High Plains Hearts (44 page)

It was a very real possibility.

And it was an ugly one.

S
he sat nervously by the phone on Monday, not daring to stir for lunch. Every time she had to step away, Marnie or Ric came down and listened for the ring that would tell them whether or not they’d gotten the money.

It was late in the day when the call finally came. Ric was in the hallway, and from her desk, Lily watched him sprint down the hall and stop at her door, shamelessly eavesdropping.

The call was short—and sweet. They’d been awarded the money.

Lily had been prepared for it to go either way. But what she wasn’t prepared for was the explanation.

“We were a bit concerned about the recent bad press the Nanny Group director’s been receiving, so we checked into it, and one of the findings that came back again and again is that you are as honest as the day is long,” the mayor declared. “The primary investigator in Illinois said, as a matter of fact, that your records were the cleanest he’d found.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. All of the mistrust that the fiasco had generated in her, and all the worry, and it ended like this.

She felt as if the world had just hugged her.

“Furthermore,” the mayor continued, “we understand that you are employed by Resurrection, but if in the future this program grows, we’re prepared to offer you a job with the city of Wildwood overseeing this and potentially other similar programs.”

As soon as she hung up the phone, she let loose with a whoop that brought Marnie at a run. “We got it! We got it!”

She shared the news with the others and then told them the additional news. “There’s a new director at the Nanny Group, a fellow with impeccable credentials, so their work will go on.” She looked at them. “I can’t begin to tell you how much that means to me.”

Lily looked at the framed picture of Todd on her desk. “Excuse me. As much as I adore you both, there’s someone else who needs to hear this next bit of news first. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She raced down the hall to the day care center, where her son enjoyed playing after school.

Todd was back from kindergarten, and he looked up from the truck he was guiding through an obstacle course. “Mom! Is it time to go home?”

“Honey, what a good question. Come here.” She sat in one of the tiny chairs and patted her lap. “I want to tell you something.”

Todd eyed her questioningly but obligingly came over and sat on her lap.

“Todd, how would you like to stay here in Wildwood for a long time?”

His face lit up, but she could tell that he was withholding full enthusiasm. “That would be nice, but don’t we have to leave after the flood is fixed?”

“How about if we could stay anyway?”

His grin could have lit the entire building. “Mom! Really?”

“Really. I was offered a great job with the city after this job ends, if it does. We can stay here. Forever and ever.”

Her heart felt as if it were floating. Never, never had life seemed so good.

“Can we get the house?” Todd asked.

“Now that depends on the house, but if everything goes okay with it, I think so, tiger.”

“Yea!” His shout of joy reverberated through the room and brought the rest of the children to his side.

“We are going to stay here and live in a house, and I’m going to grow carrots!” he announced. “You can all come over and eat carrots right out of my garden.”

“Ick. I don’t like carrots,” one boy said.

“Won’t there be dirt on the carrots if you take them right out of the garden?” another boy asked.

“Can I plant some beans? I like beans better,” said the little blond girl who had so captured Lily’s heart earlier.

Lily smiled. “If we get this house—and that’s
if
we get this house—you can all come over and we’ll plant the world’s biggest garden. But I don’t think it’ll be real soon because look outside!”

The children clustered around the large window that brought sunlight into the room.

Huge, lazy snowflakes drifted down, melting almost as soon as they hit the earth.

Immediately all interest in Todd’s garden was lost as the children clamored to go outside and play in the snow. The woman in charge of the day care that afternoon caught Lily’s eye and winked. They understood the uniqueness of big, puffy snowflakes.

She left the playroom and followed the voices to the church office. Marnie and Ric stopped their conversation and turned to her in delighted anticipation.

“I’m so excited I can barely stand it,” Marnie said. “Fill us in on everything.”

When she was finished filling them in, Ric caught her up in his arms and twirled her around. “Is it true? You’re staying?”

She smiled and nodded, too happy for words.

The clock struck five o’clock, and Marnie jumped. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ve got to go pick up my hubby at work. His car’s in the shop, so I’m his wheels today.” She gave Lily a parting hug. “I can’t tell you how happy I am today.”

At last Ric and Lily were alone in the office.

“It’s been an incredible day,” Ric said to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard as much good news as I have today.”

“It’s been an astonishing day,” Lily agreed. “I don’t know when I’ve ever been so happy. Except—”

“Except what?” he asked, his face lined with concern.

“This is going to sound crazy, but I feel sorry for Douglas Newton. I know, I know, his own actions brought this down on his head, but I can’t help feeling bad about it all. It could have been avoided, all of it.”

“That’s true,” Ric said thoughtfully. “Although I do wonder why you can find it in yourself to forgive him for what he’s done to you.”

“Ric, I came out of it okay. I’m a bit shopworn around the edges, but I’m okay. I’ve got to feel sorry for those who haven’t found that living by God’s laws is as easy, if not easier, than trying not to.”

She chewed on her lip. There was one other thing. A note she had seen on the counter of the office. Maybe Marnie forgot to show it to her. Or maybe she didn’t want to ruin Lily’s day. The real estate agent had called with a short message: The house was no longer available.

It seemed so shallow, but there it was. She wanted that house. It had become the symbol of so much.

In low words she told Ric. “The house isn’t mine. It’s gone.”

He didn’t say anything. He just handed her her coat, and they silently began their way down to the day care center to pick up Todd.

She motioned to him to come with her.

They went into the darkened sanctuary, and she looked at the cross, silhouetted against the wall in the early winter twilight.

“Thank You,” she said to the shadowed cross. “Thank You.”

Ric squeezed her hand, and they stood there a moment or two.

God is good
, Lily thought. If only she had learned earlier to let go and stop worrying so much!

“ ‘Consider the lilies of the field,’ ” Ric said softly, his voice resonant in the empty sanctuary. “ ‘How they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin.’ ”

“I’ve always thought the lilies were lazy, but they’re not, are they?” she asked him.

A ray of light slanted through the stained glass and decorated his wheat-colored hair with a rainbow of colors.

“The lilies are doing exactly what lilies are meant to do, and we are meant to do exactly what human beings are meant to do. Our struggle is to find out what that might be.”

Lily mulled that over. It wasn’t an easily answered question. Certainly what
not
to do seemed often an easier option.

“I wonder what our lives will be like,” she said. “After living in the shadows, what will it be like to live in the sunshine? What direction do we go in now?”

“This way,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her forward. “Shall we move toward the altar—together?”

Before she could answer, he knelt. “Do you remember that evening along the river when I lent you my jacket, and I said I wished I had something heavier for you?”

She nodded. “I will never forget that night.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything heavier. But this is lighter, and maybe it will do.”

He pulled a small square box from his pocket and handed it to her.

“A ring!” she breathed as she opened it.

But it wasn’t a ring that met her eyes. It was a shiny new key.

“Lily Chamberlain, I can’t promise you that you will not toil, although you may never spin—that part is up to you—but would you please consider becoming Lily Jensen and living with me in a little brick house with a fireplace and some land where Todd can grow carrots?”

She nodded.

Carrots were good.

Two years later

R
ic came into the kitchen in a blast of cold air and dumped the day’s mail on the kitchen counter. Red and green and white envelopes spilled in a colorful array of Christmas cards.

“Anything from your mom?” he teased.

She sorted through them. “Actually, there is.” She tossed it to him. “Today’s letter. She’s been writing us every single day, even though we’ll be seeing her this afternoon!”

He opened it and smiled as he scanned through the letter. “She’s excited about coming to see us for Christmas. She says she found a great hearth box that will look perfect by the fireplace.”

Lily laughed. “She’s nuts about that fireplace.”

“And she wants to see Todd play basketball while she’s here.” He looked at Lily. “I can’t believe he’s seven already.”

“And that we’re getting to be old married folks? Almost two years now?”

“How have we ever stood it?” He kissed the tip of her nose and returned to the letter. “And she says she’s anxious to see her new granddaughter.”

Lily’s eyes got a faraway look. “I am, too. It’s been so long, and I wonder what she’ll be like. Rosie. It’s a perfect name for her. Our daughter will be perfect, like a little budding rose.”

“I’m anxious for her to get here.” Ric took his wife in his arms and held her closely. “I’ll have my very own flower garden, Lily and Rosie.”

She nuzzled her face in his neck. “I’m getting nervous, Ric.”

“The bag is ready. Her room is ready.”

“Everything’s ready except me,” wailed Lily. “I can’t believe how nervous I am!”

Ric hugged her even tighter. “It’ll be okay. Our—”

Todd spun into the room at a furious pace and screeched to a halt when he saw them. “How long until Rosie gets here?”

She looked at the clock. “We could go any minute now. As soon as my mother gets here, we’re going, no matter how long we have to wait once we get there.”

Todd raced into the entryway to get his coat and mittens. “I’ll wait outside,” he told them as he struggled into his boots.

“Isn’t it too early?” Ric asked her. “Rosie’s not due for another couple of—”

“Shhh.” She laid a finger over his lips. “I can’t wait any longer. It’s not every day that you get to see your daughter for the very first time.” She paused. “Especially when she’s coming on a plane all the way from Central America.”

A little girl. She was going to have a little girl now to love also.

She touched the locket that she’d worn every day since they found out about the little girl. One side held Todd’s portrait, and the other was the agency’s photograph of Rosie.

Her big brown eyes had haunted her from the first time she’d seen the picture, and she knew that Rosie was meant to live with them.

A car pulled up outside.

“Mom’s here,” she said to Ric.

He kissed her. “This is a tremendous day. Have I told you in the last five minutes how incredibly in love I am with you?”

She smiled into his eyes, those bits of blue heaven. “I can never hear it enough. But scoot. Mom probably needs some help. She seems to have brought most of the mall with her. Rosie’s already spoiled. And Todd is hopeless at this stage.”

Some things
, she thought to herself as she watched Ric hug her mother and give Todd—now waving a catcher’s mitt overhead—a piggyback ride across the snowy yard,
are simply meant to be
.

Some things just are, like love.

S
UNSHINE

For Kacie, without whom there wouldn’t be Sunshine, North Dakota. You are so good for my heart! (And you make the best gravy ever!)

For Greg, my fishing advisor. Leeches, lures, worms—you explained them all, and if you rolled your eyes and sighed, you didn’t let me know, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

For Patty, who’s been my steadfast friend down this bumpy road of life. How can I ever thank you enough?

For North Dakota, despite your crazy weather—which, to tell the truth, I actually kind of love—you will always be home to me.

“If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there’d be a shortage of fishing poles. ”

Doug Larson

Sunshine, North Dakota

Population, including barn cats, chickens, and earthworms: 14

Form of government: Benevolent anarchy

Main industry: Fishing. Or thinking about fishing
.

Recreational area: Little Starling River

where you might find a sunnie or two
.

Entertainment venues: Chasing the cats that chase

the chickens that chase the earthworms
.

Selling price: Make an offer. If we take it, that’s the selling price
.

If we don’t take it, that’s not it
.

L
ivvy Moore leaned back in her chair and studied the advertisement again. It was charming, certainly a change from the usual text she wrote: “Move-in ready. 3 BRs, 2 bth, full bsmt.” But there was something else about this ad.

Maybe, just maybe, this was what she’d been waiting for. This could be it.

In fact, this
had
to be it. Why else would a newspaper from some small town in North Dakota have blown up against the tire of her car in downtown Boston? Neat freak that she was, she had tossed it into her car, intending to recycle it when she got to work. A broken-down panel truck had backed traffic up for blocks, and she was stuck with nothing to read … nothing except this newspaper, with this intriguing offer.