by Beth K. Vogt
She shuffled through the photos and then skimmed over the report. Shelton was right—the tree was mostly dead. She slipped the report back into the folder and went through the photos one more time. Stopped. What was that?
When she closed the folder, she left one photograph on top. “You’re correct—there is a problem.”
Shelton’s thin-lipped smile spread across his face. “I’m glad you’re finally agreeing with me—”
“Oh, I’m not agreeing with you.” She held up the photograph. “I’m talking about this problem.”
“It’s a photograph of your tree—”
“A rather blurry photo, wouldn’t you agree? Look closer. You also managed to photograph me, in the privacy of my home. And that is most definitely a problem. A legal one for you, as I’ll be contacting the authorities about this.”
“This is absurd!” Shelton grabbed for the photograph, but Haley held it behind her back.
“We are no longer discussing the tree. We are now talking about invasion of privacy.”
She left him standing on the front porch, sputtering, the click of the door closing as satisfying as the bell at the end of a boxing match. And the winner is . . . Haley Ames!
But even as she relished putting Shelton in his place, the victory felt incomplete. She wanted to call Stephen—to share the whole story with him. Hear him laugh. Hear him say he was on his way down to see her and Kit and they’d celebrate with a not-out-of-a-box-or-can meal.
There’d been nothing but silence since Sam’s memorial service—and she had to accept that might not change.
Later that night, Haley curled up in her bed, waiting for sleep. As the minutes turned to hours, she stared into the darkness and into her future. She’d manage life on her own. No depending on Stephen—or anyone else—to come to her rescue.
“After all, God, isn’t that the way you made me?” she whispered. “Strong? Independent? Able to take care of myself—and Kit? I can do this. I will do this. And I won’t complain. You gave me Sam . . . and I have Kit because of our marriage. And because of Sam, I met Stephen . . .”
And for all his similarities to Sam, he was so very different. Stephen knew how to stop. To rest.
But she wouldn’t be selfish. She wouldn’t ask for more.
She couldn’t ask for more.
And why not? Am I not the God of more?
Wonderful. Now she was hearing voices. God’s voice, to be exact. She’d expect something like this to happen when she was sick—running a high fever, like the time Stephen came to her rescue.
This has nothing to do with a fever . . . and everything to do with the Truth—the Truth of who you are.
Haley lay in the bed, almost afraid to breathe. She didn’t “do” God this way. She didn’t . . .
I’m past all your boundaries, Haley. Stop limiting me. Stop limiting yourself.
“How am I doing that? You’re God. I can’t limit you.”
Oh, yes, you can. Making decisions without me. Letting other people—like your brothers—determine who you are.
“You know, God, my life’s been pretty hard lately. I lost Sam. And I’m a single mom. And while we’re talking, I think I’m in love with my husband’s brother.”
I know.
“Of course you would. I’m sorry about that.”
There’s no need to apologize. Stop taking responsibility for everything . . .
“I am responsible for everything. There’s no one else but me.”
Haley, can we get one thing straight here tonight?
“What?”
I’m God—and you are not. I know you’re tired. Stop trying so hard.
“I don’t know how to do it any other way.”
That’s why I gave you Stephen.
“Gave me . . . Stephen?”
Yes. Haley, I am a God of relationships. Do you think I meant for you to love only one man in your life? There are a lot of things you think you know. About me. About yourself. About how life is supposed to play out. But sometimes you’re wrong.
“I didn’t mean to get it wrong. I tried to be right.”
Everyone tries to be right, Haley. But I am the right way. Not your way. My way.
“I don’t know who I’m supposed to be anymore.”
I can help you find your way back to that—to you.
“Back?”
Yes. You left part of you behind . . .
“How far back?”
Don’t worry . . . I’ll go with you every step of the way. And here’s the funny thing—
“There’s humor in this?”
I like laughter.
“Me, too.”
The funny thing is, you walk forward to find what you left behind.
“Forward?”
To what I have waiting for you.
“What’s that?”
I think you know.
“What?”
Take another look, Haley. Take another look.
thirty-nine
Stephen had started over. Made peace with his past. Faced reality. And started chasing an unexpected, outside-the-box dream. Then why wasn’t he content?
He dumped his satchel on the couch, shucking off his shoes and yanking off his tie at the same time. When his phone buzzed on his hip, he pulled it out of the holster, not surprised to see Jared’s face appear. Enough. He muted the phone without answering it. “I just spent all day with you, man. Gimme a break.”
He tossed the phone down next to his satchel and tie and headed for the galley kitchen. He’d make dinner and then call Jared back. Talk business. That’s all he did these days. Who knew a wild idea could become such a profitable venture? He had no time to explore Oregon . . . or to think about Colorado.
In the kitchen, the Bon Appétit wall calendar hanging beside the refrigerator declared it was August. Wrong. He flipped the page over to September. He’d been in Oregon going on three months now. Another week and he could call Haley for his once-a-month “How’s my niece doing?” phone call. Talk about Kit. Brief. Casual.
And then he’d spend the next week trying not to think about Haley. Her blue eyes. The softness of her hair. The taste of her lips. He’d work out longer at the gym. Stay later at the office. Try some new recipes and insist Jared eat dinner for once.
Why not throw caution to the wind and call tonight? Get a week’s head start on untangling his emotions. He retrieved his phone, pacing the length of his kitchen while he waited for Haley to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Haley, how’s it going?” Good. Just the right amount of casual in the greeting.
“We’re good, Stephen. Just getting ready to give Kit a bath.”
“Oh, sorry. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“No, no problem. I’ve got time to talk.”
“So, how’s Peanut?”
“Good. Getting bigger—she gained another pound. The doctor said she’s doing great. That she’ll probably catch up to all the milestones by her first birthday.”
“I’m not surprised. And you? How are you?” He’d pat himself on the back later for maintaining just the right amount of detached interest in his voice.
“I’m good, too. Still teaching private lessons at the range and liking that.”
What was it with Haley and the “good” business? It felt as if she was keeping him at arm’s length, trying to convince him they were doing just fine without him. And they probably were. “Any more homeowners’ association hassles?”
“Not since the tree was cut down.”
Stephen stopped with his hand on the fridge door handle. “You cut it down?”
“It was a tree . . . nothing more. And it was dying. Since I took care of the tree, Shelton’s been quiet.”
“Did you do anything about those photographs?”
“A law enforcement officer paid Shelton a visit—issued him a warning since I chose not to press charges. I don’t worry about him hassling me anymore.”
“That’s a relief.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, the whole gang. They want to meet Kit. And my brothers said they’ll do some of the projects around the house.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Yep. Like I said, we’re good.” Haley stopped talking as Kit cooed into the phone. “Did you hear that? Kit said, ‘Hello, Uncle Stephen.’ ”
“Tell her that I miss her.”
“She misses you, too.” Something unspoken hung in the air. “How are you doing?”
“Keeping busy, but that’s to be expected when you decide to start up a new company.” Stephen realized he’d been standing there, hanging on to the fridge door. He uncurled his fingers.
“It sounds exciting—designing houses.”
“It’s exhausting.”
“I bet you’re doing a wonderful job.” Kit interrupted the conversation with a sudden bout of protests. “Oh, Stephen . . . I’m sorry. I hate to cut you off, but she’s only wearing a diaper and I think she’s cold—”
“Never let it be said I kept a woman from her bath. Take care, Haley.”
“We will.”
Once Haley hung up, Stephen turned to stare at the view outside his apartment—not that he’d see any of it. Was this it, then? Once-a-month phone calls that would eventually taper off to even less frequent ones as Kit grew up? Standing by as Haley met some other guy, fell in love, and got married? What was he supposed to do?
There is no fear in love.
Stephen stilled, closing his eyes. It was as if God had whispered a precious truth to him, and his soul whispered back, “What, Lord?”
There is no fear in love.
If he was honest with himself, he’d admit that fear was woven through his feelings for Haley. He was afraid of what others might think—what his brother would think, what Sam’s friends would think, what his mother and father would think.
At least he had Haley’s mom on his side—maybe even her oldest brother.
“Haley needs a very special man, someone who sees her for who she is—who she could be. Sam could have become that man, but he’s not here . . . and I’m sorry he lost that chance. But now you’re here—”
“And I’m Sam’s brother.”
“I know that, Stephen.” Paula moved to the door before she spoke again. Then she paused, the door halfway open, speaking over her shoulder. “Don’t let a little thing like that stop you from loving the right woman—if you’ve found her.”
A little thing like that?
Even if he ignored everyone else, would Haley ever see him for himself ? Was he condemned to being Sam’s reflection for the rest of his life?
Sam was gone . . . dead—and because of that truth, there was no way for Sam and Haley to work on their marriage. Maybe Sam would have realized Haley needed him. Maybe he would have stopped choosing the military over his marriage. There was no way to know.
But Stephen was still alive. He could make his own choices about Haley. He had the freedom to love Haley without guilt or fear. Loving Haley wasn’t a sin. If he acknowledged all he felt for her, instead of turning his back on it, he’d be overwhelmed by admiration . . . desire . . . respect . . . longing. He would admit he loved Haley. It wouldn’t matter what anyone else thought. Their relationship, their future, was between them and God.
But how did he make the leap from fear to boldness? He had to admit he did love Haley—and not in a brotherly kind of way. And that yes, falling in love with her made things complicated. When had his life not been complicated? Messy? Even crazy at times? And as much as he hated to say it, Jared was right. He was acting like some guy in a daytime soap opera, refusing to say how he truly felt about Haley because of what everyone else might think.
No more. He was going to love Haley boldly—and ask her if she could risk loving him, too.
forty
Stephen mentally gripped his confidence with both hands, refusing to let go. He’d come this far—he was going to finish it.
He consulted his iPhone. According to the GPS, he should almost be at the shooting range. He was minutes away from seeing Haley again. And he’d face her in an entire building full of guns.
Smart, Ames. Very smart.
If she didn’t like his idea, he could only hope she’d say no and leave it at that—not pull a gun on him again.
Once he’d parked outside the range, he closed his eyes and breathed a prayer. “I’m going in, Lord. I’m being strong and courageous, believing this is the way you want me to go. I pray Haley’s heart is open to me. Please, God, if it’s your will . . . let me have the chance of loving this woman.”
He nodded to the two men behind the glass counters. Various guns were tagged and set out on shelves. Protective eyeglasses and earmuffs were on display, as well as gun cases and safes. T-shirts and targets. Now all he needed to do was find Haley.
“Can I help you?” A man with a marines-approved crew cut approached him.
“I’m looking for Haley Ames. I was told she was here.”
“She’s on the range.” The man motioned toward the bank of glass on one side of the room. “Finishing up a lesson.”
“Is it okay if I wait for her?”
“Doesn’t bother me.” The man paused. “Anybody ever tell you—”
“That I look like her husband, Sam? Yeah. I’m his twin brother, Stephen. Nice to meet you.”
They shook hands and then Stephen crossed the room, standing by the windows so he could watch Haley. Her back was to him, her honey-blond hair arranged in the usual ponytail, which was pulled through the back opening of a denim ball cap. She wore jeans and a form-fitting white T-shirt that accentuated how she’d recovered her slender figure since Kit’s birth.
As he watched, she talked with a teen girl, helping her adjust her stance and reposition her arms. Then she stepped back while the girl took aim on a target downrange and fired. Haley patted her on the shoulder, motioning for the girl to try again.
It was a full ten minutes before the teen packed up her gun and the two of them exited the range through the two doors, separated by a small sound-buffering room, then entered the store.
“You did great out there today, Candy. The extra practices are paying off . . .” Haley’s voice faded as she recognized Stephen. A smile curved her lips, her blue eyes shining. “Stephen?”
“Hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Claire told me I’d find you here.”
“O-kay. But why?”
“I wanted to show you something—and I have a proposition for you.” He hadn’t planned on having the conversation in front of other people, but if that was the way things went down, so be it. He wasn’t walking away from Haley without telling her what was in his heart.
“A proposition?” She quirked her eyebrow and then paused, seeming to remember her student. “Wait a minute. Candy, same time next week?”
“Sure, Haley.”
“Good. You’re doing great. Get back here and practice at least twice before then, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Haley pulled off her ball cap, kneading her forehead with her fingers before repositioning it on her head. “So, what’s the proposition, Stephen?”
“Is there someplace we could go to talk?”
“There’s a coffee shop halfway between here and home, or we could walk along the hiking path back behind the club.”
Sit and add more caffeine to his already overloaded system? Not a smart move. And if he had the chance for privacy, he’d take it. “Walking sounds good.”
“I’ll need to call Claire and tell her I’m going to be late.”
“How do you think I found you? Claire knows I planned on talking with you.”
Another quirk of her eyebrow. “O-kay, then. Let me sign off the clock—”
“And I’ll grab what I need from my car and meet you out front.”
He had all of two minutes to practice
what he wanted to say once more. Proposition one. Proposition two. Proposition three. And his success depended on Haley’s liking all three of them.
God, I hope I’ve come at the right time. Not too soon. Not too late. I’m ready. I only pray Haley is ready, too.
A few moments later, Haley led him to the man-made trail. She’d taken her hair down, and it hung in soft waves around her face. Why not just enjoy walking with her in the late afternoon sunshine?
“I saw Peanut when I stopped by the house. She’s only gotten more adorable since I was here last. She has your blond hair. Your smile.”
“Did you come to see your niece, then?”
“No—although I hoped to see her.” He patted the black presentation portfolio tucked under his arm. “I wanted to show you this.”
“And that is?”
“A couple of things I’ve been working on. I wanted to see what you thought about some of my ideas.”
“You’re the businessman, Stephen, not me.”
“True—but I value your opinion, Haley. I care about . . . about what you think.”
So much for walking and having some casual conversation with Haley. And really, his heart was racing as if he was in a marathon. If he kept this up, he’d sweat through his shirt before he finished. What was the plan again? Three points. Three propositions. One, two, three. Keep it simple. Be courageous.
Around a slight bend in the path, a wrought-iron and wooden bench was tucked up against a small trio of trees. “How about we sit for a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
She settled next to him, not close enough for their bodies to touch, but near enough that the scent of lavender caused him to close his eyes for a few seconds as he breathed one last prayer. Then he slid closer to Haley, positioning the portfolio on his lap. “Like I said, I wanted to show you something.”
Haley touched the cover, labeled with the words FAMILY TREES. “What is this, Stephen?”
“You’ll understand if you look inside.”
Stephen traveled all the way from Oregon to Colorado to have her look at a portfolio? Of what?
Haley tamped down the emotions that had surged to the surface of her heart when she saw him in the gun club. She’d wanted to run and throw her arms around him—hold on to him and, even if just for a moment, feel at rest in his arms again. She knew if he held her, the yearning that sometimes kept her awake at night would finally be satisfied. Or would she just want more?