Healing the Doctor's Heart

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Healing the Doctor's Heart Page 11

by Carolyne Aarsen

She held his gaze, her heart beginning a slow, heavy pounding. “I think you should go back to being a doctor.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t withdraw from her. Didn’t even negate the comment as, she was sure, he might have a couple of days ago.

  “Tell me why I should.”

  His words held a challenge she wasn’t sure she was up to, but she plunged on, going on instinct and hoping to build on what they had established here in this kitchen.

  “I’m no counselor and I’m sure he might have told you this, but I read something that really resonated with me. There are two parts to us. How we see ourselves and who we want to be. Often the two aren’t the same.” She held his gaze, feeling he would listen to what she had to say. “I think you’ve been trying to tell yourself you’re not a doctor. That’s how you’ve been seeing yourself. But so many of the things I see you do, how I see you react, tells me that in spite of not wanting Adam to call you Dr. Ben and despite not wanting to think about being a doctor, really, truly, it’s who you are. It’s who you want to be. I believe it’s who God meant for you to be.”

  Ben pulled his hands away from her and she felt a trickle of sorrow at the break in the connection. To her surprise, he didn’t negate her comment.

  In fact he didn’t say anything. He sat a moment; then, to her surprise, he reached over and gently brushed her hair away from her face.

  His touch sent a tingle racing down her spine and it wasn’t as unwelcome as it should have been.

  “You’re quite a woman, Shannon Deacon. Full of wisdom and faith and strength. Any man would be lucky—no, blessed—to have you.”

  His quiet words settled into her heart, easing away old pains and humiliations.

  His eyes found hers and she didn’t look away. Silence, heavy and expectant, fell on them and Shannon felt as if every beat of her heart thundered in the quiet.

  Ben eked out a smile, as his hand cupped her chin. Then he blinked and it was as if a shutter fell down on his features.

  “I should go upstairs and see if that roof is still leaking” was all he said.

  Shannon tried not to be disappointed as he pushed himself to his feet. What did she expect? That he would raise his hands and exclaim that thanks to her words of wisdom he’d seen the light?

  That he would kiss her?

  She shook that thought off. She didn’t want him to kiss her.

  Please be with him, Lord, she prayed as he made his way up the stairs. Please help him find himself.

  She stayed where she was, choosing not to follow him, though her heart yearned to go after him, to try to find closure to their discussion.

  Arthur had always accused her of not giving him space, of trying to organize every aspect of his life. Well, maybe he was right. So instead of following her impulse, she folded her hands in her lap, lowered her head and held him up in prayer.

  Right now she could do no more.

  Chapter Eight

  Looking good, Ben thought, tugging on the shingles he had replaced in the pouring rain yesterday. He sent a quick glance over the rest of the roof and frowned. Though the roof was leakproof for now, the shingles on this side would have to be replaced in the next year.

  He brushed the grit from the shingles off his knees and pushed himself to his feet. As he stood, the mournful wail of the train’s horn echoing across the valley caught his attention. He looked over in time to see the train rumbling through the first crossing at the edge of town, the wheels sending out an insistent rhythm that had become familiar to him the past days.

  From there his eyes drifted up, as they always did, to the hills beyond the tracks and from there to the large mountain overlooking town where the ski resort was located. Shannon had mentioned that she and her sisters used to snowboard every winter on the mountain with their friends. This, too, was part of the rhythm of the town.

  He felt a small twinge of jealousy at the connections Shannon had forged here. The people who were part of her present and past.

  Ben’s father had worked for a large international corporation that moved him every two or three years to various parts of North America, including one stint overseas in Sweden.

  As a result, Ben and Arthur had always been making new friends, establishing new connections. Home, family and community abided wherever his parents and his brother lived.

  When his father died, his mother returned to Toronto. After she lost her job there, she’d moved them all back to Ottawa where she had grown up.

  When Ben graduated from high school he’d moved back to Toronto for university and med school. Then his mother, alone after Arthur moved out of the house, had asked him to come to Ottawa. Which he had. Then he’d met Saskia, who had moved there from Yellowknife to find a better life.

  He let memories of Saskia slip into his mind, thinking, again, of what he and Shannon had spoken of last night. When she’d told him that it wasn’t his fault Saskia had died; when she’d said that it was Saskia’s choices that had led to her death, not his, he’d felt the first stirrings of relief. Of a weight slipping off his shoulders.

  He had tried to fight it, thinking that somehow it wasn’t right to release the burden he’d been carrying.

  He thought back to the passage his mother read after dinner the other day. From Matthew. Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. The part of the passage that resonated the most was, I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

  The Bible passage stole into his mind and reinforced what Shannon had told him. Rest for a weary soul. Such an elusive thing for him the past few years.

  Then he looked around at the town again. From this height he could see the buildings of downtown. If he turned he could see where the river curved and on its banks he caught the glint of a fishing line from a fly fisherman who stood on the bank, his rhythmic casting sending the line into the river.

  The shriek of laughter caught his attention as two young boys zipped up the street on their bicycles. One of them saw him and waved.

  Peace. That elusive emotion had slowly come to him here in Hartley Creek, the last place he’d thought he would find it, especially once he found out that Shannon, his brother’s ex-fiancée, lived next door.

  He smiled, thinking of Shannon. Thinking of the connection they had shared last night and on the trip back from the ranch.

  He felt a bond was building between them and he was sure he wasn’t the only one aware of it. Last night, when he had held Shannon’s hands he’d felt a connection, an awareness. She was easing into his thoughts and into his life.

  Then when he had stroked her hair away from her face, he’d felt as if time had wheeled and stopped, waiting for something more to happen between them.

  “Did you get all the leaks?”

  The sound of Shannon’s voice below coming so close on the heels of his wayward thoughts made his heart flop over and his breath quicken.

  He walked to the edge of the house and looked down. Shannon looked up at him shading her eyes. She still wore her nurse’s scrubs, but her hair hung loose around her shoulders, just the way he liked it best.

  “I think I got them all,” he said. “But your grandmother will need to do some major roof repair in the next year.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” she returned with a laugh. “Are you done up there?”

  “Yes, I am.” He clambered down the ladder, stifling the sense of eagerness her presence brought. At the bottom he took a breath to center his foolish thoughts before turning to her.

  She was smiling, her arms folded over her chest. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

  “Not much. Mom wants me to help her rearrange furniture, but she left an hour ago and hasn’t come back.”

  “So, not a
real tight schedule?”

  “No,” he returned with a chuckle.

  She nodded, twisting her foot in the grass. “Um, I was wondering if I could ask a favor?” Both her question and her smile were guarded. “I was wondering if I could borrow your truck and, hopefully, you.”

  Ben smiled at her question. He held his hands out in a gesture of goodwill. “My truck and I are at your disposal.”

  Her smile solidified. “That would be great. Emma called me at work an hour ago in a huge panic. Carter had to make an emergency trip with a bull to the vet and he’s got his truck and stock trailer tied up. She needed some stuff picked up and delivered to the hall for the wedding.”

  “No problem at all.” The thought of spending time with Shannon was more appealing than it ought to be.

  “I’ve got a few things up in my room that need to go, too,” she added. “If you don’t mind helping me get them down, that would be great.”

  Ben couldn’t help a quick glance at his watch. Four o’clock. “How long will this take?”

  “Hopefully not that long,” Shannon said as she led the way up to the house. “But if you need to help your mother—”

  He held his hand up to stop her. “I think my mother can live with the couch under the window for another day.”

  Besides, the way his mother and Mrs. Beck had made arrangements for him and Shannon to “meet,” he was sure his mother preferred he spend time with Shannon anyhow.

  He followed her up the stairs, shooting a quick look into the living room.

  “You did a great job on that wall and the one in the kitchen,” Shannon said, catching the direction of his glance. “You are a man of many talents.”

  “True Renaissance man,” he replied, giving her a smile.

  There it was again. That little spark, that little thrill. Those nebulous beginnings of relationship.

  His practical reaction was to brush them aside, but as her eyes softened and her smile grew, he let his misgivings fade into the background. This was here and this was now. And for now, he was willing to see where things led.

  Shannon pushed open the door of her room and hung her purse up on the back of a chair sitting in front of a mirror.

  A person’s bedroom was like a glimpse into her personality. What he saw of Shannon’s room reinforced his own impression of her. Neat. Tidy. Organized.

  Yet the framed pictures crowding the top of the dresser, the whimsical figurines parading across a shelf above her bed, the print of a single flower on a mountainside, bending in the wind, also showed a softer side to the woman he was coming to know.

  As did the open Bible on the little table beside her bed.

  “If you could bring these down for me, we can get them in the truck first,” Shannon was saying, grunting as she dragged something across the floor.

  He stepped inside the room to help her. She was pulling a cardboard box out of her closet.

  “Here, I’ll get that,” he said, bending over to help her. He grabbed the box, lifted it and as he straightened, he realized he had captured the corner of a plastic garment bag hanging from the back of the closet door. He turned to free himself but pulled the bag loose from the hook and it tumbled down in a heap of white at his feet.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, looking down, feeling a bit foolish. “I hope I didn’t get it dirty.”

  “Not to worry,” Shannon assured him as she pulled the bag free from his arm and gathered up the dress from the floor. “I should get rid of this anyway.”

  Ben stepped back as she hung it back up again. He felt a touch of dismay when he saw what it was.

  Her old wedding dress.

  “So that’s all I need from here,” she said, glancing around the room as if making sure she had everything. She ignored the dress so he thought he should, too. “We can bring this lot down and then head over to the florist’s to pick up the pillars.”

  She marched out of the room ahead of him, a woman with a purpose.

  Before he followed her he sent another quick look over his shoulder at the dress now hanging crookedly on the back of Shannon’s closet door. The dress she was supposed to wear to marry his brother.

  * * *

  Shannon pushed open the door of the room beside the stage and stepped into the musty interior. She felt along the wall and found the switch. Watery light from a bare bulb barely chased away the shadows in the room.

  “We can put most of the stuff in here for now,” she told Ben as she pushed aside an empty appliance box that, for some reason, stood in the center of the storage room.

  Ben dropped the tall, white column on the floor with a muffled thump. “Thing is heavier than it looks,” he muttered, working a kink out of his back.

  “I said I would help you,” Shannon said, pushing some more boxes out of the way.

  “What kind of man am I if I can’t carry a white pillar thingy?”

  Shannon laughed, then followed Ben as they headed out the door again. “One down, five to go,” she encouraged.

  “What are they for anyway?” Ben asked as they strode across the hall, their footsteps echoing in the cool empty space.

  “The shorter ones are for flower arrangements. The tall ones will have a rod connecting them with a curtain hanging from the rod.”

  “And that goes…?”

  “Behind the head table.”

  “Carter is okay with all of this?” Ben sounded dumbfounded.

  “Carter is so head over heels he’s letting Emma do whatever her little self wants,” Shannon said, pushing the door open and stepping out into the bright afternoon light.

  “Seems like a lot of work for one night,” Ben grumbled as they walked over to his truck.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t do anything special for your wedding,” she teased him.

  “Okay, I won’t,” he replied.

  To her surprise he smiled when he said that. Seeing her chance, she asked him, “So what did you and Saskia do for your wedding?”

  She almost held her breath when he didn’t reply right away. Had she overstepped her boundaries? She thought it would be healthy for him to talk about Saskia. To realize she was a part of his life in other ways.

  “Actually, we eloped,” he said finally. “Neither her parents or my mother had much money. We figured it was the easiest thing to do.”

  “So no church wedding? No flowers?” Shannon asked as Ben vaulted up onto the back of the truck and handed her a smaller pillar.

  “Saskia had flowers,” Ben said. “Can’t remember what kind, though.” Then he shrugged as he pulled another larger pillar off the truck. “Anyway, it was her and me and a JP and our friends who were married already. Simple.”

  Shannon felt a twinge of melancholy. Was that why Arthur had balked when she planned her wedding? Had he wanted to do the same thing his brother did?

  Her thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up and two girls spilled out. One of them was Hailey. The other girl was tall and slender, her black hair topped with a fedora, which was a surprising contrast to her long flowing dress and leather sandals. Evangeline Arsenau. The owner of the Book Nook and friend of Emma.

  “Hey, girls, high time you showed up,” Shannon called out. “We’ve got to get this truck unloaded and then make one more trip to the ranch to pick up the stuff Emma has for the tables.”

  “We thought you’d have it all done by now,” Hailey called back, pulling a bunch of bags out of the trunk of her car. “Here, Evangeline, can you grab the candles out of the car? Shannon, show me where you want this.”

  “So what is all this stuff you still have to pick up?” Ben asked as he heaved another pillar out of the truck.

  Hailey shot Shannon a concerned glance, which Shannon returned with a
shrug. “Most of this was stuff I had bought and got together for…well…for the wedding last year,” she told Ben, pleased at the breezy tone in her voice. “My wedding.”

  Ben held her gaze a moment, then nodded. “Nice that Emma can use them.”

  “It is, for sure.”

  Their gazes held a moment longer; then, cheeks flushing, Shannon turned away.

  Hailey pulled open the hall door and Shannon stepped inside, thankful for the cool air on her now-heated face.

  Hailey had barely let the door fall behind her when she grabbed Shannon’s arm and dragged her across the empty hall.

  “Okay, did I imagine the goo-goo eyes you and Ben were making at each other just now?” she whispered. Except her whisper was loud enough to echo in the hall.

  “Would you be quiet?” Shannon glanced over her shoulder, but thankfully the door behind them was still shut.

  “I mean, first he brings you to the ranch, you and him have a little time out just the two of you, and now he’s helping you shuttle stuff around for the wedding?”

  Shannon wished her heart didn’t do that girly tumble thing at Hailey’s innuendos. But she would be lying if she said nothing was going on between her and Ben.

  “He’s a good friend,” she replied, pulling open the door of the storage room.

  Hailey punched her sister on the shoulder. “You’re not a movie star or a pop singer so you’re not allowed to vague up your comments. What’s the deal? I know there’s something going on because Nana said he’s taking you to the wedding.”

  They stepped inside the storage room and as the door fell shut behind them Shannon set the pillar down, then turned to her sister. Now that she and Hailey were in this secluded place, she felt some of her inhibitions lower.

  “He’s…complicated” was all she said. “Yes, I think I like him, but there’s a lot of other things going on and right now I don’t need the hassle.”

  Her sister dropped her head to one side in a “you’ve got to be kidding” look that was classic Hailey.

  “I mean, he’s got this guilt over his ex-wife’s death and I’ve got the whole Arthur-dumped-me complex, and the fact that Arthur is his brother…” Shannon lifted her hands and let them drop. “Like I said, complicated.”

 

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