“That sounds about right,” Leah said.
“Ida also said that Franklin inherited all two hundred acres.”
“How could that be?”
“I don’t know, but that’s what she said.”
“It doesn’t make any sense.” Leah paused. “I always heard that Cameron was bankrupt when he died. How could he leave anything to Franklin? Or, if he did, then Franklin must have sold it all long before I was born.”
“That’s what I thought, too. But Ida got me curious. I went to the library when I left the party yesterday, and I tried to look up information on the area. I didn’t get very far. It’s quite a research project. I was thinking of asking Kenton if the newspaper has a reference system I could use to look up notices of land sales.”
“Why don’t you just ask Franklin?” Leah asked.
“Do you think he would tell me?”
“Why not? He’s your great-uncle.”
“Has he ever said anything to you about owning lots of land?”
Leah thought a moment before shaking her head. She was beginning to feel chilled. “No, the subject never has come up. And why would he discuss it with me, anyway?”
“Because …” Seth paused before finishing his answer. “I have a feeling you’re in his will.”
“Me? Why on earth would you say that?”
“He likes you a lot. He said something the other day about planning to reward you for all your decades of kindness to him. That’s when I still thought you were his sixty-year-old girlfriend.”
Leah shook her head. She felt like telling Seth he didn’t know what he was talking about. “I’m sure Franklin’s idea of rewarding me would be with a candy bar or tickets to the movies. He did that once when I was in high school. He called the theater in Edgefield and arranged for the manager to send me two passes.”
“Do you think that’s it?” Seth said. “A candy bar or a movie?”
Leah tried to make out Seth’s expression in the hazy light.
“What? You think he’s going to leave me his house when he dies? No thank you. It took me months to clean out my parents’ house and get it ready to put on the market. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”
“Did you hear that?” Seth said, looking behind them. “We woke up the birds.”
Leah listened to the melodic twittering and felt as if this chilly, barren hill had just warmed. With a lighter tone to her voice, she said, “Let me know if you find out anything interesting about this area and what Cameron Madison actually owned. I’d be curious to know.”
Seth nodded.
She could see him more clearly now in the approaching light of the dawn. Leah wished she could read his thoughts.
What does Seth think of me? Am I merely a “happy camper” to him? Someone to keep him company? Or is he attracted to me the way I’m attracted to him?
Leah thought about how she had freely given Seth her secrets a few nights ago. Now Seth insinuated that Franklin also had secrets. Seth seemed to have an exceptional ability to uncover information. If Franklin had money, Seth would find out. And then what would happen?
Leah shivered, even though the morning sun was breaking through the clouds and pouring out a pale, golden glow across the valley.
I hope with all my heart that I can trust you, Seth Edwards.
Chapter Eleven
Very early on the first day of the week, they came to the tomb when the sun had risen,’ ” Seth read to Leah from his thin, leather-bound Bible that he had pulled from his coat’s inside pocket.
He looked up and surveyed the valley before them, which was now flooded with light. “When the Son of God had risen,” Seth said more to himself than to Leah. “The light of the world.”
Snapping out of his private thoughts, Seth returned his attention to the passage in the Gospel of Mark and read the rest of the resurrection account.
Leah thought his voice was easy to listen to, and she enjoyed hearing the recounting of the first Easter and how the women went to the garden tomb early in the morning to seek Jesus. But Jesus wasn’t in the grave. He was alive. Christ was resurrected and walking among them without their knowing it.
By the time Seth had finished reading, the world around them was filled with a soft, diffused light. Thin clouds hung over their heads, making the golden sun on the horizon even more spectacular.
“Amen,” Seth pronounced when he had finished reading. “Amen and amen! He is risen!” Seth stood and declared.
“He is risen indeed,” Leah echoed, rising to her feet. She remembered answering with that phrase on Easter morning when she was a child. The children of Glenbrooke Community Church used to be invited to sit through the Easter morning service. When the pastor ended his short sermon with, “He is risen,” all the children took their cue to jump to their feet and at the top of their voices answer, “He is risen indeed!” The opportunity to yell in church after sitting under the intoxicating influence of a hundred pungent Easter lilies always gave Leah a rush.
This morning the memory gave Leah the idea of bringing in a few Easter lilies for her toddlers class. The church no longer included the little ones in the service, which now ran an hour and a half instead of an hour. Her young friends would enjoy the chance to jump up and shout.
Leah noticed that Seth had set his face toward the valley below. They stood in silence, both taking in the vastness of the lush green spread before them. She stood close enough to him that he could have put his arm around her shoulders if he chose to, but he didn’t.
“Can you imagine what old Cameron must have thought when he first gazed on this?” Seth asked.
“I can’t imagine,” Leah said. She was thinking how dearly she needed Seth to put his arm around her. Then she would know he was thinking of her as fondly as she was thinking of him. She would be able to trust him again.
“Look at that perfect blue ribbon,” Seth said, lost in a world beyond the one where he and Leah now stood.
Leah drew in her vulnerable feelings and said, “That’s Heather Creek. It’s full this year because we had a wet winter. Over to the left, do you see that forest? A gorgeous waterfall lies just on the other side of those trees.”
“Really? A waterfall?”
“Yes. You would never guess the land drops off enough for a large waterfall. And the meadow there in the middle is behind the main lodge of Camp Heather Brook. It’s too far away to see the lodge, but it’s there.”
“What about the woodlands on the right?” Seth asked.
“That’s a beautiful area,” Leah said. “I’ve only been there once. The camp doesn’t own it, but they want to buy it. Shelly told me they have plans to add a junior camp. What they want to do is make it a tree house camp. Isn’t that a fun idea? I would have loved to spend the night in a tree house when I was in grade school.”
“Who owns it?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure Jonathan and Shelly know. Actually, Kyle is the one who is handling buying the property. He and Jessica bought the land for Camp Heather Brook about five years ago.”
“Really,” Seth said, stroking his chin. “Interesting.”
They lingered on the knoll only a few more minutes. Seth remained distant, preoccupied in a world of thoughts to which Leah didn’t have a passport to enter.
She knew her emotions were too far out in front of reality. They needed to go away. And quickly. But in the same way that she had done nothing to bid them to take center stage in her life, she felt powerless to make them leave.
If Seth isn’t going to reciprocate or indicate that he’s interested in me, I should pull back. Now, before I get hurt.
“We probably should get going,” Seth said, picking up the flashlight and bending to tie his boot laces.
“Right,” Leah agreed.
They drove home with Seth lost in his thoughts and Leah struggling with her feelings. She noticed he held the steering wheel with his right arm fully extended. His knuckles were large, and his fingers were thick
and rugged.
She wanted Seth to say something when he dropped her off at her house. Something promising like “When can I see you again?” or “I loved being with you this morning.” But all he said was, “Don’t forget your thermos.”
In a way, it was a good thing she didn’t linger to talk with Seth because Leah had just enough time to change for church, gather up the clean nursery toys, and dash out the door. When she arrived at the nursery, the first, dressed-up toddler already was there with his parents. He was clutching the head of a chocolate Easter bunny in his fist.
She had to forgo the fragrant Easter lilies, but she did get the fourteen children going with a rousing, “He is risen, indeed!” yelling session.
All her friends wished her a happy Easter, and she received three invitations for Easter dinner. But she turned each one down, waiting in the classroom until the church halls were empty. She kept hoping Seth would show up as he had Friday night.
When he didn’t come sauntering down the hall, Leah closed up her room and went to the parking lot. Her car was the last one.
She ended up going to Kyle and Jessica’s since she knew they wouldn’t mind if she reconsidered their earlier invitation. She spent the afternoon, along with nine other guests, dining on ham, scalloped potatoes, green beans, and gourmet chocolate Easter eggs in the Buchanans’ formal dining room. They all lingered at the table, telling stories, bouncing children on their knees, and laughing at Jessica every time she scolded Kyle for slipping table scraps to Lady and her last, unspoken-for puppy.
Travis called the puppy “Skipper.” He was supposed to stay in the laundry room, but he kept mysteriously “skipping” into the dining room behind Lady, who knew that Kyle would be the soft touch when it came to table scraps.
Little Sara settled herself on Leah’s lap and nodded off as the conversation continued around the table. The afternoon sunshine danced through the lace curtains, sprinkling Sara’s back and Leah’s legs with a delicate pattern of fairy light. Leah kissed the top of Sara’s head and thought how perfect all this was. The only element missing was Seth. He would have enjoyed this. A real family. A big, holiday dinner. Where was he? With Franklin? By any chance was Seth thinking of her? She was mad at herself for not taking the initiative to invite him to Kyle and Jessica’s. They gladly would have welcomed him. Why didn’t she think of it sooner?
From Sunday afternoon until Leah saw Seth again on Tuesday, she went through a gigantic loopty-loop of emotions. She wanted to see Seth. Did he want to see her? Why hadn’t he called? Should she call him?
On Monday she decided to make cookies for him. That would give her an excuse to stop by his work on Tuesday and see him. She didn’t know exactly what she would say, but it would come to her. What guy didn’t like receiving a batch of homemade cookies?
All the ingredients were lined up on her kitchen counter when Leah felt overwhelmed with feelings of rejection. If Seth wanted to see her again, he would have called her. How could she have been so foolish as to think he had been captivated by her the way she was captivated by him? She knew she had frivolously allowed herself to dream about Seth in the first place. She was only setting herself up for defeat.
Leah bent over the sink and began to cry. She knew this feeling. It was anger. Anger at having her goals blocked. Her wishes would never come true nor would her prayers ever be answered. A man like Seth would never be interested in someone like her. She was mad that he had come into her house and sat on her couch and called her George. She was angry with herself for admitting her secret about being the Glenbrooke Zorro.
Hula padded into the kitchen and stood beside Leah, comforting her as her tears fell. “Why did I do it, Hula? Why did I let myself open up like that? Why?”
Leah didn’t trust herself to make cookies in her emotional state. She didn’t trust herself to do anything. She hated the power of her feelings. The only way to gain control over them was to shut them down, to allow the old tapes to play themselves over in her mind, reminding her that she “had neither the frame nor frame of mind to attract anyone stable.” “Behold, it was Leah.”
By the time Leah saw Seth again Tuesday night at the Little League game, she successfully had shut down all her feelings. The evening was cool and drizzly, and the bleachers were dotted with umbrellas. Definitely a smaller crowd had gathered for this game than had been there the week before. Seth showed up at the Snack Shack during the second inning and bought a hot chocolate.
“I guess you’re not doing much of a Sno-Kone business tonight, are you?” Seth asked.
“No. You’re my tenth hot chocolate order,” Leah said.
“Is this pretty typical spring weather for this area?” he asked, while he stood there with his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Yes, sometimes the rain hangs on through June.”
“What you’re trying to tell me is that my first week here was just a tease. It’s usually not that sunny and nice.”
You got that right, Leah thought, as she turned her back on him to stir the cocoa mix in the boiling water. Your first week was just a tease for both of us.
She handed him the cocoa and matter-of-factly said, “Be careful; it’s hot. We don’t print a warning on our cups, so I have to make sure you hear me say it’s hot.”
“Got it.”
Leah thought he would turn to go, but he stood there under the metal awning, sipping his cocoa and not saying anything. Several other customers came up in search of something warm, and Leah made more hot chocolate and a few burritos.
“I spent Easter Sunday with Franklin,” Seth offered after Leah had passed a cup of cocoa on to the last waiting customer. “We had a nice time. He wanted me to ask if you would come by to see him sometime this week.”
“Is he okay?”
“He seems okay to me. He said he wanted to talk with you about something that couldn’t wait until May Day when you came by with your annual bouquet.”
“Did he say what it was about?”
“No. I didn’t ask.”
“Thanks for relaying the message,” Leah said. “I’ll check in on him this week.” She went back to inventorying the candy bars, which is what she had been doing when Seth walked up.
“I guess you’re not going to need help with the crowd after the game this week.”
“No. Thanks anyway.” Leah knew she sounded curt. Mild indifference was the only safe route for her. She refused to let her feelings rise to the surface.
“I guess I’ll be on my way,” Seth said. “I’ll see you around.”
“See you around.”
As soon as Seth was gone, she felt depressed.
What did you think he was going to do? Ask you out to dinner? Invite you to sail off into the sunset on his private yacht? See what happens when you let your emotions get all gushy, and you start wishing on planets and opening yourself up? You set yourself up for failure, Leah. You set your course on a road that eventually will become a dead end. Why do that to yourself?
Leah suddenly realized the words playing in her head weren’t her words. The phrases about setting herself up for failure and setting a course on a dead-end road were her father’s words. He had used them in a lecture to her years ago when she first announced she wanted to go to college.
But look, Leah prompted herself, I did go to college. And I finished! It wasn’t a dead-end road for me. I didn’t set myself up for failure.
If she had a place to sit in the tiny Snack Shack, Leah would have let herself down with a thud. This was earth-shaking news. Not all of her father’s predictions about her life were necessarily true. Perhaps the predictions her sister had made of her weren’t true either. Could it be she wasn’t destined to fulfill everyone else’s expectations of her?
Leah stood still and whispered, “Could that be true?” Her question was directed at God, the heavenly Father with whom she had maintained a cordial distance.
Chapter Twelve
Leah didn’t receive any thundering answers from the
heavens about whether her family’s prophecies regarding her destiny were all true. She didn’t expect any thunder. But Glenbrooke did receive a sudden downpour of rain that caused the game to be called. She closed up the Snack Shack and ran to her car.
The rain continued through the night and was still coming down when she left for work the next morning. She didn’t know if it was the darkness of the skies or the overpowering revelation she had discovered last night, but she felt sapped of energy. The week had been emotionally draining.
Leah sat at the front admissions desk, forcing herself to catch up on phone calls to fill out insurance forms. She dialed the number listed for a patient and was checking her notes on what missing information she needed, when a robust male voice on the other end of the line said, “WPZQ, where the hits just keep on coming. And your name?”
“Ah, this is Leah Hudson from Glenbrooke General Hos—”
Before she could explain for whom she was calling, the booming voice said, “Well, congratulations, Leah Hudson! You are caller number nine, and you have just won the WPZQ bonus jackpot!”
A chorus of chipmunk voices sang into her ear, “You won! You won! You really, really won!”
“That’s right!” The enthusiastic radio announcer said. “Leah Hudson, you have just won an exciting cruise for yourself and a friend to—are you ready for this?—Alaska!”
The chipmunk voices sang out again. “You won! You won! You really, really won!”
“What do you have to say, Leah Hudson?”
Leah was speechless.
The announcer jumped in. “You’re on the air, so go ahead and tell all the listeners what you think of the hottest station in the nation playing all the hits all the time.”
“Um, I, ah, the number I dialed … it’s …”
The announcer broke in with deep laughter. “I think our winner is in shock, folks. Winning the WPZQ jackpot can have that effect on a person. Nevertheless …”