17

 

Sage counted three rings. He heard the joy for life and pleasure of her business when she answered. “Frivolities. This is Lanae. May I help you?”

“Hey, there. Thanks for stating your name. You and Geneva sound just alike.”

She laughed softly and he pictured her animation and wondered what crazy color she was wearing.

“Thanks again for coming back to the house and letting me unload my family’s grisly past.”

He pictured Lanae in Frivolities, surrounded by flashy merchandise, and blending right in with her own colorful flair. He was captivated by the way she used her unique tastes and gifts for her family and their business.

“I guess you know I’m taking Lezlie and Jax on vacation?”

“I understand it’s something you do.” Her voice lost its exuberance.

“Right. I’m not so excited about my objective for this particular place any more, though.” He wanted to say so many things. Like, because of you, I put Becca’s pictures all away. I love you now, Lanae. I believe we have Becca’s blessing.

After a pause, he went on. “This is a huge favor to ask, and I’m really sorry, but it’s kind of an emergency.”

“You know the answer is yes, if I can. What’s wrong, Sage?”

“The neighbor who usually feeds the horses when I’m gone fell on that ice we had. He can’t come over while tussling with a pair of crutches, attempting to do chores. I just checked with Lorinda, but she’s sick with a virus. Do you think—”

“I’d love to. Just walk me through it.”

“Oh, what a relief. You won’t have to come over until Christmas night. I usually feed and water twice a day, but I can’t expect you to do that with your business and everything.”

“Sage, it’s no problem at all. I’d love to come down and do it. I imagine we’ll have a slump between holidays. Beth can come in to the shop if we need extra help. Or even Kate, if you can imagine that one.”

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a new friend. Well, we’re taking off from Omaha early evening. Let me tell you where everything is.”

All the while they talked his mind was on plans to cancel the realtor appointments in Florida. He was sick at heart over the earlier decision to look for property while there. That was before Lanae had come into his life. Sage wondered at the ache in his chest. He already missed Lanae. Before he was ready, it was time to end the call.

“I guess this is good-bye for now,” he said.

“Better than a note anytime.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll write to you and rub in how much fun I’m having on the white sandy beach, as my uncle used to say.” He wanted to hold her in his arms, reluctant to break their connection.

But he’d save that confession for later. Somehow, Sage managed to disconnect.

And her words came back. Just imagine, Sage, if you had to leave your land and move.

He’d answered that he’d be lost and angry.

 

****

 

Later in the day, he greeted Lezlie and Jaxson. They were both reserved, Jax with a chip on his shoulder.

He’d heard the grumbling before, but he totally lost it when Jaxson said, “I s’pose Mom’ll put me through another five days as structured as a day in preschool.”

“Give her a break, son. She works hard to even earn a vacation for the two of you.”

“Why couldn’t we have a normal Christmas like normal people?”

Because I can’t face normal holidays. He made no verbal answer.

Traffic on I-80 to Omaha was heavy. Most likely, with people working late to wrap things up at the office or doing the traveling themselves. He absent-mindedly watched the signs for Eppley Airfield, noted the Qwest Center and Abbott Drive, thought how much easier to go this way than the interstate. That route drove him nuts having to drive south past the airport in order to arrive at the terminal from the north. He shot a cursory look toward Carter Lake and eventually parked in long-term.

Conversation on the shuttle was excited. The Diamonds were the only riders leaving for the holiday without plans to see family.

Deep down Sage figured he was leaving family behind.

Could Lanae possibly miss him as much as he missed her already?

 

 

****

 

Soak it up, this adventure called life.

 

The sound of gentle rain woke Lanae in the dark, pre-dawn hours of Christmas Eve morning. She was transported and disoriented, believing she and Keith were together. Her senses were alive to her surroundings. She listened for his deep breathing, inhaled the fresh, cold air blowing through the open window. Snuggled into the comforting warmth of another body, it was good to feel so alive.

Lanae stretched one arm around her pillow, pulling it close, and extended the other.

The sheet was cold, the spot next to her empty.

But it was too late. Keith hadn’t stayed. He’d climbed on the skid steer loader and met the Lord.

“Don’t go.” The sound of her voice crashed her into wakefulness.

Then she remembered. Keith was gone. She was in the loft above Frivolities. A unique place not created for her, but for Moselle.

She took advantage of that place between wakefulness and sleep; dimly recalled the previous night and how the air had felt almost balmy. She had left a window cracked at the back of the loft. The air was now crisp, but she held on to the security of married love. She snuggled deeper into the memory foam mattress that squished and cradled her now.

And wondered if she’d ever share a bed with a loving husband again.

Could she remain content staying in town, living in the loft, while her heart yearned to be at the acreage with Sage?

But Sage was gone as well. His absence may only be a vacation for now, but if Lezlie was right, Sage could soon be gone forever.

He planned to move, so who knew how much time they had left together?

Dare I say, “Don’t go” to Sage?

Lanae opened her eyes and made out the shadowed shapes of furniture. She tossed back the warm mauve quilt and the teal sheet in one swoop then padded across the cold wood floor to shut the window.

Back under the covers, she tried to find warmth and comfort.

Her mind circled back to Sage. Was he the present in her life?

But Sage would have to learn to live in the present.

Her thoughts flitted around like a butterfly searching for the best flower to sip on. Lanae’s mind swooped from one dear person, or subject, to another until it landed on secrets.

Secrets.

She’d kept her one-night stand all to herself for years.

Sage had kept Uncle Ted’s identity to himself long enough.

Kate, aka Katherine, had kept her love for Ted secreted in her heart for even longer than Lanae could imagine.

I can do this. I want to look back someday knowing this tumultuous tumbling in the head was all worth it.

What was the weather like in Florida where Sage and his family were vacationing? She pictured herself holding hands with Sage, walking on an endless white sandy shore surrounded by nothing but blue sky and sea. The imagined tropical breeze engulfed her.

She shook it off and reached for her Bible.

 

****

 

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds.—James 1:2

 

Christmas Eve service at Faith Bible Church left Lanae with a hollow feeling rather than the promise of God’s gift.

On the church steps, Geneva said, “You seem far away. Are you feeling all right?”

“Oh, sure. I got all wrapped up in the words of the carols, but as soon as we stepped outside, I wondered if I’ll ever get a chance for a life with Sage. Is our time over?” She made sure Rainn was talking to someone else before she leaned in and said, “I regret not getting the chance to kiss him silly before he left. He couldn’t possibly forget me if I’d branded him.”

The next morning, Christmas Day, during a quiet spell in the kitchen, she said to Geneva, “My mind and heart have been far, far away today.”

“Let me guess, still on an imaginary warm sandy beach with a cowboy?”

Lanae left the family gathering mid-afternoon, giving herself time to do the chores on the acreage, planning to return before full dark set in.

She dallied when she got to the barn. The setup was efficient, down to the stall mucking, thanks to the vet who had once lived there. Complete with bins, cubbyhole-type cupboards and tins to keep out rodents, the layout of supplies made quick work of feeding the four horses.

When Lanae smelled molasses sweetening the oats, it took her right back to her former life. Did Sage mix it in to treat his horses while he was gone?

Lanae’s elbow caught the edge of a tattered spiral notebook and knocked it to the concrete floor. The skewed top and bottom wires reminded her of the Torn Notebook sculpture on University Campus in Lincoln. This deep blue cover was stained with who knew what. Curiosity had always gotten the best of her. She couldn’t resist. She opened the cover...just a peek. She’d only glance at a few pages.

Most of the notes related to horses. Lanae ran a finger over the cursive writing, sometimes in blue ink, sometimes in black. The words she read, written in what she assumed to be Sage’s script, could be applied to people as well.

It’s all in the body language.

Horses are a flight animal. Humans are fight animals.

Horses have personalities: friend, loyal, trustworthy, hard-working, dedicated; fearful, lazy, skittish, moody, cantankerous, ornery.

Use your faculties when you work: awareness, compassion, forgiveness, confidence.

Lanae pictured Sage in the saddle and the lay of the acreage. Many horse trainers use a round pen with portable gates. Sage preferred the open space and followed God’s corral—creek or contours of the land.

The same patience he used while he rode showed in the precise handwriting.

“Talk” to the horse with your legs.

“Feel” the horse’s energy—back off with the pressure of calf, hand, or leg if there’s resistance.

Reward the horse when he “listens.”

Sage’s voice echoed through the written words.

I need to listen when the horse “speaks.”

The horse moves into pressure, not away from it, and a horse learns with its body. OBSERVE.

Use the hackamore—Lanae pictured a rawhide noseband without a bit—on Freckles.

She thumbed through the pages, wondering if Sage referred to them when he worked with the horses’ owners or with Jaxson.

She gasped when she saw her name, any intention of controlling her curiosity flew right out the window.

This entry wasn’t written evenly on a fine blue line, but scrawled on the page diagonally.

Lanae’s lips taste like sweet grass to a thirsty soul.

And lower on the same page he had written, with what looked like a trembling hand, I don’t remember what Becca tastes like. And I didn’t know I missed being close to a lovely woman.

The words kicked Lanae in the heart.

Back to reading, she snorted.

That woman poked her nose where it didn’t belong, being so tenacious about the letters. I thought I was done looking back. But isn’t that what I did? Peeked at the past, every time I studied Becca’s picture?

Lanae turned the notebook to the open page that had first caught her eye, setting it in place so as to look undisturbed, and left the barn.

He wasn’t immune to her after all.

She shivered. Winter’s chill seeped through her coat.

Sage had asked that she also go through the house each evening to turn off burning lights and turn on different lights. The key was inside the garage, right where he said it would be. She left her boots at the door and stepped inside. She attended to the lights, turning on the light that shone in the main living area and then she yelped.

Becca’s picture wasn’t on the mantle.

She flew down the stairs and through the basement rooms, taking care to hit alternate lights as she hurried.

She braved the master bedroom next. Inside the door, she held her breath, turned on the light. Eyes fixed on the stand next to the bed, she expected to see Becca’s image, set off by a fancy frame. She didn’t see any photos of Becca.

There was nothing on the night stand but a lamp, a clock, and a Bible.

A Bible?

Lanae couldn’t resist a peek inside the front of the worn burgundy leather cover, and read: “We read to know we’re not alone.” [C.S. Lewis in Shadowlands]

She sank onto the edge of the bed.

Thank you, Lezlie. I assume this was Becca’s Bible.

Well, Lord, no matter what lies ahead for he and I, Sage knows he’s not alone as long as he has Your Word.

 

****

 

Christmas night

 

My Dearest Sage,

 

I miss you. I don’t know if you miss me, yet, but my soul is reaching out to yours. I know without a doubt you should be here by my side.

You drew me to yourself the moment I looked into your eyes.

Then while reading Kate’s letters to your Uncle Ted, I was so emotionally affected. At the time, I felt her yearnings, and I longed to be with a man again. Passion stirred anew.

At this time in my life I’ve never been more certain of anything, even Frivolities, up to this point. God wants me to love you.

He blessed us both with young love, through your Becca and my Keith.

He carried us through our losses.

He’s blessing us now with each other.

I love you, Sage.

I want to spend the rest of my days with you.

How could you possibly love me? I’ve wondered. I’m often too outspoken for my own good. I’m opinionated and scatterbrained. I’m snoopy because I’m interested in other people.

I used to wonder why God saved me from terminal illness. Now I believe it was ordained for me to spend the rest of my life with you. But you won’t be free to love me the way I need, until you make things right with our Lord.

Have you let Becca go? God holds her safe, and that should be a comfort.

And if we aren’t meant to be, I wish you enough of whatever God offers you in life–especially, enough peace to continue on to the end—so you can find contentment, as I finally have.

 

Now I’ll sign off the same way Katherine did, with as manyXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX’s as I can make my fingers X.

 

Loving you forever,

Lanae

 

P.S. I noticed Becca’s pictures are gone. My curiosity will wait until your return.

 

Lanae mentally toured the ranch house, planning on where she’d place the letter. She decided to set it on top of Sage’s mail stack so he’d see it first thing when he walked into the kitchen after his trip.