The gardens at Hidden Hill were illuminated with thousands of tiny white lights that stretched out like a woman’s lace shawl across the trees and bushes. A huge white tent filled with chairs and tables and buffets of food had been set up just beyond the now clean and sparkling swimming pool. The pool itself was filled with fragrant water lilies and floating candles that made the water look alive as they moved with the swirling current.
Up on the first-floor terrace, an orchestra played, the cello, flutes, harps, and violins sending the soft, haunting music out over the trees and flowers like butterflies lifting in delicate sound.
Tara stood near the pool, her eyes scanning the impressive crowd of both Sunset Island’s and Savannah’s finest citizens. She was looking for their absent host, Stone Dempsey. He had yet to make an appearance at his own party.
“Seen him yet?” Rock asked from her side, then handed her a crystal goblet of sparkling mineral water with a twist of lime.
“No,” Tara said, not even bothering to deny it. “I wish I knew what’s going on inside his head.”
Rock chuckled. “Get in line. We’ve all been wanting to know that for a very long time.”
She turned to stare over at Rock. He looked distinguished in his tuxedo. He was handsome in a different way than Stone. Rock’s handsomeness was rugged and straightforward, whereas Stone’s was mysterious and distant. Hidden away. “But you and Stone—you’ve made your peace, right?” she asked, worry causing her to whisper the question.
“Yes, I think we finally have,” Rock said. “And I have you and Ana to thank for that. Ana made me see that I needed to reach out to my brother, and you made me see that I’d been judging him too harshly.”
Tara nodded, pulled her wrap closer around her shoulders. “I truly think he’s been out there all alone for so long that he expects to be judged. He almost welcomes it as a challenge, maybe to keep his bitterness brewing.”
Rock chuckled again. “You Hanson women never cease to amaze me. You are both so wise.”
“Not wise,” Tara said, shaking her head. “We’ve just learned our lessons the hard way.”
“Well, you two had some issues to sort through yourselves,” Rock reminded her. “And now you’re closer than ever.”
Tara smiled, took a sip of the tingling water. It soothed her dry throat. “Yes, and I have you to thank for that. You encouraged me to turn back to God, to turn it all over to Him. It seems to be working.”
Rock raised his own glass. “And it seems we have a mutual admiration society going here.”
Tara agreed, then toasted him in return. “Now, if we could just get your brother on track, we’d really have something to celebrate.”
Rock took a drink, then nodded. “Give him time, Tara. It took him many years to build up that wall. It might take a while for us to tear it down. Remember that saying by Edwin Markham, something about ‘he drew a circle that shut me out…but love and I had the wit to win. We drew a circle that took him in’?”
Tara bobbed her head, glanced out at the sea. “I’ve heard it before, yes.”
“I think we need to do that with Stone,” Rock said. “I think he’s shut himself down again because he’s come close to finding everything that he’s been missing in life.”
“And he’s afraid?” Tara asked. “You think he’s walking away from me before it’s too late?”
Rock nodded in silence. “Stone’s never opened his heart to anyone. Then you came along and you were the one. That’s got to be scaring him to death.”
“I know the feeling.” Tara looked down at the shimmering pool. “Me, I tried to give my heart to my husband and my children, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t know how to love enough, Rock. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know that feeling again, or what a complete love is really like.”
Rock pointed toward the starlight sky. “Trust in Him, Tara. That’s all I can tell you. That’s what complete love is—it’s more than just physical or more than just a passing infatuation. It takes commitment, work, and most of all, it takes putting God into the relationship.”
“Thanks,” Tara said. “And speaking of a complete love, go and dance with your wife.”
“Good idea,” Rock replied with a silly grin.
Tara stood there looking around at the crowd, her gaze moving over the sequined evening gowns and expensive tuxedoes, her ears hearing the clutter of mindless chatter, while her heart was clamoring to run to Stone, find him, tell him she wanted to see inside his battered heart.
What should I do, Lord? she silently asked the heavens. I made such a mess of things with Chad. We didn’t love each other enough to fight for what we needed to save our marriage. I didn’t nurture him enough to save him. And now he’s gone and my daughters are suffering. I’m suffering, God. I don’t want to make the same mistake with Stone. But he needs me. He needs someone to show him what real love means, the way You showed us with Your son. Lord, do I dare tell Stone what’s in my heart?
A noise behind her caused her to whirl around, hopeful. It wasn’t Stone. “Laurel?” Tara squinted as her daughter sprinted down the steps. “What are you doing here, honey?”
“I snuck out,” Laurel replied. Then she came rushing toward Tara. “Mom, don’t be mad, please. Josiah said I needed to talk to you. But I couldn’t wait until you got home.”
Fear gripping her heart, Tara said, “What’s wrong, Laurel?”
Laurel stood in her jeans and zippered pink fleece jacket, her golden hair shimmering on her shoulders. “Mom, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what, sweetie?”
“For being so mean to you. Josiah told me everything, about how my daddy came out to the chapel, about how Daddy wanted to love us, but he didn’t know how to show it. Josiah said the fighting wasn’t anyone’s fault. He said Daddy was a very sick man, and a very confused man, but he told me Daddy found God before he died.”
“Oh, baby,” Tara said, pulling Laurel onto a long stone bench and then into her arms. “Baby, you didn’t have to come all the way over here to tell me that.”
“But I needed you to know, I understand now,” Laurel said. “Stone and me, we had a long talk here the other night. He told me how he’d blamed his mother for a lot of things and how he regretted being so mad all the time. He said that if God gives us another chance to find love, we should listen to our hearts and take that chance. He wanted me to understand that you needed a second chance.”
“Stone told you that?”
Laurel nodded, wiped at her eyes. “But he told me he wouldn’t cause me any more pain, either. He told me he’d leave you alone until I was ready to understand and accept things between you two.” She pushed at her hair, then wiped at her eyes. “I think I’m ready now, Mom. Josiah read to me from the Bible, about Cain and Abel, the prodigal son, about Naomi and Ruth, all these stories of forgiveness and love. I’ve been so mean, Mom. I didn’t want Stone to take my Daddy’s place. But Josiah said Stone isn’t supposed to do that. He said Stone needs us, just as much as we need him. Josiah said God brought all of us together for a reason. And after talking to Stone and really seeing how he feels, I think Josiah is right. So, I’m sorry. You’ve tried so many times to explain things to me, but I’ve been so angry and mean. I’m really sorry, Mom.”
“Oh, Laurel.” Tara pulled her daughter close, rocking her gently. “I love you so much, baby. I promise I’m going to make this up to you, somehow. And if that means giving up Stone—”
Laurel pulled back, sniffing away the last of her tears. “No, you have to tell Stone, Mom. You have to tell him that I’m okay now—that I understand. He won’t come back to us unless he hears it from you—he told me that.”
Tara nodded, seeing why Stone had pulled away over the last week. He’d done it for Laurel, to show her daughter that he cared enough to walk away. And he’d probably decided he couldn’t bear the pain of rejection if Tara or Laurel never accepted him. The same pain he’d suffered since childhood, that numbing pain that had caused him to turn away from love and his family.
How could she not accept a man who’d do that for her child? The respect and trust Stone had tried so hard to gain was evident now. And now, Tara knew without a doubt that she loved him.
God had answered her prayer.
Tara sat there on the secluded stone bench near the terrace of Hidden Hill, and talked to her daughter for a very long time. And she explained everything to Laurel, from the beginning. Then she sent her daughter back to the cottage, trusting that Laurel would find her way home. Her oldest daughter had matured into a caring young woman.
After Laurel left, Tara stood listening to the music, to the wind, to the sea. She heard all the sounds of God’s world here on this island, but she waited to hear the sound of Stone’s footsteps coming toward her.
She waited, but he didn’t come. Which meant she’d just have to go and find him.
He couldn’t bring himself to go out there and find her.
Stone stood in the middle of the solarium, looking at the rows and rows of orchids he’d grown himself. He wanted to give one particularly beautiful lady’s slipper to Tara, but fear gripped him like fish netting and he felt trapped in the darkness of his own doubts. Trapped here in the solarium, behind glass and flowers.
While the band played on.
“What are you doing?”
Stone whirled to see Eloise standing in the arched doorway. “How did you find me?” he asked in answer to her question.
“I wandered around until I did,” his mother replied. “You have guests, son.”
“Yes, I know. And I have a well-paid staff to see to all their needs.”
“Don’t want to get too personal with your donors and patrons?”
“The money is for the lighthouse, Mother, not me.”
“But you need to show your gratitude. Your benefit gala is a rousing success.”
“Then everyone should be pleased.”
Eloise walked further into the room, her burgundy wrinkled silk gown rustling like fallen leaves. “Stone, I’ll ask again—what are you doing?”
“I’m hiding,” he said, not caring what she thought about his actions. “And I’d like to be alone.”
Then he heard his mother’s gasp, and turned to see what was wrong. He watched as her eyes scanned the orchids.
“Oh, my,” Eloise said, waving a hand. “So many colors, so many varieties. Stone, who brought in these orchids?”
“I did,” he said simply and quietly, while his heart hammered a roar to equal the cresting waves down below the bluff.
“Well, who’s your supplier?”
Stone shook his head, put his hands in the pockets of his tuxedo pants. “I grew these myself, Mother. I take care of them myself. They’re mine.”
Eloise walked closer, the muted light from the hanging art deco chandelier making her face glisten. “You grew these?”
“Yes.” He didn’t feel the need to explain.
But then, his mother, ever full of surprises, gave him the shock and the thrill of his life. “I remember you tried to grow an orchid for me once, for Mother’s Day. You wanted it to bloom so badly.”
“But it never did,” Stone said, his voice catching under the roughness of that memory. He stood silent for a couple of beats, then said, “How did you know about that? Did Rock tell you?”
Eloise turned to him then, her hand touching on his face with the gentleness of an artist touching a work in progress. “No one had to tell me, Stone. I knew it back then. And I remember it now. I was always there, son, listening.”
Stone took in a breath to push away the lump in his throat. “But you never said anything, never responded.”
“No, not in the way you needed me to. I’m responding now, though.” She held her hand to his face, her eyes holding his. “Will you forgive me?”
Stone didn’t push her hand away. It felt so warm there on his skin. “Do you know, Mother, there are certain orchids that can actually survive growing on rock? They’re called lithophytes.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of them. Amazing that they just need rain and humidity to make them thrive.”
“They stick to the rocks, but they can’t gain sustenance unless it rains, and yet they stay attached anyway, waiting for the water to come.”
“Waiting for the rain to nurture them,” Eloise replied. Then she dropped her hand and reached out her arms to her son. “I’m here now, Stone. And I’m so very glad you stayed attached. Because I have never let go.”
Stone hugged his mother close, savoring the feel of being in the arms of another human being. Then he stood back and took a long breath. “I’m in love, Mother.”
“I know, son.”
“What should I do?”
“You should go find her and tell her.”
“What if—”
Eloise quieted him with a finger to his lips. “What if you don’t? We all know there are no promises and no guarantees in life, except that of God to man.”
“I guess God is a lot like my lithophytes.”
Eloise smiled. “He sticks to us, even when we don’t want to allow His love to break through.”
“I remembered something the other night,” he told her. “My father was a true Christian. He was a fisher of men.”
Eloise inhaled a sharp breath, her eyes glistening. “Yes, he was.”
Stone ran a hand through his long bangs. “All these years, I’ve been mourning how he died, when I should have been honoring how he lived.”
“If you can do that, darling, you will indeed be your father’s son.”
They stood silent for a few minutes, the sounds of the distant music drifting up to them, the soft ceaseless waves of the sea comforting them.
“Okay,” Stone said. “I’ve wasted enough time.”
Eloise kissed him on the cheek. “Good then. Oh, and Stone, The Resurrection looks perfect down on the rocks. Your father would be so proud.”
“That’s why I put it there,” he said. “Pick yourself out an orchid, Mom. And…Happy Mother’s Day.”
Then he turned and went in search of Tara.
“Are you sure?” Ana asked Tara later.
Ana and Rock were ready to go home, but Tara wanted to stay. She had to talk to Stone.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her hand on her sister’s arm. “I can call a cab or have that fancy limo drop me off.”
“Okay, then,” Ana said, worry evident in the expression on her face. “Tell Stone we had a lovely time. Sorry we missed him.”
“I will.” Tara looked around the grounds. The orchestra was still playing, but most of the guests had gone home. It was late, but the question on everyone’s mind had been the same. Where was Stone Dempsey?
“Greta Epperson is even giving up,” Rock commented as the blond, bespectacled society page reporter stomped past them with a haughty look, her notebook still in hand just in case the mysterious Mr. Dempsey decided to put in an appearance.
“Well, thank goodness for that,” Tara replied. “The woman hounded me all night. I told her about our plans out at Hidden Haven, but Greta only wanted to know what personal plans I had in store with Stone. I couldn’t answer that question.”
Ana was about to respond, when she looked past Tara. “Uh, can I help you, sir?”
Tara turned to find a formally dressed waiter standing there. He motioned to Tara. “I’m to escort Mrs. Parnell to the dining table.”
“Excuse me?” Tara said, wondering what was going on.
“Mr. Dempsey requests your presence at a private dinner, ma’am,” the spiffy waiter said with an elegant bow.
“Oh, my, oh, my,” Ana said, a smile splitting her face. “I guess it is time for us to go home, Rock.”
“Can’t we stay and watch? Things are just about to get interesting,” Rock said in a mock whine.
Tara looked from the expectant face of the waiter back to her sister and Rock. “What should I do?”
“Do?” Ana pushed at her arm. “Do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, Tara. Go and talk to Stone.”
Tara nodded, her throat too dry to speak. Then she turned back to Ana. “Will you check on Laurel and the girls?” She’d already told Ana and Rock about Laurel’s visit.
“Of course,” Rock said. “We’ll even bring them back to our house, if that will make you feel better.”
Tara nodded. “I think Laurel would appreciate that.”
She waited until they walked around to the portico on the side of the house, then turned back to the smiling waiter. “I’m ready.”
Stone wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. But it was now or never. He’d tried to stay away from Tara. He’d even asked God to help him. He’d promised Laurel he wouldn’t hurt her or her mother. But mostly, Stone didn’t want to be hurt himself.
But he knew that if he didn’t tell Tara that he loved her, he’d become the same miserable excuse of a man he’d been up until now. And he didn’t want to be that man anymore.
Stone stood on the sandy beach, just a few feet away from the pounding surf, and looked up the path toward the imposing mansion. To his right, stood the lighthouse. And just beyond that on his left, the stark image of his mother’s sculpture shot up into the night from the rocks to meet the stars. Stone could see the water falling gently from the center of the never-ending fountain that his mother had placed in the middle of the steel crossbeams. He’d had the water pipe especially installed among the rocks so the water would always continue to flow out and back into the sea, only to return time and time again, just like the ocean waves.
He’d had a table set up here between the lighthouse and the sculpture. A storm lantern for atmosphere and an orchid for his lady. Dinner for two.
And now he waited for Tara to come. And asked God to show him how to be the man she needed him to be.
Then he saw her. She was walking down the path toward him, her white dress shimmering like bits of moonlight, her wrap falling away from her dainty shoulders, her hair coming out in strands around her face as the tropical wind played through it. The sight of her took his breath, but knowing she was coming to him at last gave him courage.
His heart felt open and full, overflowing, as it sputtered and puttered to a new beat, to a new beginning. He felt a solid wall of fear, but he also felt as if he’d been washed clean and reborn. He couldn’t mess up this time.
So he stood there in his tuxedo and held out his hand to the woman he loved.
“You,” she said, her expression full of confusion and hope.
“Me,” he answered, remembering the first time they’d said those words to each other in such a different way.
Tara nodded, one hand going up to push hair off her face. “I had to see you.”
“And I wanted to see you.” Stone guided her to one of the high-backed chrome chairs placed at the round, white-clothed table. Then he motioned to the lush bright-pink-and-white flower sitting in a weighted pot on the table. “I brought you this.”
“It’s lovely.”
“It made me think of you.”
“Orchids? I remind you of orchids?”
“You’re dainty and very ladylike, yes. And a bit exotic, hard to read. You need lots and lots of nurturing.”
She smiled and looked down at the table. “Did you have this shipped in just for me?”
“No, I grew this just for you. With my own two hands.”
Her head shot up, her gaze touching on him, on his hands. “You always manage to surprise me.”
Stone wanted to kiss her. “Are you hungry, thirsty?”
Tara sank down in the chair and allowed him to push it forward on the soft sand. “No, Stone, I’m mostly curious. Where were you all night?”
“I was around,” he said, suddenly nervous.
“But you didn’t bother to make an appearance.”
“No, I didn’t. I don’t like parties.”
“Then why did you throw one?”
“Just to see you in that dress.”
“Well, I’ve been in this dress all night. But I didn’t see you.”
“I was around,” he repeated, remembering how he’d watched her getting out of the limo earlier. Remembering how he’d watched her laughing and smiling as she moved through the crowd. Remembering while he’d watched her that he’d promised to be patient, that he’d promised Laurel he would cause them no more pain. Remembering that he couldn’t deal with his own pain. “I saw you, but I couldn’t—”
“You couldn’t break your promise to my daughter,” Tara said as she pushed her wrap away, her eyes locking with his.
“What promise would that be?” he asked with a nonchalant shrug as he settled back in his own chair.
“The one she explained to me tonight, when she came here to tell me that she loves me and she wants me to fight for you. The one you made to her the night she hid in the darkness of your house up there on the hill.”
“What about it?”
“What about it?” she repeated, her voice catching with a mixture of awe and frustration. “You were willing to walk away? You were willing to stay away, for the sake of my children? You’d do that for Laurel?”
Stone felt trapped, like a bit of flotsam caught between the tide and the shore. Almost home. Almost there. He just had to hold on. “I was willing to do whatever I had to do—to make you happy.”
She didn’t speak. She was scaring him to death. But then he looked over at her and saw a single tear glistening down her cheek. “Tara?”
“Laurel wants us to be together, Stone.”
He closed his eyes, tried to breathe. “And how do you feel about that?”
“I’m happy,” she said, the tears falling freely now. “So happy.”
“Because I walked away, or because you’re here with me?”
“Both,” she said, bobbing her head. “Stone, I respect you so much for what you did. And I trust you. I will never doubt you again.”
Stone felt the jagged-edged release of the last crumblings of the wall around his heart. Then a feeling of complete freedom, of complete joy, burst forth inside him, causing him to reach up a hand and clutch it to his chest. “Do you trust me enough to marry me?”
She sat still, her eyes big and blue and as vast as the ocean. The sea crashed at the shore. The wind touched on the trees. The moon laughed at the stars. And Stone knew he’d been put on earth just to reach this moment in his life.
“Yes,” she said finally. “Yes, I do.” Then she held up a hand. “I thought this was just physical, just a passing infatuation. I didn’t want to rush into anything, the way I did with Chad. But Stone, I’ve never felt this way before. This is so overwhelming, so scary, I’ve tried to deny it, to hide it.”
Stone came out of his chair to pull her into his arms. He crushed her close, his lips touching on her eyes, her hair, her mouth. “No more hiding.”
“No, no more hiding,” she said as she pushed her hands through his hair to bring his head down to hers. “We’re free now, Stone. Free and clear.”
Stone held Tara there on the beach, with the ocean waves breaking around them, and knew that he’d come out of the darkness at last. Then he grabbed the lantern off the table and took her by the hand, pulling her along the shore. “I want to show you something.”
Tara laughed, followed him to the sculpture called The Resurrection. “Read this,” he said, holding the lantern so she could see. “It’s Psalms 107, Verse 23.”
Tara read the King James verse he’d had inscribed in stone at the foot of The Resurrection:
“‘They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders of the deep.”’
She touched a hand on his arm. “You dedicated this to your father—Tillman Dempsey.”
“Yes. I understand now, Tara.”
Tara turned back into his arms. “Oh, Stone. I never knew I could love this way.”
“Me, either,” he said. Then he held a hand to her face. “And I never knew I could be loved.”
“It’s a wonder,” Tara said. Then she kissed him again.
Stone accepted that wonder into his heart and felt the joyous burden of happiness and hope and resurrection, at last.