Epilogue

Four Months Later

“They’re an attractive couple, aren’t they?”

At Scott’s comment, Karen shifted around to watch Val and David walk hand in hand to the wedding cake on display in the center of the small banquet room. Val was glowing, and David had eyes for no one but his bride. “Yes, they are.”

“I like the symbolism of having a wedding on New Year’s Eve.”

“I do too. Especially for Val. She’s on the brink of a new life in so many ways.”

“I’m glad she connected at the high school.”

“Me too. The students love her, and I guess the administration does too. I wasn’t sure they’d go for the job-share proposal she and that other teacher cooked up, but I think she’s as adept at sales as she is at acting. With David adjusting his schedule too, they won’t have to resort to day care for Victoria.”

“Family first. I admire their priorities.”

“So do I.”

Several successive flashes went off as the newlyweds cut into their wedding cake, and Karen clapped along with the other guests.

As the applause died down, she leaned closer to Scott. “Would you like some cake?”

He took her hand. “To be honest, I’d prefer a different kind of sweet treat.”

A delicious tingle of excitement swept through her.

She squeezed his fingers. “That can be arranged.”

With Michael gone, her life, too, was on the brink of a new beginning. One she hoped would include seeing much more of this man—as soon as possible. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate all the Chinese takeout and errand-running and gymnastics-practice chauffeuring you did when I had to work late or deal with paperwork for Michael?”

“You’ve mentioned it a few dozen times, I think.”

“But you know what? I’m even more grateful for all the evenings you held my hand and offered encouragement after a really rough day. For listening to my angst over Kristen’s issues and my own struggles with anger and forgiveness. And most of all, for never pushing me to take our relationship to the next level while Mi­chael was alive. I wouldn’t have gotten through that whole ordeal without you.”

“Yes, you would. You’re a strong woman.”

“I’m not sure I’m that strong.”

“I am.” He leaned closer, and the embers in his eyes—the ones he’d kept banked all these months—suddenly burst into flame. “And as for thanks, I can think of a few—”

“Here you are, Karen.” Margaret bore down on them, interrupt­ing in her usual imperious tone. “Val wants to take a family picture, and they aren’t going to cut the cake until all the photos are finished. Come along. People are ready for dessert, and we don’t want to cause a delay.”

Without waiting for a reply, she marched off toward the bride and groom.

Karen gave an exasperated sigh. “What rotten timing. Leave it to Mom.”

A soft chuckle sounded close to her ear, Scott’s breath warm against her skin. “Go ahead. Duty calls. I’ll wait.”

“You’ve done more than your share of that in recent months. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

After squeezing his fingers, Karen joined her family. Tried without much success to curb her impatience as the photographer took photo after photo. Hurried back to the man she loved the instant she could escape.

He rose as she approached, taking the hand she extended. “That was fast.”

“We rushed. Kristen was as anxious to rejoin Steven as I was to get back to you. Nobody should need the matron of honor for a few minutes.”

“What do you say we find someplace more private?”

“I’m in.”

He led her out of the dining room and glanced down the hall toward the lobby of the private club. A cozy fire crackled in the hearth, and a small, vacant settee stood across from it.

“That has our name on it.” He strode toward it, a man on a mission.

As they took their seats, he rested an arm across the top of the back. “This beats fighting for a bench at Mr. Frank’s any day.”

“Ah, but that has its charms too. I remember one particular visit when we had to squeeze together on a sap-covered bench.”

“I remember that too. Sap has had a fond place in my heart ever since.”

She gave a soft laugh and scooted closer to him. “I do agree it’s hard to top snuggling up in front of a crackling fire on a cold winter night.” She motioned toward the grandfather clock across from them. “Almost midnight. What a perfect way to ring in the new year.”

“Speaking of new years—and new beginnings—I have an an­nouncement.” Scott didn’t change his posture or expression, but all at once a quiver of excitement stirred the air. “I have another new job.”

“But…you al­ready have several. Music director at church. Sax player with a jazz group. A full roster of students for private lessons. What more can you take on?”

“How about the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“My classical training was on the clarinet, so while you were otherwise occupied this fall I dusted off those skills and auditioned in November. An opening came up two weeks ago, and they offered me the job.”

“But...that’s a world-class orchestra!”

He sent her a look of mock indignation. “Are you saying I’m not good enough?”

She nudged him with her elbow. “You know better. I’m in awe of your talent on the sax, and I’m sure you’re every bit as accomplished on the clarinet—but why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“There was no guarantee it would amount to anything. Besides, you’ve had a few other things on your mind.”

“Nothing that should have taken precedence over this! It’s incredible…fabulous…wonderful...I could spew out a dozen more superlatives to tell you how happy I am for you!”

“I’d rather you show me.” Confirming they were alone with a quick scan of the lobby, he pulled her into his arms. “I’ve waited what feels like a lifetime for this mo­ment. So get ready.”

“I’m more than ready.” She melted into his embrace. Throughout Michael’s last weeks, Scott had practiced the patience he’d claimed he didn’t possess, never pressuring her to give him time she didn’t have, settling for a few stolen lip brushes that had offered a tantalizing hint of the passion he kept on a tight tether.

But now, at last, they could concentrate on each other.

And Scott’s kiss was everything she’d dreamed of. Tender, yet ardent. All-consuming. And filled with promise.

After he pulled back—with obvious reluctance—she could utter only one word. “Wow!”

“My sentiments exactly.” His voice wasn’t quite steady. Nor was the hand that touched hers. “I have some news for you too. The symphony will be going on a three-week European tour in April. I hoped you’d join me at the end, in Paris. I can’t think of a better place for a belated honeymoon, can you?”

Her lungs stopped working. “Are you…is that a proposal?”

“What do you think?” His tender, intimate smile erased any doubts.

“You want to get married in April?” She savored the notion even as she tried to take it in.

“No. I said belated honeymoon. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better for the wedding.” He took her hands, and she could feel the slight tremor running through them. “After your last experience of marriage, I know you deserve a prince this go-round. Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced my crown. In all honesty, I’m not the best bargain around. I make mistakes, I’m not always patient, and I have a temper that can get the better of me.

“But I do have some positive qualities. I believe in honoring prom­ises. I believe love is a gift to be treasured and cherished all the days of our lives. I believe in keeping my priorities straight. And I believe God brought us together for a reason. I think I know why, and I hope you feel the same. Because I love you with all my heart—and I always will.”

With a trembling hand, Karen reached out to touch Scott’s face, to assure herself he was real and not some fairy-tale fantasy she’d conjured up. But when he caught her hand in his, then turned it over and pressed his lips to her palm before he let her place it against his cheek, the lingering tingle of his kiss and the slightly rough texture of his five o’clock shadow beneath her fingertips was tactile proof he was very real.

The clock began to chime, the sonorous bong ringing in the new year—and reminding her how quickly the seasons of life slipped by.

But this first day of the new year marked the start of a new season. A better season.

She and Scott had done their share of weeping.

This was their time to laugh—and to love.

She leaned closer to him, until she was only a whisper away. “I do feel the same. I love you with all my heart too. This may sound sappy and sentimental, but I always thought a Valentine’s Day wedding would be wonderful. That would also give Kristen a chance to get used to the idea—though she already thinks you’re terrific, so it should be a smooth transition. Is that too long to wait?”

The flame in his eyes put the blazing fire in the grate a few feet away to shame. “I think I can manage six weeks. Especially know­ing I have a lifetime ahead with you.” He stroked her cheek. Let his fingers play in her hair. “Now I think we should seal this engagement properly.”

As he leaned toward her, Karen caught a movement in her pe­ripheral vision. Val. But her sister halted after spotting the cozy duo on the settee.

For a brief second their gazes connected, and in Val’s eyes Karen saw joy and approval and love. With a thumbs-up, the bride blended back into the shad­ows and retraced her steps.

Then Scott’s lips gently settled over hers—and in the fleeting instant before his kiss swept her away, Karen gave thanks for the blessings that graced her life.

And for that certain summer when four lives had intersected to create a tapestry of love.