“I forgive you, Frank.” He spoke the words slowly and quietly, giving them weight. “I forgive you because Christ has forgiven me.”
And as he repeated those precious and, yes, holy words, which he knew would help release Frank from his pain, Logan felt as if God’s hand of grace and mercy brushed over him.
Sarah sniffed lightly and as she pulled a tissue from a box beside the bed, her father’s Bible fell down.
Logan bent over and picked it up.
“Shall I read a piece?” he asked as he opened it.
Sarah and Frank nodded.
Logan found a Psalm of praise and thanksgiving. And as he read the words, he once again felt God’s presence in this room.
When he was done, Sarah wiped her eyes, then slowly got to her feet. She stood in front of her father, hovering. Then she reached out, gently wrapped her arms around her father’s shoulders and held him for a few, precious seconds. Frank pressed his good hand against Sarah’s back and Logan caught the shimmer of tears tracking down his cheeks.
Poor, poor man, he thought as Sarah drew away. What you have missed out on in this precious woman’s life.
He pulled himself back from a moment of pity for himself and Sarah. For what they had missed of each other’s last years.
They were together now, he thought. Maybe they had needed this time apart to complete whatever journey God had in mind for them. But God had brought them together now.
And now was all that mattered.
Logan stood as well and cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. “Frank, I have something to ask you.” He waited, then amended that. “No, actually, I have something to tell you.”
He took Sarah’s hand, lifted it to his mouth and brushed a kiss over her knuckles, smiling down into his beloved Sarah’s eyes. “I want to marry your daughter. If she’ll have me.”
Frank looked from Sarah to Logan and what looked to Logan like resignation flitted across his face. But then he nodded and raised his hand as if in blessing.
Sarah turned to Logan, flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close.
“My answer is yes,” she said, hope, peace, and triumph ringing in her voice. “My answer, Logan Carleton, is yes.”
“You know, this is the first time in eight years I’ve looked forward to Christmas,” Sarah said quietly as she let herself into the house.
“You know, it’s the first time in awhile for me too,” Logan returned.
Sarah turned to him. “So do you want some coffee? Or hot chocolate?”
“Just you,” he said, with a contented smile.
Then he turned serious and drew her close. “How are you doing?”
Sarah melted into his arms, leaning into his embrace. She sighed as if she was releasing all the tension of the day.
“It was hard, but it was good. I feel like I’ve turned a page in my life again.” She pulled back. “How about you? You’ve had a lot to deal with too.”
“I’ll admit it’s been a rough day. But what my mother made me read helped. I have no right to withhold forgiveness when I’ve been forgiven for so much more.” He looked down at her, his dark eyes glimmering with intensity. “But what bugged me the most, what had me running absolutely scared was the thought that we weren’t an ‘us’ anymore. Now that I know that’s not true, everything else seems pretty inconsequential.”
His deep voice rang with a conviction that created an answering tremble in Sarah’s heart.
“I’m glad we’re still ‘us’ too,” she said quietly.
He kissed her again, then pulled back. “So, still no Christmas decorations in this place?”
Sarah shook her head. “Not yet. There’s time yet.”
“Do you have any of that stuff?” Logan asked.
“In the attic, though Marilee was always the one to do the decorating.” Another little hitch to her heart, though a gentle one this time. “She had a better eye for that.”
“I’ll help you put some up.”
“But it’s late and you have to work tomorrow,” Sarah protested. He couldn’t be serious.
“Hey, I have a guaranteed contract with Westerveld Construction, so I’m on easy street.” He gave her hand a gentle tug. “I’m kidding, but I want to bring some Christmas cheer into this home.”
“In the attic. But are you serious?.”
Logan caught her by the arms and gave her a little shake of reprimand. “You’re worth a bit of Christmas cheer. It depresses me to think of you coming home to this place and there’s not one single candle or twinkly thing.”
“That’s not very guyish of you to admit.”
He held up a warning hand. “Don’t tell my brother. Now, let’s get that Christmas stuff up and plugged in.”
An hour later the lights in the artificial Christmas tree twinkled from one corner of the living room. The Christmas village was set up and Logan was haphazardly weaving garland up the banister of the staircase.
Marilee would have laughed, Sarah thought, watching Logan struggling with the fake garland. Every now and then he would sigh, looking down at Sarah following him, weaving lights through the boughs. Whenever she offered to help, he turned her down. “This is not rocket science,” he grumbled, unkinking the strands that had sat twisted too long in the attic.
Finally they were done, and in spite of her initial protests, Sarah had to admit that the lights, the decorations and the tree all heightened a sense of anticipation and nostalgia that were the hallmarks of any Christmas season.
She could enjoy coming home to this, she thought with a smile as she swept up the bits of garland that had come loose.
Logan took the broom from her and set it aside. “Come over here,” Logan said, pulling Sarah out of the foyer into the living room.
“Why?”
Logan pointed up at the mistletoe he had pinned above the entrance.
“That’s rather cheesy, don’t you think?” Sarah said.
Logan shrugged. “But traditional.” He drew her into his arms and his chest lifted in a sigh. “And here we are. In your house. And I’ve got you in my arms. I think I like this setup.”
“I think I like it, too.” She slipped her arms around him, holding him tight.
He looked down into her eyes, his expression growing serious. “You know I love you.”
“I’m getting that.” She gave him a joyful smile. “I love you too.”
“Sarah…will you marry me?”
Her breath slipped out of her so that all she could do was nod her acceptance.
Logan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “I took a chance and picked this out myself.” He flicked the box open and in the overhead lights, the single diamond winked back at her like the most glorious promise.
“It’s beautiful, Logan.”
He slipped the ring on her finger and held her hand up, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “Fits just right,” he said, turning her hand this way and that, the ring shooting out sparkles of light.
“Feels just right.” As Sarah looked down at the ring, a sense of wonderment flooded her. “Is this real, Logan? Is this really happening to us?”
“Better be,” he said. “We’ve waited long enough.”