God's Gift

Rae had been friendly, polite, and slightly flustered at the idea of interrupting a family reunion by staying for dinner. But the lightness and the laughter and the smile she had shown this evening had seemed forced. When she laughed, it didn’t reach her eyes.

James had seen grief tempered by time before. He knew he was seeing it again.

The picture on the nightstand was the last thing Rae saw before she turned off the bedside light. Leo, his arm thrown around her, grinning. They had just won the skiing competition at Indian Hills. Their combined times for the run had put them in first place. Rae had to smile at the memory. He had forgotten to tell her how to slow down.

Hanging by a slender ribbon looped over the corner of the frame was the engagement ring Leo had bought her.

It was after 2:00 a.m. The Japanese stock market had gone into a decline and the rest of the overseas markets had followed it down. She had spent hours at her office deciding strategy for the opening of the New York markets. She could feel the tension and the stress through her body as she tried to cope with what she knew the coming day was going to be like.

She had never missed Leo more.

Leo had loved the trading, thrived on it; she just felt the fear. There was an overwhelming number of decisions to make rapidly, simultaneously, and it wasn’t a game you could prepare for ahead of time, you just had to react to the markets and sense when to move in and out and when to hold and sweat it out. She would be back at her desk in three hours; she already wanted to throw up. She had never felt so angry at someone for dying as she did at Leo now.

Rae blinked back the tears and rolled onto her side to look at the moon visible over the trees.

God, why did Leo have to die? Why did he have to be driving too fast? If he hadn’t chosen that road, at that time, he would be here tonight, as my husband, sound asleep beside me. He would be looking forward to facing the markets tomorrow, instead of dreading it.

God, I miss him so much. Is this ever going to end?

Please, I can’t afford to play “I wish” tonight. I need some sleep. I need the ability to act decisively and with speed tomorrow. There are thirty clients depending on my actions, and six employees who are going to be taking their cues from me. I’m going to need Your help tomorrow. Remember me, Lord. I’m depending on You.

Chapter Two

“Lace, I’ve got too much work to do. I can’t afford the time to go with you guys on vacation.”

It was Saturday and Lace had come over early to drag Rae out of the house for a walk down to the park and back. Rae had groused about being woken up on the one morning she could sleep in, but now followed Lace down the path with the loyalty of a friend reluctantly conceding defeat. By the time she had convinced Lace she really should be allowed to sleep in, she had already been fully awake.

As she brushed her hair before the mirror, pulling it back into a ponytail, she noticed dark circles under her eyes. She heard Lace in the kitchen.

Rae didn’t know what Lace had hoped to find. There was nothing left in the house. She had taken the last of the saltines to work with her to try to settle her stomach, ordered in food there when she got hungry. It had been an eighty-hour work week and it was only Saturday. She needed sleep, not exercise.

She had survived. It was the only good thing she could say about the week. The managed funds had crept up 1.24 percent against an index that had dropped two percent. She had traded her way out of the correction quite admirably.

Lace had insisted they stop for breakfast before they walked to the park. She had also frowned at the sweats Rae wore, but hadn’t pushed it. Lace was saving her energy for another round of negotiations about their vacation.

They had been going on vacation together ever since their college days—Leo, Rae, Lace and Dave, plus whoever else they could tempt to come along. Rae loved the week in the country, fishing, hiking, relaxing. She just didn’t see how it was possible to go this year; it had not been possible last year, and fundamentally, nothing had changed.

“Jack wouldn’t mind coming out of retirement for a week to keep tabs on the accounts.”

“Lace, it’s not that simple.”

The path widened and Lace dropped back beside her.

“Make it that simple. Rae, if you don’t slow down, you’re going to burn out. Do you honestly think Leo would have wanted this?”

Rae stopped walking, blinking away the unexpected tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch a raw memory,” Lace said, her arm slipping around Rae’s shoulders.

Rae nodded, knowing it was true. There was deep sympathy in her friend’s eyes; Lace would hand over part of her own heart if she thought it would cure the pain. “I’m doing exactly what I have to, Lace. Keeping the business together while I look for a new partner to replace him. And you are right. Leo thrived on the day-to-day trading. For me, it’s nerve racking. But I’m not working any harder than he did.”

“He took breaks, Rae. You don’t. If you don’t stop soon, you’re going to crash. Please, you need to come with us on vacation this year.”

“The bridge games are just not the same without you,” Lace added when Rae hesitated, dragging a smile from her. “Tell me you will at least think about it?”

Rae hugged her friend back and started walking down the trail again. “If I say no, is Dave going to be showing up at my door?”

“Now, would I do that?”

They had been best friends since Rae was nine years old, the year Rae’s parents had died and she had come to live with her grandmother. Lace had lived down the street. They had a lot of history between them. Rae didn’t buy the look of innocence. “Yes, you would.”

They walked together down to the park benches where mothers could watch their children play on the swings and slides and rocking horses. Rae sat down, annoyed to admit to herself she was tired; Lace joined her on the bench. Her friend was fit and active and had the stamina to go for hours. Rae just felt old. She kicked a bottle cap on the rocks in front of the bench and watched it flip over, tilting her head to read the words inside.

“Dave says he’s going to make senior partner next month.”

Rae looked up in surprise. “How? The senior ranks are age sixty plus, he’s thirty-six.”

“He snagged some major client, and the firm is worried about the message it conveys to have a simple ‘partner’ working such a major account.”

Rae laughed and the sound was rusty but felt good. “He got the Hamilton estate.”

“Hamilton Electronics?”

“That’s the one.”

Even Lace looked impressed, and she didn’t impress easily.

“When is he getting back from Dallas?” Rae asked.

“Tonight. I told him I would meet his flight.”

Dave McAllister stepped off the plane from Dallas, and with a thank-you and generous tip accepted the sheaf of faxes and the ticket a courier was waiting to hand him. Then turned his wrist to glance at his watch. He had thirty-eight minutes before his flight to Los Angeles, barely time to find his luggage, get it on the right plane and check his messages, certainly not time for dinner.

There were days he hated being this good a lawyer.

“You eat, I’ll read.”

“Lace.” He felt the relief at seeing a friend’s face. She fell in step beside him, took the briefcase and papers, and handed him a chili dog. He didn’t even protest the onions and eating a chili dog in a suit. She was a lifesaver. You didn’t protest a lifesaver. Not at ten o’clock on a Saturday night.

“Jan told me about your abrupt arrive and depart schedule.”

There was amusement in her voice. Any time now she would be telling him to get a real life. He liked her too much to care. It was business. Sometimes it demanded a little sacrifice.

“Read me the important stuff,” he asked her, finishing the chili dog and wishing she had bought him two.

She was flipping pages as they walked. “Oh, here’s a good one.” She skimmed the legal document with the ease of someone who wrote a lot of them. “Your client Mr. York is going to lose his shirt.” She summarized the brief for him as they took the tunnel from terminal C to baggage claim.

“It’s smoke. They are going to ask to settle out of court.”