a crack in the table. “I got them,” he said quietly. “But I couldn’t bring myself to open them until last night.”
“And what changed last night?”
“I have no idea,” he answered in all honesty. Maybe it was the anonymity of the hotel room. Maybe it was the emotional conversation with Leah that morning. Maybe it was loneliness. All he knew was that when he’d turned on his phone and noticed a new email from her, he’d clicked right to it and read it―and he hadn’t stopped reading until he’d gotten through all of the messages.
“I’m glad you did.” Natalie’s smile was warm and kind. If he’d expected to find bitterness or anger toward him, he couldn’t spot any.
He glanced around the cozy room. One wall was dedicated to pictures. Tanner stared at him out of nearly all of them. One holding each of his kids as newborns. Several family photos. One of him and Natalie on their wedding day.
Austin deliberately turned away from the photos. It was too painful to look at the face he’d only seen in his memory for the past year.
“How do you do it?” The question came out before he could consider whether it was insensitive. “How do you get through the days without him?”
Natalie paused with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. Her eyes went to the wall of pictures behind him, but Austin didn’t follow her gaze.
“Some days I miss him so much, I think there must be a hole clear through the middle of me.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, and Austin was sorry he’d asked.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have―”
But she gave him a gentle smile. “But I know he’s in his true home. In heaven. And I know I’ll join him there one day. When it’s time.”
Austin grimaced. He hadn’t come here to debate heaven. But as long as she brought it up. “How could it possibly have been Tanner’s time? He was way too young.”
Natalie shook her head. “There’s no such thing as too young or too old. God calls us home when he knows the time is right. There’s nothing that’s outside of his control. Not even this.”
Austin wanted to be angry at her answer. How could she believe in a God who would “call someone home,” as she put it, on a whim?
“I get mad sometimes,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “But then I remind myself of the promise I made to Tanner every time I talked to him.”
“What was that?” His throat burned around the question, but he needed to know.
“I promised him ‘even if.’” She looked at Austin, as if waiting to see if he understood.
He didn’t. “Even if?”
Her gentle smile held no judgment. “Have you ever heard the Bible account of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego?”
Austin shrugged. He’d probably learned about them in Sunday School. Long ago.
“It was Tanner’s favorite Bible story.”
A pang shot through Austin. Tanner had tried to talk to him about the Bible on so many occasions, but Austin had shut him down every time.
“Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego worshiped the true God,” Natalie continued. “And when they refused to bow down to a false god, the king of Babylon threatened to throw them into a fiery furnace. But these three men said, basically, ‘Go ahead and throw us in there. Our God will save us. But even if he doesn’t, we won’t worship your false gods. We’ll still worship the true God. Even if.’”
She leaned toward him, expression earnest. “That’s the kind of faith Tanner wanted for us. Faith that even if something happened to him, we would continue to worship God. To trust in him and his will for our lives. I have to pray every day for that even if kind of faith. And God has been faithful in answering that prayer.”
Austin blinked and looked away from her sincere eyes. He wasn’t sure he could ever pray for that kind of faith.
“There’s something Tanner wanted you to have.” Natalie pushed her chair back and stepped toward the kitchen counter, grabbing a well-worn book and passing it to him. “This was his personal Bible.”
But she didn’t have to tell him that. He’d seen Tanner pull the beat-up book out of his pack more times than he could count. He’d offered to let Austin borrow it dozens of times. But Austin had always declined.
He half laughed as he took the book now. Apparently Tanner had gotten his way in the end.
“There’s a letter for you in it,” Natalie added. “It’s from Tanner. Just so you’re not freaked out when you open it and see your name in his handwriting.”
Austin’s throat threatened to close, but he managed to squeeze out a thank you.
“I’m glad you came.” Natalie bent down to hug him, and Austin closed his eyes, wishing more than anything that she could be hugging her husband instead. “Tanner would be glad too.”
Chapter 39
“How many of these are we going to make?” Jackson set down the candy cane-shaped cutout cookie he’d been frosting and picked up an angel-shaped one, dipping his knife into a bowl of blue frosting.
Leah couldn’t help the laugh. They’d been working on the cookies for three hours already, and the boy hadn’t shown any sign of tiring. Of course, it helped that for every ten cookies he frosted, he ate one.
But she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about that. Not when she was having such a wonderful Christmas Eve with him.
The results of the house decorating contest had been announced earlier this morning. Their house had taken third place, earning them a fruit basket that sat in the middle of the counter now.
For the life of her, Leah couldn’t remember why she’d thought it was so important to win the contest. She didn’t need Hawaii to bond with Jackson. They were doing that right now, in the simple act of baking cookies.
Not Until Christmas Morning (Hope Springs Book 5) Page 20
