Love Remains (42 page)
“Sorry. Just got a text from Flan. Want to go grab a bite to eat?”
“Sure. How about DaVinci’s Pizza over on Hayes? I’ve been craving their blue cheese and spinach pizza recently.” Probably because she’d had a few slices of it when she’d taken the interns over there for lunch on Friday.
“Sounds good. Are you getting ready to leave the office?”
She glanced at her watch. “Yeah. It’s only four thirty, but everyone else left at noon today. So I’ll lock up and head on over there.”
“Okay. I’ll text Flan to let her know.”
The local pizzeria, nearly empty when Zarah arrived, filled up pretty quickly as people left work at the nearby hospitals and office buildings, surprising for the evening before Thanksgiving.
They demolished the large pizza in short order, then each ordered dessert—Snickers pies all the way around.
“You realize,” Caylor said around a mouthful of candy bar bits, caramel, cream cheese, and piecrust, “that we’re ruining our appetites for desserts Friday.”
“Not hardly.” Zarah licked a smear of caramel off the back of her spoon before plunging it back into the sticky pie. “I have never met a slice of lemonade icebox pie I couldn’t eat. And I have two of them in my freezer, just waiting for us.”
Flannery’s phone beeped. Zarah and Caylor looked at each other, shook their heads, and rolled their eyes. She read whatever message it was and then—to their complete and utter astonishment—turned the phone off and dropped it into her purse.
“I told everyone I was taking the rest of the weekend off, that I would be out of touch until Monday morning.” Flannery dived back into her pie with gusto.
Zarah dropped her spoon and applauded. “Good for you. And I’m sure your grandfather and parents will appreciate it, too.”
Caylor harrumphed. “I think everyone driving between here and Birmingham tonight will appreciate it.”
“Hey, I’ve been hands-free with the phone ever since I got the new car.”
“Yeah, because you needed a car that doubles as a phone.” Caylor winked at her.
“Well…” Flannery wiped her mouth and tossed the napkin on the table. “It’s almost seven, so I’d better be hitting the road—I told Big Daddy I’d be at his place by seven thirty to pick him up.”
“He doesn’t mind traveling so late?”
“He didn’t have much of a choice—the church decided not to move their Wednesday services to Tuesday this week, so he had to be there to conduct prayer meeting.”
“I thought he was supposed to retire this past summer.”
“They asked him to stay until they found a replacement.” Flannery dug in her huge bag and came out with some cash. “I think he’s finally realized that until he tells them what his last day is, they’re not going to start seriously looking for another pastor.”
Caylor took Flannery’s cash, added her own to it, and stuck it in the bill folder. Zarah added hers as well, and they donned jackets and headed out to their cars.
“Drive safely.” Zarah hugged Flannery.
“You know I will.” She hugged Zarah and Caylor. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
They echoed the sentiment.
After a quick stop at a drugstore to pick up batteries for her digital camera, Zarah headed home.
She glanced at the dark front porch. “I’ve got to start remembering to turn that light on.”
But at least the living room light was on.
Wait—she never left lights on inside when she left the house. Maybe she’d just forgotten. She stuck the pack of batteries into her carryall and hefted it out of the front passenger seat, finding her house key before getting out of the car so she didn’t have to fumble for it in the dark overhang of the small front porch while loaded down with the briefcase and the gift bag containing the portrait.
As soon as she touched the key to the dead bolt, the door moved.
Her heart leaped into her throat. A light on inside, the front door not latched. Something wasn’t right here.
She ran back to the car as quietly as she could, got in, and locked the door.
Trembling, she yanked her phone out of its pocket in the bag and called the one and only person she could think of.
“Zarah?”
“Bobby—I think someone’s broken into my house.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded shrill.
“Are you there, right now? You aren’t in the house, are you?” The smooth calmness in Bobby’s voice soothed her raw nerves.
“No—the door is unlatched and there’s a light on inside. I’m sitting in my car with the doors locked.”
“Do you see any unfamiliar cars?”
She jerked around, looking side to side and behind her. “No. I recognize all of my neighbor’s cars.”
“Okay, if it is a break-in, they probably aren’t there anymore. I’m in my car right now. I’ll be there in less than five minutes. You just sit tight. Don’t get out of your car until I get there, okay? Promise me.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not budging.”
“Good. Now. Tell me about your day.”
As a tactic to both calm her down and keep her on the phone until he drove up, it worked. She was just getting to the Snickers pie when headlights flashed in her rearview mirror. Even though she recognized his car, she didn’t unlock her door until she saw him climb out.
They both hung up at the same time. Bobby gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad you called me.”
“You’re the only cop I know.”
“In this context, I guess
cop
works. Now, I want you to get back in the car and lock the door until I come out and give you the all clear, okay?”
She did as told, gripping her cell phone in her hand, ready to click S
EN
on the 911 she’d dialed.
A few long moments later, the front porch light blazed on and Bobby stepped out and motioned her in.
Leaving everything but her keys and phone locked in the car, she joined him on the porch. “Well?”
“You have to see it for yourself.” Bobby pushed the door open and propelled her in with his hand on her back.
She took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. She’d thought she was prepared for whatever she might see.
The sight that faced her knocked the wind out of her. She staggered back—right into Bobby’s solid chest. Rather than a wrecked living room, missing electronics, or vandalism, she beheld a virtual forest of photos.
Hanging from the ceiling from fishing line were dozens, maybe even hundreds, of pieces of paper. Pieces of photo paper on which were printed blown-up snapshots of Zarah and Bobby together.
She walked from picture to picture, joy tingling in every nerve in her body. Their trip to White Sands National Monument. The day they went hiking in Aguirre Springs. The dinner with Phoebe and her boyfriend. The photos they’d taken themselves, just messing around
with Bobby’s camera whenever they were together.
Turning, she found Bobby only a few feet behind her. “You did this?”
He nodded. “I had a little help—from Flannery and Caylor. I gave all the pictures to Flannery, and she spent several hours scanning and printing them for me. Caylor met me over here this afternoon to let me in—and then made sure you wouldn’t come home until everything was ready.”
“Flan and Caylor—they knew about this?” Laughter bubbled up from Zarah’s toes. “The text message Flan got at supper—that was you, wasn’t it?”
“Guilty.” He looked around the room. “I’ve carried the box of these pictures around with me everywhere I’ve been since I left New Mexico. I was so angry over the whole situation, yet I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of them.”
He closed the distance between them, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her.
Zarah wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him with every ounce of longing she’d borne for the past fourteen years.
The kiss ended, but Bobby didn’t let go; neither did Zarah.
“Is it finally over?” she whispered.
“My part is. All that got me through the last week was this—my plans and preparations for tonight.” He finally eased his hold and led her over to the sofa.
Zarah sat. Bobby knelt.
Her heart raced, and even her hair trembled in anticipation of what might be coming next.
“I know we have a lot of work to do on our relationship. We have a lot of years to make up for, a lot of getting reacquainted to do before we can join our lives together. Are you willing to take the time we need to do that?”
She nodded, now uncertain of where this conversation was going. “I’m willing to commit however much time it takes.”
He cleared his throat and tried to smile. “Fourteen and a half years ago, I wanted to ask you a question.” He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “I can’t believe God has given us another chance, but this time, I’m not going to let you get away.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t do anything but look into his eyes.
“Zarah Mitchell, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Unable to speak, she nodded, leaned forward, and kissed him—then grinned at the momentary haziness in his gaze when she pulled back.
He opened the ring box to reveal a beautiful emerald-cut diamond in a platinum setting. Taking her left hand in his, he slipped the ring on her finger. It was a little tight, but she could get it resized.
“Don’t you like it?” Concern edged his voice.
“Oh—I love it.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, then sat back again, looking at how the ring sparkled in the lamplight. “It’s just…I don’t know. I thought…maybe…since you’d bought a ring for me back then…” She shrugged. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
A slow smile spread over his face. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out another, slightly larger jeweler’s box and handed it to her without a word.
Frowning, Zarah opened the box. A gold open-work heart pendant with a small diamond suspended from the top point sparkled and twinkled at her.
“I wanted to give you an engagement ring that represents who we are, the love we rediscovered for each other now.” He moved to sit beside her, took the box, and removed the necklace from it.
Zarah turned her back to him and lifted her hair from her neck.
“I had this pendant made from the ring I bought for you then. I wanted it to serve as a reminder to both of us that no matter what happens, love remains the constant that will see us through it.” He kissed the back of her neck.
Hand covering the pendant—which rested over her own heart—Zarah turned to face him again. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Bobby caressed her cheek.
“For giving me my happy ending.”
Kaye Dacus
is a graduate of Seton Hill University’s Master of Arts in Writing Popular Fiction program. She is an active member and former vice president of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), serving as the online course coordinator. Her
Stand-In Groom
novel took second place in the 2006 ACFW Genesis writing competition. Follow her at
kayedacus.com
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O
THER
B
OOKS BY
K
AYE
D
ACUS
Stand-In Groom
Menu for Romance
A Case for Love
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