No Shadow (Prodigal Sons of Cane)

by Clemens, S. N.

  “Yes. It all happened a few minutes ago. She couldn’t have gotten far. I stayed here to wait for you.”

  “Okay,” he said, using the business-like manner he always turned to in a crisis. “Helen, do you mind staying here, in case she comes back?” When Helen agreed, he turned to Trish. “You and I will go look for her too, since we know our way around the area. Even in a panic, I don’t think Melissa would go off the property. In fact, she’s probably passed out somewhere. She usually does when she has a phobic breakdown.”

  He didn’t let himself think of his helpless sister alone, unconscious, in the woods somewhere. He asked Trish which way Jenson had gone, and then they decided their own routes so they wouldn’t double over their searches.

  As he walked quickly into the woods beside his house, he prayed, remembering how faithful God had been in helping him deal with his relationship with Helen, remembering how faithful God had been for the whole of his life—even when Andrew had tried to shut him out.

  No matter what happened, He would be faithful now.

  ***

  Helen paced the front hallway in the Cane house, praying silently and looking out the window every thirty seconds for a sign of someone returning.

  She’d been so happy just a few minutes ago. And now she was terrified. For Melissa. And for Andrew.

  It had all happened so quickly she could barely keep up.

  After a few minutes, she called her dad, to tell him what happened and ask him to pray too. He didn’t seemed surprised that she was at the Cane house, and he promised he’d be praying until she called to tell him that Melissa was all right.

  Then there was nothing for Helen to do but wait.

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait as long as she’d feared. In less than ten minutes, she saw something through the window and ran out the front door.

  Andrew appeared from the trees on the side of the yard. He was sweating, and dust and dirt covered his leather shoes and the hem of his black trousers. There was a leaf in his thick, dark hair that he hadn’t bothered to brush away. His expression was set, stoic, and his mouth was a thin, tight line.

  But he carried his sister—limp and so small—cradled in his arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  Helen carried two large cups of sweet ice tea through the hospital hallway toward the waiting room, where Andrew was sitting. Melissa had been admitted to the psychiatric ward of the hospital in one of the larger cities in southwest Virginia, about an hour and a half from Cane.

  It had been a risk taking her to the hospital—since the surroundings would be completely foreign to her.

  She’d woken up in the back of the SUV as they’d been driving over here and had been so confused and terrified she’d lost consciousness again. But there was no other choice but to bring her to the hospital. They simply weren’t equipped to treat her at home, and apparently her phobic attacks like this were extremely serious. She’d been unconscious since they’d arrived at the hospital several hours ago.

  As Helen crossed the waiting room, she studied Andrew with concern. He was sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees and his head down. He looked so burdened that her heart broke for him.

  She offered him the ice tea. “Here.”

  “Thanks,” he said, accepting it with a faint smile. “You don’t have to stay here, you know. You can go back with your father. Or you can take my car—“

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen said, taking the seat beside him. “I love Melissa too.”

  He just nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with another tight smile.

  Helen did love Melissa and she was terribly concerned for her, but she wasn’t staying for Melissa. She was staying for Andrew.

  So he wouldn’t be so alone.

  Andrew leaned forward again. “I wish they’d let me sit with her. She’s going to panic when she wakes up. She’s never been out of it for this long before. Even in her worst attacks. What if she’s retreated so far into herself that she never comes out?”

  “She will. She’ll come out of it.” Unable to stop herself, she reached over and gently massaged the back of his neck, where he always seemed to rub it. When he let out a hoarse breath in response, she used more pressure.

  His muscles were painfully tight. He had so much stress and responsibility, and he so often handled it alone. He took so much on himself. Too much. His spirit seemed battered now. Defeated. He loved his sister. Felt responsible for her. And now he blamed himself.

  Andrew was so strong and self-assured most of the time. He was always so cool and competent. But right now she wanted to cradle him, could hardly understand the feeling.

  Her father, who’d driven to the hospital an hour ago, walked over and took a seat across from them. He’d been talking to some of the nurses. Helen didn’t pull back her hand from Andrew’s neck, wasn’t even embarrassed. She gave her father a helpless look.

  Her dad leaned forward, his eyes focused on Andrew’s bent form. “If you can give some of it God,” he said mildly, “you’d find it much more bearable.”

  Andrew didn’t draw back as she’d feared he would. He didn’t raise his eyes, but he said, “I’m trying. I want to.”

  “So can’t you trust him with this?”

  “I can. I do. But…”

  “You still can’t quite let go.”

  Andrew nodded, resigned and exhausted. “I know something’s missing,” he said hoarsely. “I know I don’t have the peace that’s promised. I used to have it, and I want it back. I’ve been trying so hard, for so long.”

  Her father’s unruffled expression never broke. “Do you know what ‘amen’ means?”

  For the first time, Andrew raised his eyes and gave him a quizzical look.

  “Do you know what ‘amen’ means?” Jack asked again.

  “It’s a word of agreement, isn’t it?” Andrew replied. Helen had dropped her hand when he’d straightened up, but as he lowered his head she started to knead his neck again.

  “Exactly. It means ‘yes.’ You’re better at trying and doing than anyone I know, but this isn’t about trying. It’s not about doing. It’s about accepting. Releasing. Saying amen to what God has already done.” He paused for a beat. “It’s just about saying yes.”

  Since she was studying Andrew’s lowered face, she saw his expression change. “Yeah.”

  She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she gave her father a grateful look. Then she shifted her hand a little to work on the tense muscles just at the base of Andrew’s skull, her fingers brushing lightly through his thick hair. It was the only thing she could do to help him, to make him feel better, so she didn’t stop.

  Andrew let out another thick exhale in response to her altered massage. His eyes were closed now.

  She and her father sat in silence.

  Andrew was a powerful, intelligent man. A courageous and determined one. Once he’d found his sure footing, nothing would hold him back. He would show the same passionate commitment to his faith—to God—that he did to his family and work. He would be a spiritual leader. A strong authority. He should have been a father long ago. He was born to be one.

  Suddenly, Helen pictured him as a husband, as a father—loving and guiding a family. The image was so vivid and poignant that her heart ached in her chest.

  He just needed to take the final step. Say “amen.” Say yes.

  ***

  An hour later, they were still waiting.

  Her father had left a little while ago, needing to get back to Cane in time for Sunday evening church activities. Andrew was looking better. He’d straightened up, and a few minutes ago he’d draped an arm around her shoulders.

  She leaned against him now, glad of his strength and support.

  She knew she could count on him. Knew he cared for her. A miracle had happened in the last twenty-four hours—and Helen no longer felt obliged to hide in the shadows. Andrew saw her for real. And he saw something in her that
he wanted, that he needed.

  She just couldn’t doubt it anymore.

  Because she was exhausted and kind of out of it, she blinked several times when a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair the same color as Andrew’s entered the waiting room. He looked vaguely familiar, but it took her a minute to place him. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved, crew-necked gray shirt. His features were broader than Andrew’s, and he had a slight five o’clock shadow.

  Andrew had been trying to relax, but she now felt him stiffen beside her. “Geoff,” he said.

  The man she now knew to be Geoffrey Cane approached them, concern evident on his face although he spared a moment to shoot a curious look at Helen, who was still leaning against Andrew’s side. “What’s going on with Melissa?”

  Andrew removed his arm from Helen’s shoulders and stood up to shake Geoffrey’s hand.

  Helen watched as the two men clasped hands. Despite the somewhat impersonal gesture, she saw obvious affection in their expressions. She was so glad he had a brother who loved him. Who’d come all this way for support.

  “I didn’t realize you were coming,” Andrew said, using his free hand to clasp his brother’s shoulder.

  “You sounded so worried when you called that I figured I better. I got a direct flight from Atlanta. Is she all right?”

  “She hasn’t come out of it yet.”

  Geoffrey frowned. “Can’t we see her?”

  “The doctor says not yet.”

  His frown deepening, Geoffrey murmured, “I’m going to talk to the doctor.”

  Helen had almost forgotten that Geoffrey was a doctor as well. A very talented, successful one—specializing in infectious diseases. He didn’t look like a brilliant doctor. He looked like football player, and he walked with a lazy power in his stride.

  He was so different than Andrew, but she suspected they both had the same will of iron.

  When Helen saw that Andrew’s face had relaxed visibly, she smiled. “It was nice of him to come.”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  Geoffrey returned shortly and announced that they were allowed to sit in Melissa’s room. “It was ridiculous not to let us. If she’s mentally retreated, than she needs to hear familiar voices to draw her out of it. She needs to know it’s safe.” He spoke matter-of-factly, almost blandly. And Helen randomly wondered what it would take to make this big man angry.

  Then she realized he was peering at her. He gave her a quirk of a smile. “I’m Geoff.”

  “I’m Helen Walton. I knew you when we were ki—“

  “Pastor Jack’s daughter?” Geoffrey interrupted, his brown eyes widening. “Really? I don’t remember you being so pretty.”

  Helen smiled and blushed at his leisurely regard.

  Andrew cleared his throat loudly and aimed a pointed look at his brother.

  Geoffrey threw back his head and laughed.

  Helen blushed even more.

  ***

  They went into the private room assigned to Melissa. She looked small and pale in the sterile surroundings, and Helen’s heart fluttered in sympathy. “She’ll be so scared when she wakes up.”

  “That’s why we need to be here when she does,” Andrew said, pulling a chair closer to the bed and gesturing Helen into it. “I tried to tell them that earlier, but they wouldn’t listen to me. Thanks, Geoff—for bullying the doctor or whatever you did to get us in here.”

  His brother shrugged and leaned back in the chair he’d dragged up from the far corner. “I just explained the situation. No patient is the same. Doctors do the best they can with what they know.”

  “Should we talk to her?” Helen asked, staring nervously at Melissa’s motionless form.

  “Just talk. Let her hear voices. She’s in there somewhere. She’s just too scared to come out.” Geoffrey leaned over the bed and raised his voice. “Do you hear that, Melissa? I didn’t fly all the way from Atlanta to watch you take a nap.”

  Andrew chuckled. “Don’t listen to him, Melissa. We’re all here, and we’re doing fine.” His eyes flickered over to Helen. “We worked everything out, so there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “And Andrew even agreed to name the dog Rat,” Helen put in, feeling suddenly inspired.

  “Hey!” Andrew objected.

  “I’m definitely missing something,” Geoffrey said. “You have a dog named Rat. That’s a terrible name. What were you thinking, Drew?”

  “See,” Andrew said, speaking to an unconscious Melissa. “Geoff agrees with me.”

  It warmed Helen’s heart to see him looking so encouraged. She would have liked Geoffrey anyway—finding his solid, laidback personality appealing—but she liked him even more since his presence here had taken a lot of the pressure off Andrew.

  Feeling very mushy, she gazed at Andrew, who was absently rubbing the back of his neck again. She desperately hoped that, one day, it would be her job to take care of him. And that she could let him take care of her.

  When she noticed Geoffrey giving her a thoughtful look, she glanced hurriedly away from Andrew, embarrassed that her tender feelings might have been witnessed. To change the subject, she said, “I didn’t know anyone called you Drew.”

  Andrew made a face. “Geoff just calls me that to annoy me. Everyone else calls me Andrew.”

  “I could call you Andy,” Geoffrey said, “So you better be grateful for what you get.”

  Helen laughed and Andrew sneered, although he was obviously doing so good-naturedly. They chatted for a while casually. Geoff made them laugh at the story of his thirteen-year-old daughter’s romantic woes—she was torn between two boys in her class who had both asked her to the school dance.

  After several minutes, Helen gasped when she saw Melissa start to shift restlessly in her bed.

  “Keep talking,” Geoffrey murmured.

  Helen asked him more about his daughter, whom he was raising alone since his wife died. And Geoffrey told her the girl liked to read, play soccer, and shop endlessly at the mall.

  Melissa moved her hands on her blanket.

  Andrew said something teasingly about the shopping habits of women, and Helen, also teasing, objected strenuously to the remark.

  Melissa opened her eyes. They were huge and terrified.

  “It’s all right,” Andrew said, leaning over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. His presence was solid, unwavering, and Helen knew Melissa would feel it. “We’re here. Me and Helen. And even Geoff put in an appearance.”

  Melissa’s eyes flickered between the three of them, torn between terror and interest. “Where am I?” she asked weakly.

  “In the hospital,” Geoffrey said. “You scared the daylights out of us.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Helen cut in, putting an unconscious hand on Andrew’s upper arm as she leaned over with a smile. “We were just waiting for you to wake up.”

  “Oh.” Melissa’s gaze took in the close proximity between Helen and Andrew, Helen’s hand curled gently around his arm. The way he reached up to cover her hand with his.

  Melissa gave a trembling little smile. “I’m sorry it took me so long to wake up. But it’s worth it to see you two like this.”

  ***

  The next day, Andrew walked an exhausted Helen up to the front door of her house. They’d stayed the night in the hospital, since Andrew wouldn’t leave until his sister had been discharged.

  Geoff came back to Cane with them, and he was now in the backseat of the SUV with Melissa.

  Andrew’s eyes lingered on Helen’s face as she tried to unlock the door. The lock was old and she always had to jiggle it to get the key to turn. When she’d finally gotten the door open, she turned to smile up at Andrew.

  “Thank you,” he said, something deep and soft in his eyes.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could be there. I’ll stop by later to see Melissa, if that’s all right.”

  He nodded, but he made no move to go.

  Helen dropped her eyes a little sh
yly at the expression on his face.

  “You should wear your hair down more often,” he murmured. She’d worn her hair up to church the morning before, but it had gradually fallen down throughout the day. This morning she’d given up and brushed it out loose around her shoulders.

  She cheeks warming, she said, “It’s a pain.”

  He reached out to stroke a long strand with his fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

  She blushed even more deeply. Then, before she knew to expect it, he leaned down toward her. Very softly brushed her lips with his.

  She sucked in a quick breath as a deep thrill shuddered through her at the kiss.

  “Get some rest,” Andrew said, pulling away immediately although his eyes never left her face. “You look tired.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Andrew got to church earlier than normal the following Sunday. He sat in his pew and looked around, noticing Helen wasn’t yet in the sanctuary.

  Geoffrey, who’d taken the week off to visit them in Cane, was sitting at home with Melissa this morning. She was doing a lot better, basically back to her normal self now. But Andrew was still anxious about leaving her and was relieved his brother was still around.

  The last week had gone really well, and Andrew was happier than he’d been in a long time. It was great to spend time with his brother, and Helen had come over nearly every evening to hang out with them.

  Andrew had made a point of being careful. Although they had an understanding now, he didn’t feel right saying anything directly about a romantic relationship yet.

  He’d slipped up on Monday when he’d kissed her. He’d been exhausted and drained from twenty-four hours in the hospital, and he’d been deeply moved by Helen’s quiet, unfaltering support and the tenderness in her eyes as she’d gazed up at him next to her door. But he shouldn’t have kissed her. Not when he couldn’t offer her anything more than this. So he’d made a point of being good all week—and he’d resisted kissing her again.

  As if his thoughts had conjured her, he saw her come into the sanctuary with her friend Lorraine. Andrew had met Lorraine earlier in the week and liked the woman’s wry, intelligent perspective. Helen saw him and turned to say something to her friend. Then she walked across the front of the church to join him in the pew.