Ever Faithful

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “Yes.” Amy rubbed her temple with one finger, knowing Elizabeth was right. But somehow she couldn’t shake the idea that the future and the past were inextricably interwoven. “We looked at a number of different places.” They had finally agreed on a condominium tucked in among others, overlooking a small patch of green Tim called a park. When she stood inside, looking out at all the concrete and glass, panic had gripped her and she had to get out.

  Elizabeth glanced upward, her hands still holding the skirt. “And living in Vancouver is a certainty?”

  The question hung in the quiet air of the sunlit room. Amy took a deep breath, feeling her body strain against the taut material of the dress. “Yes. That’s one of the biggest reasons we sold the ranch.”

  “You’ll find all kinds of things to keep you busy there, no doubt. Paul was always going on about all the things there are to do,” she continued, leaning back on her heels, looking up at Amy with thoughtful eyes. “It will be a change for you, though.”

  Amy lifted one shoulder, thinking of the small apartment and the even smaller balcony. Suddenly she could hold it in no longer. “I don’t know, Mom,” she blurted out. “I just don’t know if I can move there.”

  Elizabeth got to her feet, and handed Amy her veil. “This is a hard time for you to have doubts. Have you talked to Tim about this?”

  Amy bit her lip. “We did before. And he’d always given me the impression that he was going to live at the ranch. Then he throws this Vancouver thing at me, and suddenly we don’t have time to talk about it.”

  “I think you had better find the time.”

  I know, thought Amy, but when? Each day brought the wedding closer, each thing they bought with Tim’s credit card laid one more burden of obligation on her shoulders, one more thing she felt she couldn’t go back on.

  She wished she could just postpone the whole thing, wait and see.

  But wait for what?

  The question hovered unanswered. Fear kept it in the back of her mind where it couldn’t be examined too closely. She turned the veil over in her hand, watching the sun spangling on the sequins of the headpiece.

  “I guess, I’ll have to.”

  “And in the meantime, things keep moving on.” Elizabeth walked once more around her, examining, checking for loose buttons, threads. “Do you want some help taking the dress off? If not, I have to leave. Fred and I are going into town.” Elizabeth winked at Amy. “Got to decide on a wedding present.”

  Amy felt the entire room close in on her. She felt like a rudderless boat on a river, hurtling toward an unknown destination, powerless to stop anything. What had she started with a simple yes?

  “So that’s your wedding dress.”

  Amy whirled around, clutching the gauze netting of the veil to her stomach, her heart in her throat at the sound of the deep voice.

  Paul! What was he doing here in the middle of the week?

  He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Pushing himself off, he sauntered into the living room. He shoved his hands in his rear pockets, pursed his mouth in a soundless whistle and walked once around her.

  “You picked this out?” he asked, his deep blue eyes meeting hers. He stepped away as if to get a better look, his hand rubbing his chin. “Doesn’t look like the Amy Danyluk I know and love.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Amy almost snapped at him, more angry at her own reaction to him than at his steady perusal. She didn’t want Paul to see her in her wedding dress; it seemed so final.

  Especially when the sight of him shot a thrill through her….

  “I better get ready to go,” Elizabeth said. “Amy you’re welcome to stay for supper.” She got up, adjusting her hip-length sweater.

  Amy shook her head. “Sorry, I have to meet Tim in town to do some arranging for the wedding, and then we have premarital classes. Dad is staying over at Rick’s tonight. But I was wondering if I could leave the dress here.”

  “Okay.” Elizabeth smiled at Amy, patting her icy hand. “I hope you have a nice evening.” As she left, Elizabeth shot a warning glance at her son. He ignored it.

  Paul stood in front of Amy, trying to act nonchalant. Hard to do when the sight of her in that wedding dress terrified him like nothing ever had before. She was going through with this!

  “He still determined to pull you out of here and drag you to Vancouver?” Paul didn’t even try to keep the bitter tone out of his voice.

  “We do plan on living in Vancouver, yes.”

  Goodness she sounded prim. But Paul was encouraged by the sudden glint of fear in her soft gray eyes.

  “Think you can do it?”

  She said nothing, just bit her lip and stared down at the veil she slowly crushed with her fingers.

  “Amy…” He shoved a hand through his hair, trying to find the words, trying to figure out what he could say to make her wait. He had told her he loved her; he wasn’t arrogant enough to think those words alone would make her change her mind. “Amy, he can’t make you live there. It’s not your place.”

  The soft rustling of the netting was the only sound in the heavy silence.

  “Amy, you have nothing in common with him. You two are so different from each other. You like things simple, he likes them fancy. I know you want a casual wedding, he certainly doesn’t. Not from the things Shannon tells me. I mean, look at this dress. I know you didn’t pick it out.”

  She kept her head down, her fingers working at a loose sequin.

  “And now you’re moving to Vancouver?”

  Amy clutched the veil harder, her fingers white. Tension clenched her jaw tight, and her words were forced. “The ranch is sold. Tim’s job is there, where else would I live?”

  He stepped closer, peeling her fingers away from the ruined veil, all his pent-up frustration trying to find a release, trying to find a crack in the wall she had built around herself since he came back. “Amy trust me. You can’t live in Vancouver. I know what I’m talking about. It will kill you.”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting caught up in this, Paul.” She lifted her chin, her pose belligerent. “You come in and out of this place as often as the grader shows up on our road, and every time you come you’ve got a different girlfriend. You throw a few words at me and expect me to drop a man who has promised to share his whole life with me….”

  “Amy, the words I gave you were the only ones I had a right to. I can give you a whole lot more, but I have some sense of honor, believe it or not.” He swallowed down his anger and hurt at her accusations. “As long as you’ve decided you’re going to marry Tim Enders, I can’t say more than I love you.”

  “Like you’ve said to Stacy and Alicia and Juanita and…and—?” Amy sounded almost desperate “—a dozen other girls.”

  Paul swallowed, hurt at her accusations, seeing himself through her eyes. “You may not believe this, Amy, but I’ve only told one girl that I love her.” Paul caught her by the arms, forcing her gray eyes to look directly into his. “And that girl is you.”

  She looked up at him, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice hard. “I know you too well, Paul. You’ve had so many girlfriends, lived away so long…”

  “You may think you know everything about me, Amy, but believe it or not, somewhere between ten years ago and now, I’ve changed.”

  “That’s convenient.” Amy narrowed her eyes as if challenging him. “You know what your problem is? You’re jealous and you don’t like it that maybe, for once in her life, Amy Danyluk likes someone other than Paul Henderson.”

  “Like?” he asked, incredulous. “You are getting married to someone you like?”

  She pulled back, her voice bitter, ignoring his comment. “I wish you’d just decide what it is you want.”

  “I’ve made that very clear. I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve just never deserved you.”

  Amy’s shoulders sagged, her eyes drifted closed, then she shook her head, once.
<
br />   “I’m not a possession you can pick up and put down whenever the mood strikes you,” she whispered. “I made a promise to Tim, not you.”

  “I have never seen you as a possession, Amy. I’ve always respected you for your beliefs, your strong faith. And it was that faith that kept me away from you. I’ve had to make some decisions myself in my own faith life. I’ve told you about them.” Paul watched her face, praying for some sign that she was listening, that she wasn’t shutting him out. “But I’ve had to make other decisions as well these past few weeks. I’ve sold everything I had in Vancouver.”

  Amy lifted her head, her eyes wide with disbelief.

  Paul laughed shortly. “It’s all gone. Henderson Contractors has been officially sold, and I’ve moved back home. And do you know why, Amy?” He held her eyes, his gaze steady. “I did it for you. For us. I did it because I love you, and I’ll keep telling you until you believe it.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head as if to push away all that he had just said. She held out the skirt of her dress, her eyes pleading, her voice strained. “See this, Paul? This is the dress I’m going to wear when I marry Tim. It’s him that I love.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  Amy clenched her hands tighter around the soft material of the dress. “How can you say that? Since you’ve come back I’ve never, with any word or action or—” she faltered “—anything, encouraged you.”

  “And what about before that?”

  “That’s unfair.”

  Paul took a steadying breath, trying to still the urgency that coursed through him. Forcing himself to relax, he kept his eyes on hers, a wry smile curving his lips. “You may think you haven’t encouraged me, but you did, Amy. Every time we look at each other, it happens. Every time we touch each other, every time we’re together.” He took a step closer, unable to keep his hands away from her. He traced the delicate line of her lips, touched her eyebrows, cupped her chin.

  She resisted his touch, stood her ground, her back stiff in that virginal white dress, that dress in which she was bound and determined to marry Tim Enders. “That isn’t love, Paul,” she said. “That’s what’s left of some foolish old crush that I should have gotten over years ago.”

  “But it started out that way…”

  “Why do you throw that in my face?” Amy cried out. “I’ve tried so hard to get you out of my life.”

  “Why?” Paul lowered his voice, forced himself to keep quiet. They hovered on the brink of a discovery that, once unearthed, would change their futures. His prayers and yearning became one as his hand slipped around her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair at the nape of her neck.

  “Do you know how much Tim’s spent on this wedding—on the invitations, the decorations…this dress? I can’t just call it off.” She hugged herself, her hands cupped tightly around her elbows, as if holding herself steady. “If I do, how am I supposed to live with the knowledge that I’m just as bad as my mother, just as easily swayed, just as unfaithful?”

  And finally Paul understood.

  Oh, Lord, he prayed, put the right words in my mouth, give me right motives. Help me say what I say out of love for Amy. Help me to show her that what she is doing, she’s doing for the wrong reasons.

  “Amy—” his voice was quiet, pleading “—if you go ahead and marry Tim…” He hesitated, and Amy pressed her chin against her chest. He couldn’t stop himself from touching the red-gold of her hair, her delicate shoulder. His fingers feathered up and down the silk covering her arm, as if urging her to look up at him. “If you marry Tim now, knowing how I feel about you, having to convince yourself that you love him…” He dropped his hand and Amy almost sagged with relief.

  “Amy if you do that, you will end up exactly like your mother.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Once home, Amy walked around the empty yard, trying to still a pounding heart. She couldn’t dwell on what Paul said. It cut too deep, the promise in his eyes hurt too much. He was a few years too late with his avowal of love.

  She had made a promise to Tim. He was a good man. He was a Christian.

  So is Paul.

  I can’t break my promise. I can’t do that.

  Her thoughts chased each other around. Her mind was too busy and she had no work to alleviate it with. The cows had been shipped a couple of days ago. The Drozd boys had baled a few rounds then quit. Amy itched to get out there and do something, anything, but both the tractor and baler had been sold at the auction.

  Tomorrow she would leave for Vancouver. In a couple of weeks everything she owned would be moved to the condo in Vancouver where she and Tim would live after the honeymoon.

  She leaned on a rough board fence as the cool wind of fall swept down the hills, a harbinger of the cold weather to come.

  She shivered a moment, wondering what winter was like in a city. There would be no snow to shovel, no animals to feed. No tractors to start in twenty-below weather.

  It could be okay. It would have to be okay.

  So why did Paul’s words echo through her mind each time she thought about moving? His declarations of love promised her something she had been waiting for since she was a young girl.

  But she had gone past that, had grown out of it. She’d made a promise to someone who loved her and had made a commitment to her. Sure they had their differences. Didn’t any married couple? She wasn’t about to turn her back on that on the basis of a few words from someone who was probably just jealous.

  But a man wouldn’t sell everything he owned to come back just because he was jealous. He did that for stronger reasons.

  Amy leaned her elbows on the fence, rested her chin on her stacked hands wishing she could just get married and be done with all this second-guessing. It would all go away then.

  Once again she looked to the mountains, the line from the psalm coming back to her “I lift up mine eyes to the hills, from where comes my help?”

  “My help comes from the Lord,” she breathed out loud, the words drifting with the soft wind that teased the grass beyond the fence. She closed her eyes, letting God’s peace flow over her as she prayed for patience, wisdom and strength and whatever else the Lord thought she might need.

  She pushed herself away from the fence and walked back to the house.

  Her father sat at the kitchen table, papers scattered around. He looked up when she came in and smiled at her.

  Amy dropped into a chair across from him, turning a piece of paper toward her. On it was a drawing of a chair portrayed from different angles. “What are you working on?”

  Judd made a few more notes, then looked up. “I got the idea during our auction sale.” He frowned, added a few numbers and sat back. “You know those deck chairs we made?”

  Amy held his gaze, her own face impassive. As if she’d forget. Paul Henderson bought them for one thousand, five hundred dollars. Tim had finally backed down when he knew that Paul wasn’t going to quit. Tim was angry all the way to Vancouver.

  “Well—” Judd cleared his throat, as if he knew he had trod on shaky ground “—I had a bunch of people ask me where they came from. One guy that came up for the auction has a furniture place in Surrey. He’s been looking for unique and well-made deck furniture. He wants me to make him a couple more, maybe a table to go with it. If they sell, I got me a new job.”

  “Where would you make them?” Amy asked hesitantly, hardly daring to think that her prayers for her father had been answered so quickly.

  “Rick said Jack has a place in town with a shop that he never uses. Does all of his work at the garage. He said I could set some stuff up in there. From what we made at the auction, I can buy a couple of really nice power tools, add them to what I already have, and I’m in business.” Judd grinned at Amy.

  “Can even sit down on the job most of the time.”

  The peace she felt when she came into the house seemed to swell, and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. “This sounds pretty promising,
Dad.”

  “I think it’ll fly. Rick’s picking me up later, and we’re going to check out the shop. I’ll be staying at his place tonight.”

  Amy nodded. “What material would you use?”

  “I’ve been phoning around. There’s a little mill on Vancouver Island that has a deal on some cedar and will custom cut some of the squares. He knows a guy that will kiln dry them as well. All I have to do is plane them down.” Judd leaned forward, pulling the plans out of Amy’s hands. “I figure I’ll stick with the pattern we came up with for the chairs Paul bought. Give it a European look. Maybe stain the frame a darker color than the back slats.” With an eagerness Amy had never seen before, Judd laid out his plans explaining how he would join them, how long it might possibly take.

  “Will you be able to compete with the assembly-line furniture makers?”

  Judd waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “No one makes really good lawn furniture. The guy seemed really excited. Said he’d never seen chairs like that.” Judd rubbed his chin. “It might not go anywhere, but it’s a start.” He leaned over the paper and jotted down a few more numbers and glanced up at the clock. “I thought Tim was coming for you in fifteen minutes. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

  “Yes,” Amy looked at the paper with her father’s handwriting scrawling across it willy-nilly, wishing she could go along with her father and Rick instead, making plans for her father’s future instead of hers.

  “You don’t sound really excited about it.”

  “Well, Tim has enough excitement for the two of us. I’m lucky he’s so organized. If it was up to me, we’d probably end up having to elope.”

  Judd nodded, rubbing his whiskered chin once again. “Tim still ticked at Paul?”