by Jan Fields
The next morning, Annie briefly considered pulling the covers over her head and skipping church. She’d slept poorly, having lain awake until the early hours of the morning. She still felt confused and very sad. She dressed carefully, choosing a blue floral dress that swished around her legs pleasantly. She hoped a little extra makeup would help hide the dark circles under her eyes.
When she got to the church, she saw Ian waiting at the top of the wide church steps. His face broke into a smile at the sight of her, and Annie remembered that she was supposed to go to his house for dinner. She wondered briefly if she could beg off. She smiled back at Ian, though her smile felt a bit stiff. “Annie, what’s wrong?” he asked, clearly alarmed. “Is it LeeAnn or the kids?”
“No, they’re fine.” She patted his arm absently. “I had some trouble sleeping last night. I really don’t want to talk about it right now. Would that be all right?”
He nodded and took her hand tucking it into his arm as they walked into the church. Annie paid little attention as Ian led her to a pew and took a seat beside her. She looked around the room and blinked as she spotted Ivy sitting near the front of the sanctuary in a beautifully tailored rose linen dress. Annie didn’t think Ivy looked ill, though her thinness did give her an air of fragility.
Ian followed her gaze and then looked surprised. He nodded toward Ivy. “That’s the woman you asked me about—the one who was Betsy’s friend. She’s looking a bit thin, but that’s definitely her.”
Annie nodded. “I know. She’s the one who has been making the little cats.”
“You solved the mystery.”
She nodded.
“But you wish you hadn’t?”
“No. I’m glad I did,” she said, leaning her head onto his shoulder. “I just wish it had a happier ending.” Realizing how that might look, Annie straightened up, turning to look at Ian.
Ian spoke gently, quietly. “Not every story does.”
She smiled at him. “No, I suppose not.”
She turned her gaze back toward Ivy and spotted Adam striding up the aisle to Ivy’s pew. Ivy looked up at him, clearly surprised and not particularly pleased.
Annie saw Adam speak to her. Ivy shook her head at him. He slid into the pew beside her and took her hand. He spoke again, his face intent. Annie watched a look of wonder pass over her face.
As Reverend Wallace took his place at the podium for announcements, Adam and Ivy turned their gazes toward the front. Annie noticed that Ivy let Adam hold her hand. She stole glances at them now and then during the service, seeing that he never let it go.
Somehow Annie knew that love had won out. And she knew in her heart of hearts that Adam and Ivy would somehow fill whatever time God gave them with all of the laughter and tears and heartache and joy that only love could bring. Annie glanced at the strong, good man beside her, knowing that she, too, had been running from love for a long time.
After the service, Ian walked out with Annie. “You know,” he said. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we can postpone our Sunday dinner plans. Tartan will understand.”
Annie smiled at that. “I can’t think of anyone I would rather be with today than you and Tartan.”
Ian smiled widely. “And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be with any time than you. When I was driving back from New York, I was feeling a little lost and very alone. Then I saw you in my yard, dripping wet.”
“Thanks for that memory,” Annie said ruefully.
“You looked so horrified,” Ian said, laughing, “and there was Tartan shaking more water onto you. I realized then that I didn’t need to feel so alone after all.”
“I imagine it’s hard to be lonely with Tartan around,” Annie said, half-kidding.
Ian smiled. Folding her hand over his arm again, they walked down the church steps. “That’s part of the reason I’m not lonely any more, but not the biggest—or the best—part.”
And with that, he walked her to her car in the beautiful spring sunshine.