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The Promise of Rayne Page 27
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With her hand tucked in Levi’s, she bowed her head. Ford opened the prayer by thanking God for everything imaginable. Through squinty eyes, she peeked at him. All her life she’d lived under the influence of power-hungry men. Men driven by success, wealth, position, and fame. Ford was none of those things. He was a humble farmer, yet the unshakable confidence in his voice and the assuredness of his faith held a type of authority she’d never witnessed.
She wanted to hold on to this moment long after night turned to morning, long after the unknowns had faded from present to past.
The shift in Ford’s prayer, from praise to petition, was as seamless as a tide rolling onto the shore. He prayed for the safety of every crew at work, those on the ground and those in the air. And for every evacuee affected by the fires.
And then, he prayed for rain.
The echoed “amen” around the room blanketed her in a soul-deep warmth. At the encouragement of the aid workers, the crowd dissipated along the hallway and through the auditorium doors, each evacuee collecting a small Baggie of personal items: a toothbrush and toothpaste, face and body soap, deodorant, and mouthwash.
A flash of blond in her peripheral vision pulled Rayne’s focus to her second cousin. Celeste pressed a phone to her ear and paced the hallway adjacent to the gymnasium.
Rayne touched Levi’s upper back. “Hey, I need to chat with Celeste for a minute.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I should probably discuss a few things with Ford too.”
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll find you in a minute.”
A promise she tucked into the pocket of her heart.
Celeste pivoted near the locker bay, next to a darkened science lab, her steps halting midstride as her gaze snapped to Rayne’s. She muttered a few quick phrases into her phone’s receiver and tapped the screen. Her arms went stiff at her sides.
Rayne approached with caution. “How are you?”
A slight lift of her chin. “It’s not every day I’m pulled from my bed because of a forest fire. We don’t have many middle-of-the-night evacuations in the city.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so.”
Celeste scrunched her lips to the side of her mouth. “But the good news for you is . . . I’m leaving.”
Rayne glanced down the hallway. “Leaving where?”
“Shelby Falls. The lodge. I’m not cut out for this kind of life.” She flicked her wrist. “Sleepy towns, cowboy-farmer types, fire season. All of it.”
Just a month ago Rayne had banked on Celeste speaking those exact words. She’d been willing to wait her out. To celebrate her departure.
Strange how she didn’t feel celebratory at all now.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve lived here my entire life and this is my first fire evacuation. Although the cowboy-farmer types aren’t all bad.” Rayne’s lips quirked into a shy smile.
“Still.” Celeste slid the toe of her red sandal in an arch against the tan linoleum. “Earlier tonight, when you were trying to help me, I should have taken you more seriously.” She gestured to the shelter signs in the hallway. “I didn’t give any of this too much thought. Until it was happening to me. Suppose that makes me sound even more self-centered than you already think I am.”
“No, I actually thought something similar myself only a few minutes ago. Perspective has a way of changing things.”
Celeste worried her bottom lip. “Also . . .” The word dragged on, and for a second, Rayne doubted Celeste would finish her thought. “I’m sorry. For how I’ve treated you, for how I’ve always treated you. I guess I’ve felt . . . threatened by you.”
“By me?” Rayne’s question was strangled by shock.
Though Celeste avoided eye contact, a torrent of unfiltered emotions flooded her face. “It may be hard for you to believe, but coming to the lodge wasn’t about boosting my ego. Sure, I wanted to show off my strengths in business, my résumé, but . . . I don’t know, I wanted to be a part of something that mattered. Something connected to my roots. But just like when we were young, when I arrived here, you were still the little sweetheart of Shelby Lodge. I was glad Cal fired you. I figured everything would finally fall into place for me with you gone.”
Rayne guessed at the words she hadn’t spoken. “So when you saw me tonight, you must have assumed I’d come back to claim my place.”
“It’s what I would have done.” Celeste sucked in her cheeks and then blew out a hard breath. “But it’s not what you did. You weren’t there as a ploy. You were there to help. Because that’s who you are, a martyr.”
Rayne laughed. “I’m hardly a martyr, Celeste. Believe me. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t felt threatened by you since you arrived. I suppose this summer didn’t turn out the way either of us planned.”
The pause that settled between them prodded Rayne to speak again. “So when are you headed back to New York?”
“I haven’t booked a flight yet.” Celeste pursed her lips, but Rayne could tell a private debate was taking place inside her cousin’s overactive mind. “I, um . . . I actually turned in my notice to Cal this morning.”
“This morning?” Rayne asked, confused. “But you just said—”
“I lied.” Celeste’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not leaving because of the town or even because of the wildfires.” She hesitated as if searching for the right words. “After Cal fired you, things were . . . tense around the lodge. When he decided to close the shelter doors, I disagreed with his approach to handling the media. And he made it clear my opinion wasn’t wanted. He may have said he was looking for a family-oriented replacement, and sometimes it did feel like he cared about my insights.” She shook her head. “But other times I got the impression he was really only looking for a puppet. Someone who would simply follow his orders blindly. And I didn’t work so hard in school all those years to be micromanaged by a man with a God complex.”
“I’m sorry, Celeste.” And surprisingly, Rayne was sorry. A puppet was exactly the kind of employee Cal desired. He’d nearly succeeded at making one out of her, the same way he’d made one out of her father.
“Don’t be. I have a lot of opportunities at my disposal,” Celeste said before clearing her throat. “Also, about your proposal. It wasn’t all bad.”
A validation Rayne no longer needed but appreciated just the same. “Thank you.”
Celeste’s phone lit up in her palm. “I should probably grab this.”
Before her cousin could turn away, Rayne felt that familiar prodding once again.
“Wait, Celeste?”
“Yeah?”
“I was thinking that maybe you could stick around for a few days.”
Celeste’s brows rose, though her voice held none of its usual sass or sarcasm. “Why would I do that?”
“Because if you leave now, we might never get a chance to get to know each other.” And hadn’t she missed out on enough time with family due to biased judgment?
Her cousin’s lips parted, but no verbal response followed.
Rayne continued, “There’s a couple new hiking trails and restaurants that have opened up farther south. And remember that old ice-cream shop with the carousel we loved as kids? It’s a sub shop now. Best sandwich you’ll ever eat. And that little pond we used to fish at with Gia and Joshua, it nearly dried up about six years ago and someone turned it into the most gorgeous Japanese garden. There’s a lot you haven’t seen outside the lodge. I could give you an unofficial tour. And maybe you could even add a few new contacts to your fancy spreadsheets.”
A bewildered look crossed over her cousin’s face. “Okay. That, uh, that could be good. I’ll think about it.” She offered Rayne the slightest of smiles before pressing her phone to her ear and turning away.
Celeste’s genuine surprise stayed with Rayne as she reentered the pod of townspeople gathered near the gymnasium doors.
Rayne searched for Levi in the crowd, smiling as she spotted him lifting a small freckle-faced boy up to the water
fountain spout, the boy’s mother wrangling another young child nearby. But then her gaze locked on a familiar gray-haired farmer on the opposite side of the room. Her uncle. Ford. He stood with his back to her, facing a woman who looked a lot like . . . Delia? Rayne nearly bumped into a volunteer table full of personal-care packages.
Ford and Delia. Talking.
Just a mere twenty-four hours ago, the sight of the two of them together might have sent her into cardiac arrest. But not now. Not after all she’d learned. Now she hoped the rift that had splintered them apart eighteen years ago could be mended in time. Restored. The same hope she had for her family.
Gia breezed through the main doors of the high school, her dark curls a mane around her face. “Are you okay?” she asked, clutching Rayne’s arms like a mother hen. “My dad said you helped evacuate the lodge.”
“Yeah,” Rayne said on an exhale. “Thankfully, there were only a few guests staying over.”
“And what about Celeste? Did she freak?”
Rayne wasn’t in the mood to gossip. Whatever had taken place in the hallway with Celeste had her feeling strangely protective.
An idea formed in her head, one she was certain Gia would balk at. “Actually, she’s doing okay. Considering.”
Gia narrowed her eyes. “What? What’s that face about?”
“I’m wondering if . . . would you be willing to let Celeste stay at your place tonight?”
“Uh, last time I checked my hide-a-bed was occupied. By you.”
Rayne raised her eyes to the man smiling at her from only a few paces away, and Gia’s suspicious gaze followed, dragging from Levi back to Rayne.
“I’m staying here. With Levi.” The statement was as bold as it was telling.
“You’re not even trying to hide it anymore, then?” Although she’d asked a question, there was little inflection to her voice.
“I’m done hiding.” From herself and from her family name. “I love him, Gia. And he loves me.”
Her cousin winced. “Let’s hope your love can outlast Cal’s wrath.”
There was so much Rayne needed to explain, so much Gia needed to understand about their family. About Ford and Grandpa Shelby. But not here, not tonight. The last twelve hours had taken too much of a toll on them already. “I’ve feared Cal’s wrath for too long. He doesn’t get to dictate my heart. Or my future.”
“You discovered something, didn’t you? What you’ve been trying to figure out about Cal and Grandpa’s will.”
“Yes.” Far too simple an answer for eighteen years of missing family history.
“And?”
“I promise we’ll talk about everything very soon. Just not tonight.” Rushing such a revelation would cause more harm than good. Levi had been right about that. He’d been right about so many things.
“Fair enough.” On the tail end of a sympathetic nod, Gia sighed. “And fine, let’s go tell the blonde she can stay at my place tonight. But if only one of us comes out alive, that’s on you.”
Rayne looped her arms around her cousin and squeezed her tight. “I love you.”
“I love you too, even if you do smell like a burnt marshmallow.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Levi’s focus remained fixed on Rayne’s shadow-draped face, even though she’d gone silent nearly twenty minutes ago. He memorized her: the arch of her eyebrows, the fan of her dark lashes, the heart-shaped pout of her lips. Studying her perfection was far more appealing than analyzing everything tomorrow might bring.
The cot groaned beneath him as he settled onto his side.
“You okay?” Her sleepy whisper made him all too aware of her nearness.
“I’m fine.” He reached out and brushed his thumb across her cheek and then the indent in her chin. “Go back to sleep, beautiful.”
She pillowed her head onto her elbow. “You’re worried.”
“Just thinking.”
“Thinking alone can be dangerous.”
“I’m not alone.”
“No.” She laced her fingers through his. “You’re not.”
Someone coughed near the bleachers, and he allowed his next words to simmer a few extra seconds. “I keep thinking of all the things I left unfinished. The paperwork I didn’t sign on my desk. The warehouse I didn’t lock up. The e-mails I haven’t returned.” About the delay of Second Harvest’s expansion plans.
“That’s not all you’re worried about.”
Her ability to understand him was only one of the many reasons he’d fallen so hard for her. “No, it’s not.” But fretting over investors when the farm could be nothing more than two hundred acres of charred ground seemed petty by comparison. His gut roiled at the thought, calming only when he caught a glimpse of Rayne’s searching expression.
Her presence bolstered a feeling of quiet strength inside of him, a reminder of a prayer he’d only just now realized had been answered.
In all the chaos, God had given him the gift of perspective. There was no setback that could destroy him. Not now. Not when everyone who mattered to him was safe.
Rayne flipped Levi’s hand over and rubbed at the calluses on the inside of his palm. “What’s your favorite memory of the farm?”
He stared at her, willing himself to follow her down that sentimental path. “I don’t know if I can choose a favorite.”
“Then just tell me about a moment that makes you smile anytime you think of it.”
“Does you showing up unannounced in a golf cart count? ’Cause that makes me smile.”
“No, tell me something I don’t know about.”
He pulled a memory up through the haze of unfinished business. “So, it was my second apple harvest at the farm. I was nineteen.”
“Yeah?” She leaned closer, her cot springs squeaking.
“I’d talked Ford into hiring Travis for seasonal help, and we were supposed to fill the barrels for the fall festival. Ford had sent the other pickers home, and since Travis and I were the lowest men on the totem pole, and didn’t have access to the farm equipment, we were chosen to sort the rest by hand.” A loose grin twitched his lips. “Ford has this process when it comes to apple selection—it’s tedious and time consuming, looking at every angle of an apple before adding it to the good barrel or tossing it into the reject box. He swore by the method; his reputation was staked on it. But after Ford turned in for the night, we decided if we couldn’t speed up the stupid process, we could at least find a way to enjoy it a little more.”
She bit her lip. “Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. Travis paid a friend to bring us a few cases of beer.”
The foreboding look on Rayne’s face begged to be kissed, and he answered the silent request before continuing. “To be honest, I don’t even know how we finished sorting that night, much less how we moved the good barrels into the delivery truck. We lost more than a few apples in the process.”
She grimaced. “What happened?”
“Ford was waiting for us outside the barn the next morning, along with the trash can we’d carelessly discarded all our empty beer bottles into.”
Her eyes rounded. “Was he furious?”
“We were sure he’d fire us. I’d never seen Travis so nervous, and I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me. We both had fathers who were deadbeats on their best day and violent drunks on their worst. We’d heard every possible four-letter-word combination to describe our level of worthlessness. So I knew whatever happened, Ford couldn’t possibly say anything we hadn’t already heard a thousand times.”
The corners of her eyes and mouth turned down and he kissed her slender fingers.
“But Ford didn’t fire us, and he definitely didn’t give us the lecture we deserved.”
“Then what did he do?”
“He told us he was taking us out for burgers.”
“What?”
“That’s what we said too, but we went along with it. After he dragged that trash can back to the side of the warehouse, he drove us to that old dine
r on Seventh. I think we held our breath the entire way there.” He stroked the soft skin at the back of her hand. “He ordered for us and then asked both of us a question I’ve never forgotten: ‘What kind of man do you want to become?’”
“How did you answer?”
“I didn’t at first. All I could think about was who I didn’t want to become—a man like my father. But Ford said, ‘Good character isn’t produced overnight; it’s grown over many seasons. In the same way you sort the good apples from the bad, the marks of poor characters are just as easy to detect.’”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, he loves to say, ‘Character is built on every decision we make, especially those we make in secret.’ The day Ford took me in was a new beginning, but the day he gave me a second chance when I clearly didn’t deserve one—” He fought against the tightening in his throat. “That day changed the trajectory of my life. I could never hope to be a better man if I didn’t make the choices of a better man.”
“Amazing,” she said on a breath.
“It’s where I got the name Second Harvest.”
“That’s an incredible story.” She rolled her lips together. “I still can’t believe I’m related to him.”
“I can.” A higher compliment didn’t exist.
Her sudden stillness sharpened his senses.
“I’m so grateful you’ve had him in your life, Levi.” Tears compromised her speech. “Whatever tomorrow brings, I’ll be forever grateful for what my grandfather’s farm gave to you both—a family, the way family was meant to be.”
He gripped the bottom of her cot and closed the two-inch gap between them. With a hand to the back of her neck, he spoke the words over her lips. “Whatever tomorrow brings, know that I love you, and I have no intention to stop.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The 9.2-mile drive had never felt longer.
Levi adjusted the controls on his dash, cutting the flow of outside air and saving their throats from the fumes of burning foliage. Careful to navigate around the orange-and-white road blockades, he tailed Ford to the fire marshal’s designated meeting location.