Hummingbird Lake (35 page)

“I saw you outside the hospital.”

Her eyes rounded. “You did?”

“It was a few minutes after Rachel first moved her toes. I ran down to find you, but you were gone.”

“I stood out there for over an hour, Colt, but I couldn’t make myself go inside. It perfectly illustrates my point. I travel all the way to Texas, but I can’t go the last few steps. Like I said, I am the world’s most screwed-up person.”

“You survived, Sage.”

“Yes, I did. I survived and I’m existing and I’m trying to learn to live again. But marriage?” She shook her head. “You’re pushing me, Rafferty. You’re always pushing.”

“Yeah, I tend to do that. It’s a fault of mine.”

“Well, you need to back off. I’m not ready. I may never be ready. First I have to be whole.”

“Fine, then.” He folded his arms, lifted his chin, and shrugged. “I’ll wait.”

She lifted her face heavenward and let out a noise of frustration, “Arrgh! There you go again. Listen to me, Rafferty. I won’t be pushed.”

“I’m waiting. Waiting isn’t pushing.”

“From you it is.”

“Wrong. This would be pushing.” He crossed the room, dragged her into his arms, kissed her passionately, then tilted her chin and stared down into her dazed eyes. “Marry me, Sage. I want to wake up with you each morning and lie down with you each night. You bring color into my world and happiness into my heart. You complete me.”

Tears pooled in her eyes and overflowed. “I hate you.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the salty wetness away. “Of course, that only makes you love me more.”

She laughed sadly and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I need to see a therapist.”

“I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.”

Sighing heavily, she stepped away from him. “Rose knows someone with the Department of Veterans Affairs. A psychologist in Georgia. I flew there after I left Dallas and met with her twice.”

“That’s great news, Sage.”

“She has a two-week vacation coming up. She had planned to go to Oregon, but Angel’s Rest intrigued her, and she and I cut a deal. She said if I worked up enough gumption to tell you and Rose about Africa, then she’ll spend a working vacation at Angel’s Rest. She thinks we could accomplish a lot with a handful of face-to-face sessions followed up by phone calls.”

“Excellent. What would you think about a December wedding?”

Sage doubled up her fist and punched him in the stomach. “Quit pushing. I mean it. We are not engaged!”

“All right, already. I’m not pushing. No pushing. I’m waiting. We’re not engaged.” After a moment’s pause, he added a note of worry to his voice as he asked, “Are we still sleeping together?”

She folded her arms, rolled her eyes, and sighed with disgust. “Really now, Rafferty. What do you think? Just because I have a mental problem, it doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“I knew that.” He swooped in and swept her up off her feet. Carrying her toward the bedroom, he said, “Let’s see about a proper welcome home, shall we? I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I love you. I’m trying my best to beat this thing.”

He laid her on her bed, then knelt over her. “Don’t worry about it another minute. We have all the time in the world. I’m going to prove it to you. Tonight.”

TWENTY-ONE

August arrived and with it, the annual summer arts festival. Every rental in town was booked, all the campgrounds reserved. Eternity Springs bustled with the arrival of artists and tourists, and townspeople simmered with excitement over the frequent and gratifying
ka-ching
of cash registers. Celeste’s economic improvement plan was proving to be an extraordinary success.

It was always Sage’s favorite week of the year, and this year she looked forward to it more than ever before. Colt was due back today from a two-week consulting trip to factories on the West Coast. She’d missed him terribly.

“You need to settle down,” Sarah scolded as Sage checked the street yet again for a sign of his truck. “This is supposed to be our chance to relax.”

“She’s right,” Ali Timberlake agreed. “I’m getting tired just watching you.”

Sage, Nic, Ali, Sarah, and Celeste had met at the Mocha Moose for lunch prior to delivering the Patchwork Angels’ entry into the textile competition. Judging would take place tomorrow, with the winners announced the day after that. Sage was convinced they’d at least place in the contest. Of course, as always, she was shooting for the blue ribbon.

“You guys shouldn’t be surprised.” Nic dipped a carrot
stick in ranch dressing and took a crunchy bite. “She’s this way every year before the judging.”

Celeste asked, “Which painting did you decide to enter, dear?”

Sage’s mouth twisted. Colt had urged her to hang one of her black-and-red paintings, and while she’d made progress since beginning therapy, she still had a ways to go. She wasn’t about to show the world the black-and-reds. “I settled on the one of Snowdrop.”

“I love that picture,” Nic said.

“Me too,” Sarah added. “You know, a real friend would paint Daisy and Duke for me as a pick-me-up since I’m so distraught over Lori leaving for college.”

Sarah said it as a joke, but no one laughed. With the red-letter day less than a month away, Sarah had become as big a basket case as Sage. Ali sighed and said, “Why would she paint your dogs? If Sage does a painting for you, it should be of Lori. I sent Caitlin to the photographer for a set of going-off-to-college photos.”

“I’d rather have my dogs,” Sarah said glumly. “I get along with them. They still love me.”

“Now, Sarah,” Celeste scolded.

“Don’t be stupid.” Nic polished off her turkey sandwich with finger-licking pleasure. “Lori loves you. You love Lori. What we have here is separation anxiety in full swing.”

“No.” Sarah hooked her thumb toward Sage, who had risen to check the street for Colt’s car once again. “That’s separation anxiety.”

“Stop it.” Sage gave her hair a toss. “There’s nothing wrong with missing the man I love.”

“No, there’s not,” Celeste agreed. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin, then added, “Nothing wrong with marrying the poor man, either.”

“Celeste!” Sage protested while the other women laughed.

Sarah stood and said, “This has been fun, but I need to get back to work. Let’s go deliver our baby to the contest, then Nic can get back to her babies—”

“They’re almost a year old,” Nic said. “They’re toddlers now.”

“—and I can go argue with mine,” Sarah finished. “If we wait too much longer, Colt will be back in town and Sage will be too busy making her baby to tag along with us to enter our quilt.”

“I hate you,” Sage said.

Sarah blew her a kiss as Nic lifted the quilt, folded and protected inside a pillowcase, from an empty chair. Celeste swiped the check off the table and said, “My treat.”

As they exited the Mocha Moose, Sarah and Ali discussed their pending empty nests while Nic placed a phone call to Gabe checking on the girls. Sage refrained from calling Colt again for an updated ETA, but just barely. Soon they arrived at the remodeled old firehouse that served as the home of the Eternity Arts Association. The festival entries were being hung in the theater for judging before being moved to the exhibit tent when the festival opened. At the registration table, with fanfare, Celeste filled out the entry form for the Patchwork Angels’ quilt, named
Journeys
. Sarah handed over the fifty-dollar entry fee.

The quilt was hung, lighting applied, and the group admired their work. Sage was as proud of the group project as she’d ever been of one of her own paintings. “We’re gonna win the ribbon,” she said. “You can bank on it.”

With the quilt business done, Nic and Sarah departed, but Celeste lingered while Sage entered her painting of Snowdrop into the local artists competition. After it was hung, Celeste studied it and smiled. “Your love for that
little dog shines in your work. Have you sketched Colt yet?”

Thinking of the nude pencil sketches she’d done without his knowledge while he lay sleeping, Sage opened her mouth to say no, but she couldn’t lie to Celeste. “Artistic things. Nothing for public consumption.”

Celeste chuckled, “Drawing nudes of the man? I’ll bet they’re … powerful.”

Sage felt her cheeks flush with heat, then was happy to see a distraction walk into the room. Waving, she said, “There’s Rose.”

Her sister carried a gift-wrapped box tied with pink-and-blue ribbon. Seeing Sage’s wave, she crossed the room to them. “I stopped in to see the quilt the Patchwork Angels made. Is it hung yet?”

“It’s around on the other side.”

Rose studied the painting of Snowdrop and smiled. “You are truly talented, Goober. That makes me want to pick her up and hug her. Of course, I take full credit for the fact that you’re a superstar painter, since I forced you to take those art classes when we were girls.”

Sage looked at Celeste. “She wanted something to keep me busy so she could hang out with her boyfriend at the tennis center.”

“Sometimes seemingly small decisions can have far-reaching consequences,” the older woman observed, then gazed pointedly at the box in Rose’s hand. “You have a baby gift for someone?”

“I do. I’m on my way to the post office.” Rose stood proudly as she added, “It’s a baby gift for Brandon.”

Sage couldn’t hide her surprise. “That’s a big statement from you.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“You’ve forgiven him.” Celeste reached out and gave Rose a hug. “I’m so glad for you, Rose.”

Sage saw her sister soften as she hugged Celeste in return.
“You knew exactly what to say and when to say it to show me the error of my ways, Celeste. ‘Grudges are germs to the doctor who nurses them.’ ”

“Cute,” Sage said.

“That was the catchy part.”

“No, fishing was the catchy part,” Celeste corrected. “For me, anyway.” To Sage, she added, “Your sister isn’t much of a fisherwoman, but she did open her heart to possibilities while making the effort.”

Rose nodded. “I can see why those guys at the outfitters shop say fishing can be a religious experience. Celeste took me up above Heartache Falls. It was so peaceful and beautiful and uplifting.”

“God’s country.” Celeste all but glowed as she said it.

“I realized that I’d been thinking too small. Life is big. I need to look at it in a big way. The first step in doing that was letting go of small. Holding on to my anger at Brandon was small. So”—Rose lifted up her package—“I’m going big.”

Celeste clapped her hands. “Excellent. I’m so glad. Rose, you have come a long way and, I’m proud to say, have earned this.”

She reached into her tote bag and withdrew a small white jewelry box, which she handed to Rose. Rose lifted the lid and said, “Oh, it’s pretty. It’s an angel’s wings on a chain.”

“My design,” Sage said, narrowing her eyes. “You gave her an Angel’s Rest medal?”

“A blazon, dear.” To Rose, she explained, “This is the official healing center blazon awarded to those who have embraced healing’s grace. Wear it next to your heart, Rose Anderson. Carry the grace you found here with you along whatever life path you travel.”

Rose’s expression went bright with delight. “It’s lovely. Simply lovely. What a positive sentiment and
statement it makes. Thank you, Celeste. I’ll wear it with pride and pleasure.”

She slipped the chain over her head, preened a moment, then added, “Now, if you guys will excuse me, I want to take a peek at the quilt, then get to the post office before it closes for lunch. See you all later.”

As Rose walked away, Sage crossed her arms. Her toes began to tap. “I can’t believe you gave her an Angel’s Rest medal.”

“Blazon.”

“She’s not a permanent resident. Why does she get one?”

“She earned it.”

“By sending a baby gift?”

“It’s a huge step for her.”

“I’ve made huge steps.”

“True, and I have faith that someday, maybe even someday soon, you will fully embrace healing’s grace and earn a blazon, too.”

“But not yet?”

Celeste patted her hand. “I need to move along. I have an appointment to get my hair cut in a few minutes, although I’ll probably stop back by here afterward—I love to see all the contest entries come in. It’s so exciting. Good-bye for now. I enjoyed our lunch, dear. Have a great afternoon.”

Sage pursed her lips. Her toes continued to tap. Her gaze on her departing sister, she barely noticed who walked in the door.

Colt sauntered up carrying a canvas bag. “Hey there, beautiful.”

She hardly spared him a glance. “Rose got an Angel’s Rest medal.”

Colt looked toward the door, then back at Sage. “Okay. Hey, I missed you, too. Yes, the trip went well. Thanks. I knew you’d be on pins and needles waiting for
me to get home and that you’d throw yourself into my arms and smother me with kisses, so I hurried and risked my life driving too fast over Sinner’s Prayer Pass.”

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Ouch.” He clapped a hand against his chest and said, “If I start to bleed out from the wound, would you tell my brother that he gets my baseball card collection?”

Sage had the grace to be embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.” She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “Welcome home, Rafferty. I missed you.”