Under the Mistletoe, page 25
part #1 of Home to Heritage || Book Five Series
Did she want to make up with Logan? He’d failed to show up at the snowman event, he’d failed to show up at the live Nativity. And at the first sign of real conflict between them, he’d taken off. Just like he’d done the day Liam returned. She’d spent a lifetime with those she loved not showing up. She didn’t want her future to be more of the same.
But Logan the author—the kid who loved to create stories and give hope—was still in there, and she couldn’t let Logan throw that part of himself away.
“I’ll do it.”
Smiles spread around the table. Liam reached into his pocket. “His driveway isn’t well cleared. Take my Bronco. Be good to her.”
She stood and took the keys. “I thought you weren’t supposed to get involved.”
He shrugged and laced his fingers across his stomach. “He’ll forgive me. It’s what brothers do.”
She hurried to get her coat. He was right. You forgave those you loved, and sometimes you went toe to toe with them. This could go well or very poorly, but she did hope—no, she knew—that God went before her. She didn’t need to be afraid.
sixteen
The distinctive roar of Liam’s old Bronco filled the air. Seriously? Were they going to come every day until Logan relented? Cal roused from the couch and pawed at the door. A few minutes later, a knock echoed through the cabin. Wait. Liam never knocked. Logan glanced out the kitchen window. It was Liam’s truck all right. He dried his hands and walked to the door and opened it to a very angry…“Devin?”
“Logan.” Her blue eyes blazed. He was suddenly very aware that he wasn’t exactly ready for company. No doubt his hair stuck up and he was in much need of a shave and probably didn’t smell fantastic either. He wore sweats and had bare feet. He basically looked only a few steps above homeless.
“What is this?” Devin marched past him into the cabin without waiting for an invitation, brandishing some papers in her hand. Cal jumped up on her, and she pushed him down to shed her teal coat.
Logan stiffened and shut the door. “So much for the promise not to interfere.”
“Don’t blame your family. They are trying to save you from yourself. So I will ask you again.” She tossed the pages on the coffee table, then spun to face him, her long braid swinging with her movement. “What is this?”
He caught enough of the words to make a guess as to what the pages were. “The end. Sorry to disappoint. There seems to be a lot of that going around.” He motioned toward the couch. “Mind if we sit while you, too, tell me how I failed to measure up?”
She followed him to the sitting area but didn’t join him on the couch. “I just drove through snowy weather for over two hours in that monstrosity. My shoulder is sore. That stick shift is like trying to row a boat. So you will take this conversation seriously?”
“I am.” His face hardened. “Sometimes endings are tragic. Sometimes love ends in heartbreak. That’s life.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” She stomped toward his wood-burning stove, then paced back as if choosing her words carefully. “The serial has been fun. Romantic. Entertaining even. But where is the Victor Holt who wrote the first three books? Where are the scenes that had me reading late into the night because I had to know what was next?”
“Now you sound like my editor. I’ve been trying to prove myself for the past month, and it’s still not enough. Sorry to disappoint everyone. It’s just me.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. You have this idealized idea of Victor Holt. Of course I’d fall short. Anyone would.”
“That isn’t what this is.”
“Then tell me what it is, because I’ve got nothing.” He shrugged, trying not to let her see how much this was tearing him up.
“I don’t think you’ve been trying to prove yourself to your editor, your writing coach, or your readers. I don’t think you care what they think. They aren’t the problem.”
“Then who is?”
“You, Logan. You are sabotaging yourself. You’re afraid that the first three books were a fluke and that’s all you have in you. You’re afraid that everyone will hate book four and that they’ll decide you’re a fake, and you’re afraid they’re right. So instead of trying your hardest and giving them a book that they’re going to love, you just quit.”
Logan leaned forward on his knees as the pressure built in his chest. “You don’t—”
“In fact, I think you’re afraid God made a mistake when He chose you to be an author. When He picked you by putting words in your heart, a story inside you that you were supposed to write. I think that you think it should’ve been, I don’t know, Liam. Maybe Luke. Or maybe the guy who sat next to you in creative writing. Anyone but you. Because you don’t think you are worth choosing.”
The words shredded him, and he hung his head between his elbows, his hands lacing on the back of his neck. “You don’t know what it’s like to have thousands and thousands of words in your head every day and then put them out there into the world only to have people say that they’re not good enough. No one shows up ready to hand you a one-star review on your job.”
Devin flinched but didn’t seem swayed. “Those are strangers.”
“True. But guess how it feels when it’s somebody that you love. My family basically showed up telling me I was one-starring my life. And now here you are.”
“Yes, here I am. And your family didn’t show up because they were judging you. They showed up because they love you. They believe in you. They want the best for you. Your family is the type that shows up. Whether to celebrate with you, call you out when you’re making dumb choices, or just to pick you up when you’re broken. Your family shows up. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
Devin lowered herself onto the edge of the recliner, her voice softer. “Listen, you’re not the first author to go through rejection or rewrites. It doesn’t mean you aren’t a good author. It means you weren’t telling the right story.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have another story.” He sank back, his muscles heavy.
“Then go back to the One who chose you to tell this story and ask Him for the right one!”
“What if it’s too late? Maybe my season is over. Let someone else take the torch.”
“Maybe.” Her eyes locked on his. “And if you walk away, I’m sure He’ll use someone else. But I guarantee you that He doesn’t want you hiding away in a cabin feeling sorry for yourself. Several days ago you said you wanted to pursue the idea of adopting the Wallis kids. What happened to that?”
When he didn’t answer, she pushed on. “If you decide to do something like that, that isn’t a for-now idea. It’s a forever-no-matter-what idea.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because when things got hard between us, you took off. And doing so broke Easton’s heart. Writing. Adopting. Relationships. All of them are challenging. Hard. Wonderful. Amazing. And sometimes heartbreaking. But worth it. God doesn’t make mistakes. And until you believe that—really believe that—you’ll never be able to write a book worthy of the Victor Holt name. And three kids will be less for not knowing you, and you’ll be less for not knowing them.”
“I’m not sure I have what it takes to do either.”
“You don’t.”
Well, that was brutal honesty. He dropped his head into his hands.
Devin’s voice softened. “Do you know why Rand’s mother died trying to save his father?”
Logan’s head jerked up. Talk about right turns in the conversation. He half shrugged. “It took too much power.”
“Close, but no. You were very clear that she didn’t have the strength because she tried to do it on her own power. She even emphasizes to Astryn that that power belongs to Origin and Origin alone. The stone is a conduit that Origin can use, but the stone doesn’t have power, and neither does Astryn.”
When he just blinked, she gripped the arms of the chair. “You don’t even realize that you wrote the solution to save Rand and save Victor Holt into your story. Go to the source! Astryn needs to trust in Origin’s power to save Rand. And if something feels too big, you, Logan, need to go back to the source. If your story keeps failing, go to God and ask Him for the right story. If you don’t know how to love and lead kids, then ask Him.”
“Don’t you think I have been asking?”
“I don’t claim to know why He answers sometimes and why He remains silent sometimes. All I do know is that God didn’t give you a dream to yank it away at the first hint of failure. He gave it to you because He wants to know you and you to know Him.”
He picked up the papers and riffled through them. “You really think the ending is that bad?”
“It isn’t bad because of what happens—it’s bittersweet, but I can live with it. It’s bad because it’s flat and lifeless, and I’m guessing not a lot of time or heart was put into it.”
“Guilty.” He dropped the paper back on the coffee table and ran his fingers roughly through his hair.
She stood and walked to the door. “I have to head back.”
“You’re leaving already?” He stood and followed her.
“I have a dance to prepare for. I just came up here because I refused to let you throw away your career because you felt unworthy. You’re not.”
“About us. I was—”
“No.”
Everything in him turned cold. “No?”
“I love you. And I have for a long time. But this is the second time you retreated when things got rough. You didn’t even trust I knew my own heart.”
“I know I was dumb about Greyson. I—”
“But don’t you see? First it was Liam between us, then Victor Holt was between us, now this. There will always be things that can come between us if you let them. If you don’t trust and really believe that I love you, I can’t spend my life trying to convince you that you’re enough for me. I won’t fight for you—for us—alone.”
Before he could answer, she slipped out the door and hurried down to Liam’s old Bronco. Everything in him itched to go after her. To beg her to stay. To promise to do better. But she didn’t want him to promise to do better. She wanted to see him do better. She wanted him to fight. Fight for his story. Fight for her.
You don’t even realize that you wrote the solution to save Rand and save Victor Holt into your story…Astryn needs to trust in Origin’s power to save Rand. She was right, he hadn’t even realized that he’d woven it in. God had started showing up long before today. In fact, if Logan took stock of his life, God had shown up again and again. Not because Logan was perfect, but because he was loved. Because he was enough for God. And Devin was right, it was time to trust that He would show up again and again.
A plan began to form. He picked up the papers again and carried them to his laptop. He settled into the chair and let his fingers hover over the keys. Okay, God. I got nothing. I need You to show up. Again.
Funny thing about going after what he wanted, Logan wanted it all right now. Patience had never been such a struggle. Logan turned his Bronco into his parents’ driveway and resisted the urge to drive to the heart of town and track Devin down. He had every intention of doing that, but this was about more than Devin. He knew that, and she knew it too. It was about him reclaiming who he was meant to be. It was about trusting that if God led him somewhere, God would see him through.
Logan shoved the Bronco into park and opened his laptop. Maybe he should go in, but first he wanted to respond to the four writing samples of potential ghostwriters that had arrived in his inbox as he was driving down.
Sandy, Thank you for taking the time to send me these. I appreciate all you have given to this series. But I have decided this isn’t the way I want to go. I don’t have the fourth book figured out yet, but I will. And it will be the best book yet, you can count on that. Let’s talk after the New Year. Logan.
He sent it, then sent the new final chapter to Christina before climbing out of his vehicle and letting Cal free from the back. He grabbed his bag from the passenger seat, then hurried up the porch, offering two quick knocks before walking in. “Hello?”
“Logan.” His mom came around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her face splitting into a smile upon seeing him. She gave him a quick hug and dropped a kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, Mom.” He set his bag by the door and pulled her back for a longer hug.
“Of course.” She patted his arm. “It’s what mothers do.”
He leaned back but didn’t drop his arms. “No, really. Thank you for coming up there. Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you for always making us kids a priority.”
Moisture gathered in her eyes. “You four kids are my greatest accomplishment. Every one of you brings something unique and special into this family. Liam brings the humor and adventure, Luke brings a steady peace and strength, Libby brings color and joy. You, my son, bring truth and light to everyone around you. It’s been a little darker without you around, and I’m glad you are back.”
He dropped a kiss on his mom’s head. “Love you, Mom.”
He took off his coat and headed into the living room as Tyce barreled into him. “You’re back!”
“I am.” Logan caught him and scooped him up. The kid had on khakis and a red sweater vest over a collared white shirt. “You looked dressed for a party.”
Tyce made a face. “It’s a dance.”
“And I got a dress.” Alani spoke softly from the doorway as she spun in a circle. The red sparkles of her skirt picked up the light from the entryway.
Logan set Tyce down and focused on the girl. “It is the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. And I love the matching bow in your hair.”
She grinned wide as she reached up and touched the bow, then twirled around again.
Easton stood about five feet behind Alani in a dark-green sweater. His hands were in the pockets of his black dress pants and his face like stone. “You left. You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Understatement of the year. “Can we talk? Man to man.”
“Why don’t you two go up and find your shoes.” His mom ushered the younger two up the stairs, then followed them.
Easton regarded Logan a moment, then turned back toward the great room. Logan followed him over to the bookshelf, where Easton sat in one of the wingback chairs. Logan chose the other.
Easton held himself stiff, but the pain in his eyes nearly broke Logan. “It was wrong of me to leave without saying goodbye. I’m really sorry, and I’ll never do anything like that again. It had nothing to do with you.”
Easton seemed to roll the idea around, then twisted his hands in his lap. “I guess you know the Barlows didn’t want us.” Easton’s voice cracked. “I told you they didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. So sorry.” Logan wanted to tell him that there was still a good future for him. And that moment would come, but right now the kid just needed someone to see his pain.
“I knew it was coming.” He shrugged and angled his head toward the books, trying to disguise the fact he was wiping away a tear. “Like I said. No one wants three kids all at once.”
“I know for a fact that isn’t true.”
Easton scoffed. “Yeah sure, would you want us?”
“Yes.”
Easton’s eyes jerked toward his. There was a touch of wariness to the expression, but there was something more. Hope, maybe.
He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. He leaned his elbows down on his knees. “I know I failed you and left. I don’t deserve a second chance, but adopting you three has been on my heart for a while now. It’s something I really want. Before, I didn’t understand why I felt that way, because you weren’t available. But now—”
“Now we are.” Easton’s face twisted in doubt. “But we can be a lot. That’s why nobody wants us. We’re not exactly perfect.”
“Neither am I. Far from it. But I do want you. I don’t even know a whole lot about parenting, so the better question is, do you want me to be your dad?” The question hung out there a moment. Dad. That was the first time he’d spoken it out loud, but nothing had felt more right. Logan held his breath. It wasn’t just choosing them. He wanted them to choose him.
“Where would we live?”
“I’m going to build a house not too far from here.”
Easton’s head tilted. “What about Devin? I know you like her. Would she be our mom?”
An uneasiness settled in Logan’s chest. Maybe alone he couldn’t be enough for them, but right now that was all he could offer.
“I do like Devin. I love her. But I messed up there too, and I need to try to fix that. But I don’t know if I can. There’s no guarantee. But regardless of what happens with Devin, I do want to be your dad, but only if you want me to. If you want to wait to find out first how things go with Devin and me, I understand. After all, if it doesn’t work out with Devin, you could be stuck with just me.”
A slow smile spread across Easton’s face. “Devin’s cool, but I’m okay with being stuck with just you. As long as you’re okay being stuck with us three.”
“More than okay.” He pulled Easton into a quick hug, then ruffled his hair. “Think we should get Alani and Tyce and tell them?”
Easton studied him for a moment. “Not yet. I think I need to see where you’re going to build your house first. Make sure it is a good place for us.”
Logan struggled to keep the smile from his face. He loved the way Easton watched out for the other two. They had all been hurt by the Barlows, and he had no doubt just wanted to protect them. But Luke would prove to Easton that he was trustworthy. Might even let him help make a few of the decisions on the house.
“We’re back.” Tyce ran into the room, followed by Alani. “What did we miss?”
“Logan was just about to tell me his plan to fix things with Devin.” Easton stared him down. “Right?”
Right.
Alani walked up to him much like she had done when he was Santa. He pulled her up on his lap, and she cuddled into his shoulder.
