Simple Gone South

Lucy couldn’t help Brantley. She couldn’t heal her own broken heart, but this she could solve.

“Anna Beth,” she said once the other woman had hung up the phone. “The big gas stations out by the interstate—they have batteries. You can’t get any yogurt, but they have batteries, all you want. And they don’t close.”

Anna Beth’s mouth formed a perfect O. “We didn’t think. Oh! We are so stupid.”

Lucy stepped around and took the water pitcher from her. “Go, Anna Beth. I’ve got this.”

She hesitated. “I can’t leave you with all this. And alone in the church.”

“I’ll have it done in no time. And I’m not alone. Franklin is vacuuming the sanctuary. He won’t leave until I do.” Anna Beth looked hopeful. Lucy laughed. She seemed to be laughing a lot tonight for other people’s comfort. “Go, Anna Beth. Make Christmas happen for your children.”

“Really, Lucy? You don’t mind? I won’t forget this.” And she was gone, calling Dale as she went.

“Merry Christmas,” Lucy said to the empty air and began to arrange flowers and greenery methodically. Maybe she would deliver the flowers to the hospital herself. She could even do it tomorrow, on Christmas Day, instead of the day after. Those sick people would need a little extra cheer. And come to think of it, she might need to get away from Missy’s for a little while.

She had signed up for hot chocolate and sofa time with Missy, something they both usually loved. But not tonight. Whatever Missy’s tact turned out to be would feel wrong—whether she tried to console, motivate, or even ignore. Though ignoring wasn’t likely. Not Missy’s style at all.

She tucked one final piece of holly into the last arrangement. All done. She wiped down the counters and locked the door of the flower room. Franklin was polishing the altar with lemon oil when she went into the sanctuary.

“I hope I haven’t held you up, Franklin,” she said.

“No.” He paused and smiled at her. “I like to leave everything clean before I go. Besides, I left one big rambunctious mess at my house. Grandkids everywhere. My wife chopping and cooking ninety to nothing. Grown kids playing cards and arguing like they’re five years old. They all think they’ve got to spend the night with us on Christmas Eve. You can’t walk for the sleeping bags.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Lucy said.

He laughed and went back to his polishing. “It is at that. I just wish it could be a quieter kind of wonderful. Wrap up good, Lucy. It smells like snow out there. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” she said as she walked to the vestibule.

And though she wouldn’t have believed it, when she opened the church door, it didn’t just smell like snow, there was snow—beautiful magical snow falling for a Christmas Eve night.

Except there was no magic—not for her. The only magic she’d ever known, the only magic she’d ever wanted, was in Nashville, Tennessee.

She pulled her coat tight around her and started down the steps.

And, to her amazement, magic stepped out of the shadows.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lucy held her breath as Brantley mounted the bottom step and held his hands out to her. There was no power on earth that could have stopped her from walking toward him, though she questioned the wisdom in that. But there were snowflakes on his eyelashes, in his hair, all around him. How could she not go to him?

When she was two steps above him, he dropped to his knees.

Her heart sank. Not again. “What are you doing?” she asked.

He smiled but it wasn’t his dazzling golden boy smile. This smile was a little sad but maybe a little hopeful too.

“I got us into this mess on my knees and I’m going to get us out on my knees. I mean that, Lucy Mead.” He took her hands in his. “I am asking you not to marry me. I am acknowledging my fears and my demons. But I am willing to fight those demons so that the next time I come to you on bended knee, your answer can be yes.” He squeezed her hands and gave them a little shake. “You said a lot of things to my dad that made a lot of sense. I do want to hide in you.”

Maybe there was some magic to be had after all, if he truly meant what he said. Still, she had to hear more. “I accept your proposal to not marry you,” she said.

“I am not going to promise I will ever be completely over what happened to my family. I can’t promise that I won’t always want to hide in you just a little. But I do promise this: I will not ask you to marry me again until I am completely sure that I can stand on my own. And wise though you may be, Lucy Mead, there was one thing you told my dad that was dead on wrong. You said I didn’t love you. I do, Lucy. With everything I’ve got, I love you. But I will not ask you to be my wife again until I am absolutely sure the need for you has diminished until the love outweighs it.”

Maybe there was some magic to be had and they had a chance. Maybe was a scary place to live, even scarier than probably. But not nearly as bad as never.

He rose but he didn’t take her in his arms or kiss her like she thought he might. Instead, he took her hand and they sat down together on the steps. “I won’t lie to you Lucy; I’m a mess. But I guess you knew that. I had a long talk with my dad today and we both learned some things we didn’t know. Then we got Big Mama in on the sad fest. I’ll tell you all about it later. It’s not everything, but it’s a start.”

“Sometimes a start is much more than just the beginning,” she said. It all sounded good, but there had to be a plan. You just didn’t get up one morning and think I’m going to lose weight and expect results if you didn’t do anything differently. “Where do we go from here?”

“First, I’m not going to run anymore.” He looked to her for approval and she squeezed his hand. “I’m going to talk more to my family. Big Mama says there’s a grief counselor at the church and I might try that. Or who knows, I might go to a full-fledged shrink, lay myself out on the couch and talk till I’m hoarse, if that’s what it takes. I’ll figure that part out.” He gave her a sidelong look and dropped his eyelids. “And I hope I’m going to be able to talk to you.”

“You can always count on that,” she promised.

“I’m going to put a building to rights. And I’m going to live in this town. If you’ll let me, I’m going to be with you and love you because I want to, not because you have to keep me in one piece. I have to do that myself.” He laughed. “I sound like some kind of a self-help book, don’t I?”

“You sound like a man,” she said slowly, “who has decided that he’s going to work hard until he’s all right.”

He smiled and this time it was that golden boy smile. “I hate to appear any needier than I already have but I’ve laid my heart at your feet and I haven’t heard a word about getting any of that back.”

She was astounded. She hadn’t said it, had she? “Do I love you? Brantley, loving you is the story of my life, the only story I know. And that’s a story that’s never going to end.”

She laughed, and this time it wasn’t for anyone’s comfort, but because a little edge of happy took hold and began to spread.

“Never?” He closed in like he was going to deliver up a Christmas kiss. “I usually don’t like that word, but in that context, I’ll take never. But I’m going to be looking for some forever too.”

And she got her magical Christmas kiss with the snow doing a joyful dance around them.

Epilogue

June weddings were overrated. They had to be. Lucy was sure there had never been a more perfect wedding than hers and it was almost September.

And she hadn’t even had to do very much to make her wedding happen. For the first time in their