by Gayle Roper
Vivian paled again but said nothing, merely nodded, wide-eyed.
“Mrs. Winslow?” a woman called from the doorway.
Abby knew the woman meant her. She rose.
“Mr. Winslow is fine. The surgeon is finishing up now. Then it’s into recovery. He should be back in his room in an hour or two.”
Abby grabbed the nearby chair back to hold herself up as relief turned her legs suddenly nerveless. Thank You, Father!
“Do you wish to wait?” the woman asked.
Abby, Rick, Celia, and Vivian nodded as one.
The woman smiled. “The cafeteria will be open in an hour for breakfast. Maybe you can eat and then see Mr. Winslow. He’ll be in Room 215.”
Everyone nodded again. The woman turned away, and for a moment those in the waiting room were quiet. Then Rick gave a great wah-hoo! and swung first Celia, then Abby around in great circles. Laughing and crying at the same time, Abby hugged Celia. Rick grabbed the hands of both women and said, “Father, we thank You for Your great mercy and kindness!”
“Amen!” yelled Abby, kissing both Rick and Celia on the cheek. Then she spotted Vivian, lost and forlorn, sitting on the sofa. As Abby walked to her, Vivian gave a tentative smile. “I’m glad Marsh is going to be all right.”
Abby nodded. “Thanks.”
“I sent a note, you know.”
Abby was confused. “You just said you sent two.”
“I mean another one. I told them that what I wrote before was all lies. I told them I was sorry. I said you were nice and wonderful and they were lucky to have you.” Vivian was all earnestness and yearning to be believed.
“What made you decide to write that?”
Vivian looked at her clasped hands. “You saved Walker’s life.”
“Ah.”
Vivian looked up, tears once again streaming. “How could I say such things against you when you saved my baby? I’m sorry, Abby. I even signed my name.”
She twisted her tissues into a rope. “Can you forgive me?”
Abby felt so relieved over the good news about Marsh that she would forgive anyone anything, but she held her tongue for a moment. Absolution too quickly given can seem too easy.
“Rocco forgave me,” Vivian said, like this fact would make Abby more inclined to do the same. “I told him what I did, and he told me he loved me.”
“Rocco’s a nice man.”
Vivian actually smiled. “He told me I hadn’t done anything worse than he had when he ignored me and the boys.”
Abby wasn’t certain she agreed with that assessment, but she wasn’t about to debate it with Vivian.
“What I did wasn’t right,” Vivian said as she rose. “The one good thing is that Rocco proved his love by offering to talk to you for me. Then when I saw them taking Sean away tonight—we saw the lights and stuff when we were sitting on the deck and went to investigate—I knew I had to talk to you too. Please, Abby. Say you’ll forgive me.”
Abby looked at Vivian so long the woman began to squirm. “I forgive you. But I want you to promise me you’ll never do anything like that ever again, no matter how mad you get.”
“Oh!” Vivian bounced on her toes, a beautiful smile lighting her face. “I won’t. I won’t. I learned my lesson. Oh, thank you!”
Two hours later, Abby sat alone beside Marsh’s bed. Vivian had left when Rick, Celia, and Abby went to the cafeteria. After they ate, Rick and Celia left to reassure Jess and Karlee, who had spent the night with Mrs. Winsky.
“We’ll come back after church,” they said.
Abby leaned over Marsh and brushed his hair off his forehead. Then she ran her hand lightly up and down his day-old beard. It rasped and pricked, and the sensation caused Marsh to open his eyes.
“Hey, tiger.” He croaked and managed a lopsided smile.
“Hey, hero.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
He looked down at himself, one shoulder all bandages over stitches, the other arm full of IVs. “Can’t hug you right now.”
“I’ll take a rain check. And there’s nothing wrong with my arms.” She wrapped them carefully about his middle and, resting her head on his chest, squeezed gently. He dropped a kiss on her head.
She straightened. “You scared me.”
“I scared myself.”
“I don’t know what I would have done if you’d died.” Tears gathered in her eyes.
His face creased in concern. “Don’t, Abby. I’m going to be fine.” He turned his palm up, and she gripped his hand. “We have years and years to love each other.”
“Years,” she repeated. She stood, leaned over, and kissed him again. “Years.”
He fell back to sleep.
As Abby sat, she knew it was time to make the call she dreaded. She picked up the phone by the bed and dialed.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Abby! What’s wrong?”
“Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“It’s seven o’clock on a Sunday morning. Why else would you call, especially when we’re supposed to see you at church in a few hours.”
“Um. It’s Marsh.” And Abby braced herself.
“Marsh? What happened?”
Abby had to hand it to her mother. She sounded concerned. “He was shot.”
“What?”
Abby could imagine her mother’s thoughts. What kind of man gets shot? Good people don’t get themselves shot. They don’t even know people to shoot them. But my daughter’s new boyfriend gets shot. Maybe he was hurt in a robbery. Innocent people could get shot in a robbery.
“Was it a robbery?” Hannah asked
“No, no. The shot was meant for me. It hit Marsh instead.”
Mom said nothing for so long that Dad grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“It’s me, Dad. I was just telling Mom that Marsh got shot last night.”
“Is he all right?”
“He’s banged up a bit.” She looked at his much loved face and thought that an understatement. “But he came through surgery well. The prognosis is good.”
“What hospital?”
“Mainland Memorial.”
“We’ll be there as quickly as we can make it.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
It was almost an hour before her parents arrived. Abby spent that time dozing in the chair by Marsh’s bed. She awakened when she heard her father’s voice just outside the door.
“You will be gracious, Hannah. Remember, the shot was supposed to be for Abby. That’s what she told you.”
“Who would ever want to shoot our Abby?”
“How should I know?” Dad said. “All I know is he got Marsh instead.”
“You mean like he jumped in front of her?” Mom sounded floored by the idea.
Len nodded. “I can see him doing that. He’s a fine boy.”
Mom made a disgusted sound. “I don’t even like him, and I’ve got to be thankful to him?”
Abby closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Lord, will it ever change?
A new voice entered the conversation in the hall. “Hello.” Rick was back.
“I’m glad to hear Marsh is going to be fine,” Dad said.
“Thanks. I’m glad for Abby that she doesn’t have to suffer any more loss. She and Marsh are so good together.”
Mom made a choking sound.
Rick kept talking, just like he didn’t know he was pouring salt on Mom’s wound. “He’s so good with her. He’s the one who figured out why the accusations against her were bogus.”
“What accusations?” Mom’s voice bristled.
“You’d better talk to her about it,” Rick backpedaled. “But Marsh was definitely the hero. And if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know the Lord.”
Abby had to smile. Poor Mom. She was hearing so many nice things about Marsh.
“How did you ever get to meet Marsh?” Dad asked. “Don’t you live in California?”
“When I got the lead in the first Colton West film—”
; “Aha!” Dad said.
“What?” Mom asked.
“Marsh met with me to talk over the character and his vision for the film. We hit it off. He was sanity in an insane world. Working with him on the next three films proved his faith to me, and I knew Jesus was real.”
“Why in the world would you and Marsh have anything to do with Colton West?” Mom asked, her voice still too acerbic.
“You are Rick Mathis,” Dad said triumphantly. “Duke Beldon. I knew it.”
“And Marsh is Colton West.” With that bit of news, Rick walked into the room, smiling in satisfaction. He had actually silenced Mom.
But not for long. “Aha!” she cried. “Spoiled celebrities! I knew something was wrong. We’ve got to protect her, Len.”
But Dad had followed Rick into the room and didn’t respond.
Abby glanced at Marsh. His eyes were open and twinkling. He’d heard the whole conversation. She rolled her eyes, and he dropped one eyelid in a wink. He gave a little come-here toss of his head. She leaned over him.
“I don’t call you tiger for nothing, you know.”
She nodded. “I love you.”
He smiled sweetly and went back to sleep.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
IT’S GOING TO rain tomorrow,” Marsh said as he stared up into the beautiful deep blue sky of a late July evening in Seaside. He gently rubbed his shoulder, shifting it forward and back to ease the twinges it sent every time the barometer fell.
Abby nodded, aware of the dull ache in her hip. “I was thinking the same thing.”
They grinned at each other.
“At least,” Marsh said, “we know when to take umbrellas.”
They stood in the drive next to the beach house, watching Senator and Mrs. Winslow leave after their annual one-day summer visit. Marsh stood slightly behind Abby, and she leaned back against him, delighting as always in having him next to her. Her husband. Her beloved.
“We’re safe from another visit until Christmas,” Marsh said, but Abby heard the wistful sound in his voice.
“I’m sorry you’ll never have the closeness you deserve with you father.” She reached up and kissed his cheek.
Marsh shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it.” But she knew it hurt him deeply.
“At least your father’s proud of Colton West.”
“And he’s delighted with the prospect of becoming a grandfather.” Marsh put his palm on Abby’s slightly rounded tummy. “Almost as pleased as I am at becoming a father.”
“And me at being a mom again.”
“Does the pregnancy bring back painful memories?” She understood that this was his greatest fear for her.
“Once in a while. Mostly I remember the precious times: Maddie sleeping through the night, Maddie rolling over, Maddie standing on her chubby little legs—sweet memories. And I look forward to making a whole new collection with you and Little Whoever.”
He wrapped his arms about her in a protective and comforting cocoon. “We’ll make them the best and most extraordinary memories the world has ever seen.”
They laughed softly at the exaggeration, but it seemed a worthy goal nonetheless.
The driver of the limousine honked, and Marsh and Abby waved.
His hand dropped to her shoulder. “I’m glad we waited to tell them about the baby until this visit. In person was much nicer than over the phone.”
“You just wanted to see Lane’s face when she learned she was going to be a grandmother!”
He grinned, totally unrepentant. She smiled back. He had a right to be pleased with life. Shadows at Noon had earned him an Emmy nomination for writing and Rick one for best actor in a drama. Marguerite and Craig of Frost Spring Ranch had been a great success in book sales, and Rick’s take on Craig, now in editing, was proving the richest performance of his career to date.
They walked onto the porch and took their accustomed seats—he in his red Adirondack and she in her matching one.
“You realize that it won’t be long before you’re going to have to haul me from this chair, don’t you?” Abby snuggled into the deep V of the seat. “I’ll never be able to get myself out.”
“Hey, are they gone?” Rick and Celia and the girls stood beside the porch, all sunburned and smiling. They had arrived for a month in the upstairs apartment, fresh from their ranch in Montana. Celia was even further advanced in her pregnancy than Abby.
When Marsh nodded, Rick beckoned. “Come with us. We’re going to the boardwalk for some popcorn and french fries.”
Celia held up a hand. “Not me. I’m just going for the exercise.”
“I want to ride the roller coaster,” said Jess. “You promised, Dad.”
Rick beamed. “I did.”
“I want some cotton candy, the blue kind,” Karlee announced.
“It’ll turn your lips blue,” Celia protested.
Karlee looked at her blankly. “So?”
Viv and Rocco appeared, trailed by Walker and Jordan. Walker immediately went to stand beside Jess. She ignored him as usual.
“Can they go?” Rocco asked Rick, who shrugged. “Can you go?” he then asked Marsh.
“Let’s,” Abby said, her aching hip forgotten. “It’s our last free night before Mom and Dad hit town.”
“Are they staying here?” Celia asked in surprise.
Abby shook her head. “But we have plans to do several things with them.”
“That’s just because Colton West is Len’s favorite writer,” said Rick, laughing.
“Len’s not my problem.” Marsh didn’t have to spell out who was. He pulled Abby out of her chair.
“But Mom frowns less every time she sees him.” Abby slid her arm around Marsh. “That’s because she sees how happy I am.”
“That’s because she knows she doesn’t have a choice,” said the ever-practical Marsh. “It’s be nice to me or.…” He didn’t finish the sentence.
Abby smiled somewhat sadly at Marsh’s joke. There was just enough truth in it to hurt. Why a smart and devout woman like her mother couldn’t understand that Marsh was Abby’s top priority was a mystery. Why she felt Abby wasn’t smart enough or godly enough to make wise choices was another puzzle.
However, they were making progress. Mom appeared to be trying, at least most of the time. Certainly boundaries had to be drawn and redrawn, and the coming baby would necessitate much negotiation. The last thing either she or Marsh wanted was the tension of a long visit from Mom when the baby arrived. By the same token, they didn’t want her to miss the joy of the event either.
Abby sighed. It would never be easy. Without a doubt the distance they lived from each other made things less complicated, but it still took much thought and prayer, and Abby suspected it always would. Still she knew she and Marsh were able to honor her parents with sincere hearts.
Arm in arm the two of them walked to their car.
“We’ll meet you in front of the merry-go-round,” Marsh called, knowing the three families might not get parking places near each other.
“I’m going to ride the white horse with flowers in its hair,” Karlee said.
Jordan looked at her in horror. “I’m riding the dragon with the big claws.”
“Scaley boy.” Karlee climbed into her car, leaving Jordan staring, trying to decide if he’d been insulted.
Marsh and Abby held hands as they drove into town, as they walked to the boardwalk, and as they waited for their friends at the merry-go-round.
“Hey,” said a teenager near them. “Isn’t that Rick Mathis?”
“With a pregnant lady and two little kids?” his friend said. “Are you kidding? He’s way too cool for that. Next thing you know you’re going to tell me Colton West is a family guy too.”
Marsh and Abby looked at each other and laughed until tears came.
Dear Reader,
What an influence family exerts over each of us.
When God blesses us with strong, healthy, caring relatives,
He bestows a favor of sweet richness. We see not only a picture of our loving Father but also of how the brothers and sisters who inhabit the Body should interact and care.
When we are raised in a family where stress and contention, perhaps even abuse, are a way of life, God had granted us one of those severe mercies. We learn that the only way to survive, to grow, to become whole, is to cling to our Savior and draw on His boundless love and strength.
“Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The unfailing love of the LORD never ends! By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each day. I say to myself, ‘The LORD is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him!’ ” (Lamentations 3:21–24, NLT).
TEARS ARE FALLING LIKE SPRING RAIN …
Spring Rain by Gayle Roper
Seaside Seasons, Book One:
Leigh Spenser, a young teacher and single mother of ten-year-old Billy, is thrown into conflict. Clay Wharton, the boy’s estranged father, comes home to Seaside, New Jersey, to await the passing of his twin brother, Ted—now dying of AIDS. Threats against Billy’s life ratchet the tension tighter, as Leigh wrestles with both tough and tender feelings for her old flame. Clay’s own conflict, as he seeks to come to grips with his brother’s lifestyle choices and the needs of the boy he fathered, underline the issue of God’s forgiveness in the hearts—and lives—of this modern-day family. An emotionally gripping read!
ISBN 1-57673-638-5
Spring Rain
TEN-YEAR-OLD BILL has rushed into the night and onto the jetty to rescue Terror the terrier before high tide claims him.
“It’s okay, Terror,” he called again and again. “It’s okay. I’m coming.”
He glanced up and saw a huge wave, crest white with spume, about to break over Terror’s rock. It would definitely wash him out to sea. Bill jumped the last crevice and grabbed just as the wave broke.
The wave caught him full in the face as he bent over the pup. He coughed and sputtered and tried to lift the very wet and frantic Terror, but he couldn’t. The wave receded, pulling him down on his knees beside the terrified dog. His toes hooked over the edge of the rock toward land and held on. Water now covered the rock with no relief, lapping partway up his thighs as he knelt.