by Tari Faris
“You can’t tell me that whole exchange wasn’t awkward.” Libby carried the cans to the cupboard.
“Nate . . .” Olivia smacked the table. “Nate needs to figure out what he wants.” She crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them. “He kissed me.”
“What? When?”
“On the fishing trip.”
“Like, a little kiss, or . . .”
Olivia lifted her head and looked at her friend, who stood with a can of green beans paused halfway to the shelf. “Or a feel-it-to-your-toes-and-leaves-you-thinking-of-nothing-else-for-days kiss? Yup, that one.”
Libby raised her eyebrows and finished her task. “And now?”
“Now I don’t know what he’s thinking.” Olivia pushed to a stand and marched Jackson’s mug to the sink. “He’s been avoiding me. Until today, that is, when he decided to show up right when Jackson was here.”
“Are you going to call him?”
“In a minute. Let him stew a bit.” Olivia rinsed the mug, then smacked it down in the sink with more force than she intended. The handle snapped off. “Why do the Williams boys have to be so complicated?”
“Tell me about it.”
Olivia dropped the broken handle and mug in the trash, then pulled her phone from her pocket. She tapped Nate’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. Of course. Olivia set her phone aside. She brushed the crumbs from the table into her hand and carried them to the sink.
“What are you going to do about Nate and Jackson?” Libby claimed a cookie from the plate.
“Jackson and I are only friends. And Nate won’t take my call. But I am going to find a way to get him to talk to me, even if I have to kidnap him.”
Olivia’s phone pinged with an incoming email. She snatched it up and tapped the screen.
To: Olivia Mathews
From: Frank Lang
Subject: New Assignment
The Williams brothers are making quite the story lately. You live right there and I want the inside scoop. Not the same one everyone’s telling. Find a new angle and make it good.
Olivia sighed and dropped her head in her hands. She rubbed her neck. Why couldn’t it have been bungee jumping?
She refused to finish this book. Libby slammed The Hiding Place down on the edge of the couch and stormed out the front door, letting it slam behind her. She plopped down on the top step and wrapped her arms around herself. The clear night sky had stolen any warmth the sun had left that day, and the streetlights washed away all but the brightest stars.
Betsie had died. Libby pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes to keep from crying.
She had dealt with book death before, but this was different. Betsie had been real, and God really hadn’t saved her. Corrie had fought the whole book to keep her sister alive, and in the end she’d died anyway. How could a loving God allow that?
If she’d been Corrie, she’d have given up. Actually, that was exactly what she had done. After Colin. Even after Luke’s disappearance, she’d never looked at God the same.
But the book wasn’t over, which meant Corrie’s story didn’t end when Betsie’s did. When Corrie faced her biggest fear, she kept going. When God hadn’t answered her prayers the way she wanted, she kept on believing. Why?
“Libby?” Austin stood on the sidewalk, a bag in his hand. “Is everything okay?”
She hadn’t seen him besides a quick hello since their kiss, and the last thing she wanted to do was unload on him. She forced a smile and leaned against the railing. “Yup.”
He set the bag at the bottom of the steps and took a seat next to her. “Why don’t I believe you?”
She sat back up and wrapped her arms around herself again as her body released a shiver. “Why does God allow bad things to happen?”
He let out a low whistle as he shed his coat and dropped it on her shoulders. His musky smell and warmth covered her. “That is a big subject for a late-night porch sit.”
“I’m reading a book about a woman who goes through so much, and when God didn’t answer her prayer, she just kept on believing in Him. That’s crazy.”
Austin leaned back on his hands and stretched his legs out. “We could talk for days about this and never come to an easy answer, but I will tell you something my grandmother told me. She made these amazing quilts. One day I saw the one she was working on, and it looked . . . well, terrible. There were strings everywhere, and the edges didn’t seem to line up. I asked her why she was making an ugly quilt.”
“It was the back side of the quilt, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. But as a child I couldn’t see that. All I saw was a mess of threads. She laughed and turned it over for me. Then she pulled me up into her lap and said, ‘Austin, things in life may not always look perfect from your angle. But never forget there is a Master at work, and He has a whole different perspective than you do.’ I guess even then she could see my ‘impossibly high standards.’”
“Do you really believe that there is a Master at work?”
“I do. I’m not always the best at living it out, but I do believe it.”
“Do you think that what happened between you and Nate is part of the messy side of your quilt?”
“No. Maybe. Probably.” He leaned forward on his knees and rubbed at the back of his head. “I will never be one to claim I have it all figured out. But I do know when I push God away, He doesn’t force Himself on me. And when I look for Him, He tends to find me.”
“Look for God? How?”
He shrugged. “Go to church. Read the Bible. Read books like the one you were talking about. God isn’t hiding from you. He wants to be found.” After a long pause, he glanced over at her. “Not to change the subject, but—”
“You think the kiss was a mistake.”
“What? No. Do you?”
“No, but we haven’t talked since then, so I thought . . .”
He turned toward her and took her face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve been crazy busy with the square. But no, I don’t think it was a mistake.”
As if to prove his point, he leaned in and angled his mouth over hers. He tasted of grape ChapStick and smelled of brisk autumn nights. There was something about touching him that filled her with energy and the need to be even closer. As if her very skin called out for him. He ended the kiss and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and tucking her under his chin.
He was so gentle with her. It had been two months since she bandaged his arm that day, and the memory of the muscles in his arms hadn’t done him justice. But his strength didn’t frighten her as she might have guessed. If anything, she felt safer, protected. He was her own Austen hero—actually, Austin hero, but Jane still would’ve approved.
Austin brushed a stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I’d like to take you out Friday. All day.”
“What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise.” He dropped another quick kiss on her lips, then leaned back. “There is one more thing. Do you remember when my dad—”
A car door shut, and they both jumped. Olivia stood by her hatchback a few feet away in the driveway. How had they not seen her? She must have pulled up while they were kissing. Libby’s face warmed at the thought.
Austin smirked as he stood and picked up his bag. “We’ll finish talking on Friday.”
“Till Friday.” She started to take off his coat, but he shook his head.
“I’ll get it later.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“Cabbage for the hippo.” He reached into the bag and held up the green leafy ball as he faded into the darkness.
Olivia walked up and dropped into Austin’s spot. “Let’s talk about what is going on with you and Austin. I do believe I saw two kisses since I arrived.”
“We have a date Friday.”
“That’s all I get?” Olivia gripped Libby’s arm. “I need details.”
Libby’s heart rate sped up. She was definitely not as practiced at being so candid like Oli
via. “Maybe we should first talk about what you’re going to do about Jackson and Nate.”
Olivia leaned back against the opposite railing and closed her eyes. “Jackson. It’s perfect on paper, I just don’t feel that way about him. He texted me and wants to take me to dinner next Saturday, but I don’t really see that changing anything.”
“Because of Nate?”
She covered her face with her hands. “How dumb am I? I thought Nate might actually come around after our kiss on Thursday.”
“Not dumb. Optimistic. I know I’m still praying he comes around.” Libby paused as her own words echoed in her mind. Praying? Why had she said that? Was there a Master working on her life? Corrie ten Boom had been convinced there was one working in her life.
Libby didn’t know if she could ever trust God again, but maybe today she just needed to turn the page—in The Hiding Place and in her life. “Do you still need help in the nursery at church?”
“Always. Why?”
“I’m not ready to start attending, but maybe the kids’ area is a good place to start.”
Olivia’s face brightened into a smile. “I couldn’t agree more. And so do about half a dozen six-year-olds.”
Libby shook her head. “I said nursery.”
“Who better to tell those terrors—uh, I mean, sweet cherubs—stories than the librarian?”
The idea of children gathered around her was familiar and comfortable. She had to start somewhere. Maybe the beginning was the right place to start.
thirteen
Libby glanced from the passing foliage to Austin in the driver’s seat of the truck, his left arm in the window while his right arm held the top of the wheel. He had insisted on picking her up at eight o’clock this morning, and since then they’d been driving down a road she’d never been on. From the way he kept glancing at his GPS, he hadn’t spent too much time here either. Which brought her back to the question circling her mind. “Where are we headed?”
He brushed his dark hair away from his forehead. “You don’t seem to understand the concept of the word ‘surprise.’”
She understood surprises. She even liked them—sort of. But she also liked to know, research, be well informed.
He’d worn a buffalo-plaid shirt and jeans. So they weren’t headed to a fine restaurant, but his clean-shaven jaw and hint of aftershave said that he’d taken time with his appearance. As the morning sun warmed the cab, he’d pushed up his sleeves a bit, exposing his muscular forearms.
She’d seen him briefly each night this week. But he’d been so exhausted from helping with the new library roof that he’d barely been able to keep his eyes open. The day he’d been running between the roof and the auger, he’d actually fallen asleep mid-conversation with her. Mumbling in his sleep about cabbage.
But Otis had moved in time for the auger, and the roof was done. With any luck, today would be a restful day for him.
She watched the side of the road for a town name. “And we’re going to be gone all day?”
He reached across the seat, grabbed her hand, and ran his thumb across her knuckles. “I wanted you to have a memorable first date. I had fun planning this, and I think you’ll like it too.”
Nothing like a bit of pressure. “I’m sure I will.” Or she’d lie.
“Who’s the guy I saw you talking to on your porch yesterday?”
“Jackson. He stopped by to talk to Olivia.”
“Are they a thing? I thought something was happening between her and Nate.” He let go of her hand and checked the GPS again.
“There should be.” She leaned forward and turned down the radio. “But Nate needs to let go of the past.”
“Nate?” He lifted one eyebrow at her, then fixed his eyes back on the road. “He’s the king of letting go of the past.”
“I know he hurt you, Austin. But if you look at his life, you could see he’s not. He beats himself up over what happened. He doesn’t think he deserves Olivia, so he pushes her away. He volunteers with the fire department, high school basketball team, and at some shelter. He wants to help with the family business, so he went to bat at the town council to get you the contract. He knows money is tight, so he’s been working off some of your dad’s bill at the care home on Saturdays. Is there anything I’m missing?”
“Wait, what? Say that again?” Austin quickly braked to avoid hitting the car in front of him.
Libby’s seat belt jerked her back in place.
“Sorry.”
She adjusted the strap and searched for words. Did Austin not know? “Which part?”
“The part where he went to the town council to get me the contract and that he’s working off my dad’s bill. Both of those are news to me.” He flipped on his blinker and turned right, then crossed a bridge over the Muskegon River.
“I’m sorry. I probably wasn’t supposed to say anything. I thought you knew.”
“No.” He shook his head again. “Why doesn’t he think he’s good enough for Olivia?”
Libby shrugged. “Life choices. Mistakes. Something about an uncle.”
“Uncle Greg? He abandoned his wife and kids. That’s not Nate.” He ran his hands over the steering wheel a few times. “Besides, don’t pastors preach grace and forgiveness?”
“He does. But I think he forgets to preach it to himself. Then again, forgiveness isn’t an easy thing, whether you’re forgiving yourself or others. If it was, you would have forgiven Nate by now.” She smoothed down a tear in the upholstery.
“I’m . . . trying. I left him in charge of a very important delivery today.”
“Really?” She reached over and squeezed his arm. “That’s great.”
“He better not mess it up.”
She shoved his shoulder. “Austin!”
“I’m kidding.” He tapped at the steering wheel as he checked his map again. “But if he misses this delivery, the nursery can’t come back for another few weeks and will charge an additional fee. They were pretty adamant about both those points.”
“Nate can handle it.” She let her hand linger on his shoulder as she rested her head back. She could get used to drives in the country with Austin. “Now, where are we headed?”
“You’re terrible.” He slowed the car as they entered a small town.
“Can you at least tell me what town this is?”
He pointed to an approaching sign. “Newaygo.”
Libby sat up straighter and studied a storefront to her right. This Old House Antiques. “I bet I could find some great stuff in there. Are we going antiquing?”
“Nope.” Austin turned left onto Wood Street and then right into a parking lot. He slid out of the truck and jogged around the front to open her door. “This way.” He led her down the sidewalk in the direction of the antique store but pulled her to the left before they reached the street and paused in front of a small gazebo. There was something almost familiar about it, but how could that be possible?
Libby ran her hand along the smooth wood as she eyed the simple design of the railing and frets. What really stood out on the eight-sided structure was the pagoda roof and cupola on top. She only knew those terms because she’d looked them up after seeing . . . “This looks like Heritage’s gazebo.”
“Good eye.” He checked his watch, then eyed the structure. “I believe it was the inspiration for the one in Heritage that Luke designed. He just created it on a larger scale. But this isn’t what we’re here to see.”
“It’s not?”
“Nope.” He took her hand and led her through the gazebo to the front of a building. It was a beautiful building with a stately veranda over the front steps, held up by two concrete pillars. Two old-fashioned light posts with globe lights on top stood like guards on each side of the door. The front of the veranda boasted the word “LIBRARY” in large capital letters over the entrance.
“You brought me to a library?” She spun toward Austin and gripped his arm.
“Not just any library.” He pulled a paper from his
pocket and unfolded it. “The Newaygo Library was funded in December of 1913 by the Carnegie Foundation. It was the fifty-first of the sixty-one libraries funded in Michigan and is still in operation today.”
“You brought me to a Carnegie library?” Her hand flew to her face. She might just swoon. This was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him in a giant bear hug. “Thank you.”
Austin leaned down and brushed his lips across her forehead. “Now let’s get you that picture.”
“Right.” Libby rushed to the bottom step, spread out her arms, and smiled.
Austin held up her phone and snapped a few photos.
“Now I have to go find Pride and Prejudice and get a photo with that. Do you think it’s open?”
Austin looked at his watch. “It will be in about one minute.” The lock clicked in the door. “Good, they’re early. We have to be back on the road in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” She spun to face him. “What could be more important than a Carnegie library?”
“More Carnegie libraries. I’ve scheduled as many as I can today. We can’t get to all sixty-one today, but I think we can hit eight.”
Libby blinked back tears. “You planned all this for me?” No one had ever planned a whole day for her, especially a day of traveling a couple hundred miles just because of her silly affection for libraries.
As if reading her mind, Austin wrapped her in a hug and pressed his lips to her temple. “And I’ll plan trips to the other fifty-three if you’ll let me. Now, where’s that Pride and Prejudice?”
He’d show Austin that he could depend on him, even if it meant sitting here for two hours waiting for a truck to arrive. Nate scratched the back of Shiro’s ears as she lay lounging on the couch next to him. The girl didn’t have a care in the world. Must be nice.
A text came in and he pulled his phone from his pocket.
Olivia
We need to talk.
He sighed and dropped his phone on the couch. Maybe she was right, but until he knew how to respond to the questions he’d seen in her eyes, what was the point?