“Caught ya, Lilly!”
Giggling.
“You guys set me up!” He could hear the good-natured humor mixed with a tinge of defeat in her tone. Just the resonance of her voice brought a smile to his face. His cheeks were going to hurt by the end of the night if he wasn’t careful.
The trio passed a few feet away. Blood rushed so violently in his ears, he was certain it would give him away. But soon all was quiet around him. He rose to his feet and ran to the closest tree. He heard the girls at camp, announcing their prisoner.
He’d seen the fire in Lilly’s eyes when the teams split up. He’d tried to catch up with her, but she was gone before he could blink. No way was Lillian content to sit in jail.
For the first time since the game started, Chuck had a spark of interest in seeking out the treasure. And it certainly wasn’t a flag.
***
A crack in the woods snapped Lillian’s head around. She searched the darkness, but couldn’t see anything. Either it was an animal or…there. Someone was crouched low in the brush, just out of the reach of firelight, waving to her.
“Lilly!” the voice barely carried on the breeze. But it was enough.
She sat up and glanced around at the jailers. Both Joy and Tim stood by the fire, talking and warming their hands. Lilly kept one hand on the table—in jail—and stretched the rest of her body as close as she could to the brush where he hid. Chuck’s fingers were close to hers when Joy’s voice rang out over the rush in Lillian’s ears.
“Hey!”
Chuck leapt forward the rest of the way and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Lillian sprung from the table, laughing as Joy called out for anyone near, that their prisoner had escaped.
A half a dozen girls popped out of the brush and gave chase. Chuck led the way, weaving in and out of the trees. Lillian’s smile froze onto her face as they picked up speed across the clearing, and Chuck turned left—away from the tree trunk where Lillian had been captured. The voices behind them finally faded, but Chuck kept on until they were sure no one followed. They stopped to catch their breath, bent over with hands on their knees.
“Holy cow, I can’t believe we outran teenage girls,” Lillian gasped.
“It’s no wonder you did. You’ve been training with all of your running lately.”
“True, but I got a side cramp. Another few minutes, and you would have had to leave me to the enemy to save yourself,” she laughed, raising her arms and folding them on top of her head, opening her burning lungs.
Chuck took a few more deep breaths. The stars cast just enough light to see the whites of his eyes and his teeth. He moved, shaking his head, she guessed.
“Never.”
“Never what?” she asked, wondering how they were going to get around the next clearing to where she guessed the girls has actually hidden their flag.
Suddenly Chuck’s hands cupped her cheeks, and the air went still. The crickets and frogs paused—for just a second—and the stars held back their twinkle.
“I would fight for you anytime, anywhere, Lillian.”
I would fight for you.
The sounds of the forest rushed back in, roaring in her ears. “You would?” she whispered, struck again by the outpouring of love lavished on her.
His thumbs traced her cheekbones, his fingers twitching beneath her braids. “Mmhmm. You’re worth fighting for. Worth waiting for. You are a treasure.” He leaned his forehead onto hers, and she closed her eyes, a smile of wonder playing on her lips.
“We can do this, Lilly. I was a fool to let you walk away. I should have been at your door begging you to give us a chance until you agreed.”
She set her hands on the backs of his, trapping them against her face. “You had some business to attend to. I’m glad that I wasn’t in the way of that. But Chuck…what if…what if we can’t, you know…”
“Keep our hands off each other?” he quipped.
She didn’t laugh. “Yeah.”
“Lilly, I only know that we can go to the Lord for help. He won’t abandon us if we turn to Him in everything.”
She closed her eyes, drinking in the truth of that. She kept them closed as Chuck continued to speak words of love to her, tenderly healing the broken places with his kindness. “I have dreamt of a woman I could love and serve with. Who I could laugh with, joke with, learn with. Someone that could understand the complications grief can bring into a life, even years after tragedy. Someone who can show me when I’m being an idiot. Lilly, you are so much more than I ever could have hoped for. More than I deserve. You are my treasure, the one my heart loves. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Chuck, I had so much to learn. Tonight, God used you to show me something I’d held back for years. I finally see and understand His love. And you challenged me this morning with your devotion. To listen, obey, and act. In the hard stuff and the wonderful stuff,” she whispered, tilting her face upward. “I have loved you for a long time. I was just too afraid to give myself over to it.”
Chuck’s breath hitched. His eyes caught the starlight as they crinkled at her. He leaned close, just a breath away, and paused.
“May I?” he asked.
She laughed on a breath, full of joy, and peace, and hope. Delicious hope.
“I wish you would,” she answered.
And then his lips were on hers…and she was home.
Epilogue
“Did you ever think you would get me into geocaching?” Lillian asked as she and Chuck took what was probably their last drive of the season with the Jeep’s top off, the comfortable autumn wind kissing their cheeks.
Though it was late October, and they had enjoyed a few cold snaps earlier in the month, a final burst of summer was basking the Treasure Valley in its heat. At Chuck’s urging, Lillian had sent out a message to her tenants through a neighbor app, inviting them to the rooftop for a spontaneous dinner that night. But first, Chuck had insisted on the drive.
“Not after the way you mocked me at first,” he said, reaching to squeeze her shoulder.
Though the weather was warm, she wore a light long-sleeved cotton t-shirt. Still, his touch burned through the shirt, stirring her as it always did. They rode in companionable silence for another mile before she merged onto the freeway. When Chuck had met her at Nan’s after his weekly Bible study, he’d leaned down to brush a kiss against her mouth before sitting down.
“How was your time with Tanner?” Lillian had asked, still amazed at the story God was writing in her boyfriend’s life.
Near the end of August, Chuck had begun to feel God’s urging to contact Tanner. The gift of peace he’d been given in forgiving Tanner had calmed Chuck. He didn’t rush, but rather prayed and waited, knowing that if that was God’s idea—not his—that the Lord would reiterate it. And He had, many times, over the following weeks. From Pastor Ryan’s sermon, to an offhanded comment made by a stranger Chuck met at a gas station, to a note he received from one of his dad’s old friends, Chuck was encouraged over and over that his work with Tanner was not done. Not by a long shot. He reached out to him, and soon, they were meeting Saturday mornings to discuss questions Tanner had about the notes in Charles Davis’ Bible.
“It was good,” he said as he took a seat and stole a bite of her blueberry muffin. “He has really good questions. You can absolutely see why he planned to be a lawyer before the accident.”
Lillian’s eyes softened. Even the way he said accident had changed. As if the Lord had smoothed the edges of such a jagged reality.
“But,” Chuck swallowed and leaned across the table, “that, my Pepe Le Pew, is not why I asked you to meet me here.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward at the nickname she couldn’t get him to shake free, “I figured as much when you told me to be ready for a drive in the country.” She pointed to the hat on her head. “I hope you mean in the Jeep because that sunshine is calling my name.”
“Absolutely. I need you to drive so I can read the directions.”
&n
bsp; They both knew that she was not the best at following maps. Even with the app where a nice voice would calmly direct her to the route, Lilly found a way to get lost.
She took a last sip of coffee. “Okay. Directions for what?
Chuck stood and reached out to grasp her hand. “I found a new geocache in Kuna.”
She gasped in delight, “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Well, hopefully you want it to mean chips, queso, and street tacos for lunch.”
She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You had me at queso.”
Chuck tapped on his knee as they left the freeway, and he directed her up Ten Mile Rd. Lilly quirked a brow at him. “I don’t recall seeing you this eager to get to a geocache before.”
Chuck’s lips lifted, but he kept his eyes on the road. “It’s new. We could be the first people there. How cool is that?”
Lillian shrugged. Sure, she liked geocaching, but was much more interested in the hiking, the searching, and the stolen kisses with Chuck than the actual finding the container part. But she could see why he thought this was exciting. Lillian only hoped it wasn’t on the outskirts of Kuna’s boundaries; she was hungry.
Chuck sat up and leaned forward, told her to slow down. She looked back and forth across the road, but didn’t see anywhere to stop. Just fields that had been harvested and plowed, the rich earth void of the brilliant green stalks of corn and golden fields of wheat that had been there only weeks before. It wasn’t even November, and Lillian could hardly wait for Spring.
Chuck told her to pull over to the right, and she obliged, only seeing the dirt road he directed her to when she was nearly on it. It looked a lot like the one they’d found last summer, only void of the tell-tale crooked For Sale sign.
Two overgrown trees shaded the entrance of the road, their branches sweeping over the Jeep when it passed through them. A browned leaf scratched Lillian’s cheek. Soon the trees cleared and Lillian could see it was the same field as before. Ridiculously, her heart sank, disappointed that since the sign was missing it had most likely been bought.
It’s probably slated to be the next big neighborhood in Kuna, she thought, disheartened. What a waste of such a beautiful piece of property.
Chuck held his phone in front of him, eyes flickering from the screen to the landscape. “Okaaaay, right here,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the Jeep before it came to a complete stop.
Lillian laughed. “Calm down, Chuck. You won’t get to it any faster killing yourself.”
He ignored her, sweeping one leg through the tall, withering grass, then another, brows drawn in concentration.
Lilly followed less enthusiastically, more interested in the land. The dirt road continued on the same trek through the middle before it turned sharply to the right and circled the perimeter. She’d only been here for a short tick of time in daylight hours. The rest had been spent stargazing and cuddling up with Chuck as he talked about his dad that special night. Now, she saw that it was even more perfect than she’d first thought.
A creek, or maybe it was one of the ditches that acted as a unique drainage system the farmers used, ran along the front and curled through the land. She could see right where the charming white farmhouse could go. Where they could pen chickens, goats, possibly cows at some point. The garden—acres of it—would stretch along the creek. An orchard could cover the back half. It would have been perfect.
“Found it!” Chuck called, making her jump with his sharp burst of enthusiasm.
Lillian turned back and drank in the joyful relief on his face. She chuckled and walked to where he stood holding the small grey cylinder. She had learned over months of scouting with Chuck that the containers came in all shapes and sizes. This one looked like one she’d seen online once, and knew it to have a magnetic, waterproof lid.
“And were you the first?”
Chuck grinned and held it out to her. “Why don’t you do the honors?”
Lillian accepted the container and tugged the lid off, shoulders drooping when she saw a scroll tucked inside.
“Bummer, dude. Not the first. But there’s not much in here.” She reached in to grasp the papers between two fingers and pulled them out.
Chuck stepped close, just behind her, his chin on her shoulder. She unfurled the papers and squinted. “Maybe the person who put it here left a note or a map for another cache close by?” Lillian suggested. Her eyes scanned the papers.
No, it was some sort of legal form. She shuffled to the back pages. They were black and white copies of what must be aerial photos of the area. She recognized the willow trees and creek. She flipped to the first page again, trying to read the legal jargon. The only words she recognized were “land” “deed” and then “Charles Edward Davis, Jr.”
Lillian’s face scrunched in confusion and turned toward him, her eyes still on the papers in her hand. “What? Chuck, this has your name on it. I don’t understand what—” But Chuck wasn’t standing behind her anymore.
He was kneeling.
And smiling.
And holding—oh my goodness—a ring box.
Lillian’s eyes widened. She dropped the canister and papers at her feet. Flustered, she reached to gather them, hands shaking. The papers slipped through her fingers again, and Chuck finally reached a hand to grasp hers.
“Lillian, stop. It’s fine. They’re just copies.”
Lillian took a deep breath, straightened slowly, and met his gaze. Her eyes bounced from his to the ring and back again. Staring at the small solitaire in a simple white gold setting, she asked, “What do the papers say?”
“They say that I own this land, Lillian.”
Her eyes snapped to his and locked onto them. “What?” she breathed.
Chuck’s eyes twinkled. “I bought the field, Lillian. I bought the field to acquire the bride. At least, I hope…”
A breeze inched by them, taking her breath with it. Lillian dropped to her knees in the soil, eye level with his chin. “You what?” she asked again, a small laugh escaping simultaneously with the tears that swelled in her eyes.
Chuck cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “Lillian, when we came here this summer, and you told me about your dreams, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to live life—that life—with you. I want to work alongside you here, in this place. I want to raise a family with you. So, I made some calls. With the trust fund my mom set up for me with my dad’s life insurance, I had enough to put a down payment on the land. I signed the papers last week.” He glanced at the ring box trembling slightly in his hand. “I bought this the day we got back from camp.”
Lillian choked on a joyful sob, her hands coming up to cup his face. His wonderful, beautiful face.
“So, Lillian, will you? Be my bride?” That floppy Labrador smile that she loved so much crept onto his lips. The one she’d kissed many times already and, now, would kiss for the rest of her life.
She leaned forward and did just that, soaking in the feel of him. His arms came behind her back, and she deepened the kiss. After a moment Chuck pulled back.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, eyes competing with the twinkling diamond.
“Chuck, I would live in a tent to be with you. You didn’t need to buy this place. But I want to do all of that with you. Absolutely, positively, most assuredly—YES.”
Chuck kissed the place where her lips curled into her cheek. He slipped the ring on her finger. They stared down at it, the early afternoon sun catching the stone and splitting it into a thousand rainbows on their faces as they met for another kiss and another.
And another.
Author’s Notes
A short note about Chuck and Pastor Ryan’s sermons:
I am blessed to go to an incredible church where I am encouraged and challenged in my faith each week. I’m also an old lady that listens to old Pastor Chuck Smith sermons on my MP3 Player (see? old lady) on my walks or if I’m grocery shopping by myself. In this book, ma
ny truths that I’ve gleaned from Pastor Smith and my own pastor, Troy Drake, make an appearance as Chuck and Lillian wrestle with their understanding of God and who He is. The words are my own, but I wouldn’t have had the insight without the teachings of these two men. I received hearty permission from Pastor Drake to share, and I’m hoping that Chuck Smith doesn’t mind. He has taught me so much about our Lord and I am grateful.
***
There was a time in my life that I greatly identified with Lillian.
More than any other character, in fact.
I was the woman at Bible college that was told no Christian man would want her.
I was the woman that foolishly believed that.
I was the woman that lived in sin and great sadness and regret until I called out to be rescued.
After months of fruitlessly trying to climb my way out of the pit I had dug with my own hands, I sank to the bottom in despair, covering my head in shame with hands muddied from my efforts. The walls were too high, the sides too slick. I will never forget my call to the Lord for rescue. The lonely night, sitting on the floor of my tiny apartment hallway, crying out to Him. He heard me and, as Psalm 18 describes, He rescued His child. He offered me grace, and though it took years to fully understand, I grasped it and held on tight.
And He redeemed me. He made me new and gave back the years that the locusts had eaten. He has continued to sanctify me.
I began Even If years ago, trying to express this rescue. But Chuck’s story was always allusive. I knew his father had died in a drunk driving accident. In the first draft, he was very one dimensional about his loss. The story has been on my heart, and though I would pick it up periodically, the pieces wouldn’t come together.
In the last two years, three of my dear friends have lost their husbands in unexpected and sudden ways. My mom was diagnosed with a lung disease, and at the time of this writing, she is on a waiting list for a double lung transplant. My husband woke up a year ago with double vision and was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that’s affecting his muscles. He lost his job as a police officer and is most likely not able to work again.
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