Wings of Promise (26 page)

“No. I doubt I will.” He didn’t want to talk about Kate.

“I’ve been expecting a letter, but nothing yet.”

She looked over her shoulder at Lily, then taking his arm, led him toward a side aisle. “I know this is none of my business, but I’ve been . . . concerned.” She took in a breath.

“Is there something I can do to help?”

Her blue eyes softened and she said in a hush, “I’ve just been worried about Lily. Is she doing all right?”

Paul felt a stir of irritation. Why did people think that just because a woman wasn’t married she was in some kind of trouble? “She’s great. The baby’s healthy and Lily’s a good mother. Her parents are a great help too.”

“Has the father done anything to help?”

“No. From what Lily says, he’s not interested.”

“Really?” Helen’s eyes widened. “I’d think a man would want to care for his own flesh and blood.”

“Lily’s made peace with it. And I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business.” Paul’s tone was sharp. He was surprised at Helen. She’d never seemed to be the type to nose in on other people’s affairs.

The color drained from her face. She looked mortified. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It is none of my business. But if there’s anything Albert and I can do to help, please let us know.”

“I will.” Right now all he wanted was to get away. He detested gossip, and although he was certain Helen meant well, he was offended by her probing. And he knew the next topic would be Kate and he couldn’t bear to talk about her.

From the moment she’d gotten on that train, he felt as if the oxygen had been sucked out of his lungs. He’d never be the same. Every day since she’d gone, he’d prayed for her return.

K
ate pulled on a sweater as she hurried down the stairs. She breezed into the kitchen where her mother was finishing up the breakfast dishes. “I could have done those for you.”

“Don’t be silly. There were only a few to take care of.”

“Well, I’ll do them tomorrow. I promise.” She glanced around. “Do you know where Angel is?”

“Oh, she went off with your father this morning. They’ve become pals.” Joan smiled. “So, where are you off to?”

“I’ve got to go into town. Do you mind if I take the car?”

“You can use it any time—you know that.”

“Thanks.” Kate dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “You’re the best. Do you need me to pick up anything?”

“Mayonnaise. And another dozen quart jars.” She opened the icebox and peered inside. “I thought I had a full jar of mayonnaise, but my memory must be going.” She held up a nearly empty jar. “I’ll need more to make the potato salad for tomorrow’s festivities.”

“It should be fun. Do you expect a lot of people?”

“Just about everyone we know.” Joan smiled. “You remember how it is at the end of the season.”

“Oh yeah. My first fall in Alaska, I was so homesick. I’d think about you all here and imagine the fall activities. Sometimes I could actually smell the cider.” She smiled. “I was glad to be in Alaska, but I also wanted to be here with you and Dad and our friends. It’ll be nice to take part this year.”

“We’re one of the last farms to make cider, so everyone decided to meet here.” Joan let out a sigh. “It’s a lot of work.”

“I’ll help as soon as I get back. I won’t be long.”

“Why the trip to town?”

“I need some stationery. I’m almost out. A friend of mine had a baby, so I’d really like to get a letter off to her.” Kate didn’t want to explain about Lily. She took a step toward the front room.

“Who had a baby?” Joan wiped off the counter.

“Lily. She was on my mail route.”

“I remember you mentioning her. How nice. I didn’t know she’d gotten married.”

Kate didn’t correct her mother’s assumption.

She picked up the car keys from an occasional table in the dining room alcove. “I won’t be long.”

Kate hurried out the front door and across the yard to her parents’ Chrysler sedan. It started right up. Her father was a stickler for proper maintenance of his car and truck. He was the same about his plane. Kate backed out of the driveway and headed down the hill toward the main road.

The day was clear and warm, so she rolled down the window and rested an arm on the window frame. White clouds, reminding her of cotton candy, swept across a pale blue sky. Kate looked toward the mountains and felt a tug for the wilds of Alaska. The mountains there had seemed to explode from within the earth.

Dust flew up from the dry road and in the window. Kate could taste it. In Alaska, the air would be cold and smell of fermenting berries and moist earth. Snow might still carpet the ground from the storm that had blown through. When she’d first settled there, she’d missed Yakima, especially the cool fall mornings and warm afternoons. Sadness rose inside her. Now it was as if she had two homes. If she lived in one, she missed the other. Melancholy rippled through her. Would she ever be content?

She gazed at the brown hillsides. She’d always loved their look—velvety and warm. All she needed was a little time and this would be home again.

She pulled up in front of a market with pumpkins piled in a bin outside the front door. The windows were plastered with posters advertising sales on sugar, flour, and spices. Stepping inside, she glanced about. Where would they keep the stationery?

A redheaded woman she’d never seen before stood at the cash register. She smiled and her freckles seemed to stretch across her cheeks and nose. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for greeting stationery. Oh, and I also need canning jars and mayonnaise.”

The girl stepped into the aisle. “The writing materials are down at the end.” She pointed at an aisle on the far side of the store. “The mayonnaise is in the next aisle over. And canning jars are straight down this one.” She turned to the row behind them.

“Thank you.” Wondering what she ought to say to a woman who’d had a baby out of wedlock, Kate set off toward the end of the store. She imagined that some people had probably judged Lily harshly, but she figured Lily would come to terms with what she’d done and enjoy being a mother. Living out on the creek with her parents would make it easier.

And then lost hopes and dreams swamped her as Paul’s face filled her thoughts. She’d once envisioned them raising a family there on the homestead. The hurt ran deep. Would she ever stop loving him?

As she approached the section with paper, pencils, and pens, she spotted a man who looked vaguely familiar. His dark hair and the way he held his muscled body reminded her of someone. He turned and Kate’s heart skipped. It was Charles Gibson, Alison’s brother.

Blue eyes, filled with loathing, bore into her. His lips tightened into a line over his teeth. “What’re you doing here? I thought you moved to Alaska.”

“I did, but I’m back now.” What else could she say? This kind of meeting was what Kate had feared. Alison’s family hated her. Back when the accident happened, they’d refused to speak to her. In a small town like Yakima, the chances of running into them was likely.

Charles continued to glare at her and folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe you ought to consider going back.”

Kate swallowed hard. There were no words. “I know how you feel—”

“You
don’t
know how I feel.”

“I’m sorry about Alison.”

“Being sorry doesn’t change anything.” He held his fixed angry stare a few seconds longer, then turned and walked away.

The burden of guilt and shame pressed down on Kate. Charles was right. Saying she was sorry didn’t make things better. Alison was gone. Kate understood that God had forgiven her, but clearly there were people who never would.

She turned and faced the cashier. The redhead stared at her as if she’d just figured out who Kate was and she didn’t want her in the store.

Without saying a word, Kate walked out. She was hurt and angry. When would it end?

Driving home, she didn’t see the blue sky or the golden hills. All she could see was the loathing in Charles’s eyes. Her mind flashed to the accident, the icy water, Alison’s body being pulled from the wreckage. It felt as if a great stone of shame hung from her neck. And it glared at her in the same way Charles had.

By the time she pulled into her driveway, she’d managed to rein in her tears. She headed inside the house and up the stairs. She caught a glimpse of her mother but pretended not to see her. Once secluded in her room, she threw herself across the bed and released her sorrow. Deep sobs shook her body.
God, I’m so sorry. Please free me from this. I don’t know what to do
.

She heard the door open and knew it was her mother. She didn’t look up. The bed gave slightly and Kate felt a hand on her back. She rested her cheek against her dimity bedspread and closed her eyes.

“What happened?” Her mother’s voice was warm and protective.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kate rolled onto her side and wiped away tears.

Joan handed her the handkerchief she kept tucked in her shirtsleeve.

Kate softly blew her nose. “I didn’t get the mayonnaise or the jars. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care about that. Your father can go. Right now I care about you.”

Kate sat up. “I ran into Charles Gibson at the market.” She blew her nose again. “He hates me.”

Joan’s eyes revealed her own grief. She pulled Kate into her arms. “I’m so sorry, Kate. But you have no control over what he feels. He’s allowed bitterness to poison him.”

Kate dabbed at the last of her tears. She hated to cry, especially in front of people, even her mother. “I don’t know what to do. This is a small town. I’m bound to see him and his parents when I’m out. It’s what I hated about living here before. What should I do?”

Joan thought for a while, then said kindly, “Maybe it’s time you talked to them.”

“I tried to. Remember? They wouldn’t speak to me.”

“That was a long time ago. A lot could have changed.”

“Obviously it hasn’t with Charles.”

“He’s young.”

Kate mulled over the idea. “Maybe I could talk to Mr. and Mrs. Gibson. But I don’t know what to say.”

“Pray about it. God will show you.”

Kate nodded. The idea of meeting with the Gibsons was terrifying, but she knew it was the right thing to do. “I’ll call them.”

Joan smiled gently. “I think that’s a good idea.” She stood. “Dinner’s on the table. Come down when you’re ready.”

Kate sat at the table, but she couldn’t eat. Her stomach tumbled as she thought about the call she had to make. After the dishes were finished, she dialed the operator and asked to be connected to the Gibson residence. Her hands were wet with perspiration and her heart drummed. When she heard Mrs. Gibson on the other end of the line, her mind went blank. She almost hung up. Finally, with her voice quaking, she said, “Mrs. Gibson, this is Kate Evans.”

“Oh.” There was a long pause. “Hello, Katharine. What can I do for you?” Her voice wasn’t unfriendly exactly, but it wasn’t warm either.

“I was hoping I could come over and speak with you and Mr. Gibson.”

Another long silence. Kate held her breath.

Finally, Mrs. Gibson said, “I suppose that would be all right. When did you want to come by?”

“Whatever time is best for you.”

“I’ll have to speak to William. Can I call you back?”

“Of course. I’m staying with my parents.”

“Fine, then. I’ll get back to you and let you know when.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Gibson said, “Good-bye,” and hung up before Kate could respond.

She set the phone back in the cradle and turned to her mother. “She said okay. She’s supposed to call and tell me when.”

“Good. If you’d like, your father and I can go with you.”

“No. This is something I have to do on my own.” She smiled at her mother. “But thanks.”

Lauraine Gibson called the following morning and suggested they meet that afternoon at two o’clock. Kate worked alongside her mother, preparing for the evening’s party, but her mind was with the Gibsons. All she could think about was what she should say and their possible reaction. The joy of the day and the fun of the upcoming party were squeezed out by dread. She kept looking at the clock. Time dragged.

Finally at half past one, she stopped working and went to freshen up. She chose her dress with care. It was important that Mrs. Gibson approved. She didn’t use any makeup or perfume, just in case the Gibsons found them offensive. Finally, she hugged her mother and headed for town.

Her heart seemed unable to find an even rhythm. Her hands were damp, her mouth dry. White and black billows of clouds sat on the mountaintops. Kate kept looking at them while trying to sort out what to say.

The Gibsons lived in a cozy neighborhood. Kate remembered it well. She pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine, then stared at the house—a small two-story with clapboard siding. It looked just as it always had—tidy flowerbeds and a large walnut tree in the front yard. Her eyes went to a window under the eaves—Alison’s room. Memories of sleepovers, practicing dance steps together, and listening to their favorite songs on the radio swept through Kate.

She gripped the steering wheel and rested her head against it.
God, help me
. She straightened and threw back her shoulders. Nine years had come and gone. It was time to resolve this.

Kate opened the car door and stepped out. A cool breeze swept up the street and tossed her hair into her eyes. She brushed it aside and took a quieting breath before walking to the front door. She stared at it a moment, then knocked.

Almost immediately the door opened. Lauraine Gibson stood with a hand on the knob. “Katharine. You’re right on time.” Her dark hair had gone partially gray and sorrow had taken the light from her brown eyes.

“Hello. Thank you for seeing me.”

She opened the door wider. “Please. Come in.”

Kate stepped inside. A stairway leading to the second floor was directly in front of her. She remembered racing up those stairs to the privacy of Alison’s room. On her right was a small living room. It looked just as it always did. A tan davenport with a swirl floral design rested against the far wall and two matching armchairs sat in front of a bay window.

The mantel over the fireplace had been repainted a bright white, but the same blackwood clock rested there, its pendulum softly murmuring the passage of time. Mrs. Gibson had always kept fresh flowers in the house. Today a vase with red roses brightened the room from its perch atop an occasional table.

“Please have a seat,” Mrs. Gibson said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Kate said, her dry mouth making her tongue trip over her words.

Mrs. Gibson disappeared into the kitchen. Kate waited, her hands pressed between her knees. She wondered if Mr. Gibson would be here.

Mrs. Gibson appeared with a tray of glasses and a plate of cookies. “If I remember correctly, you like lemonade.”