Everyday Blessings (4 page)

Aubrey put her arm around her stepsister. “Did you get some sleep?”

“I'll be fine. I—” Danielle shoved the business card in Aubrey's direction. “I told him you or Ava would be in touch about that donation. It was nice of him, don't you think?”

“I do. And don't worry, I'll take care of it.” Aubrey took the card, wrapping her hand around her sister's. She willed all the sympathy she had into a prayer.

It was hard to know what exactly to pray for. For Jonas to miraculously recover? For Danielle's marriage and family to be whole and happy, as before? To turn back time so that Jonas would not have been shot? Some things not even God could change. The past was one of those things.

Please, Father, make this come out all right
.

But she didn't see how. All she could see was her sister's tenuous act of holding things together, and the remembrance of William Corey's sadness. She could still picture the steel-straight line of his
spine and the inherent sorrow that made him seem so distant and impersonal. But his story clung to her like skin.

How sad is this? she thought, wanting to push it all away like an empty plate. If only she could get this ordeal out of all of their lives. She hated dealing with this constant sorrow and sadness. She liked to look at the positive side of life. She hated the heartbreak and woe that had permeated their family and stolen Jonas from his wife and children.

“Are you all right?” Danielle asked in concern; Danielle who always thought of others even when her world was unraveling at the seams.

“Don't worry about me. I'm just overwhelmed.” Aubrey shrugged. “You know me. I hate that things like this ever happen. I would want there to be no hurt and loss in the world. Just goodness and sunshine for everyone.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me. If only that were true.” Tears brimmed in her dark blue eyes. “What I'd give if we could make that true, but life is a mixed bag of blessings. Some days it's more than I want to face, but that doesn't change the fact that I have to.”

A faint bell dinged at the end of the hallway, echoing against the long empty corridor. The light above one of the elevators came on and William Corey moved toward it.

Sympathy tugged at her heart. William looked deeply alone. She watched him wait while a few passengers in the elevator disembarked—Dorrie was among them. She carried a drink carrier and a covered plate, tapping quickly in their direction. But it was the man, lost in shadows, who kept Aubrey's attention as he entered the elevator and disappeared from her sight.

The impression he'd made on her heart remained.

 

William listened to the echo of his step in the hospital's chapel and wondered why he was here. It was as if he had followed his feet. He couldn't remember making the conscious decision. The chapel had been noted on the main-floor directory and he'd followed the arrows without thought. Now that he was here, he didn't know what he could possibly do. There was no prayer on earth that could comfort him.

Candles flickered in the front of the nondenominational sanctuary, candles that had been lit in hope and prayer. The stillness of the simple place felt as if it still held the memory of decades of deepest prayers whispered in sorrow. Maybe his were still here, earthbound and unheard, from that dark, desperate night long ago.

I shouldn't have come here.

He'd thought he was doing the right thing, but now he wasn't so sure. The online article about
Jonas's shooting was sparse, and he'd come thinking there was some difference he could make. Sure, Aubrey had told him enough of Jonas's current medical situation to prepare him, but hearing it was another reality entirely. Seeing the look of it on Jonas's wife's face was too bleak a reminder.

William knew that look too well, the appearance of exhaustion and desperation. Of what it took to put life on hold to stay at a loved one's side. There wasn't enough sleep, not enough hope, not enough love, no matter how hard you tried, to will that loved one well.

The day's blazing sunshine spilled through two arched stained-glass windows, and the colorful spill of light might be a sign to some who sought comfort in this solemn place. But that comfort and hope had been elusive for him. William's hand felt empty, as empty as his soul, and coming here had been a mistake. He'd been unable to make any sense of life, or reason behind it. It wasn't what he wanted to believe. It was simply all he was left with.

The scent of flowers placed on the altar became cloying, a scent-related memory of when he'd knelt here, praying for mercy to save his wife.

It hadn't happened.

He turned his back to the altar and the cross on the wall, feeling devoid of faith, like a pitcher empty of water, but the pad of approaching foot
steps made him hesitate. It was as if the light slanting in thick, nebulous rays through the stained glass brightened when she stepped through the threshold and into the sanctuary.

Aubrey. She recognized him, and their gazes locked. With the way she was haloed by the jeweled light, a hopeful man might think this was a sign that heaven was listening after all.

“W
illiam.” Aubrey blinked but couldn't quite believe her eyes. The man seemed darker somehow even as he stood in the light. “What are you doing here?”

Okay, duh, obvious. Was there any question why she was twenty-seven and single and doomed to stay that way? Her conversation and social skills
could
be better. She took a quiet step forward, careful not to disturb the reverence of the sanctuary.

He didn't answer or acknowledge her obvious question.

“I guess we had the same thing in mind. Prayer,” she added when he continued to look at her without saying a thing. “I didn't mean to intrude. I can come back later—”

“No.” His baritone boomed like summer thunder. “Don't go. I was just leaving.”

“Okay.” She remembered how he'd jerked back from her touch in the waiting room. Maybe he was on his way out; maybe he was trying to avoid her.

Way to go, Aubrey. This is where being her twin would come in handy. If she could clone her sister's personality, she'd know exactly what to say to this man who looked slightly panicked and out of his comfort zone.

She moved aside to give him plenty of room to escape. “I always turn to prayer, too, when I feel lost.”

He held out his hands, palms up, in a helpless gesture. “I didn't pray. Couldn't.”

She noticed his gaze slide lower. She put her hand where he would be looking, at her throat, and felt the small gold cross their maternal grandmother had given her. Gran was a deeply religious woman, and that had always given Aubrey courage. “Danielle gave me your card. My sister and I are trying to handle all the donations that are coming in. Jonas is fortunate to have extensive insurance after all, so we're designating a few charities to donate to in his name. If you're still interested, then just let me know.”

A single nod, that was all. His face was stone hard, but now she knew the reason he ambled past her as if he didn't have a heart. No, she thought, a man wouldn't who'd buried his wife.

“I'll get back to you about donations, then.” At least she thought that's what his nod had meant. “This had to be pretty important to you for you to come here in person.”

He hesitated in the doorway. Turned. He didn't look at her but above her head at the windows radiating light. “It was. I owe Jonas a great debt. Whatever else I may have lost, I still believe in the Golden Rule. In doing right by others.”

He left in silence, without a goodbye. Even the pad of his black-soled shoes hardly made a noise, as if he were more shadow than man. Aubrey knew it was just the artistic part of her, thinking of him that way. In the sanctuary filled with God's light, she knelt and said a prayer for him first.

Whatever reason God had brought William into their lives, and into her path, she hoped she could do the right thing by him. But as to what that could be, she was clueless. She left that up to the angels as she bowed her head and began to work her way down her prayer list.

 

“I don't know if I'm coming or going.”

Aubrey looked up from shelving new inventory at her parents' Christian bookstore to see her twin dashing down the main aisle toward her. “Ava, you're twenty-three minutes late. Again.”

“I know it. My bad!” Breathless, she skidded to a stop beside the book cart, dressed in neon-pink
from head to toe. “But on the good side, I remembered to bring lunch for you. I did a drive-through at Mr. Paco's Tacos. Is Katherine in yet?”

“No, she's staying with Danielle at the hospital this afternoon so Dorrie can get some sleep. Oh, and Spence got a call from Rebecca.”

“Is our wayward stepsister finally on her way home?”

“After a month of missionary work, she says she's looking forward to the creature comforts of indoor plumbing and air-conditioning.”

There was a lot they didn't say, but Aubrey knew what Ava was thinking. So many serious issues were hammering hard on their family right now. Spence and Katherine, who both had spoken to their grandmother Whitman on the phone, had concerns about her health. Gran was their mom's mom, who had decided to snowbird in Arizona and wound up staying there for the past few years. So far away, it wasn't as if they could be there to help her out.

Then there was this thing with Jonas, and it had all of them running as fast as they could to help Danielle and the kids get through it.

And then there was Rebecca and her not so nice boyfriend, Chris. It had been a good thing for her to be away in Mexico for a chunk of the summer without phone service. But now she was coming back and Aubrey had real concerns—and so did Ava. She could tell by the dark look.

“What happened to boring?” Ava asked as she snatched an armload of books from the cart. “Remember when our lives were so boring all we did was yawn?”

“If I remember correctly, you were complaining you were bored and kept praying for something exciting to happen.”

Ava slid the first book onto a place in the shelf. “I've learned my lesson. I'm never praying for something to break up the doldrums again.”

“Be careful what you pray for, huh?” Aubrey teased as she sidled close to her twin and pulled out the book she'd just shelved in the wrong place. “I guess that means this is all your fault.”

“What's your fault?” Spence strode toward them, glowering, but he was more bark than bite. “And you're late. Again.”

“I know.” Ava shrugged as if it was no biggie. “I'm just lucky I could make it at all.”

Spence's left eyebrow shot up in a furious arch. “We're truly lucky you graced us with your presence. Aubrey, did she misshelf that book?”

“Not now.” Aubrey easily slipped the volume in where it belonged. “Ava's holding down two jobs, and helping out Dani. You could be more flexible.”

“I could be, but I'm not going to.” He almost said it without a hint of humor.

She wasn't fooled. “Go back to your computer. We've got it covered.”

“You'll watch the front?”

“There isn't a single customer in the store. Stop worrying.” She often thought that instead of giving her worries up to God, she'd just give them to Spence. He wasn't happy unless he was worrying over something. “Ava brought Mr. Paco's Tacos nachos.”

Not amused by the rhyme, Spence jammed his hands into the pockets of his perfectly creased trousers. “No food near the books.” He scowled extra hard as if to make up for the ghost of his smile and stormed off.

They watched him go. Aubrey didn't know what to do with their taciturn older brother. She knew Ava didn't, either.

Ava was the first to speak. “Do you know what he needs?”

“Exactly. A girlfriend. But how impossible is that?”

“I've been praying.” Ava had an undeniable gift for prayer. “Just like I've been praying for you, too, so brace yourself.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. I can't imagine some guy falling for me.”

“What kind of talk is that? If I can break my date-only-duds pattern, then you can break this no-dating-ever habit you've got going.” Her two-carat engagement diamond chose that moment to sparkle as she shelved a book. “It's all about positive
thinking. That, and a lot of prayer. Oh, and the right man coming along at the exact same moment.”

“We both know how hard that is to accomplish.” Aubrey didn't mind that she didn't have a boyfriend who was so deeply in love he couldn't wait to marry her. Really. Okay, so she did. “Anyway, I love my life the way it is.”

“Okay, but that's not going to stop me from praying hard for you.” Ava's cell chimed a cheerful tune and she abandoned her shelving to search through her pockets for her phone. She studied the screen and brightened like a star in the heavens. “It's Brice.”

Her fiancé. Aubrey pulled the book Ava had misshelved and whispered, “Go into the break room. Go on.”

“Thanks. I owe ya. Hello, there, handsome.” Ava's smile was 100 percent pure joy as she skipped away, answering the call. Her voice, filled with love and happiness, faded away as she disappeared from sight.

Aubrey hated to admit it, but no amount of Ava's praying was going to help. She was looking thirty in the face and had never been on a date. It wasn't as if she was likely to start now. She was a wallflower and doomed to stay that way. She didn't mind, really. Think of all the blessings she already had in her life. A big loving family. Her left leg, which had healed miracu
lously enough for her to walk. She had her art and her horse and a good life. She didn't have any business regretting the blessings she didn't have.

And why did her thoughts return to William?

Call her curious. She happened to have a few books to shelve in the next aisle. She'd been in such a hurry, she hadn't taken the time to check out whether they had any of William's photography books in stock. Maybe now was as good a time as any to see, with her lunch break coming up and no one in the store.

She knelt down and found two of William's books. One was a big coffee-table type collection full of rich, colorful photos. She took the other, a smaller collection with text from Scripture, and stacked them on the cart. After all, she'd need something to read while she ate lunch, right?

By the time she'd shelved the first row of books on the cart, Ava had come back into sight, grinning from ear to ear. It was a good thing to see amidst all the sadness and worry in their family.

“Brice is going to do my afternoon deliveries. Whew.” Ava was working two jobs to keep her bakery business afloat. “Oh, how about that? You pulled one of William Corey's books.”

“I was curious. I mean, I've seen his stuff before.” Aubrey shrugged as if it was no big deal. The question was, why did it feel like a big deal?
She hardly knew the man. “I just wanted to look again, after meeting him.”

“Danielle said he came to the hospital.” Ava stopped to flip open the book. “I had no idea. I guess Jonas knew him from some distant tie to the united churches charities. He's a big donor, I guess.”

“I'm not surprised.” Aubrey thought of the story William had told her, and the truth he'd trusted her with. He'd struck her as a deeply private person, and she didn't feel comfortable saying anything to Ava.

She looked over her twin's shoulder. The first photograph was one of his most collected works, a subtle sunrise scene over the craggy amethyst mountains in Glacier National Park. She recognized the scene because she'd been to Glacier a few times. The lake beneath the mountains glowed as if each rippling wave of water had been painted with rosy, opalescent paint. The photograph seemed to glow with a life—and hope—of its own.

It was hard to reconcile with the man in the chapel. A man who looked as if he'd had all the hope torn out of him. She didn't know why she ached with sympathy for him. Maybe because tragedy had hit her family, too. Maybe. But somehow her sympathy for William felt more powerful than that. As if by sharing his story, she'd seen more of the private man, the tender places within that no one knew.

“Talk about beautiful stuff.” Ava turned page after page. “It's a shame he doesn't work anymore. I've heard it's hard to get hold of some of his prints. They're all limited editions or something.”

“I didn't know he'd retired.” Aubrey thought of the man shadowed and lost. She didn't have to wonder whether he'd put down his camera because of his grief. Of course he had. “I didn't tell Danielle about Jonas's gift, did you?”

“I couldn't bear to, so I talked Katherine into doing it since she'd older, but I guess she tried and broke down in tears, so she hid the gift. Maybe Jonas will get well and be able to give it to her himself. Miracles happen.”

Although Ava tried to say it with conviction, Aubrey knew Ava didn't feel it. Neither did she.

Okay, that was about all she could take of all this sadness. Aubrey snapped the book closed. Maybe she wouldn't look at his pictures after all. It would only make her hurt for William, and she needed to do something to counterbalance it. Make a positive in the midst of all this darkness. She had her laptop in the employee closest. Maybe she'd start to answer all the e-mails from the church members about the fund-raiser for Jonas.

Ava snapped her book shut with an echoing thud. “Your lunch is getting cold, hello? Go eat. Put your feet up. Shoo.”

“Will you promise to double-check the books
you're shelving? Or I'll just have to do it all over again.”

“Sure I will. Really.”

Aubrey ignored Ava's eye roll and headed toward the back. There was no better fast-food pick-me-up than a chicken burrito and nachos, and boy, did she need one.

 

William had made his trail ride a long one, stabled Jet, and as he shouldered through the back door to his home, he still couldn't get Aubrey out of his mind. She stayed there the way a half-forgotten dream hung on through the day, with glimpses and images that would not let him forget or push thoughts of her aside. Images of her gentle and luminous beauty had seemed so genuine and, like the pull of his awareness in his heart, remained.

Nothing had been right since he'd first spotted her. He couldn't deny this, not even to himself. He went straight to the fridge and let the cool air wash over him as he debated the choices on his sparse shelves. Finally, he grabbed a bottle of sweetened iced tea, twisted the cap as he closed the fridge door, and took a long pull.

The icy liquid cooled him from the inside out, but did it get rid of that unsettled, sore feeling in his chest? The one that had worsened after he'd told Aubrey about his wife?

Of course not. Not even his strength of will had been able to get rid of that. He wasn't sure what would.

Why had he told her of his most private pain? Maybe he'd felt overwhelmed with Jonas's wife's sorrow and fears, because he knew exactly how she felt. He'd been there, too. Maybe he'd talked about it because the memories had been so near to the surface.