A Love Worth Waiting For and Heaven Knows (16 page)

“That's right,” Nanna agreed like a no-nonsense general. “You'd better follow my orders, too, young man. You'll say hello and get to bed. Where do you want Harold to put the luggage?”

“Hello, son.” Harold looked exhausted but stood as straight as ever, not weighed down too much by the luggage he carried. “You tell me where you want this.”

“Down the hall, second door on your left.” He was surprised that Harold had come, too. They hadn't exactly gotten along. “It's good of you to be here.”

“You're family now, or will be once I get your grandmother to wear my wedding ring. There's nowhere else I'd be.” With that, he disappeared down the hall.

Okay, so Harold wasn't a bad guy, after all. Definitely good enough for Nanna.

“It's too late to scold you properly for not telling me about this sooner,” Nanna scolded anyway. “So all I'm going to say is shame on you, and leave it
at that. Now get to bed, because morning will be here before you know it. Hope, would you mind heating some tea water for me? I always get lost in that big fancy kitchen.”

“Sure thing.” Hope hugged him one last time, and he felt what she didn't say.

They were a family. They would stand by him no matter what the prognosis. They were there to lean on, if he needed them.

He'd spent the night with his Bible, preparing for the worst possible outcome. Now, with his family here, he was ready for the best.

“J
ulie.” It was Hope Ashton Sheridan standing in the hallway, closing the door to Noah's hospital room. “I'm glad you made it. Noah's out of recovery. The mass was even bigger than they thought, and they wound up taking out his entire gallbladder, but he's doing great.”

“Thank God.” Julie hadn't realized how worried she'd been. No,
worried
wasn't the word.
Terrified.
“I wanted to be here earlier, but my flight was delayed. I'm just so thankful he's okay.”

Her knees were strangely weak. She had to sit down. Stumbling, she made it into the nearby waiting room and found a chair. Her overnight bag slid from her shoulder and hit the floor. The tiny vase she held felt as if it were made of iron, so she set it on the nearby magazine table. Boy, was she shaky or what?

“I'm tired,” she explained to Hope. “It was a tough flight.”

“I understand.” Was that sympathy in her eyes?

Okay, so that's one person I haven't fooled. Julie rubbed her hands over her face. “Is Nora in with him?”

“No. Harold made her go get a sandwich in the cafeteria. She's pretty worried about him. We all are.”

Me, too. Julie bit back the words, not comfortable revealing more of her heart. “Is he awake?”

“Still sleeping. Why don't you go in and sit with him? I was on the way to make a call. I need to check in with my husband. Maybe you could cover for me until I come back?”

“Sure. Whatever you need.” She could do it. She was Noah's friend. After all, wasn't she wise enough to keep control of her feelings—this time?

Clutching the bud vase, Julie gathered her courage, steeled her heart and stepped into the small room. It was quiet and dim. Noah was asleep on his back, his hair dark against the pillow. Several blankets covered his big masculine physique. Lying there so still, he looked vulnerable.

Oh, Noah. She flew to his side. Her fingers ached to brush across the high cut of his cheekbones and down his face to the strong line of his jaw. She yanked her hand back in time—he wasn't hers to touch.

Lord, please protect him and keep him safe,
she prayed.
Because Noah is my heart.

She leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. A featherlight brush of a kiss, so he wouldn't wake. Then she set the bud vase with the single bloom on the table where twenty other arrangements were crowded together. They were all elaborate, expensive bouquets, a few with colorful balloons swinging overhead. From friends, she figured.

Her single flower looked unimpressive and lonely. She almost snatched it back, but something seemed to whisper to her to leave it, so she did.

Then, after one final look, she walked out of Noah's room and closed the door behind her.

“Julie!” It was Noah's grandmother, leaving Granddad's side to rush down the hall. “Oh, did you hear the good news? It's not cancer.”

“Are they sure?”

“Yes! Isn't that wonderful? Praise the Lord.” Nora wrapped Julie into a tight, comforting, wonderful grandmotherly hug. “I am about to dance a jig of joy. My beloved grandson is going to make a full recovery!”

“I'm so thankful.” Julie stepped away, trembling, and Nora pushed into the room. As the door closed, Julie could see the older woman settling into a chair at Noah's bedside, taking his hand in hers, tenderly.

Julie ached with gratitude. Tears stung her eyes.
Thank you, Lord, for sparing him, for holding Noah in the palm of Your hand.

There was no need for her to stay. So she retrieved her overnight bag from the waiting room, said goodbye to her granddad and walked away.

 

“Julie?” Noah struggled away from a dream and opened his eyes. The wisps of the dream faded. Impressions of her presence, soft as a new day dawning. Of her kiss, gentle and reverent on his brow. Her scent of strawberries lingered faintly in the air. That was some powerful dream, he decided.

Someone was holding his hand. Nanna. He didn't need to turn his head to know it was her. He squeezed her fingers, and she held on so tightly.

His head was a little woozy and his vision fuzzy. He wasn't feeling so great, but the sight of her was like warm chocolate on a cold day. Okay, in truth, for a split second, with the scent of Julie's perfume in his memory, he'd dared to hope she'd be the one sitting at his bedside.

But Nanna was, and he loved her for it. She looked tired and drained. He was sorry for that, and he held on to her more tightly.

“Nanna, how are you? Are you—?” He squinted to bring her into better focus. Were there tears in her eyes?

It was bad news. He knew it. He felt it like a cold wave that rolled down his spine.
Help me make this
easier for Nanna, Lord.
That was his first wish. Then he prayed for himself.
Help me not to waste another single moment I have left on this earth.

“Oh, my dear boy. It's good to have you with us.” Nanna scooted her chair closer.

“How can I sleep for long, with such a beautiful woman at my side? You look exhausted. Where's Harold? He's supposed to be taking care of you.”

“He's in the waiting room. There's no need to fuss. I'm fine, just fine. I don't think I've been this good in a long, long time.” Her voice trembled, and two tears trailed down her cheek.

“You must have heard from the lab. I don't want you to be sad—”

“Sad? Why, no. The reports came back negative. Negative!” More tears spilled down her beautiful face. “I don't know if I've ever been more grateful. My dear grandson is going to be just fine.”

He closed his eyes. It wasn't cancer? It wasn't cancer. Relief washed through him, and he was afraid to believe it. But Nanna was crying again, big, happy tears. It was true. He was being given a second chance. A new beginning to his life.

Thank You, Lord.

One thing was for sure. He was going to keep the promise he made to God. Starting right now, this instant, he wasn't going to waste one more minute.

A woman knocked on the partly opened door,
balancing two rather large florist arrangements. Word sure had gotten out about the “small procedure” he'd told his vice presidents about, and his attorney, just in case something had gone terribly wrong during surgery. Corporate gifts, no doubt, judging by the apparent cost of the arrangements.

“Please, excuse me. I'll just put these over here with the others,” the friendly volunteer said as she crossed the room to the table, where way too many flowers had given their lives for him.

Maybe he'd have the nurses give the flowers to people on the floor who would enjoy them.

“Oh, this was obviously delivered to the wrong room, Mr. Ashton.” The woman looked embarrassed as she pulled a single glass vase from the vast forest of flowers. “This couldn't be for you. I'll just take it out of your way.”

It was a single white rosebud.

Julie. He knew it in a heartbeat, all the way down to his soul. He
hadn't
been dreaming. She
had
been here. Who else would have given him a single white rose?

“Wait. I want that. It's for me,” he assured the woman, and she handed it over uncertainly.

The vase felt smooth and cool in his hand. The small white bud was closed tight, but it was perfect. There was no card because it had been delivered in person. He smelled the faint, faint scent of Julie's strawberry hand lotion on the vase.

Nanna patted at her tears with a cloth handkerchief she'd taken from her jumbo-size purse. “Hope told me that Julie brought that.”

“She's here?” Play it cool, keep the excitement out of your voice.

“No, she went home. Heard you would be fine and said she had to go. Something about the annual food drive, but I didn't hear it all. She took out of here like a woman in a hurry.” Nanna sounded innocent—she was very good at that. “Or like a woman with certain feelings for a certain man. Not that I'm one to name any names.”

“Don't take so much pleasure in this,” he told her, wincing when awful pain jackhammered through his midsection.

Julie left, did she? Now why would she fly halfway or more across the country just to deliver a single white rose? The same kind of flower he happened to buy her in Colorado?

What would have happened if he'd had the courage to tell her his true feelings on the flight back to Montana that day? And if he'd said those frightening words—
I love you.
Would she have turned away?

He'd been afraid then. But he wasn't afraid now. His past was gone, and he was a new man. And, being a goal-oriented, type A personality, he knew exactly what he wanted from life—Julie. She was the woman he intended to marry, who was going
to have his children and, God willing, the woman he was going to grow old with.

His sister had found happiness, after sharing the same childhood. With God's help, so could he.

“M
isty, you are a lifesaver,” Julie said into the phone as she padded past the unlit Christmas tree in her living room, through the first meager splash of early-morning sun on the hardwood floor and went straight to the refrigerator. “I'm going to be indebted to you forever.”

“Not forever. Only until my wedding reception, when I need someone to make sure everything goes without a hitch. Wanna guess who I'll call?”

“I think I already know.” She grabbed the carton of hazelnut creamer and headed directly to the coffeepot.

She thanked Misty again, said goodbye and dug her favorite mug out of the cupboard. The big, double-size one. She needed caffeine and lots of it, enough to get her through the mid
morning ceremony. This was her granddad's wedding day!

She savored that first sip, inhaling the rich coffee smell, enjoying the sweetness from the creamer, letting the warm liquid wake her up. Then the doorbell rang, shattering her perfect moment of peace.

She wasn't expecting anyone. Maybe it was Granddad. He could need help with his tie. He'd been a cowboy all his life, and not as experienced in tying ties as men who worked in offices. Like Noah.

Now, see how she'd gone and worked Noah into her thoughts? It just proved she wasn't as over him as she'd prayed to be. What was it going to be like seeing him today? He was supposed to be flying in this morning for the wedding. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Only one thing was for sure—she was truly thankful he was healthy.

She yanked open the front door. A bouquet of white rosebuds—what had to be two dozen of them—was staring her in the face, practically obscuring the man holding the vase.

“Clifford? Is that you?” She could barely recognize the man who owned the local floral shop. “What are you doing with those? Wait—”

She could see past the enormous arrangement of flowers to the blue delivery van parked in her snowy driveway. The side door was wide open, revealing vase after vase of roses. Every single last one of them was white.

“Oh, no! Clifford, this is all wrong.” She couldn't believe it. And after all the care Nora had taken ordering the flowers. Julie should know—she'd gone with Nora and Hope to the florist regularly for the last two months.

“Sorry, Julie, but this order is correct. If you don't mind, I've got to get these delivered. I got a busy day ahead, as you know.” Clifford sounded apologetic, yet determined.

Didn't he understand? “The roses are supposed to be blush pink. And why are you delivering them here? They have to go to the church.”

“That's not what I have on my delivery slip.” Clifford shouldered past her. “Where do you want these?”

“Back in your van.” How could a mistake like this have happened? “Clifford, no, don't put them there.”

“I told you, I've got a whole van to unload.” He straightened, leaving the bouquet on her coffee table. “You sure don't seem very happy about this.”

She was still in her sweats and slippers. How happy could she be? “Can I see the delivery order? I'm going to call Nancy. She'll get this straightened out for me.”

“Don't bother, Julie. She'll agree with me.” Clifford headed out the door, leaving it wide open as his assistant came in carrying two more bouquets.

Julie didn't understand. How could this be? She
grabbed the phone, but the clerk who answered explained that Nancy wasn't available. She was at the church setting up for Nora's wedding.

“Well, that's it, then.” Clifford edged the twelfth vase of white roses onto the edge of the end table. “Boy, aren't those something? That billionaire sure must think a lot of you.”

“The billionaire? You mean Noah Ashton? He sent these?” She didn't believe it. “Clifford, come back here.”

“Sorry. Got more flowers to deliver. See ya!” Clifford hopped off her porch as if his shoes were on fire.

Noah did
this?
She closed the door, turned around and slumped against it. Why would he send her twenty-four dozen roses?

The doorbell rang, and she jumped. Startled, she had the knob turning in her hand before she could think. There he was, standing on her porch, in a pair of worn jeans and a black wool coat, healthy and alive and strong. He looked completely recovered and entirely different from the vulnerable man lying in a hospital bed.

What was he doing here? She'd said goodbye to him. Closed her heart to him. Walked away.

And he dared to give her white roses, reminding her of their trip and how she loved him.

Pain shredded her heart. No, she wasn't going to do this. Pretend that an apology would make it
okay, and they could be good friends again. Maybe he was hoping she'd take him skiing. Well, she didn't want to be his skiing buddy.

Mr. Noah Ashton would just have to go and torment someone else. She grabbed the door and gave it a hard shove. Something stopped her.

Noah's foot against the door frame. “If you close the door, then you're going to miss what I've come to say.”

“Noah, I've got to get ready for the wedding.”

“This won't take long. It's important. Please.” He pushed open the door, gently, and walked into her home. Into her life. Into her heart.

“You can't come in here. I've got to—”

“Julie.” He took her left hand in his, his grip tender, his touch warm, the deep affection in his voice as real as the floor at her feet. “I know you came to my hospital room, and I know why you didn't stay.”

“You had your family there. You didn't need me, and I had to get back—”

“Julie.” He brushed a kiss to her cheek, soft and surprising and gentle. “There's something I should have told you when we were standing on the mountain watching the sunrise. After I kissed you, I should have said, ‘Julie, I love you.'”

“No.” Tears burned her eyes. “You can't push your way in here and say you love me. You can't do that to me—”

“Sure I can. I brought flowers. I'm trying to
make this right.” His smile was genuine, his touch sure.

Right? Nothing could ever make her the same. She loved him, and now everything was different. What she wanted, what she needed. And he wanted a romance. Well, she didn't. She wouldn't lay her heart on the line for the wrong man, no matter how wonderful. How perfect.

To her horror he knelt before her, right there in her rose-scented living room, and pulled a black ring box from his pocket.

She stared at the small box that fit in the palm of his hand. No, this wasn't possible. He wasn't going to propose to her. He wouldn't be that cruel. Would he?

She started to back away, but her feet wouldn't move. Her mind was spinning so fast she couldn't object as he took her left hand in his.

“Julie, I love you.” He was kneeling before her like a promise kept, steady and dependable.

No, this couldn't be real. She wouldn't believe it, even when she could see the hope in his dark, tender eyes. A horrible rushing filled her ears.

“Please,” he asked sincerely, truly, “will you be my wife?”

“No!” How could he do this to her? Him and his jet and his twenty-four dozen perfect long-stemmed roses, and his billion-dollar bank account, or portfolio, or whatever it was rich men had. “You know I can't marry you.”

“What?” He looked crestfallen.

That made it worse. She felt horrible and hopeless and broken. She watched the great hope in his eyes fade increment by increment until only hurt remained, and she could see it deep. There was his heart, tender and true.

“What do you mean?” He sounded bewildered.

As if she'd simply leap at the chance to be a billionaire's wife, without looking to the future and to what really mattered. Anger ripped through her like a gigantic claw, leaving her feeling raw and torn apart. “I said no. I can't be your wife. Look at me.”

“I'm looking.” He stayed on one knee. “I see a beautiful woman, the only woman who has ever beaten me in a competition. The only woman I've been involved with who has kept her promises and never broken a trust. The one woman who stole my heart when I wasn't looking, and so I'm here before you, asking to spend the rest of my life with you. I truly love you.”

“Stop saying that.” How was she going to go on with her normal, ordinary life now? Once her grandfather's wedding was over and Noah flew on his shining white-and-gold jet back across the continent, how was she ever going to be able to pick her chin off the floor and pretend her heart wasn't shattered beyond repair? He loved her. That only made everything worse.

“Julie.” He didn't move, gazing up at her with all those diamonds glittering against black velvet. “I know you love me. I know it. Don't you realize I'm on your side? That from now on, that's where I'm going to stand, and my feet are never going to stray. Where you go, I go. What you want, I want. We have love, and that's everything.”

“Sure, you say that now.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, holding on tight, but she couldn't comfort herself. There was no comfort for this. “But what about in six weeks? Or maybe two minutes before the wedding?”

“What I say, I mean. You can always count on me, Julie. I will never hurt you like that. Never abandon you at the altar or anywhere else. Not after we're married. For better and worse, I'll be there for you.” He stood, pulling her into his arms with such care. “I promise.”

She buried her face in the soft wool of his jacket. She breathed in the scents of the spicy aftershave he always wore. She really loved that scent. She truly loved everything about this man. She was safe here, tucked against his chest, and it felt as if she belonged in his arms forever and ever.

It took all her courage to step away. “I drive a pickup. You travel in a jet. I don't see how this can work out. I wouldn't be happy in New York. Montana is my home. This is my community, where I belong. I teach the children here. I go to
church here. My lifelong friends are here. My family is here. I can't leave, and you can't stay.”

“I can't stay? I think I can. There's no law against it, is there?” He brushed her cheeks with his thumb, brushing away the tears she hadn't realized were there. “You know, I spoke to God before I came. He seemed to think Montana was a good place for me to be.”

“Oh, right. For now. But you'll start missing your company and your friends and your apartment.” She wanted forever. It wasn't possible. He couldn't see it, but she did. She'd been left at the altar. She had returned three engagement rings. How could she possibly give up Noah's ring?

“What if I told you I sold my company and the jet with it? You don't believe me, do you? Okay, well, I did. I also sold my apartment to my assistant, whom I promoted before I left. As for my friends,
you
are my best friend. Please, be my wife, too.”

“I know you think you'll be happy here, and I'm sure you mean it now. But you're going to change your mind.”

“Julie.” His touch, gentle against her cheek. His kiss, as precious as a new day. “Just say yes, and let me prove it to you. I promise you that I am the one man who will never leave.”

She
wanted
to believe him. She really did. She'd give almost anything to say the words he wanted to hear, the words she ached to say.

She couldn't marry him. This small-town life in rural Montana was the path the Lord had chosen for her. But it wasn't Noah's. How could it be? God had given him intelligence and brilliant business sense. Gifts that would go to waste here, where there were no giant corporations to run. Just modest hometown businesses that had been in families for generations.

She couldn't marry him. She refused to watch him grow restless and bored in a town that was too small for him.

Keep me on the right path,
she prayed, as she opened the door and said the words she had to say. It was for his own good. And for hers. “Goodbye, Noah.”

He snapped the ring box closed, clutching it in his fist. “No. I won't accept this. I hurt you by not saying this before. I won't do it by leaving you now.”

“Staying would hurt me more. Just go.” She set her chin, all fight, all determination. She was doing the right thing. It was that simple. “I mean it. I want you to leave.”

He took a deep breath, as if the fight had gone out of him. His dependable shoulders slumped just a little as he marched past her. His boots knelled on her porch.

When he turned to face her, he was full of hurt. “I love you. You can push me away, but I'll keep coming back. Whatever it takes, I will prove to you that I'm here for now. For always.”

He
would
make her believe it. He would show her the true depths of his commitment to her. One day she would see that she was his heart. And always would be.

Simple as that.

 

At the organ, Marj Whitly began the first strains of “Here Comes the Bride.” “Aahs” broke out in the crowded church from the altar all the way to the back row at the first sight of the beautiful bride, draped in a light gray gown. On her arm was her grandson, James Noah Ashton the Third, in a dark gray tux.

“What a dream,” Misty whispered, clinging to Julie's arm.

Exactly. Julie steeled her heart. That's what this morning had been. A dream. Surely nothing real, nothing that she ought to build her future on. Noah had been through a life-or-death experience, and he was naturally grasping at whatever he thought would make everything better. Yes, that was it. That's what he was doing by proposing to her. He was at a crossroads in his life, and he was making the choice he thought would bring him happiness.

She was making the right choice for both of them.

He looked so fine, with his dark hair tamed and the cut of the expensive suit perfectly fitted to his wide, muscular frame. No one could doubt the look of pride and love on his face as he escorted his grand
mother down the aisle. Or the respect he showed when he gave the bride to her waiting groom.