The Forgiving Hour (30 page)

A bit perversely, she told him, “I still don’t
feel
it, you know.”

“That’s one of the great things about our Father. He’s able to use what we’re willing to give to Him.”

She knew he was right, but she didn’t want to tell him so.

Kevin seemed oblivious to her rebellious feelings. “One thing I’ve learned after all these years — being a Christian isn’t a destination; it’s a lifelong journey. There’s always something new to learn along the way, always something fresh to be revealed.”

“So there’s no hope of ever getting it right?” She sounded as churlish as she felt.

“Claire” — he touched her shoulder —“is something bothering you?”

You’re bothering me. I want you to notice me. To see me as a woman, and you can’t seem to do that. I was better off when I didn’t want to be noticed. This is starting to hurt, and I don’t want to hurt.

“Have I done or said something to upset you?”

“No.” She stepped away from him, looked at her watch, and said, “I’ve got an appointment. I’m running late. I’d better go.” It was a lie. She had no appointment.

“I’ll see you in church tomorrow?”

“Yes. See you in church.” She grabbed her purse and jacket off a folding chair before hurrying away.

“Nervous?” Dakota asked as his Jeep rumbled down the freeway at sixty-five miles per hour.

“A little.” Sara glanced at her left hand. A small but beautiful marquise diamond in a gold setting glittered on her ring finger.

“You think your family will disapprove of our getting married?”

As she looked over at him, she thought of her matchmaking sisters-in-law and the way her brothers had already accepted Dakota as a part of the family, expecting her to bring him along when any of them got together. Her parents liked him too.

“No,” she answered. “I think they’d be more apt to disapprove if I
refused
to marry you.”

“That’s good to know.” He grinned. “Will they think I proposed too soon?”

“Do you?” She knew what his answer would be, but she never tired of hearing it.

“No way. I’d have asked you sooner if I weren’t so shy.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” She laughed. “You have many different facets to your personality, Dakota, but shyness is one I haven’t seen.”

His laughter joined hers.

After a few moments, Sara turned serious again. “What about your mother? Have you decided when you’re going to tell her about me? About us?”

“I want to tell her in person.” He quickly met her gaze, then looked back at the road. “Are you sure you can’t get a couple of days off next month? You could go to Seattle with me and meet Mom.”

“No, I can’t. I’m too new at my job. Sometimes it seems that I’ll never catch up.” She let out a sigh. “But at least I don’t still feel like they’re going to fire me.”

“I never thought they would. You’re too smart. They knew what they were doing when they hired you.”

She smiled at him, her heart overflowing with love. “But you’re prejudiced, Mr. Conway.”

“Yeah.” He grinned as he looked at her, his gaze lingering a fraction longer than last time. “Yeah, I’m most definitely prejudiced, Miss Jennings. I’m also right.”

Thank You, Father, for Dakota. I don’t deserve him, but You brought us together anyway. I love him so much.

“As for telling my mom,” he said, interrupting her silent prayer of thanksgiving. “Like I was saying, I’ll wait until I go over for her birthday. I want to be with her when I break the news. It’s only another three weeks. That’s not all that long.”

“Will her feelings be hurt if you wait?”

He pressed his lips together, giving her question some thought, and then he answered, “Not when I explain why. She’ll be glad I did it in person.”

He flipped on his right-turn signal to exit the freeway. Ten minutes later, they pulled into the Jenningses’ driveway. Sara’s feet had just touched the ground when the front door opened.

“Dakota,” Kristina called, “you’re just in time to settle something about the Olympic hockey team or coach or some such nonsense. The boys and their dad have been arguing for the past fifteen minutes.”

“I’m no expert on hockey, Mrs. Jennings. Olympic or otherwise.”

There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Just speak with authority, and they’ll think you know what you’re talking about. None of
them
do, that’s for certain.”

Sara took hold of Dakota’s right hand with her left as they went into the house, both of them pausing long enough for her to kiss her mom on the cheek. Inside, they found the kitchen in familiar turmoil. Myrna and Fiona were rolling out piecrusts in the center of the table while Darlene tried to keep her twins, J.J. and Lizzie, from dumping the cat food into the pet’s water dish — but she was too late.

Seeing Sara and Dakota, Darlene pointed a finger at them. “Listen to one who knows, you two. Don’t
ever
have kids!” Then she went chasing after the three-year-old troublemakers who were making a fast getaway up the stairs, giggles ringing in their wake.

Dakota leaned over and whispered in Sara’s ear. “Does she know?”

“Just hopeful,” she whispered in reply.

“We’d better tell them before someone sees your ring.” He squeezed her hand.

With her heart beating double time, the best Sara could do was nod.

He gave her an encouraging grin and led her to the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. Sara’s three brothers were still arguing with her father, their voices blending together in one loud crescendo.

“Hello,” Dakota shouted above the ruckus.

“Dakota!” Eli cried. “I’m sure glad you’re here. Come in and tell these blockheads a thing or two.”

“Be glad to. But first I need to make an announcement.”

Except for the sounds of little children at play upstairs and the low drone of the television, the house went instantly silent. Sara looked from the men in the living room to Darlene, who was standing midway up the staircase, to her mom, Fiona, and Myrna in the kitchen. No one smiled. No one moved.

She could have cut the air with a knife.

He placed his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve asked Sara to marry me, and she said yes.”

Another moment or two of silence, and then the whoops and hollers began. Sara was pulled from Dakota’s embrace and passed from one person to the next, hugged and kissed by everyone. Her ring was ogled and admired and oohed over. Her mother shed a few tears, and so did Sara. She was dizzy by the time she found herself once again beside her fiancé. And from the expression on his face and the traces of lipstick on his cheeks, he’d been subjected to the same jubilant congratulations.

“Have you decided on a date?” Fiona asked.

“Not exactly.” He placed his arm around Sara again and looked down at her with an adoring gaze. “She’s still getting settled in at work, and my mother’ll be working in Seattle for another two or three months. But we’d both like to get married this summer.”

She felt all soft inside, special, loved. A summer wedding. Golden sunshine. Emerald grass. Vibrant-colored flowers.

“Fourth of July’s on a Saturday,” Josh piped up. “That way you’d have the whole country celebrating your anniversary with you every year.”

“Good idea. That way I’d never forget our anniversary, would I?”

“You’d better not forget it,” she warned with a mock frown.

Her brothers groaned in unison.

“Forgetting your anniversary has got to be one of the seven deadly sins,” Tim said. “Trust me on this. Been there. Done that. Darlene still hasn’t forgiven me. Have you, Dar?”

“No way,” his wife answered. “I’m milking it for all it’s worth.”

Dakota’s arm tightened. Sara looked up.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He grinned. “Is July fourth okay with you?”

Sweetheart.
She forgot the question, drowning as she was in the loving look in his eyes and the tenderness in his voice.
I’m his sweetheart.

“Is it, Sara?”

“Is what?”

“Is July fourth okay with you?”

“You could have an outdoor wedding,” Myrna said. “It’s almost always nice on the Fourth of July. They do weddings in the rose garden at Julia Davis Park. It might not be too late to reserve it.”

Eli stepped up beside Dakota and said in a stage whisper, “Giving up your independence on Independence Day. Man, will you ever be in for some ribbing.”

Sara hadn’t taken her gaze from Dakota. He wore a secret smile, a smile that was for her and her alone. She felt it right down to her toes.

“For Pete’s sake, Sara!” Tim exclaimed. “Give the guy an answer. Tell him the fourth is okay.”

“The fourth is okay.”

His grin reminded her of the proverbial cat who’d swallowed the canary.

And then, right in front of her entire family, he said, “I love you, Sara, and I’ll love you till the day I die.”

And he kissed her.

She hardly heard the renewed howls and whoops from her brothers. Only the feel of his mouth on hers and the rapid beating of her heart seemed real.

Kevin stared out of his living room window at the lights of the city. Beethoven played on the stereo. Bob — an ugly mutt of a dog, complete with a missing ear and a bobbed tail, that had adopted him two years before — lay on the floor next to the recliner.

I like Claire, Lord.

In those first years after Irene died, Kevin hadn’t conceived of ever marrying again. When his wife was in the hospital that last time, her kidney failing, she’d told him he should marry again one day. She didn’t want him to be alone.

“It would be a great compliment to me,” she’d said, “if you would.”

He hadn’t understood what she’d meant at the time. But later, he did. They’d been happy. Despite never having children, they’d had a full and joyous marriage. To marry again would be to say he’d been happy as her husband.

He got up from the recliner and walked to the plate glass window. Streamers of white lights flowed along freeways and streets, some drivers making their way home from the city, other drivers coming into the city for events of various kinds.

It had been a long time since he’d felt this emptiness in his home. He’d been satisfied living here with Bob for company. He enjoyed the work he did. He was active in his church. His life was full of interesting people and new challenges.

But I want more.

He’d thought about Claire often while he was out of town. More than he’d expected he would.

Delight yourself in the Lord,
the psalmist had written,
and He will give you the desires of your heart.

Kevin had believed those words all of his life. And he did delight in God, with his whole being. What he didn’t know was whether or not Claire
was
a desire of his heart. He thought she might be. He thought he might want to be more than her friend; he thought she might feel the same. He wanted to find out for certain.

And yet something seemed to be holding him back.

“Why, Lord?” he whispered. “What is it You’re trying to tell me?”

Dakota leaned against the stall door and watched as Sara brushed the big reddish-brown horse.

“Rusty won me plenty of trophies and ribbons,” she said without looking at Dakota. “Didn’t you, boy?”