No Shadow (Prodigal Sons of Cane)

by Clemens, S. N.

  His expression changed.

  “I did have a good time. And I do like you. But I don’t think I’m ready to start dating anyone…I mean, dating you…dating more seriously.” Her cheeks burned as she stumbled over the words.

  Thomas’s brow wrinkled. “I see.”

  She didn’t really think he did see, but she wasn’t sure how to explain it to him without revealing very private feelings. “Maybe sometime later—after a while—if you’re still interested, although I’m sure some woman will snap you up pretty quickly.” She smiled to soften the blow. “But it can’t be me right now.”

  Nodding, he said, “All right. I think I understand.”

  She reached out to touch his forearm gently. “Do you? I hope I didn’t lead you on or anything.”

  “Oh, no,” Thomas said, his smile broadening and looking more natural. “You didn’t. You’ve been great. I never dreamed you’d go out with me at all—even once. You’re so pretty and smart. Way out of my league.”

  His words struck such a chord with Helen that her face crumpled briefly. “No way,” she murmured, squeezing his arm. She remembered Lorraine’s words and finally understood them. “There’s no such thing as a league anyway. There are just people. And sometimes things line up for them, and sometimes they don’t.”

  Thomas returned her smile. “Right.”

  For a moment, she felt for him so strongly—understood the kinds of insecurities he might be dealing with, on top of his grief at the death of his wife—that Helen felt a surge of affection. Acting on the intuitive kinship, she reached up to give him a friendly hug.

  He returned the hug immediately, proving the understanding between them was clear.

  Squeezing him gently and smelling the fragrance of laundry detergent on his shirt, Helen knew she’d done something right.

  Then a car door slamming behind them startled her. She pulled away, looking up at Thomas’s face sheepishly.

  She glanced over to the car that had just parked on the street, two places behind Thomas’s truck.

  A shiny, black, very expensive SUV.

  Helen’s heart dropped into her gut as she saw Andrew walking around to the sidewalk. He didn’t look in their direction at all, and a stranger wouldn’t have noticed anything but cool composure in his posture.

  But Helen saw that his shoulders and back were painfully stiff, and that his jaw—which she saw only in profile—was tightly clenched as he walked into the Chinese restaurant.

  He must have seen them hugging. He couldn’t have missed it, pulling up behind them as he had. Maybe he had misunderstood. Maybe he thought the embrace was romantic.

  Even though Andrew was the one who had avoided her for a week, Helen was washed with guilt and mortification.

  She looked back over at Thomas and, despite her attempts, couldn’t hide the distress in her face.

  Thomas gave her a little smile. “He’s the reason you can’t date me seriously now, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” For just a moment, Helen covered her face with her hands and silently prayed that God would fix this.

  Because she had no idea what to do.

  Chapter Eleven

  Helen went to church the following day, praying that Andrew would attend.

  She’d been very upset when Thomas dropped her off the night before, but she felt a little better this morning. She hoped to see Andrew at church and talk to him—maybe straighten out some of the confusion between them.

  She would try to be as honest with him as she could. She hadn’t done anything wrong in going out with Thomas, but obviously there were things she and Andrew needed to sort out.

  To her relief, she saw him slip into a pew across the sanctuary as the congregation was singing the first hymn. He was dressed in black pants and a black dress shirt and looked incredibly attractive and urbane.

  He also looked tired, she thought, even from across the room. She caught him glancing over in her direction as he picked up the hymnal from the slot on the pew in front of him.

  For some reason, she felt more hopeful than she had since the hike up the mountain. Although he hadn’t said anything and hadn’t lost his cool composure, she’d known he was upset when he saw her hugging Thomas the night before. And this morning he looked uncomfortable, uncharacteristically uncertain.

  Surely he wouldn’t have reacted that way had he not had some feelings for her.

  Had he not been jealous.

  She tried not to feel excited and pleased about his reaction. He was genuinely troubled, and they had a lot they needed to work out. But maybe—maybe—there was hope after all. Maybe she hadn’t been mortifyingly wrong about what she’d sensed was developing between them.

  She tried to concentrate during the worship service, and she spent a lot of time silently praying. Then, after her father spoke the benediction, she grabbed her purse, planning to hurry toward Andrew to catch him before he left.

  To her infinite frustration, Mrs. Beasley—a sweet, eighty-seven-year-old lady—grabbed her arm to ask about women’s circle this week. Helen was the organizer of the women’s circles in church, so she was obliged to pause and speak to Mrs. Beasley.

  By the time she had done so, and another woman had stopped her to tell her how pretty she looked this morning, Andrew was no longer in the sanctuary.

  She’d been hoping—praying—that he’d wanted to talk to her too. Surely they couldn’t keep avoiding this situation.

  But he was gone.

  Tomorrow, she’d have to go over to the Cane house and make him speak to her. It just would have been so much easier to do it now.

  After making some more small talk and calling out a greeting to her father, Helen drooped out to the parking lot, feeling tired and frustrated. Then she stopped short, staring and momentarily losing her breath.

  Parked next to her car was an SUV import—the contrast between the sleek, expensive lines of the vehicle almost laughable next to her no-nonsense American sedan.

  Leaning against her car, dressed all in black, his hands in his pocket and an unreadable expression on his face, Andrew waited for her.

  “Hi,” she said stupidly, when she recovered herself enough to approach.

  “Hi.” He didn’t smile and his gaze was oddly quiet.

  “I haven’t seen you for a while,” she began, searching desperately for something to say. She wore a slate blue sheath dress and chunky heels that made her feel like Jackie Kennedy, and she carried her Bible and little purse which she swapped nervously from hand to hand. Realizing what she’d just said, she blushed and added lamely, “I mean to talk.”

  “I knew what you meant,” Andrew said. His gray eyes were wary and observant and his strong, classic features unnaturally stoic. For some reason, she kept noticing the little creases next to his eyes. He’d had so much stress in his life. She wished she could somehow soothe those lines away.

  “Oh.” She had no idea what to say or do, so she stepped over and leaned against her car beside him, looking out on the crowded parking lot and families leaving for Sunday dinner.

  “How was your date last night?” Andrew asked at last.

  Her eyes flew back to his face, and her shoulders stiffened slightly. “It was fine.”

  “It seemed rather sudden.”

  Frowning, she tried to scan his face for some sign of his mood or intentions. “Not really. Maybe a little.”

  “I hadn’t realized you were looking in that direction.” The words were bland, but she saw a tiny muscle fluttering erratically in his left cheek.

  “Oh.” She had no idea what to say, and she was both disturbed and exhilarated by the sudden flare of feeling in his eyes. Jealousy, maybe.

  “Unless you aren’t interested, and it was just a last-ditch effort to get him to sell the library the manuscript.”

  Helen gave a pained gasp and widened her eyes—her excitement completely quenched by the words.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew said immediately, looking away and his face twisting wit
h obvious guilt. “That was unworthy. I was just lashing out. I know you wouldn’t have gone out with Tom just to get the manuscript.”

  The sting she’d felt faded immediately, and she once again felt torn between confusion and excitement. He’d basically just admitted to lashing out from jealousy. She couldn’t be deceiving herself. He must feel something for her. “I’m glad,” she began, swallowing over her dry throat. “I’m glad you know I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why did you go out with him?”

  Now it was her turn to admit a thing or two. Helen took a deep breath and answered his diffident question as honestly as she could. “I wanted to…I wanted to see if there was any potential. To see if I might be able to like him.”

  “And did you?” He swallowed so hard she could see it in his throat.

  She didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say, and she wasn’t quite ready to open up so intimately to Andrew—not until he’d softened a little and made some sort of gesture of his own.

  At least he was talking to her, though.

  Andrew nodded, as if he accepted her unwillingness to answer, and he straightened his head to look forward toward the emptying parking lot. He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck in a characteristic gesture.

  She used that opportunity to study his face and couldn’t help but noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the lack of color in his face beneath his tan. “You look tired,” she said softly, something tender in her heart aching for him. She wished she could massage his neck for him, do something to make him feel better.

  He glanced back over at her. “I’ve been out of town all week. Just got back yesterday evening.”

  She felt a kick of surprise. “You have? I didn’t know that.”

  He hesitated briefly before he asked, “Would it have made a difference?”

  Looking down to hide her expression, she thought about the question. “I…I don’t know. Maybe if you’d told me…” She didn’t complete the thought.

  She knew full well that if he’d told her he was going out of town, if he’d made it clear he wasn’t avoiding her on purpose, she probably wouldn’t have gone out with Thomas.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Melissa is always nagging me for being too closed off. I know she’s right. It’s hard to overcome a lifetime of reserve in a couple of months. And there’s more to it.” He paused to shape his words carefully, and she noticed a hint of uncertainty in his expression that gave her a thrilling surge of hope. “I’ve been trying to get myself straight with God. You know that. And a lot of things have been put on hold until I do.”

  Helen’s lips parted as she realized what he was telling her. She met his intent gaze and felt joy and expectation rise in her heart like a wave.

  “There are some things I can’t begin until I know I’m on the right path with God.” There could be no doubt at all about what the intensity and tenderness in his face meant. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to begin. I just can’t. Yet.”

  Her heart and spirit fluttering wildly—with an exhilaration she’d never expected to feel—Helen breathed, “Oh. I didn’t know.”

  “I know you didn’t. Melissa keeps hitting me over the head with that fact. I was wrong to assume you’d know what was going on with me. I’m sorry about that.”

  Helen wanted to hug herself with pure giddiness and was shocked that she was managing to act relatively calm and composed. “Thanks,” she began, her voice breaking so that she had to begin again. “Thanks for telling me.”

  Andrew reached out and brushed her warm cheek with his knuckle. It was the lightest, most delicate of touches but it felt like it burned Helen’s skin. His expression was rich, tender, and just a little hesitant. “I don’t expect y—I don’t expect anyone to wait for me as I figure everything out. Since I can’t make any promises.”

  And Helen suddenly understood the flicker of nervousness beneath his soft, fond look. However indirectly he’d had to approach the matter, he’d laid himself out on the line, made himself vulnerable to her.

  It couldn’t have been easy for someone as guarded as Andrew to do, and she wasn’t about to betray his trust. She smiled up at him, pretty sure her feelings were shining through in the smile. “I don’t want to go out with Thomas again. I told him that last night.” Her heart softened as she saw the flash of relief on Andrew’s face. “The hug was just a friendly one.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  They gazed at each other stupidly for a minute. Then they both started to laugh rather sheepishly.

  “Did you want to come over for lunch?” Andrew asked at last. “I know Melissa would love to see you.”

  “Sure.” She started to get out her keys when Andrew put a hand on her wrist to stop her.

  He smiled as he said, “I’ll drive.”

  ***

  Andrew experienced a surge of thanksgiving and gratitude as he pulled out of the church parking lot with Helen beside him.

  He’d prayed about the situation for most of the night—fighting off the anger, jealousy and possessiveness that had overwhelmed him at the sight of Helen embracing Thomas Harrison in front of the Chinese restaurant. He couldn’t remember anything hurting so much. Not since his family had fallen apart years ago. But he’d forced himself not to act in anger.

  And God had answered his prayers. They’d worked things out. He’d admitted as much as he could to her, and she’d made it clear that the feelings were mutual.

  She would wait for him.

  “How was your trip?” Helen asked, looking up at him with eyes so blue and tender he could drown in them.

  “It was all right. I had to catch up on some business stuff.”

  “When do you expect to go back home?”

  He felt a lurch in his heart at the thought of leaving her. He couldn’t leave her. D.C. no longer felt like home. Maybe, sometime in the future, he could figure out a way to…

  “Andrew?”

  Her soft prompting brought him back out of his reflections. “I don’t know. My job is flexible, but I guess I can’t stay away forever.”

  “Oh.”

  It shouldn’t thrill him so much that she looked disappointed. She’d worn her hair up again this morning but familiar wisps of blonde hair had started to fall irresistibly around her face.

  In spite of his besotted haze, something distracted him as he turned the corner onto his street. A large group of hikers—maybe eight or ten of them—were tramping down the middle of the road toward them. The hikers were worn and dirty, like they’d been camping out for a while.

  Cane was along the Appalachian Trail so hikers often put in an appearance. While this block wasn’t along the path, the group might have veered off somewhere or gotten lost. It happened quite a bit. There was nothing noteworthy about seeing ragged hikers around town.

  But the sight of them, coming from the direction of his house, caused a clench of worry in Andrew’s chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Helen asked.

  He wasn’t even surprised that she could read his change in mood so easily. “Nothing. It’s probably nothing. I just hope those hikers weren’t around the house.”

  Helen turned to stare at them, her expression conveying concern. “Oh. I see. But surely, if Melissa was up in the garret suite, she wouldn’t have seen them or been bothered by them.”

  “Probably not.” He still frowned though, thinking about Melissa’s mood this morning and starting to pray she hadn’t seen the hikers, even from an upstairs window.

  Helen reached out and put a hand on his forearm. “Andrew, what is it? Is something wrong with Melissa?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not. I was a little concerned about her this morning. I was gone all week, and she never does well when I’m not here. And then I think she was upset about…she was worried that you…” He trailed off lamely.

  “She was worried that you and I were arguing?”

  “Yes,” he agreed, accepting that safe version of an explanation. “She always s
tarts to get fidgety when she worries. That’s why I try so hard to keep her from worrying about me.”

  “She loves you. Of course she’s going to worry about you occasionally.”

  “But it just adds to her stress-level. This morning she was…I don’t know. Jittery and anxious. I shouldn’t have left her to go to church. But she kept nagging at me until I agreed to go.” He shot Helen a wry look. “She wanted to make sure we talked.”

  “Well,” Helen said, looking down at her hands. “She’ll be happy to hear that we did.”

  “Yeah.” Andrew took a deep breath, hoping that Melissa’s state of mind would start to mend when she saw that he and Helen had settled things between them—at least to a certain extent. “But I hope she didn’t see those hikers. They would have upset her.”

  When they reached his house, he pulled into the driveway. And Andrew knew something was wrong immediately when Trish swung open the front door and stepped out, before they’d gotten halfway up the walk.

  “What is it?” he asked, his voice terse as he shifted automatically into crisis mode. His pulse pounded, and every muscle in his body tensed, preparing for whatever emergency he would face.

  “It’s Melissa,” Trish replied anxiously, hurrying down the steps toward him. “We can’t find her.”

  “What? What happened?” Andrew managed to level off his voice but his eyes blurred over slightly with horror. He could feel Helen’s anxious presence beside him.

  Trish was almost in tears as she explained. “She’s been restless all morning. I know you’ve been worried about her. She was out with the dog when—“

  “Those hikers.”

  “Yes! Oh, the poor thing. They were tramping right through the yard. She had no preparation at all and there were so many of them. I heard her scream and, of course, I ran out. But she was gone before I got there. The hikers said she ran off into the woods.”

  Andrew closed his eyes for a moment, trying to process the waves of panic and dismay.

  “I’m so sorry,” Trish rasped, “We should have done better.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he managed to say, pulling himself together. “Jenson went to look for her?”