From the Start (42 page)

I know it is.
She couldn’t say it out loud. It’d sound cocky and boastful. But it
was
good. Just a simple love story, really, but it’d flowed like nothing she’d ever written. She’d taken cues from Dad—from all his talk of romance and his and Mom’s journey—and it’d just poured from her.

It was funny . . . after years of wishing to write something besides romance, she’d come back to it with a new vigor. She’d refallen in love with love.

And each time the voice of her past hissed its way in—tried
to tell her this was just another wishy-washy story about fake people living fake lives who didn’t really matter—she’d reread the last scene she’d written. Or scroll back to the beginning and read her first chapter. Or dream about the ending she couldn’t wait to give her characters, the way their journeys would change them . . . and just might change the reader.

And somewhere in the process, she began to believe in her own story.

“You’re okay with me having read it, aren’t you? Marcus didn’t think you’d mind.”

She and Hailey waited off to the side as Marcus bought tickets. “No, of course not.” She pulled off her gloves, one finger at a time. “You don’t think it turned out overly sappy or sentimental?”

“Not at all, but it
is
romantic. Incredibly so. The tension, I could totally feel it. I laughed and cried and had to stay up half the night reading.” She loosened her scarf. “It’s your heart on the page.”

“You just said every single thing writers want to hear.”

“It has a different feel than your screenplays, too. Maybe it’s because it’s a book, not a script, but . . . it’s like you finally figured out what you wanted to say and you didn’t hold back. You said it. Something’s changed in your writing, Kate.”

Because something had changed in Kate. She still wasn’t entirely sure what. So much about her life was up in the air right now. She’d done a little freelance writing here and there. Frederick Langston had thrown a couple articles her way for the James Foundation newsletter. Not the same as a trip to Africa, but at least she was involved.

But other than that, her days had mainly been filled up with physical therapy and writing her book. The only reason she’d even been able to afford the past couple months’ mortgage
payments had been the check she received in the mail back in November. From Colton.

She’d thought about sending it back. He didn’t owe her. It’s not like he’d forced her to spend that month working on his book. She hadn’t finished it. It wasn’t getting published.

But sending it back would’ve felt too much like a final good-bye.
Man, I miss him.
Missed him and wondered about him. Wondered what might’ve happened if everything hadn’t fallen apart in one miserable day.

“Come on, Katie.”

She reached for Breydan’s hand. “Lead the way.”

Within minutes they’d boarded an elevator and begun the initial ascent. The elevator stopped at the tenth floor, and they followed a maze of corridors to another elevator for the final stretch.

And then they were released onto the Skydeck, the bright white of a winter sun gulping up the space that circled around the elevators. Breydan immediately ran to a window.

She grinned even as her head fogged. The elevator hadn’t bothered her nearly as much as she’d expected, but now, with only glass separating her from the sky’s embrace and the Chicago skyline so, soooo far below, the muscles in her legs threatened to give out.

“You all right?” Marcus’s smirk hovered between teasing and concern.

“I’m fine, smarty-pants.”

“Braving your fear of heights. You’re a good surrogate aunt, Kate.”

Marcus joined Breydan at the window then, and Kate turned from the view to Hailey. “You don’t have to stay back here with me.”

“Oh, I’m not staying back here. I’m the support system that’s going to get you to the window.”

“Uh-uh. I promised to come up here. Not to go stand by the glass and lose my breakfast. Besides, I don’t need to look out. I already know you can see Indiana, Wisconsin, and Michigan from here.” She could recite tower trivia all day.

“That’s a fact, Kate. Not the same thing as experiencing the view.”

“You know all the facts of what makes
a good romance, Kate. You don’t let yourself live
it.”

Dad’s words.

“Come on, just take a peek.”

Hesitance weighing her steps, she let Hailey pull her to the front of the crowd. They stopped in front of a lanky window, and the second Kate felt the cool glass reaching for her, she backed away and closed her eyes. She could hear the click of Breydan’s camera as he snapped photos.

“Open your eyes, Kate.”

She forced them open, ignored the clenching in her stomach . . . and just looked. The Chicago skyline spread in smudges of gray and brown, winter white draping behind and in and around. And the clouds—it was as if she could reach forward to touch them. Even on the foggiest day, God’s artistry breathed with life.

Breathless wonder dabbed away her fear.

“So what do you hear from Colton these days?”

Her gaze snapped to Hailey. “Uh, I thought we were admiring the view.”

“I figure if I can get you to the window, then I can get you to talk about Colton.”

“You figured wrong.” She might think about him way, way more than the months of silence warranted. But if Raegan hadn’t been able to get anywhere with the subject during her couple weeks staying with Kate, Hailey certainly wasn’t going to.

“Oh, come on. You need to talk about it. Otherwise, he’ll become another Gil and—”

Kate’s laughter bordered on caustic. “Not a chance. Colton is nothing like Gil.”

“So talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I know Logan’s seen him a few times. He told me at Christmas Colton’s been busy with restarting his foundation. But other than that, I know nothing.”

Hailey tilted her head, eyes turned back to the view. “Huh. I wonder how he’s working with his foundation from Maple Valley. Maybe that’s the kind of thing you can do from anywhere.”

“Wait, what?” Kate turned to face her friend. “Colton’s not in Maple Valley.”

“Uh, yes he is. Breydan just got a package from him this week. Autographs of a bunch of old teammates and a really nice letter. And it was definitely postmarked from Maple Valley.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t understand.” If Colton was back in Iowa, wouldn’t someone have told her?

“Come on, Kate. Come see me stand on the glass deck.” Breydan pulled on her arm.

“You’re a brave kid, B.” She followed him across the room to where the glass deck jutted out from the building, watched him step onto the glass deck and play to the camera and pose like Superman.

“Maybe I’m crazy,” Hailey said beside her, “but if the guy is back in your hometown, it must mean something.”

“I have no idea what.”

Breydan barreled toward her. “Your turn, Katie.”

“Ha, good one. No thanks.” Although, it had to feel a little exhilarating, didn’t it, standing on the glass?

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be scared. If I can do it, you can.”

“I like floors I can see, Breydan.”

“Pleeease.” He turned exaggerated puppy-dog eyes on her. “You know you want to.”

Did she?

“Be the
girl who takes the risk and goes after what she wants.”
Hailey had said that. Months ago, back when Breydan was in the hospital.

She took a breath, closed her eyes, felt Breydan push her forward. Then she opened her eyes and stepped onto the glass. But the view, the ledge, the fear she should’ve felt . . . none of it even registered.

He’s back in Maple Valley. Colton’s
back.

And then she was moving off the glass and someone else was taking a turn and her heart was hammering for a reason that had nothing to do with height.

She whirled around to Marcus and Hailey. “Guys, I’ve gotta go. Sorry. Brey, thanks for forcing me to come up here.” She leaned down to hug him, then turned toward the elevator.

“But where are you going? What are you doing?” Hailey called.

Kate spun as the elevator door opened. Grinned. “Calling an audible.”

20

H
ad it really only been five months since the last time Colton gave a press conference?

And could this one be any more different? Fewer cameras, more familiar faces. And a sense of purpose so energizing, it could have fueled him for a year.

“We need to get moving, Logan. It’s almost three.”

“Five more minutes. The reporter from Channel 8 is still interviewing Webster.”

Colton glanced around the packed living room. No, it wasn’t nearly the crowd who’d flocked to his NFL retirement announcement. Mostly state and local reporters. And instead of the white walls that’d wrapped around that stadium conference room, this living room boasted warm tones—Raegan’s choice, of course—and comfortable red-almost-burgundy leather furniture. Plants, bamboo blinds, new carpet, all of it completed the relaxed feel.

Not that he could claim credit for the décor. That was all Raegan and Ava.

So far, this was the only room to have gotten a complete makeover. There was still plenty more to do. And he’d have to wait until spring to tackle the exterior—replace aging siding
and add a deck in back. Might have to completely pull off the existing porch and build a new one.

Logan waved at Charlie, who was perched on Case’s shoulders at the back of the room. “I can’t believe this came together so fast. I thought you’d spend forever working out zoning issues, getting permits, applying for tax-exempt status, all that.”

Colton turned to his friend. “Wouldn’t have come together even close to this quickly without the help of your family. And you. Seriously, man, thanks for coming home for this.”

Logan brushed off the thanks just like he had every time Colton offered his appreciation. “I was going stir-crazy once election season was over. It was good to have an excuse to get back to Iowa for a couple weeks. Plus, Charlie’s grandparents always love the chance to see her.” He scanned the room. “You sure you’re ready for all this?”

Tall windows ushered in streaming sunlight and peeked into the neighborhood whose residents had clamped on to Colton’s vision as soon as Amelia’s story ran in the paper two weeks ago. “More than ready.”

His gaze moved from the window to the gathering of people behind all the cameras. Case and Raegan, Seth and Ava, Bear . . . Everyone had come to show their support.

“You know, if you would’ve let any of us mention this whole thing to Kate earlier—”

He shook his head before Logan finished the sentence. “I’m going to tell her.” He had a plan . . . kind of. It started with the folder he’d rolled up in his back pocket.

“How hard is it to say ‘Kate, I moved to your hometown. I bought that house you love. I’m turning it into a home for guys aging out of the foster system. I restructured and renamed my foundation and—’”

“Logan, can you let me do this my way?”

“Your way is annoyingly slow.”

Maybe it was slow, but at least it wasn’t reckless.

Thing is, he would do it all over again. Getting to know Kate—falling for her, even losing her—it had freed something in him. Led him to a place of honesty and shined a light on the shadows that once held him back.

Without Kate, he might still be desperately grasping for a future he knew now he wasn’t meant for.

“Let’s get started.”

Logan gave up the argument and nodded. “I’ll round up the troops.”

The chatter of the group quieted as Logan collected their focus. Colton caught sight of Case Walker through the opening into the dining room. He still held Charlie, probably ready to make a run for it if her attention span waned.

Over in one corner of the living room, Webster Hawks straightened from his sprawled position on the recliner and stood. Did the kid realize his role in inspiring this day?

“Thanks so much for being here,” Logan addressed the group. “We’re keeping things easy and informal today. You should all have a packet of information about the Parker House, but here to tell you a little more about its purpose is its founder, former NFL quarterback and one of the finest men I know, Colton Greene.”

The pride in his friend’s voice warmed Colton as light applause broke out. His gaze landed on Raegan, who stood by a cherrywood buffet topped with platters of homemade cookies. And the Clancys, now flanking Webster. Coach Leo.

These people had become his family. This community, his home.

Assurance pooled inside him. If God could get him back to Maple Valley, fill him with a new dream, a new purpose for his life . . . well then, He could show him what to do about Kate, too.

He turned his focus to the cameras, none of his old fear of their stare left in him.

“When I was nine years old, my life changed forever. My parents were killed in an accident and I began a nearly decade-long journey through foster care.” He couldn’t help another glance at Webster, saw Laura Clancy place her hand on the teen’s shoulder.

It hadn’t been easy, facing the reality of what had happened with his parents. Such glaring light after so many years of darkness had felt like an assault. He’d taken Norah’s advice—visited a Christian counselor back in LA for those couple months before moving to Maple Valley.