“I bet it sticks in their craw that you had more fame and fortune with one book than they’ve all had combined,” Nate said.
“With a book about a fairy.”
“So what? You made kids want to read. I wish there’d been a book I’d wanted to read as a kid. I’d just as soon use the paper as kindling for a fire.”
“What a horrible thing to say,” Emily said on an outraged gasp.
“Sorry to offend you,” he said, with a small grin. “But your parents should be proud of you. They should be bragging about you so much that other people want them to shut up.”
“They’re not the bragging type,” she said with a resigned shrug. “Anyway, my family has never known what to make of me. I swear they must wonder if they brought home the wrong baby from the hospital. I don’t look like them, don’t think like them, and I certainly don’t write like them.”
“Is that why you’re so desperate to find a new idea? Because you have something to prove to your family?”
“I can’t be a fluke,” she whispered. “They may never understand me, or the creatures I see in my head, but at least I have those creatures. Or I did.”
Her usually animated face was tight and unhappy, her mouth curved down in a frown of confusion. Nate itched to reach for Emily. The need to comfort and protect her was overwhelming.
“Maybe you should have a little faith in your talent,” he said instead. “I think you’ve been listening to your family for too long. Believe me, I know what can happen when you let other people’s opinions shape your own worth.”
Emily studied him. “Quite profound, Nathan. Whose opinion shaped your worth?”
“I thought we were talking about you.”
She slipped off the tailgate. “Me, too. Who made you feel bad about yourself?”
“No one,” he said, backing up a step. “I was only saying it can happen.”
“Must have been bad.”
Nate realized he was still backing up. Disgusted with his own cowardice, he planted his feet. “I don’t have time for this.”
She stopped a few inches from him. “Time for what?”
Such a challenge could not go unanswered. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up against his chest, ignoring the way her eyes went wide and the hiss of indrawn breath. “This.”
Emily stared up at him, lips parted. The temptation to lower his head and taste them grew until his insides clenched.
Talk about bad impulses. Really stupid.
“Have to check the van.” He set her away from him and spun on his heel. “Should be fine by now.”
His hands were shaking as he turned the key. Thankfully, the engine sputtered to life on the first try. He waved her over.
She paused next to the door. “Thanks. You’ve become quite the hero. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of the van now.”
Oh, now why did she have to go and act all brave? And look so adorable at the same time? He considered driving away for all of two seconds. He would have, if not for his mother. She’d take a switch to his backside if she knew he’d left a woman with a temperamental old van alone on an isolated road. He could hear her nagging at him as though she were standing by his shoulder.
Manners. Sometimes they were a real curse.
“Hold on.” Muffling an oath, Nate hurried around to the passenger side and climbed in.
“What are you doing?” Emily asked, gazing at him across the seat.
“I’m giving you lessons in how to operate a rickety old vehicle,” he said with more sharpness than he’d intended. “Someone needs to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”
She caught the shift in tone, and her blue orbs flared with sudden annoyance. “No need to put yourself out. I told you I could handle it.”
Anger flooded through him. He knew his own spike of temper had more to do with frustrated desire, but he couldn’t stop the surge. “Oh, like you handled the van right into a ditch?”
“There’s no ditch here,” Emily said, throwing her arms out. “Do you see a ditch?”
Nate fixed her with a glare. “Would you get in? I’m already late, and I don’t have time to rescue you again today.”
“All the more reason for you to go on and let me finish my deliveries. Far be it from me to keep you from your schedule.”
He took a breath, trying to reign in the roiling mass of unwanted emotions. Another deep inhale before he spoke again. “Emily, please get in.”
Fire continued to shoot from her eyes, but the inferno became more subdued. “Fine,” she said, with a distinct sniff of irritation. “What about your truck?”
“We’ll come back for it later. Now, put her in first and let’s go.”
She glared but reached for the gearshift. “My hero.”
****
Despite her pique at Nate’s highhandedness, Emily had to acknowledge his tutorial in the intricacies of decrepit old vehicles proved invaluable. She managed to make it through the rest of her stops without stalling the van again. Which meant she’d have to apologize the next time she saw him.
Not that she had plans to see him.
At her last stop, she pulled up in front of a simple, one-story home. The neighborhood seemed a little run down compared to some of the others she’d visited today, but 135 Magnolia Street had been painted a lovely salmon color that gave the place a touch of elegance. She reached in the back seat and grabbed the package marked Rachel.
She rang the doorbell and a moment later a stout black woman with a streak of white running up the middle of her hair opened the door. Her shoulders were strong, and her obsidian eyes glistened with gentle warmth, making her a formidable figure, even though she barely came up to Emily’s chin.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m Emily from the library. I’m dropping off some books. Are you Rachel?”
Even white teeth flashed, and deep grooves bracketed her age-old eyes as she smiled. “No, I’m Anna. I visit every day and sit with Miss Rachel when she’s feeling poorly. Come on in. She loves visitors.”
Emily stopped short when she spotted the frail, balding woman sitting in an easy chair by the window. Sunlight reflected off the few wisps of hair left on her head, giving the effect of a halo. Emily imagined Rachel had once been a pretty woman, but illness had hollowed out her cheeks and drained the color from her skin.
She swallowed and forced herself to smile and not think about what sad fate could be awaiting the poor woman. Emily had often visited children in hospitals and seen how disease had wasted their bodies and stolen their lives by slow degrees. Every visit had carved a little hole in her heart. The rift tore open again as she approached.
“Miss Rachel, you have a visitor,” Anna said. “She’s come from the library.”
The woman opened her eyes. They were gray and seemed to be the only spark of life left in her withered body. Emily moved forward and concentrated on not flinching as she took Miss Rachel’s cold hand.
“I’ve brought your books,” Emily said. “For Whom the Bell Tolls and Pride and Prejudice. I have to say you’re a woman after my own heart.”
Anna cleared her throat. “I’ll go fix some tea.”
“I don’t want to tire you out,” Emily said, thinking the woman didn’t look well enough to talk.
“I don’t have much time left to visit with friends,” Rachel said with a knowing smile. “I’d rather fill my mind with wonderful memories than stare out the window and dwell on the pain of leaving.”
Shock raced through Emily’s body. Rachel spoke so matter-of-factly about dying. What kind of strength did the woman possess beneath her fragile exterior? Where did such a deep assurance come from? Not knowing what else to say, Emily nodded and sank into a nearby chair.
“You’re new,” Rachel said. “Where is Elsie?”
Since Emily had repeated the explanation a half a dozen times today, she could recite the story by heart now. “She injured her back. I happened to overhear about the trouble, so I volunteered to hel
p out while I’m here.”
“Very generous of you. Are you visiting someone in town?”
“More like passing through. My car broke down out by the lake. I was lucky someone came along, or who knows how long I would’ve been stuck out there. I’d never been so glad to see anything as that white truck.”
Rachel went still. “Someone with a white truck stopped to help you?”
“Yeah, although when I first saw it coming around the corner, I had serious doubts. Nothing good can come out of that rattletrap, I thought. Guess I’ve seen too many horror movies. All the best ones start with someone lost on a deserted road.”
Rachel’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “A woman alone can’t be too careful. What did you think when you saw your rescuer?”
“To tell you the truth, I thought I must be the luckiest girl in the world. I got rescued by my own Heathcliff.”
“Heathcliff?”
“You know, from Wuthering Heights?”
“Yes, I know the book. It’s rather depressing if you ask me,” Rachel said. “I’m glad you didn’t encounter an ogre on the road.”
A grin stretched the corners of Emily’s mouth. “No, I got a hero in a rusty steed. Pretty fitting, considering the way my life’s going these days.”
“You’ve hit a rough patch?”
Emily started to confess her troubles, but something stopped her. Here she was sitting with a woman who probably didn’t have much longer to live. What right did she have to complain about a little writer’s block?
Rachel seemed to read Emily’s mind. “We all have our trials to endure, dear. Yours are obviously causing you pain. I can’t do anything about this cancer in my body, but perhaps I can help you.”
A twisted type of logic, but Emily saw the sense in the words. “The truth is I’ve hit a jagged, torn up, filled-with-potholes patch. I’m a writer, and my brain’s been on the fritz for what seems like forever. I keep hoping the answer to my problem is just around the corner, and if I keep moving long enough, eventually I’ll get to the right one.”
“Emily, have you ever considered your car breaking down in Covington Falls was no accident?” Rachel asked. “Perhaps you’re here now for a purpose.”
“I’m not sure I believe in fate. I’ll make my own destiny.”
“Rely on yourself, you mean?”
“Exactly. People only let you down anyway.”
She shook her head, and Emily had the feeling Rachel now felt sorry for her. “You’re quite young to be so cynical.”
Pride made her stiffen. “Not so much cynical as realistic.”
“I gather you don’t believe in a higher power.”
“You mean God? I took a couple religion courses in college, and the theories are interesting, but I can’t say I bought any of them.”
“I’m not talking about religions,” Rachel said, her tongue clicking as she waved a hand in dismissal. “I mean a God who loves and wants the best for you. A God who has a plan for your life.”
“Not the way my life has gone. What about you? Is God in control when you’re sick and—” Emily gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. “I am so sorry! What a horrible thing to say.”
Rachel didn’t respond with outrage. Instead, her gray eyes turned serious. “I suppose I could lose myself in bitterness. Blame God for my illness.”
“I think you’d have a right to be angry. If your God is so in control, how do you explain why terrible things happen in the world? Why is there cancer? Why do children die? Why do we have wars and evil people who want to wipe out entire races?”
“What you intended for evil, God intended for good.”
“What?” she asked in bemusement.
“It’s one of my favorite stories in the Bible. Have you ever heard of Joseph?”
Emily shook her head.
“Your professor didn’t cover his story in your religions class?” Rachel asked. “Joseph was the son of Jacob, who later became Israel. He had twelve sons.”
Emily sat straighter. “Oh, right. The tribes of Israel descended from them. I remember now.”
“Yes. In any case, Joseph was the favorite son, and his brothers resented him. They hated him so much they sold him into slavery.”
Who knew soap operas started in the Old Testament? “Wow, talk about sibling rivalry. I thought I had it bad with my family. What happened to Joseph?”
“He ended up in Egypt, and eventually found favor with the Pharaoh because of his gift for interpreting dreams. One of those dreams predicted a great famine. Joseph ended up being put in charge of making sure Egypt would have enough food stored up for the people to survive. Once the famine hit, people came from all over the land in search of food. Including Joseph’s brothers.”
Emily snapped her fingers. “Oh, sweet. Justice.”
Rachel gave a look Emily recognized from disappointed college professors lamenting over brainless students who just did not get it. “Not justice. God’s plan. Joseph was sent exactly where he needed to be in order to protect his family, and the future of Israel. Which is what he told his brothers. What you meant for evil, God meant for good.”
“Do you think your cancer is going to stop a famine?”
A weak chuckle rumbled through Rachel’s chest. “I doubt I hold so much importance. I do know God’s plan is perfect, but we don’t always understand His ways. Perhaps I’ll only know when I’m back with Him again in heaven. We’re all here for such a short time, but I have an eternity to look forward to with my Heavenly Father.”
“Have they made you a saint yet?” Emily asked.
Again, Rachel responded with warmth rather than offense. “No, dear. Don’t think I’m perfect. I have struggled. I still do.”
“But you have faith.”
“I do. It’s gotten me through some bad times and made me grateful for the good ones. Which is why I can say you are here for a purpose, and if you keep your mind and heart open, I believe you will discover what that reason is.”
Chapter Eight
Traveling the globe in search of an idea meant the journey had to be made alone. Emily had been on her quest for the better part of a year. She’d eaten at more tables for one than she cared to admit. Walked untold miles along country lanes and bustling city streets by herself. She didn’t mind solitude. Shoot, when she was knee deep into writing a book she didn’t want anyone bothering her. She could go for days and not miss company.
Until recently, when she’d begun feeling as though she might die of loneliness.
Today qualified as one of those times. Her heart felt twisted and sore after her visit with Rachel. Emily didn’t know how much longer the poor woman had but knew the end couldn’t be far off.
She glanced at her watch. 12:22. She contemplated stopping somewhere for lunch, but somehow the idea of sitting across from yet another empty chair made her want to drop to the sidewalk and weep.
Such a reaction scared her to death. Emily Sinclair was a loner. She didn’t need anyone.
“Emily!” a voice hailed from across the street.
She glanced up. Julia stood at the curb fanning her arm in a clear come here gesture. Emily obeyed the emphatic command.
Four other women stood clustered nearby. A slender middle-aged woman, a younger blond carbon copy of the first, a willowy brunette and… Holy smokes!
Was that…? Sugar cookies! It was!
“Addison Covington,” Emily said when she reached the group. “From House of Fashion.”
Julia nodded. “Yep. She’s one of my bridesmaids.”
Emily blinked, but the famous television star was still three feet away, looking even more stunning than she did on TV. “Addison Covington, the actress. She’s standing right there.”
“I am indeed,” the blond starlet drawled. “You’re the author.”
“You know who I am?”
“Mostly by reputation,” she said. “My fiancé’s niece was raving about you the other night. Then there was the curious tale of a
fire at the bakery, which turned out not to be a fire at all.”
Obviously, she’d never live down almost burning down the bakery. “I got distracted.”
Julia took Emily’s arm and pointed to the other three women. “Rounding out my bridal posse, my stepmother, Grace, my stepsister, Sarah, and my best friend and maid of honor, Meredith Vining.”
Addison pushed out her bottom lip in a move, which should have been annoying, but instead served to emphasize her perfect kiss-me-big-boy mouth. “I thought I was your best friend, and why does she get to be maid of honor?”
“I can’t have someone more beautiful than I am standing beside me,” Julia said, tossing her red hair. “All eyes must be on yours truly.”
“Hey,” Meredith gasped, holding a hand to her heart.
“No insult intended,” Julia said.
Meredith snorted. “Keep going and I might develop a sudden case of laryngitis the day of your wedding. No singing for you.”
Emily burst out laughing. She loved watching the women banter back and forth. Despite the sarcastic jibes, she sensed a deep affection among them. Emily had a few close friends, but they didn’t have the type of laughing, teasing relationship these women shared.
“Let’s not forget our appointment,” Sarah said. “Karen is waiting to do the fittings.”
Julia hooked an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “What would I do without you to keep me in line? Let’s get inside then.”
Emily stepped back to let the women pass, but Julia paused. “Where were you headed?”
“Oh, I was going to grab some lunch and then maybe write.”
A smile of pure delight broke out across Julia’s face. “Did you have a breakthrough with the writer’s block? Good for you.”
“Umm… no ideas. I thought I should try, though.”
Julia’s pleased expression transformed into a penetrating gaze, which left Emily with an urge to check and see if her nose had grown. “So, you’ve got the rest of the day to kill with nothing to do?”
Emily shrugged.
“Well, that won’t do,” Julia said. “Why don’t you come with us?”
Imagine That Page 6