Page 103 of Mistletoe and Malice
She stared at her phone. His voice still sent tingles along the back of her neck. How she would miss it after this was all over and they had no reason to stay in contact.
Her phone dinged again, and she brought up the photo of the driver’s license. Too small to see the actual photo clearly, so she emailed it to herself to check on her laptop.
It took her a couple of minutes, but she finally made it to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do something with her mop of hair. A messy bun was the perfect solution. After washing her face, she ambled into her study.
She stopped short at the sight of a huge bouquet of roses sitting on the dresser. When had those arrived? She’d spent Monday night and most of yesterday in bed, but they hadn’t been there last night.
She must have been in a deep sleep this morning since she never heard anyone come in, much less leave the gorgeous arrangement of yellow flowers. As she walked over to her desk, the pain gradually diminished. She found the card in the arrangement and pulled it out.
Thank you for your generous and life-giving gift. We so appreciate your loving spirit and open heart.
Your friends at the Theresa Blankenship Foundation
“Colton.”
Two dozen roses. The foundation would probably do something like this for all their donors, but for now, she’d savor the idea they came from Colton.
Fingering the delicate petals, she closed her eyes. Eleven days. It had been eleven days since he’d walked away. He said a little while out of her life and she’d see what she believed to be love was actually infatuation with an image.
How was it, then, every day the ache grew more intense? He might be gone bodily, but he remained in her thoughts, her dreams, and her heart.
It wasn’t a crush, an infatuation. It wasn’t gratitude or a need to feel safe. It washim. Who he was as a person. A good man. A godly man. A man who’d suffered and questioned and still come back to the Lord.
A man she could build something with if he’d give them a chance.
Her eyes opened as her mother walked into the study. “Hey, Mom.”
“You’re up.” Mom’s smile lit her face. Her mother always had an inner glow, a peace about her only God could provide. “Feeling better?”
“Yes, better. Only took me three minutes to get out of bed. Much improved over yesterday.”
“Glad to hear it. I was coming up to see if you wanted me to bring you some breakfast.”
Riley cocked her head to the side. “I think I’ll come down. I’m getting tired of this room.”
“Sounds great. Do you want to take the elevator?”
“No, let’s try the stairs. I think I’ll be all right.”
After breakfast—or brunch, since it was nearly eleven before she ate—she and Mom took advantage of a sunny early afternoon to walk through the garden and greenhouse, admiring Grandpa Kevin’s roses and orchids. He’d outdone himself this year. Maybe he’d let them use some for the head table arrangements at the New Year’s Charitable Dinner and Ball.
“I sure hope I can dance at the ball,” she said.
Mom nodded, walking arm-in-arm with her on their way back to the house. “I’m sure the soreness will be gone by then. You have two more weeks to recover.”
“Hopefully.” She yawned. “Speaking of recovering, I think I’m going to go lie down.”
“Good idea. I’ll walk you upstairs.”
They entered the house, and Riley stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the upper floor. “I think I’ll take the elevator.”
Upon returning to her room, she spotted her laptop. “The DL pic. I forgot all about that.”
She lowered herself gently into her office chair, thankful it was well-padded. After booting up her PC, she waited for her email to come up and clicked on the one she sent from her phone almost three hours earlier. She opened the attachment, then zoomed in on the face.
“Four years ago.”
Thick, shoulder-length hair, facial stubble above his lips and trailing down onto his chin. Thin face.Slight.
