Everyone enjoyed the idea, and again Ashley was reminded of how much they all had. It was hard to imagine that only seven years ago she’d come back from Paris pregnant and alone, the black sheep of the Baxter family. Back then she and Kari might’ve looked alike, but they had nothing in common. She never could have guessed that one day they’d be as close as they were now.
“I was at practice the other day, and I saw Brooke and Peter, playing at the school park with Maddie and Hayley.” Ryan got back down on his knees and started painting again. “I can’t believe Maddie’s starting second grade in the fall.”
“Hayley’s doing better; wouldn’t you say?” Ashley was working on the door of the general store, taking care with the hinges and handle so they’d appear lifelike. “Brooke’s still seeing patients only three days a week, and she and Peter have a therapist coming in Monday through Friday for Hayley.”
“I know.” Ryan looked up, his eyes shining. “I took a break from the football field and jogged over to tell them hello.” His voice sounded thick. “Hayley grinned at me and said, ‘Hi, Uncle Ryan!’ I almost started crying right there.”
They were all quiet for a moment, considering the distance Hayley had come since her near drowning two years earlier. She was still in a wheelchair, but she could crawl from one side of the room to the other and pull herself up. According to Brooke, Hayley’s therapists expected her to regain the ability to walk one day.
“No one ever asks this.” Ryan lowered his brow, his expression serious. “But do they think she’ll get everything back? Her cognitive powers, physical abilities, all of it?”
Kari looked up from the blue river she was still working on. “No one knows. No one but God.” She shrugged and shook her head. “That drowning should’ve killed her. Every bit of progress is another miracle, really.”
They all agreed about that, and for a while they painted in comfortable silence.
After a long while, Landon asked Ryan about his football team, how they looked for the coming fall. As they talked, Ashley remembered the strange scene that had played out between her and their father in his closet the other day.
“Did I tell you about being in Dad’s closet?” Ashley moved on to the town post office, the building next to the general store.
Kari twisted her face and giggled. “You were in Dad’s closet?”
“Well—” Ashley exhaled hard and stifled a laugh—“I wasn’t just standing there.” She stuck her tongue out at Kari. “I was opening windows in Mom and Dad’s room, and I heard something rustling on the top shelf of their closet. I looked and it was a box of letters.”
“Letters?” Kari stopped painting and met Ashley’s eyes. “From who?”
“From lots of people. Friends and relatives, Christmas cards, and lots of letters from Dad to Mom, or from her to Dad.”
“How come I never knew about that?” Kari fiddled with her paintbrush. “You’d think Mom would’ve showed them to us.”
“The box was pretty far back on the shelf. I don’t think she showed anyone.” Ashley felt her shoulders fall a little. “Maybe she ran out of time.”
“Maybe.” Kari took a sad-sounding breath. “Anyway, what happened?”
Ashley dipped the tip of her brush into a can of yellow paint and flicked it against the post office walls, creating texture on what was supposed to look like old wood slats. She finished one section and looked at Kari. “So I take a letter from the box and it’s from Dad, something he wrote to Mom after Luke was born.”
“Dad’s always been thoughtful that way.” Kari’s hair hung along the side of her face as she used a darker blue to accent the river. “Anyway . . .”
“Anyway, I’m reading it—you know, stuff about how Luke’s birth completed the family—and I’m just getting to the sentimental stuff when Dad walks in and sort of freaks out.”
Kari gave her a sideways look and tossed her hair off her face. “What do you mean?”
“Well, he gives me this strange look, and it scared me, you know? I mean, I was in the house all alone and I didn’t hear him come in. So the letter drops and I pick it up.” She soaked a little more yellow into her brush and looked at Kari. “He takes the letter from me, glances at it, folds it back up, and puts it back in the envelope.”
“I can see that. Those are Mom’s precious things. Maybe he was too surprised to find you in there reading the letters, and he didn’t think about whether you wanted to finish it or not.”
“Maybe.” Ashley added texture to the other side of the post office. “But then he goes into this thing about how I shouldn’t read Mom’s letters, and none of us should read them, and maybe he’ll put together an album for us one day, make copies of the best ones, so we can all see them.” She raised her brows. “I felt like saying, ‘That’s okay, just let me finish the one in your hand.’ But before I could say anything he took the box and buried the letter somewhere in the middle.” She hesitated and met Kari’s eyes. “I had the definite feeling he didn’t want me reading it.”
“Hmmm. Strange.” Kari sat up and slid back so she could work on the next section of river. “I wonder what it said.”
“That’s what I want to know.” Ashley finished the trim on the post office and moved a few feet to the side. The town jail was next. “Or maybe it wasn’t what was in the letter. Maybe it’s like you said, and he just doesn’t want us rifling through Mom’s things without his knowing about it.”
“Could be.”
“And something else bugged me that day.” She was using a reddish brown to paint the jail walls first. “Dad missed the eleven o’clock service, remember?”
“I remember.” Kari’s face was close to the canvas, studying the areas where Ashley had penciled in that a different color was needed. “I never did hear what happened.”
“Well, what happened was that Dad went to the earlier service with some of Mom’s volunteer friends.” Ashley got up on her knees and surveyed the row of buildings she’d been working on. Ten feet away, the men were doing a fantastic job on the trees, careful not to cover up the highlights and branches she’d already painted. She looked at Kari. “Mom’s volunteer friends. Does that ring a bell?”
“Not really.” Kari stopped and propped her paintbrush on the can. “Should it?”
“I don’t know. It did for me.” Ashley shifted positions and spread her legs out on either side of the building she was painting. “I guess Dad’s been doing stuff with a group of them sort of often. Last Sunday it was early church and a walk down at Lake Monroe.”
“That’s good, I guess.” Kari tilted her face. “Who’s in the group?”
“A bunch of people, most of them retired. Back in the day when Mom had her first fight with cancer, she would see these people come through with gift packs and encouragement. One on a Monday, another two on a Wednesday, that sort of thing.”
“I remember. When she was better, she joined them and helped out once a week or so.”
“Right.” Ashley switched brushes. “Each of them had lost someone they love to cancer.”
“Hope Lives—wasn’t that what they called themselves?”
Ashley snapped her fingers. “That’s it. I couldn’t remember.” She leaned closer to the canvas and studied the jail she was working on. “Anyway, guess who’s in the group?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Elaine Denning.”
“Mom’s friend? The one who used to come over for tea once in a while?”
“Yes.” Ashley pursed her lips. “I never liked that woman.”
“Why not?” Kari didn’t look up. “She seemed nice enough.”
“She’s a widow; that’s why.” Ashley’s voice was louder than before, and she forced herself to bring it down. “She’s been a widow for ten years.”
“So?”
“So I always thought she was a little too chatty with Dad, you know?”
Kari set her brush down on the can again and sat up on her knees. “You think Dad’s interested in her?”
&nbs
p; “I asked him.” She made a guilty face. “He didn’t like that too much. He said he wasn’t interested, wasn’t dating. Nothing like that.”
“Ashley.” Kari had the tone of a scolding parent. “You shouldn’t have asked. Of course he’s not dating. There’d never be anyone for him but Mom.”
“I guess.” Ashley dipped her brush into a darker paint and began working on the jail bars. “The whole scene just felt weird.” She finished that part of the building. “You don’t think Dad’ll ever remarry, do you?”
“Dad?” Kari picked up her brush and began painting again. “Never. Not in a million years. What he and Mom had was too special.”
They painted in quiet for a few minutes. Ashley was just going to tell her about their mother’s chair in the closet, but it was too sad. Her eyes blurred with tears, and she had to blink three or four times to see the canvas clearly. Finally she sat back on her heels and sniffed. “I miss her so much.”
Kari put her arm around Ashley’s shoulders and leaned her head close. “Me too. It’s okay to miss her, Ash.”
Ryan and Landon stood up then and walked over to Kari, then Ashley. They both had a familiar teasing gleam in their eyes. “Well, it’s official.” Landon wiggled his sock foot against Ashley’s.
“What?” She sniffed again and wiped her fingers beneath her eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was impossible to stay sad too long when Ryan and Landon got together. “What’s official?”
“As of right now—” Ryan puffed his chest out and grinned—“the men have covered more canvas than the women.” He put his arm around Landon. “And I think ours is brighter.”
“Better,” Landon corrected.
“Right.” He bowed toward Kari. “Better.”
“Really?” Kari moved back to her painting spot and gave the guys a skeptical look.
“Really.” They both said it in unison, looking at each other and giving mock checks back at their work. Landon gave a thumbs-up to them. “No doubt about it.”
“Let’s see.” Ashley winked at Kari. She stood and surveyed the painted sections of the backdrop. Then she threw her hands up and looked at Kari again. “The guys are right. They’re faster and better.”
“Wow.” Kari frowned, trying to play along. “What should we do?”
Ashley set her brush down and dusted off her hands. “We might as well go out for ice cream and let the guys finish. Why compete?”
“True.” Kari stood up and set her brush down.
They were walking off the stage when Ashley glanced back over her shoulder. Ryan winced in Landon’s direction, at which point Landon jabbed Ryan in the ribs and mouthed the words Nice going.
Ryan cleared his throat and took a few fast steps toward them. “Hey, girls . . .” He forced a friendly laugh. “Did we say we were faster and better?” He looked at Landon and back to Ashley and Kari. “What we meant was, we’re no match for you, not even on our best day.”
“Was that what you meant?” Kari put her hands on her hips.
“Yeah,” Landon chimed in. “Not even on our best day.”
Kari and Ashley linked arms and laughed. Then they turned and headed back to their spots. “Don’t worry.” Ashley tossed her hands. “You probably are faster and better.” She smiled at Kari. “But our conversation makes up for it.”
A ringing sound came from Ashley’s purse a few feet away. She darted over to it, grabbed her phone, and opened it. “Hello?”
“Ash, it’s Luke.” Her brother’s voice sounded rich and warm and close enough to be next door. “How are you?”
“Luke! It’s so good to hear your voice.” She looked around at the others, each of them still standing, enjoying a moment to stretch before getting back to work. “I’m fine. I’m here at the theater painting a backdrop with Landon and Kari and Ryan.”
“Sounds like fun.” Luke gave a light laugh. “I can never tell what you’ll be doing, Ash.”
The other three waved and mumbled quiet hellos.
“Can you hear everyone, Luke? We all say hi. How are you?”
“I’m good. Tommy’s talking up a storm, and Reagan’s feeling great.” He paused. “She wanted me to call and tell you our news.”
“News?” Ashley’s mouth fell open and stayed that way. She held her breath. Were they . . . ?
“We’re adopting!” He hooted loud enough that Landon, Kari, and Ryan all came closer, their expressions wide with curiosity. “The birth mother is due in February.”
Ashley screamed and danced in a tight circle. Then she waved the phone at the others. “More Baxter kids!” Suddenly she thought of something. “You can still come for Christmas, right?”
Luke chuckled. “I figured you’d think of that.” He caught his breath. “Yes, the mother should still be six weeks away at that point, so we’re planning on it.”
“Yippee!” Ashley jogged in place for a few seconds. “Luke, I’m so happy for you. Tell Reagan we’re thrilled. We wish we could be there to hug you both.”
The conversation lasted a few more minutes, and when she hung up, she shared all the details with the group. The mood was upbeat and happy, the conversation jumping from their children to the cruise Ashley and Landon were set to take in July.
It was just after nine o’clock when they finished the backdrop. They all agreed it was a work of art, and Ashley could hardly wait for Katy Hart to get a look at it.
It wasn’t until that night when Landon was brushing his teeth that Ashley walked into Cole’s dark room and sat on the edge of the bed. The conversation with Kari came back again, the one about her father and his closet and the way they all missed their mom.
She slid her fingers through Cole’s wispy blond hair. Life moved so fast. Wasn’t it just her turn to be pregnant with little Coley? Even more, weren’t she and Luke just little kids, closer than any of the other Baxter kids? She sighed.
And now her little brother was about to have a second baby.
Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. The night had been so good; it made no sense that she was crying. She leaned down and rubbed her damp cheek against Cole’s. He was so big now, reasoning and acting like a schoolboy, not the little tyke he’d been those early years.
He stirred and shifted his head so his opposite cheek was against the pillow.
“Grandma loved you so much, Cole.” Her words were a whisper. “I hope she can see you from heaven, what a wonderful boy you’re growing up to be.”
He sighed and the hint of a smile played on his lips.
Ashley closed her eyes. “Jesus, don’t ever let him forget her. Please.”
There was a sound behind her and she opened her eyes. Landon stood in the doorway, the light from the hallway hitting his back. She could see the compassion in his eyes even in the shadows.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” She patted the spot beside her.
Landon sat down next to her. He put his arm around her and smoothed his hand against the back of her head. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I don’t know.” She did a quiet moan. “Just thinking. What with Luke and Reagan adopting and life moving on.” She touched Cole’s hair again. “Cole’s growing up so fast. Just all of it, I guess.”
He kissed her cheek. “I heard you and Kari talking earlier. About your mom.”
“Yeah.” She pressed her face against his. “I guess it’s that too.” A new wave of tears came. “I want her to see Cole grow up and little Ryan get his first teeth and Hayley able to recognize people.” A quiet sob caught in her throat. “And . . . and Luke’s new little baby.”
“Ah, honey.” He held her tighter.
“We still need her, Landon.” Another few sobs slipped out. “Why would God take her?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered, using his free hand to dry the tears from her face. “We’ll never know this side of heaven.”
They stayed that way for a while, and then Ashley turned to him. “What would I
do without you?” She was calmer now, her tears subsiding. She searched his eyes. “I almost let you get away. I would’ve lost you forever.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.” He brushed his knuckles against the side of her face and dried the last of her tears. He slowly moved his thumb down until he was tracing the outline of her lips. “God would’ve found some way to make me stay.” A familiar wanting filled his eyes. “At least until you figured out how much you loved me.”
She said nothing in response. Instead she brought her lips to his, and as the intensity of the kiss grew, they were both carried on a wave of passion.
He drew back, breathless, his eyes dark with desire. “You know what I’m glad about?”
“What?” She kissed him again, first his upper lip, then his lower lip, then his chin. Cole was sound asleep, but she was careful to be quiet, anyway.
“I’m glad we waited until we were married.” He touched his lips to her neck and then looked at her again. “I think that’s why loving you gets better every day.”
“I’m glad we waited too.” She smiled, and even though the sadness remained, it was buried back where it belonged. “But you know what?”
“What?” He kissed the other side of her neck.
She leaned her head back, consumed with him. Her words were throaty, barely a whisper. “We don’t have to wait now, Mr. Blake.”
His lips found hers again. “No, we don’t.” And with that, he stood, took her by the hand, and led her down the hallway to their bedroom, where they spent the night celebrating love and life and marriage.
Marriage the way God intended it to be.
CKT classes felt wild and out of control that Thursday, and it seemed to Katy that she’d been gone from her Bloomington life for a month. As part of the CKT program, every session involved classes on acting, singing, and dancing, all held at Bloomington Community Church, just like the play rehearsals. Kids had to be enrolled in classes before they could audition for a play. Usually by now the classes would all be working out the details for their showcase night—a compilation of ten-minute performances from each class.