by Delia Latham
“Well, I mean it sincerely. I’m honored to have actually met you. One day I plan to have an entire collection of Logan Bullard masterpieces.”
“Speaking of which…” Logan stood. “Excuse me for a moment.” He walked through the kitchen and disappeared into the storage room on the other side.
Raine sent Dec a puzzled glance. “What—?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
Logan reappeared in a jiffy, carrying a large framed canvas. He’d turned the back of it toward Raine and Dec, and he propped it on the table, still not turning it around.
“I wanted to contribute something to the shelter. I stopped in the other day and spoke with Pastor Merckle. He showed me around and told me about the name Raine had come up with. Chrysalis…it’s perfect, by the way. By the time I left, I knew exactly what to do.” He paused.
Dec glanced at Raine.
She gazed at Logan through wide green eyes.
“What is it?” she breathed. “Show us.”
Logan grinned at Dec, and then slowly spun the canvas around.
Raine gasped.
Dec had a hard time not doing the same.
Against a blue sky background, a single monarch danced in flight, an inch or so above a leafy branch. Just beneath the butterfly, still clinging to the bark, was an empty cocoon. While the beautiful, newly winged creature clearly dominated the painting, a beam of sunlight lanced through the leaves and shone directly on the chrysalis, making it an important feature of the painting.
“Ohhh!” Raine’s single breathy syllable said more than any number of words could have.
Dec hiked a brow. “I think she likes it.”
Raine’s eyes flashed. “Like it? I’m almost speechless. Logan, it’s stunning! Absolutely perfect.” A single tear overflowed and trickled down her cheek.
Dec reached out and caught it with his thumb.
“I hardly know what to say.” She stood and rounded the table to stand beside the artist. “Thank you.” She tiptoed and kissed his cheek. “This will go above the fireplace in the common room, and it will bless so many young people as they burst free of their old lives and fly into a new one. A better one.” She brushed away another tear. “Just…thank you!”
Logan looked at Dec. “I hope you don’t mind, old friend, but…” He pulled Raine into a gentle hug. “You are most welcome, Raine. Your reaction is more than ample compensation.”
Dec fought a wave of ridiculous jealousy. When Logan released Raine, he pulled her to him and slid a decidedly proprietary arm around her waist. He grinned at the artist. “No problem, Bullard, but just to be clear…that’s the last time you’re allowed to do that.”
Raine blushed and landed a playful blow to his arm. “Dec!”
Logan laughed. “I can’t say I blame the man.”
“Well, ‘the man’ is showing his Neanderthal side,” she quipped.
Miss Angie spoke from the doorway. “Oh my! Logan…is that for the shelter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, it’s…it’s…” She shook her head. “It’s simply heavenly, dear. Just…heavenly.”
Dec grinned.
“That’s exactly the word I was looking for, Miss Angie. Heavenly.” Raine smiled.
“O Lord, how manifold are Your works! In wisdom You have made them all; the earth is full of Your creatures.” Miss Angie touched the edge of the canvas, her blue eyes fixed on the painting. “Only our heavenly Father could inspire something so beautiful. Heavenly, indeed.”
Dec could only nod, as the profound truth of the sweet lady’s remark wrapped itself around his soul. He tucked Raine closer to his side and tugged her chin upward with his thumb so he could look through her tear-dampened eyes and into her heart. Then he smiled, satisfied she felt it too.
Logan had given them far more than a painting for the shelter. He’d brought them a hug from Heaven.
19
Raine sat on the edge of the passenger seat, her startled gaze fixed ahead.
Dec parked the car in the first empty slot he could find.
A crowd of people traipsed back and forth between the shelter and the church fellowship hall, which Pastor had opened up to provide extra table and seating space.
Dressed in a bright, flowing red top and black slacks, Raine had felt armed and ready to face the world when Dec picked her up at the lodge. She’d swept a portion of her hair off her face and fastened it with a bright clip, from which it fell in a thick curtain down her back. She wanted to look nice, but be comfortable too. If this event rendered even half the hoped-for results, she and the others involved in the project would be crazy busy all evening…but Chrysalis would be off to a fantastic start.
The groups of chattering visitors spilling in and out of both buildings left no doubt as to the success of their efforts. The crowd was enormous. If all of these people had come prepared to get involved, there’d be no problem with the shelter opening on the date circled in red on a big calendar in the meeting room.
The auction itself was set up on the large lawn between the two buildings.
Greg strode across the stage, checking the sound equipment with excitement written on his face. He was an amateur auctioneer and had presided at a number of events in Los Angeles, something Raine hadn’t even known. But Shay knew. She’d convinced him—with only a minimum of pressure—to volunteer his time and talents to the event tonight.
Dec reached over and took her hand without looking away from the milling crowd.
Raine shook her head, too awed to speak. Had their work and planning really brought about such a fantastic response?
Personal invitations sent to the upper echelon of Cambria, Cayucos, Morro Bay, and Pismo Beach had rendered a whopping seventy-percent-positive RSVP. Those attendees alone guaranteed a nice crowd, but what she was looking at right now went far beyond her highest expectations.
Dec must have been thinking along the same lines. “What kind of advertisement did you do, besides that huge stack of personal invites?”
“Just ads in the papers. And some flyers.”
“Just ads.” He slanted a glance her way. “What papers?”
She shrugged. “You know…the ones in all the little towns along the Central Coast.”
There’d been no way of calculating what kind of results that effort would garner, but this crowd said it had paid off.
“Well, I guess it’s time to jump into the fray.” Dec waited another few seconds, and then exited the vehicle. Raine didn’t move until he rounded the car and opened her door. He took her hand and helped her out, then placed his other hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready for this?”
“I-I think so.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Dec, I had no idea…”
“I know. I think we’re seeing a confirmation of God’s hand in this project. He’s been in this thing all along, and your willingness to work hard and make things happen—along with all the others, of course—has brought about His stamp of approval. These people are here at His beck and call, even though a great many of them don’t, and probably won’t, realize that.”
She smiled, fighting back stinging tears. They were tears of joy and gratitude, but still…she had to get a handle on her emotions. Especially right now. She couldn’t walk into this night with streaky makeup on her face. And there’d be no opportunity for primping. From the time they stepped foot on the lawn between the two buildings, their time would no longer be their own.
A couple of nights earlier, Pastor Merckle had asked Raine for something she’d found more than a little difficult to promise.
“Remember the night we had our first meeting here at Chrysalis?”
“Of course I do.”
“You shared a beautiful, heart-warming speech with all of us regarding the name God had given you for this place.”
“Um…I did share some things, yes.” Would she like what was coming next?
“Could I convince you to do it again, for our guests at the auction? I think
it would be very impactful.” He grinned. “They are looking for a good reason to give back to their community. So let’s show them what we are trying to accomplish to make this a better place.”
When he put it like that, what could she say? Despite her fear of speaking in public, she reluctantly agreed. Perhaps the crowd wouldn’t be any bigger than what she saw at Cambria House of Praise every Sunday.
Her stomach sank as she made her way through the crush of bodies and into the shelter. At least three times that number of people had responded to the invitations and ads. Could she really get up there and speak without swallowing her tongue…or worse yet, simply passing out cold?
She headed inside for a final check of the merchandise. Each of the donated items required an auction number, which would be located on the box or bag or whatever other form of packaging was involved, along with the name of the merchant or individual who had donated it. Shay and Tara had done a great job taking care of those things as the items came in, but Raine still wanted to do a quick visual. Besides, she needed something to think about besides getting up in front of all of these people to say her piece. Her stomach already threatened to revolt in a not-so-pretty manner.
Miss Angie stuck her head out of the kitchen as Raine passed by. “Raine, dear, can you come in here for a moment?” Without waiting for an answer, the woman ducked back through the doorway, clearly assuming Raine’s cooperation.
Grinning, she detoured into the cooking area, where Miss Angie and several of the ladies from the church worked at preparing trays of finger foods, making pitchers of iced tea, and brewing half a dozen huge pots of coffee.
Miss Angie took her hand and drew her into the meeting room off the kitchen. When they were alone and the door closed behind them, the older woman—every shining white hair in place, and showing not a hint of weariness, although she’d been at the shelter, hard at work, the entire afternoon—pulled her into a warm hug. Then stepping back, she swept a soft fingertip across Raine’s lips.
A tiny spark of something electric buzzed over Raine’s mouth, leaving it with a slight tingle, even faintly numb. Her eyes widened. “Miss Angie, what—?”
“‘She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.’” Just for an instant, incredibly blue eyes shone with a light not of this earth, and then they dimmed into the familiar twinkle with which Raine was so familiar. “Proverbs 31:26. You’ll do just fine, dear. Relax, and let God lead.”
As if it had been turned on via some kind of invisible spout, peace flooded Raine’s soul. Had she really been frightened almost senseless only a moment ago? How could that be, when now she felt energized and eager to get up on that stage and try to make all these people feel what she felt about Chrysalis?
Miss Angie turned to go, but Raine didn’t release her hand. She tugged her close, and then placed a hand on each of the older woman’s soft cheeks and looked deep into her eyes, hoping to see…what? Some secret identity? A hint of something supernatural or beyond humanity? She smiled and shook her head. “Miss Angie, you’re much more than any of us know, aren’t you?”
A beautiful answering smile lit the woman’s sweet face. “I’m just another one of God’s servants. Don’t think me anything special, dear. To our heavenly Father be all the honor and glory, forever and always.”
“Amen.” Raine murmured the appropriate response, but her heart kept its own counsel. She somehow felt certain Miss Angie wasn’t being entirely forthcoming. She was more than just a kind, sweet old lady who managed Paradise Pines for some faceless, nameless owner. Miss Angelina Love had a special connection to Heaven, and nothing would convince Raine otherwise.
Miss Angie hurried off to the kitchen after delivering one more warm hug, and Raine took herself to the back room, where Shay and Tara were stacking boxes according to number.
The first twenty auction items had already been carted outside to a table behind the stage, and the next twenty waited their turn. Cole would wheel them out on a pallet jack and renew the supply when only a couple items remained on the table. Keeping Greg supplied with things to offer for bidding would be an ongoing job throughout the evening.
“Looks as if you two have everything in hand.” Raine peeked over a stack of boxes to address the other girls.
Tara wasn’t even recognizable as the same dirty waif she’d rescued off the street a few weeks ago. The girl’s pale skin had taken on a sun-kissed glow, and her dark blonde hair—pulled into a low ponytail—shone with health and cleanliness. The teen’s dressy jeans, sandals, and pale yellow top were a perfect choice.
Shay, on the other hand, was a vision of fairy-like beauty. Her ankle-length sheath shimmered with tones of jade, blue, and teal. The hem and neckline sported several rows of sequins that might have disappeared into the fabric if not for the glimmer of light that made them sparkle and shine. A teal necklace and matching earrings, along with sandals of the same color, completed her outfit. She looked decidedly bohemian, and utterly beautiful.
If Greg wasn’t already swept off his feet, tonight should do the trick.
“You both look so pretty.” Raine smiled at her friends, grateful for their help and interest in the outreach project.
“Thank you.” Tara offered a shy grin. She was starting to behave more like a carefree teen than a jaded outcast. “So do you.”
Shay jumped up and rushed around the boxes to give Raine a squeeze. “You look stunning, girlfriend! Red makes you look quite…regal. Like a queen.”
“Thank you—both of you.” She glanced at the schoolhouse clock on the wall—one of twenty they’d received as direct donations to the shelter. “Shay, have you forgotten the time? Greg’ll be needing you outside. In fact”—She cocked her head—“I hear Pastor getting things started right now.”
“Oh my! I’d better get moving.” Shay grabbed a notebook and pen off one of the bedside tables. “We don’t want any of those items going with the wrong bidder, now do we?”
Raine laughed, winked at Tara, and headed outdoors with her friend. She’d hurried Shay out to her post, but the fact was Pastor Merckle had said he wanted Raine to share her story before Greg took over the microphone. She’d barely rounded the corner onto the lawn when the pastor began to speak.
He motioned her up onto the stage as he made the introduction. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to present to you the young lady who has been most instrumental in bringing this outreach together. She’s a visitor to Cambria—a native of Pasadena—but she’s redefined the word vacation. Raine Presley brought us our first two young guests, and she’s volunteered countless hours working right alongside everyone else—washing walls and scrubbing floors, assembling furniture, making beds…whatever the need, nothing has proven too menial or too lowly, too big or small for this woman to undertake.” He reached out for Raine’s hand and helped her onto the stage.
“She’s also responsible for naming our fledgling outreach facility. You’ve all seen the name on your invitations and in the media releases. Did you wonder why we called the place Chrysalis? Well, there is a reason, and no one can explain it quite like this lovely woman. Ladies and gentleman, I present to you…Raine Presley.” A booming round of applause filled the air as Pastor Merckle stepped off the stage.
Raine took the microphone in hand. She searched the crowd until she found Dec, standing just below her.
He winked and gave her a thumbs-up.
Raine smiled into his eyes, and then lifted her gaze to the milling crowd spread across the lawn and peering out the open doorways of both buildings. The peace she’d found after Miss Angie’s little visit remained strong within her. “I’m afraid Pastor has given me far more credit than I deserve. I don’t think I’ve contributed any more than all of the other folks who worked hard to make Chrysalis a reality. But I have to admit, God has given me a heart for this project…for teenagers who need a hand up and a way out of the downward spiral their lives may become. I believe they can find those things, and more, righ
t here at Chrysalis.”
She plunged into the heart of her speech. “Pastor asked me to explain the reason behind the name over our doorway. Why Chrysalis? I’m sure you all have at least some idea what it means. It’s not exactly a foreign word, or even an obscure one. But neither is it a word you hear every day. So, just for the sake of clarity, let me explain very briefly what a chrysalis is, and why we chose it as the official name for this outreach.”
She launched into the explanation she’d given the board on that first evening. But this time, Raine didn’t worry about speaking in front of a crowd. She didn’t struggle with shyness or experience even a twinge of nerves. She simply shared her heart.
These people were clearly interested…otherwise, why would they be here? They wanted to hear what she had to say. She, in turn, longed to impress upon them the importance of this undertaking. That meant she had something in common with the people who stood on the lawn and stared up at her with wide, expectant eyes.
“That’s what a chrysalis is,” she concluded. “And that’s what we are, here at the shelter. A place for these lost kids to be found. A cocoon where they can ‘become’ what they’re intended to be. A shelter from whatever drove them to be without home and family. A launching ground where they can discover what paths they want to take in life, where they’ll learn to set goals and work toward making them realities. This is their place of metamorphosis. Their new beginning.” She paused and allowed her gaze to roam across the crowd. “Their chrysalis.”
A few people wiped at tears. Others gazed thoughtfully off into the distance.
Raine met their uplifted gazes, gave them nods of encouragement, and returned their smiles. “Thank you, all of you, for helping us give them wings.”
The applause was loud and long.
Raine walked off the stage and into Dec’s open arms.
He hugged her close and whispered into her ear. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you!”
She snuggled against his chest for a moment, loving the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.