“I needed to square things with Wilkie. Get my replacements trained and on their way to Milwaukee. And I didn’t want to come back to you empty-handed. Gray and I have been working on obtaining the perfect birthday gift, and it took a little more effort than expected. I hope I wasn’t too forward in buying it. I don’t know if you’ll like it or—”
“I’ll like it,” she interrupted. Maybe it was foolish, but receiving gifts always thrilled her, no matter how big or small, and the fact that Nathaniel was willing to walk away from Milwaukee still had her over the moon. He could buy her a stick of gum and she’d love it.
“Your brother helped pay for it, so he deserves a lot of the credit,” Nathaniel said. “It’s over there.” He nodded to the boxy object he’d tossed the piece of canvas over when she arrived.
“Can I open it now?”
He nodded, his trepidation growing ever more apparent. She stood and walked to the canvas, lifting it away, and almost fainted when she recognized what it hid.
“Where did you get this?” she gasped.
“From the Corcoran.”
It was Vermeer’s painting of the lady reading a letter. The breath left her in a rush. Her heart felt full to overflowing, and she was speechless.
Nathaniel closed the distance between them and took her hand. “I’ll never forget what you said about this painting. How it’s about loyalty and the importance of hope, even in a sometimes bleak and dark world. Your brother is a brilliant negotiator. It took some haggling to convince the director to sell it to us, but we got there in the end.”
Before she could say anything, Nathaniel lifted away more of the canvas, revealing the painting of the girl with the rabbit behind the Vermeer.
“This one is a fake,” he said. “I was finally able to prove it to the director of the museum, and he wanted it off his walls.”
“I love it,” she said. “I love them both and I love you. I’ll never forget that day in the museum. It was when I first glimpsed that soul of an artist you’ve got hidden deep inside. It was when I started falling in love with you.”
Her knees were losing strength. She felt overwhelmed and plopped down into the only available chair, hand clutched over her heart as she gazed at the Vermeer, awed that he’d gotten it for her.
And the fake one of the girl with the rabbit. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked at it, for it was charming and silly and she loved it, even if it was a fake.
She nodded to it. “Are you going to track down the artist who made that counterfeit Vermeer?”
“Only if you want me to.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You’re willing to let him get away?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he sent her a gentle smile. “I can’t solve all the crimes in the world. I used to think my highest calling was to put duty before all else. I’ve learned a few things over the past month. Life is short. We can’t know what it holds in store for us, but I won’t ever take you for granted again. I asked to be demoted back down to this office because it means I’ll be able to put you first. I’ll be able to stay in Washington. I love you too much to risk letting a job stand in the way of making you happy.”
Her breathing became ragged again. “Don’t make me cry,” she sniffled. “I’ve cried far too much in the past few weeks.”
He rushed to kneel at her side. “When have you cried?”
His voice was achingly soft as he cradled her in his arms. Too many memories flashed through her mind to form them into a sentence. The president’s death. The fallout with Ida. Luke. All of it had been such a chaotic whirlwind of emotion,but the strangest thing was, when she looked at Nathaniel and he touched the side of her face, it was as if they communicated without words. He’d been at her side for all of it. He knew. He understood.
“I know everyone hates Ida,” she whispered, “but she adored the president, and they had a wonderful marriage. How quickly it all ended for them. Any day could be our last, but God never promised us more. Only a time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to mourn and a time to dance. I can accept that. I just don’t want to do it alone.”
He squeezed her hands and touched his forehead to hers. “Then why don’t you marry me, and we can do all those things together?”
She laughed. It was a gulpy, tearful laugh, but a real one. Nathaniel would never rival the great romantics of the age, but that was part of the reason she loved him.
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said with a joyful heart.
She was ready to emerge from their season of tearing down, weeping, and mourning, and step into a time to build, to laugh, and to dance.
