It Had to Be You and All Our Tomorrows

by Irene Hannon

  “Sweetheart? You’re home.” He reached over and stroked the uninjured side of her face, which was closest to him.

  Her eyelids flickered open, and for a second she seemed disoriented. Then, as her face cleared, she struggled to open her seat belt.

  “Leave it.” He stilled her hand with a touch. “I’ll get it from the other side. Sit tight and I’ll come around.”

  She didn’t argue. She was too exhausted. Her face throbbed, her wrist ached and the numbing shots in her arm were wearing off. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep for days.

  A few seconds later, her door was pulled open. As David leaned across to unclasp her seat belt, taking care to avoid contact with her injured arm and face, her heart contracted with tenderness and gratitude. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, to ask him to hold her as he had done earlier in the evening. Not because she was injured and hurting. But for different reasons entirely. Except this wasn’t the time, she realized, noting the smudges beneath his eyes and the lines of worry etched in his face. The night had been fraught with too much emotional trauma already. They both needed to get some rest.

  Calling on every ounce of her strength, she swung her legs to the ground and stood. David tucked an arm around her waist as he pushed the door shut with his free hand, and she leaned into him. She’d always prided herself on being a woman who could stand on her own two feet, but neither her feet—nor her legs—felt steady enough to support her weight right now.

  “Want me to carry you?” David murmured, his worried voice close to her ear.

  In truth, she did. But she shook her head. “I’ll be okay as long as I can lean on you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Their progress was slow, and negotiating the three steps to her door taxed her energy to the limit. As if sensing how close she was to collapse, David took the key from her trembling fingers, inserted it in the lock and guided her inside.

  “Are you going to be okay here by yourself tonight?” he asked.

  “The night’s almost over.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah. I do,” she said softly. Although she’d been in a lot of pain earlier, at the Chronicle, she hadn’t missed his murmured endearment then—or just now, in the car. He’d called her sweetheart. And with that single word, she’d known that his feelings for her ran deep and strong. Just as hers did for him. Now, as she looked at him, the banked fire in his deep brown eyes threatened to erupt into a consuming flame. But this man of discipline and self-restraint, this man of prudence, this man who always thought things through and seldom acted on impulse—this man she loved—managed to contain it. As if he, too, realized that now wasn’t the time to explore their feelings for each other. “Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked.

  A spark escaped from that contained fire, flaring with searing intensity for a brief second before it dimmed. “Count on it.”

  As she stood there, David reached over and touched her cheek. No words were spoken. None needed to be. Then he turned and walked to her door, pausing on the threshold before exiting for one more look that was loaded with meaning—and promise. And if Caroline’s legs hadn’t already been shaky, that look alone would have turned them to Jell-O.

  * * *

  David adjusted one of the red roses in the massive bouquet in his arms, then reached over and pushed Caroline’s doorbell. He hoped he wasn’t too early, but he’d stayed away as long as he could. What little sleep he’d managed had been fraught with nightmares of the possible tragic outcomes of last night’s confrontation. Those heart-pounding dreams had wrenched him awake, adrenaline pumping, his breath lodged in his chest. He hoped Caroline had fared better.

  But when she answered the door, he knew she hadn’t. There were dark circles under her eyes, and even though her cheek was no longer as puffy, a huge bruise, deep purple against her colorless skin, had replaced the redness. While she looked just as appealing in her cutoff shorts and T-shirt as she did in her usual chic, elegant wardrobe, her attire also revealed yet another large bruise, this one on her knee. Nevertheless, she managed a smile.

  “I didn’t expect you quite this soon. I thought you’d be at work. But those aren’t your usual work clothes.” She gave his worn jeans, which fit his lean hips like a second skin, and the sport shirt that hugged his broad chest a swift perusal.

  “Not today.”

  “Well...come in.” She stepped aside to let him enter, her stiff movements a clear indication of the physical trauma her body had endured. “How’s Jared?”

  “I talked to his grandmother this morning. He’s doing okay. And I also talked to the police. The two punks who attacked you were happy to spill everything to save their own skin. They gave the police enough information to link the gang leaders to a couple of recent crime sprees and keep them off the streets for the foreseeable future. Without their leadership, the police think the gang will be history.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  As she shut the door, David nodded to the crystal vase of flowers in his hands. “Where would you like these?”

  “On the coffee table in the living room. Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

  After depositing the flowers, he turned as she came up behind him. His compelling, intense eyes locked on hers, holding them captive as he took a step toward her, erasing the distance between them. When he was a whisper away, he reached up and brushed her hair back from her face, letting the silky strands glide through his fingers. Then, moving slowly—but with clear, deliberate intent—he leaned toward her and brushed his lips against hers in a brief kiss that was as light as a drifting leaf.

  When she could find enough breath to speak, Caroline opened her eyes and stared at him. “I—I guess we have some things to talk about.”

  “I guess we do.”

  At the husky timbre of his voice, her heart stopped, then raced on. “Do you w-want to sit down?”

  “Not really.” He stroked a gentle finger down her cheek. “I want to kiss you again. I’ve been waiting to do that for...for a very long time. But I guess I can wait a few more minutes.”

  When she could drag her gaze away from his, she eased onto the couch. He sat beside her, angling his body to face her. “How about if I start?” he said.

  Since she couldn’t seem to find her voice, anyway, that sounded like a good plan, so she nodded.

  Reaching out, he cradled her good hand in his, stroking the back of it with his thumbs as he spoke. “I have to be honest, Caroline. After I gave you the medallion, I never planned to see you again. I felt too guilty. You already know about the guilt I felt in connection with Michael’s death. It took me a long time to work through that. What you didn’t know about was the guilt I felt over my feelings for you.” At her puzzled look, David drew a deep breath. “The fact is, you bowled me over the first time we met. And I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Since you’d already given your heart to Michael, I tried my best to get over you. I told myself that what I felt for you was just infatuation. That in time it would fade. But the truth is, it never did. And once our paths started to cross again here in St. Louis, that original infatuation, or fascination, or obsession—or whatever it was—evolved into love. So my first instincts about you weren’t that far off base after all.”

  A troubled look crossed his face, and David shook his head. “The thing is, I felt that my feelings for you were somehow wrong, even though Michael is gone. I struggled with that for a long time. Finally I talked it over with Steve, who helped me gain a little perspective. And to acknowledge something my heart has known with absolute certainty for a very long time—that all our tomorrows were meant to be spent together. He also helped me realize that if you felt the same way, I shouldn’t let anything stand in the way of seeking out the love that the Lord seems to have guided us toward. Last Sunday in church, when you took off t
he medallion, I began to believe that maybe your feelings for me had evolved as well. That maybe, in time, you might come to love me—as I love you.”

  For most of their relationship, Caroline had sensed that David was a man of strong, but restrained, passion. A man able to mask what was in his heart, to maintain control of his emotions. She’d witnessed a few slight slips in the past several weeks. But nothing had prepared her for what she now saw. Gone were the barriers. Gone was the restraint. Gone was the mask. His eyes invited her to look deep into his heart. And the absolute love and devotion she saw there took her breath away.

  Struggling to contain her tears of happiness, Caroline reached over and touched David’s face. “I already do,” she whispered.

  Relief and thanksgiving and wonder washed over his face, intermingling, leaving joy in their wake.

  “I know I should do this right...with candlelight and flowers and music...but after last night, I don’t want to wait one more second. So...” He dropped to one knee and took her hands gently in his. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Her throat constricted with emotion, and she blinked back her tears. “I can’t believe I’ve been blessed with a second chance for a happy ending.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  A smile illuminated her face as she echoed his words from the night before. “Count on it.”

  At her positive response, a matching smile chased the anxiety from his features. “I’d like to seal this engagement with a proper kiss, but I think we’ll have to be content with something simple until that bruise goes away.” Regret tinged his voice as he surveyed her cheek.

  “I’m a fast healer.”

  Her quick comeback brought a smile to his lips, and a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “That’s good news. But in the meantime, let’s try this on for size.”

  As he leaned close to claim her lips in a tender, careful kiss, Caroline closed her eyes, savoring the gift of love, of passage from winter to spring, that this special man had offered her. With him, and with trust in the Lord, she’d found the courage to leave yesterday behind, embrace today and face tomorrow with joy. In other words, she was claiming the legacy Michael had left her by living the very philosophy that had guided his life.

  And somehow, deep in her heart, she knew he would be pleased.

  Epilogue

  “I thought you were supposed to cover stories, not star in them.”

  Jared turned with a self-conscious grin toward Steve Dempsky, who was holding the latest issue of the Chronicle. Splashed across the front page was a feature article on the Uplink intern’s recent first-place win in the national photography/journalism contest. “I’m kind of embarrassed by all the attention.”

  “Hey, enjoy the moment. It’s not every day that a St. Louisan wins such a prestigious award. You deserve all the accolades you’re getting.”

  “At least Nan seems proud. And Aunt Dara.” He looked toward the two women, who were helping themselves to pizza and cookies from the long table in the Chronicle’s conference room.

  “David told me you and your grandmother have moved in permanently with your great-aunt. How’s that working out?”

  “Great! The new school is cool. And they have an awesome photo studio.” He looked around the room, then shook his head. “I still can’t believe Ms. James went to all this effort for me after the trouble I caused.” The entire Chronicle staff had been invited to the party celebrating Jared’s win, along with his family, Charles Elliot and his former art and English teachers, and the Uplink board.

  “She’s one fine lady.”

  “Yeah.” His grandmother motioned to him, and he waved back. “Excuse me. I need to see what Nan wants.”

  As Jared walked away, David joined Steve. “Hard to believe he’s the same young man we interviewed, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll say. But you had him pegged from the beginning. All he needed was a chance.”

  “And lots of TLC,” Ella chimed in. She handed David a paper cup. “You forgot your punch.”

  “Thanks.” He took it from her, then looked across the room to where Caroline was chatting with Bill Baker. Eight weeks after the attack, the bruises on her face had disappeared, the splint was off her wrist and a long-sleeved blouse hid the four-inch scar on her arm that would take a lot longer to fade. His gaze softened, and a smile touched the corners of his lips. “Caroline can take most of the credit for the TLC. She worked with him every day. I just provided moral support.”

  “Considering that rock on her finger, I think you provided a little more than that,” Ella teased.

  He turned to her. “Only after the fact. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

  “Honey, I’m not at all concerned about when. I’m just glad it happened,” Ella retorted with a grin. “You two were made for each other. Now I’m going to get me a piece of that pizza before this hungry horde devours every last scrap.”

  As Ella headed toward the table, intent on her purpose, Steve smiled at David. “She’s right, you know.”

  Still focused on Caroline, David nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

  As if sensing his scrutiny, Caroline glanced his way. For a long second they just looked at each other. Then she turned back to Bill, said a few words and headed toward the two men.

  “Uh-oh. Looks like my cue to exit,” Steve remarked. “You know what they say about three being a crowd.”

  “You don’t have to leave,” David protested. “There’s a whole roomful of people here.”

  “Maybe. But she only has eyes for you. And the reverse is true as well. Dinner next week?”

  “It’s on my calendar. See you then.”

  With a wave to Caroline, Steve sauntered away.

  “I didn’t meant to chase Steve off,” she told David as she approached, a slight frown creasing her forehead.

  Circling her waist with his arm, he pulled her close. “He left of his own accord. Mumbling something about three being a crowd.”

  “Should I go after him?”

  His arm tightened. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Smiling, she relaxed against him. “And you claim to be his friend.”

  “Hey, good friends know when to stick close—and when to get lost. Steve’s a good friend.”

  She chuckled, then surveyed the room in satisfaction. “It’s a nice party, isn’t it? I think Jared was really touched.”

  “I know he was.”

  “He deserves it. That win is quite a coup for him. And for Uplink.”

  “I’m hoping it will smooth the way in the future for us to recruit kids like him. The ones who need us most.”

  “It can’t hurt.” Caroline let her head rest against David’s shoulder as they watched the revelers. Jared’s award-winning story and photos had been enlarged and were displayed on the one solid wall of the glassed-in conference room, and most of the guests were as impressed by the work as the contest judges had been. Although the internship had been fraught with difficulties, Caroline was glad she’d seen it through. In a way, she felt as if she’d paid back Michael’s final debt, freeing her from any lingering guilt.

  “What are you thinking?”

  David’s lips were close to her ear, his breath warm on her temple. She wanted to tell him, but she wasn’t sure how to do it in a way that didn’t sound like she was dwelling on the past. “About paying debts. And giving someone a chance,” she replied softly. “And about moving on.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  Angling her head, she looked up at him. His eyes were warm and understanding, as if he could see right into her heart and knew exactly what she was feeling. That today, this moment, marked a turning point for them. It was as if they’d come to the end of the chapter in which Michael had played a major role, and tomorrow they would turn to a n
ew, blank page waiting to be filled by the two of them.

  Michael would always be a part of their lives, of course. But David sensed that the man they’d both loved would move away now as Steve just had, giving them the space they needed to create their own story. When Steve winked, grinned and gave a thumbs-up signal, David sensed another parallel, as well: that like Steve, Michael was smiling, too.

  And as he rested his cheek against Caroline’s silky hair, he gave thanks. For the woman he loved. For work that fulfilled him. For a faith that sustained and guided him. And for a brother who had taught him to see with fresh eyes—and to risk everything for the things that mattered most.

  * * * * *

  Dear Reader,

  As I write this letter, I am enjoying the end of spring, with my office window wide-open. Air-conditioning has not yet insulated me from the fresh scent of newly mown grass nor muted the song of the birds. I love this season, which has always represented hope and new life to me. It’s a time to put the dark days of winter aside and step into the sunshine.

  In All Our Tomorrows, Caroline and David learn to do just that with their lives. And as they leave the darkness of grief behind, step into the light of hope and embrace the promise of a new beginning, they trust that the Lord will lead and guide them on their journey together. I hope that their story uplifts and inspires you.

  I’d like to invite you to visit my website, at www.irenehannon.com, where you can find news about my upcoming releases (not to mention scrumptious recipes!).

  May you enjoy this season of sunshine, and may love grace your life this summer.

  Questions for Discussion

  When David reappears in Caroline’s life, she must reevaluate her negative opinion of him, which was based on secondhand information from his brother. Have you sometimes formed opinions about people—even judged them—based on others’ interpretation and bias? Why is this dangerous—and unfair? What does the Bible tell us about judging others? Cite some instances from Scripture where the Lord speaks to this topic.