Bridge to Forever Read online

  “Sure. Gladly.” The man grabbed Damon’s hand enthusiastically. “I’m Conrad Samis. Nice to meet you.” Conrad was as tall as Damon and about the same build, but there the similarity ended. Though he spent many hours in an office, Damon’s blond looks were rugged. His face was angular and his nose slightly hooked. Tanner thought his dad looked tough, and he hoped he resembled him at least a little. Their new neighbor had darker hair, a clean-shaven face, more rounded facial features, and looked rather soft around the waist, but his grip was strong as he pumped Tanner’s hand up and down.

  Damon waved his arms above his head. “I’m signaling my wife,” he explained as they stared at him. “She wanted to be sure you needed help before rounding up more volunteers.”

  “The more, the merrier,” Conrad said. “After buying a house that’s finally large enough to fit us all comfortably, we thought we’d save money and do the moving ourselves.”

  “Well, show us where to start.”

  “Right this way.”

  Tanner followed the men, keeping a watch for the girl. He had taken in five large boxes before he found a box that led him to her. She was in the kitchen making sandwiches for a row of small, eager faces. Her mother was there, too, wiping out the refrigerator. He caught a vague impression of a slight, pretty woman with short blond hair before his attention returned to the girl.

  “Hi,” he said to her, immediately wanting to kick himself at the lack of originality. He set down the box in his arms. The word kitchen was scribbled across the front in big letters.

  “Hi.” Her smile filled her whole face, making her pretty features transform into something extraordinary.

  Tanner suddenly felt weak in the knees. He couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone with hazel eyes as beautiful as hers. Not that he was interested. She had way too many freckles for his taste.

  Her dad came in from the garage. “This is Tan,” he told the girl and her mother. “One of our new neighbors.”

  “Hi, Tan,” they said together.

  “Uh, actually, it’s Tanner. Dad has a thing with nicknames.”

  Conrad nodded. “So that’s why he keeps calling me Con.”

  “Finally, a nickname worse than Tan,” Tanner said. They all laughed at that.

  “Better beware, Karalee,” Conrad said to his wife. “He’ll be calling you Kara.”

  She shrugged. “Everyone already does, except you.”

  Conrad’s booming laugh filled the kitchen. The girl shook her head and spooned tuna onto another piece of bread.

  “How old are you anyway?” Conrad asked Tanner.

  “Sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in November.”

  “Ah, good. Heather’s sixteen, too. You can show her around when school starts.”

  “Sure.”

  The girl looked up and smiled again but didn’t say anything, so Tanner had no choice but to return to the moving van for another load. His step-brother Bryan had come to help. Though he was three years younger than Tanner, he was solid and could carry a large load. Tanner searched until he found another box marked kitchen and then carried it inside. But Heather had disappeared again.

  “Want a sandwich?” asked Karalee Samis.

  He shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  More cars began arriving and soon it seemed everyone from church had come to help. Box after box found a place in the house, which wasn’t nearly as large inside as Tanner had assumed. When at last they finished, Tanner was breathing hard and wiping sweat from his brow. He wondered if anyone had noticed how hard he’d worked—not that he wanted anyone in particular to notice.

  His step-mother Mickelle had arrived and was busily helping unpack boxes in the kitchen. Tanner heard her invite the Samises to dinner.

  The girl still had not reappeared, but he could hear the thump, thump, thump of a basketball outside. He went to investigate. To his surprise, Heather was shooting at the basket hooked to the Samis’s garage. She paused, aimed, and sent the ball arcing toward the basket with more grace than he ever hoped to achieve.

  “Nice!” he said as the ball slipped through the net.

  She reddened slightly, retrieved the ball, and sent it his way. “One-on-one?”

  He nodded and went for the basket.

  As he dribbled, she managed to steal the ball and make a basket. She sent a satisfied smirk his way.

  Enough of being nice, he thought. He couldn’t let a girl beat him—no matter how cute she was.

  When they finally dropped to the ground thirty minutes later, too exhausted to move, the score was tied. Tanner had never been a star at basketball, but he had always held his own. He had to admit—if only to himself—that she might be better at the game.

  With the bottom of his T-shirt, he wiped the sweat dribbling down his forehead. “So, you want to get an ice cream?”

  “Sure. I just need to let my mom know where I’ll be.”

  They went to his house for his restored blue Volkswagen Bug. “Cool,” she said. “This car’s a classic.”

  “Yep.” He opened the door for her, but she was looking around at the garage, obviously noting the large size, as well as the Lexus and the Mercedes. For the first time, Tanner wondered if his father’s all-too-apparent wealth would be a plus or a minus in his relationship with Heather.

  In the end, it didn’t weigh in at all. Tanner and Heather became friends—best friends. Since one of Tanner’s two friends had recently moved, and the other was seriously dating a girl, he needed another friend. Being new, so did she. Romance didn’t really fit into it.

  Years later after they had both finished college, Tanner would wonder if that basketball game on the day they met had something to do with their friendship status. If he’d played better, would she have looked at him differently? What if they hadn’t played at all? What if he’d told her in the Bug when they went to get ice cream that she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen?

  He would never know.

  But what developed between them was better than romance—at least at their age. From that day on, they were almost inseparable. They played tennis and basketball together, swam together, hung out at school dances together. They also dreamed together—him of graduating from college and becoming an executive in his father’s software company, and her of painting great masterpieces.

  In high school, he helped her through her math and science classes, and she helped him with any projects that involved imagination. She went to Junior Prom with a boy named Jason Pruitt, and he went with Amanda Huntington.

  Their friendship was precious to Tanner. Though eventually he and Amanda stopped dating, Heather remained his constant friend. Their last year in high school found them both without a date for the senior prom so they decided to go together.

  Again, Tanner would later wonder if the magic of that dance might have changed their future, perhaps pushing their friendship onto another road. But that night her mother went into labor with baby number nine. Heather and Tanner missed the dance to be at the hospital.

  After high school, there was college. Since Tanner had finished so many AP courses in high school, he started at Brigham Young University as a junior. Though he continued to live at home, school was rigorous, and he had less time to spend with Heather. When they did find the opportunity to be together, he usually helped her with her G.E. classes at Utah Valley University. She struggled with many of her courses, not because she didn’t understand the material, but because she had no desire for anything except her art.

  When he decided to serve as a missionary in Japan, they continued to encourage each other with letters. While he was gone, her mother had baby number ten. Heather received her own call to serve as a missionary in Italy before he came home, and she left two months after his return. Her youngest sister was only a year old.

  Tanner moved to an apartment in Provo and immersed himself in his studies at BYU. After another year, he graduated and went to work full time for his father’s company. He bought a condo in Orem six months l
ater. When Heather returned from Italy, he was in Japan on business. That month, her mother had a miscarriage.

  Upon arriving home, Heather immediately signed up for college again, this time at BYU. She didn’t need Tanner’s help now, since her classes were mostly art. She thrived. She spent half of Christmas vacation in Boston with a group of art students, soaking up culture. He was happy for her opportunity. Her excitement about her work showed in her face, and she radiated a beauty that reminded Tanner of the first day they met.

  On Christmas Day, he went to her house to give her a present of a soft purple sweater he’d purchased in Japan. His heart leapt in his chest when he saw her. He couldn’t take his eyes from her face, and he realized immediately that something inside him had changed. Had she always been this beautiful? Had he been too blind to notice?

  As she told him about her Boston experience, the regrets and questions began in his mind. Why hadn’t he told her how beautiful her eyes were when they had first met? Or how happy he was when he was with her? Why had he never tried to kiss her? He wanted to kiss her that day—badly. But he didn’t. They were just friends—how could he change the rules now?

  Heather graduated in April. A few days later, Tanner left for a two-week business trip to Japan.

  For the first time, Japan didn’t hold any pleasure for him. Tanner thought only of Heather and how he would rather be with her. He knew he loved her. He finally understood that friendship was the base of a successful romantic relationship. Love didn’t mean beauty—although she was beautiful to him—and love wasn’t merely physical attraction. Love was also friendship, respect, trust, and perhaps most importantly, a spiritual connection.

  He vowed to confess his feelings when he returned home. No more wasted time. Maybe now his friendship with the girl next door would become the relationship he’d always dreamed of sharing with the woman he loved.

  Chapter One

  Heather sat on her bed clutching a shirt that belonged to the pile of dirty clothes she needed to wash before leaving. Her eyes stung with unbidden tears. She had told everyone of her decision, everyone except Tanner. For some reason she dreaded telling him.

  She forced a laugh. What was she thinking? Tanner was her best friend; he would be happy to hear that her dreams were coming true. He knew how much it meant for her to paint. Of course, this time her news was different from anything she’d shared with him before. This time she was leaving Utah for good.

  Her room was oddly quiet. Ten years separated Heather from Kathryn, the next girl in the family, so Heather had always enjoyed a room alone. Yet she could usually hear noise coming from the rest of the house—noise that had often made it difficult for her to concentrate even in the privacy of her own room. With ten children in their family, something was always happening. Today the silence seemed to signal that fate agreed with her plans to leave everything and everyone behind.

  Sighing, she returned to the sorting job at hand. One pile to pass on to her younger sisters, one smaller pile to become rags, another pile to take with her. She removed the battered suitcases from the top shelf in her closet. They still held stickers from her trip to Boston last winter, but packing them now reminded her more of leaving for Italy.

  She closed her eyes tightly as the memories of her time as a missionary rushed back. She had loved being in a country that had inspired so many famous painters, but what she most remembered was the Spirit. She had known without a doubt then that she was following the right path by holding tightly to the gospel.

  Why couldn’t she get that feeling back now?

  Part of the problem was her own attitude. She didn’t seem to see things the way most members of her church saw them. Everything was either very black or very white to them. Modest clothing, short hair for men, best dress to church. No smoking, drinking, or drugs. No extra earrings or tattoos. Assigned visits faithfully done—never mind that it was on the last day of the month. And if someone dared to flout even the smallest part of this checklist, they simply didn’t make the grade.

  But Heather had learned that compliance to “the list” was often an outward show for some members. In her college and mission experiences, she had met people to whom she could trust her life, and yet they were shunned because of their outward appearances. She’d also met people who appeared to be pious but were dishonest in their hearts and in their daily lives. How many so-called religious men had tried to make inappropriate advances toward her on their dates, blaming their lack of self-control on her supposed beauty? How many of her artist friends had been swindled by “upright” moral business men who stole their work in return for peanuts?

  Yes, people were flawed and not the gospel—she believed that with all her heart. And yet, how could so much of the so-called religious culture leave her feeling this disoriented? What she needed was time away. Time to find whatever was she was seeking.

  A loud thump sounded in the next room, which had been used by the three boys between her and Kathryn until Jacob left to be a missionary in the Philippines. Now only Kevin and Aaron shared the space. Each of the other children also roomed with another sibling: Kathryn and Alison, Brett and Evan, Mindy and little Jane. Heather knew the family would be glad of her room when she left. She had moved out on her own several times over the past few years, but this semester all her money had gone for tuition. Besides, the light from the large windows made this room perfect for painting.

  A door slammed and she heard footsteps in the hall. “You’re such a jerk!” someone screamed.

  “Not me. You’re the one who cheated!”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Another argument among her siblings. They didn’t fight more than any other family, but with so many children there was always one disturbance or another. One thing for sure, she couldn’t paint here anymore. Boston was calling for more reasons than one.

  The voices faded as the boys moved down the stairs, likely looking for a referee. Her poor mother would have to deal with them. Heather smiled grudgingly. Resolving arguments was something her mother was good at. No doubt both boys would be out cleaning the garage together in record time. At least it was a nice day for it.

  Heather glanced out her window at the Wolfe house next door. May flowers were already in full bloom in the many flowerbeds, and rosebuds covered the white-painted wooden railings on the porch that wrapped around one of the turrets. Tall birch and lofty walnut trees lined the drive and were also scattered appealingly around the yard. She loved the Wolfe house. The turrets on the Victorian mansion brought to her mind an ancient castle, and more than once she had felt a desire to paint it, but she had always needed to finish some other project first for school.

  Urgently, she grabbed her camera from her dresser and snapped a dozen photographs in quick succession. Then—as if appearing by its own volition—her large sketch book was in hand, her pencil darting over the page. Later the developed photographs would help her get the colors just right, but for now she would draw the feeling of the house. Because her own house was set at a slight angle, and the birch and walnut trees were spaced widely apart, she had a wonderful view of the Wolfe house—one she never wanted to forget. That house, and especially Tanner, had meant so much to her over the years. Of course, since purchasing his condo in Orem, he technically no longer lived there.

  Before she left, she still had to face Tanner, who was due home from a business trip to Japan tonight. She’d considered scheduling her flight so that she would be gone before he returned, but felt she owed him a goodbye. Without him, the past seven years here would have been bleak. He’d taken place of the sister she should have had closer in age, something her brothers had never been able to do, and filled the role of best friend and confidant. He had helped her locate reality when she longed only to be in the clouds. She would miss him more than anyone else, even two-year-old Jane. But now was the time for her to leave. Before there were no more choices left.

  * * *

  Tanner knew the ring was exactly right. The thick ban
d was made of woven white and yellow gold, with one-of-a-kind etchings done by a skillful Japanese artist. Heather would appreciate the intricate design, even if her eyebrows raised at the large diamond he’d made the jeweler put into the piece. He couldn’t completely escape his culture; men in America offered their future brides diamonds, and Heather would have the best.

  With a last peek at the ring, Tanner slipped it into its box and lifted the back of his seat in preparation for landing at the Salt Lake City airport. He couldn’t wait to see Heather tonight; he was finally going to tell her how he felt. Since his awakening in December, he’d let five long months go by—painful months for him.

  Heather had apparently been oblivious to his inner turmoil, which said a lot because she had always before sensed how he felt. He decided that her intense school schedule had put a wedge between them and let it ride. Now that they were both graduated, it was time to go on with their lives. They could have a home, a family. Heather would be a wonderful mother—just as she was a wonderful older sister to her many siblings. He would work, she would paint. They would love and laugh and grow old together.

  He shook his head at his own sentimentality. He still honestly didn’t know what response Heather would give to his proposal, but he hoped that in the past few months since Christmas she had also experienced some of these same feelings toward him. Though her last semester had been busy, he distinctly remembered a special night of dinner and dancing. Holding her in his arms, he had been completely happy.

  He would have spoken that night—the feeling had been right—but some of her artist friends had arrived partway through the evening and invited themselves to their table. Tanner hadn’t minded because Heather seemed so content, and he honestly enjoyed the company of her friends. They were talented and dedicated to their work, if not very good at money matters or contracts, which were his forte.

  Tonight there would be only the two of them, with no distractions. Her e-mail had said that she would go to dinner with him, and this time he’d taken steps to assure they remained alone.