Sealed with a Kiss (16 page)

“My grandmother loved that place and it's my home. Beardsly wouldn't be the same without it. I don't care if you have to become a human shield till I get there, don't let them harm a shingle on that house!”

“Now you're talking, girl,” Lacey shouted as Tara tossed the phone onto the bed, stepped back into her black flats and headed for the door.

 

In a ladies' room at the Dallas–Fort Worth airport, Tara splashed water on her sticky skin and re-braided her hair. Bloodshot eyes stared back from a face even more pale than usual. She considered dabbing concealer on the dark circles beneath her eyes but passed on vanity in the interest of time.

A night in LaGuardia had given her a new perspective on the homeless, but it got her on the first flight south. She tossed her cosmetics into the carry-on and made a mad dash to catch the rental car shuttle. To stay awake on the two-hour drive to Beardsly, she alternated between singing off-key and praying aloud. As activity in the square was coming to life she pulled down Main Street.

Even Lacey's warning couldn't prepare Tara for the jolt of seeing the Elliott Building. The charred
exterior walls had been pushed down and only a giant pile of rubble remained of the once-proud structure. Front-end loaders were already in motion filling and emptying their huge buckets into waiting dump trucks. A twisted piece of metal that had once been a shiny chrome handlebar was a brutal reminder of her urgent destination. She accelerated toward Sycamore.

Even from a distance she spotted the long, low trailer pulled to the curb. The bright yellow equipment with huge wheels was poised to back down the ramp. Lacey's little red compact was slanted behind the transport trailer like a soup can before a school bus.

Lacey slammed the door as she jumped from her car and raced to meet the rented sedan. “I'm so glad you're here,” she panted. They were threatening to lift my car and move it out of the way with a forklift.”

“Get back in and stay put. We're not out of the woods yet.” Tara swung up the long drive stomping on the brakes at the edge of the carport. She jumped from the rental and jogged up the wooden porch steps.

The door handle rattled at her touch. It was locked tight with the dead bolt thrown from inside. She rang the bell with one hand and relentlessly pounded the brass knocker with the other. Her persistence paid off as heavy footsteps thumped across
the wooden floor of the foyer. The bolt slid open and the door inched back enough for Sam to poke his head out.

“Good morning, Rusty,” he drawled.

“No, so far it's not,” she fumed at his lazy smile.

“Well, it's bound to get better now that you're home. Don't you reckon?”

“It will get better when I have your assurance that those bulldozers won't leave that trailer.”

“I'm sorry, but they have a lot of work to do today. I'm paying by the hour and if Lacey doesn't move her car soon the boys and I are gonna have to offer her some help.”

The screen door remained locked between them or she'd have rewarded his casual attitude with a sharp elbow in the gut.

“Sam, come out here so we can talk.
Now.
”

“It's ninety degrees in the shade out there,” he observed. “How about if you come inside?” He made a slight move as if to open the door and then paused. “Under two conditions.”

She took a cautious step away from the door. “What conditions?”

His smile faded. His eyes softened from smoky teasing to the kindest of gray. “That you let me do most of the talking and that you find it in you to forgive me.”

The heavy weight on her heart shifted. She experienced a moment of calm and knew in her soul
things were about to be put right, once and for all. Relieved to have such a spirit of peace she gave a small nod of agreement.

Sam flipped the lock and held the door open. “You'll have to excuse the mess.”

“Mess? Didn't the movers clean up after themselves?” She spoke as she crossed the threshold into the cool, still quiet of the home she'd given away.

Sam's strong arms caught and held her fast when her knees buckled. Through a cloud of disbelief and fresh tears her gaze caressed the rooms before her. Where they had been lonely and empty days earlier, they were now filled with a lifetime's collection of heirlooms.

The Miriam Elliott Collection.

Sam continued to steady her from behind as she stumbled like a sleepwalker from room to room. The kitchen counter was splashed with color from backyard flowers lying beside an empty vase.

The Queen Anne chair and footstool were back in their cozy corner with the sea trunk positioned before the overstuffed sofa in the library. The hand-carved German curio cabinet once again displayed Hummel figurines near the griffin table that was laid out with two place settings for breakfast.

“Why, Sam?” She whispered the simple plea as she turned in his arms.

He pulled her to his chest, tucked her beneath his chin and stroked down the length of her back. She
pressed her ear to his heart and heard the thumping that matched hers perfectly.

“Because I love you, Rusty,” he murmured into her hair. “I realized it weeks ago but I was too much of a coward to admit it. I was afraid you'd change your mind about me when you found out I was lying, so I was waiting for the right moment to tell you the truth.”

He kissed the top her head and held her to him, as if she'd cut and run. “I thought the fire was my perfect opportunity. I could come to the rescue and make everything better than before. And then you'd still love me.”

She twined her arms around his waist, anchoring herself to the man she adored. “I've always loved you, Sam. I tried to force that love too soon and God used my grandmother to put years between us so I'd wait on His perfect timing. Knowing what He wanted for my life didn't give me the right to make it happen on my own.”

Sam relaxed his hold so she could look into his eyes, the very portals of his soul. He bit his lower lip as it quivered with emotion. “Let's make it happen together, Rusty. But this time with God's help.” His eyes glistened. “Please share my life. Please say you'll marry me.”

“Are you serious?” she questioned him, amazed by his tender words.

His lips twitched and his chest rumbled with a
nervous chuckle. “If I hadn't been serious do you think I'd have paid twice what you got from the Westheimer Gallery to buy everything back for my bride's wedding gift?”

“Wouldn't you rather keep these things in Houston? That
is
your home after all.”

He kissed her forehead. “I'm selling the dealership to Claire, who happens to be my business manager. So, my home is wherever you are. If you want it to be here, it'll be here. If you want it to be New York, it'll be New York.”

“Sam, you're making a lot of big decisions in a hurry.”

“That's because I'm in a hurry to have you for my wife. But I don't want to rush you into anything besides marriage. I know you love your job at The Heritage. If you want to keep it, I can live with that. I'll wait right here for you in Beardsly. I have plenty to do updating this place, restoring the Elliott building and volunteering at the college this fall.”

A shiver of pleasure ran through her body at the thought of Sam back in the classroom. “There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here in Texas with my husband.”

“Is that a ‘yes'?” His eyes widened with hope.

“What do you think?” She gave him a wide smile and pulled his mouth down to meet hers.

The rumble of heavy equipment floated in through the screen door.

She broke the kiss and angled her ear toward the sound. “If you never had any intention of bulldozing Sycamore House, what are those tractors doing outside?”

He turned her about-face and marched her through the kitchen to stand before the tall windows. In the backyard, Lacey and Mr. Latimer waved from inside a roped-off space marked with surveyor's pegs and yellow flags. “I guess those two wanted to be the first ones in the pool.”

“Oh, Sam, a pool will be a treasure in the summer heat.”

“You're all the treasure I need on this earth,” he said, bending close to seal their love with a kiss.

Dear Reader,

Going home after a long absence can be an endearing or an unsettling experience. Finding yourself in old familiar places can make your heart skip a beat or your stomach churn. Hearing your name called by a voice from the past can invoke a memory of comfort or of confrontation. Moving backward in time, no matter the circumstances of your upbringing, is rarely without strong emotions.

Bound together as childhood friends and then shackled as adult business partners, Sam and Tara experienced all these feelings when they returned to their small hometown in
Sealed with a Kiss.
During a hot East Texas summer they realized that the dreams of youth were always possible, but only in God's timing.

As our children search for proof of God's existence, my siblings and I clearly see His divine fingerprints all over our lives. the more we submit to His will, the more He can bless us. We recall the trials He carried us through and the storms He gave us the courage to weather. And we realize we are each stronger because we've trusted His timing when ours was imperfect.

If you enjoyed Sam and Tara's journey, please let me hear from you at www.maenunn.com.

Until next time, let your light shine.

Mae Nunn