Kaleidoscope Eyes (32 page)

“So … ” He swallowed hard, punching the pillow. “That’s it. The whole ugly story.” He bent the pillow in half. “But the thing is, it didn’t work out the way I planned.”

His mom’s clear gaze pinned him. “Really.”

“Annie’s just, well—” he waved the pillow by the fringe—“she’s so different from what I expected. Watching her, talking with her, there’s something unique about her. Something really special. And when she’s working with Kodi … ”

Good grief! Was he going to cry? What was
wrong
with him? He shook off the emotions and shoehorned the words from his tight throat. “I don’t know, they make me smile, Mom. Like I haven’t done in years.” He plucked at the pillow again. “Then there’s that family of hers. They talk about God so freely, like—” he tossed the pillow in the air—“He’s just a natural part of their lives.”

“He probably is.” She leaned forward, and with a speed that took him unawares, her hand shot out to snag the pillow and jerk
it away from him. She set it on her lap, smoothing it. “It’s like that for lots of folks.”

Jed laid his hand over hers, where it rested on the abused pillow “I know, Mom. And I know I’ve acted like a jerk about … things.”

He crossed his fingers, hoping she’d let it go at that. No such luck.

“Things?”

He drew a deep breath. “About the whole mess with Dad. I know it wasn’t your fault. And—” his gaze moved to the man sitting beside her—“about you, Amos.” Jed wanted to look away, but he didn’t let himself. “I was too angry to see how unhappy you were with Dad, how much he hurt you. And to see how great Amos is.” He shook the roughness from his voice. “Amos, I’ve never seen a man act with such love before. You treat Mom like she’s the most precious thing in your life.”

His stepfather was having his own trouble getting words out. “Because she is, son.”

Jed gripped it like a life preserver keeping him afloat in surging waves of regret and self-recrimination.

“You deserve a husband who loves you like that. I’m just sorry it took me this long to see that. And I’m sorry I acted the way I did about your faith, Amos. You never really tried to shove it down my throat. You just … ”

Jed finally looked away. He wasn’t sure he could say this, no matter how true it was. But he had to get it out. Had to let them know For their sakes. And for his own. “You were just trying to love me too. To be the dad I never had.”

His mother’s hand cupped his face, and she lifted his gaze to meet her own. “Thank you, Jed.”

“Mom … I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right, dear. We understand. And so does God. He knows us, inside and out. Nothing about us surprises Him. Not our weaknesses, not our stubbornness. We don’t have to earn His acceptance. He accepts us as we are. Thank heaven.”

Even with all the regret and guilt chasing through him, he smiled. “You and Annie are so much alike. I think you’d really like each other. You both share such faith—and it stands no matter what. Believe it or not, I remember how that felt, those first days when I had the sense that God’s hand was on my shoulder.”

His mom’s eyes shone. “It always has been, dear.”

“I can’t say I understand faith the way you two do, and yet … ”

“You’d like to.”

He nodded.

“Which must have made it even harder to spend all this time talking with Annie about these kinds of things—”

He knew where she was headed. “Faith and God and truth—”

“All the while knowing you were living a lie.”

What could he say? Oh, he’d tried to dress it up, but there was no denying the obvious.

Except … “Not all of it was a lie.”

Amos and his mom waited as he sorted through his thoughts. “My feelings for Annie. Those aren’t a lie. They’re as true as it gets.”

“What are your feelings for her?”

Oh, man. Was he really going to say this out loud? “I care about her, Mom.” The truth of that simple statement speared him, sending regret slicing deep. “I really do. I care about her more every day.”

Joy lit his mother’s features. “Oh, Jed, that’s wonderful.”

“No.” He closed his eyes. “No, it’s not. It’s terrible.” Misery pried Jed’s eyes open, and he bolted out of his chair, pacing as words poured out of him in a tormented torrent. “What have I done? I mean, how do I tell Annie what I feel, how much she means to me, without telling her who I really am? And if I do that, I have to tell her why I really came back to town. And then there’s Silas and that stupid clip I sent. How can I let him down when he’s done so much for me, believed in me all these years? And it’s not just me, Mom. I could end up hurting his reputation. How can I have
that
on my conscience—not like there’s much space left there considering everything
else
I’ve messed up.”

Amos rose and put a solid hand on Jed’s shoulder, bringing him to a halt. “Sit down, son.”

He didn’t even argue. He just plopped into the chair. “I just … I don’t know. I wish none of it had happened.”

His mother considered that. “You wish you hadn’t met Annie?”

Jed stilled. No. He couldn’t say he wished that.

His mother must have read his answer in his expression, because she patted the back of his hand, an action equal parts comfort and reprimand. “I’m proud of you, Jediah.”

His mouth fell open. “You’re … what?”

The coiners of her mouth lifted. “I’m proud of you. It isn’t easy to admit you’re wrong. Even harder to take the steps to make things right.”

Jed glanced at Amos, whose steady gaze calmed him. “This won’t be easy, son. You know that.”

Did he ever.

His mother let go of Jed and lifted her coffee cup to take a sip. “Just do what’s right, dear. God will take care of the rest.”

Jed marveled at the woman sitting next to him. “How do you do that, Mom?”

“Do what?”

“How do you listen to your only child spill his guts, telling you the awful things he’s done? If I were in your shoes, I’d be so disappointed. But here you sit, and all I sense from you is acceptance. Compassion.” He halted. This was getting ridiculous. He wasn’t the kind of guy who got choked up. Ever. But ever since the day Ken was killed, he’d felt like some kind of emotional basket case.

Like right now. He couldn’t even get a sentence out without wanting to lay his head in his mother’s lap and weep.

When he finally could speak again, his voice was rough. “Such
love.”

At his mom’s silence, he looked up. Tears glistened in her eyes. She tried to speak but couldn’t.

Maybe it was genetic.

Amos slid his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned her head against him. Jed understood. She drew strength from his love.

Finally she straightened, her shrug elegant in its eloquence. “‘My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen—’” she squeezed his hand—“‘my crown is called content, a crown that seldom kings enjoy.’”

“King Henry VI”
he whispered. “Act 3, scene 1.”

Her smile was a benediction.

Jed didn’t need to ask the source of her contentment. He recognized it as the same source that made Annie all she was.

The same Source that had been hounding him since he left home all those years ago.

And while he wasn’t ready to give in yet, sitting here in a companionable silence with his mother and stepdad, Jed realized something.

He hadn’t been the one planting seeds at all.

Rather, he’d been the soil. And right now, he felt rototilled, fertilized, and planted. And unless he missed his guess, the seeds were taking root. Because every day brought an increasing awareness that something was missing in his life. Something he’d abandoned.

Something he wanted back.

“Are you all right, Jed?”

A mere week ago, Amos’s concern would have been an intrusion. Now Jed welcomed it.

“I will be. I know what I need to do.”

“You’ve made some very positive steps already.” Jed’s mom looked from him to Amos, and the joy on her face told him he’d been right to do this. To open the door not only to her, but to the man who’d made her so happy. “So what will you do now?”

Jed thought for a moment. “As I see it, I’ve got a couple of steps to take. First, I need to deal with the show. I should be able
to get a flight back to LA first thing tomorrow.” He sighed. “Silas is going to kill me.”

“Could you lose your job?”

“Maybe, but I can’t worry about that. I need to put things right. No matter what happens.”

“And the second step?”

His mom nudged Amos with her elbow. “I’m betting that has to do with a certain beautiful artist we know.”

Amos waggled those bushy brows. “Ah, you mean the woman with a soft spot for lost people and big black dogs?”

“And, God willing, for our boy.”

His mother’s tender words warmed him, even as apprehension tightened his chest. Yes, it would be great if God was willing. Because Jed had a terrible feeling that once Annie found out what he’d done,
she’d
be willing to do one thing, and one thing only.

Forget Jed Curry ever existed.

THIRTY-FOUR        

O
CTOBER
13

1:30 p.m.

“Bree?”

She bolted upright, eyes blinking in the bright sunlight. A hand touched her arm even as Mark’s voice enfolded her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She blinked, reality sinking in. She was stretched out on the sleeping bag inside their tent; Mark was crouching beside her. Slow contentment eased across her lips, and she stretched her arms over her head. “Oh, wow. I guess I fell asleep, huh?”

Mark stroked her arm, his fingers feather light on her skin. “I told you a weekend in the mountains would help you relax.”

“Hmm.” She batted at him. “Don’t sound so pleased with yourself.”

“Hey, can I help it if I’m brilliant?”

“Yeah, that’s you. A regular Albert Einstein.” She sat up on the sleeping bag. “As evidenced by the fact that you married me.”

“No argument from me on that one.” Laughter danced in his dark eyes.

Brianna glanced around. “Where’s Amberly?”

“Probably over at the next tent, with Jane and Ernie.”

She shook the remnants of sleep from her head and pushed to her feet. “Did you see them when you got back?”

He stood beside her, uncertainty perched on his brow. “No. You know, I don’t think anyone was there.” At her start, he touched her arm. “Don’t worry, hon. Remember Ernie said he’d promised to take Ethan and Jane fishing a little later today I bet she wandered over there and begged to go with them. You know Amberly.”

Bree did indeed. Her daughter was shameless when it came to spending time with Ethan. Not even having to put a worm on a hook would have dissuaded her.

Brianna made her way out of the tent, glancing to the next campsite as she did. Mark was right. It didn’t look like anyone was there. Still, it couldn’t hurt to take a look. She lifted her face to the slight breeze as she walked. There was nothing like autumn in the Oregon mountains. Evergreens towered over them, their draping branches granting shade from the still warm sun. Deciduous trees dotted here and there, providing an explosion of color in the midst of the rich fir and pine greens. Temperatures were slightly warm during the day to cool—and even cold—at night. And the night sky … it was glorious. Stars shone in the cloudless sky, a cascade of heavenly lights, and the clear air seemed to carry every heady scent of evergreen and flowers right to their campsite.

Brianna loved it here. Almost as much as Amberly did. She chuckled. Amberly’s love affair with the woods and nature was showing no signs of waning. It was great to see her daughter appreciate nature the way she always had, but still, sometimes it made her nervous. She couldn’t count the times she’d had to stop her
little explorer from following some wonder out of the campsite.

Good thing Jane and Ernie were here to watch Amberly when Brianna fell asleep.

But they didn’t know they were supposed to watch her You didn’t tell them you were going to take a nap, remember?

The dark thought quickened Brianna’s pace, but when she reached the Conrads’ campsite, one glance told her it was empty. As she stood there, looking around, apprehension nibbled at her gut. They
had
taken Amberly with them, hadn’t they?

“Hey, Bree. What’s up?”

Relief weakened her knees as she turned and watched Jane and Ernie traipse up the path toward her, fishing poles in their hands. So Mark was right.

“Lookit, Bree!”

She just managed to avoid getting hit with the fish hanging from Ethan’s small hand. His freckled face was smudged with dirt and wreathed in pride. “I caught it all by myself.”