Chapter Fifteen

A FEW BLOCKS AWAY, CANDACE LAY AWAKE AS well. But for a very refreshing change, she wasn’t hounded by worries. Wedding plans were back on track, and what could be more wonderful than to have the event at Elena’s home?

Candace’s insomnia was due to a flurry of thoughts. She thought of her time at the Bells’ home, where she had spent the evening caring for Fern—cleaning, and cooking a week’s worth of dinners for the family with her mother and Brooke.

Nelson and Gideon had done their penance by cleaning and vacuuming. For a while, Nelson had sat in a chair near the sofa looking morose, watching his mother sleep, and no doubt worrying about his father. Gideon had gone to the hospital to take his dad some books and magazines. “Don’t wait up,” he’d said. “I might spend the night with Dad.”

Nelson had opted to stay with his mom, and Candace suspected they’d worked out a plan between the two of them to be with one parent or the other all or most of the time.

Candace had put the last of the meals into the refrigerator and freezer at around ten forty-five. After making certain Fern got to bed safely, she left her mother in charge. Janet would spend the night, and Fern’s sister would arrive in the morning.

Candace and Brooke arrived home at eleven thirty. Exhausted, her daughter gave her a good-night hug and dragged herself upstairs to her room.

Candace headed down to the family room where her sweet husband-to-be was asleep on the sofa with Howie tucked in beside him. Not all that long ago, she’d probably have cried, remembering how Dean had loved snuggling with his kids.

Now she remembered with a quiet sense of joy at how fortunate she’d been to have had him, even for those short years. Howie had been without a dad for such a long time, and now he had Heath. Candace imagined Dean watching over them and smiling, thankful that Heath was there to care for his family.

She’d kissed both her guys, but only Heath woke up. He stretched and glanced at his watch. “Hey, sweetheart, sorry I drifted off.”

“We were later than I’d originally thought. Cooking a week’s worth of meals takes time—even with three of us working.”

Heath extricated himself from Howie. “Want me to carry him upstairs?”

“Sure—that way I won’t have to wake him up.” She’d stopped trying to carry her boy anywhere of late. Howie was simply too heavy. Besides that, he’d informed her on his birthday in January that he was much too big to have his mom carrying him around. If he needed carrying, the job fell to Heath.

Candace put water on to boil, hoping Heath would stay for a while so she could tell him the good news about the wedding. However, she had a hunch, after hearing that Heath and Cesar had talked earlier, that he already knew.

She began sorting through the mail, since she hadn’t had a chance earlier. There were several cards and RSVPs for the wedding. Among them was one from her father.

Hi, sweetie.

It’s still not looking good for me to be at the wedding. That gift I promised is on the way.

Love,

Dad 

The words blurred on the paper and she hunched in her seat.

“What’s wrong?” Heath came up behind her, his arms encircling her waist.

“This card from Dad. I know he told me on the phone, but the card seems so final.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure he’d be here if he could.”

She nodded. “It’s not that big a deal, but I did want you to meet him.”

“I will—soon enough.” Heath held her close, his gentleness calming her. She stepped away when the teakettle whistled. “Want some tea?”

“No, but you go ahead. I’ll get some water and head home.”

“Oh, but it’s so early,” Candace teased.

Heath had left a few minutes later, and here it was, after midnight, and she simply couldn’t get to sleep. Her mind buzzed with excitement as she soaked in the image of how beautiful their wedding would be. She asked the Lord for two things that night. First, that her father be able to come, and second, that it wouldn’t rain. She chuckled. “Lord, I hope You don’t mind my putting in an order for sunshine, but there it is.”

Heath would tell her not to worry—that the important thing was that at the end of the day they would be husband and wife. He was so right.

James awoke around 3:00 AM to find Gideon sacked out in the recliner. His eldest had brought him a runner’s magazine and one of his favorite theology books. James hadn’t been able to read either of them—not that he hadn’t tried. His eyes wouldn’t focus and his brain didn’t seem the least bit interested.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Gideon jerked to attention. “Dad? What are you doing? Do you need anything?”

James smiled and shook his head. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

His son seemed to relax a bit. “Are you sure you should be sitting up like that?”

“I need to start moving around. Do you have any idea what happens to the body when you just lie around? It’s going to take weeks to get my stamina back.”

James had always boasted excellent health. He ran several days a week and worked out with weights. He was proud of the fact that as a runner he could still keep up with—and even outrun—Gideon, who had just turned seventeen.

“Yeah, but if you move too fast, you could have a setback.”

“Sitting on the edge of the bed hardly qualifies as moving too fast.” James ran a hand through his graying hair. Gideon was right, of course, but James didn’t have a lot of patience with being ill. He was still beating himself up about not going to the doctor sooner. His stubbornness had cost him dearly, and not just monetarily. He really needed to work. And if he had been home, Fern wouldn’t have fallen.

God seemed to chide him for the thought. He couldn’t always protect her. Still, the floor would have been clear of debris if he’d been there to supervise the boys.

“How’s your mom?” James tried to keep his tone even and not accusatory. His boys already felt terrible about her accident, and he didn’t want to add to their guilt.

Gideon ducked his head as if to say he really didn’t want to talk about her fall. “She’s okay. Nelson is there with her. Mrs. Fuller’s staying at the house tonight too.” He told James about the week’s worth of meals. “So we’re set. I think it’s pretty cool how your friends help out.”

“So do I. I just wish they didn’t have to.”

“Mom said to tell you not to worry. She’ll come in tomorrow—I mean later today.”

James eased back onto the bed and adjusted the covers. “I’m hoping Dr. Drew will let me go home by then.”

Worry swept across Gideon’s face. “Don’t push it, Dad.”

Don’t push it. Right. Easy for him to say. He wasn’t responsible for a family and house payments and all the other things Fern and the boys depended on him for.

The big question in his mind was how in the world he was going to get back to business as usual when a simple act like sitting up made him feel like he’d just run a marathon.

At 6:00 AM on Saturday, Anabelle already had a mug of hot coffee in her hand as she headed toward her favorite chair near the patio to read her Bible and devotional book.

Sleeping in hadn’t been an option this morning. She’d awakened with a start and had no idea why. Perhaps a dream or maybe one of the children had made a noise. She’d gone to Kirstie’s room to check, but they were both sound asleep. By then she was wide-awake.

As she read her devotional, she once again thought about the issue of healing. Why were some people healed—perhaps even spontaneously—and others not?

Like Fern. She’d known James and Fern for years. She and many others had prayed for healing from the MS. But the disease didn’t go away. It just kept progressing. Sure—there were times when her symptoms faded and she went into remission; but all in all, Fern had not been healed of her MS. Anabelle wondered if Reverend Whitfield would cite lack of faith as the reason.

Just thinking about him stirred up anxiety. She closed her book and set it aside.

“Just trust in the Lord as you always have, Anabelle,” she murmured. Lean not on your own understanding. The familiar verse popped into her head.

Looking upward, she said, “God, I love You and trust You, but boy, do I have a lot of questions for You when I get up there.”

Before going back into the kitchen for a refill, Anabelle prayed for her patients—especially for Janelle and Bernice. One believed beyond a doubt that she had been healed. The other, burdened by grief and disappointment, refused to believe at all.

With her spill-proof thermal mug in hand, she climbed back up the stairs and ducked into her sewing room.

While Anabelle could hear all the ruckus with the kids getting dressed and breakfast being made, she made no move to join the fray. This was her day to piece together all of the fabric she’d cut. With any luck at all, the top would be done by the end of the day.

True to their word, Kirstie and Mark came by at ten to take the children to the water park. Cam decided to stay at home to finish a few projects around the house and barn. Before heading outside, he popped in to tell her about his plans for the day.

Anabelle half listened as he talked about cleaning up the greenhouse and taking plants to the nursery. “By the way, Genna called, but said she’d catch you later and not to bother you.”

Anabelle stopped piecing long enough to kiss him good-bye. “Good luck with your projects.”

He grinned. “You too, luv.”

She grinned. “Thanks for looking after Olivia and Jacob this morning.”

“They’re easy enough to take care of. Though, I’m glad Mark and Kirstie have taken them. Maybe they’ll run off some of that energy.”

He gave her another kiss and left. Anabelle turned up her music a tad and settled in for a full day of doing what she loved.

Sometime after Cameron left, the doorbell rang. She debated whether or not to answer it.

“Hallooo?” A familiar voice echoed up the stairs.

Anabelle stepped out of her sewing room. “Genna! What a surprise. Come on up.”

She took the steps more like a teenager than a woman in her sixties. “Your door was unlocked, and somehow I knew you’d be up here.” Genna looked at Anabelle’s worktable. “Oh, how nice! The wedding quilt. It’s going to be gorgeous.”

“Thanks! That is, if I ever get it done.”

“You will. You know how cutting and piecing is the most time consuming. My favorite part is sewing it all together and watching as the pattern emerges.”

“I couldn’t agree more. So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Well, I know how stressed you’ve been, and I had a hunch,” Genna said with a mischievous grin, “that you would be up for a little break. And to me, nothing spells break better than c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e.”

Anabelle laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“So…,” Genna continued, “I’ve come to kidnap you. We’re going to the world-famous Chocolate Garden for treats.”

Anabelle was delighted. “I definitely can use a break.” She took a restorative breath.

“Great! We can take my car.”

As they walked into the Chocolate Garden, a flyer in the storefront window caught Anabelle’s eye. It was an invitation to attend a cake-decorating class that Elyse, the store’s owner, would be teaching. She thought immediately about Candace.

Elyse came out of the back room as soon as the bell rang. “Hi, Anabelle, Genna. You’re just in time to try my new truffles.” She gestured to a tray sitting on the counter. Elyse had a slight build. Every time Anabelle saw her, she wondered how someone who could create such decadent chocolates could remain so thin.

“Yum.” Genna reached for one.

Anabelle winked at Genna. “Yep, this is exactly the kind of break I needed.”

Elyse began to ring them up. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Actually,” Anabelle said, “I saw your flyer in the window about cake-decorating classes. I didn’t know you made cakes.”

“Well, it’s not my main business—it’s more of a hobby. Making cakes professionally would be too time consuming on top of running the Chocolate Garden, but I do love making them once in a while. I thought that once the fall came and business let up just the tiniest bit, teaching a few classes would be fun.”

“So you bake and decorate cakes?” Anabelle nearly cheered at the news.

She nodded. “You betcha. I’m a trained pastry chef. Attended a culinary school in Europe and worked there for five years before coming back to the States.”

“I didn’t know that.” Genna beamed. “No wonder everything you make is so delicious. These truffles are out of this world.” Genna had already taken a small bite.

“Do you do wedding cakes?” Anabelle continued her inquiry.

Elyse laughed. “Call it a hunch, but I have the feeling you’re asking about something in particular. I’ve done them, but it’s been a few years.”

Anabelle laughed. “Busted. My friend is in the market for a wedding cake. You know Candace Crenshaw, don’t you?”

“I know everyone in town who has a sweet tooth.” Elyse grinned.

“Well, the lady she had lined up had to cancel—”

“And you’d like me to make it?”

Anabelle nodded. “I know it’s short notice, but—”

“Say no more. I’d be happy to!”

Anabelle could hardly believe the fortuitous turn of events.

“I’m going to call my friend Elena and see if she can come by,” Anabelle said. “Okay with you, Genna?”

“The more the merrier,” Genna said and took another bite of her truffle.

Anabelle pulled out her cell phone, scrolled to Elena’s entry in her contact list, and hit Send.

Elena, of course, was thrilled and was already in her car by the time she hung up.

Anabelle chuckled. “She’s on her way.”

Elena was there within five minutes. After she and Elyse discussed the cake—which included candy pearls and roses on fondant—Anabelle knew the cake would be elegant and perfect for Candace’s taste.

“I’m so excited to do this cake,” Elyse said, “that I’ll do it gratis. All I would want are photos to use in my promo materials—that is, if they like what I’ve done.”

“I’m sure Candace will be more than willing,” Elena said. “I’ll talk to her and call you later this afternoon.”

With the cake issue settled and their chocolate long gone, Elena and Genna and Anabelle went their separate ways. Moments after Genna dropped her off at home, Anabelle resumed her quilting project.

Her cell phone rang at five o’clock. The readout told her the call was from Hope Haven. She hoped they weren’t going to ask her to come in. She answered, ready to decline the request.

“Anabelle, I’m glad I caught you.” It was Amy, one of the CCU nurses. “Janelle Peters is back. I thought you’d want to know. She’s stable, but Dr. Hildebrand plans to do surgery on Monday.”

Anabelle blew out a long breath. She wasn’t surprised, just disappointed. She had begun to let herself believe that Janelle had been healed.

“Thanks for calling. I’ll check in on her on my next shift.”

“One more thing, Anabelle. Dr. Hildebrand is still pretty wary of Reverend Whitfield, but Mrs. Peters is insisting that we have him come and pray with her.”

“It’s okay, Amy. Call Reverend Whitfield and tell him Mrs. Peters is asking for him. Dr. Hildebrand will understand. The reverend knows that he needs to advise Janelle to stay in the hospital.”

Anabelle closed the phone just as it rang again. She took the call without looking to see who it was first.

“Hi, Mother.”

“Ainslee! It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too. I’ve been working on dinner all day. Kirstie, Mark, Dad, and Maureen’s kids are coming. We thought you might like to join us as well.”

“Thanks for thinking of me.” She appreciated the invitation but wasn’t really in the mood to go out. “I think I’ll pass, honey. I’m making headway on the wedding quilt.”

“Are you okay? I mean you never turn down an invitation to hang out with Lindsay Belle.”

“I’m fine.” Anabelle told her about her downtown experience with Genna, Elena, and Elyse. “I was gone longer than I’d planned so—”

“Wow. I knew about Elyse and the cake classes. I signed up to take them.”

“The cake-decorating class sounds like fun.” Anabelle thought again about joining her family for dinner. “Maybe I’ll come after all. I’ve accomplished a lot today, and I can plan on piecing tomorrow afternoon.”

Ainslee laughed as her father said something Anabelle couldn’t hear. “Pop, I don’t think that’s necessary. She said she’d come.”

“What was that all about?” Anabelle asked.

“Pop told me to tell you that if you didn’t come, he’d come get you and carry you over if necessary.”

“Is that right?” Anabelle laughed at the thought of being captured by her husband and hauled off to dinner. She’d have to tease him about his caveman antics later.

“I’ll clean up and be there in a few minutes.”

She thought about running by the hospital first, but decided against it. She had her cell phone and had asked the nurses to call if necessary. Her job at the moment was to enjoy her family.

Elena could not believe her good fortune. The Lord truly did answer prayers. After the crazy dream she’d had about her own disastrous cake-baking fiasco, she’d been praying that they would find someone. And now they had the best candy maker in the state, who loved making fondant and roses and candy pearls, and was willing to provide the cake. She could hardly wait to tell Candace. She’d wait, however, to tell her in person, just so she could see her friend’s face when she told her the good news.

Elena went back to work on Isabel’s dress, all the while thinking about what great friends she had. Anabelle had offered to take on the shower for Candace and felt certain Ainslee and Kirstie would help. She mentally crossed cake and shower off her list. But looming large and due in a few days were all of those costumes she’d offered to make.

Tomorrow, she told herself. I’ll finish the dress tonight and get to the costumes right after church.

On Sunday after church and a quick lunch, Anabelle once again closed her sewing room door. This time, however, she was not alone. Kirstie had come along to see the progress on the quilt and had brought Olivia in. The three-year-old stared in awe at the shelves of fabrics and machines.

Kirstie held the child as her gaze passed over the squares Anabelle had done. “You are so amazing, Mother. Candace is going to treasure this.”

Anabelle sighed. “I hope so.”

“It looks very—vintage.”

“I know. Isn’t it great that the manufacturers have brought back replicas of all these old cotton prints.” She grinned and picked up a rose calico. “Can you believe millers used to package flour in cloth like this? Your great-grandmother used to bake bread every day. She’d clean up the sacks and save them until she had enough for a blouse or a dress.”

“They were eco-friendly before their time.”

“That’s for sure—you didn’t throw anything away if there was another possible use for it.”

Kirstie adjusted Olivia, who was more than ready for a nap. “I’m going to put her down and come right back if that’s okay.”

“Please do.” Anabelle loved the idea of having Kirstie to herself for a couple of hours. Cam and Mark had taken Jacob with them to work on a landscaping project that Evan couldn’t do.

When Kirstie came back in, she settled herself in front of a sewing machine. “Can I help?”

“Of course. As long as you can sew a quarter-inch seam, you’re hired.”

She placed a stack of cut strips on the table and attached the quarter-inch foot. “Just keep the edge of the fabric on the flange and you’ll have a perfect width.” She gave Kirstie verbal and written instructions on how to put the various pieces together. Soon both machines hummed while Anabelle’s soothing music played in the background.

“So Mother, what’s your opinion of Maureen?” Kirstie smirked. “I know you have one.”

Anabelle gave her a mock reprimanding glance. “Well, if you must know…” She smiled and then got serious. “I like her. She’s doing a fantastic job managing the nursery for Evan.”

Kirstie paused her machine. “Do you think Maureen and Evan are getting serious?”

“I’m not sure.” Anabelle laughed. “But did Ainslee tell you how Evan and Maureen played us when we went to the store?”

Kirstie grinned. “Yes, and I say, good for them. Ainslee said you are a little worried that Evan might be getting in over his head.”

Anabelle nodded. “But it’s more than that. He’s my son, and he’s never been in a serious relationship.” She sighed. “A ready-made family might be a shock to his inexperienced system.”

Kirstie grinned. “I guess I can see your point, but…I think she and the kids are perfect for him.”

“Oh?” Anabelle could sense something in Kirstie’s eyes. “Have you talked to him about this? Does he love her? Does she love him?”

She laughed. “Mother, calm down. Remember, he’s not a kid anymore. And be honest. Not one of the girls Evan has ever even casually dated has been right for him—in your opinion.”

“Well, none of them were.” Anabelle shrugged, fully aware of her mama-bear attitude.

“Maybe not…until now. Anyway, yes, I’ve talked with Evan about it. He told me that they’re just friends, but I don’t believe him.”

“That’s what Maureen told us too. And I didn’t believe her either.”

“Ainslee told me how worried she was after the accident. You should have seen how she doted on him after he went home. That woman is in love.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do. I’m curious, Mother. What do you think about Heath and Candace getting married?”

Anabelle stopped her machine and caught Kirstie’s gaze. “I’m thrilled for both of them.”

“Me too. Do you realize that Evan’s only five years younger than Heath? Heath was single like Evan, and Candace has two children, just like—”

Anabelle interrupted, smiling. “I’ve thought about the similarities. Heath has been a godsend to Candace. He’s the dad Howie never had. But Evan is—”

“Ours. I know. We all want what’s best for him. But think about it. Evan can offer Maureen and the kids many of the same things Heath offers Candace. Love, stability, and a father for her children. And, Mother, she’s been good for Evan. He seems different—happier. Evan and Maureen have so much in common, and they like each other.”

“Like. That’s the point isn’t it? Is what they have enough? Maureen told Ainslee and me that she wasn’t ready for a relationship. She’s still grieving over her late husband. There are so many complications to overcome.”

“That’s true enough, but if they love each other, it will all work out.”

Anabelle went back to sewing. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see,” she said.

They continued to work and talk. With Kirstie being gone all summer, they had a lot to catch up on. They accomplished a great deal during Olivia’s nap time, both catching up on each other’s lives and on the quilt. By the time Olivia woke up, they had completed the quilt top.

Kirstie popped back into the room holding Olivia’s hand. “We’re going down to make dinner, but Olivia wanted to say hi to Nana.” Kirstie gave her mother an impish grin.

Olivia reached out for Anabelle and gave her a hug. “Can you come downstairs and make dinner with me and Kirstie?”

“In a few minutes.” Anabelle kissed her soft angel cheek and nearly cried. She had already fallen for these adorable children. Anabelle took a step back, not only physically, but with her heart as well. They could speculate on the relationship all they wanted, but in the end, Evan and Maureen would make the final choice.

On Sunday afternoon, James was more than ready to go home. Fern had been there all day, looking so weary that he finally urged her to go home, have dinner, and take a nap. He made her promise to wait until the next day to come back.

Watching Gideon wheel her out broke his heart. His worries about money and her care escalated. He had no business being sick. He needed to work and to take care of her. He suspected the MS symptoms had worsened, though she insisted that she was as good as ever.

Since he’d lost his job and been hired again recently, he had no sick days accumulated. Every day without a paycheck meant more bills, and he was already behind from being laid off the first time.

“Hello, James.” Dr. Drew moved the curtain aside. “The nurses tell me you’ve been complaining about the accommodations here.” His brows knitted together in concern even though there was a teasing quality in his tone.

“I need to go home, Doc. I need to get back to work. Being in here is costing me a fortune.”

The doctor pulled a chair up beside the bed. “James, let me explain something to you.”

James sighed. “If your answer is no, I don’t want to hear it.”

Drew chuckled. “Forgive me for laughing, James. It’s just that I seem to recall having the same argument with you after I had my heart attack. I was all gung ho to get back to work. I did, and I suffered a major setback. Do you remember what you told me?”

James ran a hand through his hair. “Take it slow. We want you around for a long time.”

“Exactly. Staying here for a few more days may seem like a sacrifice, and maybe even a hardship on your family, but in the long run, it’s the safe thing to do.”

James was humbled. Dr. Drew was right. “You have a point. But my family depends on me.”

“And patients depended on me. But this is the wise thing to do.” He touched James’s forearm. “You don’t have to worry about Fern. She’s taken care of for now. You have community support—friends and family. My advice for you is to relax and enjoy your time off. Do some reading. Even after I discharge you, I want you to take at least the rest of the following week off.”

James thanked him for taking the time, appreciating the fact that he was not only a physician, but also a friend. He knew Dr. Drew was right, but following the doctor’s orders would be difficult at best.

Several minutes later, Dr. Drew returned with a hard copy of James’s medical file. He placed it on the bedside table and announced that James was doing well enough to be transferred to the Med/Surg Unit that evening. It was a start.

Alone now, James prayed that if he had to lie low for a few days in order to fully recover, the Lord would give him patience and peace of mind. And most of all, that the Lord would keep his family, especially Fern, safe and well.