Ever Faithful

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “It’s Henderson, isn’t it?” Tim sat back, his voice suddenly harsh. “Ever since he’s been back, you’ve been withdrawn. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  Amy didn’t know what to say to that. He was correct, partially. “It’s more than just Paul. It’s living in Vancouver. I can’t live there….”

  “Paul’s only attracted to you because he can’t have you,” Tim interrupted, ignoring her last comment. “I’m positive that as soon as he knows you’re free, he’ll leave and find someone else.”

  “I don’t think so.” She had known Paul all of her life. And she knew that what he had done, what he had told her, was true and real. “But that doesn’t have any bearing on our relationship.”

  “Of course it does, Amy. We have a lifetime ahead of us. We have a good relationship, don’t throw it away. I know you’re upset about selling the ranch, but you couldn’t hang on to it much longer.” Tim leaned forward again, his voice pleading as he tried another tack. “Amy, we love each other. I know God meant for us to be together.”

  Amy blinked, slowly, looking down at her hand. She turned her ring around, watching the rainbows of light shoot out from it. She stretched out her fingers and with deliberate movements, slipped the ring off.

  “You can’t be serious.” Tim didn’t take the ring. “We’ve got everything planned, the condo, the caterer, the invitations, the decorations. My mother is counting on this. I don’t mind postponing it, but at least let’s try another date. A month, maybe two. Whatever you need.”

  “Will we still be living in Vancouver?” Amy asked.

  Tim hesitated. “That’s where my work is. I love my work, Amy.”

  “I know, Tim. And I don’t expect you to give up everything for me.” She paused, still holding on to his ring. “But I’m afraid that if we were to marry, I would resent what I had to give up for you.” She looked up at him, pleading. “I can’t live in the city, Tim. I just can’t, not even for you. And if I can’t, then I don’t think my love for you is strong enough.”

  Tim’s expression hardened. “So as long as Paul wasn’t available I was good enough for you, and now that he’s come back, it’s over.” He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you’re like your mother after all.”

  Amy blinked, cold pressure tightening her temples at his words. She couldn’t dredge up anger, couldn’t manufacture any feeling other than the dull ache that clutched her heart.

  Her mind however, processed his words, words she had once intoned to herself in rebuke, words that had lost their power since she’d spoken with her father.

  But coming from him they were words of betrayal.

  She reached out and dropped the ring with a hollow thunk onto the table.

  “Amy,” he whispered, looking from the ring to her, shaken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was upset.”

  Amy pushed herself carefully back from the table. Tears threatened but she suppressed them. She had loved Tim but she felt she had no right to mourn a relationship whose loss gave her more relief than pain. “I’m sorry, Tim. I loved you, too, but I don’t think I loved you enough.” She slipped on her coat and, turning, left the restaurant. She walked a few steps down the street, faltered, then resolutely walked on. After a few minutes, reality intruded. Tim had brought her here and she could hardly walk home. She glanced down at the dainty high-heeled sandals she wore. Especially not in these shoes.

  She opened her purse, found a quarter and walked back down the street to the pay phone she remembered seeing by the restaurant.

  She dialed Rick’s, but there was no answer. Ditto for her own home. She pulled the quarter out of the machine and stared at it. Did she dare? She had just broken up with her fiancé, how would it look?

  She ignored her doubts. With shaking fingers she deposited the coin in the phone and punched in Hendersons’ number. Elizabeth answered.

  “I’m stuck in town, Mom. I need a ride. Can someone come?” She wrapped her fingers around the cord.

  “Paul and Fred are riding the lease, but I can come.”

  Amy swallowed her disappointment. “That would be nice.” She shivered as another gust of wind blew down the street. “I’m at the pay phone across from the tire store.”

  “I’m leaving right away. See you later.” Elizabeth hung up, and Amy held the receiver a moment, thankful that Elizabeth hadn’t asked any questions.

  She pulled her coat closer around her as she leaned against the wall of the phone booth. The restaurant door opened and Tim walked out. He hesitated, turned and walked toward her.

  “C’mon, Amy. I’ll drive you home.”

  She shook her head. “I just called Elizabeth, she’s going to pick me up.” She couldn’t spend the long drive back home with Tim. Not after what she had just done, what he had just said.

  “I’m sorry, Amy. I shouldn’t have talked that way.” He plowed his hands through his thick hair. “You have to understand. I didn’t expect this. I can’t believe you want to end this. We had a good relationship. Things were going well before—” He stopped and Amy knew what he was going to say.

  Before Paul came back.

  “It doesn’t matter how or why,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve been having doubts for too long now, doubts I didn’t have the courage to face. And yes, like you said, I was afraid I was like my mother. That fear kept me engaged to you and kept me from facing my own doubts. However, I just found out that my mother wanted to be faithful. She wanted to try again.” Amy drew her coat closer, shivering, thinking about how close she had come to going through with a wedding to a man to whom she felt more loyalty than love.

  For a moment the thought of all the arrangements weighed on her mind, but she couldn’t take that burden on. Had it been up to her the wedding and its subsequent celebration would have been simpler, smaller.

  “You didn’t even give it a chance.”

  “No, Tim. Don’t you understand? I couldn’t take the chance. In spite of how hurtful it was, I was afraid that you were right. That I was just like my mother. If I had married you, ‘given it a chance’ I’m afraid of what might have happened to both of us.”

  “So this is it? On the streets of Williams Lake, two years are swept aside?”

  Amy looked around, remembering the mountainside where he had proposed to her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t oblige with a more romantic locale, but I didn’t think of it as a particularly romantic thing to do.”

  “No, I suppose not.” He shifted his weight, glanced once more at her and then took a step backward. “Well, I’ll be away from here in two weeks. I imagine that can’t be soon enough for you.”

  Amy saw the hurt in his eyes and regretted once again putting it there. She resisted the urge to reach out for him, to comfort him. “Please don’t talk that way. I don’t hate you. I did love you…”

  “Not enough to move.”

  She shook her head. “I would have ended up hating you.”

  “Not you, Amy. You don’t know how to hate. I could learn something from you about forgiveness and loving.” He touched her cheek lightly, turned and left.

  Amy dropped her chin on her chest and bit back tears. She had hurt him, she knew that and took no pleasure in it.

  She felt a lone tear trickle down her cheek and she wiped it carefully away, wishing Elizabeth would come so she could talk to her.

  Half an hour later a Henderson farm truck pulled into the street. Amy felt an apprehensive lift of her heart. But as it drew near she saw Elizabeth was driving. When it stopped in front of her, she tried not to feel disappointed. She got in and shivered in the warmth of the cab.

  “It seems like you’re always rescuing me,” she said to Elizabeth as she buckled up her seat belt.

  “Not a problem, dear,” Elizabeth replied, pulling away from the curb. “I wasn’t busy.” Thankfully she said nothing more until they left town behind them and were driving on the highway.

  “So, now you have to tell me how you ended up in to
wn at 7:00 p.m. all on your own when you were supposed to be with Tim.” Elizabeth smiled at Amy as she settled back in the driver’s seat.

  Amy bit her lip, wondering how she was going to explain to the mother of the man she thought she loved, that she had just broken an engagement with the man she was supposed to love. She decided on a pure Danyluk approach. “I broke up with Tim.”

  Out of the corner of her eye Amy watched for Elizabeth’s reaction. Elizabeth only looked ahead, nodding slightly.

  “I’m not too surprised, dear.” She kept her eyes on the road. “Fred and I could see it coming. I wondered if your love for Tim was strong enough to move from here to Vancouver.”

  “I did love him,” Amy added, feeling she needed to justify her actions.

  “Yes, dear, I know you did. Everyone knew you did.” Finally she turned to Amy and smiled. “Don’t load too much guilt on yourself over it, but I think you loved someone else more.”

  “Was it that obvious? I tried so hard,” she said sadly. “I was always so afraid that I was just like…” Amy stopped, feeling like a scratch in a record, always returning to the same place.

  “Just like your mother.” Elizabeth finished the sentence for her. “My dear girl. You’ve been carrying that around ever since you were little, and it’s been even worse since Paul came back. But you know who you are.” Elizabeth reached across the truck and squeezed Amy’s hand in reassurance. She straightened, taking the wheel again, looking ahead. “In some ways you’re very much like your mother,” she continued, “but in other ways, so different. You have your mother’s sensitivity and your father’s stubbornness. Your mother’s selflessness and your father’s self-righteousness. And mixed in with that you have a very caring, loving nature that is pure Amy.”

  At Elizabeth’s kind words Amy felt a deep sadness well within her. She didn’t know where it came from, only that she needed to let it go. She dropped her face in her hands and began to cry.

  Elizabeth pulled the truck over and drew Amy into her arms. “It’s okay, dear, you just cry. It’s been a hard few months for you.” She stroked Amy’s face and let her pour out her sorrow. Each sob, each tear seemed to cleanse and draw out all the confusion of the events of the past month. Her sorrow mingled with prayers for guidance as she lay in the secure comfort of both her surrogate mother and her God.

  When the heartache was drained from her soul, Amy straightened and sniffed. Elizabeth reached past Amy to the glove box, pulled out a box of tissues and handed it to her. “Blow your nose and stop thinking. Trust that God will take care of you and let Him do the fussing.”

  Amy nodded and, drawing in a deep breath, sat back as Elizabeth pulled onto the highway. She closed her eyes, as peace washed over her once again. She didn’t know what she was going to do, didn’t want to think past this moment, but for the first time in months, the future wasn’t something to avoid.

  Elizabeth pulled up in front of Amy’s house and left the truck idling. “Why don’t you run in and get a few clothes together. You should stay at our place tonight.”

  Amy turned her head toward Elizabeth and smiled her thanks.

  Upstairs in her old bedroom, she quickly gathered up a spare change of clothes and her overnight things and dropped them into her suitcase—the one she had just unpacked a few days ago when she came back from Vancouver. But this time a subdued excitement hurried her motions, quickened her heart.

  She was going to Hendersons’ and Paul would be there.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Paul drew his horse to a halt and arched his shoulders forward. His back was stiff, his knees hurt, and he was aware of muscles and bones he didn’t even know he possessed.

  He had forgotten how tiring eight hours in the saddle could be. All the way down the hills he had been calculating how much longer before he could get out of the saddle and whether he would ever be able to walk upright again.

  Sasha shook her head, reminding Paul that she had been carrying him eight hours. With a groan he dismounted and, pressing a hand on his back, arched backward easing the stiffness out of it.

  His father drew up beside him and easily stepped out of the saddle. He grinned at Paul, tossed the reins over Trooper’s head and without missing a beat led him to the hitching rail.

  “Show-off,” mumbled Paul as he stretched his stiff legs and slowly started walking.

  “Long day isn’t it,” said Fred amiably as Paul tied Sasha up.

  Paul said nothing, only gave his father a level look and began tugging loose the latigo holding the cinch strap. By the time Paul had the saddle back in the tack shed and the blanket laid out to dry, his father was already done and leading Trooper out to pasture.

  It took Paul a little longer to brush Sasha down and take the bridle off. He let her go to join her friend who was already rolling on the ground, and Paul joined his father leaning on the top rail of the fence.

  “So, son. Day like today didn’t make you change your mind about staying?”

  Paul yawned so hard his jaw almost cracked, but as he did so he slowly shook his head. “No,” he said finally, his hands dangling down as he watched Sasha and Trooper lift their tails and tear off to the other end of the pasture. “Not at all.” He smiled almost dreamily, rotating his shoulders. He was exhausted, but it was a good tired.

  Fred crossed his arms and leaned his chin on his hands. “And what about Amy?”

  Paul stiffened at the mention of her name. He couldn’t help it. “What about her?” he asked, affecting a nonchalant air.

  “She’s going to be married and moving away. Does that make a difference?” Fred turned his head slightly and, with his thumb, pushed the brim of his cowboy hat up a little.

  Paul sighed lightly and shrugged. “It does. But I still want to be out here.” He looked up at the darkening sky. The cooling air held the bite of fall, a reminder of winter approaching. He smiled a slow smile. “I can’t go back to the city. I feel sorry for Amy if she thinks she can. I tried to tell her, and I’m resisting the urge, sore as I am, to get back on Sasha and ride over there and try again.” He took a deep breath, stilling the panic that started within him whenever he thought of Amy’s approaching marriage. He struggled again to let go, sending yet another quick prayer heavenward. “I feel closer to God here, Dad, and I know that shouldn’t change with my surroundings, but it does.”

  Fred straightened and squeezed Paul’s shoulder, hard and quick. A man’s hug. His father wasn’t given to overt displays of affection, but his boys knew clearly that they were loved and cared for.

  “I’m going in. I’m sure supper’s overdone by now.” Fred turned and walked away, a soft whistle trailing him.

  Paul waited a moment, relishing the emptiness of his stomach. It didn’t matter if supper was dry or overcooked, it would taste delicious. He drew in a deep breath of cool air, rolled his head, prayed again that Amy would be happy and turned to the house.

  He pulled his boots off in the porch and almost dropped them on top of a pair of dainty high heels. Looked like his mom had company. Saleslady, Paul thought, nudging the shoes aside to make room for his boots. He hung his coat up, finger combed his hair, pushed open the door to the kitchen and stopped.

  Amy half turned, her hair slipping across her shoulders, her gray eyes softening as she saw him. She wore a pale bronze dress that brought out the highlights in her hair and emphasized the delicate tones of her skin.

  Paul swallowed, curbing the desire to drag her out of her chair and wrap his arms around her, hard. Instead he nodded at her curtly, mumbled a quick hello to his mother, then turned and headed for the bathroom to wash up.

  The soft murmur of voices reached him as he ran the water over his hands, concentrating on getting all the grime out from under his fingernails, stalling.

  What was Amy doing here? She was supposed to be in town making plans for her wedding.

  Maybe she had finally changed her mind? Maybe she had come to tell him she had made a mistake and she was now ready to
live with him, happily ever after?

  Paul rinsed the sink out and looked up into the mirror. He needed a haircut, he needed a shave and he needed to have his head examined. Amy was as stubborn as Judd, and she carried around the burden of her mother’s unfaithfulness. He couldn’t fight that.

  He wiped his hands on the towel, dragged his hands over his face and steeled himself to hear more of her wedding plans. I just wish I could be truly happy for her, Lord, he prayed. But I can’t. And I can’t because I don’t think she will be happy if she goes through with this.

  He entered the kitchen.

  Amy stood by the table as if waiting for him.

  “Where’s my mom and dad?” Paul frowned as he glanced around the kitchen. A place was set for him at the table, a covered plate on a place mat, flanked by silverware.

  “Your mom and dad thought maybe we should talk,” Amy said softly. “Alone.”

  Once again Paul swallowed, his heart speeding up, his breathing shallow. “What…” He stopped and cleared his throat, feeling as uncertain as a teenager. “What are we supposed to talk about?” He pulled the chair out from the table and sat down, concentrating on uncovering his food, arranging his silverware just so.

  Amy sat down diagonally from him, her hands folded on the table in front of her. He heard her draw a breath, and just before he closed his eyes to thank God for the food, he saw it.

  She no longer wore her engagement ring.

  Paul reached over and caught her hand, separating the intertwined fingers, running his own over the spot her engagement ring had once been. “Where’s your ring?” he asked, hardly daring to hope.

  “I gave it back to Tim.”

  Paul continued rubbing her finger as her words slowly sank in. “Why?”

  “Because you were right. Because I didn’t love him enough. Because I was staying faithful to him for the wrong reasons.”

  Amy let her fingers slowly twine through his as she spoke—hers now soft, his callused. She squeezed his hand, as if encouraging. Paul slowly lifted them to his mouth, resting his lips against them. He drew a deep breath and slowly let it out again.