Until I Found You (31 page)

Eight miles of cliffs, steep slopes, and tight turns.

With her palms damp and her stomach a mess, she turned onto the narrow road, hit a pothole, and slammed on the brakes. Alligator cracks riddled the pavement, and the double-yellow line had been scraped away by snowplows. A canyon loomed in the distance. There was no guardrail, and she’d be in the outer lane. Driving up the center of the road crossed her mind, but Mount Abel attracted amateur astronomers. It was possible she’d encounter a car coming down while she was headed up. There was no way around her fear. She could go forward or back. There was no in-between.

Butterflies swarmed in her belly, and her mouth tasted like metal. Trembling, she pressed the accelerator and rounded the first curve. Instead of potholes and chipped road paint, she saw black velvet asphalt and a glistening double-yellow line. This section of road was brand-new. She wondered why, then realized the snowplows didn’t come this far up the mountain.

Hugging the yellow line, she steered around a hairpin turn and up a steep slope. The tires spun on loose dirt for a split second, but they caught before she had time to be scared. A thick mist dulled the sun, but the yellow line shone bright until the pavement leveled into a dirt road that encircled the campground.

She’d done it. With God’s help, she had reached the top of Mount Abel. Laughter bubbled out of her throat, and her skin broke out in feather-light tingles. Driving slowly around the big loop, she swiveled her head from side to side in search of Nick. She spotted several tents and a big RV, but he was nowhere in sight.

Clinging to hope, she steered to the farthest edge of the campground. As the tires crunched over pine needles, the sun
burst through the mist and turned the water droplets into rainbows. Beams of light crisscrossed through the trees, and diamonds shimmered everywhere. It was beautiful, but most beautiful of all was the sight of Nick’s truck behind a row of pines. Kate parked next to it, climbed out, and hurried to the blue tent zipped up tight against the night. Grinning, but a little afraid because she had hurt him, she called his name.

No answer. No soft snore.

She raised her voice. “Nick? Wake up. It’s me.”

Silence.

Crouching, she unzipped the flap and groaned at the sight of the empty sleeping bag. Desperate to touch him in even a small way, she laid her hand on the pillow and felt a trace of warmth. He had to be nearby, but where? She’d passed the restroom facilities earlier. If he’d gone for a shower, she would have seen him by now. No way could she sit idly and wait for him to return from a hike, not when he could be gone for hours.

Standing straight, she scanned the campground until her gaze landed on an arrow-shaped sign that read, Summit 1/4 mile. Praying he’d be there, she took off at a jog.

N
ick dropped
down on the bench
at the summit of Mount Abel, rubbed an ache out of his neck, and inhaled as deeply as he could. When he had visited this spot a year ago, a pinprick of glory had ended in a spiritual blood transfusion. He was a different man now. But he was still a hundred percent human, and today he was bleeding inside. Sleep had deserted him last night, but there was comfort in prayer and peace in spite of the fear that Kate would choose to stay at Eve’s Garden.

A painful peace . . . but still it was peace.

Closing his eyes, he raised his face to the sky and soaked in the first traces of the day’s warmth. He needed this moment like he needed air, but the beat of footsteps coming up the trail broke his concentration. Scowling, he opened his eyes and peered through a screen of sage to a bend in the narrow path. A flash of auburn hair caught his eye, so did a turquoise sweater like one Kate often wore to the office. There was no way the hiker could be Kate. She’d never make that treacherous drive.

He didn’t want company, so he stood to leave. As he turned,
the woman rounded the last bend and looked up. Huffing and puffing, with her eyes riveted to his and her cheeks flushed pink with exertion, she grinned at him.

He had to be dreaming.
“Kate?”

“I found you!” In spite of the thin air, her voice was exultant and she jogged even faster up the hill. Nick peered down at the top of her head, his mouth slightly agape, and his feet glued in place by the shock. He’d prayed hard last night, but he had never imagined Kate’s finding him on top of Mount Abel.

She climbed the six concrete steps to the observation pad, hunched with her hands on her knees, and sucked air like a distance runner. “I’m so glad . . . you’re here.”

He drank in the sight of her messy hair and glowing face, but what did it mean? Was she here to fling herself into his arms because she’d answered the
why
question, or was this the start of another negotiation? He didn’t know what to think until she straightened her spine. As their eyes met, a smile broke across her face with the force of a cloudless dawn. Her entire countenance was full of joy and life, triumph and love.

The glow spilled on to Nick, and he started to grin. This wasn’t the opening salvo in a new argument. Kate had made that terrifying drive for just one reason. She loved him enough to face her greatest fear. He longed to pull her into his arms, but this was her victory lap, and he wanted to savor the moment with her. There was a time to rush, and a time to go slow. It was up to Kate to set the pace.

“So,” he said in an overly casual tone, “what’s up?”

Airy laughter rippled from her lips. Still breathing hard, she straightened. “Not a whole lot. How about you?”

He shrugged. “Just marking the biggest day of my life. You know how it is. There are days you’ll never forget, the
ones where you make a decision, or you change your mind about something. Or you meet someone you’re destined to be with forever, and somehow you know it.”

Her eyes twinkled into his. “I’ve had a few of those. Like when you see a condor and swerve off a cliff. Or when you think you’re going to die and you ask God if He’s real. Or when a stranger shows up and you see his face and you want”—she blinked away the sheen of tears—“you want so badly to believe in love and forever, that God is real, and that there aren’t any accidents, not really.”

He reached for her hand. “I take it this is one of those days.”

“It is.” She raised her chin. “Eve offered me the vice presidency. I turned it down. In fact, I quit my job entirely. I couldn’t wait to tell you, but you weren’t home. You were already gone, so . . . so here I am.” She gave a little shrug, swallowed hard, and waited for him, just as he’d been waiting for her.

The vulnerable look zinged straight to his heart. This was indeed a day they would never forget. Loving her more than ever, he hauled her into his arms, matched his mouth to hers, and branded them both with a deep kiss.

When she came up for air, he pressed her head to his shoulder. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Never.”

Their breathing synchronized, and they stood strong and steady in each other’s arms until he recalled the road to the campground. Shuddering, he stroked her back. “It took real courage to make that drive.”

“It
was
awful,” she admitted. “It was even harder than walking out on Eve, but I had to see you. You were right. I was there for the wrong reasons.”

He guided her down to the stone bench, where they sat
hip to hip, her hand on his knee and his arm snug around her waist. “Tell me everything.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and took a deep breath. “After Leona’s fall, I was confused and hurt. I thought God had disappeared, so I went back to taking control of my own life. I know God gives us free will and all that, but last night in Eve’s office I finally understood something. The first choice we make is where to put our faith. Do we put it in God, ourselves, or other people? Do we trust Him to order our lives, or do we believe that all this—” sitting straight, she gestured at the mountains and sky with her hand—“that all this happened by accident?”

He turned his head so he could see into her eyes. “And what did you decide?”

“I decided Eve’s a mess, and I don’t want to be like her. Being in charge of my own life didn’t go well, not at all. I almost lost you—” Choking up, she cupped his jaw with her warm fingers, rubbing slightly to feel the bristle. “I hurt you last night. I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know.”

He silenced her with a kiss. “Eve’s a mess, but so am I.”

“I don’t think so—”

“I am.” He meant it. “No pedestals, Kate. Especially not after last night. When I left you in that garden, I lost it. If Sam hadn’t called about a stupid sprinkler system, I’d be camped out at the Black Dog Lounge. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“You didn’t.” She hugged him hard.

“I’m human, Kate. So human it scares me to admit how much I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

A breeze rustled through the pines. Birds chirped all around them, and a feather-white mist swirled in the valley below. He and Kate were specks beneath a sky so blue they had to
squint. A jetliner vectored north. In the distance, the Pacific stretched to the ends of the earth. Today was the official end of his sabbatical, and Kate was at peace with God and herself. Nick couldn’t think of a more fitting time or place to ask her to be his wife.

Drawing her tight against his side, he soaked in the warmth of her body, inhaled the scent of her, then drew back enough to focus on her delicate profile. When he was sure he’d never forget a single detail of this extraordinary morning, he stood and took her hand in his. Gazing into her eyes, he hoped the right words would come, because he hadn’t planned this moment. There would be no speech, no ring, nothing but the awareness that he was asking her to take another leap of faith. Not all marriages lasted, but all things were possible with God.

As her brows arched, Nick dropped to one knee. “Marry me, Kate. Be my wife.”

Instead of squealing with joy and shouting yes, she pressed her free hand to her lips. The silence terrified him until she slid to her knees so they were face-to-face, kneeling before God and each other. The pose acknowledged that they were both specks on a mountain—mere human beings who loved God first, then each other.

Tears glistened in her eyes. “Yes . . . Yes, I’d be honored to be your wife.”

He stood, then lifted her with his hands strong on hers. They stayed still for a moment, their gazes locked until he kissed her. Kate pressed tight against him, and they rejoiced together in the glory of what lay ahead—the joys and surprises, the triumphs and adventures, and the bittersweet knowledge that every road had bumps and tight turns, cliffs, and occasional potholes.

Nick didn’t know how long it took to organize a wedding,
but he hoped it wasn’t a year or even six months. Pulling back from the kiss, he whispered into her ear. “How long?”

“For what?”

“To plan the wedding.”

She eased out of his embrace but held both his hands. “Would you mind terribly if we kept it small?”

“Not a bit.” If it was up to him, they’d elope tonight.

“Good,” she said, bouncing on her toes. “Because what I really want is a small wedding on Leona’s deck with just family, a few friends, and Sam performing the ceremony. How about next Saturday?”

Nick’s brows shot up. “In seven days?”

“Yes.”

Grinning crazily, he picked her up and spun her around. To think they’d be married in just one week. Rejoicing, he threw back his head and laughed at God’s always impeccable timing. “You know me,” he said to Kate. “The faster, the better.”

T
he
morning after taking wedding vows
on Leona’s deck, Kate awoke in her husband’s arms. Staring into Nick’s sleepy eyes, she debated what to do. There were two things on her mind. The first was gloriously private. The other was about the invitation they’d received from Marcus Wilcox. Wistoyo was being released back into the wild today, and Marcus had invited Nick, Kate, and Leona to witness her liberation. Even though the event was the first day of their honeymoon, Kate and Nick had insisted Leona accompany them. To Kate’s surprise, her grandmother said no.

“
You don’t want an old woman tagging along. Besides,
Wistoyo is your bird, not mine.”

Seeing Wistoyo struck Kate as the perfect way to start their honeymoon trip to a resort near Monterey. It had taken a few miracles to arrange a wedding in just seven days, but the pieces came together exactly how she envisioned. She skipped the traditional gown, choosing instead a short white dress with a poufy skirt and jeweled belt. The diamond wedding set on her finger was stunning, and Sam had performed the
traditional ceremony with humor, wisdom, and appropriate gravity.

Just when she thought the day couldn’t get any better, Nick had whispered in her ear that it was time to leave. Alone at last, he carried her over the threshold into his house—their house now. What a beautiful night . . . and today promised yet more blessings.

After breakfast, Nick packed the Harley and they headed to the condor launch site. Just for fun, Kate yelled, “Faster!” He cranked the throttle, and they arrived with a rumble in a cloud of dust.

Just like before, Marcus greeted them and pointed the way to the blind where they had watched Elvis dance for Moon Girl. They climbed side by side up the mountain, only this time Nick made an appreciative remark about her tight jeans and she teased him back. Voices drifted up from the canyon. Reaching for Nick’s hand, Kate looked down at the field workers carrying a cage to a dry streambed.

“It’s almost time,” she said eagerly.

Nick handed her the binoculars. “Wistoyo’s been cooped up for months. I bet she can hardly wait.”

A lump pushed into Kate’s throat, because she knew how Wistoyo felt. Kate, too, had been in a cage of sorts and was savoring her new freedom. When she turned to Nick, he took her hand. They exchanged a long look that said
I love you
without words and
I want you
without guilt. Then he kissed her lips to seal the promise.

In unison they turned back to the ravine. Below them, Marcus opened the door to Wistoyo’s cage. The massive bird stuck her head out, glanced around, strutted forward, and spread her wings to reveal the yellow tag identifying her as Condor Number 53. She flapped those giant wings once, twice, then soared out of the canyon. She rose higher, higher
still, until she caught a thermal. Gliding with no effort of her own, she circled above them, widening the loop with every pass until she broke free and flew north, farther and farther, until she was nothing but a speck. And then she was gone.

Kate lowered the binoculars and squeezed Nick’s hand. Someday she’d write about this moment in a condor journal of her own—a book for their children and grandchildren. She’d tell those generations all about the birds, how she’d met a strong man and learned to fly free at his side.

With a heart full of joy, she thanked God for His grace, His love, and the pinprick of glory named Wistoyo.