Will stood back near the sled, letting Christine say her goodbye.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your coming, Ellene.” Christine hugged her friend, then gave her belly a tender pat. “I can’t wait to meet the new little Farraday. Keep me posted.”
“Godmother?” Ellene asked, giving Christine a questioning look.
“I’d be honored. Give Caitlin a hug, and tell Connor how happy I am.”
“I will,” she said, stepping backward toward Will.
Will helped Ellene into the sled with less assurance than he had when she arrived. Then he hadn’t realized she carried a child in her belly, and he worried about the bumpy ride. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
She grinned up at him from the sled. “I arrived two days ago. I haven’t changed that much.” She gave another wave to Christine. “See you when you get back.”
Christine moved forward. “Are you sure you don’t mind my not riding to the airport? If I hadn’t checked my e-mail this morning, I wouldn’t know about the snafu at my office.”
“No problem. I’ll be boarding as soon as I arrive. Love you.”
“Love you back.” Christine waved.
Will revved the engine, rolling forward a minute before making sure Ellene was settled and comfortable.
“I’m ready,” she said. “Anytime.”
Will sent a wave to Christine and glided toward the end of the driveway, then headed onto the road.
The day was the warmest it had been since Ellene had arrived. They’d spent Saturday at Will’s studio while Ellene raved about his work and agreed with Christine about the Internet sales. He’d given it thought but still hadn’t felt comfortable with the idea. As a businessman, he knew expanding sales had value, but his inexperience with the Internet set him back.
Ellene clung to him tightly, the way Christine had when she first started riding. Now Christine’s hold had lessened, not from foolishness but with confidence. He loved the feel of Christine behind him on the sled.
Trying to talk seemed pointless, but he checked on Ellene once in a while to make sure she felt secure, and in minutes, they’d arrived at the airport.
He helped her from the sled while his mind clung to Christine and her need to call the office. He wondered if they were putting pressure on her to return, and he feared what she would do.
“I enjoyed meeting you so much, Will,” Ellene said as he carried her bag to the terminal.
“Same here.” But he wanted to know so much more. He opened the door, and they stepped inside the terminal.
Ellene turned to face him. “Be patient with Christine. She’s finding her way.”
He knew he’d frowned at her comment, because the expression on her face changed. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
Ellene smiled. “You think a lot of her, I’ve deducted.”
“Yes. Very much.”
“She cares very much about you, but she’s dealing with some old fears and some new ones.” She shook her head and chuckled. “I know I sound cryptic, but trust me. She’s looking to the Lord for answers, and that can’t be bad.”
Will smiled back. “That’s good news. We all have problems. I have my own problems.” He saw the question on her face. “I’ve been open with Christine. There are no surprises.”
“Good,” she said, glancing out the window at the runway. “I suppose I’d better get going.”
Ellene extended her hand, and Will grasped it, feeling a sense of peace. “Thanks for your candid comments.”
Ellene held her finger to her lips. “Those were between you and me, okay?”
He nodded and handed her the carry-on bag. “Safe flight,” he called as she headed to the tarmac.
She wiggled her fingers in a wave and exited through the doorway.
Will watched her go, hoping she was right. What had she and Christine talked about and what had been said? He knew the problem had been careers and the island. Now they’d added the age factor.
Age? He couldn’t see that as a factor. Christine was spring to him. She was blossoming flowers and humming bees, the wings of birds and the flutter of butterfly wings. She was a delight, even those first days when her attitude nearly darkened the glow of the real woman.
Will turned and headed back to the sled. New snowflakes twirled on the wind, and he tugged on his gloves while feeling a smile grow on his face. He’d become almost poetic thinking of Christine. With her, his creativity flew. He could only imagine what it might be like to have her in his life always.
Christine clutched the telephone against her ear. “Tell me the truth, Sandy. What’s happening?”
She listened to Sandy’s dire story of Chet’s tactics.
“He wants to replace me on the project or for good?” Christine asked. “He can’t do that.”
Sandy’s voice lowered. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you’ve been a good friend. Chet is really on a rampage. I can’t make sense out of it.”
Christine’s mind swam with possibilities. “Do you think his job is on the line? We’ve done well with the clients, haven’t we? I thought my last meeting on the Dorset project went well. They gave us the contract.”
“I know. I don’t have a clue.”
“If he’s in trouble, then I know he’ll try to blame us. Watch out for yourself, Sandy. Chet comes across like cream, but underneath, he’s cottage cheese.”
Sandy chuckled. “You don’t like cottage cheese, do you?”
“I hate it, but it’s an analogy. He’s not as smooth as he tries to make himself out to be.”
“I got it,” Sandy said.
“Just watch it, and keep me posted if you learn anything.”
“I will,” she said, but Christine heard a tone in her voice.
“I know I’m going to take off more time. I talked to my mom this morning. She’s making progress, but she can’t be any help to my grandmother while she’s taking care of her own problems.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through all of this.”
“Thanks. I’m okay with it.”
“That’s good. I’m beginning to think you’re right, Christine.” She lowered her voice again. “Chet’s gone to a corporate meeting in Chicago. I wonder if they’ve caught up with him. Did you know they’re requiring the execs to turn in a monthly strategic-planning report on their teams? That’s not just what we’re doing but what he’s doing.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, we’ve been hearing the buzz for a couple of weeks.”
Christine massaged the back of her neck. “I doubt if Chet can cover himself with corporate.” She paused, her heart sinking. “Unless he can prove he has a few incompetents under him.”
“But you’ve already answered that. We’ve had good campaigns. They’re not stupid at corporate.”
She weighed what Sandy had said. “Chet’s going to have to cover himself some other way.”
“So we all need to keep our eyes open. I’m glad you called, Christine.”
“When does Chet get back into the office?”
“Wednesday afternoon, he said.”
“I’ll call him then. We both know he’s up to something. I can’t believe I fell for that man.”
Silence hung over the line.
Christine’s arms tingled. “Sandy?”
“You weren’t the only one.” Sandy’s lengthy sigh rattled over the phone.
“No. Not you.” Sadness flooded her.
“Afraid so.”
Christine finished the conversation and hung up, feeling mortified that she’d ever thought Chet had been a man worth moping over. And poor Sandy. He’d used her, too. Maybe he was running out of women who were willing to sell their ideas for his attention. A chill shivered down her back at the memories.
For a fleeting moment, Christine didn’t care what happened. Her grandmother needed her for a while longer, and she wasn’t budging until after Christmas.
She looked toward heaven asking for help. As prickles swept down her spine, a calm spread over her, and she knew the Lord had heard her prayers.
Will lifted his head when he heard a knock on the shop door. He laid down the copper foil and headed toward the sound. Christine stood at the window waving, and his heart squeezed, seeing her there with her nose pressed against the door’s stained glass.
“This is a surprise,” he said as she stepped inside.
She stomped the snow from her boots. “Linda came over with a new jigsaw puzzle and scooted me out of the house. She said she’d help with the therapy today. Grandma knows the routine, she just needs someone to keep an eye on her.”
Will kissed the tip of her cold nose. “You sound like you feel guilty leaving her. You shouldn’t.”
“I know.” She unbuttoned her coat and pulled the scarf from around her neck. “What are you doing?”
“A last-minute Christmas project. Everything else is finished.” Just saying it, tension left his shoulders. “I love the work, but when I’m under a deadline, I feel the pressure.”
“But you don’t show pressure. That’s what’s so wonderful. I do. Chet’s back today, and I have to call him this afternoon.”
“What’ll happen?”
“I don’t know.” He saw the confusion in her eyes before she lowered her head.
He drew her into his arms and nestled her against his chest. The snow from her jacket melted against his knit shirt, but her warmth compensated. “I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?” She tilted her head upward to look at him.
“About your marketing ideas.”
“Really?” Her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“If you were here long enough to get me set up, maybe I could give it a try.” The words seemed to croak from his throat. “I’m nervous, I’ll admit, and I’d start small. Maybe just jewelry and stained-glass boxes.”
“You’re really willing to give that a try?”
“Yes, but I need your help, and I won’t know how to update the site. I’m not a graphic artist.”
She brightened. “Neither am I, exactly, but I know enough about doing a Web site, and—”
“Did you hear what I said?” He gave her a squeeze. “You have to be here to do that, and it will take some time.”
She drew back, suspicion glowing on her face. “Are you doing this to keep me captive?”
“Not really, but that’s a bonus.”
She laughed, then gazed down at his shirt. “I got you all wet.”
“I don’t care.” He drew her back into his arms, his mind flooding with things he wanted to say, but the store wasn’t the place. “Have time for a ride?”
“Ride where?”
“Up the road. Maybe to Arch Rock.”
“It’s snowing.”
“I know, and that makes it all the better.”
She shrugged. “Sure, I’ll go if it won’t take too long.”
“Let me grab my camera.”
He hurried into the studio, slipped into his bib and realized Christine needed warmer clothing, too. He grabbed his camera and tripod, then headed toward her.
“Let’s go,” he said, grasping her hand and leading her outside.
Soft flakes drifted from the sky, and the sun shone as if it had no idea it was winter. Will motioned to his sled. “Let’s take mine,” he said, “unless you prefer to drive yourself.”
“No. I like riding with you.”
She slipped into the seat and scooted back, making room for him. He dropped the tripod into the caboose and tucked the camera beneath his jacket, then started the engine.
“Here we go,” he said, easing away from the curb, then headed down Market Street to the Fort Hill.
The wind whipped in his face, sending snowflakes shooting past like a torn feather pillow in a pillow fight. Christine leaned with him when they rounded the fort and raced up Arch Rock Road. He had an idea what he wanted to do, but his heart knotted in his throat. Now he had hope. If he spoke his mind, his hope could crumble.
At Arch Rock, the rugged bluff spread ahead of him like a fresh white sheet. Not one track blemished the pristine landscape. He hesitated, not wanting to mar the beauty. Instead, he pulled to the side of the road. “Look at that,” he said, motioning to the expanse of white that stretched along the bluff.
He took Christine’s hand and helped her from the sled, brushing the snow from her pants. With her hand in his, they walked along the bluff to Arch Rock, which towered one-hundred-and-fifty-feet into the air from the ground below and framed a scenic view of the Straits. Today the water’s icy ripples glistened in the bright sun.
Will slipped his arm around Christine’s shoulder. “What do you think of the view?”
“Wow! I’ve seen this in the summer, but there are no words to describe this.”
He gave her a moment to enjoy the view, then turned her to face him. “There are no words to describe you, either.”
Christine blinked, then smiled. “Thank you. I could say the same about you.”
Will was captured by her gaze. Their eyes lingered, searching each other’s faces as if time had stood still and the concerns and problems had faded beneath the mounds of crystals winking in the sunlight.
“Let me take your picture framed in the arch,” he said. He didn’t wait for a response, but darted back to the sled and grabbed his camera and tripod.
She argued, but he didn’t listen and took her photograph with the sun glowing in her blond hair and a smile on her face, which brightened his world even more.
“That’s enough,” she said, shaking her head. “What’s the tripod for?”
“For us.” He opened its legs and attached the camera to the top. “Stay there, and I’ll join you.” He focused, set the lens, then the timer before darting to her side.
They stood in an embrace until the beeping stopped and a faint click reached his ears. “Now that didn’t hurt, did it?”
Christine gave him a playful look. “Not at all, but I don’t want to see myself on a calendar next year.”
He wished she could be on every page of next year’s edition.
Will took her hands and wove his fingers through hers. Though covered by gloves, he could feel the heat of her radiating through him. “Standing here with you is like a dream. Since you’ve been here—even when you didn’t like me very much—you’ve captured my imagination, and I saw something inside you that I don’t think you even knew was there.”
She tilted her head as if trying to understand. “I’m sorry, Will. I guess I didn’t like you very much. I was jealous of you, I think.”
He grinned. “Jealous? That doesn’t make sense. You have so much going for you.”
“And you have so much going for you and with so much happiness. My grandmother knew you and loved you, and she barely knew me.”
He saw the sadness in her face. “But she does now, and you’re precious to her.”
“I know, but I’m realizing that I’ve been longing for the day when I would feel truly confident and self-actualized.”
Will reared back. “Now there’s a five-dollar word.”
“You know what I mean—reaching my potential—and I’m not sure that day will ever come the way I’m headed.”
She looked up at him as if asking him to give her the direction, and he knew it only came from the Lord. He shook his head, not knowing what to say.
“I’m praying, Will, and I’m looking for that direction you keep telling me about.”
“Do you have faith that God will open the right door?”
“I do.” She lowered her gaze. “I’m trying, too.”
He heard her intake of breath, and she seemed to rally.
“Yes, I do, Will. You and Grandma can’t be wrong.”
He drew her closer, his laughter vibrating against her. She rested in his arms, looking at him. His gaze lingered on her mouth. He wanted to kiss her yet needed to speak his mind.
“Christine, I brought you here to this special place because this is how I see you—pure and perfect. You stepped into my life such a short time ago, and I feel as if I’ve known you a lifetime.”
He watched her eyes shift, exploring his as if trying to understand.
“I realize in such a short time, you can’t make a life commitment, but, Christine, I want to tell you that I love you. I know it in my soul.”
Her head jerked back as if his declaration had startled her.
“Don’t speak right now,” he said, “but I think I should tell you how much I care about you, and if I had my way, you’d give us the time to get to know each other and to see where it leads. I know I’ve been led to you.”
Tears rimmed her eyes. She closed them and opened them again, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she seemed to cling to him with anticipation. “I’ve dreamed of you saying these things to me. I fought the feelings for so long, but I’ve lost the battle.”
“Christine, I—”
“No. Let me finish. But you’re saying this at the worst time. I have to call Chet, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I’m scared—scared to the depth of my being. My work has been my life, and I don’t know if I can give it up.”
She began to shake in his arms, and he had to lean closer to hear the next sentence.
An exhale rattled from her. “But I don’t know if I can give you up, either.”
“You can’t give up on us, Christine. It’s not you or me. It’s us. Just give us time.”
“I want to,” she said. “I really want to.”
He lowered his lips to hers, her icy mouth warming as his lips moved on hers. He heard her sigh, and his own sigh wove around it. The kiss deepened, and he knew in his heart that Christine could not walk away.
“I love you,” he whispered into her hair.
“I don’t deserve you.”
Her words disappointed him. He’d longed to hear her say those three words that had never meant so much to him as now.
A cold wind lashed against his back, and he lifted his gaze as a cloud hid the sun. “We’d better go.”
She nodded, stepping out from his arms and heading back to the sled.
His own thoughts felt as dark as the suddenly dusky sky. He’d told her the truth, and she’d left him feeling empty.