do my best,” Lace promised. “’Night, Rae.”
“’Night, Lace.”
Rae wished she had brought her jacket. It was late afternoon. The breeze coming up from the lake made it cool in the shade. She had hiked to the highest point near the cabin, a hill that let her look out over the water. They had been at the cabin for three days, and the slow, easy pace had taken away a sense of strain that she had not been aware she was carrying.
God, You know what Psalm 37 says. Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. I feel like that promise got broken.
The prayer was a soft one. Rae settled back against the trunk of a tree and watched the water.
…the desires of your heart… That’s what she felt had been taken from her with Leo’s death. She’d had a relationship with him, a deep one, a relationship that had been heading somewhere. Leo knew her, inside, where she rarely let many people in.
God, why did You rip away what was the desire of my heart?
She tilted her head back and watched puffy clouds drift across the blue sky. For the first time in over a year, she felt a sense of peace settle inside.
“What’s wrong? You’re frowning.”
A cold soda appeared at her elbow. Rae looked up from her laptop. James had begun to join her most afternoons on the patio, and while she would not admit it to Lace, she had begun to look forward to his company.
“I think I need to rewrite chapter eighteen.”
“Rae, the story is fine.” He’d been up until 2:00 a.m. reading the manuscript. It was more than fine, it was wonderful. She just needed the courage to finish it.
“I think it’s slow.”
He pulled over a chair. “Give me the printout. Let me see.”
She shifted the book holding down the manuscript pages and gave him the last four chapters. She gratefully drank the soda as she watched him read.
It was odd, how far their relationship had come in five days. She’d never expected to be so comfortable around him. She’d relaxed, and he’d turned into a very good friend.
“Read it again without page 314, I bet that’s what you’re sensing is wrong.”
She paged back and forth in the on-line text. “That’s it. It’s too technical.”
He picked up his own drink. “I want an autographed copy when it’s published.”
“James, it may never get finished, let alone find a publisher.”
He smiled. “You’ll finish it. You’ve got, what, another five hundred pages to go?”
She laughed. “Trust me to choose a big story to tell.”
“I like the fact you think big.”
She blinked. Smiled. “The kids catching any fish?”
“Emily’s got six and Dave’s only caught two. Emily’s decided it is time to start giving him pointers, he’s letting the team down.”
Rae laughed. “How are Lace and Tom doing?”
“Scheming. They disappeared about an hour ago for what Tom called a ‘super-duper’ spot.”
“That sounds like Tom. Got the time? Patricia asked to be woken up at four.”
He glanced at his watch. “She’s got another half hour.”
“She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
James grinned. “I sure think so. She was eating pickles for breakfast this morning.”
He leaned back in his chair to pick up the book on the lounge chair that Rae had been reading that morning. Richard Foster’s book on prayer. He liked her reading selection. “Is this one good?”
“Very.”
“Bookstores and hot fudge sundaes were the two things I missed most about the States.”
“I don’t imagine the vanilla ice cream in Africa is the same as a Dairy Queen here.”
“Didn’t even come close. Want to ride to town with me to find some good ice cream?”
His offer caught her off guard.
Interesting…she looked like a doe caught in a car’s headlights. “I promised Tom a banana split for having thrown a perfect spiral,” he said gently. He’d just walked into something that caused her pain and he had no idea what it was.
“I think I’ll pass.”
There was the clatter of feet and the sound of laughter from the front porch. James squeezed her shoulder gently before walking inside to meet the fishing champs.
Several hours later, James carefully set the sack he held down on the kitchen counter. He flexed his wrist which had threatened to drop the package. The rest was helping, but he had such a long way to go before his body recovered. The only thing predictable was the pain. He would be so grateful to be able to do normal tasks like carry in the groceries without having to think about them first. Tom had disappeared down to the pavilion.
“Thank you, James,” his sister said, walking in behind him. “I didn’t mean to leave you with the groceries to carry in.”
“It was three bags, Patricia,” he said ruefully; the pain made it feel like thirty. “How’s Emily’s hand?”
“It’s barely a scratch. A Band-Aid fixed it.” She started putting away the groceries. “Since we’ve got cornmeal, should I deep-fry the fish as well as make hush puppies?”
“Most of the fish are bluegills—they are going to dress as popcorn pieces, so I would plan to deep-fry them. Do we have some newspaper we can use?”
“Under the sink, there’s a stash just for cleaning fish.”
James found them. “Thanks.”
He glanced around as he left the cabin, then walked down to join Dave and Lace and the kids where they were preparing to clean the fish they had caught that afternoon. Rae was nowhere in sight.
It bothered him that he’d upset her with his earlier invitation to get ice cream. He had unintentionally touched a raw memory, and he needed to know that she was okay.
She’d been disappearing occasionally, taking some long walks. Hopefully, that was where she had headed this time.
She was getting her endurance back; she had made it to the top of the trail without being so out of breath she felt ready to collapse. Rae settled on the big rock that made a comfortable perch from which she could see most of the sandy stretch of beach. She had forty minutes before dinner, and had decided to take advantage of the time. She thought best when she hiked.
James’s
