The Forever Stone (46 page)

Nathan said, “Dan’l told me about muskrat. They’re good eating.”

Jude said he’d tasted one, and Remi looked envious. He begged for an invitation the next time anyone went hunting.

After the meal, no one suggested Monopoly, and Madeleine was grateful, remembering what her aunt had said about ghosts.

Much as she wanted to speak privately with Bria or Jude, she didn’t have an opportunity. They were anxious about Paula, and Remi gave them a ride home, saying he had to go that direction anyway.

Aunt Lin looked at her and Nathan. “Would it be terribly rude if I leave you two with the cleanup? I’ve got some work waiting, and if I start now, I can finish tonight.”

Nathan looked delighted. “Go ahead. Get lots done.”

Such enthusiasm for washing dishes?

As soon as Aunt Lin’s door closed, he put his arms around her. “Great meal,” he said. “You did wonders with my turkey.”

She looked up, and his smile dimmed. “What is it, Mollie?”

“I killed a man. The thought horrifies me.”

He shook his head, and she said, “I’m the one who made the car crash against that tree. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to keep him from getting away. But I killed him just as surely as if I’d shot him.”

He was still shaking his head. “You slowed him down, but you didn’t kill him.”

She waited, disbelieving, and he said, “Kent had two gunshot wounds—one from Dixie, and one from Sid. They weakened him. The collision with the tree broke his leg. He must have realized he couldn’t get away.”

He took her hand. “Kent used his knife to slit his arm, and by the time they got there, it was too late.”

Blood. More blood. Her stomach twisted. “His knife was sharp,” she said, “but it’s not that easy. Not like in the movies.”

“He was precise, and he severed the radial artery.”

“Even if you get an artery, it seals itself up fast.”

“I talked to the pathologist.” His hand went to her shoulder, as if to steady her. “Kent knew the artery would stay open. He had a blood-clotting disorder.”

“Oh.” She remembered the panic on Kent’s face.

“He kept bleeding,” she said slowly. “I had to retie the bandage.” She shuddered. “Nathan, he was psychotic. I saw it, at the end.”

She closed her eyes. That nightmare gone.

“You were right about a bomb at the clinic,” he said. “We found two of them, strategically placed.”

“The Lord protected you too.” Her voice broke with the fear of losing him.

He held her close, letting her compose herself.

Thank You, Lord, for keeping him safe.

For the first time, she put her arms around him, taking delight in his bones and flesh and the sinewy muscles of his back.

He nuzzled into her hair, lingering there, but that was all. He’d been so careful to keep that promise of his,
“not until you ask.”

Perhaps this was the day. It was up to her, he’d said, and they’d never win the war if she didn’t fight. If she bumbled this skirmish, she would try again.

He said, “I have something for you.”

“So have I.”

“You first.”

Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she said, “In the library. I’ll show you.”

He kept her hand in his while they climbed the stairs, and she was glad for the small gesture of support. This was no stranger. This was the Nathan she knew and loved.

Darkness had fallen, so she turned on the lamp beside the couch. A memory loomed in the shadows, a reminder of the last time they’d been here together. She turned her back on it.

He stood by the window. She gazed at him. The few steps between them seemed a vast expanse of ice, and at her feet lay a dangerous chasm.

What was it she’d been going to say?

He smiled. “You wanted to show me . . . ?”

“The view, it’s quite pretty at night with the shadows on the trees and the trees rolling out like . . . like a carpet. That’s it, a sort of carpet, all different colors of green, only you can’t see the greens very well because of the dark, and the stars are nice too, when they come out.”

“It’s a lovely view.” He didn’t turn to look at it.

“Nathan.”

Her hands began to shake. She held onto a corner of the bookshelf. Perhaps she should try this another time.

He gazed at her, his eyes shining.

She took a step and hesitated at the edge of the chasm. Cold. But all she had to do was say the words, and he’d do the rest.

Say it now.

She snatched a breath. “I would like you to kiss me.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “And I would like you to kiss me.”

“You?”

He could have made some clever remark, but he didn’t. He leaned forward. His tenderness swept through her fears and bridged the chasm.

She trembled, but she took one faltering step after another and crossed the ice. She locked her arms around his neck, still trembling. After a minute she could put her hands up to frame his face—dear, familiar territory.

He stood still, as if he dared not breathe. For his sake, too . . .

She brushed his lips with hers, endured a flutter of panic, and kissed him.

His response was gentle, soft as his lips.

She leaned back and gave him a shy glance. He grinned. “How does that go again?”

She lifted her face to his. “Show me.”

After a while he drew away, rested his cheek against hers. “Dear heart.” His breath warmed her skin. “You’re better at this than you may realize.”

She laughed for the sheer wild happiness of being loved by this man.

He kept his arms around her. “You’re okay?”

“I’ve never been kissed like that.”

“I’m glad, Mollie, so glad. Are you encouraged?”

Cold reason stirred. She hadn’t panicked this time. But next time?

She leaned away, gripping his arm. “Nathan? Some days will be better than others.”

“I understand,” he said. “Think of it as a mountain. We’ll climb it step by step.”

He picked up a handful of her hair and let it drift from his fingers. “Think how we’ve neglected those dishes,” he said.

“And whatever it was you brought me,” she said. “I think it’s a muskrat. You want it fried or stewed into a pot pie?”

“You’ll see.”

“Then let’s hurry!” She smiled at him and led the way downstairs.

As they walked through the hall, he stopped beside his jacket to retrieve a package, and as soon as they reached the kitchen, he handed it to her.

A brown paper bag, small and rather heavy. Not a muskrat.

“Shut your eyes,” he said. “You have to guess.”

He took her hand and guided it into the bag. Her fingers closed around a cool, smooth oval.

She almost dropped it. “What!”

Laughing, she pulled it out and held it to her cheek. “I thought I’d never see this again.”

He grinned. “So did Tara.”

“She told you?”

“Every detail. Even her hideout.”

“But how’d you find it? Why didn’t it melt?”

“That black box of hers. She didn’t know it was a fireproof safe.”

“You went over there?”

He nodded. “I tramped through the woods by her house and found the old truck. And the safe.”

She put an arm around his neck, still holding onto the paperweight. “In the ruins! How clever of you.”

He touched his cheek to hers. “Tara said it was your forever stone.”

“Dad’s gift.”

He took it from her. “Psalm 73:26 is written on the bottom. What’s the verse?”

“
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

She paused. “Dad’s prayer—that it would be true for me.”

He turned the paperweight over, and over again, looked up and met her gaze. “I think your father would be pleased, Mollie.”

Joy rippled through her and became a song about the Mighty One, her Rock.

“God has given me so much,” she said. “The gifts of His grace.”

“Even Tara.” He handed the paperweight back to her.

“Sent by God for his good reasons—Timothy said that.”

“I suspect there’ll be more to Tara’s story.” From his pocket, Nathan took a square of folded notebook paper. “She asked me to give you this.”

Tara’s exuberant script looped across the page.

My dearest Mollie, I’m so glad about your stone!!!!!!!! God must love you a LOT!

Are you sure he loves me? Phone any time?????

~Your forever-friend ~ Tara

“Amazing,” she said. “I can’t wait to show Timothy.” 

The gray eyes shimmered, and Nathan said, “This afternoon Timothy remarked, ‘God’s been doing marvels again, I can see it in your face. How’s our little lady?’ ”

She reached for Nathan’s hand. “Let’s go tell him.”

Those Beautiful Barrens

One of Gloria Repp’s favorite places in the world is the New Jersey Pine Barrens, and when she explored that fascinating wilderness, Madeleine Dumont’s story came to life.

The Pine Barrens forests, crumbling ruins, and foaming, tea-colored rivers all played a vital part in Mollie’s experiences, and they will continue to shape the lives of other Dumont women as well.

Looking Ahead

In the next book, photographer Lindsey Dumont, Mollie’s aunt, takes a trip to Seattle with great hopes for her heart and her career, but she cannot forget her beloved Pine Barrens, and eventually she will return.

Books by Gloria Repp

For ages 2-8

Noodle Soup

A Question of Yams

Tales of Friendship Bog series:

Pibbin the Small

(
paperback and eBook)

The Story Shell

(paperback and eBook)

Trapped
(paperback and eBook)

For ages 9-12:

The Secret of the Golden Cowrie

Trouble at Silver Pines Inn

The Mystery of the Indian Carvings

(paperback and eBook)

Adventures of an Arctic Missionary series:

Mik-Shrok

Charlie

77 Zebra

For ages 12 and up:

The Stolen Years