“I know your roots here run deep, honey.” Delia tapped her finger on the table. “And I know that God is the God of the midnight hour. Maybe we’ll get a stroke of midnight miracle.”
“Maybe.” Elisa rolled in her lower lip, fighting a wave of frustration. If Noah would just forgive her and work with her…if they could figure out the last clue before the clock ran out…
“But if not, I’m going to hold to something else I know is true.” A smile lit Delia’s wrinkled face. “That hands surrendered to the Lord are never empty for long.”
She was right—as usual. “I agree.” Elisa leaned back in her chair. “But it’s sure scary in the meantime.”
“Of course it is. For me, too. But look at all the good that’s come already from this treasure hunt and from my fall.” Delia brushed a rogue sprinkle onto the floor. “You’re mending fences with your father.Andwith the Heberts in general. Big things are happening. Don’t you see?”
It didn’t make the inevitable much easier to swallow, but she could see it. And see there was hope for the future—whatever that looked like. A bit of the burden lifted. She wasn’t alone, and never had been.
“Remember this.” Delia raised a white eyebrow and pointed at Elisa. “Blank pages are only scary when we don’t know the Author.”
Elisa let that wash over her for a moment. She liked being in control. But she couldn’t flirt her way out of this one, or conform her way back into Noah’s favor. She could only be herself, and trust the Lord to work things out the way He saw best.
Even if that looked different than how she would’ve done it. She swallowed. “Sometimes it’s hard to release the pen.”
Delia reached over and tapped her walker. “Don’t I know it, hon. But God is good, all the time. Even when there are hospitals and For Sale signs involved.”
Her conversation with Noah at the library courtyard flitted through her mind.“It’s just that things are often beyond our ability to understand this side of heaven.”She had finally gotten to a place where she could mean that about her mother. She meant it for Noah.
Now she needed to mean it for losing the diner.
She closed her eyes, releasing the rest of the lingering stress. “Thanks for being here, Mama D.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Delia patted her arm again. “Now, what’s an old lady have to do to get another donut around here?”
Elisa shoved her chair back with a laugh. “Hint taken.” She stood just as her phone chimed from her apron pocket. She tugged it free, shot a look at the screen, and widened her eyes at Delia.
A text from Noah.
Noah
Meet me at Chug a Mug at 6 a.m.
* * *
Noah stood in the pre-dawn light just inside the front door of Chug a Mug, which opened every day at 5:30 a.m. Miley was already inside, yawning, furrowing her pierced brows and scowling as she worked the espresso machine.
Perfect. The coffee he’d already ordered would be good.
He glanced at his phone, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet as his stomach churned. Elisa hadn’t texted him back. He could only hope, at this point.
Even if they were destined to be apart, he didn’t want to do this without her.
Noah turned to check the sidewalk again just as she pushed through the doorway.
Elisa stopped abruptly in the entry. “Hi….” Her hair was swept back on one side with criss-crossed pins, and icing dusted the shoulder of her purple top. Matching streaks decorated her jeans.
He breathed in her vanilla scent like a starving man. There was so much to say. So much to explain. “You look like you fought a donut.”
That wasn’t what he meant to start with.
“Don’t worry, I won.” She grinned, but it faded as she crossed her arms over her chest and huddled into herself. “I got your text.”
“Thanks for coming. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t.” His arms itched to pull her into a hug. But not yet. Not until they said everything they needed to say.
Not until he knew.