“I’m sure you are.” He walked out of the store, hauling her three bags.
Rachel had no other choice but to follow him. When she got to her car, Bruce was standing there, waiting for her.
“I think it’s fairly evident that we need to talk,” he said calmly.
Rachel glared at him in response. “All right. What do you want to say?”
He exhaled. “I lied.”
“About what?” she asked, folding her arms.
“I don’t want you to marry Nate. In fact, I’m convinced it would be the wrong thing for everyone involved—including me. Especially me.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said, and I didn’t mean a word of it.”
“Then why say it?”
He shook his head mournfully. “Because in every way that counts, Lover Boy is the better man.”
She didn’t bother chastising him for the derogatory nickname; it didn’t matter anymore.
“Better than whom?” she muttered.
That caught him up short. For a moment Bruce didn’t respond. When he did, his back was straight and his fists clenched. “Me.”
“You?” She dropped her arms. It’d taken him long enough to get to the point.
He inhaled sharply. “I love you, Rachel. I don’t know when it happened. All I know is how I feel. If you married Nate, it would devastate me. Not just Jolene. Me.”
“I told you I broke up with him.” She also remembered his reaction. Zilch. Zero. Nothing.
“Why?” he asked. “Why did you break up with him?”
“Because the night I was kidnapped, I realized I was in love with you. I was afraid I was going to die, and it was you I thought about. It wasn’t Nate.”
He took one step toward her. “Then why are we fighting?”
“Because when I told you I’d broken up with Nate, you…you acted like you didn’t care.”
He blinked. “I…did?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Maybe I was afraid to believe it was true.”
“Or maybe you don’t know what you want.”
“Oh, yes, I do,” he insisted. “I’m in love with you, and I have been for a long, long time.”
She frowned, unsure she could trust him. “Then why aren’t you holding me?”
He grinned. “Mainly because I’m loaded down with these bags.”
Rachel promptly unlocked her car door and as soon as Bruce had set the groceries aside, she was in his arms. Then he was kissing her, and it was every bit as good as that night at the Taco Shack. No, better. She hadn’t thought that was possible.
“Thank God,” he whispered over and over. “I was so afraid I’d lose you.”
Rachel had been afraid, too.
“I’m not in favor of long engagements,” Bruce told her. He kissed her again, deeper this time. His kisses were filled with meaning, with joy and anticipation.
“I’m not, either.”
“Good.”
“Oh, Bruce, I can’t believe you really love me.”
“Believe it. I think I always knew,” he admitted. “But the night you were kidnapped made it completely clear.” He grimaced. “That Russian chess player actually did us both a favor.” His arms tightened around her.
“I know,” Rachel murmured.
“After Stephanie was killed, I didn’t think I could ever love another woman. But I do, Rachel. I love you. I can’t impress you with a big diamond or a fancy house. I’m just a regular kind of guy trying to make a living and raise my daughter. I’ve been alone for years, but I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Rachel didn’t, either. She’d been lost, adrift, afraid. For the first time since her mother’s death, when Rachel was nine years old, she had a family.
Emily Flemming sat down at the piano in the church sanctuary. She poised her hands above the keys. In quiet moments like this, she enjoyed playing the piano and singing hymns. They brought her a feeling of peace.
Dave was due back at the church soon. He was on one of his routine calls to shut-ins. Her husband had a strong sense of responsibility and an equally strong sense of compassion. Being married to a minister wasn’t easy; the demands on Dave took him away from the family five or six nights a week. Lately, he’d been gone even later and longer than usual. When he returned to the house, their sons were always fast asleep, and Dave would be mentally and physically exhausted. That was one reason she was looking forward to a relaxing evening. It was their anniversary, and they were going to D.D.’s on the Cove.
After she’d been playing and singing for about thirty minutes, her voice grew tired and she decided to wait for Dave in the church office.
When she got there, Angel, the church secretary, was shutting down her computer for the evening. “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute,” the middle-aged woman said.
“I’m sure he will, too.” Dave had promised to take her out for dinner before he met with the Finance Committee to work on the church budget for next year.
She was afraid moving to 8 Sandpiper Way earlier in the year had strained the family’s already tight budget. Emily blamed herself; she’d seen the house and fallen in love with it. Despite her protests that they couldn’t afford a new home, Dave had insisted on buying it for her. She loved him all the more for it.
“I’ll wait inside his office,” Emily said as Angel gathered up her things. “There’s no need for you to stay.”
Angel hesitated. “Gary and I are going to a movie with friends tonight.”
“Go,” Emily said, waving her out the door.
Wandering around her husband’s office, Emily looked at the books in his bookcase and the objects on his desk. He seemed to accumulate books the way some women did shoes.
His favorite jacket hung on the door. Apparently he’d forgotten it at the office this morning. Taking it off the hook, she draped it over her arm and then heard something hit the floor. Whatever it was rolled beneath the desk.
Getting down on all fours, Emily discovered a woman’s earring. It looked expensive. Diamonds? She checked the pocket; there wasn’t another one. If this was a surprise anniversary gift, then there’d obviously be two. They’d be in a jeweler’s box as well. These were elaborate and somewhat old-fashioned—certainly not her style. Dave would know that.
An eerie sensation came over her. Surely Dave wasn’t seeing another woman. He couldn’t be—could he? Her mind flashed back on the past few months, and she was startled to realize that their love life wasn’t what it had once been. When had this happened? Six months ago? A year?
She suddenly grew cold as she recalled a recent visit by Sheriff Troy Davis. He’d come to question Dave about Martha Evans and her missing jewelry. Could this earring have belonged to the wealthy old woman? There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She heard the church door open. “Emily?”
“I’m here, Dave,” she called.
Hurriedly shoving the earring in her purse, Emily forced a smile and went out to greet her husband. As she did, she wondered for the first time in her life if she really knew this man.
DEBBIE MACOMBER
8 SANDPIPER WAY
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-S
ix
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
One
They say the wife is always the last to know.
Except that Emily Flemming did know and she’d known for more than a week. Dave, her husband, was involved with someone else. Only Dave wasn’t just Dave Flemming. He was Pastor Dave Flemming. The thought that her husband loved another woman was intolerable, unthinkable, unbearable. Dave’s betrayal was bad enough, but disregarding his moral obligations to his congregation and his God—she could hardly believe it. This shocking secret was completely inconsistent with everything she knew about her husband.
Ever since the night of their anniversary dinner, Emily had carefully guarded what she’d learned. She’d been in the church office, waiting for Dave, and had reached for his suit jacket, which hung on the back of his door. When she draped it over her arm, a diamond earring had fallen out of the pocket. Later she’d discovered the second one in the other pocket. Emily had certainly never owned anything as extravagant as this pair of large, diamond-studded pendant earrings.
In the beginning Emily had assumed the earrings were an anniversary present; however, she quickly realized they couldn’t be. For one thing, they weren’t in a jeweler’s box. But even if they had been, it wasn’t possible. Dave could never have afforded diamond earrings on their tight family budget.
Emily should have asked immediately…and hadn’t. She’d been afraid of ruining their special evening with her suspicions. But almost at once, other details had begun to add up in her mind. She could no longer ignore the fact that Dave so often worked late, especially since the private hour they’d shared after dinner had gone by the wayside. It might’ve been her imagination but he seemed to take extra long with his grooming, too.
Her suspicions doubled and tripled. She held them close to her heart, examining them over and over, trying to make sense of her husband’s behavior. Whenever she asked where he’d been, Dave’s answers were vague. Another warning sign…
“Mommy, when’s Daddy coming home?” Mark, the younger of her two sons, asked as he looked up from his plate. He was eight and his dark brown eyes were identical to his father’s.
Emily had the same question. “Soon,” she said as reassuringly as she could. Two or three times a week, Dave didn’t get home until well after dinner. At first she’d made excuses for him to their boys. Now she didn’t know what to tell them.
“Dad hardly ever eats with us,” Matthew complained, sitting down next to his younger brother.
Dave’s lateness had started gradually. He used to make a point of being there for the evening meal. As she stared into space, Emily couldn’t help wondering if he was having dinner with some other woman…some other family. She chased away the thought with a determination that stiffened her spine.
For the sake of her children, Emily dragged out her standard excuse. “Your father’s been busy at the church.”
“Every night?”
Her sons echoed Emily’s own dissatisfaction. “It seems so,” she returned lightly, pretending all was well as she joined them at the dinner table. They automatically clasped hands and bowed their heads while Emily recited grace. Silently she added a prayer for herself, asking for courage to face whatever the future might hold for her marriage.
“Shouldn’t we wait for him at least one night?” Mark said as he reluctantly picked up his fork.
“You two have homework, don’t you?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“But Dad—”
“Your father will eat later.”
“Will he get home before we go to bed?” Matthew, her sensitive son, asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, swallowing hard.
She made a pretense of eating. Her appetite had disappeared the minute she’d found those diamond earrings. That was the start—the wake-up call she’d ignored for months. Naturally, she’d told herself, there could be any number of explanations for those earrings. She’d intended to ask him about it the very next day…and hadn’t.
Emily knew what held her back. She didn’t want to hear the truth; she simply wasn’t ready for it. She dreaded the consequences once she did finally confront him.
She’d questioned her husband, more than once, about his late nights. But Dave brushed aside her concern and offered ambiguous excuses, mentioning people she’d never met and meetings she didn’t know about. He almost seemed to resent her asking, so after a while she’d stopped.
She supposed she had her answer. Since the discovery of the diamond earrings, she had a perfectly clear picture of what was happening—what had already happened. Sadly, pastors were as susceptible to temptation as anyone else. Like all sinners, they, too, could be lured into affairs. They, too, could make irreparable mistakes.
If Emily had hoped this was just a misunderstanding, that she’d allowed it to grow out of all proportion in her mind, those hopes had been destroyed. Earlier in the week, she’d run into Bob and Peggy Beldon at the grocery store. They owned the local bed-and-breakfast, Thyme and Tide. As the three of them stood in the middle of the aisle exchanging pleasantries, Bob casually said that he missed playing golf with Dave.
As long as the weather permitted, the two of them had played weekly for the past three years. In a matter of minutes, she’d ferreted out the information she’d been afraid to learn. Dave had given up golfing more than a year ago. A year! Yet every week last summer, he’d loaded up his golf clubs on Monday afternoons and driven off, supposedly to meet Bob. Obviously he’d been meeting someone else.
Emily sighed. She couldn’t continue to let her mind wander down this well-traveled path of doubt and suspicion. Half the time she acted the role of the quiet, unassuming wife; the rest of the time it was all she could do to refrain from demanding an explanation. She wanted the truth no matter how painful it might be—and yet she didn’t. What wife ever did?
So far she’d remained silent. She was astonished by how good she’d become at pretending everything was fine. None of her friends suspected. What bothered her almost as much as her suspicions was the fact that Dave didn’t seem to have any idea that she’d caught on. She wondered if he’d broach the subject. Maybe if he knew she’d figured out what was going on… Perhaps that was what she’d been waiting for. She wanted him to ask her.
But Dave never asked. If she managed to put on a marvelous performance, then so did her husband. Last Sunday he’d actually spoken from the pulpit about the importance of marriage, of loving one’s spouse.
Emily felt like the most unloved woman in the world. She could barely stop herself from breaking into heart-wrenching sobs right there in front of the entire congregation. Naturally everyone must have assumed she’d been overcome with emotion, since Dave’s sermon, by implication, had honored her. She wanted to tell them that, beautiful though his words were, that was all they were. Words.
It was hard to believe this could be happening to them. Emily had always been so sure they had a solid marriage, and that Dave was her best friend. Apparently she was wrong.
The door leading to the garage opened and to her surprise he walked into the house.
“Dad!” Mark slid out of his chair, running toward his father as if he hadn’t seen him in a year.
“Hey there, little man, how’s it going?” Dave reached down and swung their son into his arms. Mark was too big to be picked up like a child, but he craved the attention from his father.
Dave kissed Emily on the cheek, then ruffled Matthew’s hair before he sat down. “I’m glad I made it home in time for dinner tonight.”
“Me, too,” Mark said, his eyes glowing.
Despite everything, her own happiness sprang to life again, and Emily got up and brought a fourth place setting to the table.
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When she passed him the enchilada casserole she’d made, he took a heaping serving, then grinned over at her. “You fixed one of my favorites,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She met his look, letting him know with her eyes how much she loved him. Maybe, regardless of the evidence, all her unhappy suspicions were wrong.
“Can you help me with my homework after dinner, Dad?” Mark asked.
Their younger son was the top student in his class, far ahead of the other second-graders. He didn’t need any assistance. What he really wanted was time with his father.
“You promised to throw me the football, remember?” Matthew said. Never mind that it was late November and already dark outside,
He, too, wanted time with Dave. The children weren’t the only ones; Emily needed all the reassurance he had to offer. Hard as she tried to cast aside these doubts, they refused to die. She didn’t want to lose her husband. She loved Dave no matter what and was determined to keep her marriage together—or at least make every possible effort.
“Hold on, hold on.” Dave laughingly raised both hands. “Give me a minute to catch my breath, would you?”
Both boys stared expectantly at their father. Emily couldn’t bear to look at their eager faces. Seeing the love for him in their eyes made her feel like weeping.
“Let your dad eat his dinner,” she said.
“After that, I’ll help you both, but I’d like a few minutes alone with your mother first,” Dave said, glancing at Emily.
A chill raced down her spine, and she was afraid to meet his eyes.
“Aw, Dad,” Mark whined.
“It won’t take long,” he promised. “Eat your green beans.”
Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2 Page 32