Until I Found You (16 page)

Old age came at a cost. The loss of her independence topped the list of things Leona missed, but privacy was a close second. As much as she wanted to finish the journal,
she hadn’t been able to write in it for several days. When Kate was at the office, Dody came to stay with her. Leona couldn’t concentrate with someone else in the living room, and by the end of the day she was too tired to tell her story.

But tonight was perfect. Kate was safe with Nick, and though Leona refused to be a meddlesome old woman, she prayed every day that Kate would know the love of God and a husband, and that she’d have as many children as she wanted.

Leona knew full well God answered prayers in His own way. Sometimes the answers were painful, but sometimes the answers were yes—and not just yes but
yes
! Having waited so long for a child of her own, Leona had experienced both extremes. She knew how it felt to writhe in agony with the question
why
raw on her lips, but she had also experienced the bliss of unexpected mercy.

Tonight the in-between years were on her mind, the ones that started with Peter’s birth, when condors still lived in the wild. With that thought in mind, she began to write.

Dear Kate,

I promised you I’d call Dody if you couldn’t make it home, and I did. She understood completely when I told her I wanted a night to myself. She’s my age, so she knows what it’s like to lose your life a slice at a time. First the body becomes defiant, then the mind slows down. Young people have no idea how much effort it takes to get old.

Doctor visits.

Pills twice a day.

Planning a trip to the bathroom so I don’t rush and risk a fall.

My body requires almost as much attention as an infant’s. I don’t enjoy feeling like a baby, but I loved
being a mother. When Peter Alexander Darby came into the world on July 24, 1967, Alex and I counted his toes and marveled at his tiny fingers. We rejoiced over our son, but then the fear started. If he coughed, I raced him to the pediatrician. A bout of colic sent us to the emergency room. I slept in the nursery for six months because I was afraid Peter would stop breathing. SIDS didn’t have a name then, but I knew babies died suddenly and without reason.

I worried constantly about him from the moment he was born, a natural reaction considering how long we waited and the likelihood he’d be our only child. In one breath I praised God for His kindness; in the next I feared He’d take my son away. My faith was ambivalent, to say the least. Yet once again God spoke to me through the condors.

When your father was born, the species was teetering on extinction. Environmental issues emerged in the forefront of the news, particularly DDT and how it caused eggshells to become so thin they cracked. You know the story, Kate. Over the next twenty years, your grandfather photographed every detail of the effort to save the species: the formation of a recovery team, how eggs were retrieved from the wild and incubated, the fight for genetic diversity.

The battle to preserve the species hit one snag after another until 1987, when the last condor in the wild was captured and taken to the zoo. He was Adult Condor Number 9. He made the news because he was the last, but it was AC Number 8, a female taken captive a few months earlier, that touched my heart. I knew biologists had taken eggs from her nest in the early efforts to save the species, and I wondered what she thought when that
happened. She didn’t understand human intervention any better than I understood God.

That point was driven home on February 1, 1994 when your father died in that awful wreck. What the Lord gave, He took away and I didn’t understand at all.

I coped as well as I could, mostly for you. Your mother seemed to dissolve in front of my eyes. She was never the same—but you know that. Even at the tender age of seven, you took better care of her than she did of you.

Oh, Kate! Life can be so unfair. Not only did you lose your father, but that day you lost your childhood. In that haze of grief and despair, my faith was at its lowest ebb since that day in San Miguel Canyon some thirty years earlier.

The story doesn’t end here, but it’s late and I’m tired. Next time I’ll tell you about that trip to the San Diego Zoo and a condor named Aqiwo. Do you remember that day? I’ll never forget it, and I have a hunch you remember it, too.

With her heart suddenly heavy, Leona bowed her head and prayed for her granddaughter. She didn’t know why that urge came on so strong, but it was every bit as real as the candles on the table. A long time passed before she felt calm again. At peace at last, she closed the journal, went to bed, and dreamed of Alex.

T
wo weeks after the snowstorm,
Nick and Kate were working late at the Clarion office, soloing on their first deadline without Maggie, who was looking at houses in Phoenix. He was seated at a drafting-style table and proofing the holiday insert. He thought Kate had done a bang-up job on it, especially the Angel Tree story. The full-page ad for the fund-raiser displayed a Christmas tree with ornaments listing toys, clothing sizes, and household items to replace what Colton and his family had lost. On the first night of the Christmas Faire, Meadows residents would bring gifts for the family to the Clarion.

Seated across from him, Kate was proofing the news sections. They had until midnight to send the file to the printer in Bakersfield, and the paper seemed to be in good shape until Kate startled him with a mock scream. Grabbing two fistfuls of her hair, she did a face plant on the proof sheets. “I can’t believe this!”

“What’s wrong?”

She straightened with a groan, then slumped back against the stool. “I forgot the ad for the Craft Pavilion.” The Pavilion
was a new account, fairly large and much needed considering the state of the
Clarion
’s finances.

“Pull the Rotary Club feature,” Nick suggested. “We’ll run it next week.”

“Is there enough space?”

“What do you need? A quarter-page?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s on page twelve,” he reminded her. “Take a look.”

She riffled through the proof sheets, sized up the change, and gave Nick a rueful look. “It’s an easy fix, but how could I forget something so important?”

“Easy.” He capped his red pen. “Maggie’s out of town, and you’re doing double time with Sutton. I’m amazed your socks match.”

“I am, too, but you know what?”

“What?”

A smile broke across her face. “I love this stuff—” she gestured at the counter littered with scraps of notepaper, colored pencils, and a pizza box. “Deadlines are kind of fun. What I don’t love is being split in two.”

Nick thought of the Bible story about Solomon and the two women fighting over a baby. In a very real way, Kate was the baby and Eve Landon and the
Clarion
were fighting for her time. Nick did as much as he could, but he didn’t share Kate’s talent for selling and designing ads. Thanks to her efforts, the holiday supplement was the biggest ever and a boon to the
Clarion
’s bottom line.

“It’s temporary,” he remarked. “Leona’s doing well, and Dody’s thinking of moving in, right?”

“Maybe.”

“So in January you’ll be at Sutton and back in the groove.”

“Will I?”

“Be in the groove? Sure.”

She glanced around the office, a forlorn expression on her face. “I just don’t know anymore. I’m working like crazy on the proposal, but I love the
Clarion
, too. I used to be so certain about the future. Now I don’t know where I belong, or what I believe. It’s all so . . . I can’t put it into words.”

Nick felt a hitch in his own heart. “Are you serious about leaving Sutton?”

“Sometimes. Maybe.” She gave a little laugh. “Probably not.”

He wanted Kate to be happy with her choices, but he also wanted her to be at peace with God, heaven, and everything in between. Since the night of the storm, she seemed wistful and distant. The kiss had rattled him, too, but he had vowed not to repeat it. Now he wondered if the feelings between them had rocked Kate’s world more than he realized. “You have a lot to consider.”

“I do.” She gave him a confused, woeful look. “And right now, we have a deadline to meet.” She moved from the drafting table to a desk with an extra large monitor. “This won’t take long. The ad’s already designed. I just have to make room.”

They worked side by side, trading questions and friendly banter until they were satisfied with both the regular issue of the
Clarion
and the holiday insert. Kate sent the computer file to the printer, let out a “Whoo-hoo!” and gave a little fist pump. “That’s it! Our first solo issue is done.”

“Good job.” Nick offered his hand.

Kate gripped his fingers and held tight, watching him with a look that was more personal than business. Neither of them let go, and just like that, they were back in his living room, trapped by snow and feelings he had to deny because of his pledge and for Kate’s sake. He let her go, jammed his hands in his pockets, and glanced at the clock. “Coyote Joe’s is still open. Are you hungry?”

She gave a little shiver. “I’m starved, but I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“I need to work on the Eve’s Garden stuff. Want to see what I have so far?”

“Sure.”

They went to Kate’s office, where she sat at the computer and Nick looked over her shoulder. While the file loaded, she pointed to the Eve’s Garden ad displayed on the wall. “I’m aiming for something that plays off the ‘Put the You in Beautiful’ slogan and ties in with aging. Flowers and gardens are an obvious theme, but I’m worried that it’s too obvious. I thought if I played with black and white instead of color, it might be more timeless.” She clicked on a black-and-white picture of a young girl holding a white daisy.

“It’s kind of blah,” he said.

“You’re right, but look at this one.” She brought up a black-and-white photograph of an elderly woman with as many wrinkles as an English bulldog. In a wise and wonderful way, she was stunningly beautiful.

“I like that,” he said to Kate.

“Me, too, but I don’t think Eve will.”

“Probably not.” The woman in the photo looked her age.

Kate clicked through some more pictures, then showed him a list of words with the U sound in them—universal, youthful, euphoria. “I’ve got the pieces, but it’s not gelling.”

“How about
unique
?” he suggested.

“I like that a lot.” She added the word to her list, then looked at him from over her shoulder. “You’re good at this.”

“Just with words. You’re the pro when it comes to the complete package.”

She studied him with the same admiring expression she wore the morning after the storm, when he drove her home, blew the snow out of Leona’s driveway, and took her up on
the offer of waffles for breakfast. It had been a cozy time, in spite of the lingering kiss, or maybe because of it.

He straightened his spine and stepped back. “I’ll let you get to work.”

Kate stood with him. “I wish I could say yes to Coyote Joe’s, but I really need to make some progress here.” She studied the poster on the wall, tilting her head like a curious bird. “A year ago I was so proud of that ad and what it says about personal beauty. Now it seems . . . I don’t know. Just not enough.”

Nick didn’t know what to say. He appreciated a beautiful woman as much as any man, but in his opinion, a person’s looks mattered far less than their character. Kate was still studying the poster but didn’t seem to expect an answer. “I’ll lock up,” he said.

A smile played on her lips, then she kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything.” She looked at him as if he could walk on water. He couldn’t, of course. He couldn’t even sell his book. This morning he’d received his ninth rejection, a bitter pill, but one he swallowed with a vow to be patient.
Waiting . . .
it was the story of his life. After giving Kate a brotherly hug, he locked the door behind him and went alone to Coyote Joe’s.

When Kate and Leona arrived at the Clarion for the first night of the Christmas Faire, dusk had already turned the sky royal blue. White lights decorated the trees as high as a cherry picker could reach, and every storefront twinkled and glowed. Decorations ranged from tacky to classic, and Kate loved them all. She especially loved what would happen later. Santa Claus would arrive on a fire engine with its lights flashing and siren blaring.

The Christmas Faire was a long-standing Meadows tradition. Started twenty years ago by the Chamber of Commerce, it lasted a full weekend and had grown from a few businesses putting up decorations to a festival of lights, music, cookies, and homemade crafts. The Christmas Faire was part of Kate’s history, and she loved every bit of it.

With her arm around Leona’s waist, she paused to look up and down the street. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yesh,” Leona said. “All is calm. All is bright.”

“I love Christmas,” Kate declared with a sweep of her arm. “It’s fun and pretty, and it brings out the best in people. Wait until you see the Angel Tree.” Judging by the enthusiasm around town, Colton and his family were going to have a wonderful holiday. Kate had gone all out with an outfit for Mindy, toys for the little kids, and art supplies for Colton. Leona’s gift to the family was a set of pots and pans, and Nick had bought Colton some clothes and a heavy jacket.

Mindy and the kids were now living in a small apartment, trying to save enough money to rent another house. Like Kate, they were caught between old circumstances and new ones. Did she still belong at Sutton? It seemed far away, but so did God. Since praying that prayer, she’d read some of Leona’s Bible. The Old Testament stories scared her, particularly the ones about people whose lives were upended and changed forever, like Noah building an ark and Moses wandering in the desert. Kate feared that kind of trial, but other verses filled her with yearning. She liked one in particular—
Perfect love casts out fear—
because she knew how it felt to be afraid.

She cared deeply for Nick and wanted to share his Christian faith, but was
wanting
to believe enough? She especially wanted to believe at Christmas when the air was full of peace, love, and goodwill. With that thought in mind, she walked with Leona into the Clarion office. The warm air smelled of
apple cider laced with cinnamon and cloves, and the gifts under the Angel Tree were piled even higher than this morning. Later she and Nick would deliver them to the Smith family.

Maggie hurried around the counter for a hug. “Leona! You made it!”

“I shertainly did,” she said proudly. “I haven’t missed a Christmas Faire in twenty years, and I’m not shtarting tonight.”

While Maggie hung up Leona’s coat, Kate watched the parking lot for Nick. They were working together on the Christmas Faire story, so when she saw his truck, she waved good-bye to Maggie and Leona. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Have fun!” Leona called to her.

Beaming a smile, Kate pushed through the door and approached Nick with Merry Christmas poised on her lips. He stole the words with a brief kiss, then hugged her. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

Bundled in coats and hats, they joined the crowd on the street. Several times they stopped to take pictures and chat with locals and tourists alike, sharing the holiday cheer and sipping hot chocolate. Kate’s favorite spot was the Kid’s Corral where Chellie was painting snowflakes and candy canes on the cheeks of children as a fund-raiser for the animal shelter. There was enough snow for a snowman contest, and Nick took pictures of two brothers with a six-foot dinosaur. When they saw Mindy with her two youngest kids, Kate waved hello.

“I wonder where Colton is,” Nick asked, scanning the crowd.

Kate spotted him first. “Over there.”

Nick followed her gaze and they saw Colton on the other
side of the street, his hands shoved in his old coat as he talked awkwardly with a pretty girl in a red jacket and a snow-white cap.

Chuckling softly, Nick looped his arm around Kate’s waist. “Let’s leave him alone.”

“Good idea.” She smiled up at him just as he looked down, both of them touched by that first-crush feeling. Basking in it, they ambled through shops and displays until they reached a church with a living nativity scene. Mary and Joseph looked a lot like Wayne and Becky from the Meadows Market, but Kate didn’t recognize the shepherds or the infant bundled in Mary’s arms. While old Netta Grace played carols on her dulcimer, sheep grazed on the lawn, and a camel from a ranch that supplied animals to Hollywood gave Kate a curious look. Nearby a long-eared donkey chewed some straw.

The tableau didn’t seem quite real . . . but it was. Transfixed, she took in the baby in the manger, the shepherds, Mary and Joseph, the lights in the trees, and the stars in the sky. Conscious of every prickle of cold and twinkle of light, she reached for Nick’s hand. He glanced down and smiled. With their breath mingling in a frosty cloud, they traded a poignant look before returning their attention to the nativity scene.