Kaleidoscope Eyes (31 page)

He’d been a coward to the core when it came to something like this. And yet all his careful plans, all his innate avoidance, had been useless. Because there he was, live and in color, looking at Annie with that same glow in his eyes. Touching her arm with the same tenderness. And the sound of his voice when he said her name …

Jed hit the power button, watching the screen fade to black. And this time when he lowered his head into his hands, there was no defiance.

Just a desperate inner plea for help.

As Jed sat there, something stirred at the back of his mind. Something someone had told him once …

“Don’t face it alone.”

Who said that to him? Or was it something he—

Jed stilled. Then was up and out of the chair, going to kneel beside his bed, reaching. His fingers closed around the book, and he pulled it out.

Ken’s Bible.

He fanned through the pages, scanning until he found the note he was looking for. There. Written in bold strokes. “
Need to remember this when life doesn’t make sense. Don’t try to face it alone. Find someone to share the struggle. And share it with God. He’ll have the answers.”

He’ll have the answers.

Jed stared at the wall. It all sounded so simple, but he couldn’t quite buy it. He’d gotten himself into this mess. He was supposed to just dump it in God’s lap and expect Him to fix it all? Why?

His gaze dropped to the book in his hands, and he flipped to the first page, settling deep in the chair.

And started to read.

THIRTY-ONE        

O
CTOBER
13

11:00 a.m.

The butterfly was on Mommy’s nose.

Amberly put her hand over her mouth to catch the giggle. But it was so funny the way the butterfly tippy-toed on Mommy’s nose. Its pretty wings shook. Like a little orange and black angel.

Oh! The butterfly was flying away. Amberly had opened the tent flap to let it inside, but she forgot to close the flap. She wanted Mommy to see the butterfly. But it was flying outside.

She stood up, then looked back at her mommy Amberly knew she was supposed to stay inside the tent. She wasn’t supposed to go outside alone.

But the butterfly was getting away!

Careful to be quiet, she reached for the butterfly. But it ducked and dodged—then spun and circled right out of the tent.
Amberly looked at her mommy Should she wake her?

No, she’d just catch the butterfly herself. She would be very, very careful and not hurt it. She would bring it back inside the tent and keep it there to show Mommy. Tell Mommy the funny way it walked on her nose. Then she would let it fly away

Yes. She would follow the pretty butterfly. And she would bring it back to Mommy.

Amberly stepped through the tent flap, letting her soft giggle escape.

Mommy would be so surprised!

THIRTY-TWO        

O
CTOBER
13

12:00 p.m.

Surely the heavens were smiling down on him.

He almost hadn’t come this morning. So much to do. Too much chance someone would miss him. But the dark urging had been so strong.

Finally he couldn’t fight it any longer. He made his excuses and drove up into the mountains as though the very demons of hell were on his heels.

Maybe they were.

But whatever the motivation, he was here. And heaven knew he couldn’t have arranged such precise, perfect timing no matter how hard he tried. To be standing here, watching, at the precise moment his chosen star decided to wander off? And that the mother should be so sound asleep she didn’t hear a thing? For him to trail the child in silence, with nothing to give him away, not a snap of a stick or rustle of leaves?

It had to be the work of heaven.

After all, had he not been here, who knew what could have happened to this precious little girl. This one who would make things right again. He watched her, dancing after the butterfly and going ever deeper into the woods. Poor thing. Her mother certainly wasn’t watching over her. Foolish woman. With the world so full of predators—those on two legs as well as four—how could she be so careless?

Yes, it was good he was here.

He would take her. It was his right. He was watching over her when she wandered away. So it only stood to reason that she was his. She’d be the perfect star in his drama. All his care and deliberation were about to pay off. Just one more bit of preparation, and he’d be ready.

Excitement surged through his veins. He hesitated, poised and ready to step onto the stage. He held his breath, savoring the moment.

It was time.

The curtain was about to go up.

THIRTY-THREE        

O
CTOBER
13

12:00 p.m.

“Up ‘n’ at ’em, Mom.”

Jed rang the doorbell a second time, though he could hear footsteps approaching. She’d probably scold him for being impatient, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to talk with her. Now. And not just about Annie.

On the drive over here his mind—and his heart—had been working overtime. He’d read page after page in Ken’s Bible, almost as moved by Ken’s notes as he was by the text itself. But both worked together, showing him something he’d never expected to see.

Himself.

One cold, hard truth after another struck home. About who he was. Why he did the things he did to himself. And to others.

Like Annie.

Facing what he’d done to her sliced deep, a grappling hook
that dredged his spirit, revealing other long-ignored truths and shoving them in his face. With each new realization, Jed sank deeper into his chair. Finally he couldn’t take it another moment.

He grabbed the phone and called his mom.

The sweet sound of her voice had been a salve to his raw heart. When he said he needed to talk, she hadn’t hesitated. “Of course, dear. Come right over.”

At the sound of the doorknob turning, Jed steeled himself. He would face his mother and say the things he now knew he had to say. He was ready.

But the words he’d prepared died on his lips when he saw who opened the door.

“Amos.”

The man smiled, but not before Jed caught the glimmer of pain in his eyes at the flat tone in Jed’s voice. “Come on in, Jed.”

He stepped past the older man, his mind scrambling to adjust. Facing his mom was one thing. Facing her with Amos beside her … he wasn’t sure he could do that.

Amos was the first to break the awkward silence between them. “Your mother’s waiting in the living room. She’s got coffee brewed and ready”

Jed started to walk past Amos without a word, but his feet wouldn’t budge. They seemed anchored to the floor. He kept his gaze fixed on the rug beneath his feet. “So … you special order this rug?”

Amos glanced down, a slight crease appearing between his brows. “Your mother did.” His forehead smoothed as they surveyed the room around them. “She always knows the perfect touch to make a room warm and welcoming.”

Jed started and looked up. Studied the man’s features. As always, his face flat lit up when he talked about Jed’s mom. But where that had irritated Jed in the past, this time he found it fascinating. Because he’d seen it before. Not twenty minutes ago.

On his own face when he talked to Annie.

Suddenly Jed knew he not only could do this with Amos present; he needed to. “Why don’t you come join us, Amos?”

His stepfather only hesitated a moment, then a smile broke across his weathered features. “I’d like that.”

They walked into the living room together, a sight that stopped his mother cold. Jed couldn’t help but smile. He dropped into a large, cushy chair, indicating that Amos should sit on the couch beside his mother.

To her credit, she adjusted quickly, her usual calm settling back in place as she lifted the coffeepot to pour Jed a steaming cup. She handed it to him, catching his gaze head-on as he reached out to take it.

“Ernest Jediah Curry, you know I adore you and how happy I am you’ve come home, but I have to ask:
What
is your problem?”

Jed’s mouth quirked at his mother’s blunt question. “Settle back, Mom, and I’ll tell you. I gotta warn you though—” he took a sip of the coffee—“it’s a doozy”

As she sat back, one hand nestled in Amos’s big hand, Jed started to speak. Stopped. Started again. Bit his lip. Grabbed for the first distraction at hand—a flowered throw pillow—and plucked at its fuzzy fringe.

Oh, man. Where to begin?

How about with the truth?

Right.

“I did something stupid, Mom.”

The least she could do was look surprised. But no. She just tilted her head. “And?”

Amos tugged at her hand, and she relented. “I’m sorry, dear. Go on.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, he told them everything, not sparing himself as he spilled it all: how he came to town to meet Annie Justice, plant the seeds that would win her trust, then get her to agree to do the show. About his decision to send the promo to Silas, the man’s reaction.

His mom listened, nodding once in a while but not saying anything. He appreciated that.

In fact, he appreciated a number of things about his mother.
This last week or so it was as though he saw her—really saw her—for the first time. The quick wit. The love that overflowed her actions and words. The joy that cloaked her like an old familiar comforter.

She was a woman at peace.

Had she been like this when he was growing up?

Probably.

If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit he hadn’t seen much of anything but anger when he was a kid. His father’s. His own. As he thought back on those days, he realized the only one who hadn’t been angry was his mom.

Hurt, yes. Sad, of course. But angry?

No.

In fact, he could see now that he and his father had cornered the market on that particular commodity. And he could see something else too.

He could see how much that had cost him. Not just in his relationship with his mother. But with Amos as well.