Not Until You (Hope Springs Book 3)

by Valerie M. Bodden

  She turned to look at him. He was peering past the lush trees that lined the road to examine the house numbers. But his jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched in his lap.

  “Hey.” Her voice was soft.

  When he met her eyes, his were stormier than ever.

  “I’m sorry I asked about your family. I shouldn’t have pried.”

  His lips tipped up the smallest fraction. “It’s okay.”

  How could he say it was okay? How could anyone be okay after their father had said the things Nate’s father had? No wonder Nate seemed so haunted most of the time.

  “There.” He pointed to a stately brick house at the top of the hill. Ivy climbed up one wall, and there were gaps in the mortar between the bricks. But the house had obviously been the jewel of the area in its time.

  Violet pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. Then she just sat for a second.

  She was stiff and tired, but an overwhelming sense of accomplishment washed over her.

  “You okay?” Nate touched a hand to her arm.

  “I can’t believe I just did that.” She felt like she’d been freed from a cage she’d stuck herself in three years ago.

  “I can,” Nate said simply, opening his door.

  Violet stared after him a second before opening her own door. Did he really have that kind of faith in her?

  “Come on,” Nate called from the foot of the porch staircase.

  She hurried to join him. The paint on the porch steps was chipped, and its railing tilted precariously, but the boards underneath were solid.

  She knocked on the door, and the two of them waited side-by-side, standing close enough that their arms brushed every time one of them moved. She should step away, but she couldn’t make herself do it. After everything they’d shared in the car, she felt closer to him. And she was afraid they’d lose that if she moved too far away.

  She reached to squeeze his hand. “Thanks for coming with me. It means a lot.”

  He squeezed back, offering her a smile that went straight to her heart. “You’re welcome.”

  They pulled their hands apart as the door in front of them opened. A stooped, older gentleman stood on the other side, his dark glasses a sharp contrast to his white hair and pale eyes. When he smiled at them, his face disappeared in a mass of wrinkles.

  He held out a hand to Violet, then to Nate. “I’m Barney. I’m so glad you decided to come.” He stepped to the side, ushering them through the door. Nate let Violet pass ahead of him, giving her another smile that brightened the dim interior.

  Barney led them to the dining room, where a petite woman with white curls was packing china from the hutch into a box.

  “They’re here, Gladys,” Barney said loudly. He leaned toward them and muttered, “She doesn’t hear so well anymore. But she’s eighty-eight, so what do you expect?”

  The woman turned. “I heard that.” She tossed a ball of crumpled newspaper at him. “And I’m only eighty-seven. You’re the one who’s eighty-eight.”

  Gladys crossed the room and held her hand out to them. Her grip was firm yet kind. “I’m so glad to know you’ll find a good home for this hutch. It’s been through a lot with us.”

  Barney wrapped his arm around Gladys’s shoulders, tucking her against him.

  “The stories this old piece could tell.” He whistled, long and low.

  Bending over to open the hutch’s lower cabinets, Violet gave Nate a significant look.

  “See?” she mouthed. He stuck his tongue out at her.

  To Barney and Gladys, she said, “Won’t you tell us some of them? Where did this beauty come from?”

  Barney’s eyes lit up, and Violet was in heaven as he spent the next hour telling them about how his great-grandmother had the piece shipped to her from Germany when she immigrated to America in the late 1800s.

  “She also brought over all her family’s china,” Gladys chimed in. “But they had to sell it during the Depression.” She gestured at the plate she was wrapping. “When Barney’s grandmother inherited the hutch, she bought a new set, and it’s been in the family ever since.”

  “My mother got the hutch after my grandmother,” Barney said. “But I didn’t have any sisters―just us four boys―so I got the hutch and the china. Not sure it was the best deal since my brothers all got cash, but it’s what Gladys wanted.”

  Gladys swatted at him with a box. “And a good thing, too, since your brothers blew all their money gambling before they could spend a penny of it.”

  “That’s a lovely history,” Violet said, shooting Nate another pointed look. To her surprise, he seemed equally fascinated with the story they’d heard. Maybe she’d convert him into an antique lover yet. “What made you decide to sell it now?”

  Barney rubbed a hand across his nearly hairless scalp. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re no spring chickens.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Gladys interrupted, placing the final piece of china in the box.

  Barney ducked his head “I stand corrected. I’m no spring chicken. We’ve decided to move into a retirement community, and we won’t have room for it there.”

  “And you have no children to pass it on to?” Violet asked gently. She was plenty familiar with that ache. She and Cade had decided to start a family only a few months before he died. For the first few weeks after he was gone, she’d prayed she might at least be carrying his child. But God had chosen to answer that prayer with a no. She still struggled with the grief of that answer sometimes.

  “We did. A daughter.” Gladys offered a gentle smile. “She went to be with the Lord more than fifty years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Violet laid a hand on the old woman’s arm.

  “Thank you, but she knew her Savior. She’s in heaven now. And one of these days, we’ll be there with her.”

  Barney wrapped an arm protectively around his wife, who fixed him with a sweet smile. They were so cute. Is this what she and Cade would have been like when they were older?

  But she had to stop thinking like that. There was no point. She and Cade would never look like this. Because Cade would never grow old with her.

  She glanced at Nate. What would he be like as an old man?

  She pushed the thought away. She had no intention of growing old with anyone who wasn’t Cade.

  Nate cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to rush things along, but we have quite a long drive yet.”

  “Goodness, yes. If you let us, we’ll go on all day.” Gladys shook her head, elbowing her husband. She turned to Nate. “Now, what do you think? Do you want the hutch? Or maybe you need a minute to discuss it?”

  Nate shook his head. “This is completely her decision.” He pointed at Violet, and she stepped forward, ready to say she’d take it.

  But Barney jumped in. “Smart man. A good husband knows when to step aside.” He gave Nate an exaggerated wink, but Nate stared back blankly.

  It took Violet a second to get what Barney was saying. Nate seemed to catch on at the same time.

  “Oh, no, we’re not―”

  “I’m not her―”

  They both laughed. Violet’s face warmed, and even Nate’s cheeks took on a hint of red.

  “We’re just neighbors,” Violet finally said.

  Barney and Gladys glanced back and forth between Violet and Nate, then looked at each other and smiled.

  “They’re just neighbors,” Barney said to Gladys.

  “So I hear,” Gladys replied. Neither could contain their grins, and Violet bit her lip. Did these two strangers sense the energy she’d started to feel every time she was near Nate?

  And what was that half smile on Nate’s face? Did he feel it, too?

  She shook herself. This was supposed to be a business trip. “We’ll take it.”

  Nate shook out his arms, rolled his neck, and squatted at the corner of the hutch one more time. They’d been trying for an hour to get it loaded, but no matter how many different angles they attempted,
it was too heavy for him and Violet to move on their own, especially with Violet’s arm still in a cast.

  “Let me give it a try.” Barney stepped forward, and Nate scrutinized him. He didn’t appear frail by any stretch, but the man was nearly ninety years old. Nate didn’t want to be responsible for breaking him.

  “Barnabas Riley, step away from that hutch right this minute.” Gladys bustled into the room, pointing a spatula at her husband.

  Barney stepped back. “Busted.” But he nudged Nate and whispered, “I wasn’t really going to do it. Just had to show her I’m still willing.”

  Nate laughed with him, but Violet gave the hutch a regretful pat. “Looks like it wasn’t meant to be.”

  “Hold on a minute, dear. You’re the one we want to have this.” Gladys disappeared again.

  Nate and Violet both looked at Barney, but he threw his hands into the air. “Even after sixty-five years of marriage, I don’t understand everything about that woman.” He winked at them again. “Keeps me on my toes.”

  Three minutes later, Gladys reappeared. “I called Sylvia, and she said her grandson can come over to help us.”

  “That’s great.” Violet pulled out a chair to sit down and stifled a yawn. She looked exhausted.

  “In the morning,” Gladys finished.

  Violet dropped the hand that had been covering her yawn. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we can come back tomorrow.”

  “Of course not.” Gladys waved her objection away. “You can stay with us. It’s getting late anyway. You don’t want to drive back yet tonight.”

  Nate stole a subtle peek at the time. It was already eight o’clock. And Violet looked ready to drop.

  She gave him a questioning look, and he shrugged, hoping she would understand that meant it was up to her.

  “I guess that would work. The store is always closed on Mondays anyway.” Her eyes traveled to Nate. “Unless you need to be in the office.”

  He should be. He really should be. If Dad called and he didn’t answer, he would never hear the end of it. But right now, he cared more about what Violet needed. And she needed this hutch to save her store.

  “I don’t need to be in the office.”

  “Oh, but Tony―” Violet clasped his arm.

  She had a point there. He couldn’t leave his dog uncared for.

  “Unless.” Violet pulled out her phone. “Just a second.” She wandered toward the kitchen with the phone pressed to her ear.

  “Looks like I’m not the only one with a mysterious woman.” Barney chuckled so hard he broke into a coughing fit.

  “Oh, we’re―”

  “Neighbors.” Gladys rested a hand on her husband’s back. “We know.”

  Barney stopped coughing and straightened, shooting Nate a wink.

  Nate was about to argue more, but Violet stepped back into the room. Her smile was enough to steal his protest.

  “Sophie’s going to stop by to take care of Tony tonight and tomorrow morning. I hope you don’t mind, but I told her about your super-secret hiding spot for the spare key.”

  Nate pretended to be shocked. “How do you know about that?”

  “I saw you putting it under the mat the other day when you forgot your keys, remember?”

  He did remember. He had been especially enchanted by her laugh that day. It was amazing how many of his recent memories involved her.

  Including this one.

  “That settles it then.” Gladys clapped her hands, looking more like an eight-year-old than an eighty-seven-year-old. “I’ll get the extra beds made up. Then we’ll all have a nice dinner together. The roast I put in earlier is way too big for Barney and me anyway.”

  Gladys passed close to Nate as she headed for the stairs. “Don’t worry, dear. She may just be a neighbor now. But she’ll be more soon.” She winked, then was gone.

  Nate looked from her retreating form to the other side of the room, where Violet was laughing at something Barney had said. His heart leaped, trying to break free of the tight hold he was keeping on it. But it was getting harder every moment.

  Then Violet looked at him, and he knew: it was already too late.

  Chapter 21

  Violet let a contented sigh escape as she eased into the bed. She hadn’t been pampered like this in a long time. Gladys had treated them to a delicious meal of pot roast, glazed vegetables, and a rich and gooey chocolate cake.

  Even better than the food had been the entertainment. Barney and Gladys had delighted them with stories about how they met at a butcher shop and how he proposed to her on the Ferris wheel at the county fair. Violet had laughed until her side hurt when he confessed he’d dropped the ring, and they’d had to shut down the ride so they could search the ground. It took three hours, but they finally found it.

  They talked about more serious memories, too, including their teenage daughter’s death after a five-year battle with cancer and the difficult period in their marriage that had followed. It had taken them several years to find their way back to each other.

  As she talked about that time, Gladys had said something that made Violet reassess her whole life the past three years: “We finally figured out that holding onto past hurts was keeping us from experiencing future joy. Letting go didn’t make the past hurt less; it just allowed us to recognize that it was only one thread in the tapestry of our lives.”

  Violet examined the stitches in the quilt on her lap. Was that what Cade had been? One thread in her tapestry? She had thought he was the entire picture, top to bottom, beginning to end. But now the whole thing had unraveled. How did she tie off that thread and graft in a new one? And what did that new thread look like?

  An image of Nate popped into her head. Violet had found herself studying him as the older couple talked. He had laughed in all the right places, looked sympathetic when they spoke of the tough times, and yet Violet felt like he wasn’t really there. He seemed lost in his own head, a haunted look fogging his eyes as if whatever he saw in there was too painful to bear.

  But whenever he’d noticed her watching him, his eyes had cleared, and his smile had become genuine, kicking up a flutter deep in her insides.

  Violet had felt her soul stir as she observed the love between Barney and Gladys. But it wasn’t the same kind of jealousy-inducing stir she’d felt when Sophie and Spencer showed their honeymoon pictures. It was more of a nostalgia for something she’d never had, if that was possible. And a longing to have a future like that with someone, even if it couldn’t be Cade.

  Violet sucked in a sharp breath. She had never let herself think that before. She’d told herself that her future was as a single woman. That she’d be faithful to Cade until she joined him in heaven. Thinking anything else felt like breaking her marriage vows.

  And yet, her vows had said “till death do us part,” and death had parted them.

  While that didn’t change her love for Cade, it did change her situation. It made her alone―more than that, it made her lonely.

  She had thought she was fine with that.

  But spending so much time with Nate lately had made her less sure.

  Had made her want more.

  Violet tugged the pillow over her head. What would Cade think if he knew her line of thought? Would he want to punch Nate? Or would he shake Nate’s hand and tell him to take care of her?

  She wrestled with the question for hours before she fell into an uneasy sleep.

  It seemed like only minutes later when her eyes popped open, straining to see in the pitch dark as her blood thundered through her. Where was she? And what had woken her up?

  Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dark, and Violet remembered she was at Gladys and Barney’s. But that didn’t explain why her heart had turned into a locomotive. She didn’t think it had been a nightmare. Her skin was dry, not clammy, and she wasn’t all tangled in the sheets like she was every time she dreamed about trying save Cade.

  A string of yells came at her through the wall, from Nate’s room next
door. Violet cocked her head, listening more closely. After a minute, the yelling picked up again. It sounded panicked.

  Violet slid quickly out of bed and tiptoe-ran to the door. She clicked it open silently, then stood in the hallway, pressing her ear to Nate’s door.

  When the yelling started again, she grabbed the knob and shoved the door open.

  Then she froze.

  Nate was curled in a ball on his side, the blankets wrapped around him in a tangle.

  He threw out an arm, palm outward, as if trying to stop someone. “No!” His voice was hoarse. “No! Not her!”

  He pulled his arm back to his core, his whole body going limp for a second before it trembled under the weight of a huge sob. “NO!”

  The word unfroze Violet, and she rushed to the bed, dropping to her knees at Nate’s side.

  “Hey,” she whispered, her hand rubbing his bare shoulder. “Nate. Wake up.”

  Nate moaned. “Please.”

  Violet rubbed harder, spoke louder. “Nate, I’m here. It’s Violet.”

  Nate’s eyes flew open and skittered wildly around the room. Violet moved her hand to his rough cheek, turning his face toward her. His eyes stopped on hers.

  It took a moment, but slowly he seemed to register who she was. He heaved a shaky breath. “Violet.”

  She was suddenly aware that she was still touching him. She scooted back a little but remained on her knees. “Bad dream?”

  Nate scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping away a sheen of sweat, and sat up, extracting himself from the blankets. “Yeah. Sorry. Should have warned you I get them sometimes.”

  “Me too.” Violet’s eyes fell on Nate’s bare chest. It was well-defined, but that’s not what her gaze locked on. A long white scar ran from his left shoulder, across his chest, to the outside of his ribs.

  He followed the path of her eyes and reached to grab his shirt, yanking it over his head.

  Violet pushed to her feet and shuffled to sit next to him on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it? The dream?”

  “I can’t.” His voice was raw, uncensored, and Violet knew he wasn’t trying to put her off. He really couldn’t talk about it.