Ransomed Dreams (38 page)

N
ot even waiting by Gracie’s front porch swing on a frigid Christmas afternoon could dampen the nervous energy building inside Steven.

He slipped off a leather glove and fingered the small package burning a hole in his pocket. Gracie couldn’t be gone much longer. They’d agreed to exchange gifts this afternoon, well before the big celebration at Dad’s later tonight.

As she came up the street, he could tell the exact moment when she registered his presence on her porch. Jake strained at his leash and helped pull her toward the steps, a little faster than she’d intended to go.

The smile on her face made his heart rate double.

“Hey, there. Aren’t you early? I still have the cooldown part of our walk left.” She gulped in a few quick breaths and bent down to rest her hands on her perfect-fitting jeans.

He stepped closer and ruffled Jake’s head as she straightened. “Want me to walk the last lap with you?”

“That would defeat the cooldown part.”

Steven grinned.

Gracie’s hands covered her mouth as her face glowed crimson. “I said that out loud?”

“Sure did.”

“Then I might as well tell you that I was having a
Top Gun
‘Take My Breath Away’ moment watching you lounge on my front porch.” She stepped into his arms.

He pictured the exact scene, complete with flowing white curtains and Berlin’s female vocals crooning in the background.
But he’d fought similar images in his dreams too often since Gracie’s return.

Today he needed to dismiss them even faster. He was already hovering too close to the danger zone.

Kissing her forehead, he stepped back. “Ready for presents?” He rubbed his hands together.

“How about ‘Merry Christmas’ and a cup of hot cocoa first?” She laughed and unlocked her front door. Then she let Jake off his leash after they’d stepped inside.

He took their coats and hung them in the hall closet while Gracie and Jake disappeared into the kitchen to make hot chocolate.

“Here, let me do that.” He stirred the mixture on the stove as she got out two huge mugs and took a seat at the breakfast bar.

“Is James with your parents?”

“Yep.” He yawned. “We’ve all been up since before the crack of dawn. I think even Hanna is out cold in the guest room now.”

“What about Angela and Marcus? Will they be at your parents’ tonight?”

Dumping a little more milk and another spoonful of sugar into the pan, he shook his head. “Nope. Just family tonight.”

“She is James’s family.”

They’d talked long and detailed about his marriage, his divorce, and forgiving Angela. A recent development Gracie had been very excited to hear.

“My son and I want to spend Christmas with you.”

She cocked her head and smiled.

“Angela will be part of the equation we’ll have to navigate for holidays and vacations. But only after she’s done with rehab, and even then only after we’ve taken some overnights nice and slow.” He filled their mugs with the warm cocoa and plopped in a few marshmallows. “James loves his mom. Their relationship is growing. But we’d still like to spend this special day with you, Gracie.”

“Sounds like a nice dose of heart-chocolate for the holidays.”

He held out his arm to escort her into the den.

She giggled and slipped her hand around his arm just like she’d done on their first date. Good ole Jake was already snoozing on his pallet, completely unaware of anything around him. Gracie turned on her favorite Christmas CD—Steven Curtis Chapman’s
The Music of Christmas
.

She sat on the couch and pulled a Noah’s Ark Christmas afghan up around her shoulders. Only the top of her burgundy cable knit sweater showed. Good thing too. He didn’t need to keep noticing how well everything she wore fit.

“Would you like me to start the fire?”

She nodded. “That would be nice.”

He set about the task of turning Gracie’s white fireplace into the storybook roaring fire right out of
Beauty and the Beast
. Gracie’s favorite movie, he’d recently learned.

The white Christmas lights blinked off and on in a slow, soothing rhythm. He took a seat on the couch and slipped her legs onto his lap. They watched the lights in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I’m curious, Steven …”

“That’s nothing new.”

She sat up and nudged his shoulder. “I’m trying to be serious.”

He smiled and thought about giving her a foot massage, then quickly decided against that. It wasn’t time to get that intimate. Not yet. “Serious is highly overrated.”

“Even so.” She gave him a firm teacher-slash-mom look and leaned back into the couch. “I’ve been thinking about New Year’s Eve.” Her eyes studied the afghan over her legs. “You haven’t mentioned doing anything yet.”

“I wasn’t quite ready to ask.” He drew his leg up onto the couch and turned to face her. “I know it’ll be a hard day for you, and I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to suggest a big party.”

“Probably not. I never liked big parties anyway.” She poked him with her foot. “Go on.”

“I also thought about doing something small and quiet,
maybe a late dinner with a few close friends. Say at Clint and Sara’s house?”

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve already made plans?”

“Because I have.” He took a sip of lukewarm cocoa. Even cold, chocolate tasted good. “Leah and Kevin will be there. Clint and Sara set Michael up with their babysitter. Erica.”

“He agreed? Mr. Hotshot FBI Agent didn’t already have a date?”

Steven shook his head. “Nope. Michael’s been talking to Clint more about stuff and I can see a real difference. The rookie hasn’t had a date since my birthday in September.”

She pursed her lips together. “Long time.”

He shrugged. “He’s never been married. Not having a date for three months is a little different for a reformed single guy.”

“I suppose.” Sitting up, she finished off her chocolate. “Have you been talking to Clint about … stuff?”

“I’m going to start calling you
bulldog
if you keep that up.” He tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

She grabbed his hand and held it. “I just know last time we talked about your forgiving Angela, you still had the biggest thing ahead to look at.”

“Forgiving myself.”

She waited.

Knowing this topic would come up, he should have opted for a velvet pillow for Gracie’s gift. The little box of jewelry continued to dig into his leg, but this wasn’t the time to present it.

“I’ve thought a lot about your choosing to forgive Tom.” He rubbed Gracie’s knuckles with his thumb. “And I decided to let go of my own neck. After Angela and Marcus, it seemed almost natural.”

“But not quite.”

“No. I’ve spent a long time flopping from the end of a perfection hook. A self-inflicted capture.” Laying his head back on the couch, he looked for a long time at the painting over Gracie’s piano. The one of a young boy in a dark wood being guarded by an angel. “I finally understood that forgiving myself was a choice
too. A decision to make, not because I deserved a break, but because God had already paid the price. My guilt payment couldn’t compete with that.”

“It takes time and practice for that choice to impact our knee-jerk feelings.”

Wise words. From a woman he wanted to kiss more than he wanted to breathe.

Gracie must have read his mind. Or his eyes. She said they told far more than his words ever did. She snuggled into his chest and released a long sigh.

“I know you’ll remind me of those wise words,” he whispered into her strawberry-smelling hair. “Often.”

She elbowed him. “Hey, what about my Christmas present? Didn’t we agree to exchange gifts before we went to your parents’ house?”

“We did.” He fingered the jewelry box. “But I think it should be ladies giving first.”

Standing up from the couch, she crossed the den and slid a very large rectangular package wrapped in blue and silver paper from under the tree.

“You bought me six more James Taylor albums and taped them together? That’s awesome.”

She laid the heavy package on his lap.

“So, can I open it now?”

She pushed his knee with her foot.

Ripping and tossing the paper just like James had done with every gift this morning, he stopped and stared at a large, ornately framed painting very similar to the one above Gracie’s piano. Except his picture had a grown man hugging his son. A hallway mirror reflected a younger man holding a baby. The Scripture plate read, “I have loved you with an everlasting love … Jeremiah 31:3.”

The little boy looked just like James. And him.

Blinking his watery eyes, he turned toward Gracie. “It’s beautiful. And perfect.”

“That’s how you’re loved, Steven.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Fiercely and gently at the same time. Wrapped in God’s strong arms.”

“Thank you.” What an awesome daily reminder this painting would be. “Now it’s your turn.” He set the painting on the coffee table. “But you have to close your eyes.” Turning to face her, he put a hand into his pocket.

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

She closed her eyes and harrumphed.

He’d take that as a “yes.” But just in case, he waved his hands in front of her face.

“I’m not peeking. Hurry up, though.”

He placed the gold-wrapped box with a bright red ribbon into her hands, straightening the top bow a little. “You can open your eyes now.”

Sitting with wide eyes, her hands shook a little.

“I hope it’s the right size.”

Her face turned a deep shade of red.

“Think I’ll always be able to make you blush?”

Swallowing hard, she lifted her eyes to search his face. “Probably.”

A wide smile stretched his cheek muscles. “Don’t look so scared. Just open it.”

“I’m not scared.” Slowly, she untied the bow. “Surprised, maybe.”

Moving closer to her side, he tugged on the last of the soft red bow. “But you don’t know what’s inside.”

“That’s why I’m opening it. Hush.” With careful hands, she set aside the gold paper and lifted the small velvet lid. A laugh escaped her lips.

“Do you like it?”

She nodded, two tears slipping down her still rosy cheeks. “It’s beautiful.” She fingered the gold-filigree heart locket. “For new memories?”

“Yes.” He slipped an arm around her shoulder. “I got you, didn’t I?”

She elbowed him. Then turning her back to him, she held up her hair. “Will you fasten it?”

He fastened the clasp and kissed the crook of her neck.

She shivered and turned to face him, drawing in a ragged breath.

He’d waited for this moment for almost a month. And he’d prayed just as long for the control to keep things pure. She was one of the very best things in his life. And worth waiting for, no matter how hard that proved to be.

Wiping the little wet streaks on her face with his thumb, he eased her closer and then rested her head on his chest. The warm fire and soft lights, the scent of Christmas all around, and the feel of her silky hair spilling over his fingers, nearly broke his resolve.

She ran her soft hands over his forearm.

His turn for a ragged breath.

Gracie leaned back and reached her hands around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. Her eyes drew him in and held him still at the same time.

Their lips met softly at first, then deepened into a kiss full of passion and promise. He closed his eyes and pulled back, keeping her pressed against him. Then with only a thin hold on his self-control, he stood them both up beside the couch.

“I think we’d better head over to my parents’ house.”

“You’re a smart man, Steven Kessler. But I hope you won’t wait forever to try your little surprise jewelry gift again. For real, next time.”

Jake barked his agreement.

Steven laughed and smoothed the dog’s fur. When he looked up, a stunning smile filled Gracie’s beautiful face. He would see that smile again. Over and over in his dreams.

“So you want another locket for Christmas next year?”

She threw crumpled wrapping paper at him.

“Okay. Maybe not. How about I try for a bracelet on Saint Patrick’s Day?”

“Oh, you.”

He pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. He would wait for the right moment. But it wouldn’t be next Christmas. Valentine’s Day might work. After all, didn’t diamonds and chocolate go together well?

They put out the fire in the fireplace and then headed to the front door. It’d be a fun night recounting this afternoon to his parents and James.

Watching Gracie blush all over again.

Teasing her about what the future held.

As he helped her into her long coat, he noticed the pocket watch James had given him earlier this morning poking up from his jeans. A soaring eagle decorated the pewter cover. What a perfect picture for Christmas day. A day for dreaming dreams, enjoying family, and soaring high above the clouds.

The infant in the cradle, resting in the shadow of the cross, reminded him to dream big. Soar high. Believe the truth.

Listen.

Steven walked out into the late afternoon’s winter chill with Gracie on his arm. Listen he would. Just like Clint and Gracie had been encouraging him to do all along. Listen and trust the one voice that brought every good dream to life. The Voice of truth.