My uncles! she reminded herself for about the hundredth time. The remainder of her anger dissipated, and she felt something akin to a fierce protectiveness grip her. Sean spoke to the O’Dell brothers, who rose and, after some close conversation, followed him.
Kari got a very bad feeling when Søren and Alannah both looked up to where she was sitting and started her way. Their faces were solemn.
They entered the kitchen and then the back porch, and Søren reached his hand toward her. “Kari.”
She let him lift her to her feet and spoke to him for the first time that day. “Who are those people? Who is that creepy little man?”
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
Alannah looked at Kari, her expression carefully blank. “He wants to talk to us. To you.”
“No, thank you. I don’t think so.” Kari removed her hand from Søren’s. “I don’t know him. Whatever it is, you deal with it. I’ve had enough unwelcome surprises.”
Søren pressed his lips together and Kari could tell he was reluctant to push her. “I understand why you are . . . angry, Kari, but . . . I think what this man has to say is important. And what he needs to say, he needs to say to you.”
“To me?”
“Yes.”
Alannah nodded her agreement.
Kari sighed.
When Kari entered the living room with Søren and Alannah, she was relieved to see that the man’s bodyguards were not present. Then she noticed their shadows through the window curtains where they had remained on guard outside. Her uncles and Ilsa and Quan were waiting for her, though.
The man who had arrived in the limo stood up as she entered. She turned her attention to him, able then to see his features clearly.
Why, he’s Chinese, she realized. And he did not leave all his scary men outside. One of the bodyguards stood post behind the man’s shoulder.
“Ms. Hillyer?” The man’s enunciation was perfect, cultured—the obvious product of pricey schools, perhaps even European ones.
Before anything else could happen, the front door opened. An-Shing entered with Shan-Rose leaning on his arm. Mixxie slipped in behind them. No one spoke as An-Shing took the time necessary to seat Shan-Rose and make her comfortable. Kari noticed how pale Shan-Rose appeared.
“Ms. Hillyer?” The man asked again.
“Uncle Quan?” Unconsciously, Kari edged toward Quan.
Quan’s expression was impassive, guarded perhaps. “Kari, may I present Mr. Wei Tao . . . Chen.”
“Chen?” Kari’s eyes skidded back to the man’s face. “Chen? Are you . . .” Her question trailed off.
“Yes.” He nodded to her. “I am Wei Tao Chen, the grandson of Wei Lin Chen.”
Mixxie uttered a low gasp, and Kari swung around to make sure Shan-Rose was all right. Shan-Rose, although seated, was leaning on An-Shing. She appeared dazed.
“I have her, Kari,” An-Shing assured her.
Kari swung back. “Why are you here, Mr. Chen?”
He nodded again and smiled, but Kari doubted the smile’s sincerity. The hair on the back of her neck was prickling.
“My family has long had . . . a connection, both personal and business, with the Li family of Seattle. The Li family has never, shall we say, allowed us to forget our family’s role in the, uh, unfortunate events of the past. I speak of the abduction of the infant, Edmund Michaels and, uh, other things.”
“Twist your tail, do they?” Kari sneered. She didn’t understand why she seethed with anger, but she did, and she did not much care if she let it show.
Chen examined her, his eyes narrowing. “Yes, that is a colorful description of our relationship. The Lis have made a point of never allowing us Chens to forget our family’s role in those, er, events.”
He smiled again, that expression not reaching his eyes. “Only the day before yesterday a Li family representative informed us that the daughter of Edmund Michaels had, at long last, been found.”
Kari didn’t answer him. She thought he was making an attempt to be pleasant, but her newly embittered heart had only disdain for the Chens.
Kari saw that he noticed. How could he not?
The smile faded from Chen’s face at her insult, replaced by a hardness around his mouth. His eyes glittered as he studied Kari.
“I would very much request the privilege of speaking with you on my family’s behalf. Perhaps we could be seated?” His polite words did not mask his condescension.
Kari shrugged and looked at Quan, who nodded. “Very well,” Kari answered. She took the seat Quan offered her.
When they were seated, Chen said, “Ms. Hillyer, I am the emissary of my family. As I said earlier, the Chen family has been connected with the Li family for many years, by friendship and by business. However, the relationship between our families has, for many decades now, been strained . . . by past deeds.”
“You are the emissary of the Chen family,” Kari repeated.
“Yes.”
Kari saw speculative expressions around the room but she ignored them. “If I understand correctly, it was your family who arranged the abduction of Edmund Michaels. My father.” No one could mistake the slur in her tone.
Wei Tao Chen inclined his head, his eyes glittering again. “Yes. That is so. When the Li family learned that the daughter of Edmund Michaels had returned to Denver, word spread quickly. That is why I was dispatched and am here.”
He smiled, that same false smile Kari already disliked. “The Li family immediately challenged the Chen family to make right the wrong that was committed against the Michaels. I was dispatched yesterday to bring a message to you.”
Kari kept staring at him, and he at her. It was obvious to Kari that while Chen was tasked with this duty, he considered it beneath him: It was, in essence, an unpleasant obligation.
He made a small gesture with his hand. “As the emissary of my family, I have been sent to express our sincere apologies for the actions of one individual, a Fang-Hua Chen, who was the first wife of my grandfather, Wei Lin Chen.” He spoke her name with distaste.
“We are related then,” a weary voice floated from across the room.
Wei Tao glanced up, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”
Shan-Rose lifted her hand and Chen focused on her. “My name is Shan-Rose Liáng. My mother was Mei-Xing Li.”
Wei Tao paled a little. “So. Su-Chong Chen was your father?”
“His blood flows in my veins but he was never my father,” Shan-Rose corrected gently. “Yaochuan Min Liáng was my father.”
“Yes; I take your point.” Chen swallowed. “Then as you said, we are related. Half second cousins. My father is from Wei Lin Chen’s second marriage. And you . . . you were the child Fang-Hua intended to abduct rather than Edmund Michaels.”
He pondered those facts a moment longer, sober in his thoughts. “I am sorry. I beg your indulgence for my distraction. My task is quite simple, really.”
With a sigh he firmed his mouth to complete the distasteful duty. He stood and took a small lacquered box from the man standing beside his chair. He approached Kari, stopping several feet from her. He bowed deeply.
“Ms. Hillyer, as the emissary of my family and before you and before these witnesses, I formally beg your forgiveness for the gross misconduct of Fang-Hua Chen. Her actions were and remain a disgrace to our family, even these many years later.
“My father, Wei Long Chen, and the entire Chen family apologize for her behavior. We cannot make up for the grave injustice done to your father and to you. However, we send a gift, and humbly implore that you accept it as a token of our very great regret.”
Still bowing, he extended the box to Kari. Kari didn’t know what to do. The bitterness simmering in her heart toward Dean Morgan seemed ample to cover the Chens, too. The moment dragged on and Kari did not move to accept the box from Chen.
At the last possible second, Quan stepped forward and took it. “Mr. Chen, the family of Joy Thoresen Michaels and
Mei-Xing Li accept your apology and this gift. Thank you for coming all this way to right this wrong.”
Chen bowed again. “We, my family and I, thank you.” He glanced again at Kari and his eyes shied away from the hard reception they found there.
“I must also say . . .” he walked to where Shan-Rose was seated, “our family has watched you from afar, Miss Liáng, for many years. We know of your selfless life.”
He stumbled a little in his speech. “We had seen and marked your mother’s work with, er, fallen women . . . and your work also, following in her footsteps.”
He added, “I will take this opportunity to extend our family’s—your family’s—apology to you for your mother’s sake. We did her great, great wrong and yet . . . she lived a remarkable life of service to others. She . . . and you . . . have won our respect and honor.”
For all this man’s previous arrogance, Kari heard sincerity in his apology and thought she detected a tiny crack in his voice as he bowed low before Shan-Rose and remained bent over, his face toward the floor.
Shan-Rose, leaning heavily on An-Shing, struggled to her feet. Mixxie held one arm steady while An-Shing held the other.
Kari watched Shan-Rose gently place her tiny, faded hand on Chen’s head. “Young man, I accept your apology. More than that, I willingly, joyfully forgive you from my heart in the name of my Savior Jesus.”
Kari’s gut twisted. How can she forgive him that easily? For all the years of grief and pain suffered by so many? In her mind’s eye Kari was recounting the many crimes Fang-Hua and Su-Chong Chen had committed against Mei-Xing and how she had suffered at the hands of the Chen family.
And yet . . . Shan-Rose, who knew every sordid detail of her mother’s suffering, freely forgave the young, arrogant man before her? No recrimination? No demand for justice? Only forgiveness, freely offered?
She saw the look on Mixxie’s face. It was probably the same look that was on her own: revulsion and disbelief. And then Mixxie turned toward Kari, a question in her jaded expression.
A challenge.
Discomfited, Kari frowned and looked away. What does she expect from me? Just to forget all the evil this family has caused? Just like that?
Kari glanced again at Shan-Rose, so frail but serene. At peace.
Kari stared at the carpet, wondering at Shan-Rose’s compassion. Questioning her own bitterness, so newly spawned.
If Shan-Rose freely forgives this man and his family, should I hold resentment against him and them? she wondered. If she shows him grace, what gives me the right to . . . hate him? And how can I hold a grievance toward Dean Morgan, a man long dead, a man who threw himself on the mercy of God . . . in just the same way I did?
A small, choked sound jerked their attention back to Shan-Rose and Wei Tao Chen. Shan-Rose was bent over Wei Tao Chen, caressing his face, whispering to him. Wei Tao trembled under Shan-Rose’s touch but remained bowed, his face toward the floor.
“Dear, dear boy, I pardon you and set you free from your burden of shame. Please know that because Jesus has forgiven me, I now forgive you. I declare this offense paid for in full by the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. I beg you to surrender your life to Jesus and allow him to cleanse your soul. And I send you away to your family with our peace and blessing.”
Kari’s lips parted as she sensed the power of God on Shan-Rose. Wei Tao’s trembling increased. “I-I thank you, great and honorable Auntie; from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. I-I will go home . . . and seek this Jesus as you say.”
“But there is no need to wait, dear one. He is here . . . right here, right now.”
And then Kari saw tears—large spatters of tears—fall from Chen’s downturned face to the floor. A sob escaped him—the sound of a rending heart—and Kari felt the walls of bitterness she had erected begin to crumble.
O God! O God! What have I done! Kari cried in her heart. The crushing revelation of her own sin swept over her.
She gasped and clutched her stomach with both hands. Sinking to her knees, she cried out, “O Lord, I am so sorry! Please forgive my hard, bitter heart! Please have mercy on me and on this man, O God!”
The redeeming power of the Holy Spirit rained down in the room—like fine mist it enveloped and washed over them. Søren dropped to his knees near Kari, praying aloud. Others did the same.
Kari was caught in her own intimate encounter with her God, forgiving Dean Morgan and the Chens, extending to them the same grace God was pouring on her.
She did not see Wei Tao collapse to his knees or Shan-Rose and An-Shing praying with him. She did not see Quan and Matthew approach Wei Tao’s bodyguard and, kneeling with him, pray over him. She did not see Mixxie slide from her chair to the floor in broken disbelief and Alannah reach her hand out to grasp hers.
Kari saw nothing—nothing except her own flaws in comparison to the perfect, righteous face of God. With his face before her, she confessed her sins aloud:
“Lord, I freely forgive Peter Granger, this same Dean Morgan who stole my father. I forgive him and all he did, Lord,” she groaned, “for now I see how much of a sinner in need of forgiveness I am! I set aside my anger and hate, Lord God! I lay them down and I forgive Peter Granger.
“I forgive Fang-Hua and her family. I forgive them all and I release them, Lord. I let them go.
“In Jesus’ name, I let them go.”
~~**~~
Chapter 26
It was hours later. The Chens were gone and the family had dispersed. Cleanup and afternoon chores were done. As the sun sank in the west, Kari and Søren sat alone on the screened-in back porch. They sat cross-legged on the cushioned bench facing each other.
Kari was still teary. “I can’t believe how ugly my heart became when I allowed unforgiveness in,” she confided to Søren, wiping her eyes. “At the drop of a hat. So easily! And after all The Lord has done for me!”
Søren nodded, understanding. “The enemy of our souls is very crafty, Kari. Offense and unforgiveness are his primary tricks. His goal is to divide us from The Lord and from other Christians. You aren’t the first to have been snared in this way.”
“It seems like I have so much to learn,” she murmured.
“You do, but you will grow if you press in to The Lord. The Bible tells us to ‘guard our hearts above all things.’ That’s your lesson for today. In the meantime . . . you are here, with your family who loves you . . .”
He went silent then, thinking. “What will you do now? Now that you know who you really are, Kari?”
“I-I’m not sure yet.”
“You said you had inherited a house in New Orleans?”
“Peter Granger’s house. Dean Morgan’s house! I don’t know if I’ll ever be comfortable living there, now that I know the truth.”
“It’s just a house, Kari. And your dad did grow up there.”
“Yes.” She fidgeted a little. “But I’ve been thinking that I might . . . build another house.”
“Oh? Just like that? ‘Build another house.’”
“Um, well . . .”
“Well, what?” He leaned back and sought out her eyes. “What are you not telling me, Kari?”
“Well, I might have just bought some land . . . near here, er, the other day. Um, when I borrowed your car to take a check to Jeff for fixing my Caddy.”
His brows arched. “Just up and bought some land. Near here. Do tell!”
She started to smile. “How about I show, instead?” She grasped his sleeve and tugged. “Come with me.”
As she led him out the back door and down the steps, Max ran out from the barn. “Where are you going? Can I come with you?”
Kari ruffled his strawberry blonde hair. “As far as I’m concerned, you can come with me anytime.” Max grinned and grabbed her hand.
Kari led Max and Søren out into the pasture, past the barn. She faced the glorious reds and purples where the sun was disappearing in the western sky and stared across the pastures, across the creek, to the little, falli
ng-down house shadowed in the hollow of the bluff that rose behind it.
“I asked your realtor not to tell you,” she whispered. “I told her that I wanted to do it.”
“My realtor? Not tell me what?” Søren frowned. “What are you saying?”
She turned toward him, the last of the dropping sun behind her catching the gold in her brown hair and setting it afire. “Søren, I bought Rose’s land. I bought my great-grandmother’s homestead. So, it will stay in the family.”
“You. Bought it.”
She nodded, her smile growing. “Cash on the barrelhead. No dickering. Asking price.” She put her head to one side. “You Thoresens really drive a hard bargain.”
Max’s mouth hung open and he frowned, not understanding the adult conversation flowing back and forth over his head. His father ran his hand across his neck and over his head, standing his close-cropped blonde-and-red hair on end.
“You bought Rose’s land. You have that kind of money?” Søren squinted as he half-asked, half-demanded.
A chuckle rippled low in her throat. Grinning now, she tossed her head. “Oh, yes; I do. And I think I’ll build a little house for myself on Rose’s land, my own, my very own home, and live over there a while.”
“You’ll live there.”
“Not all the time. Maybe part of the year. Summers possibly—summers in New Orleans are just miserable, you know.”
Her smile was a little sad. “I have a life and a lot of responsibility waiting for me back in NOLA. I can’t ignore it and pretend it will go away. The learning curve will be steep but I have to stop running from it and start becoming the woman God felt could handle all of . . . well, all that is waiting for me there.”
Max gripped her hand tighter. “But I don’t want you to go, Kari.”
She pressed the boy to her side. “I promise I’ll be back. You are my family—my real, honest-to-goodness family. How could I ever stay away?”
Kari stared up at Søren, including him in what she said next. “So. So when I build my little summer house and come to stay in it over there, I’ll look over here, the way Rose used to before she and Jan married. I’ll pray and study the Bible and grow. And I’ll let The Lord do whatever it is he’s going to do.”
Lost Are Found (A Prairie Heritage, Book 6) Page 32