Her Minnesota Man (A Christian Romance Novel) (42 page)

She sat quietly for a few more minutes and thought about her mother. Everyone agreed that Hannah Ryland had died bravely. But what was even more admirable, Laney now realized, was that her mother had
lived
bravely. She had learned to depend on God, and through obedience to him, she had discovered contentment and even joy.

"Lord," Laney whispered as she rubbed tears from her cold cheeks, "teach me how to trust you the way she did."

When the fresh autumn breeze pushed Jeb's hood from her head and tugged at her curls, she barely noticed. She sat very still, marveling at the warmth spreading inside her.

"Thank you," she whispered as peace seeped into her heart.

A
s Thanksgiving came and went, Caroline was proud of the way Laney held her chin up even though her heart was broken. The girl was maturing fast, and she was beginning to demonstrate a remarkable faith in God.

Her financial difficulties were only increasing. She was now thinking about selling her house and most of her furniture and moving into a modest apartment. And bless her heart, she wasn't even crying about that. Not as far as the Graces could tell.

Christmas arrived, and although Jeb hadn't called Laney in two whole months, he'd sent her a beautiful hand-sewn quilt that must have cost the earth. Caroline managed to peek at the card accompanying it, which read:

Merry Christmas, Lane
y.

I thought you might like this for your hope chest.

I
want to call you, but I'm afraid I'd blurt out what I'm working on, and I want it to be a surprise. In the meantime, I think about you and pray for you every single day.

Love, Jeb

Caroline didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed by the cryptic note. Whatever his surprise was supposed to be, the boy was making a big mistake by not calling. And what was that business about Laney's hope chest? Was he asking her to wait for him, or was he telling her to find another man?

Laney didn't appear to know, but she
was
holding up admirably. She was Hannah's daughter, that was for sure.

A week after Christmas, Laney's building sold for a decent price. The buyer paid cash and wanted possession right away, so at the end of the second week of January, Laney closed the Three Graces Tearoom for good. She sold the kitchen equipment and the furniture at auction, along with every bit of the pretty English bone china she had helped Hannah collect just a few pieces at a time.

Prior to selling the china, Laney had urged the Graces to choose a tea set for themselves, as a memento. They'd been glad to do that. But then Caroline had noticed the poor girl wasn't keeping anything for herself.

Some things hurt too much to remember
, Laney had said. And Caroline, who hadn't been a crybaby even when she
was
a baby, had had to turn away and wipe something out of her eye.

But the girl would heal, and she'd get that tea set back just as soon as her great-aunts slipped away to Glory.

For now, though, she was still young, and it was high time she started chasing some dreams.

Especially that long-legged dream who'd stolen her heart and then forgotten how to use a telephone.

Caroline didn't think God had closed the door on that romance. No, those silly kids had just messed things up somehow. So wasn't it a good thing they had the Three Graces to help them find their way back to each other?

After spending weeks praying about the matter and considering it from every angle, Caroline had finally conceived a good plan. So one evening in late January as she and her sisters sat in their living room with their television blaring the evening news, she cleared her throat meaningfully.

Millie's knitting needles stilled.

Aggie lowered her newspaper.

Caroline settled Frankie Five more comfortably on her lap. "We're going to find Jeb," she announced. "And then we're going to bring him home."

A slow, satisfied smile curled
Aggie's
mouth. She folded her newspaper and laid it on the coffee table. Then she picked up the TV remote and turned off the news program.

"But how can we find him?" Worry deepened the wrinkles in Millie's forehead. "If we ask Laney for his phone number, she'll want to know why we want it. And when we tell her why we want it, she won't give it to us."

"True," Caroline said. "That's why we'll be hiring a private investigator to find him."

"That's your great plan?" Aggie rolled her eyes. "Caro, Laney's sure to have his number stored on her cell phone. All we need to do is get into her purse when she's not looking, and—"

"We are not getting into her purse," Caroline said sternly. "That would be sneaking."

"Sneaking?" Aggie snorted. "What would you call hiring a private investigator to find her boyfriend?"

"I'd call it fun!" Millie clapped her hands. "Let's do it!"

Aggie lowered her head and peered over her glasses at Caroline. "You already looked at her phone, didn't you?"

Caroline petted Frankie Five and stared at the blank television screen.

"So what was the problem?" Aggie persisted. "Doesn't she have his number stored?"

"She's got one of those fancy phones," Caroline muttered.

"Ah," Aggie said knowingly. "You couldn't figure out how to access the directory."

Even at the grown-up age of 79, little sisters could be annoying. Caroline sniffed and tossed her head.

"Sneaky." Millie looked at Caroline with undisguised admiration.

"So we're agreed then." Caroline raised an eyebrow at Aggie to discourage further objections. "We're hiring a private eye."

"They're not called that anymore, Caro." Millie gave her head a regretful little shake as she went back to her knitting. "They don't wear suits and hats, either, which is a crying shame. I always liked seeing a man in a hat."

"Bogart as Sam Spade." Aggie nodded approvingly. "Now
there
was a man."

"Never mind that," Caroline said. "
Think
. Who do we know that knows a private investigator?"

Tapping a finger against her chin, Aggie suddenly brightened. "We could try Hillary Graham's new husband's brother," she said, referring to the best man at a wedding the Graces had brought about just last year. "Remember? The Minneapolis police detective on permanent disability after being shot in the back? I think Hillary said he was some kind of computer wizard, and that could be real handy."

"I'd forgotten about him," Millie said. "He seemed like a nice boy. If he's still not married, we should—"

"We'll find somebody for him," Caroline assured her. "But right now, our priority is Jeb. Let's give Hillary a call and ask her to put us in touch with the cop. If he can't help us, he's sure to know somebody who can."

"But what will we do after we find out where Jeb is?" Millie asked.

Aggie's
arms jiggled as she pumped two fists in the air. "Road trip!"

Millie looked worried again. "Aren't we getting a little old to be gallivanting around the country? He's probably in Los Angeles, you know, and that's a long way. We'd have to go over mountains to get there."

"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket." Aggie pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. "At our age, we could do with a little excitement."

"Just calling him on the phone might not get us the results we want," Caroline explained to her youngest sister. "We're going to have to show up in person."

"With pie," Aggie said.

Caroline inclined her head in agreement.

Millie still looked troubled. "So we just show up—with pie—and tell him Laney's pining for him and he needs to come home?"

"That's the plan," Caroline said.

Aggie nodded supportively.

Millie shook her head. "But what if he just eats the pie and doesn't come?"

"He'll come," Caroline said. "Don't you remember how that boy humbled himself to ask for our advice? Millie, only True Love could have driven him to that."

"All righty, then." Millie rolled up her knitting and stuffed it into the bag at her feet. "Let's get busy and hire ourselves a private eye!"

Jeb didn't need the burst of applause from the five people in the recording studio's control room to tell him he'd just laid down a great vocal track.

"Amazing. What a voice!" Seated at the mixing console, beefy and bald Justin Kramer shook his head at Jeb through the glass wall separating them. "I loved the raw edge on that last line."

"My voice cracked," Jeb told his producer as he reached for the coffee mug he'd set on a ledge in the tiny vocal booth. He swallowed some lukewarm coffee and then said, "Let's do it one more time."

"No, this one was really good." Justin traded glances with the audio engineer next to him. "Let's hear the playback."

"No
, that's okay
." Maybe Justin was right. Besides, the song was hard on Jeb's voice, and he'd already sung it five times. He couldn't afford a blowout when he had to track lead vocals on four more songs before he and the guys started on the background vocals.

"Let's move on," he said. They had already been in the recording studio three weeks longer than they'd planned, and they were over budget to a degree that gave Jeb the cold sweats whenever he allowed himself to think about it. "I'm sorry it took me so many tries to get this one right."

"It takes as long as it takes," Justin said with a shrug. "Jonathan believes in you, and my orders are to make a good record." Justin's gold tooth flashed as he grinned. "We'll just have to make sure the big guy listens to the finished product before we present him with the bill."

It felt good to be recording again, and it was even more satisfying to be doing it with a bunch of Christians. The three guys in Jeb's new band could practically read his mind, and their playing was so tight that everyone who heard them said it sounded like the band had been together for years. Along with Justin, the best producer in the business and Jeb's new prayer partner, the guys challenged Jeb to reach higher, dig deeper, and go far beyond anything he had ever accomplished musically.

He couldn't wait to share all of that with Laney. He thought about her constantly and prayed for her just as often, but he hadn't called her since that difficult day in Los Angeles.

He'd sent her a Christmas gift with a note, and that was the only contact he'd dared. He didn't have time to go home right now, and he wanted to be holding
her
and not a telephone when he told her about the amazing things God had been doing in his life.

Because after she laughed and cried and kissed him, he meant to ask for her hand in marriage.

Soon, he promised himself. Not yet, but very soon.

For more than two weeks after closing the tearoom, Laney had worried about the Graces adjusting to the loss of the job they had so much enjoyed. She'd called them at least once a day, just to say hello and to ask if they needed anything. In the middle of the third week, they had delivered the firm but loving message that she should stop worrying about them and get on with her own life. They had gently explained that while they had enjoyed the work, they'd taken the job only to get dear Hannah started, and then they'd stayed on to support Laney. It had been fun, but now they wanted to turn their energies in other directions.

After Laney digested that surprising news, she realized that she, too, was eager to move on.

Since closing the tearoom, she'd written a résumé and combed the newspaper employment ads for a job. She'd had three interviews, two of which netted job offers that she'd ultimately decided against accepting. The last thing she needed right now was to fling herself into a dead-end job or to take up an unfulfilling career. Now that her bills were paid, she could afford to spend another month or two exploring possibilities and deciding what she truly wanted to do.

She'd signed up for two online classes in journalism. She was reviewing her mother's recipe files and thinking about putting together an afternoon tea cookbook. She'd started an exercise program. She'd joined the women's prayer group at church and was considering a couple of local ministry opportunities. She was spending time with her friends.