Love Finds a Home (Anthologies) (30 page)

“I think it’s here already, because I hear the rumbling of a truck.”

Amy jumped up and raced for the door. Bev caught her hand, and the two of them hurried down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

The delivery man was already unloading the tree from the back of his pickup. “Want me to haul this upstairs for you?”

Bev shook her head. “I’m sure I can manage.”

“It’s a pretty big tree, ma’am.”

“Thanks anyway.”

He merely shrugged and climbed back into his truck.

Grabbing hold of the cumbersome tree trunk and directing Amy to go ahead of her, Bev huffed and puffed her way up the flight of stairs until she stood in front of her door. She leaned the tree against the wall and studied it, wondering if the oversize tree could be squeezed through the doorway.

She turned to Amy. “Sweetie, I want you to go into the living room and wait for me. After I bring the tree inside, we can begin decorating it.”

“Okay.”

Amy disappeared inside, and Bev grabbed hold of the tree, lining the trunk up with the door. She gave it a hefty thrust, but it only went halfway and wedged against the doorjamb.
“Oomph!”
She pushed hard again, almost losing her balance and catching herself before she fell into the scraggly branches.

Bev dropped to her knees and crawled under the limbs.
Maybe I can grab hold of the trunk and push it through that way
. Grasping both sides, she gritted her teeth and gave it a shove. The tree didn’t budge.

With a sense of determination, Bev reassessed her situation. This time, facing the hallway, she would back in under the branches, grab hold, and try to pull the tree as she scooted through the doorway.

Bev had backed partway through the evergreen tunnel when a pair of men’s shoes appeared. She froze.

The branches above her head parted, and Dan grinned down at her. “Oops. Looks like I’m too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“I … uh … brought you a tree.”

“You did what?”

He shuffled his feet a few times, and Bev pushed against the branches of the tree again, hoping to dislodge it. In the process, her hair stuck to a prickly bough. “I’m trapped, and so is the tree,” she admitted sheepishly.

Dan reached through and untangled her hair. “See if you can back your way into the living room, and I’ll try to follow with the tree.”

Bev was skeptical but did as he suggested. Once she had clambered out from under the branches, she stood off to one side and waited to see what would happen.

To her amazement, Dan and the tree made their entrance a few minutes later. He obviously had more strength than she did.

After Amy greeted “Uncle Dan,” Bev asked the child to go to her room and play. Then she turned to face Dan. “Now what’s this about you bringing another tree?”

He swiped his hand across his damp forehead. “I—I figured you probably couldn’t afford to buy a nice tree, so I bought you one and was going to leave it outside your door.”

“An anonymous gift?”

He nodded and offered her a sheepish grin. “To be perfectly honest, I’ve done a couple other secret things, too.”

She frowned. “Such as?”

He pointed to the front door. “While I wasn’t the one who actually hung the wreath there, I did pay for it and asked the girls from church to put it on your door Thanksgiving morning.”

Bev sank onto the couch. “Anything else I should know?”

He shifted uneasily. “Well …”

She blew out an exasperated breath.

“I know the man who owns this building, and when you said you were interested in renting an apartment here but might not be able to afford it, I agreed to pay your landlord the extra twenty dollars he normally would have charged per month.”

Bev’s mouth fell open. “Why would you do such a thing without asking me?”

“When I offered to increase your wages, you flatly refused, and several times you’ve mentioned that you don’t want any charity. I thought the only way I could help was to do it anonymously.”

Bev’s body trembled as she fought for control. How dare this man go behind her back! “Please take the tree and the wreath to your own home. I’ll speak to Mr. Dawson in the morning about the rent.”

“Does that mean you won’t accept any of my gifts?”

She shook her head as tears pooled in her eyes.

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Bev.”

She made no reply.

“I–I’d better get going.” Dan turned for the door. “I hope I’ll see you at the store tomorrow.”

As much as she was tempted to quit working at Twice Loved, Bev knew it would be difficult to find another job. Besides, she enjoyed the work she did there. “I’ll make sure I’m on time,” she mumbled.

The following morning, Bev found it difficult to concentrate on her work. Last night, she and Amy had decorated their tree, and she’d lain awake for hours thinking about Dan and the gifts he’d given her in secret. She had lost her temper and hadn’t shown any appreciation for his thoughtfulness.
I need to apologize, but he also has to understand that I won’t accept his charity
.

She glanced around the store. Christmas was only a few days away, and most of the toys had been picked over. Most that were left needed repair. She’d been too busy with customers to get more mending done. She was also behind on the bookwork and wanted to finish that before the week was out. It was time to get busy and quit thinking about Dan.

Since there were no customers at the moment, Bev decided to start with the book work. She seated herself at the desk, opened the drawer, and reached for the ledger, prepared to record the previous day’s receipts.

Near the back of the drawer, she discovered a folded slip of paper. Funny, she’d never noticed it before. Curious, she unfolded the paper and silently read the words.

One thing I have learned since I was diagnosed with leukemia is not to worry about things I can’t change. Every day God gives me is like a special gift, and I am
putting my trust in Him. I’ve also learned to accept help whenever it’s offered. I used to be too proud to ask for assistance, thinking I could do everything in my own strength. But since I became sick, I have no choice except to rely on others. Dan has been especially helpful, often setting his own needs aside for mine. I know he would rather be in his photography studio than at the toy store, yet he works here without complaint
.

Bev blinked away tears. Dan’s late wife had obviously written the note before she’d become too ill to be at the store, but for whom was it intended? Perhaps it was a letter to a friend or family member and Darcy had forgotten to mail it.

The poor woman had been through more than Bev could imagine, yet Bev realized Darcy had kept a positive, thankful attitude despite her ill health. She’d learned not to worry and had been willing to accept help, two areas in which Bev often struggled.

She realized, too, that Dan had only been trying to help when he’d given money toward her rent and purchased the tree and wreath. Even so, she didn’t want to feel beholden to a man who only saw her as his employee—a man who was still in love with his wife and might never be ready for a relationship with another woman. Too bad she hadn’t been able to keep from falling in love with him.

Dan stared at Darcy’s Bible lying on his desk. He’d discovered it in the bottom drawer of their dresser this morning and felt compelled to bring it to work with him. Maybe it was because Christmas was fast approaching and he needed the comfort of having something near that belonged to his wife. This was Darcy’s favorite time of the year, and every Christmas carol he heard on the radio, every decorated tree he saw in a window, and each Christmas shopper who came into the toy store reminded him of her.

Dan leaned forward and closed his eyes.
Help me, Lord. Help me not to forget my sweet Darcy
.

He had been fighting his attraction to Bev ever since she came into the store looking for a doll for her daughter, yet he hadn’t succumbed to the temptation of telling her how he felt. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to his wife’s memory.

Dan opened his eyes and randomly turned the pages of Darcy’s Bible. To his surprise, an envelope fell out, and he saw that it was addressed to him. With trembling fingers, he tore open the flap and removed the piece of paper.

My Dearest Dan
,

If you’re reading this letter, then I have passed from this world into the next. One thing you can be sure of is that I’m no longer in pain. Take comfort in knowing I am healed and in my Savior’s arms
.

Dan’s throat constricted as he tried to imagine his precious wife running through the streets of heaven, whole and at peace. With a need to know what else she had written, he read on.

My greatest concern is that you will continue to grieve after I’m gone, when you should be moving on with your life. You’re a wonderful Christian man who has so much love and compassion to give. Please don’t spend excessive time mourning for me. Praise God that I’m happy, and ask Him to bring joy into your life again
.

Just as you and I have shared the love of Jesus with others, I pray you will continue to do the same—not only through what we’ve done at Twice Loved but in your personal relationships
.

It’s my prayer that God will bring you a special Christian lady, because I know you will be the same wonderful husband to her as you have been to me
.

As you know, I always wanted to give you children, and I pray the Lord will bless you and your new wife with a family. Please know that by loving and being loved in return you will be honoring my wishes
.

May God richly bless you in the days to come
.

All my love,
Darcy

Tears welled up in Dan’s eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. Darcy’s letter was like healing balm, given at just the right time. He realized now that Darcy wanted him to be happy and to find love again. But could he find it with Bev? Was she the one God meant for him? If so, then he had some fences to mend.

Dan reached for the telephone. “First things first.”

“Family Life Magazine,”
a woman answered on the second ring.

“May I speak to Pete Mackey?”

“One moment, please, and I’ll see if he’s in.”

There was a brief pause, then, “Mackey here.”

“Pete, this is Dan Fisher, with Fisher Photography.”

“Ah yes, I remember. How are you, Dan?”

“I’m doing okay. Listen, Pete, I was wondering if you’re still interested in interviewing me for that article you’re writing on grief.”