9

 

I know where I’m going, Lord. And I plan to have as much fun as I can until You take me to be with You.

 

In her favorite recliner for their Monday session, Lanae fumbled with her yarn and crochet hook, and started to count loops. She couldn’t remember the last time she dropped a stitch. “It’s just no use,” she mumbled. “I’m giving up on who wrote the letters. I found no reference, no names for who had owned the bakery years before. There were a couple of old pictures that showed only ‘Platteville Bakery’ painted on the front window.”

“It’s pretty weird, all right, that there isn’t even a family name recorded,” Geneva agreed.

“And it’s just killing me. I want to know who Ted is. Every instinct gnaws at me, says Sage is involved somehow. I mean, how many references, in your whole lifetime, have you ever seen to ‘eyes the color of blue flax?’”

“None,” Geneva said at the same time Lanae answered her own question.

Lanae continued, “Maybe it doesn’t matter who Katherine was. Or Ted. I’ve looked in the telephone directory, entry by entry. Not one Katherine is listed.” Only Kate Rawlins.

“There’s an old picture of Main Street hanging in the library. The bakery is shown, I’m sure. I’ll bet if you asked, they’d take it out of the frame to reveal what’s written on the back,” Geneva suggested.

“They’ll start talking about how the Frivolities lady has lost her marbles.” Lanae surmised.

“You are really serious about this mystery, aren’t you, Aunt Lanae?” Moselle contributed.

“What’s a mystery?” Mia piped up. Rainn’s niece was keeping the ladies company in the loft.

Geneva explained to Mia in terms her future stepdaughter could understand. Geneva and the other adults in Mia’s life found if detailed instructions were given in a methodical manner—and not too many at a time, Mia responded well. Structure helped keep the six-year-old happy and content.

Lanae smiled, recalling the first time Mia got tangled up in Frivolities merchandise. She contemplated the little girl. Could autistic children learn to crochet? Maybe later, when Mia was a couple years older.

Geneva interrupted Lanae’s wandering mind. “Why are you frowning? You were so hot about ads not so long ago, have you considered putting out a lost and found notice?”

Lanae snorted and tuned back in. “Yeah, right. I can see the bold headline: ‘Do you know Ted last-name-unknown?’ And underneath: ‘I have his letters.’”

“Or how about writing a letter to the editor?” Moselle suggested. “Better yet, let me post something on my social media page.”

“Hold on.” Lanae raised a hand, palm out. “Anything we do I’d better run by Sage. We’re probably talking about someone in his family.”

“You’re right. But we can still plan. Maybe make a copy of the undated letter and put it on the counter next to the register? I could use an easel so it’s propped upright.” Geneva offered.

“Or better yet, in the window? I could help Moselle with a display, spot-lighting the vanity. It’s dry by the way,” Lanae said as an aside, “and make something on the order of a collage, framing the letter and placing it front and center.”

“You go, crochet queen. I love that idea!” Moselle leaned down and gave Lanae’s shoulders a jaunty twist.

“Rainn has an antique frame that would be just the right size for the letter,” Geneva added.

“And that big old cracked mirror in the storage room we’ve held onto?” Moselle headed for the kitchenette and tossed over her shoulder, “It’s perfect to frame the whole collage for added dimension.”

A frame within a frame? Lanae could see it.

Those letters are none of your business. Her subconscious brought Sage’s vehement reaction to mind.

“Hey, Lanae, would you read one of the letters again?” Geneva prodded.

Lanae retrieved the missive from her Frivolities apron pocket, straightened the folds with the trembling sense she was in the wrong, and read out loud.

 

My Dearest,

 

So much between us has never been spoken. I ache to be held in your arms.

I feel the wind against my cheek and imagine your approach. I look at my blue flax in the garden and see your eyes. I answer a cardinal’s whistle and wonder what it would be like for you to call me as your soul mate.

I wait and I wait to have an answer. Why have you never responded to my recent letters?

I’ll never know why you have not returned to me.

Were your promises of love and devotion only empty words? To what end?

I remain devoted to the memory of our times together. And you remain in my dreams, waking or sleeping.

 

Lovingly, I wait for you.

 

Forever,

Your Katherine

 

Eyes like blue flax? Sage Diamond eyes. This Ted had to be family to Sage. Those eyes weren’t a garden variety blue.

Memory of our times together.

Memories of my times with Sage, who said the letters were none of my business.

Two itsy kisses. One next to my ear, one on a fingertip. My whole world changed.

Other changes have happened in seconds.

Death.

Life.

Believing and being filled with the Spirit.

I’ve faced death.

I kept on living.

I have the Spirit.

Now, I have Sage.

Did she have Sage? Lanae believed with all her heart the Lord had brought Sage into her life for a reason.

When she pictured Sage, Lanae said, “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Geneva and Moselle questioned.

“Remember, Sage wants me to stay out of their family business. I’d better run this by him before we get more carried away.”

“Uncle Rainn’s here,” Mia announced.

The men arrived all at once, getting acquainted as they shouldered through the door.

Lanae caught the other women’s gazes, thinking Mia should call her uncle “Daddy” one of these days. “No doubt about it, we need some men around Frivolities.”

 

****

 

“Hey, guys, welcome. Sage, you’ve met my sister. Looks like you’ve met Eric and Rainn. My niece, Moselle here, is still on her honeymoon with Eric. And this big girl is Mia.”

How could the warmth of a woman’s voice sound so comfortable, reminding him of holes in his life? Sage tipped the brim of his hat toward Moselle then swept it off his head.

“Moselle, Sage is a horse whisperer.” The sisters said in tandem.

“I doubt I deserve that accolade. Pleased to meet you, all around.”

“Even Lezlie says you have a gift,” Lanae emphasized.

He was in trouble if Lezlie had talked about him with Lanae. Especially if they were in cahoots over the letter business.

“I don’t believe we’re meant to control but to observe and absorb nature. I learn about a horse by watching its ears. I try to see what it’s reacting to, ignore it, and let the horse come to me.”

“Well, I still say, you’re a horse whisperer,” Lanae insisted.

“My name is Mia Harris. What is a horse whisperer?”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mia. I am Sage Diamond. And a horse whisperer is a guy who gets along with horses the way you probably get along with your favorite stuffed animal.”

Before he could ask Mia what that animal was, a tap on his forearm drew his attention from the little girl.

Sage took the small notepad Geneva held against his arm.

“Moselle had the idea you could write your ideas down while you men talk about shopping in a woman’s place like Frivolities. Anything that comes to mind, like what you’d be drawn to, what you’d come in looking for, how we can help. The opposite of what might keep a guy away forever. That kind of thing.”

Lanae spoke as she loaded a round serving tray with a mouthwatering assortment of cheesecakes, plates, and forks. “Tell us what you thought the first time you came through the door. What scares you about shopping for women?”

Sometimes the sight of Lanae wiped out every sense of what was going on around him.

“What scares us?” Eric asked, laughing.

Moselle crossed to the door with a tray holding a coffee carafe surrounded by Frivolities mugs. She waited for Eric to open the slider.

Sage had yet to give Lanae a decent greeting.

Eric smacked Moselle with a tender kiss, and she shooed him away with a hip bump. Sage wondered if Lezlie would ever find that kind of happiness. She’d dedicated many years to Jaxson. Followed by college, and now her nursing career.

Sage joined Rainn and Eric on the deck, where a cast iron chimenea that looked like a modern potbellied stove exuded welcoming heat. “Not quite like my fireplace, but I’ll take it.”

Silence wrapped around the men while they moaned over and devoured chocolate and cherry and some other kind of berry cheesecake slices. The women were clearly observed through the glass doors, deep in their own chatter. Lanae, in a bright emerald sweater and skinny jeans, glanced over her shoulder. He dropped his eyes to focus on the plate in his hand.

Sage eventually set his plate down and rubbed his stomach. He bypassed a comfortable oak rocker to rest against one of the porch columns. “So, Eric, Lanae said you built the deck?”

“Sure did. But Rainn helped.”

“I’m impressed.”

“I’m convinced digging those postholes was one of the ways I caught Geneva’s eye.” Rainn shot Sage a cheeky grin, followed by wiggling eyebrows. “Then again, maybe it’s my looks.”

They laughed, fell into another comfortable silence, and singled out their women through the glass patio doors.

“It’s enterprising of them, for sure. Small business is sometimes a tough go in Nebraska, no matter what the economy is doing.” Eric helped himself to an air-pot puff of steaming hot cider.

Lanae turned to catch them spying and shot him a smile that Sage felt in his stomach. He followed every step as she came to slide open the door. “So which one of you guys wants to pose for a plywood mannequin? We want to have a summer beanbag toss out back, and a little sandbox for kids.”

“Mia would love that.” Rainn lifted his mug in the air.

“It was her idea,” Geneva added, joining her sister.

“Well, we don’t want her tossing things at her dad’s head, so Rainn’s out,” Moselle put in.

“Count me out, too,” Eric added. “It isn’t a good idea for kids to throw things at fireman. We save people from burning buildings.”

They all looked at Sage.

“Gotta be a cowboy.” Lanae shot him a saucy wink.

“Suppose I could. I’ve never been a model before. But wouldn’t kisses be better than throwing things?” He made the last comment with his gaze locked on Lanae.

She blew him a kiss and closed the door.

If Lanae knew about Ted Tippin, she’d discover the news of Ted’s father. And Sage wanted to keep everything about his Grandfather Earl, good and buried.

Rainn set his coffee mug on the serving tray, peered through the door, and appeared mesmerized as he watched Geneva. “Sometimes I can’t get over the Lord bringing that woman into my life. And Mia into both our lives. I can hardly wait sometimes to get settled down together.”

“Seems Rainn, my buddy here, kept it all to himself that he had an eye on Geneva as someone other than Moselle’s mom.” Eric said.

Sage wondered what it would be like to have a friend as close as Eric and Rainn appeared to be. Maybe it was time he spent time with men instead of horses.

Rainn tore his gaze away from the scene inside the loft. “I guess we’re supposed to be talking shop here, but—”

“Do the ladies have a website? My grandson’s a tech whiz,” Sage offered.

“They do, thanks,” Eric answered.

Rainn cleared his throat. “I’m guessing Moselle will cover the list and its presentation with her usual pomp and creative style. Back to my subject. Sage, man, this Frivolities guy thing can wait. Since I’m all in love here, and Eric and I are of an age, I wanna know. Is there something about Lanae that gets to you? You know, makes her irresistible? I guess what I’m getting at, is it the same for a guy your age? Just wondering if I’ll always feel this way about my woman.”

Sage dropped the foot he’d propped against the square post. Standing tall, he leveled a dumbfounded stare at Rainn. They’d met a few minutes ago, and he sure wasn’t used to sharing such private thoughts. He’d incorrectly stereotyped artists as quiet and unassuming.

Rainn stepped close to Sage to give him an elbow nudge and cocked a single brow. “When I was getting to know Geneva, and she was playing hard to get, Eric asked me what I dwelled on when I thought about her. She was about to become his mother-in-law, so I didn’t say that she revs my motor. I told him it’s her glasses. Every time she wears them I want to take them off.”

Sage didn’t laugh with them. He directed his gaze to Eric.

“OK. I’ll bite.” Eric ran his fingers down the grooves at the corners of his mouth. “Moselle’s upper lip. She has this little mole above her lip. It just begs to be kissed. Your turn.” Eric raised his mug in Sage’s direction.

“Aren’t we supposed to be helping the women with marketing ideas?”

Eric and Rainn didn’t answer. Rather, they stared, and waited for Sage to respond.

“Looks like I’m outnumbered.” Sage dry-spitted all ten of his fingers and mimed spiking his short hair. “Lanae’s hair. I don’t know why, but it just plain gets to me. I saw a picture of an older model on a tabloid while checking out at the grocery store not too long ago. Thought the woman had moxie. Then when I met Lanae, well, she’s got the spunk to go along with the short, short hair...”

The three men sobered.

“OK, admit it. You think she’s worth investigating.” Rainn still searched Sage’s face.

“In other words, age doesn’t have a thing to do with man-woman connection,” Eric concluded.

Sage had no time to agree or disagree with Eric’s statement before Lanae swished through the door singing something about being out there then broke off. “Ideas, guys?”

She gave a curvy hip swing and changed her tune.

As though they had rehearsed it, each woman paraded after Lanae and went to her man—even Mia, who stood in front of Geneva while they both leaned back against Rainn.

Did Sage want to be Lanae’s man? He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Rainn wrapped his arms around Geneva, settling a hand on Mia’s shoulder. Eric folded his hands at the base of Moselle’s ribcage.

Sage considered himself to be a nonconformist, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to have his own arms full of intriguing femininity. All soft and curvy, Lanae smelled like cinnamon and chocolate. He turned her around so she could lean against him, and rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. He jerked back when Geneva opened up the conversation, eyes locked on her husband-to-be. “How do you like the deck, Sage? Rainn dug the holes for the posts.”

Sage figured the heat from the stove was mild compared to the secret blast Geneva and Rainn sent one another with their eye contact.

“Hubba, hubba,” Lanae added.

Sage envied the loving pleasure in her voice and wondered if she’d ever use that tone for him.

Lanae cleared her throat and angled her head to look up at him. “Back to ideas.”

He glanced at the other couples. Moselle covered Eric’s hands, rubbing a finger over his wedding band. Rainn and Geneva shared another special look, raising the outdoor temperature another five degrees.

Sage cleared his throat when his gaze met Lanae’s. He settled his hands at her sides, feeling her woman shape.

“Before we hear suggestions for shopping, men, we have an idea. But I need your permission—”

More intrigued than ever, Sage held onto the connection with Lanae by a press of his hands.

“One of the letters I found isn’t addressed to Ted like the others. Could we put it on display downstairs?”

As he considered, his gaze intent on her hazel eyes, he figured it couldn’t hurt. It would give her something to do besides search for Ted Tippin. If he had to bend her over backward and kiss her until her brain melted, he’d do it to keep her from finding out the mysterious Ted was his uncle.

He’d be seeing Ms. Petersen on a regular basis. What could it hurt? And he’d enjoy every smack.

He nodded, giving assent to her question.

 

****

 

Life is about change. And being rearranged.

 

As much as Lanae wanted to incorporate a gentlemen’s approach to Frivolities, they hadn’t come up with much except a website link Moselle had started.

All evening, Lanae had the urge to shoo everyone away from the loft. She needed affirmation the women had selected the right letter to frame for display. Then again, they didn’t matter in the decision. Sage had granted permission to use the undated one.

It was time to read all the letters in one sitting.

Lanae curled up with her favorite teal and mauve afghan, hot chocolate next to her chair, and opened each letter in turn.

An hour and a half later, she wiped away silent tears. The perfect letter to frame was the first one she’d read tonight, the letter with no date.

She read the undated words out loud once more.

Oh, how she felt for Katherine. What in the world had happened in the lives of these lovers?

Tears turned into a torrent.

She wept loud animal noises, wrapped her arms around her knees, and rocked.

Lanae knew Katherine’s longing intrinsically. She had mourned Keith to the very core of her being. For some reason, the holes felt new.

Loneliness widened a gap in Lanae’s heart.

Oh, Lord, is Sage meant to fill these holes? You’ve given me a new lease on life. Forgive my discontent, my longing for something more. A life in the country is the desire of my heart. Which You know, because You know my heart.