“A list?” Her heartbeat doubled. Where was he going with this? She reminded herself to breathe.
“First on the list is God. I might’ve figured it out late, but I have no doubts now.” His voice grew softer. “Life is nothing without Him.”
Katy nodded. What was he saying? Had he come to tell her more about his faith? Her knees felt weak, but she found a smile. “I’m glad.”
“And number two . . .” His eyes grew shiny. When he brushed his lips against hers again, there was no denying his emotion. “Number two is you.” His lips parted, and determination added to the mix of feelings in his eyes. “I love you.” He kissed her once more. “I couldn’t wait another day to tell you.”
Katy forgot where she was and who she was and everything except the way she was feeling, the joy dawning on the horizon of her soul. She was no longer on an old stage in the Bloomington Community Theater, no longer on a mission to sort through props and make plans for the fall. There was Dayne and only Dayne.
Then, before she could respond, before she could ask why he would come and tell her this when they’d already agreed nothing could possibly come from it, something happened.
With his eyes locked on hers, Dayne lowered himself to one knee. “Katy . . . I have something to ask you.”
What? What was he doing? She moved one hand to her mouth, and a layer of tears clouded her eyes. She must’ve passed out and fallen into a dream state when the tree hit her. She couldn’t possibly be okay. Because she couldn’t be watching Dayne Matthews on one knee before her, his eyes lost in hers. “Dayne . . .”
“You know something?”
Katy was shaking. Was this really happening? “What?”
“This.” He looked around. “This stage is the first place I ever saw you.” He grinned even as tears filled his eyes. “And I haven’t stopped thinking about you since.” He looked long and deep into her eyes, stripping away all sense of doubt. “I can’t promise I have all the answers.” He was still holding one of her hands, and now with the other he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. “But I want to live here in Bloomington with you, Katy. So that together . . . together we can figure out the answers.”
Katy sucked in a quick breath. She blinked back tears and whispered, “Tell me . . . I’m not dreaming.”
He released her hand but only long enough to open the box. Inside was a brilliant white-gold solitaire diamond ring. Carefully, he took the ring from the box, set the box on the floor beside him, and reached for her hand again. “You’re not dreaming.” He cupped his hand around hers and held the ring with his other hand. “God brought you into my life, and I’ve promised Him that as long as I live—” he smiled softly—“as long as you’ll let me, I’ll never let you go again.” He moved in closer.
Katy could feel it then, the way he, too, was trembling. It was really happening. She wasn’t dreaming, imagining this scene. The feel of his hand around hers, the look in his eyes, were far more than a figment of her imagination. She waited, memorizing the expression on his face.
“With you, I’m someone no one else sees, no one else knows.” Dayne lifted the ring and held it out to her. “Marry me, Katy. Share your life with me, every tomorrow God gives us. Please . . .”
There was nothing she could do to stop her tears. They came unbidden, reminders that she wasn’t dreaming. Then she had a picture in her mind again. Herself, hauling the old Christmas tree onto the stage and falling hard beneath it, being breathless and blinded and covered with cobwebs. And now minutes later Dayne Matthews was asking her to marry him, and suddenly she wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying.
She closed her eyes, allowing the tears and laughter to come at the same time. And that was life, wasn’t it? The most brilliant minutes were laced with sorrow, and the saddest ones could still bring a smile. She breathed in sharply through her nose. This time when she opened her eyes, she could feel the joy pouring from them. Maybe her heart would explode from feeling this good. “I can’t believe this!” She laughed, and the sound of it danced in the air between them.
Slowly, Dayne rose. He had laughter and elation and forever in his eyes and something else. A certainty, a resolve, a sense of protection that told her he’d never leave, never want more than what they had together, right here. The ring dangled between two of his fingers, and he held it up. “Does that mean yes?”
“Oh, Dayne.” She brought her fingertips to the ring. It was perfect, like the way she always felt when she was with him. When she spoke, she did so straight to his heart, his soul. “Yes. A million times yes.”
He slipped the ring onto her finger and over her knuckle. It fit perfectly. “Good.” He pressed her hand to his heart and kissed her longer than before. When they both needed a breath, his eyes held the familiar teasing. He nodded toward the Christmas tree. “Because it looks like you have a position open for a props guy.”
“Mmm.” She put her arms around his neck. “And a sets painter, someone to help your sister.”
“Right.” He kissed her again, working his hands around her waist. Together they swayed on the stage. “You know what you said a minute ago?”
“About props?”
“No.” He gave her a slow smile. “About not believing it?”
“Yes.” Of course she remembered. She still felt that way, even with his ring on her finger and his arms around her.
“Well—” he nuzzled his cheek against hers, his voice low—“I can’t believe it either.” He pulled back just enough to see her. “I looked at that list and realized that it didn’t matter. If I had to move to the North Pole or the moon, I’d do it if it meant being with you.”
“So Bob told you that, huh? About making the list?” The thought was more than she could imagine. Dayne, who not long ago considered God an enemy, had talked to his missionary friend first when he needed to find his faith and again when he needed to find her.
“Yep.” He angled his head. “I figured if God was first and you were second, then I better get out here and let you know what I was feeling.”
She was no longer trembling. Instead, in his arms, with the summer breeze and sunlight streaming into the theater, she was surrounded by warmth and love and a certainty that God was here with them. “So what was third?”
“On the list?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Some of the easy joy in his expression was replaced by a more serious determination. “The third thing was family.”
A dozen thoughts hit her at once. Of course family would come next. What had he said before? That he wanted to live in Bloomington. Which meant that he’d be in the same town, shopping at the same stores, and maybe even attending the same church as the Baxters. Katy could still see the look on Ashley’s face, hear the way she’d sounded when she talked about her older brother and how badly she wanted to connect with him. But how hopeless the situation seemed. She ran her thumb along his brow. “I’m glad. The Baxters want to meet you so badly.”
“I know.” A hint of anxiety darkened his expression. “We have to pray about the tabloids, where it all goes.”
“We will.”
“Speaking of family . . .” Dayne relaxed, and the joy returned. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”
“Swim party with the Flanigans. But I can get out of it.” She loved everything about how she felt. The ring on her finger was from the man she had longed for every day they were apart. He was here now and he was offering her forever, and all the world was bright sunshine and rainbows. “Why?”
“Because—” he kissed her hand, the one with the ring—“I want to take you to a picnic.”
The early afternoon was cool under a sky of mixed clouds and sunny patches of blue, and the sounds indicated that another Baxter picnic was well under way. Ashley sat on a blanket at the top of the hill, little Devin asleep in the baby seat beside her.
Obviously Dayne wasn’t coming. She’d resigned herself to that yesterday morning. Instead of being angry or hurt,
she had spent half an hour praying for him, asking God to give them another chance, another day, when they might all come together. If Dayne wasn’t ready now, then there was nothing she could do to change his mind.
Ashley watched her family playing hard along the shore of Lake Monroe. Kari and Ryan were sculpting a sea turtle in the sand, with the help of Jessie and Hayley and Maddie and Cole—all in life jackets. Nearby, little Ryan watched from his playpen. Ten yards away, Brooke and Peter sat on a towel, their arms around each other, staring out at the water. They were closer than ever, the faith they shared testimony to everything both sets of their parents held dear.
Landon was fishing on a grassy bank next to her father. Ashley smiled as she watched them. Long ago, her precious old friend Irvel had talked about her beloved Hank and how he loved to fish. Maybe, if Ashley was very lucky, God would let her have the same sort of memories about Landon one day.
Ashley recalled their conversation from earlier. They’d been packing the Durango, and Landon headed out with his fishing gear.
“Fishing?” She gave him a puzzled look. “It’s a picnic, honey.”
“I know.” He winked at Cole, who fell in beside him carrying the tackle box. “But nothing tastes better on the barbecue than fresh-caught fish.”
Ashley wrinkled her nose. “Fresh-caught—”
“Hey, Daddy—” Cole looked up at him—“aren’t you gonna tell her about the bet?”
The pieces started coming together. “Bet?”
“Yeah.” Cole grinned at her. “Papa and Daddy have a bet. Whoever catches the biggest fish, the other guy has to jump in the lake with his clothes on!”
She put her hands on her hips and tried not to laugh. “Oh, sure, Landon. Forget hamburgers and hot dogs. Nothing like fresh-caught fish on the Fourth of July.”
“Okay, so I wanna beat him.” Landon raised his pole in the air. “I, for one, can’t wait to see your dad jump in the water with his clothes on.”
Ashley laughed at the memory. Her dad and Landon had gotten closer since her mother’s death. They shared something easy and genuine and a common love for helping people.
As she watched them, Landon’s pole jerked, and he jumped to his feet. “Here it is!” His voice carried up the hillside. “The winning catch!”
“You took my fish!” John stood. His laughter sounded wonderful.
Landon reeled as hard as he could. “My fish, Dad . . . it’s my fish.” He braced himself, and the pole in his hand bent over beneath the weight of whatever he’d caught.
Kari and Ryan and the kids scrambled over to see, and Brooke and Peter watched from their place on the towel. Just then a clump of sticks and water plants broke through the surface at the end of Landon’s line, splashing him and causing him to fall to the ground.
Ashley snickered and sat up straighter so she could see.
Cole was first to Landon’s catch. “Daddy, where’s the fish?”
“Yeah.” Her dad helped Landon to his feet, then patted his back. “Nice catch.”
“Wait!” Cole pointed at the twist of wood and greens. “There is a fish! Deep inside there. Look!”
Landon set his pole on the bank and joined Cole. “He’s right . . . there is!” Landon tore away the wood and pulled back the tangled water plants, and after a minute of struggling he removed a fish. A fish so small, Ashley could barely make it out from her place on the hillside.
“Nice.” Her father started laughing again.
Landon joined him. “But does the stick count? It’s longer than anything you’ve caught.”
The silliness grew, and the others chimed in. The sounds blended and became as familiar as a song. The Baxters laughing together. Ashley was giggling quietly under her breath when she heard something behind her, footsteps and hushed voices.
She turned around and tried to look, but the sun was in her eyes. She held her hand over her brow and saw that it was two people, a couple. Then her heart skipped a beat. Katy Hart was one of them, and the other . . .
Was she seeing things? Could he really have come after all? Goose bumps broke out along her bare arms and legs. In as much time as it took for her to stand, she had no doubt. The other person was Dayne Matthews. He was here! In time for the Baxter picnic!
Katy was smiling, looking straight at her. She and Dayne stopped, and he whispered something to her. She nodded and ran lightly down the hill toward the others. As she passed, she grinned at Ashley and pointed toward heaven. The sign was understandable. A miracle was taking place. There could be no other answer.
Ashley turned back toward Dayne. He hadn’t moved, and he was watching her. He glanced toward the others, then crooked his finger and motioned for her to come. From the place where he was standing, the rest of the family couldn’t see him.
He didn’t have to ask her twice. She brushed the grass off her shorts and walked toward him. The closer she came, the less she saw Dayne Matthews, the movie star and celebrity. Here—standing before her—was her parents’ firstborn son. A brother who was every bit as related to her as Luke.
When she reached him, she stopped and searched his face. “You came.” Her words were pinched with emotion, and tears stung her eyes.
“Sorry I didn’t call.”
“That’s okay.” Ashley was winded, her heart too full to draw a breath. “What . . . what changed your mind?”
Dayne stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “All my life—” he bit his lip, as if he was struggling with his own feelings—“I’ve wanted a family.”
“And all our lives,” she said, taking a step closer, “we’ve missed having our brother.” She let loose a single cry. “Even if we didn’t know about you.”
He held out his arms and pulled her into a hug, one that erased any trace of awkwardness between them. “I can’t believe I’m here.”
Ashley stepped back, but she took Dayne’s hand. She looked over her shoulder. “You and Katy?” Her eyes met his. Last time she’d talked to Katy, her friend had figured she might never see Dayne again.
Dayne’s eyes shone. “I asked her to marry me.” He looked out at the lake and then back at her. “I want to live here and raise a family, and somehow—with God making it possible—I want to be part of this too. A part of the Baxters.”
A ripple of laughter came from her heart and across her lips. Ashley tilted her head back. “I can’t believe this. Thank You, God!” She gave him another quick hug. “I didn’t think it would happen! My mother . . . Mom loved you so much, Dayne. I can feel her smiling down on us.”
“Me too.” He looked down the hill in the direction Katy had gone. A nervousness crept into his tone. “Is . . . is everyone here?”
“Not Luke or Erin or their families but everyone else. Yes.” She laughed, and it held the sound of victory. Everything was going to work out after all. How amazing was God to give them this, after all the pain and heartache her parents had been through giving away their firstborn son, after all the years of longing and wondering. How great that God would bring Dayne into their family now, that he would marry Katy Hart and want to live in Bloomington. It was more than Ashley could take in.
She led Dayne down the hill. “Come on.” There was a catch in her voice. “Dad’s been waiting for this moment all his life.”
So far John was winning. He had a ten-inch trout in his bucket, and everything Landon had caught was either not a fish or too small to keep. The others, including Katy, had gone back to sculpting their sea turtle, and the banter between him and Landon was easy.
With Luke gone, he felt closest to Landon. Maybe because they both understood hospital work—John as a doctor and Landon as a firefighter. Or maybe because of the time when Landon had been critically injured saving the life of a small boy in a house fire. John had stayed by his side, carefully administering the right balance of oxygen and moisture and medication to Landon’s damaged lungs.
Or maybe because God had used Landon to answer his prayers for his precious Ashley. Where wo
uld she be if it weren’t for this young man sitting beside him? The way he’d loved her little Cole, the way he’d waited for her and sought her and understood her—even when she hated herself. Landon’s patience and love could have only come from God.
Whatever it was, he enjoyed his son-in-law, and sometime later today he was going to enjoy watching him jump in the lake with his clothes on. Because John couldn’t let the next generation beat him at a fishing contest. He rested his arms on his knees, his fishing pole balanced in one hand, and glanced at Landon. “Maybe it’s your bait.”
Landon had just finished putting a lure on his hook. “My bait?” He cast out thirty feet. There was laughter in his voice. “What about it?”
“Well—” John pointed to the tackle box—“I hear driftwood’s crazy about those sorts of lures.”
“Yes. Very funny.” Landon raised his eyes. “Listen, it’s not every fisherman who can snag the big driftwood. I want you to know that.”
John was about to say something about Landon’s lures scaring the fish in his direction when he heard Ashley’s voice. “Dad . . . Dad, come here.”
He looked over his shoulder, and what he saw made the blood leave his face. Ashley was walking toward him, a grin spread across her face, her arm linked through the arm of . . . Dayne. Without looking away, John set down his pole, stood, and faced the two of them. His children.
The others were watching, puzzled as to what was happening. Kari and Ryan stood and brushed the sand from their hands and legs; then Brooke and Peter rose. Katy Hart took a step back, giving them this moment. The grandchildren glanced at the newcomer but then returned to their sea turtle.
Landon set down his pole and anchored himself next to John. “Ashley invited him.”
“I . . . I see that.” John’s eyes blurred, and he struggled to keep from breaking down. Dayne, his firstborn son, was here. Here where he belonged. Was this really when everything would come together, here on the beach at one of the Baxter picnics? The moment Elizabeth had longed for all their married lives? He took a step closer, his eyes glued to Dayne’s.