Imagine That (29 page)

Emily tossed her suitcase in the trunk and slammed it shut. Wordsworth was secure in his carrier. A cooler filled with drinks and two roast beef sandwiches rested in the back seat. The picnic came courtesy of Grace, who'd slipped out her screen door before Emily could make an escape.

“Are you sure you have to rush off?” Grace asked. “The sun's not even fully up. If you wait a few more minutes, I'm sure—”

“Nate's not coming,” Emily said as she walked around the car. “I didn't expect him to.”

The woman smiled in a gentle, but firm way, which said she knew all secrets. “Of course you did.”

Emily lowered her gaze before she betrayed herself. “Silly of me.”

“It's never silly to try when you love someone. I'm sorry you feel you have to go.”

“So am I.”

“I hope you'll call when you get— Where are you going?”

“Home. I think it's time to face those demons. No more gallivanting across the world.”

“Are you sure?” Grace asked, smoothing a lock of Emily's hair back from her face. “Perhaps you're meant to settle here.”

Emily pulled away. “All of you must read from the same script. You never give up.”

“We try never to give up on people in Covington Falls.”

Emily smiled. A real smile from the heart. “Thank you for sharing your apartment with me. It is indeed special.”

“I'm so sorry things didn't work out.”

“I think maybe they did, just not the way I imagined.”

After one last hug, Emily jumped in her car. Backing out of the driveway took more willpower than she'd ever imagined. She refused to look in the rearview mirror. Refused to take her eyes off the road as she drove through town. She certainly didn't look in the direction of Nate's street.

Lake Rice ruined everything.

How could Emily not look at the small oasis? How could she not pull over? Especially since she couldn't see well enough to drive?

A thin blanket of fog enveloped the surface, with the first glimmering rays of gold breaking over the horizon. Ethereal. Otherworldly. A land formed in the imagination, for surely it couldn't actually exist.

Emily closed her eyes.
Hey God?
Yeah, I know what
Y
ou
'
re thinking.
How come she only prays when she
'
s desperate?
As many people would attest, I
'
m obstinate.
I don
'
t have any excuse.
I always think I know better, but it seems like the more I try
,
the more I mess things up.
So, here
'
s the deal.
I
'
ll leave everything up to
Y
ou.
Everyone says
Y
ou have a plan
,
so now
'
s the time to reveal a bit of it.

She opened her eyes. The fog was beginning to lift now. Suddenly, the scene shifted.

Out of the mist rode a figure.
A man.
On a white horse.
Not a great steed, but a faithful old workhorse.
A horse once used in a field, not in battle.
The man was a scarred veteran of many wars.
A hero who no longer wanted to be a hero.

In front of him sat a boy.
No, not just any boy.
The
p
rince.
The only surviving member of a
royal family
that
was destroyed by an avenging dragon.
A
p
rince saved by the once
-
upon
-
a
-
time hero
,
and now the two must cross a dangerous land to safety.

Emily blinked and the vision disappeared. She looked at the carrier.

“Wordsworth, I think I have a story.”

****

“You're a hard man to find.”

Nate did a double take as Julia walked into the coffee shop. He wondered at first if the sleepless night had affected his mind more than he'd realized.

“What are you doing here?” Nate asked.

Julia ignored him. “You must be Dale Cooper,” she said, looking across the table. “We were never properly introduced. I'm Julia Graham.”

“Seth's wife,” Nate filled in.

“Ah, the preacher,” Dale said, holding out his hand. “He made an extraordinary choice.”

Julia slanted her gaze toward Nate. “He's got a way with words, doesn't he? Considering I was dragged out of bed well before my alarm went off, and I didn't bother to put myself together, I'll choose to believe he's being polite.”

“You still haven't told me why you're here,” Nate said.

“Saving your future, you big jerk,” Julia said, eyes sparking with temper. “Emily's packing her car as we speak. Grace called me before she went out to try and stall her latest lovelorn garage dweller.”

“She's leaving?”

“Yeah, cowboy. I went by your house. Woke up Zach. He said you'd been gone all night. He wasn't sure if I'd find you two alive or just a couple of dead bodies. Then I spent a few useless minutes pounding on the door of 302, fearing I might find a murder-suicide or something else equally heinous inside.”

“We were there until a few minutes ago.”

“Great,” Julia said, crossing her arms. “I assume you two had some kind of miraculous breakthrough where your father's concerned, since you're still here, but if you don't get your butt up out of that booth and chase after Emily, I will personally break both of your arms.”

Nate was already on his feet. “Dad, I have to—”

“Go, go!” his father said. “I can wait.”

Nate hit the pavement at a dead run. His heart raced in time with the speedometer. He didn't know how much time he'd lost. If Emily would still be at Grace's or not.

The fog didn't help. He was forced to go slower than he wanted. He concentrated on the road as the lake came into view.

Then he spotted Emily's car.

Heart in his throat, Nate brought his truck to a stop and jumped out. He wrenched her door open before she could even put a foot on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked.

Nate wanted to sweep her up and carry her away. If he kept her in solitude and apologized for three straight weeks, maybe she'd forgive him.

“I'm trying to find the words to make you stay,” he said.

Her shoulders remained stiff and unyielding. “Is it so difficult?”

“It is when I've been a complete idiot. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me. I can't believe the things I said.”

“I betrayed you.”

He shook his head. “You tried to save me, and I took your head off for it.”

She put a finger to her temple and tapped twice as a smile ghosted across her lips. “Hmm, no it's still in place.”

The pressure squeezing his heart eased, and his head swam as relief began to crowd out doubt. “Em…”

“It's working properly again, too,” she said. “You wouldn't believe the idea I had.”

“You got your imagination back?”

“I think I was inspired.”

“I know you inspire me,” he said, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “Inspired me to be a better man.”

She twisted away, putting distance between them. “Nate, you don't know what it means that you chased after me, but there are a lot of things we have to work out. You and your father—”

“Ask me where I've been.”

Her brows pulled together. “Where have you been?” She looked back up the road and realization dawned. “Did you go see him?”

“It's why I was late chasing after you,” Nate said, hooking an arm around her waist. “We ended up talking all night.”

Emily didn't pull away again. Instead, she searched his face. “All night? You found a lot to talk about. What did he say?”

“He told me everything. About his father, the beatings, his addictions… and his temper.”

“You're not like him,” she said, framing his face. “I should never have said that.”

“I don't know,” he said, leaning into her palm and relishing her touch after depriving himself for so long. “The way I've been feeling since my mother died scares me. It's like I have an animal inside me, and when it breaks loose, I don't have control anymore. It's why I've been going to see Seth.”

“You're not like your grandfather,” she said. “Neither is Dale. He ran to escape his past, but now he's conquered the darkness. And you are so much stronger than he is. You've got Rachel's blood in your veins, and I think she cancels out any bad strains.”

“I think you do the same thing.” Nate pulled her closer. “I don't know what I can possibly offer you. I'm still an average Joe. The guy who couldn't make it through college, and who will probably never understand half of what you say. And since you've found your imagination again, you don't need to be Aurora Johnston's companion or deliver library books. You can go back to being E.J. Sinclair, world-famous author.”

A slow smile lifted the corners of Emily's mouth. “Ask me again.”

“What?”

“The questions you asked the night of your mother's birthday party.”

Sweet hope flooded through him, replacing the acid bitterness he'd known for so long. Nate lowered his head and feathered his lips across her cheek. “Do you think you could hitch yourself to a house painter from a nowhere town?”

“Yes,” she said on a soft sigh.

His lips drifted to the corner of her mouth. “Do you think you could live in my house?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you can imagine waking up next to me every day for the rest of your life?”

She threaded her hands in his hair and captured his lips. “Yesss.”

Growing up Kristin devoured books like bags of Dove Dark Chocolate. Her first
Golden Book
led to Laura Ingalls Wilder, Nancy Drew, Encyclopedia Brown, C.S. Lewis and the Sweet Valley High series. Later, she discovered romance novels and fell in love all over again. It's no surprise then that Kristin would one day try her hand at writing them. She writes inspirational romance and women's fiction filled with love, laughter and a leap of faith. When she's not writing her next novel, Kristin works as an advertising copywriter. Over the 15-year career in the ad industry, she has worked on clients that have included the Miami Marlins, Discovery Networks, Radisson Seven Seas Cruises, The Peabody Hotel and Sea World. She also enjoys singing in the church choir and worship team and playing flute in a community orchestra.

You can connect with Kristin online at:

Website:
www.KristinWallaceAuthor.com

Facebook:
http://facebook.com/KristinWallaceAuthor

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/KWallaceAuthor

Chapter One

The past is like a revolving door, and if people aren't careful it'll come back and whop them in the backside. Hard.

Like Julia Richardson's just did.

“Julia, we… Sarah needs you. It's the baby.”

Two sentences, barely audible, as her former stepsister's husband fought to get the words out. Those two sentences had Julia behind the wheel in the dead of night, headed back to the small Southern town — and the family — she'd successfully avoided for fifteen years.

She looked in the rearview mirror and spotted an errant, titian-colored curl sticking straight up. With a stifled groan, she mashed it down. Ah, humidity, such a lovely thing. The farther south she got, the more it curled. By the time she reached her destination she expected to look like a dead ringer for a certain redheaded, singing orphan. If said orphan was a full-figured Amazon with a bad attitude.

By the time Julia drove past the quaintly painted sign, which proclaimed she was entering Covington Falls, Georgia —
Covington
for the founding family,
Falls
for the trickle of water which emptied into Lake Rice, the name of the other founding family — the sun was blazing. Surprisingly, she knew exactly where to go. Or maybe not so surprising since it didn't look like much had changed in fifteen years. It still looked like a small and dainty cousin of Savannah.

She turned down a tree-lined lane that could have doubled for a 50s television show and a moment later pulled into the driveway of Grace's house. A white, two-story Colonial number with a wrap-around porch, complete with a swing. Rounding out this picture of all-American perfection was an honest to goodness white picket fence. Julia stared at the house, wondering what in the world she was doing here. She so didn't belong in a place like this.

Before she could back out of the driveway, the front door opened, and a woman stepped out onto the porch.

Grace. Ex-stepmother #3. Mother of Sarah and the reason for the midnight run.

Julia got out of the car unsure what kind of reception to expect. Before she knew it, Grace flew down the stairs with arms outstretched.

A familiar scent of cookies and violets invaded her senses. Exactly the way an angel might smell, she imagined. When she ‘d been thirteen, and angry at the world, she hadn't been able to hug Grace back. Now Julia did. Then didn't want to let go.

Grace pulled back, taking Julia's face in her warm hands. “How I've missed you.”

“You have?”

She smiled. “You have no idea.”

“I've missed you, too.”

“Let me look at you,” Grace said, stepping back to get the full view. “Why, you're gorgeous. I always knew you would be, but my goodness you're stunning.”

“You look good yourself.”

And she did, Julia thought. There were a few more lines, and a lot more grey hairs, but the sparkle was still there. Only now there was a deeper contentment in those blue eyes Julia didn't remember from before.

“I can't believe how quickly you got here,” Grace said.

“Well, it's not like I had to bother getting off work. Getting fired sort of opens up your day.”

“I got your e-mail. Your boss had some kind of heart condition, and he had to sell the business?”

Julia nodded. “Right, and the new owner brought in his own marketing people.”

“The poor man. It must have been difficult for him.”

“I'm sure. The fantastic thing is I can't even be mad at him, because how can you blame the guy for wanting to live a while longer?”

Grace chuckled a little. “I'm sure you'll find something else. Maybe even sooner than you think.”

Julia spun around at the odd statement. “What do you mean?”

For a second Grace almost looked guilty, but in the next moment she clapped her hands. “Look at me, letting you stand here when you're probably dead on your feet! Let me help you get your bags inside. Are you hungry?”

“I'd rather go see Sarah.”

“Okay, but bags first, and I need to tell my husband where we're going.”

Julia took a tentative step inside the house. “I got your letter about him having a stroke. How is he doing?”

“He has his days, though he's much better. His speech is getting clearer, and he's regained some strength on his bad side. We're taking it one day at a time. Letting God handle all the big stuff.”

Julia bit her tongue. She'd just arrived, and now wasn't the time to get into the topic of her skepticism about God and faith.

Grace smiled.

“What?”

“Still have the same doubts about God I see.”

Julia looked at the floor.

Grace tilted Julia's chin back up. “You have to come to it in your own way.”

She walked away before Julia could respond. On the second floor, Grace stopped in front of the second bedroom on the right and opened the door. Julia's breath seized, and she came to an abrupt halt. It was the same one she'd occupied as a teenager. She was swamped with an instant flashback of the first time she'd stepped into this room. She'd been carting an enormous designer suitcase her mother had bought for the “trip”. Of course, Julia had known it was more like an “exile”, away from her mother and stepfather #2.

Julia had dragged the blasted thing up the stairs herself, having refused to let her father touch either her or her belongings. She'd glanced down to contemplate a spot on her thigh where a bruise would surely form, and then looked up. Into a fairy room. Fairies on the wallpaper, on a gorgeous poster, and even on the white shag throw rug.

Somehow, Julia had known the woman who'd become her father's third wife had done it. For her.

Grace turned. “Are you all right?”

Julia snapped back to the present. “Sure.”

“I can put you in another room,” Grace said. “Sarah's old room, if you like.”

“No, this is fine.” At least the fairies were gone now, replaced with light blue paint. She stepped over the threshold and put her bag down on the bed.

“For the longest time, I didn't even know if you read my letters,” Grace said.

“It was pretty hard to ignore those scented, handwritten letters.” Julia could hear the bite in her voice, but couldn't help it.

Grace winced. “It was too much. I told myself I should leave you alone. You'd been hurt enough, but I didn't want you to think we'd forgotten you. I wanted you to know what was going on in our lives. When you eventually started answering them, I hoped—”

“I'd come back?”

Grace flushed. “It was silly of me, I know.”

Great, in the house five minutes, and she'd already hurt Grace's feelings. Julia tried to be nice.

She drifted to the window, which looked down onto the street. “So, you married Mr. Graham from next door?”

If Grace looked surprised by the olive branch, it was only for a moment. “Yes, but then I've known John all my life. He has a son Seth. He's your age. Do you remember him?”

“Vaguely. He didn't talk much.”

Grace smiled. “He's a minister, so he has to talk more now. Of course, I told you about his poor wife Beth.”

Julia nodded. The letter telling her about Seth's wife's battle with cancer coming to an end had broken her heart, even though she'd never met the woman.

Julia turned, arms folded. “How could you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get married again? Your first husband died, and the second one dumped you. How in the world do you get to a place where you can trust your heart to someone else?”

Grace's face crumpled. “Oh, Julia. Maybe if you'd come to the wedding, or Sarah's, you would have seen—”

“Seen what? That there is such a thing as a happy ending? I was cured of such romantic notions by the time I was ten. I guess I should have sucked it up and come to Sarah's wedding. I know she was hurt because I didn't, but I made a vow to myself I wouldn't attend another wedding as long as I live, and it's one I intend never to break.”

Grace reared back a little, and Julia was immediately ashamed of her outburst. She was the world's biggest jerk. “I'm sorry.”

“No, no. It's fine,” she murmured. “I'll go tell John we're leaving, and I'll meet you downstairs.”

The door closed with a soft click, and Julia sank onto the bed. This had been such a bad idea. She should grab her suitcase and get out of here right now. The only thing stopping her was the memory of Eric's choked voice on the other end of the phone.

A few minutes after finally returning downstairs, they were on their way to the hospital.

Julia finally broke the stilted silence. “What's going on with Sarah? Eric didn't say much on the phone.”

Grace concentrated on the road. “There were some contractions. The doctor managed to get them to stop, but it was touch and go for a while. We spent the night praying, I can tell you.”

“Is the baby going to be all right? And Sarah?”

“She has to be careful right now, but I'm sure she'll give you all the details when we get there.”

“Why did Eric ask me to come down here, anyway?”

Grace glanced over. “I think they're hoping you'll be the answer to their prayers.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'll let them fill you in.”

“Why can't you fill me in?”

Another flick of the eyes in Julia's direction. “They made me promise.”

A prickle of unease worked its way down her spine. “What aren't you telling me?”

Grace patted Julia's hand. “Don't worry. You can always say no.”

The queasy feeling escalated. “Why do I feel like I should get right back in my car and escape before it's too late?”

Grace chuckled, and for the first time Julia realized the angel act
was
completely an act.

Why had she never noticed Grace was evil?