Woodlands (34 page)

“If you want to cancel dinner, that’s fine,” Leah said. “We both wanted to talk a few things through with you.” For good measure, she added, “Before we drive home together this evening.”

Collin straightened his shoulders. “Fine.” The smooth, professional tone had returned to his voice. “You have to eat
anyway; might as well eat before you hit the road. It’s a long drive.”

“Yes, it is,” Seth agreed. “But I’m sure the ride home for me will be much less stressful than the journey here.”

Leah caught Seth’s deeper meaning and gave his side a squeeze since her arm was still around his middle.

“I’ll see you both at six,” Collin said, excusing himself and walking past them.

Seth pushed the elevator button again, and the door opened. They entered and rode to the lower level in silence.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Leah said, as Seth walked her to the library. “I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t have to trust Collin. The only one you have to trust completely is Christ. I know that’s been hard for you over the years, but he’s the only one who won’t ever let you down.” Seth gave Leah’s shoulder a squeeze and headed through the lobby for the parking lot.

Leah watched him go and then entered the small library through the thick wooden doors. She was the only one there. A crackling fire rose from the large fireplace, which was lined with gray and brown river rock. Built-in bookshelves ran from the floor to the ceiling on the two opposite walls. In front of Leah stood a long marble-top table decked out with a silver platter of tiny sandwiches, strawberries dipped in white chocolate, and sugar cookies in the shape of flowers with light pink and purple frosting.

Shelly would love this. So would Lauren. And Jessica
.

Leah poured herself a cup of tea from the brass urn in the center of the table. It felt strange to be the only one in the library and the only one at this tea. But this was good. She wanted to be alone with the fire, a soothing cup of tea, and the envelope from Franklin’s safe-deposit box.

She settled herself on the comfortable, forest green sofa that faced the fireplace. After eating two strawberries and taking a sip of tea, she pulled the folded manila envelope from her purse. The nervous fear of the unknown had left her. The confusion over how to respond to so many surprises no longer hung over her. Leah knew that whatever was in the envelope was something Franklin had wanted her to have, and that alone made it special.

Reaching her hand into the flat envelope, Leah pulled out three postcards. One was of the Austrian Alps, the second of the Seine River in Paris, and the third of a gondola docked against a red-and-white-striped pole. The gondolier stood on the dock, complete with a wide-brimmed straw hat with a blue ribbon hanging down its back. He leaned casually against the pole and indicated with his hand that his gondola was available for the next rider.

Seth’s postcards
. A nostalgic smile danced across Leah’s lips. She thought of all the times she had held those postcards at Franklin’s house and how she had whispered to the gondolier that one day she would ride in his gondola.

Leah flipped over the cards. If she had read them before, she didn’t remember any of Seth’s messages to his great-uncle. The postcard from Paris held three scribbled lines: one about the weather, one about the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, and a final line about the weather again.

The postcard from the Austria Alps read,

Leah smiled broadly as she read the back of the postcard from Venice.

Leah gazed into the cheery fire and tried to remember where she had heard that phrase before. It wasn’t from one of Jessica’s three-by-five cards. For some reason, she could hear Mavis’s voice when she thought of the verse.

Then she remembered. It was the last thing Franklin had said to Leah the day she visited him before he passed away. Mavis had noted he had been saying it ever since the lawyer had come to change the will.

“The blessing of the Lord makes us rich, and He adds no sorrow to it,” Leah whispered into the firelight. “I agree with that.” She felt a settled confidence that Seth believed that as well. His life so far was evidence that he had not lived to gain riches. Seth impressed her as someone who was living for God’s blessing, not man’s. That was certainly how Franklin had lived.

Leah read the last lines of the postcard.

The double doors of the library opened, and Leah turned to see Seth entering. He was clean-shaven and wearing fresh clothes. She smiled as he grabbed a strawberry before coming over to sit beside her on the couch.

“What do you have there?” he asked.

“Do you recognize these?” Leah held up the postcards.

It took Seth a moment. He turned one over and viewed his own handwriting. A smile came across his face. “Where did you get them?”

“Franklin’s safe-deposit box.”

“Those were in his safe-deposit box?”

“Yes, that’s all that was in it. He kept these on his coffee table for years, and I would always stare at them. I had a private conversation going with this gondolier.” She handed Seth the postcard.

He read the back. “ ‘The blessing of the Lord makes us rich.’ So that’s where I first heard that verse.”

“And what’s the verse in Zephaniah?” Leah asked.

“That’s been my favorite since I was a kid. You probably know it, too. ‘The L
ORD
thy God in the midst of thee is mighty, he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy, he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.’ ”

Leah didn’t know that verse. “Wait, what was the last part again?”

“ ‘He will joy over thee with singing.’ ”

Leah took the postcard from Seth and stared at the picture of the gondolier. She felt her lungs squeeze and the pulse pound in her throat.

“Are you okay?” Seth asked.

“I’m not supposed to sing,” she said in a whisper. “That’s what Jessica said today. I’m not supposed to be the one singing.”

“I don’t follow you.”

Tears rushed to Leah’s eyes, as she held the postcard for Seth and tried to explain what had just become so clear. “The gondolier. It’s the Lord. He’s been inviting me to rest in this pocket of grace for so long, but I’ve been the one doing all the steering. My whole life I had to be in control, even if I didn’t
know which canal to go down.”

Seth reached over and wiped away a tear. He looked at her compassionately; yet his expression showed he didn’t have a clue what she was rambling on about.

“It’s from your verse, Seth. ‘The winter is past and the season of singing has come.’ Only I’m not the one who’s supposed to do the singing. Jesus is the Gondolier of my life. He wants me to rest in his pocket of grace while he decides which canal to take me down.”

The tears came in a steady cascade. “Do you understand what I’m saying at all? It’s my season of Judah. I choose to praise God instead of trying to prove myself good enough for him. I finally get it! I don’t have to steer the boat and sing the songs and do everything. Jesus is the Gondolier. I rest. Here.” She pointed at the pillows cushioning the gondola. “He steers, he leads, and he sings over me. That’s what I never understood. He’s the one who does the singing.”

Seth opened his arms, and Leah leaned against his chest, sobbing. She felt so free. Pulling away, with a ripple of laughter, she said, “Honest, Seth, I never in my life have cried as much as I have this last month.”

“You know how I feel about your tears.” Seth stroked her hair.

“It’s just that I never understood before. Not the way I understand now. He sings over me!”

L
eah wasn’t sure if Seth completely understood what she was saying. It didn’t matter. She understood. And her relationship with the Lord would never be the same.

Drying her tears and composing herself, Leah tucked the postcards back into her purse and tried another sip of her tea, which had cooled too much for her to drink.

Seth checked his watch. “Almost six.”

“I’m ready,” Leah said.

She and Seth strolled to The Loft restaurant with their arms around each other. Collin was already seated.

Leah resisted the urge to control the conversation. She sat back in her chair and opened her menu, as if this were just dinner with two friends.

Collin waited until they had ordered before saying, “I don’t know that much needs to be said at this point. It’s obvious, Leah, you’ve made some choices about whom to trust.”

Leah remembered Seth’s words from earlier in the lobby. “Collin, I’ve learned a few things today. One is that Christ is the only one I can trust completely. He’s the only one who won’t ever let me down. Humans make mistakes all the time.”

Collin’s expression registered his surprise. “Perhaps as a professional advisor, I should mention it can be risky to trust your future to people who have made mistakes in the past.”

“I think it’s even riskier to trust people who manipulate the truth.”

Collin looked intrigued.

“I don’t want to play any games, Collin. I just need to say that I felt it was unfair of you to try to gain my sympathy by telling me that your wife had been killed in a car accident. I happen to know you had been divorced for two years when she died, and the child she was carrying wasn’t yours.”

Collin squinted at Leah as if he couldn’t believe she had detective powers that could uncover such information. Seth appeared equally surprised.

“I’m sure it was still a very painful experience for you,” Leah continued. “But if you plan to stay in Glenbrooke and continue your father’s practice, I think it would help you to know that the people your father has served for years are honest people who expect the truth. That’s all, Collin, just tell the truth.”

Collin paused, studying Leah. “You are an exceptional woman, Leah Hudson. I said it before, and I’ll say it again. It’s my loss I didn’t recognize that when we were in high school.”

Leah felt her candy apple cheeks doing what they loved to do. Yet she didn’t try to hide their blushing. She looked openly at Collin and said, “I don’t think I knew who I was in high school. But I know who I am now, and I hope we can be friends. I’d like the three of us to be friends.”

Collin’s appearance softened. “I’d like that as well, Leah.”

Seth spoke up. “Before I’d be real comfortable with that, I think you and I have a few things to settle. First, I understand you have a file on me. I’m sure it’s legal or else you wouldn’t have it.”

Glancing at Leah, Seth continued, “I told Leah everything, and I would like you to know that I have nothing to hide. Everything I said in your office yesterday was true. I didn’t know the will had been changed. I didn’t come to Glenbrooke in search of my great-uncle’s fortune. I came here for medical reasons. I agree with Leah that I, like all the other people of Glenbrooke, expect honesty and decency from a man in your position. I look forward to your display of those qualities as we continue to do business together.”

Collin looked at Leah and then back at Seth. He hesitated before saying, “My apologies. To both of you.”

The waiter arrived with their food, and Seth asked if he could offer a prayer.

They ate quietly for a few minutes before Collin said, “If I might add my own swan song here, I’d like to say a few things. I moved back to Glenbrooke looking for something. I think you’ve both helped me to see what that was. I missed the honesty and integrity I grew up with. I guess some of my old business ways followed me back home. Consider your words taken to heart. I appreciate your honesty. Both of you. I’d highly value a friendship with you.”

Leah felt relieved. She also was impressed that Collin had responded so well.

After that the conversation flowed more easily and freely. Collin agreed to destroy the file he had on Seth. Then, because Leah knew Collin was still probably dying to know, she told him about the postcards being the only treasure in the safe-deposit
box. She pulled them from her purse and showed them to him.

“ ‘It’s the blessing of the Lord that makes us rich,’ ” Collin read. “I remember hearing Franklin say that once when I went with my father to pay him a visit.”

“ ‘And He adds no sorrow to it,’ ” Seth added.

Collin nodded somberly, turning over the postcards and examining each of the pictures. Leah couldn’t help but smile when he studied the postcard from Venice. She knew that no one else would ever see what she saw in that picture. She already had plans to frame it so she would always remember what had become so clear to her today, that the Gondolier daily invites her to ride with him while he does all the work and chooses the right canals. And most importantly, that he expresses his delight by singing over her.