After the Rains (27 page)

Without breaking stride, she slid the bag off her shoulder and rummaged through it, searching for the phone. It was probably Evan. He had invited her to go with him to a film in the student union tonight. She was
tired, and she had a ton of homework, but she’d probably go. It had been a few days since they’d been able to spend any time together, and she missed him.

She pressed a button on the face of the trim phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, Nattie!” her sister’s voice chirped. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to answer.”

“Oh, hey, Nikki. What’s up?”

It had been good to have her sister on the same campus this year, although the two sometimes went for days without running into each other.

“Where are you, Nattie? Right this minute.”

There was a peculiar tone in her sister’s voice.

“Why?” Natalie asked. “What’s going on?”

Nicole giggled. “Just tell me where you are,” she insisted.

Natalie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She turned three hundred and sixty degrees on the walkway, as though she might see Nicole lurking behind one of the huge oak trees on the lawn. “I just—left the library. I’m on my way back to the dorm. What is going on? Where are
you?
” she persisted.

“I’m just leaving Ford. Just keep heading this way. I’ll meet you halfway.”

“Nikki! What—”

The phone clicked and went dead.

Quickening her pace, Natalie headed north, her mind reeling with possibilities. Had something happened at home? But no, whatever it was must be good news. Nicole had definitely seemed happy and excited, not worried or upset.

A few minutes later, she spotted her sister walking—no, trotting—toward her on the walk. “Hey! What’s up?” she yelled, lengthening her stride.

Nicole ran the last few steps, closing the distance between them, and almost bowled Natalie over with a bear hug.

Natalie struggled to get out of her clutch. “Nicole Hunter, if you don’t tell me what is going on this very second, I’m going to strangle you!”

Nicole released her, laughing joyously. She backed away a bit and held out her left hand. “Oh, Nattie, look.” Just as suddenly as she had laughed, tears sprang to her eyes.

A glint caught Natalie’s eye, and she grabbed her sister’s hand. An expensive-looking diamond solitaire glittered on her sister’s ring finger. “Nikki!” she shrieked. “You got your ring!”

“Jon gave it to me for my birthday,” she beamed.

Natalie pulled her sister into a hug again. “I can’t believe it. You’re engaged? Oh, Nikki— Hey, wait a minute,” she protested good-naturedly, “Your birthday’s not until April.”

“Jon couldn’t wait.” Nicole grinned. “He picked it up this morning and officially proposed over lunch at Applebee’s.”

Natalie gave her sister another squeeze, genuinely happy for her. “Oh, Nikki, I can hardly believe it. My little sister, soon to be a married woman. Have you set a date?”

“Over Christmas,” Nicole said.

“Really? Have you told Mom and Dad yet?”

“No. I haven’t told anybody. You’re the first.”

Natalie felt tears well unexpectedly behind her eyelids. “Oh, I am so happy for you.”

They started back toward the dorm together, chattering like the squirrels that played on the telephone wires overhead.

“Can I tell Evan?” Natalie asked, before they parted ways in the lobby of the dorm.

“You can tell the whole world as far as I’m concerned. Well, wait … better tell him not to say anything until I call Mom and Daddy and Noelle.” Nicole cocked her head and eyed Natalie. “I bet you’ll be next, Nattie. I bet you and Evan will be following us down the aisle.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Natalie held up a hand, palm out. “Slow down there, sister. I don’t think so.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” Nicole said, a lilt in her voice and a teasing gleam in her gold-flecked brown eyes.

“No, Nikki, I’m serious.” She shook her head vigorously. She didn’t want any rumors starting. “We haven’t even discussed the subject.”

The doors to the elevator glided closed, and if Nicole responded it was lost in the soft hum of the conveyance’s motor.

Natalie took the stairs to her floor two at a time, her mind racing. So Nicole was getting married. Not that she was surprised by the news. Everyone had always known that Jon and Nicole would end up married. But this was sooner than she’d expected.

She wondered what it would be like for Jon to be officially a part of their family—present at every Thanksgiving table, every Christmas gathering. Would he find it easier to forgive her when she was his sister-in-law? Or would she be an even harsher reminder of the true sister he’d lost?
Oh, Father, will the pain ever stop? Will every good thing that happens always be ruined by memories of what I did?
She stopped short, realizing how self-centered she was being.
Help me be happy for Nicole
.

She thought about what Nicole had said about her being next. Did she dare to dream that she might someday know the same kind of happiness that Nicole had found with Jon? Could Nicole be right? Was Evan part of the future God had in mind for her?

Twenty–Three

T
he strains of Lohengrin’s “Bridal Chorus” filled the sanctuary. From her place beside the other bridesmaids at the front of the church, Natalie watched her sister come down the aisle on Daddy’s arm. Nicole Hunter’s smile, the beatific glow on her face, said it all. This was the fulfillment of her dreams, the thing she had desired above all things since she and Jon Dever had fallen in love as young teenagers.

Natalie stole a furtive glance at Jon, who stood soldier-stiff at the helm of the contingent of groomsmen. He was as handsome as ever, and there was no mistaking the love in his eyes as he watched his bride walk slowly toward him.

For a brief instant, old feelings welled up inside Natalie—the ache of longing for what might have been, the niggling pangs of jealousy at seeing one of her sisters get all the attention. When she was thinking rationally, she could recognize the feelings for what they were: vestiges of her first innocent crush and remnants of the insecurities that had plagued her for too much of her childhood.

And regret. She would probably always feel a twinge of regret for what could never be changed. But relics though they were, the emotions still stung sometimes—especially on a day like today.
Sara
. Sara Dever should have been standing here beside her. Oh, how tender Sara’s memory was on this day. Natalie could look out at the wedding guests and see it in the faces of Sara’s parents—Maribeth’s valiant effort at a joyful demeanor betrayed by the missing sparkle in her eyes. Don’s furrowed forehead, and hair gone gray too early, gave him away. And everywhere she looked, friends of Sara. People who would never again be graced with the gift of Sara’s sweet smile or the joy of her laughter. And all of them knowing full well Natalie’s part in their loss.
I’m so sorry, Sara
.

She shook off the mounting accusations and sought out Evan’s face in the congregation. She found him, gazing at her with the same fervor in his
eyes that she saw in Jon’s when he looked at Nicole.
Oh, Evan. I don’t know if I can ever be worthy of that gaze, ever deserve such love
.

She was halfway through college now—finally the adult she’d always longed to be. So why did she still so often feel like a confused little girl who didn’t know what she wanted from life?

Nicole reached the foot of the altar, and Daddy placed her hand in Jon’s. Natalie could read in the tension of her father’s jaw that his emotions were close to the surface. She couldn’t help but wonder what she would see on his face on
her
wedding day.
Probably relief
, she smiled to herself.

When the pastor asked, “Who gives this woman in holy matrimony?” Daddy answered in a quavering voice, “Her mother and I.” Nicole and Jon presented red roses to each of their mothers and laid a pink rose on the altar in memory of Sara. Then Natalie turned with the rest of the wedding party to face the altar as Jon and Nicole ascended the platform. Nicole offered her a bright smile as she relinquished her bridal bouquet to Natalie for safekeeping while they exchanged their vows. Natalie returned the smile and forced herself to focus on the present, to celebrate this most consecrated day in her sister’s life.

In voices that were strong and sure, Jon Dever and Nicole Hunter promised to love, honor, and cherish each other until death parted them. And as the last notes of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” floated away, and Natalie took the arm of the best man to follow her sister and new brother-in-law down the aisle and out of the church, she compelled her saddened heart into submission, surrendering up a prayer of gratitude.

She caught Evan’s eye once more, and the smile that upturned the corners of her mouth was true, the light that twinkled in her eyes genuine.

Daria Hunter balanced on the top rung of the stepladder and paused to wipe beads of perspiration from her forehead. She blew a wayward strand of hair from her eyes and took another box down from the top shelf of the big walk-in closet in their bedroom. How in the world had they managed to accumulate so much junk in the few short years they’d lived here? She corrected herself. The years had been short, but not so few.

Holding a stack of dusty shoeboxes in the crook of one arm, she climbed down the ladder and took them out into the bedroom and stacked them on the end of the bed. Blowing a cloud of dust off the lid, she opened the first one. Peeling away a layer of brittle tissue paper, she smiled as she recognized the low-heeled pumps she’d worn at her wedding to Cole. The ivory satin was yellowed with age, and the shoes were hopelessly out of style. She rewrapped each shoe carefully and nestled them back in the box.

Two decades had passed since the day Cole had carried her over the threshold of this farmhouse on their wedding day. Oh, how time had stolen away those years. But they’d been given many happy memories in return.

A tear slid down her cheek, and she felt guilty for feeling gloomy when there was so much for which to be joyful. Nicole and Jon were married and due home from their honeymoon at the end of the week. Noelle was halfway through her senior year of high school. And Natalie
—oh, dearest Natalie
—finally seemed to be healing from the wounds of her youth. Her eldest daughter still had another week of Christmas break before beginning the second semester of her third year at the university. Their time with her had been a treasure.

Yes, it had been a wonderful winter. Filled with emotion and impending goodbyes, but wonderful all the same.

Daria put the wedding shoes in the pile designated for the church’s rummage sale. One couldn’t save
everything
. She opened the next box.

The sight of the cassette tapes and newspaper clippings caused her heart to leap. Keepsakes of Nate. The memories came crashing back, as clear as if they had happened yesterday. And yet, somehow the things that had happened to them—to her and Nate and Cole—seemed at the same time surreal.

Picking up one of the audiocassettes, she read the label.
Timoné—Language
. How well she remembered the day these tapes had come back to her in the mail. She had been in love with Cole, trying to get over Nate, believing him to be dead. Unable to bear listening to them, she had packed them all into this box, save one that she set aside for when Natalie
grew up. She had shipped them off to the old missionary woman who had served in Timoné before them, to be forwarded to the mission headquarters, in hopes that they would be of help to the next missionaries Gospel Vision might send to Timoné. Someone had copied the tapes and returned the originals to her with a warm note of gratitude.

Only one time in the ensuing years had she gotten this box down from the closet. Only one time had she played one of the recordings. It had probably been a dozen years ago now. She sighed, replaying the memory in her mind.

Cole’s partner, Travis Carruthers, had decided to strike out on his own, leaving Cole to work eighty-hour weeks. Daria had gone back to work at the clinic, but she deeply resented having to leave their three little girls in childcare. The stress of those months had precipitated a severe crisis in their marriage. One night she and Cole had had a huge argument. In the midst of it, he stormed out of the house, leaving her so angry she was shaking.

She had gone up to bed, but she couldn’t sleep. She crawled out of bed and, in an effort to burn some of the anger that was still raging inside her, she’d started cleaning this very closet. As she pulled things from the shelves, she made a mental list of Cole’s faults. She had crucified him in her mind that night, and to make matters worse, at her most vulnerable moment, she had come across Nate’s tapes hidden away in the closet. As the recording played, she had deliberately allowed her love for Nathan Camfield to be resurrected. Listening to his strong, sure voice, she remembered only the sweetness of first love, recalled only Nate’s admirable qualities. And in the space of an hour she had believed that life with Nate would have been perfect. She compared the two men to whom she had pledged her love, and in her mind Cole came up so pitifully short that she wondered if she could ever again find the love she’d once felt for him.