Provenance

by Carla Laureano

  No, that wasn’t true. They’d needed to work together. The attorney had filed for the injunction and felt confident it would be granted on Monday or Tuesday. His dad had called to say that he’d heard from his friend at History Colorado who confirmed that the grant application had been received and would be considered, even though it was late. Turned out she was a history buff and actually had a deep appreciation of the Arts and Crafts movement in England. Another thing that couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.

  Had Kendall not come, he wouldn’t be raising a motion to the city council to change the zoning on Monday. And he certainly wouldn’t be on speaking terms with his father again, something that felt a little bit like an ill-fitting suit. They’d grown out of the family friend relationship they’d had when he was a boy, and now they were going to have to figure out what a new father-son relationship looked like. If he were completely honest, it was something he’d always secretly wanted but never wanted to admit.

  But now he wasn’t sure if it was enough.

  Because talking to Kendall made him realize that in two short weeks, she’d become one of the most important people in his life. It seemed impossible. They’d worked together and kissed twice. But he couldn’t help but admire her bravery, particularly because she didn’t recognize it as such. In two weeks, she’d had her world turned upside down. She’d had to reevaluate everything she thought she knew about her past and her family. She’d reconnected with foster parents and realized the error of her memories. And she hadn’t been afraid to abandon her long-held belief when faced with the evidence that, indeed, life was not haphazard. That she had been guided all these years by a loving and patient God.

  How could he not love her? Whether or not they ever had the chance to fall in love, he wanted the best for her, even if it was at his own expense.

  For that reason, he was going to heed the warning in his spirit that said to do nothing. To not let on the depth of his feelings. Because what he wanted right now seemed not to be important, not if it interfered with another new relationship she would be working on.

  “You know, Fitz,” he said with a sigh. “Be glad you’re a dog. Because sometimes being a human sucks.”

  Fitz just wiggled forward so he could get more of his body on the couch.

  “Yeah, thanks, buddy. I’ve got you as long as I keep the kibble and the scratches coming.”

  Gabe might fully believe God had a plan. He might be willing to be obedient to it.

  But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  Sophie was supposed to be at her boyfriend’s house, so Kendall nearly jumped out of her skin when the front door slammed late the next morning. She leapt out of her office chair and poked her head out of the office, a hand held over her pounding heart. “Soph? Is that you?”

  Sophie stopped short. “Oh, sorry, Kendall. I just came home to grab something. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  Kendall blinked at her. Breezy, confident Sophie just stood there guiltily. “I texted you that I’d be home yesterday. Didn’t you get the text?”

  “Yeah, I did. I just . . .” Sophie shifted from foot to foot, looking around the room.

  Kendall narrowed her eyes. “Soph, what’s going on? Level with me.”

  Sophie gestured for them to take a seat in two of the chairs at the round table they used for design consultations. “I really didn’t want to do it this way.”

  Kendall blinked. “Do what this way?”

  Sophie grimaced. “I got a job offer.”

  “What?”

  “And I took it.” Sophie rushed on, “I’m so sorry, Kendall. I really value everything I’ve learned from you, and it’s been great working with you, but the past couple of weeks have proved to me that I’m capable of more than what I’m doing here. The Thomas project is going really well, and someone else wants to hire me . . . My clientele is taking off.” She reached for Kendall’s hand. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  Kendall sat there, frozen in shock. And then she started to laugh.

  Sophie suddenly looked terrified.

  “How long have we been friends, Soph?”

  Sophie looked like it was a trick question. Only then did Kendall realize that what she’d seen as a friendship maybe didn’t mean the same thing to Sophie, who had a life outside of the design group. Kendall had been a mentor, a roommate, but had they ever really connected with each other on a deep personal level?

  “How long have we worked together?” she rephrased. “Four years, right?”

  Sophie nodded.

  “In all that time, I was afraid to let go of any of this business because it was all I had. I had to make it work, because as you know, I have nothing to fall back on. But leaving and coming back to all this . . . I realize I’ve been underutilizing you. You are capable of so much more than I gave you credit for. You’re an excellent designer in your own right, and you’re also apparently a good businessperson.” She took a deep breath. “In fact, I was about to ask if you wanted to become a full partner.”

  Sophie looked at her, her eyes wide. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes. Or no. It’s your choice.”

  Sophie hesitated. “Here’s the thing, Kendall. I’ve watched everything you’ve had to do to get this business up and running. I see the money going out. I see how close we are to being in the red every month. And I just don’t think I have it in me to take on that kind of responsibility.”

  “I understand,” Kendall said, though the hope she’d felt moments before deflated. “You’re sure you won’t stay? As a designer, of course, not as my assistant.”

  She cringed a little. “Kendall, the offer is with Joseph Kramer.”

  “Wow.” Kendall sat back in her seat. Joseph Kramer? “Wow.”

  “I hope you don’t feel like it’s a betrayal because he gave you your shot. Because it was partly the fact I worked with you that made him want me. He had nothing but great things to say about you and your work. But we both know that I’m a different designer than you are. And . . .” Sophie shrugged. “I can make a lot more money there. I know that shouldn’t be the deciding factor, but it is. Southern California is expensive. It’s the difference between having my own place someday and continuing to live where I work. And I know you love it, but sometimes I just have to get away. That’s why I spend so much time at Sean’s place.”

  Hearing it put that way, Kendall realized how backward she’d had everything. For Sophie, this was a job, not her home; she’d never been as dedicated to keeping this house as Kendall had. Now Kendall wasn’t even sure why she was so attached to it.

  “I’m actually kind of glad to hear you say that,” Kendall said. “Because I’m letting this place go.”

  Sophie gasped. “You’re kidding me. Is it because you couldn’t sell the properties in Colorado?”

  “Partly.” She didn’t tell her that it was because she’d chosen to keep them, for reasons she was only beginning to understand. “But also because I was holding on to it for the wrong reasons. I thought it was my home, and I thought home meant everything, and now I realize there are things that are more important.”

  “So . . . what are you going to do?”

  “Well, we didn’t sign the lease, so I suppose I’m looking for a new place to live,” Kendall said. “I’m committed through Christmas, but I’m going back to Colorado for the holidays, so I guess we need to be out of here by then. Is that going to be a problem?”

  Sophie shook her head. “I’ll just put my furniture into storage until I find an apartment. I’ll stay with Sean until then.”

  “Good. I think.” Kendall sat back, her hands in her lap. What else was there to say?

  “Kendall, are you okay? You seem . . . different.”

  Kendall took a deep breath, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face, even if it was tinged with irony. “You have no idea.”

  “The trip to Colorado was a good thing, then?”

  “It was exactly what I need
ed,” Kendall said. “I feel like a different person.” She would wait to tell Sophie that she’d found God. . . . Right now, with all the changes Kendall had announced, Sophie might think she’d joined a cult and was pledging all her money to it or something. Besides, Kendall wasn’t sure how to put the experience into words. Didn’t know what it really meant to her yet. Other than it felt like after carrying the weight of the world for years, she’d finally shifted it to the rightful shoulders.

  “I have to tell you I’m really relieved by your reaction. I thought you might feel betrayed.”

  Kendall took the words in and nodded slowly. “A month ago, I would have. Because this was all I had. I was hanging all my hopes on the success of this business. But now . . .” She shook her head. “It’s important, but it’s not the only thing.”

  Sophie was still staring at her like she’d grown another head. “So I guess we’ll discuss the plans for my transition on Monday?”

  Kendall nodded. “You should take the new client with you. I know they called here, but they asked for you. And quite frankly, mid-century modern isn’t my thing. I think I’ll stick with the historical restorations.”

  Sophie was trying not to look giddy, but she was failing. She stood and unexpectedly threw her arms around Kendall’s neck. “Thank you, Kendall. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome, Sophie. You’re ready. Everyone saw it except for me, and for that I’m sorry.” Kendall disentangled her. “Now go. I know this was just a quick stop-in.”

  Kendall watched her assistant—former assistant, soon to be former employee—leave the room and then sank back into her chair. She’d made the decision to give up this house on the spur of the moment, but it had been percolating in her mind ever since she’d decided to keep the property in Colorado. She had enough of a reputation to continue working out of a smaller house, without a showroom. All the furniture would shift to the warehouse she was already paying for, and she could get out from under this crushing lease.

  It felt like the right move.

  And then she wondered if maybe she should pray about it. It was a new idea, running her thoughts by God. She didn’t even know how He would answer. With an audible word? With a sign? With a feeling that she was doing the right thing?

  Will You show me my next moves? I don’t want to make a mistake.

  Maybe not eloquent as prayers went, but Gabe made it seem like it was that easy.

  Now she just had to wait for an answer.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  THE MOTION PASSED, seven votes to two. As soon as Burton heard the decision, he stormed out of the room and slammed the chamber door behind him.

  Gabe wasn’t sure which was more satisfying—the fact that the city council had taken his leadership on the rezoning issue or the fact that Burton was furious over it.

  Actually, he suspected it was the cocky expression on the developer’s face that had swung a couple of votes in Gabe’s direction; his unofficial poll had made him think it was going to fall five to four in his favor. But those swing votes were tricky—they could have gone either way.

  The temporary injunction had helped, though, coming through early this afternoon just as the attorney had predicted. It only granted them a stay of execution—even though the zoning had been changed, the condemnation proceeding was on file and they were going to have to deal with it one way or another. They had to bring the homes up to code, and then they would be safe. Permanently.

  Gabe desperately wanted to call Kendall and let her know, but every time he tried to dial her number, he was met with a suffocating wall of No. God was not messing around. When he felt no such check at typing her email address, he sent her a quick message: The injunction was granted and the city council voted to change the zoning to historical residential. We’re safe for now.

  He shoved his phone back into his pocket, refusing to mark the minutes until she replied.

  Because if she didn’t . . . that would feel like more of an ending than even God’s clear direction.

  “I don’t understand,” Kendall said. “We were all set to start today.”

  Louise Marquette, the owner of the Woolridge House, regarded her sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Kendall. When we didn’t get a reply from you confirming, we assumed that you were just too busy. And although you were definitely our first choice, we thought perhaps we would be better off going with someone who would be more committed to the project.”

  Kendall stared at Louise in shock. This couldn’t be happening. She’d counted on the deposit for the Woolridge job to take her through Christmas, to help pay for the move and the first month’s rent on whatever house she ended up leasing. She wanted to argue, but their minds were made up, and anything more would be unprofessional. She stood and held out her hand. “Well, I’m very sorry it didn’t work out. It’s a beautiful home, and I hope you’re thrilled with the way it turns out.”

  “We hope so too. Thank you, Kendall. I’m sorry again.”

  Kendall walked out the front door of the home, climbed in her car, and immediately started to search her phone for the email she’d sent confirming that she would indeed start the job today.

  And found it. In her drafts folder.

  She blinked at the phone in disbelief. Had she really done that? She’d forgotten to press Send? With everything that had been going on at the time, she supposed it was possible, but it wasn’t like her.

  She pushed her hands through her hair and forced down the panic. “‘All things work together for good to those who love God,’” she repeated to herself, a verse she’d learned when she’d tentatively walked into a neighborhood church last night. “You have some way of reinforcing lessons.”

  She could only hope that God had a sense of humor. Because this faith thing was already new enough without making Him mad.

  Then again, it wasn’t like He didn’t know what she was thinking anyway.

  “Okay. What next?” She directed the words to the car’s ceiling and, not surprisingly, got no distinct response back. Hopefully some kind of answer would come before she ran out of money and a place to live.

  She leaned her head back against her car’s headrest and concentrated on taking deep breaths to calm her fluttering heart. This was fine. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any prospects. She’d had a few inquiries for projects after the holidays, and there was a quick kitchen refresh between Thanksgiving and Christmas—one Sophie had just emailed her—that looked promising. Just because the big one had fallen through didn’t mean she was in trouble. She just needed to figure out a way to keep things afloat while she was moving into a less expensive place and Sophie was transitioning out.

  Her phone dinged, her email notification. Her heart rose into her throat when she saw the sender: Gabriel Brandt. She opened the message and read it: The injunction was granted and the city council voted to change the zoning to historical residential. We’re safe for now.

  She frowned and reread it. That was it? Not that she wasn’t thrilled to hear that they’d prevailed over Burton and his revenge plans, but she and Gabe had spent five hours on the phone on Saturday night. That was all he had to say to her? No asking her if she was okay. No wondering if she’d found a church like he recommended or if she’d actually bought a Bible.

  Nothing saying that he missed her or wished she was there to help with what came next in Jasper Lake.

  Kendall shook her head angrily to clear those thoughts. She wasn’t mad at him; she was mad at herself. Hadn’t part of her thought that maybe, now that they shared the same faith, however new and tenuous hers was, there might be hope for them? That he might reconsider his decision not to pursue a relationship with her?

  But that wasn’t really the point, was it? That wasn’t why she’d decided to follow Jesus. She’d made that choice because it was no longer possible to ignore how God had already worked in her life, using the disasters for good, or at least better than it might have been.

  She needed this relationship for he
rself, not just as a stepping-stone into a romance with Gabe.

  She tapped out a reply, as brief and careful as his message had been: I’m so glad to hear that. Keep me posted. And let me know if you need my help with anything.

  She dropped her phone into the cup holder and twisted her key in the ignition, ignoring the ache in her chest that didn’t seem to want to fade now that it had taken up residence. But she had plenty to keep her distracted. Plenty to keep her from dwelling on the irony: she was finally letting go of her fear of relationships, but it came too late for her to have the one she really wanted.

  Gabe had his work cut out for him, keeping his mind off Kendall. She was first on his mind when he woke up in the morning and last on it when he went to bed. But his guidance had been clear, and as much as Gabe wanted to believe her brief reply changed the rules, he knew he was just trying to think up reasons to hear her voice again.

  It wasn’t as though he didn’t have plenty to do. Now that the injunction had been issued and the zoning had been changed, it fell to him to start thinking about what they were going to do in place of the resort. The situation that he had been hired to remedy hadn’t changed: the town was still in danger, but this time the danger was the likelihood of it fading away slowly, dying season by season. Just because he was opposed to the development that Burton had wanted to bring to Jasper Lake didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the need for it to grow and thrive.

  The answer came from a most unexpected place, carried by the most unexpected person. Gabe looked up at a knock at his office door when Linda was out to lunch, expecting to see one of the Jasper Lake citizens hoping to catch a minute of his time.

  Instead, it was his father.

  Gabe rose from his chair immediately, shocked into silence. He finally found his voice and stuck out his hand. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Do you want to have a seat?”

  Robert shook his hand tentatively and then pulled out one of the armchairs in front of Gabe’s desk. “This is impressive, Son. It’s a nice little town.”