Lambert's Peace (4 page)

As the jet taxied off the runway in Charlotte, Taylor settled in her seat, breathing a sigh of relief. She'd had an exceptional day. She loved the staff of Conrad & Associates. They were talented, enthusiastic, and reaching for the stars.

Taylor's interview with her potential boss, Katie Myers, Conrad's partner over investments and accounting, went exceptionally well.

Leaning her head against the side of the plane, she peered out the window. “Lord, this felt so right.”

But was it right? Taylor drew a deep breath, twisted in her seat, and fought off a pang of anxiety. She needed this job. She needed to get her career back on track or fall by the wayside. Taylor exhaled, trying not to obsess.

As she tipped her head back against her seat, she thought of home. Her mother's cooking, her father's colorful tales from the workday, her brother Tim and his wife, Dana … Their children Claire, Jarred, and Quentin …

She'd missed a lot of family time over the years while chasing a corporate CPA career. She'd also missed a lot of time talking to Jesus. How easily the issues of life, busyness, and work overshadowed her desire to know Him more.

Suddenly, an image of Will bounced into her thoughts. She grinned, eyes still closed, remembering their basketball game.
That was fun
.

Jerky, faded images from her past rolled across her mind like an old-time picture show. A collage of all her times with Will, one scene playing after another until she wondered if she'd ever had a life without him.

She opened her eyes with a start and sat forward, shaking the images loose, pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead.

On Friday morning Will sat with Bobby and Ethan in the main conference room with their laptops and the third quarter financial reports, discussing plans for next year's revenue.

Ethan sighed and slumped down in his chair. “I don't know. What's the initial investment, Will? For the new business system?”

“Eth, we've got to do this. Invest money to earn money,” Bobby said, getting up for a cold soda. “Streamline our inventory and accounting.”

“Would you grab me one, too?” Will said, holding out his hand. Across from him, Ethan stared at the ceiling. “What's your hesitation, Ethan?”

Ethan motioned to all the data on the table. “I convinced you guys to spend thousands of dollars to retool half the shop last year, and we still haven't gotten a return on that investment.” He flicked at one of the reports. “At least not according to these records.”

Bobby handed Will a cold soda. “The summer was slower than usual. But, Ethan, we've got to grow the business office or we can't launch our e-business. When I met with Web Warehouse last week to approve the new site they are designing, I was convinced we made the right decision to create a web store.”

Ethan shook his head. “I know, I know. But installing a new business system will take a ton of time. We'll have to train the financial staff and all the supervisors and team leads.”

Will popped the soda top and stood. “We've got enough in the capital budget for overtime and training.” Will looked at Bobby, then Ethan. “We have to do this.”

“Will, we make furniture. Beautiful, fine furniture,” Ethan said. “We know nothing about installing a new accounting system. It will overload Markie.”

Will grinned. “Markie wants this more than I do. She tells me every day we're holding the accounting system together with twine.”

Ethan moaned. “You're right.”

“She's a good financial manager. If she says we need a new system, we need a new system.”

Bobby agreed. “You're right. Let's do it.”

Ethan sat forward, gathered his reports, and powered down his laptop. “We have the new warehouse only half to capacity. It wouldn't hurt to get the e-business running full steam.”

Will nodded. “Now you're thinking like a CEO, Eth.”

Ethan stuffed his bag with the production reports and his computer. “Yeah, that's what I was going for, Will.” He laughed. “I'll see you. I've got a to-do list a mile long, and Julie and I are meeting her folks for dinner.”

Bobby picked up his laptop. “Will, I'll call Hayes Business Systems and tell them we're ready to deal.”

“Thanks, Bobby. I'll get with Markie and look over the schedule to see when would be the best time to do an installation.” Will sat down, feeling the weight of the company's success on his shoulders for the first time in a long time. He sighed.

Bobby stopped in the doorway. “When we took over this company, we promised ourselves we'd be innovative and take risks.”

“I know, and we're keeping that promise.”

Will was deep in thought when the emergency buzzer resounded from the manufacturing floor. He jumped from his chair and ran into his office, Bobby coming in right behind. Together, they peered through the long production window.

Several workers huddled around a fallen man. Grant. Will stormed out and down the metal stairs to where Grant lay on the cold production floor.

Will shoved his way into the huddle where a crew member checked the vitals on an unconscious, pallid Grant.

“He just collapsed,” someone said.

“We called 9-1-1,” added another.

When the paramedics arrived, they took over. The flurry of activity never stopped, and as the paramedics loaded Grant into the ambulance, an oxygen mask on his face, Will snatched up his cell phone and dialed the Hansons'. “Trixie, it's Will Adams.” He tried to sound cheerful, but his voice choked as the sirens wailed.

“Will?” Trixie's voice quivered.

“Grant collapsed.”

“He has to be all right. He has to be.”

“Mom, he will be.” Taylor guided her distraught mother through the ER doors where Will waited for them.

“Will, how is he?” Trixie pressed her hand on his arm.

“Better. I'll take you to him.” Will glanced over his shoulder at Taylor. “The doctor said just one visitor at a time until he goes up to his room.”

“Of course.” Taylor watched her frightened mother disappear down the hall, Will's arm around her shoulders.
God, not Daddy. Don't take him home now
.

She sat in a worn waiting room chair, flipping absently through a celebrity magazine, feeling as if everything in her life teetered on the brink of disaster.

She tossed the magazine aside and looked up as Will walked toward her. He exuded such a confidence and peace; his presence was like a cool glass of water at the end of a long, hot day. When life buzzed with confusion, Will brought clarity.

“Your dad was glad to see your mom,” Will said, his blue eyes steady on her as he sat in the adjacent chair.

She smiled though her bottom lip trembled. “How is he?”

“He's going to be fine, Taylor.” Will pressed his hand on her back.

“He looked so pale at dinner the other night.” Taylor covered her face with her hands. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to be strong for Mom.

“Hey, hey.” Will cradled her head on his shoulder, stroking her hair. “Let's go sit someplace quiet.”

Taylor followed him to the chapel, enjoying the sensation of being led. She spent so much of her time the last ten years out front, directing, leading.

The interior of the chapel was peaceful, but cool. Taylor shivered, rubbing her hands along her arms.

“We left in such a hurry I forgot my jacket.”

“Guess they don't turn the heat up in here.” Will shrugged out of his coat and draped it over Taylor's shoulders.

“Now you'll be cold,” Taylor said, settling in the last of the red-cushioned pews.

“Don't worry about me.” He sat in the pew in front of hers, angled sideways to see her.

Taylor regarded him for a moment. She loved the symmetry of his face. It was as if the Lord took extra care in aligning his features. And his skin … Most of her girlfriends paid top dollar for something he probably took for granted and washed with deodorant soap.

“What?” Will asked.

Taylor glanced away. “What?”

“You were staring at me.”

Taylor bit her lower lip, her gaze downcast. “Now why would I stare at you, Will Adams?”

He chuckled. “You tell me. Do I have something on my face, in my teeth? Is my hair sticking up?”

Taylor smiled. “No, no. If you must know, I was thinking what great skin you have. It's downright wrong for a man to have such small pores.”

Will laughed. “You're very strange, Taylor.”

“I know, but that's why you love me.” Taylor meant for the words to sound light and airy, like a joke, but they came with an echo from a deep, hidden place in her soul. She squirmed.

“I suppose you're right,” Will said, his words weighty and real, as if emerging from a dark corridor of time.

When their eyes met, he coughed and twisted around. Taylor's heart thumped in her chest.

They sat in silence for the next few minutes. Taylor wondered what he was thinking but didn't want to ask. Not now, not here.

He got up and walked toward the front of the chapel. She could see his lips moving in prayer.

Taylor wanted to pray, but inner turmoil stifled her words.

“Did you call your brother?” Will asked as he turned to her.

Taylor made a face. “No, I completely forgot.” She dug her cell phone from her purse and stepped into the hallway.

Outside the door, she paused for a moment, trembling. She inhaled a cleansing breath.
It's been ten years, Will. Ten years and you still get to me. Still
.

With a press of a few buttons, she dialed her brother. “Tim, Dad's in the hospital.”

Will watched Taylor through the narrow window in the chapel door. What was he thinking? He'd practically told her he loved her.

Did he love her? And what about her comment “that's why you love me”? Did she love him? They barely knew each other anymore.

Will paced up the chapel aisle, wondering how long she'd be in town. If she hung around too long, he felt confident he'd fall in love with her—if he'd ever stopped loving her in the first place.

“Tim's on his way,” Taylor said when she reentered the chapel, dropping her cell phone in her bag.

Will nodded. “Good.” He recognized her purse as a famous designer bag. Elle had bought one a few years ago. He remembered his brother and sister-in-law had waged war over the price of that bag for two days.

He guessed Taylor's New York City CPA salary afforded her those kinds of amenities.

Will grinned. She looked good in his jacket. Absently, he reached up and straightened the collar. “We were supposed to have pizza tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “You're right.” She motioned over her shoulder. “I hear the food here is terrible, but I'm buying if you're game.”

Will made a face. “Are you kidding me? Our deal was for Giuseppe's. I'm not cashing in for hospital grub.”

Taylor shrugged playfully. “Fine, then you can buy.”

“Fine.” Will bumped her as they walked toward the door, shoulder to shoulder.

She smiled at him, grabbed her purse from the pew, and bumped him back.

In the cafeteria, they ordered burgers and fries and large diet sodas.

Will bit into his hamburger. “Hmm. I thought you said the food here was terrible.”

Taylor shook her head. “No, I said I
heard
the food was terrible.”

He laughed. “Well, now we know you
heard
wrong.”

“Yum, you could bring me on a date here.” She glanced up quickly, as if catching her words.

“I will.”

“I mean in general—
you
—as in …” She motioned with her hand, sitting with her back stiff. “People in general, could, um …” She coughed.

“Exit, stage left.”

Her shoulders collapsed. “I think I will.” She sipped her soda. “So, did you ever get your MBA?”

Will swallowed and wiped his mouth with his napkin, his heart thumping a little harder. Another pointer back to that night on the bridge. “Yes.”