Lambert's Peace

by Rachel Hauck

  Claire poked her pretty face from behind the magazine. “Are you kidding me?” She tossed the magazine onto Taylor’s desk. “This is all designer stuff, isn’t it?”

  Taylor anchored her hands on her hips. “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Claire picked up a cashmere sweater. Her mouth dropped open when she looked at the label. “My friends are going to die.”

  “Well, just don’t rub their noses in it.” Taylor picked a pair of slacks from the California pile and put them in her suitcase.

  “Did I tell you Dad agreed to pay for half of my plane ticket when I visit you over Christmas break?”

  Tears burned in Taylor’s eyes. “Great. I can’t wait. We’ll go shopping, and you can help me replenish my wardrobe.”

  “You won’t have to work too much will you?” Claire asked, reaching for a dark wool suit.

  Taylor sighed. “Probably. But we’ll have some part of the evening and weekends.”

  The teenager shrugged. “Would you mind if Chelle came with me?”

  Taylor shook her head. “The more the merrier.”

  Leaving the family so close to Christmas tore at her. For the first time in years, she’d hoped to spend the Christmas season with the family, not dashing down from the city late on Christmas Eve only to leave Christmas Day after dinner.

  White Birch Community Church had a Christmas play this year, and Pastor Marlow would play Joseph. Taylor so wanted to see it.

  She’d imagined staying up late after the Christmas Eve service to watch Christmas movies and drink hot chocolate with Mom.

  She wanted to wake up Christmas morning and listen to her father read about the birth of Jesus from Luke’s Gospel. She wanted to help Mom and Dana cook a turkey dinner and learn, finally, how to make homemade rolls.

  “I’m trying this on,” Claire said, dashing from the room with a red dress in her hands. “It’s perfect for Christmas Eve.”

  Taylor answered without looking up. “Okay.” She sat down on her bed, a silk blouse in her hands. Missing Christmas. It’s the price she paid.

  Boswell needed her, and she had a feeling Computing Today’s article hitting the newsstands the same day she started her job was not coincidental.

  It bolstered her confidence to know Boswell invested so much in her—from her salary right down to a news article.

  “Besides,” she said, getting up to resume packing, thoughts of Will flickering across her mind. “Other than family, there’s no reason for me to stay in White Birch. None. The first day of the rest of my life begins with Boswell Global.”

  From his chair, Grandpa watched Will pace. “You’ve talked to Grant, I assume.”

  Pensively, Will said, “Today. After I picked up the ring.”

  “And?”

  Will faced his grandfather. “He said it was between me and Taylor, and if I could get a yes out of her, he’d be amazed. But I have his blessing and prayers.”

  Grandpa grinned. “He’s got a point.”

  “I don’t care. I let her get away before; if I don’t ask her to marry me now, I may never get another chance.”

  Grandpa looked proud. “Good. You don’t want to go through life wondering.”

  “Not about this. Not about Taylor. She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is. Tell me, what are you going to say to her?”

  Will stopped and raised his hand to lean on the mantel. “I don’t know. Give her the ring—ask her to marry me.” He held out his hands in question.

  Grandpa cocked a brow. “That’s it?”

  Will pondered a minute, his chin raised. “Yeah, that’s it.”

  Grandpa rose to his feet, chuckling. “Now look, son, I’m not a great romantic, but I’ve learned over the years that women like the flowery words.”

  Will slapped his hand to his forehead. “Flowers. Should I get flowers?”

  Grandpa laughed outright. “No, no, I said flowery words. Tell her how you feel. Tell her what’s in your heart.”

  “She knows how I feel.”

  Grandpa shook his head. “Don’t tell me you need me to be your Cyrano de Bergerac.”

  Will furrowed his brow. “No, I don’t need you to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.”

  “Let me remind you that the beautiful, intelligent Taylor Jo Hanson is not waiting for you to come calling. If you want her to say yes, you’re going to have to bare your soul. Lay it on the line.”

  Will clenched and released his fists, still pacing. “You’re right.” He looked at Grandpa. “I know what I want. I know how I feel, but saying it in a way to win, Taylor … I’m going to need the help of angels.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. I happen to know our Father in heaven commands the angels. Let’s pray and ask Him for a little assistance.”

  “Thanks, Grandpa.”

  Around nine, Claire gathered up the clothes Taylor had given her and went downstairs to watch a Christmas special with Mom. Taylor promised to join them in a minute.

  She was leafing through a stack of financial periodicals when a familiar, strong voice spoke to her from the door.

  “Is someone in this room moving to California?”

  She whipped around, her hand jerking to her hair and her heart beating like a runner taking off at the sound of the gun.

  “Will.” I’m a mess. “W–what are you doing here?”

  “Came by to see my friend.”

  Her cheeks flushed when he winked at her.

  “Sorry I’m such a—I mean—the room is such a mess.”

  His gaze never left her face. “The room is beautiful.”

  He held out his hand. “Come on.”

  She slipped her hand into his. Downstairs, the family sat way too quietly in the family room. Taylor wondered what was going on as she put on her boots and coat.

  “I’m going out with Will for a while,” she called.

  “Okay,” they answered in unison.

  She made a face at Will. “That’s odd. Usually when they’re watching a movie the house could practically burn down around them and they’d never know it.”

  Will opened the front door. “Who knows? It’s Christmas.”

  Outside, the night was cold and clear. Taylor bumped Will. “What, no horse and sleigh?”

  He smiled and bumped her back. “No, just you and me.”

  His tone sent a tingle down to her toes. When he slipped his gloved hand into hers, she wrapped her fingers around his and suddenly wanted the moment to never end.

  Our last night together, she thought. Out of nowhere, her heart was overwhelmed with love for him. She tightened her jaw and pressed her lips together to keep the tears at bay.

  Tomorrow night was the family Christmas dinner—weeks before the actual day—but it was their only chance to celebrate. Sunday she planned to visit New York City to say good-bye to Reneé and several of her girlfriends. Monday, she began the journey of her life.

  But for now, she decided to live in the moment. “White Birch is beautiful this time of year. All the lights and decorations …”

  “It is,” Will said.

  They walked several blocks toward the town square where a giant Christmas tree, much like the one in New York’s Rockefeller Center, twinkled in the night.

  “I watched Markie run a complete trial data conversion today. It went really well. We also reviewed the installation checklist.”

  He let go of her hand to put his arm around her. “Thank you. But let’s not talk about business systems right now.”

  He made her nervous.

  Suddenly Taylor heard music and found Will leading her down a path lined with dozens of glowing sand bags. “Will, what are you up to?”

  Will stopped at the tall, thick Christmas tree, his pulse thundering so loudly he wondered if he’d be able to hear himself propose.

  He envied ninety percent of the other men in the world who popped the question to women willing to say yes.

  No guts, no glory, he thought. For the first time
, he understood the depth of Taylor’s devastation when she leapt out on the wings of faith and asked him to marry her.

  Now the tables were turned.

  “Let’s have a seat.” He led Taylor to the back of his truck where a thermos of hot chocolate and a pile of blankets awaited them. He opened the tailgate and helped her up.

  “Did you do all this?” she murmured.

  “Yes, it’s your going away present.” He felt cautious, afraid to reveal his hand too soon. He propped himself against the side of the truck and swept Taylor into his arms.

  “You’re scaring me,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  Will kissed her hair then rested his chin on the top of her head.

  Her body stiffened. “Will, I’m leaving in three days.”

  He nuzzled the back of her neck. “You smell good.”

  “Will—” She scooted around to face him. “Please.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Taylor.” He kissed her lightly, tenderly.

  When he released her, words flew out of her mouth. “Why, Will, why? Why now? Why not ten years ago? What do you want me to do with this information? Not go to California because you love me?”

  “No.” He resituated himself so he could retrieve the ring box from his pocket. “I don’t want you to go to California because I can’t live without you.”

  “You seem to have survived until now.”

  He pressed his finger over her lips. “Can I finish?”

  She sucked in her bottom lip and nodded.

  “You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.” He looked into her green eyes. “You inspire me. You make me want to live my life better; achieve all I can achieve. Love the Lord more; love others more. I let you go ten years ago, but I can’t let you leave without telling you how I feel now.”

  “I know how you feel.” Her words landed hard, like bricks being added to a wall.

  He laughed softly, the tension between them rising. “I’ve been praying all day about what I want to say to you.”

  “And?”

  “I have peace. No words, just peace.”

  She leaned against the side of the truck and regarded him. “That’s what I love most about you. The peace you exude. Not just any peace, but the peace of Jesus. I’m always so anxious.”

  “We’d make a good pair then.”

  She snarled. “Ten years ago, maybe.”

  “Taylor, I wouldn’t have been a good husband ten years ago.”

  She adjusted the blanket around her legs. “Maybe I wouldn’t have made a good wife.”

  He reached for her hand. “We loved each other. But I had grad school on my mind and wanted life to selfishly revolve around me.”

  “I wanted to move to New York and have a big-city career.” She looked at him as a light, chilly breeze brushed through her hair. “But I like to think I would have given it up for you. I really loved you, Will.”

  “You would have resented me.”

  “Maybe.” She shivered in the cold and fell against him.

  “How about right now?” He wrapped her in his arms.

  “What do you mean?”

  He dug the ring box out of his pocket. “Would you give up California for love? For me?” He could feel her tremble. “Taylor, if you go to California, fine. But go knowing I’m yours and you are mine.” He opened the box, and the ring sparkled in the glow of the candles and Christmas lights.

  She gasped and covered her face with her hands.

  “Taylor, marry me.”

  twenty-four

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Will asking her to marry him with candles and music on their last night together.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Will took the ring from the box. “Does it look like I’m kidding?”

  Her hand shook as she reached for the ring. “It’s beautiful.”

  But she pulled her hand back. If she touched the jeweled piece, if she let him slide it on her finger, she’d never move to California. Never.

  “Taylor?” Will turned her face to his.

  She jumped off the tailgate. “What are you doing, Will? I can’t marry you.” With long strides, she started down the sidewalk. She stopped and whipped around. “Marry you? I’m moving in three days, Will. Computing Today is doing a story on me and my new job. It comes out the day I start!”

  He walked toward her. “You’re going to base a major life decision on a magazine article?”

  “No, Will, I’m making a major life decision based on years of hard work. Am I supposed to say no to a tremendous job opportunity because Will Adams finally got his act together and asked me to marry him?” She stepped his way, hating her words but unable to cap her anger. “Ten years too late.“

  Will grabbed her arms. “No, I’m asking you to say yes to the greatest love of your life. You may think it’s ten years too late, Taylor, but our time is now.”

  She jerked herself free. “No, Will. No.”

  On the west side of Kansas, weary and hungry, Taylor pulled into a small diner around seven o’clock. A light snow fell as she stepped out of the car, an empty soda cup and fast-food bag wadded up in her hands. She stretched, taking a deep breath, cleansing away the fog in her mind.

  She felt dull and lifeless, and dazed from the endless stretch of prairie highway. The cold evening air refreshed her, but the gentle snow reminded her of home. Of Will.

  She’d cried for two days after leaving Will standing alone in the flickering lights of the White Birch Christmas tree.

  Her visit with Reneé in New York centered around sobs and tissues, and ping-pong dialogue about Will’s last ditch proposal.

  “Sounds incredibly romantic, Taylor, but you can’t pass on Boswell because Will’s trying to get what he can’t have,” Reneé had concluded over a large slice of New York–style pizza.

  Taylor shook her head. “He’s not like that. If he didn’t mean it, he wouldn’t have asked.” Then the tears had surfaced again, and Reneé handed her another tissue. “But I made a commitment to Boswell Global.”

  On the roof of the Kansas diner, a red-nosed, blinking Rudolph reminded her she’d be spending Christmas away from home. Mom and Dad agreed to come for New Year’s, right after Claire and Chelle’s visit. Taylor tossed her trash in the garbage can and stepped inside the diner. It was cozy and quaint, and she was the only customer.

  A slender, gray-haired woman behind the counter greeted her. “Be right with ya, hon.”

  Taylor reached for a menu, her mind numb, her thoughts wandering. For the first day and a half of her journey west, she’d cried. Tears of anger—tears of heartbreak.

  She’d waited ten years to hear those words from Will. She’d waited ten years to get an offer like the one from Boswell Global. “Oh, Father, I need wisdom.”

  “What’ll it be?” the woman asked, her order pad in her hand. Her name tag read LANA.

  “Diet soda and a large garden salad.”

  “Would you like grilled chicken or steak on the salad?”

  Taylor thought for a moment. “Grilled chicken.”

  “You okay, honey?” Lana asked.

  Taylor glanced up into a warm, friendly face. “Tired.”

  “Long journey.”

  Taylor winced at the irony. “Yes, very long.”

  By the time Lana brought her dinner, snow fell in big, round flakes.

  “Snow’s coming down pretty hard,” Lana said.

  Taylor smiled with a nod and picked up her knife and fork. “I’d better hurry.”

  “There’s a motel about a mile down the road. You should stop there for the night.” Lana crossed her arms and leaned against the booth.

  “Thank you.” Taylor wondered why Lana hung around. She was hungry and wanted to eat, but not with an audience.

  “Hard decision, wasn’t it?”

  Taylor had just cut into her chicken. “Excuse me?”

  “Hard decision—to leave love for a job.”

  Tay
lor felt the blood drain from her face. “How do you know that?”

  Lana smiled as she slipped her hands into the side pockets of her uniform skirt. “The Lord spoke to me as you came in the door.”

  Tears burned in Taylor’s eyes. “Who are you?”

  Lana tugged on her name tag. “Lana Carr. My husband, Ralph, and I own this place. Been here thirty-two years.”

  “How do you know about my decision?”

  Lana motioned to the bench across from Taylor. “May I?”

  “Please.” She offered her hand. “My name’s Taylor.”

  Lana slipped into the booth. “Pleased to meet you.” She shook Taylor’s hand then turned and hollered across the empty dining room. “Ralph, bring me a coffee, please.”

  “All righty.” The answer came from somewhere in the kitchen along with the clanging of pots.

  “How do you know about my decision?” Taylor asked again.

  Lana smiled. “I’m just a friend of Jesus, same as you.”

  Taylor sat back. A friend of Jesus? The notion warmed her all over. “He told you about me?” She reached for her fork and speared a slice of chicken and tomato.

  Lana rested her arms on the table. “This is our slow time of night. I pray when we hit these lulls, and I simply felt the Lord speaking to me about a woman who’s torn between love and her career. I started interceding; then you walked in.”

  “You knew I was the one.”

  “I did.”

  Ralph came to the table with Lana’s coffee. “This the young lady you’ve been praying for?”

  “Yes. Taylor, this is my husband, Ralph.”

  Taylor reached up and shook his hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same here,” Ralph said then excused himself.

  “Why did the Lord tell you about me?” Taylor asked, shoving the food around on her plate, her appetite waning.

  “I wondered that myself,” Lana said, holding her coffee cup and cooling the coffee with a quick puff. Taylor sipped her diet soda, studying Lana. She felt comfortable and at home with the genteel woman. She let the words flow from her heart.

  “I am so torn. The job in California is an incredible opportunity. But Will Adams is an incredible man and probably the love of my life.”