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  Gert chuckled heartily, gasped for some breath, and then patted Ainsley’s hand. “Dear, you’ve always been such a thinker. Just like your mom.”

  “I know. I overanalyze everything, don’t I?”

  “Not a bad quality,” Gert said. “Just not very romantic.”

  “No one’s ever accused me of being overly romantic. I’ve got it in me, but I’m much more practical.”

  “You’re perfect just how you are,” Gert said reassuringly. “And whoever it is God has for you will be perfect too.”

  Ainsley sighed as she thought of the monumental task of finding the right person. “Well, I hope God doesn’t use his sense of humor on me. I hate surprises.”

  Gert closed her eyes. “Oh, dear heart. Don’t ever say that out loud.” She looked toward the ceiling and pointed upward with a shaky hand. “He’s always listening.”

  CHAPTER 6

  WOLFE SAT NEAR his bay window as evening absorbed the light of the day. He loved watching the sun set, especially from his old house on top of the hill. He’d fixed himself a fresh cup of coffee and felt more relaxed than he had in years. He continued to be amazed by the unexplainable peace he felt inside his heart. Though there was nothing really tangible about his conversion, his spirit confirmed its truth and authenticity. And now, as he watched the glorious colors of the evening sky stretch themselves in every direction, he knew he watched the paintbrush of God on the canvas of earth.

  The stars twinkled early this time of year, and so he released the blinds of the window and went to sit by the fire he’d started. In the small drawer next to his favorite leather chair, he took out his private collection of poetry. It was a thick journal, full of the very depths of his soul. Many nights he would spend writing. Other nights he would spend poring over years’ worth of these kinds of writings. No one even knew he wrote poetry. It was the most private thing he did.

  Tonight he turned back several months and read a poem he’d written on a warm spring evening. It amazed him how such colorful words could explain such dark despair. It was an uncomfortable read, to say the least. He hadn’t realized how very depressed he was, how dismal his soul. Hope was not to be found in these pages. He closed the journal and smiled at the thought of how much hope he had now.

  He pulled out his favorite pen and decided to write his very first poem as a new creation. The feelings that pulsed through his heart were nearly indescribable, and for a long moment he could only try to find in his vocabulary a somewhat accurate description of the state of his soul.

  Finally, the words came …

  Ah, that my soul would breathe for the very first time in my life.

  As if the air of the heavens has filled my lungs,

  That the oxygen of the Spirit feeds my blood.

  Wolfe read and reread the words, content with their meaning and content to be able to write from his heart.

  The phone rang, startling Wolfe. It rarely rang, and almost never in the evenings. Who could be calling?

  “Hello?”

  “Wolfe! Glad I caught you.”

  Wolfe sat back down in his chair. “Alfred? What are you doing calling so late?”

  “Late? My friend, this is not late. One in the morning is late.”

  Wolfe smiled. “True. But you’ve always been such a nine-to-five person. Is something wrong?”

  A pause from Alfred seemed to indicate that something was wrong. Although his voice remained cheery, Wolfe knew differently. “No, no. Nothing’s wrong. Um … how are you?”

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “Why? It’s just a question, Wolfe. I’m making extremely polite conversation here.”

  “I know. That’s what scares me,” Wolfe said, sitting up in his chair and then leaning forward, propping himself up on his knees. “I can’t remember the last time you asked how I was doing.”

  A heavy and disgruntled sigh filled the earpiece on Wolfe’s phone. “I’m just wondering—your next book. Have you an idea yet?”

  “What next book?”

  He could almost hear Alfred’s teeth grind together. “What next book? What do you mean, ‘what next book?’ There’s always a next book.”

  “I don’t know, Al. I’m not sure there’s going to be one. Soon, anyway.”

  His voice trembled nervously. “The whole world sits and waits for your books to be published. You can’t just quit.”

  “I’m just figuring a few things out.”

  “Look, if it’s about money, we can talk.”

  “It’s not money.”

  “What then?”

  “Alfred, I have to go now.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve got things to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m writing.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” There was a long pause, and then Alfred said, “Something horrifying?”

  “I imagine to you it would be. Good-bye, Alfred. Oh, and I’ll call you soon. We do need to talk.”

  “We do?” Alfred gulped. “It’s true …”

  “What’s true?”

  “Call me soon.”

  Wolfe hung up the phone and leaned back comfortably into his chair. It felt good to have the power over himself. Before, the life, the writing, the words … they all seemed to have power over him.

  Wolfe sipped his coffee, trying to finish the poem he’d started, but he found himself dwelling on the beautiful face and voice of Ainsley Parker. The more he thought of her, the more aware he became of his heart beating inside the walls of his chest, until finally he had to stand and try to get a perspective, in particular that Ainsley Parker wasn’t interested in giving him the time of day.

  Still, he had a new hope in life, and that hope extended to the long-unrelenting feelings he’d had for this woman. For the first time, the idea of loving her seemed magically possible.

  Wolfe paced the length of his living room, his shadow from the fire long and lean against the hardwood floors of his home. He paced and paced until finally he stopped and mumbled, “I have to talk about this to someone.”

  His hands rested on his hips, and he stared at his feet. Who in the world was he going to talk to?

  Like an artist, Marlee painted a pink strip of blush from the corner of Suzy’s mouth to the top of her temple, and then repeated the task on the other side. “Oh, honey, you look just like that Gwyneth Paltrow!”

  “I do?” Suzy asked with glee.

  “Oh yes. I just need to do your eyes, and then watch out, baby! The men will come knocking tonight!”

  Ainsley sat on the couch and watched with half-interest as her friend tried to turn every lovely face in the room into someone who looked as if they belonged to a circus. She only attended Marlee’s Mary Kay parties out of obligation to her friend. Her gesture inevitably ended up more trouble than it was worth. She never bought anything, and then she would have to scrub her face raw before she went home to her father.

  She smiled as Jenny, Suzy’s sister, passed by on her way to the kitchen. Jenny gave her a polite nod. Ainsley knew she probably seemed like a snob, as if she felt too good for the town. But it wasn’t that at all. In fact, she had never wanted to live anywhere else—pre-horror days, anyway. And the disappointment people were bound to see in her eyes came from many sources, not the least of which was that she was lonely. She wondered how many people who never gave a second thought to marriage were married, and how many who had wanted it their whole lives were alone.

  Jenny returned from the kitchen. “Beautiful, darling, beautiful!”

  Marlee was painting a hideous green across Suzy’s small eyelid. “You’re next,” she told Jenny. “Who would you like to look like? Julia? Or someone more classic, like Marilyn?”

  “Julia! I want to look like Julia Roberts!” She approached Marlee, studying Suzy’s face. “Do you think you can do that?”

  “Of course,” Marlee gloated. “I can do anything with this makeup. It works miracles, but on
ly if you have the right product.”

  Jenny rocked on her feet. “Can you make me have that real wide smile and those real white teeth?”

  Marlee was now lining Suzy’s eyes as if the poor woman didn’t have an eyelash to be seen. “Sure. It’s all in the lipstick and lip liner. I’ll show you how.” She glanced back at Ainsley. “And Ainsley, who do you want to look like? Julia too? Or maybe Gwyneth.”

  Ainsley smiled, but inside she didn’t know why making each other over like Barbie dolls was supposed to constitute a fun evening with friends. Maybe a part of her hated that she still felt bad about wearing makeup. “I’d like to look like a wife with two kids who’s been married for ten years and been in love every single day of it.”

  Her friends turned to look at her. Marlee said, “Well, I’ve got a nice coral color that would look terrific with your blond hair.”

  Ainsley laughed and went to the table they’d filled with snacks. Marlee had provided pretzels. Suzy, cheese puffs. Jenny, Doritos. Ainsley had spent an hour making a rolled, puffed pastry filled with Portobello mushrooms, cream cheese, and fresh spinach. The platter was nearly empty. She nibbled on a pretzel.

  Jenny was looking at all the different colored eye shadows. “I’ve never met anyone who wanted to be married as badly as you,” Jenny said. “And it’s not as if you haven’t had the opportunity.”

  Suzy had one eye closed but was looking at Ainsley. “It’s true. Every guy I know wants a date with you. You’re just too picky.”

  Ainsley shrugged. “I’m not going to settle, be married and divorced in a year just so I can have that big wedding I always dreamed of.”

  Marlee shook her head as she lined Suzy’s other eyelid. “Honey, you’re just such a dreamer. You expect the love of your life just to show up on your doorstep and knock.”

  Knock, knock.

  The girls turned to the door. Suzy giggled. “Expecting anyone, Marlee?” Jenny asked.

  Marlee shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

  “I’ll get it,” Ainsley said.

  She strolled to the door imagining for a moment that perhaps fate had delivered the man of her dreams to the doorstep on this cold fall evening. But then, it would be odd for fate to deliver the dude to someone else’s doorstep. Still … her heart swelled with anticipation as she opened the door.

  It deflated as quickly. “Garth.” She glanced back over her shoulder. The girls laughed but went back to their business. She stepped outside and shut the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”

  “You’re not going to let me in?” Garth gestured. “It’s freezing out here.”

  “It’s not my house for one thing,” Ainsley said. “Besides, it’s a girls’ party, and you’re no girl.”

  Garth shivered. His teeth were chattering and his lips started turning blue. Rugged and weathered he was not. Ainsley felt mildly sorry for him but decided he’d leave sooner this way.

  “What are you doing here?” she insisted.

  “I came to check on you. To see if you’re all right.”

  “I’m fine,” Ainsley frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I heard you ran into Boo today. At the bookstore.”

  “So? How do you know that anyway?”

  “It’s not important,” Garth said. “What’s important is that my little lady is okay.”

  “I’m not your little lady, and why in the world wouldn’t I be okay?”

  “The guy can be pretty creepy from what I hear, and I thought he might’ve tried to scare you or something.”

  “Why would he do something like that?”

  “I dunno. Because, you know, that’s what he does for a living. He scares people.”

  “Garth, for heaven’s sake, he was there looking at books, just like any normal person.”

  Garth frowned in contemplation. “He’s still a weirdo. I mean, converting to Christianity on a whim, trying to make everyone think he’s ‘changed.’ ” Garth used his fingers to form quotation marks.

  “Look, he was a perfect gentleman, and I don’t know where you’re getting the idea that he wasn’t.” She felt a growl crawling up her throat.

  Garth crossed his arms and peered down at her. “A perfect gentleman. Sounds like you two hit it off.”

  “You’re so annoying! You know that, don’t you?” She looked away as she finished her thoughts. “By a perfect gentleman, I meant that he was polite and courteous. You should take a few pointers,” she said and glanced up at him. “Why is it any big deal that I ran into him at the bookstore anyway? And why is it any of your business?”

  “It’s my beeswax because I care about you, Ainsley,” he said, trying to make his eyes look steamy and sultry. “Someone has to look after my innocent little kitten.”

  “I can look after myself,” Ainsley said, opening the door and stepping back inside. “You should go home. You look as pale as death.” She slammed the door, causing the girls to turn around.

  Marlee smiled. “Was that the love of your life knocking?”

  Ainsley fell onto the couch with a grunt. “You know good and well that was Garth Twyne.”

  Marlee shrugged, adding more blush to Suzy’s already bright pink cheek. “Maybe it’s fate,” she said.

  Ainsley stared up at the ceiling. “Or a terrible omen.”

  “Maybe we wouldn’t hit it off. Maybe we’re not meant to be. But I can’t help thinking that we’re supposed to be together. That we’re meant for each other.” Wolfe paused and looked into her pale blue eyes. She sat there quietly, motionless, as if understanding every word he spoke. “I mean, there’s no reason why we can’t at least get to know each other, right? What’s the harm in that? And if I’m a new creation, like Reverend Peck says I am, then what I’ve done in the past should mean nothing, right? From the day I became a Christian, I start new.” He sighed and turned, trying to find the right words. “It’s just something I feel deep inside, something I’ve felt from the beginning. Sure, maybe I should’ve said something earlier instead of dreaming what life would be like if we were together. But now seems as good a time as any, doesn’t it? To explore the feelings we might have for each other. I’m not getting any younger, that’s for sure.”

  “Woof! Woof!”

  Wolfe turned, throwing up his hands. “I’d expect you to agree with that, Bunny,” he said. “Would you just be quiet and let me do the talking? I have a lot to get off my chest.”

  Bunny’s tail thumped against the wood floor and then Goose came trotting in and sat next to her.

  “Oh, now you’re interested,” Wolfe said to Goose, whose own tail joined in the thumping. “Where were you a second ago when I was spilling my guts?” Wolfe sat down on the couch and stared at both his dogs. “How did you two know you were right for each other?”

  “Woof!” Goose answered, his chocolate eyes bright with energy.

  Wolfe smiled and patted them both on their heads. “You two have it easy, you know. You sniff each other’s backside and know it’s true love.” He laughed as they wagged their tails and then trotted off to their food bowls.

  Well, at least he had said it out loud. He’d confessed it to a German shepherd, but at least it was out of his heart, off his tongue, and in the air somewhere, being carried off to bigger and better places.

  Wolfe walked to his window and stared down at the tiny town. Its lights twinkled cheerfully, and from where he stood he could actually pick out the house that she lived in with her father. He could also see the church steeple glowing in the single light that illuminated it from below.

  With one deep breath, Wolfe Boone decided that he would ask Ainsley Parker out on a date. If she refused, then he would know. For all the years he’d wasted writing silly books about evil creatures, he hoped he could make up for them now and that the years he had left would be filled with joy, laughter, and love.

  You sentimental fool.

  Knock, knock.

  “Woof!”

  Knock, knock.

 
“Woof! Woof!”

  Wolfe opened one lazy eye and caught both dogs scurrying out of the bedroom. He heard their claws tapping down the hallway toward the stairs.

  Pound, pound!

  Was someone at his door? He turned to look at his clock. It was a little after seven. The sun had cleared the horizon already, and the day looked bright and inviting. He’d slept well considering all that was on his mind.

  His feet hit the cold wood floor, and he skipped across it until he got to the stairs, which had carpet down the middle. Bunny and Goose were at the front door, whining and looking at Wolfe as if they could make him move faster.

  He finally got to the front door and opened it, just in time to see a man walking away. A mail delivery truck was parked at the curb.

  “Wait!” Wolfe called.

  The man turned around and trotted back up the porch stairs. “Sorry. I know this is awfully early. I just have a lot of packages to deliver, and this one was marked overnight, so I figured it was important.”

  Wolfe smiled as he signed on the clipboard. “You do this for all your customers?”

  The man stared at his shoes. “You’re right. Stupid excuse. Actually … can I … um … Can I have your autograph? I’m new on this route. And I just couldn’t believe I got to deliver a package to your house, and I’m a big fan. This is horribly unprofessional, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just—”

  “Sure.” He took the paper and pen from the man. “There you go.”

  “Thank you!” The man handed the package over and ran back to his truck. Wolfe closed the door, keeping the package high enough in the air to avoid the dogs’ wet and curious noses. He placed it carefully on the counter and decided to make the morning coffee before he got overly excited.

  As the rich aroma filled the house, he leaned on the counter and stared at the little package. It was neatly wrapped in brown paper and even had brown string tied around it. He folded his arms together and sized it up, wondering if this was, indeed, his key to courage.