"Nothing in this whole summer that involved Leah has made sense. I don't know why this should be different. It's all in how you choose to interpret events. Sure, it's possible. She must have loved you, even when she was being difficult. Your memories of growing up support that."
"She was terribly angry with me, though, at the time of the accident. And then she took her own life in such a horrible way, knowing that I'd be the one to find her."
"Ah, honey.” He reached for her and drew her close. He moved his hands over her slowly, comfortingly, as if memorizing her body. “Sometimes people give in to angry rages that have nothing to do with the ones they love. You were handy for her to vent her frustration. Maybe she knew you'd find her and maybe not. In any case, she knew that you, above all others, would forgive her. No matter what she'd done. The two of you were halves of a whole. She trusted you with everything she had to give."
Her eyes were so dry that her eyeballs ached. She closed her lids and burrowed into Cass's shoulder. Her voice was muffled. “I would have liked to say goodbye. We left in such a hurry, and the storm was so awful. She was crying."
"That statue wasn't her, Kate. You know that. She might have used it as a conductor of some kind to get a message to you, a message so strong you couldn't ignore it, but she herself has been gone for a long time."
"She's been pretty close around since I came back to the house! Well, her spirit, anyway."
He rubbed her back as they sat in companionable silence. “I don't pretend to understand any of this, but the one thing that is coming in loud and clear is that no matter how angry she once was, she loved you more than you've been thinking. That dream about the tombstones. She even gave you the date your life would be threatened. Had you thought of that?"
She nodded. “That helps. It helps a lot. What was so hard was believing all along that she hated me. And now, now that she's truly gone, I feel a sense of peace, of closure, about her. Do you think the house will be gone in the morning? Her statue?"
"I think it's a distinct possibility. I'm afraid so. Yes."
"If the house is gone ... Everything I've read leads me to believe that the spirit stays within the confines of a certain space. On the other hand, she appeared in the car."
Kate drew a ragged breath. “Now that she accomplished her goal ... If the house is gone, maybe Leah is gone, too. Maybe she wanted me to release her somehow. Maybe she thought that if I got mad enough at her interference I'd somehow do something to set her free."
"You're going to have to choose a theory. Either she was trying to make you thoroughly angry, or she was trying to save you. I vote for the latter. And I agree that if the flood reaches that far, and there's little doubt it will, the house is gone. And so, likely, is Leah's spirit. Hold the thought, honey, that she's happy. She warned you, and you and Max are safe. At the same time, she has been set free from her attachment to the house. Can you be content with that?"
"Maybe. Yes. I think so.” She was weary. So weary she thought her bones might crumble into dust, and at the same time she was wired too tight to sit still. “I keep thinking of her pointing at me from the window at home. What if she wasn't pointing, but imploring me to understand? What if she wasn't telling me to go, but saying ‘let me go,’ instead?"
The beam of headlights cut through the night behind them and a car inched its way into the space beside them. Behind that car, another and yet another, came to a stop.
"Someone else remembered this as high ground,” Cass said.
"It's the Junes! And I don't know who else. Crack the window,” she cried.
"Are you okay?” she called through the slit. The storm hadn't abated. Wind and rain sliced in through the narrow opening.
"Right as rain,” came the answer and then a laugh. “Well, never mind the rain. We're all okay. And we have Babe here. He'd just come to visit when the sirens went off, so we loaded him into the car with all the rest."
Kate waved that she understood, gave a thumbs up with both hands, and pressed the button to roll up the window. “They have Babe!"
"I heard. And now you know everyone is all right. You can quit worrying about that, love. We'll cope with the rest in the morning."
She tried to smile, but couldn't quite bring it off. “I guess. I'm not sure I want morning to come, though."
"It's all right, Kate. We'll make it all right. As long as the ones we love are safe, we are rich beyond belief right now."
"I'm going to call Max to make sure. I think Stacey will feel better to hear from you too."
"Right. You go first."
Kate was right. Both children were immeasurably relieved to hear they were safe. Max was watching a rerun of some baseball movie with Bree and chowing down on a bowl of popcorn he'd made in the microwave all by himself, with Aunt Bree standing by of course. They hadn't even lost power.
Kate heaved a huge breath. The tension and fear of the past half hour began to drain away and in their place came a curious sense of peace. Whatever would happen was already under way and there was nothing she could do about it. They were all safe, and houses and possessions could be replaced. She sighed. “I don't guess we have to worry about selling Dad's car now, do we?"
"Not likely. And I had a hot prospect too."
"Now, to wait until dawn."
"And I know just how to put in the time."
She looked at him with a question in her eyes. He looked almost boyish.
In the dim glow from the dash, his eyes shimmered with love and a glimmer of laughter.
"How long has it been since you made out in the front seat of a car?"
"A very long time,” she said, and glanced around the inside of the cab. “I'm not sure I want to know how long it's been for you."
"That's all about to change."
"But Ruby June and Pearly—"
"Let ‘em find their own man. I need to kiss you now that we're all safe."
His kiss wasn't tentative. Nor was it the kiss of a patient man. It was that of a man who had waited long enough. She could feel him trembling through the cotton of his shirt.
Damn the torpedoes, she thought. The windows were so steamed up she couldn't see out. Maybe that meant no one could see in. A laugh welled in her throat. The Junes would only cheer her on if they could see.
She turned her face to his and felt the silky texture of his hair brush her cheek. The need to affirm life was strong. They'd survived a very real, and horribly frightening, danger. Life, every moment, was precious. “Maybe it's been long enough."
"Long enough for what?” he whispered into her mouth as his lips sought hers again.
"Long enough to trust again. Long enough to love."
In an easy move he pushed the seat back, pulled her across his lap and angled his body so that they were comfortable. In the shadows she saw his mouth stretch in a smile.
"You can trust me, Katey-love. I'm a law-abiding, church-going, old-fashioned husband type. Boring."
His hand snaked up beneath her blouse and unerringly found a breast. “Perfect. I knew it. Perfect,” he breathed.
"Never...” Her breath became shallow as her heart began to club against her rib cage. “Never boring."
His thumb, callused with hard, honest work, brushed across one nipple and her whole body sprang to attention.
"I have never been to Cancun or the Galapagos Islands, and may never get there, but I can take you to the stars any old time you want. Just say the word.” And he grinned at her wickedly.
She tilted her head at a provocative angle and asked playfully, “Just what word would that be?"
"Marry me,” he demanded. “Say it. Say you'll marry me. We'll spend our engagement night in the pickup, making our own fireworks."
He pulled her closer yet. The softness of her breasts was crushed against the hard planes of his chest wall. He trembled the entire length of his body. The thought registered that in spite of the difference in their sizes, they seemed to fit. Wonder of all wonders, her curves and fulln
ess fit just where they needed to fit against the rigid angles of his body. Her softness against his hardness.
He ran a hand down her hip and thigh. “God, you feel like silk. The finest, most expensive silk that city slicker friend of yours can buy. Oh yes. Whoopee. Big whoopee."
"Whoopee?” she laughed. “Whoopee?"
"A certain license plate comes to mind, but you get the idea. Will you? It's over, love. It's all over. Leah is at rest and all that's left for us is the good stuff. You and me, Max and Stace. The amount of billable hours Jessica is putting in, I don't think she'll object to changing Stacey's domicile to my address. We've talked about it. What do you think?” He held her away from him and ran his hands up and down her arms.
"You may not even have an address, come morning."
His hands never stopped. It was if he thought she might disappear without the touch of his hands.
"Sure I will. May not have a house on the property, but the land will still be there. I'll make a home for us, Kate. Don't ever doubt it. I'll build a house for you. It may never be on the National Historical Register, but it'll be first in our hearts wherever and whatever it is. How about it?” The feel of his hand caressing her back was almost like a blessing. She felt treasured. Cherished. “You'll make Chocolate Cherry Drops at Christmas and I'll do my best to dig up and transplant your mother's lily bed. Sound good?"
She could feel the beginnings of a slow smile begin to spread, first in her heart, as he had said, then into her eyes, and finally it reached the corners of her mouth.
She took her time, cocking her head and sliding a slow-eyed look his way. “Question."
"Yeah?"
"Build me another screened porch if mine is gone?"
"You got it. On the new house, if yours is gone."
The smile spread across her face. Her chin tilted toward him, his face anxious, his eyes showing dawning understanding.
"It's yes!” he shouted. “You're saying yes! Tie down the lampshades, ladies, she said yes!"
"Shhh ... You'll wake the dead, Cass! Ruby June—People in the valley will hear you."
"I want them to hear. Kate Foster is going to marry Cass Reynolds!” he shouted at the windows.
Then, suddenly, he was quiet. His eyes swam in a skiff of moisture and his arms went around her in a rough hug. “You are saying yes, aren't you? I want to hear the words."
She cupped his face in her hands and rubbed her thumbs gently over his lips. “Yes, Cass. I'm saying yes. I never thought it would be possible to love again, trust again, but I do. I love you."
His eyes softened tenderly. “Ah Kate. I love you back."
"As Max would say, ‘I love you more."
"I said it first."
"But, I think maybe I thought it first."
And forever, she thought. Kate and Cass. Cass and Kate. Just as it was always meant to be.
Epilogue
Melinda Rose Weber ‘October Bride'
Stunning green blossom with lavender lip. Cattleya-type, Laelia-Cattleya Mericlone.
The triumphant chords of “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee” crashed about their heads and poured into the crisp autumn twilight as they recessed up the aisle and out the double doors of the church. Cass accepted the cape an usher handed him and wrapped it around Kate when they hesitated on the top step.
He turned and enfolded her in his arms carefully, as if she might break. “I meant what I said in there, you know,” he said slowly, his voice gruff. “I promised to have you and hold you from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, and I intend to love and to cherish you, until we are parted by death."
Wedding guests, held back by Spence, hooted and heckled from the doors while Kate held herself still, almost without breathing, within the shelter of his body. “I know,” she whispered, her eyes fastened on his. “Me too. My solemn vow."
Voices of the crowd eddied around them, but Kate was only peripherally aware.
"Lay one on ‘er and let's get on with the party!"
"You going to neck all day on the church steps? Where's your imagination, man?"
"Get on with it, Kate. I've got dibs on your bouquet, later."
The crowd had apparently overrun Spence, for they flowed down either side of the steps and lined the walk to the car, jostling one another for position and calling impossible advice to the bride and groom.
Cass shook his head in slow motion. “We've had the strangest courtship within corporate memory, but we'll make up for it now."
"Is that another promise?"
"You bet."
"Mom!” Max pulled on Kate's skirt. “Aunt Bree says we can't throw birdseed until you guys run to the car. What're you waiting for?"
Stacey cocked one hip, her eyes on her dad lowering his head to Kate. “They have to play kissy-face, dummy. It's what you do when you get married!"
Kate heard a rude sound from the area of her left elbow and figured Max had been good about as long as she could reasonably expect. She pulled her mouth from Cass's and murmured, “We'd better get on with the show before Max begins to direct the action."
"Right. But hold this thought.” He kissed her on the nose and smiled down into her eyes. “I have a heavy agenda for later tonight. Real heavy. Stace'll be with her mother and Bree is taking Max for the night, and believe it or not, the house is all ours."
"After the reception,” she said.
"Don't guess we could just skip it and let these guys party on their own?"
"After all the trouble Bree and Rick have gone to? Don't even think it."
With gratitude, Kate had turned the reception over to Bree and her new boyfriend, who was making a respectable name for himself in town as a caterer. She hadn't a clue what to expect, except for the requested Angels on Horseback, but knew that between Bree's fabulous cooking skills and Rick, the food would be wonderful.
"Ready?” Cass held her firmly around the waist and they made a dash for the car.
Birdseed rained over them, catcalls and happy laughter followed them into the car, and above all the organ still pealed, “Joyful, Joyful."
The ride home wasn't long. Not that it was a lovely ride, for the western edge of town had been nearly destroyed by the flood. The June's house was in the process of being restored, but neither Kate's home nor Cass's could be saved. He had poured himself into finishing the house he was building, so as to be able to put a roof over his bride's head, he said. In addition, he had added a large screened back porch, a work still in progress, and labored by lamplight to dig up some of Kate's mother's lily bulbs and transplant them, as well as a few of her roses. He'd also added, with a wicked gleam in his eye, a Jacuzzi in the master bathroom. All he would say, with one raised eyebrow, was that he had plans for that Jacuzzi. All this while volunteering a few hours almost every day to help renovate the town.
Everyone she knew, Kate thought, labored at some point from dawn until dark trying to put the town back together. Slowly but surely, it was happening. The business district had been severely flooded, water marks extended six feet up the walls, but great progress had been made in shoveling out all the mud and scraping walls and floors. Most stores and offices were open for limited business. Homes too badly damaged had been bulldozed and new construction begun on many. Resolve and determination had taken the place of dazed grief in people's eyes.
Farmers had not been so lucky. The crops in fields to the north and west of town had been completely destroyed before the backlash of the levee breach. Bits and pieces of clothing still clung to telephone wires, abandoned appliances stood forlornly in the middle of acres of rotting corn stalks, and homes tilted precariously on their foundations. FEMA had opened an office in town and was settling the homeless in temporary trailer villages. Winsom was moving forward, “crippled but not killed,” as Ruby June said. Eventually, life would be back to normal.
The thought occurred to Kate that the horror that had ended with the catastrophe of a devast
ating flood, had actually begun ten years ago with two girls catapulting into a swollen river and the life-altering events that followed. Water, one of the basic elements of existence, had been both the cause and the closure. A torrent of gratitude flowed swiftly through her. She had, indeed, found peace on the other side. Life was again good.
Cass pulled into their own drive and cut the engine. A steady stream of cars followed him to the curb, WUPEDO leading the pack, but as often happened, he and Kate had been thinking along the same lines. They made no move to get out. “We have so much to be grateful for. It scares me sometimes,” he said.
"It's the people,” Kate said quietly. “We've lost nothing that can't be replaced. And what you and I have gained is incalculable. No price can be put on love. On family."
Cass heaved in a big breath and chuffed it out. “Do you still think Leah was trying to get your attention and warn you all along? To get you out of the house before disaster struck and you and Max were in mortal danger?"
Kate nodded. “I do. And I believe her spirit is at rest now. We can be happy, Cass, with no strings attached. Leah is gone except for my memories, and every day more of the warm and loving ones emerge as the bad ones sink into the past. Thanks to Leah, and you, I'm alive and I'm free."
He unbuckled his seat belt. “She's the unseen guest at this wedding. And a welcome one."
"I like that.” She laid a hand over his and squeezed. “And now, we'd better get inside or Bree will bring the party out here."
He unfolded his long legs and opened the door. “Let's go make some more memories."
Inside, the door opened onto a large foyer. There was no grand circular stairway to the right, but there was a double door leading to a light and airy room for her orchids. The Sharry Baby and a yellow Dancing Lady sat in isolated elegance on a library table. Unopened wedding gifts were stacked around them.
The house was a combination of his touches and hers, symbolic of two blended lives they'd built by uniting families. His leather easy chair, her lovingly refurbished grandmother's rocker. His work shop attached to the garage, her beginning of another orchid collection. The box of picture albums Kate had carried down the stairs, her heart pounding with fear, the siren wailing in her ears. Max's small car collection, Lambie and Grandma's pillow. Stacey's Barbie doll treasures and an entire shelf of classic children's DVDs. And for both kids, a new free-standing backboard loomed at the east end of the driveway. Oddly, the butterfly attached to the statue's finger survived. The statue had not.
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