by Lois Richer
Rick grabbed a towel and pressed it to his nose awkwardly with his gloved hand. It took a long time to stem the flow. Eventually it slowed down enough for him to toss away the towel and use his teeth to untie his gloves. Only then did it dawn on him that Noah hadn’t said anything.
Rick looked at the boy. Noah had paled to an unhealthy shade of white. He began to shake, his whole body twitching.
“It’s just a nosebleed, Noah. I’m fine. I should have ducked, just like I’ve been teaching you.” Rick summoned a grin, though moving even those few muscles hurt like crazy. But Noah didn’t respond.
Ripping off his gloves, Rick grasped Noah’s arm and peered into his eyes. “I’m fine. No big deal.”
“I’m s-sorry,” Noah gulped as tears coursed down his cheeks. “I’m s-so s-sorry.”
“I know.” Rick unlaced the boy’s gloves and removed them. He slid off the protective headgear he’d insisted on, wondering wryly why he hadn’t thought of it for himself. Then he wrapped an arm around Noah’s shoulder. “Let’s go get a drink.”
“D-don’t you h-have to g-go to the h-hospital?”
“For a nosebleed? You want them to laugh at me?” He held Noah’s gaze, refusing to look away as the boy searched his gaze. “I’m not made of sugar, you know.”
“I d-didn’t m-mean—”
“Noah.” Rick stopped him. “People get hurt in boxing sometimes. I warned you about that before we ever started, remember?” He waited for Noah’s nod. “Anyway, I’m fine. Almost.”
Noah flopped down on a chair in front of the windows. Rick sat down across from him.
“Want to tell me what makes you so angry you’re beating up kids at school?”
Noah’s head jerked up. “You know?”
“I’ve suspected for a while. Something’s clearly eating at you, Noah. Let’s get it out in the open.” He prayed silently for God to give him the right words. “Talk to me. I only want to help.”
“I’m not going to be hurt anymore,” Noah said in a tight voice. “I’m not going to be made fun of ever again. If someone tries, I’ll stop it.”
Aghast at the admissions he was hearing, Rick sat silent, knowing Noah needed the release this honesty would bring. But the more he heard, the more he wondered— Why? What lay beneath the boy’s pain?
The phone rang.
“Rick, is Noah still there?” Cassie’s voice, breathless and worried came across the line.
“Yes.” Just hearing her voice sent his every sense into high alert. Get in control. “I was about to take him to Lives,” Rick told her.
“No! Don’t do that.” She inhaled. “I need a very big favor. Can Noah stay with you overnight, Rick?”
“Sure. What’s the problem?”
“Meningitis.” That one word drove all other thoughts out of his head. “Daniel has symptoms of bacterial meningitis. If that’s what it is, it’s very contagious. I don’t want Noah to return to Lives and risk any more exposure than he already has. He’s okay, isn’t he?”
“He’s fine.” Rick caught Noah watching him. The kid rolled his eyes and shook his head, as if annoyed by his mother’s concern. “You take care of yourself and your patients. I’ll watch out for Noah.”
“Thank you.” Silence stretched between them for a moment, and then her voice dropped. “Rick?”
“I’m here.”
“Can you pray? Hard. All the kids were probably exposed, but if Michael catches it…” Her voice trailed away and in that moment the severity of the situation hit him full force.
Meningitis was serious. Noah and Michael had both been exposed.
But so had Cassie.
Rick felt as if the world stopped. She was around sick people all the time. Hospital viruses were often the most dangerous. She could catch this thing herself and—die?
God, no.
“I know it’s a lot to ask you,” she whispered in a broken tone. “You probably had plans for tonight and I’m ruining them and—”
“Cassie,” he said softly. “Noah and I will be praying. You can count on that. And on God,” he added, hoping to bolster her fledgling faith. “God knows what’s at stake. He’s right there with you.”
He scolded himself for falling back on a standby platitude and thought what a sham he’d become. He was supposed to be ministering to her, yet his own doubts were derailing him.
“Thank you, Rick. I mean that.”
Rick held the phone long after she’d hung up. Tenderness rushed over him in a wave of appreciation for this precious woman who took to heart the welfare of the boys at Lives and her patients while she worried for her own son.
How can I shut her out, God? How am I supposed to ignore her when my heart wants to be with her always, when every day that I don’t talk to her seems empty and dull? How can I keep my vow to You?
Why won’t You take these feelings away?
“Doesn’t Mom kn-know I’m fine?” Noah’s face contorted in a glower. “She t-treats me like a b-baby.”
“Actually she’s treating you like an adult, Noah,” Rick said. “She asked us to pray for Daniel. They think he might have caught a very serious disease.”
“Oh.” His blue eyes narrowed. “Am I g-going to g-get it?”
“I hope not, but I can’t say for sure,” Rick explained quietly. “If you get a fever or start to feel unwell, I’ll take you to the hospital right away. But for tonight your mom wants you to stay here. Okay?”
Noah nodded. “W-will she b-be okay?” he asked, uncertainty lacing his voice.
“Let’s ask God to protect her,” Rick said. But though he prayed as hard as he could, he felt as if his prayers simply bounced off the thick barriers between him and God.
Later, when Noah was asleep, words that Cassie’s father had once spoken to him returned, a strong admonition he’d given after Rick had asked for his help to get into the ministry.
“Don’t make any vows you can’t keep, son. If you’re going to promise God to do His work, to let Him use you, you’d better be prepared to deny yourself. Keeping your promises could cost far more than you ever imagined.”
For the very first time since he’d accepted Christ as his Savior, Rick regretted his promise to remain single. Worse than that, doubts about God’s purpose for him had taken root. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be in Churchill.
You don’t deserve her. How could she ever love you, the man responsible for the childhood she spent without a father? The man who cost her father his precious savings, savings that could have helped her when she was desperate for help?
This is the payment to be exacted for your greed.
Rick was willing to pay, to give up every dream he’d ever dreamed, if that was what God wanted, if it would help Cassie. But how was he to stop the sweet burst of joy that filled his heart whenever he saw her face? How was he to ignore the rush of love that burst inside like fireworks when she laughed or said his name or asked his help?
Love?
His heart stopped as the knowledge flowed through every cell of his body.
He loved Cassie Crockett.
Strong and beautiful, sweet and giving, Cassie was altogether lovely, in spirit and in action. She was everything he’d imagined a woman he’d love would be, from the moment he’d started seeing her face in his dreams so many years ago, not long after his first glance at her picture on her father’s desk. It was Cassie’s face he’d used as a model whenever he’d dreamed of being loved. Though he hadn’t known her then, it was her he imagined by his side.
Now, knowing Cassie, Rick could imagine a future brimming with joy and love, caring and giving.
And yet…
He’d made a vow. That vow meant Cassie—precious, beloved Cassie—could never be his, no matter how much his heart longed for her. All the glorious possibilities Rick had glimpsed through the years shrank and faded away as he sat shrouded in darkness and faced the truth of his future.
There could be no love to finally fill that vacant spot inside him.
No wife, no family to protect and plan for, no chance to nurture and love. He could have none of that because he owed a debt.
Hours passed as Rick struggled to surrender the love that beckoned him to forsake his faith and follow his heart. Finally, aching and empty, he let go of it all.
Your will, God. I will do Your will.
Chapter Twelve
“Daniel’s going to be fine. It isn’t meningitis, it’s a virulent flu,” Cassie told Rick over the phone.
The reassuring knowledge that Rick was there to listen, to care, to help, sent sweet joy to her heart. How she treasured the bond of sharing with him.
“Thank God,” he said, and she knew he meant it.
“Yes. We’ve seen a lot more cases come in through the night, however. Did you get your flu shot this year, Rick?”
“I did.”
Cassie paused, seeing his face in her mind. Precious face, precious man. “How’s Noah?”
“He’s fine,” Rick assured her. “School has been canceled so he’s working here.”
“He had his flu shot last fall so it’s fine for you to take him back to Lives. Apparently, Daniel was the only one of the boys who hadn’t had it.” A flush of warmth suffused her. “I can’t thank you enough for stepping in last night. I appreciate all you’ve done for Noah.”
“No problem.” Rick paused then asked, “When will you finish there?”
“Not for a while. This virus has taken out a lot of staff. I’m filling in where they need me. It’s been crazy busy.” She stopped to yawn. “I’m going to grab a couple hours of sleep here and then I’ll get back on duty.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
The words were kind, but Cassie heard distance in Rick’s voice. Maybe he was tired of having a kid around, especially a cranky, grumpy one.
And yet, she couldn’t quite make herself believe that was the reason. She’d been hearing the distance in his voice on and off for a while now.
“Cassie?”
“Sorry, I zoned out for a minute.” She got her brain in gear. “You could get the boys to check on your elderly parishioners. This virus hits seniors very hard. The sooner they come in to the hospital, the better.”
“Good idea. Noah and I will pick up the others if Laurel agrees. How are you holding up, Cassie?”
“A little rest and I’ll get my second wind back.” She hesitated. “How did you fare after a night with my son?”
“Actually, it was fun.” His voice dropped. Cassie figured Noah must be nearby. “We played some games after dinner. He beat me, as usual.”
“It was a lot easier to do my job knowing you were there for him,” she said. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”
Would Rick hear in her words how much more she wanted than friendship?
“You’re welcome. Now is there anything I can do for you personally?” The briskness of Rick’s voice was at odds with what he was asking. “Anything?” he repeated.
“If I phoned Laurel and asked her to pack a bag, could you pick it up when you get the boys and drop it here on your way past?” Cassie asked after a moment’s thought.
Rick agreed and then quickly got off the phone. Cassie worried that maybe by asking him to care for Noah, she’d asked too much. And yet, Rick loved kids. He’d become a pro at coaxing Noah out of whatever mood he was in. No, something else was bothering him.
And Cassie now felt sure it was whatever he’d been trying to tell her about for a while now, but never quite managed to say.
Confused, Cassie went to sprawl on a cot in the staff room. Too tired to puzzle it out, she finally closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.
But it wasn’t the restorative sleep Cassie needed. Instead, she dreamed of the handsome preacher. Though she tried to reach him, he kept backing away, insisting he couldn’t care for her, that she wasn’t the kind of woman he needed for a wife. She hadn’t helped her husband through his crisis, nor was she having success with her son. She was a failure.
Cassie woke feeling as if a gray cloud hung over her. She couldn’t shake the disquieting thought that trusting Rick so completely was a mistake.
She rose and went down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee and something to eat before she went back to work. Thanks to the odd dream she’d had, she felt strangely subdued when Rick entered, carrying a small bag.
“I brought your things. What is that?” he asked, looking askance at the half-full bowl in front of her.
“Porridge. Somehow I don’t seem to have the energy to eat it,” she admitted wearily.
“Leave it. I’ll get you some real food.” He walked over to the counter, flashed a smile at the woman behind it and soon returned with a fluffy, steaming omelet. “Try that,” he said setting it before her.
“The cafeteria doesn’t make omelets,” Cassie said, unable to stop staring at him as her soul soaked in the beloved lines of his tired face.
“They do today. Eat up. You need some protein.” Rick leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Well?” he demanded when she didn’t pick up her fork.
Cassie obediently placed a forkful of the omelet in her mouth. Her eyes widened as the delicious flavors woke up her senses. Rick got up and refilled her coffee cup, and got one for himself. He waited until she’d finished everything on the plate before he spoke again. “Thanks for suggesting we visit the seniors,” he said quietly. “We’ve lost Mr. Saunders but we managed to get help for others who were in trouble.”
“I heard about Mr. Saunders,” Cassie said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Rick’s chin drooped to his chest, his eyes downcast. “He was an amazing man. His integrity never wavered. What he said, he did.” Rick said the words slowly, thoughtfully.
That feeling that something was going on with him, something she didn’t understand, nagged at Cassie.
“I hope people remember me as fondly as everyone speaks of him.” Touched by Rick’s dejection, Cassie reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder to express her sympathy. He didn’t immediately pull away. For a moment, the pastor leaned into her touch, as if he needed it to deal with his sorrow.
But a moment later Rick drew back. He lifted his head to look at her and Cassie realized something had changed in their relationship. Something had come between them.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered as fear built inside. “You can tell me, Rick. In fact, I think you’ve been trying to tell me for some time now.”
He looked directly at her. “You’ve been a good friend, Cassie.”
Emphasis on friend. She’d been right. He was distancing himself. But why?
“And you’ve been a good friend to me,” she said very quietly. “What’s bothering you, Rick? Can I help?”
“Now you want to help me?” Rick gave a soft chuckle. “Don’t you have enough to do, woman? You’re working overtime, you’re dead tired and you want to help me?”
“If I can.” She held his gaze and her breath, waiting.
“You’re quite a lady, Cassie Crockett.” Respect laced his voice. She also thought she heard a note of caring in his kind words. But if he did, why was he trying so hard to build distance between them?
She wanted so much to help him, to give back just a bit of the help he’d so unstintingly offered her. But more than that, she wanted to share the burden of whatever troubles made his shoulders bow.
Most of all, she wanted to love him, and have him love her.
Love. I love him.
For a moment that knowledge paralyzed Cassie. All she could do was stare at him, filling her senses with his presence, letting the rush of joy suffuse her body.
She loved him. But he was hurting.
“Please let me help you,” she whispered.
Rick gazed at her. The pure emerald-green of his eyes laid bare his emotions—sadness, grief, helplessness, but worst of all a despondency Cassie had never seen in him before.
“I can’t.”
&nb
sp; Stung, Cassie drew back.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice raw, ragged, as if he was having trouble breathing. “Something important.”
Her pager went off. Cassie wanted to scream at the interruption. She needed to know what was wrong between them so she could fix it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rising slowly.
“I know.” Rick rose, too, carrying her bag. “I’ll leave this at the desk for you. You can pick it up later.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t make herself go, couldn’t leave him like this. The pager went off a second time. “Rick, let’s make sure we talk later, okay?”
“Take care of yourself, Cassie,” Rick said, his voice hoarse and strained.
Why did it sound as if he was saying goodbye?
Aching for the pain he seemed to be in, Cassie stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek.
“You take care of yourself, too, Rick,” she said, then hurried away with no understanding of what had just happened between them.
Lord? I trust You. Please help him.
Cassie halted, and took a moment to amend her prayer.
Please help us.
*
For seven long days the flu epidemic raged through Churchill. Rick drove himself to be the pastor his community needed. He prayed by parishioners’ bedsides through long, lonely nights and worry-filled days. He fetched and carried whenever he was asked. He drove countless people to the hospital. He made sure those who were fighting the flu at home had all they needed.
He made himself as useful as he could around Lives, too. He and Teddy Stonechild helped Laurel take care of the boys’ meals so Sara could stay home and keep her baby safe.
In a way, the long nights and wearying days were a panacea, allowing Rick to avoid the painful acceptance of what he knew God was asking him to give up—what he now accepted as a soul-deep love for Cassie. He told himself he kept up his frenetic pace because his job was to minister to people.
But that wasn’t the whole truth.
As day after weary day passed, each time he caught a glimpse of Cassie in the hospital, all thoughts of his ministry fled. The vibrancy that had always characterized her bouncing gold curls and melting brown eyes faded. Her beautiful face grew thin and drawn as she lost weight from working so hard. The only thing that cheered Rick was seeing her never-faltering smile that was always at the ready for patients and staff alike. When she smiled at him, he wished for the privilege of seeing it every day for the rest of his life.