Rainbow's End (17 page)

“Y-you won't leave till I get b-back, will you?”

“No. I still have a couple of minutes,” Keith promised.

As Kyle took off at a run, Keith turned to Jill. She had her hat on today, and the brim hid her face as she stared out at the blue water, the surface sparkling like diamonds in the sun.

“Jill.” At the sound of his voice, she turned to him. “I'm sorry if my reaction this morning to your announcement about adopting Kyle upset you.”

“It's okay.” But her stiff shrug as she once more turned
away told him it wasn't. “I know I can't give him an ideal home. He won't have the kind of family I had. But it will be better than being passed around in foster care his whole life. And I do love him, Keith. As much as if he was my own child. I hope that helps compensate for the other things he'll lack.”

Setting his case on the ground beside him, Keith reached for her arms, urging her with gentle pressure to face him. “Jill, I don't disapprove. I can't think of anyone who would take better care of Kyle or give him a more loving home. He belongs with you. I was just surprised that you'd never mentioned it. But I guess I've never given you any reason to think you should discuss those kinds of decisions with me.” He paused, trying to find the words to express all that he felt for this special woman. “The thing is, I…”

The ferry horn boomed, cutting him off, and the crew moved into position to release the tethers that anchored the boat to the dock.

“You need to go,” Jill told him. “They won't wait.”

Keith didn't loosen his grip. He couldn't leave like this, couldn't walk away from Jill without giving her some indication of how he felt. This wasn't the time or the place for emotional declarations, but he had to at least offer her a glimpse into his heart.

“You need to leave, Keith.” Jill's voice grew more urgent. The ferry horn sounded again and she tried to draw away, but he held her fast. Prepared to object, she looked up at him. But the words died in her throat as he lowered his lips to claim hers in a tender, gentle kiss.

For several eternal seconds, time seemed to stop. She was too surprised to respond, to object…to do anything but cling to his arms for support. When at last he pulled back far enough
to look into her eyes, she stared at him in confusion. “W-why did you d-do that?”

Reaching up, he brushed a soft strand of hair back from her face and responded in a voice that was as unsteady as the small boats bobbing in the harbor beside the hulking ferry. “Why do you think?”

At her stunned, perplexed look, Keith realized that she really didn't understand the message he was trying to communicate. “Why does a man usually kiss a woman, Jill?” he prompted, his voice as soft, as tender, as a lover's caress.

She knew the answer to that, of course. But in her case it didn't fit. No man could be attracted to a woman so disfigured. Putting a hand to her cheek, she turned away in silence, blinking to clear the sudden film of moisture in her eyes.

His expression troubled, Keith studied the woman beside him. She'd made such strides in her reentry into society…it simply hadn't occurred to him that in their relationship she'd still harbor such insecurities. Be so conscious of her disfigurement. Yet her reaction affirmed the depth of her scars. Not just the visible ones, but the ones etched on her heart, as well.

Truth be told, she was far more conscious of her disfigurement than he was. Sometime during these past few months, as he and Jill had shared meals and conversation and trips with Kyle, her scars had faded into insignificance for him. Her inner beauty was what attracted him. Her warm heart, her loving ways, her deep faith, her generous and giving spirit. Those were the things that made her special. And long after the years robbed them both of physical appeal, those qualities would continue to shine in her, ageless and new, still able to tighten his throat with emotion and fill his heart with love.

But there was no time to say all those things now. They would have to wait until…

“Keith! Keith!”

Kyle was running toward them, as fast as his short legs could carry him. “I…I heard the horn.” He screeched to a stop in front of Keith, puffing, and thrust a small package of licorice into his hand.

Confused, Keith stared at the cellophane bag. Instead of getting his favorite ice-cream treat, Kyle had chosen the candy that Keith always bought for himself when they purchased snacks for their ferry trips. Keith was overwhelmed by the unselfish going-away present from a little boy who'd known little or no generosity or kindness until he met Jill. Blinking away the sudden moisture that clouded his vision, he dropped down and pulled the boy close, burying his face in his slight shoulder. “Thank you, Kyle.”

He held him as long as he dared, and when he rose his intense gaze sought Jill's. “We'll talk more when I get back.”

And then he was gone, sprinting for the boat, boarding with mere seconds to spare. He remained on the deck as it pulled away from the dock, his overnight case by his side, until the ferry shrank to a distant speck in the distance. Only when it disappeared from sight did Jill and Kyle turn toward the car.

As she took his hand, he looked up at her. “He's really c-coming back, isn't h-he, Jill?”

“Yes, Kyle, he is.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

It wasn't a pledge Jill took lightly. Nor was it one she had any qualms about making, she realized as her heart soared with fragile, newfound hope. Because the look in Keith's eyes
just now, before he'd raced for the ferry, had been filled with that very thing.

Promise.

T
he early-November afternoon was blustery and cold, but Jill welcomed the feel of the brisk, invigorating air against her face. Ever since they'd seen Keith off at the dock yesterday, she'd been restless and jittery. The tremulous hope that had followed his kiss had quickly evaporated, leaving uncertainty, fear—and questions—in its place. Sleep last night had been elusive, and the long dark hours of wakeful pondering hadn't brought any resolution. What she needed was a long, secluded walk by the sea to sort things out. When she'd dropped Kyle off for his therapy session twenty minutes ago, she'd asked Marni if she knew of such a private spot. The therapist had directed her to the perfect place—a deserted, windswept stretch of driftwood-strewn beach fronting an expanse of open sea.

A sudden gust of wind whipped by, and Jill pulled up the collar of her jacket, tucking her hands into her pockets as she set off along the shore, determined to straighten out her tangled emotions. Except she wasn't sure where to begin. Until yesterday, she'd been able to convince herself that the look she'd seen in Keith's eyes on several occasions hadn't
been attraction, but simple kindness. She could no longer delude herself with that notion. Though their conversation had been cut short at the ferry landing, and Keith hadn't had time to verbalize what was in his heart, she'd seen it in his eyes. And felt it in his kiss.

He was in love with her.

That insight had been astonishing and exhilarating and exciting. Not to mention scary.

But there was something else that was even scarier.

She was in love with him.

Trying to pinpoint the exact instant when their relationship had made the leap from friendship to love was impossible. It had been a gradual thing, happening in almost imperceptible increments, until one day she'd realized that Keith had stolen her heart. But until yesterday, she hadn't been sure about his feelings.

Now that she was, she knew that the solitary life she'd constructed with such care was on the verge of being reshaped. Assuming, of course, that he wanted to explore those feelings and follow a path that would deepen their relationship. But if he did, would she have the courage to upgrade her life, just as she'd upgraded her studio by adding a new structure that had changed her work space, yet in the process made it bigger and brighter and even better? Did she have the courage to trust this man with her heart, to believe that his love would be true and constant, that he would always be able to look past her scars and see her inner beauty? Did she have the courage to let go of the past? To say goodbye?

As she turned to the Lord in prayer, seeking answers, a gull swooped low in front of her, its raucous cry echoing above the breaking waves. And all at once she was transported back in time, to a trip she and Sam and Emily had taken to the
seashore the summer before the fire. While her husband and daughter had built a sand castle nearby, Jill had taken refuge from the sun under the small patch of shade afforded by the beach umbrella, enjoying their easy repartee and Emily's giggles as Sam teased her.

After a while, a lone gull had circled above, raising its discordant voice and diverting Emily's attention. Jill could hear the conversation as if it were yesterday.

“Listen, Daddy. The seagull is singing.”

Chuckling, Sam had reached over to tousle her hair. “Most people wouldn't call that singing, sweetie. Seagulls don't have a very pretty voice.”

Enthralled, Emily had shaded her eyes to follow the bird's graceful flight. “Well, it may not be pretty, but it made me notice him. And when I watch him up in the sky, I forget about his voice because he has such beautiful wings. He makes me want to fly, Daddy.”

“You can, sweetie. God gave you wings, too,” Sam had responded as he added a turret to the castle.

Puzzled, Emily had transferred her attention to her father. “Where are they?”

“Right in there.” Sam had given her chest a gentle tap. “By your heart. And God is always with you when you use them.”

Emily had puzzled over that for a few minutes, her face thoughtful as she sifted the sand through her fingers. “When you love somebody…is that kind of like flying?” she'd asked at last.

“That's exactly right,” Sam had replied with a smile. “Love is the very best way to fly, in fact.” He'd turned toward Jill then, and she could still recall the tender look in his eyes as his gaze met hers. “Your mommy has a very special gift for
loving. The kind that makes you want to fly. I'm glad she shared it with us, aren't you?”

The image of that warm, summer day faded as another cold gust of wind whipped past, chilling the tears that were streaming down Jill's cheeks. Startled, she reached up with a shaky hand and brushed them away. It had been a long time since she'd taken any of her precious memories out of their sealed storage box deep in the recesses of her heart. And longer still since she'd cried over one of them.

If Sam had been right, and Jill had a special gift for loving, it was a gift that had long gone unshared, locked away in a dusty box, just like her memories. But now a little boy who needed her love had entered her life—along with a man who wanted her love. And both had managed to find that dusty box in her heart and pry open a corner, like a child in search of hidden Christmas presents.

As she stared out at the sea, Jill's jumbled thoughts began to untangle. Like Emily's seagull, she was ready to spread her wings. Despite her fear, it was time to trust her heart—and to trust that the Lord would give her the courage she would surely need in the days and months and years ahead.

Suddenly, with perfect clarity, she realized that she hadn't come here today to seek direction.

She had come to say goodbye.

Startled by that insight, Jill sank onto a large piece of driftwood and stared out at the undulating waves. Then, clenching her hands in her lap, she closed her eyes.
Help me through this, Lord,
she prayed in silence.
Let my message find its way to the family I loved.

When at last she began to speak, her choked, whispered words were caught and lifted by the wind.

“Sam, Emily, I came here today to tell you how much I love you. How much I'll always love you. Not one day has passed since you left me that I don't feel you close to my heart and wish we were together again, with thousands more memories to create and to share. But that wasn't God's plan for us. I take comfort in knowing that you're both in His care now, surrounded by His love for always. And I know someday we'll meet again.

“But in the meantime, I'm still here. And there are two people who need my love. One is a very special little boy who has been hurt emotionally and physically. With each day that passes, I feel more certain that God brought him to me so that I could give him the kind of love he's never known, the kind of love that will help him heal and thrive and blossom. You would have liked him, Emily. He's curious and kind and loving, just like you were. I think you would have been great friends.

“The other person who needs my love has also been hurt. I didn't go looking for his love, Sam; it came to me in a way that I first attributed to chance, but now believe was something more. I think God led him to me, just as He did Kyle.”

Clasping her hands around her knees, Jill searched for just the right words. “I never thought I'd love again after the wonderful life we shared, Sam. I never wanted to. But Keith is very special. I've known that almost from the first day we met, when he commented on my scars. In fact, they could be the reason he took a closer look at me, like the day Emily noticed the seagull because of his raucous cry, but then looked past it to see his beautiful wings and admire the way he could fly. Keith did that with me. He looked past my scars and saw beauty underneath. The kind of beauty that really matters…of character and spirit and heart.

“I want to help Keith and Kyle fly, Sam. You said that day on the beach that I have a special gift for loving. I hope you can understand why I want to share it with these two special people. Why, after all these years of mourning, of hiding in the shadows, I'm ready to step into the light again and make some new memories. But they won't diminish the love we shared. You and Emily will always have a special place in my heart, reserved only for you. That will never change.”

Drawing a shaky breath, Jill opened her eyes and looked up at the clear blue sky. “I have to go now. That little boy I mentioned is waiting for me. But wherever I go, part of you will go with me. For always. I love you both so much.”

Tears once again blurred her vision, and as she groped for a tissue, a nearby piece of driftwood caught her eye. The size of an orange, its gnarled wood bleached white, it had been wrought over time by the ebb and flow of the sea into the shape of a heart.

With trembling hands, Jill reached for it, stroking her fingers over the smooth wood as she followed the curving shape. How odd that among the thousands of pieces of driftwood on the beach one bearing this shape would be lying at her feet.

Her expression thoughtful, she tucked the symbol into her large tote bag. From this day forward, it would hold a place of honor in her home, reminding her always of the transforming power of love. Of God's abiding presence when we spread our wings to soar. And of the simple truth that sometimes saying goodbye to the past is the only way to embrace the future.

 

“It's good to see you, son.”

Wrapped in a bear hug, Keith was too choked up to respond at once to his father's greeting. It had been almost a year
since they'd been together. But the link was as strong as ever. Maybe stronger. After seeing firsthand in Kyle what could happen to a child who didn't have the benefit of a loving, supportive father, he gave thanks that he'd been blessed with this special man in his life.

“I'm glad to be back, Dad.”

His father released him at last, surveying him with a critical eye. “Come in, come in. You look good.”

“I feel good.” Keith crossed the threshold and shrugged out of his coat. “Better than I have in a long time.”

“I have some homemade stew waiting. But from the look of you, I don't think you've missed too many meals lately.”

“Are you saying I've gained weight?”

The older man's eyes twinkled as he took Keith's coat and slipped it on a hanger. “Yep. Another couple of pounds, you might be back to where you used to be. That landlady of yours must be a good cook.”

As his father turned to put the coat in the hall closet, Keith stuck his hands in his pockets. He hadn't planned to discuss this subject with his father so soon, but the older man had given him the perfect opening.

“To be honest, Dad, she's more than a landlady to me.”

Chuckling, his father turned back. “Can't say I'm surprised.”

Startled, Keith stared at him. “Why not?”

“There was something in your voice when you talked about her on the phone.” Bob Michaels shrugged. “Intuition, I guess. I'm happy for you, Keith.”

A soft warmth flooded Keith's face. “Yeah. Me, too. There's a lot I want to tell you about.”

“And I want to hear it all. We'll have a nice chat over dinner. But first, I had another call from Reverend Thomas.
He wanted me to pass on a reminder that he'd like to talk with you before your visit.”

“I figured I'd call him from here, if that's okay. I didn't want to have that conversation at a pay phone. Or at Jill's.”

“Sure. You want to do that first, or after dinner?”

“Do you mind if I do it first? I'd rather get that out of the way so we can concentrate on other subjects.”

“Like that nice landlady of yours?”

“Yeah.” Keith's lips quirked up.

With a wave, the older man directed him to the den. “Help yourself. The stew will keep.”

As Keith settled into his father's worn leather desk chair and tapped the minister's number into the phone, he drew a long, slow breath. Things were finally falling into place. Just one more piece of old business to clear up, a record to set straight, and then he could move ahead with his life, make a fresh, new start. His plans depended on Jill, of course. But he felt confident that she returned his feelings, even though they'd never given voice—or expression—to them until their parting at the ferry. Her eyes didn't lie, though. Yes, she was scared. And uncertain. And apparently unconvinced that any man could find her attractive. But he was sure he could put those fears to rest when he returned. And that couldn't be soon enough for him.

A man's greeting on the other end of the line snapped him back to the present and he refocused his attention. “Reverend Thomas? Keith Michaels here.”

“Reverend Michaels! I'm glad you called.”

The long-unused title jolted Keith, as it had when Gladys had hailed him with it. “My father said you wanted to speak with me before Sunday. Is there a problem?”

“No, no. Not at all. I just wanted to pass on some information. I wasn't sure how much you knew about events that transpired here after you left.”

“I don't know about anything that's happened since then,” he replied, his voice flat. “I wanted a clean break, Reverend. I had no interest in staying in touch with anyone.”

“Call me Steve, please. And I understand your position, given the circumstances. But there are a few things you should be aware of that could affect your remarks.”

Keith doubted that. He knew exactly what he wanted to say when he addressed his former congregation: what he
should
have said in his own defense two years ago, when the scandal broke. He wanted the people he'd once shepherded to know the truth, which they hadn't heard from Susan Reynolds or through the rumor mill. His course of action was clear in his mind. He would lay the facts on the table, set the record straight, clear his name and move on. But this man, this stranger, had agreed to let Keith speak from the pulpit that was now his. He owed him the courtesy of a hearing, at least.