Paige inwardly cringed. She hated being the cause of any more pain for Nathan and Zach.
Goliath grunted and plopped his head down on his paws, as if protesting Zach’s lack of attention.
Zach fiddled with the tab on his can. “Do you think he’s mad at me?”
The vulnerability in his voice caused a fresh wave of guilt. She could no longer deny the truth. She’d broken protocol and become overly invested in her patient and his father. Had her unprofessionalism sent them backward in their recovery?
She sighed. “Zach, your dad’s not mad at you. He’s mad at me. We had a...disagreement after the play.”
Zach eyed her with open curiosity. “What about?”
She shrugged, pushing away the memory of Nathan’s ravaged eyes. “Grown-up stuff. Nothing for you to worry about.” She reached into the cooler and pulled out a container of grapes.
“Can I ask you something?” Zach swung his legs, his sneaker thumping against the wooden leg of the dock.
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you questions, remember?”
He scrunched up his nose. “If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?”
Paige thought for a minute while she chewed. “I guess that’s fair, but I get to go first.” Maybe she could distract him so he’d forget what he wanted to ask. “Have you forgiven your dad for not letting you and your mom come back home?” She handed him the fruit.
“I think so. You helped me understand why he couldn’t do it.” He popped a grape into his mouth.
“I’m glad. Being able to forgive is a big thing.”
He shrugged. “My turn for a question.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
He squinted at her. “Do you like my dad?”
She hesitated, sensing an underlying meaning to the question. “Of course, I do. Your dad’s a nice man.”
“I mean, as a boyfriend?”
A trickle of perspiration slid down her spine as she fought to keep her expression neutral. How did she answer that without blatantly lying? “I’m not looking for a boyfriend, honey,” she said gently, forcing her thoughts away from the memory of Nathan’s lips on hers. “Let’s get back to you.”
Zach frowned, clearly unhappy with her response.
She paused, hoping her next question wouldn’t be too difficult. Instinctively she softened her voice. “Would you like to tell me a bit about your mom now?”
At first he shook his head, his face partly hidden by the brim of his red ball cap. Then he looked up at her with sad eyes. “Could I?”
“Sure.”
“My dad doesn’t like to talk about her.”
“Talking about someone who died is sometimes too painful. But I think it helps us remember them in a good way.”
He nodded, picking at a knot in the wood. “My mom was real pretty. Kinda skinny with long brown hair and blue eyes. She used to be sad sometimes. But other times she’d play with me and laugh a lot. She had a nice laugh.”
“She sounds like a good mom. What was your favorite thing to do together?”
He smiled, but his eyes remained sad. “We went bike riding a lot. Dad was always busy at work, so it was just me and Mom. Sometimes she let my friend come with us.”
They sat in silence for a while, with nothing but the soft lap of water against the dock, until Zach broke the stillness. “Paige, why do you think God made my mom get sick?”
The question was one she’d asked a million times when Colin died. Now, after all her reflections on the subject, the words sat right there waiting to be said. “God didn’t make her get sick, honey. Bad things just happen sometimes. God is there to help us get through them.”
“Did He help you when your boyfriend died?”
“Yes, He did. I still miss Colin, but now I can enjoy remembering the happy times. That will happen for you, too, eventually.”
Zach crinkled his nose. “Don’t you ever want another boyfriend?”
A wave of sadness pinched her heart. “I don’t know. But right now, I’m just not ready.”
He stared at her with wise eyes and nodded. “Maybe someday I’ll be ready for a new mom, too.”
* * *
Nathan paced Dan Redding’s office, waiting for him to finish a call. The cozy office with bookcases along one wall and a large sunny window on the other did little to improve his mood. He paused to read some framed inspirational quotes on the wall—anything to keep from thinking about the sting of Paige’s rejection.
“Sorry about that,” Dan apologized as he hung up.
“No problem.” Nathan reclaimed his seat.
“You were telling me about the guilt you felt whenever you were called away from your family.”
Nathan nodded and steepled his fingers together, trying to focus back on the previous conversation. “Yes. Cynthia always made me feel terrible for leaving, no matter how valid the reason. And after a fight with her, I never felt I was giving one hundred percent to the person I was supposed to be helping.”
“That must have made your job very difficult.”
“It did. Things got even worse when Cynthia stopped coming to church altogether.”
Dan shook his head. “I can’t imagine it.”
Nathan rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I felt like such a failure, like the world’s biggest hypocrite. I couldn’t function as a pastor. Couldn’t preach love and forgiveness when I was filled with rage.”
Dan let the words sit for a moment. “I’m sure if you had explained the situation, your parishioners would have understood. You’re not the first minister to have his marriage fail.”
“Maybe.” Nathan sighed. He’d been too mired in bitterness and shame to think along those lines. Too mortified by the fact that his wife had betrayed him and moved in with another man.
“How did they respond when Cynthia died?”
He shrugged. “They were wonderful, of course. Came to the funeral. Brought a ton of food, most of which is still in my freezer.”
“They wanted to show their love and support.”
Nathan shook his head. “But I didn’t deserve it. I was responsible for Cynthia’s death. When I wouldn’t take her back, we had a huge fight. The stress caused her aneurysm.”
Dan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Nathan, that simply is not true.” He held up a hand to ward off the argument that sprang to Nathan’s lips. “A good friend of mine died the same way. Dropped dead in his garage, fixing his truck. The doctor told his wife it could’ve happened anytime, anywhere. The circumstances had nothing whatsoever to do with it.”
A glimmer of hope sparked in Nathan. “A doctor said this?”
“Yes. Apparently his wife felt terrible because she’d yelled at him right before he went out to the garage. She got three different doctors to tell her the same thing before she finally let go of the guilt.”
Untold emotions raced through Nathan’s system. Did he dare believe what Dan was telling him?
“You have a lot to reflect on and pray about,” Dan said. “Why don’t we meet again tomorrow or the next day? In the meantime, I want you to think about the possibility of going back to New York to get some closure. Maybe that will help you decide whether you can return to your ministry there, or if you should make a clean break and start over in a new parish.” He paused. “You need to consider that God could be leading you in a new direction.”
Somewhat stunned, Nathan nodded and rose to shake Dan’s hand.
After he left, Nathan drove for thirty minutes without realizing where he was headed. His mind swirled with thoughts and emotions, and driving helped him think.
Dan’s words had given him a faint glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t caused Cynthia’s aneurysm after all. Maybe he could finally let go of his guilt.
He planned on talking to a few doctors himself to get a consensus of opinion—something he should have done long ago instead of taking the words of one person to heart. Though back then he hadn’t been ready to hear the truth, no matter who told him.
His thoughts turned to his career as he steered the car back toward Wyndermere. Dan was right about needing closure. No matter what he decided about his future, he would have to go back, even if only to say goodbye. He sighed. The knot in his stomach told him he needed more time to work up the courage for that.
As the car slid down the highway, he couldn’t help but think of Paige, the woman he’d come to feel so strongly about. Without her, he wouldn’t have made such progress toward healing. Somehow she’d known Dan could help him. And her work with Zach was yielding slow but steady results. He had so many reasons to be grateful to her...yet the hurt he felt at her rejection overshadowed everything else. Had she allowed him to explain, he would have told her that he was uncertain, too—that he shared her doubts and fears about falling in love again, but that he wanted the chance to see where the powerful attraction between them could lead. But she had not been willing to even hear him out. And now even the friendship they’d been building seemed to have disappeared.
His fingers tightened on the wheel as he drove down the winding road leading to the inn. She’d been avoiding him ever since the confrontation in her office, and he had to admit, he’d been avoiding her, too. Because every time he saw her, he wanted to kiss her again.
Pulling into the designated parking area, he turned off the engine and got out of the car. His shoulders bowed with the weight of his remorse. He owed her a huge apology for forcing the issue.
Looking at his watch, he made up his mind. At this time of day, she usually worked in her office. Maybe if he apologized, they could get back to at least being friends.
For Zach’s sake, he had to try.
* * *
The phone in her office rang as Paige filed the last piece of paper. At the sound of her brother’s voice, a smile bloomed.
“Hey, Matt. I was going to call Mom and Dad later today. I can’t wait to see you guys this weekend.” She’d been looking forward to her brother’s birthday party all week, hoping that a visit with her family would restore her good spirits.
Her smile faded at the silence on the other end.
“I’m sorry, Paige. I’m phoning with bad news.”
Icy fingers of fear wound their way up her spine. The receiver weighed like lead in her hand. “What’s wrong, Matti?”
“It’s Dad.” A long pause followed, giving Paige time to imagine all kinds of horrible possibilities.
“He’s had a heart attack.”
“No,” Paige gasped. It wasn’t possible. Her father worked out at the gym on a regular basis and was in great shape for his age. “How...how bad is it?”
“We don’t know yet. The doctors are with him now.”
Paige became aware of hospital noises in the background.
“He may need surgery, if he’s strong enough.” Matt’s voice cracked. “You’d better come home, Paige.”
Shock reverberated through her body, as her mind struggled to grasp the fact that her father may be dying. “I’ll leave right away. Tell Daddy I’m coming.”
She hung up the phone with shaking hands and closed her eyes.
Please, God, don’t let my father die. I couldn’t bear it. Not again.
* * *
As Nathan approached Paige’s office, he steeled himself for his apology. He knocked once and waited. When there was no response, he pushed the door open and peered inside.
“Paige?”
She sat with her head in her hands, her eyes closed.
Alarm seeped through him. “Is everything all right?” He pushed farther into the room.
Slowly she lifted her head, a startled expression on her face. “Nathan. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you, but if this is a bad time—”
Her gaze bounced around the room. “Actually it is. I have to leave.” She shuffled some items on her desk, eyes unfocused.
Nathan frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” Her voice cracked with emotion.
Then he noticed her ashen skin, her shaking hands. Anxiety filled him as he approached her. “What’s the matter?”
She bit down on her quivering lip. “My father had a heart attack.”
The suddenness of her statement hit him like a splash of cold lake water. “I’m so sorry. Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I have to get home.” She flipped open her laptop and started tapping away at the keys.
Nathan stuffed his hands into his pockets, helpless concern roaring through him as she madly clicked the mouse. He wished he could offer her some form of comfort, like a hug, but that was impossible right now. “What are you looking for?”
“The number for the bus station.”
He reached out to capture her cold, trembling hands in his. “You don’t need that. I’ll take you.”
Her eyes flew up to his. “I can’t let you do that. It’s a nine-hour drive.”
“And a lot longer by bus.”
She tried to pull her hands away, but he held them fast.
“I’ll rent a car then.” Desperation laced her words.
He would never let her set off by herself in this state of shock. “You’re too upset to drive.” He kept his tone soothing, hoping to calm her agitation. “Please let me do this. I have the car and the time. Maybe it will help make up for my bad behavior the other day.”
She hesitated, a storm of turmoil evident in her eyes. “What about Zach? He’ll feel abandoned if we both leave.”
“I’ll give him the option of coming with us.”
She sagged then, as though the energy had drained out of her. Nathan fought the overwhelming urge to pull her close, to protect her from everything bad in the world.
Instead he gave her hand a final squeeze. “We’re wasting time. Go get your things and meet me at the car.”
Chapter Fourteen
The scenery flew past the car window in a blur. Paige stared without focusing and lifted silent prayers for her dad, while trying to comprehend how this had all come about. How she’d ended up in Nathan’s car on her way to see her father, who could be slipping away as they drove. The whole situation was beyond surreal.
She laid her head back and closed her eyes. On top of being worried sick, her senses screamed at being confined in this cramped space with Nathan mere inches away—so strong and solid that all she wanted to do was rest her head on his shoulder, let him hold her and tell her everything would be all right.
The ball of fear in the pit of her stomach reminded her why that wasn’t possible.
She was thankful for Zach’s presence in the backseat, just in case temptation overtook good sense.
Three hours into the trip, Nathan stopped to refuel and pick up some burgers and sodas. Paige didn’t think she could eat a thing, but Nathan persuaded her to take a few bites. Zach happily finished the rest.
“I’m sorry your dad’s sick,” Zach told her after he’d finished eating. “Are you scared?”
She nodded, blinking to hold back the tears that threatened. “Very scared.”
Zach reached between the seats to take her hand in his sticky one, almost undoing her carefully held control.
“Remember what you told me? That God always helps us get through the bad things? God will help you, too, Paige.”
“Thank you, Zach.” Her voice was a whisper as she blinked again, overcome by the compassion in this wonderful boy. Whatever mistakes Cynthia had made in her life, she’d succeeded in raising one terrific son.
As the trip progressed, Paige tried
to sleep, but couldn’t get comfortable against the headrest. In the dark of the night, the only thing visible outside the window was the glare of the oncoming headlights. Restless, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed her mother’s number. The call went straight to voice mail. Paige left a brief message telling her she was halfway there, and then tried her brother’s cell. When she got no answer, she tossed the phone back into her bag and crossed her arms with a sigh. Why weren’t they answering? Had her dad’s condition deteriorated? She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the terrifying thoughts away.
Some time later, a change in the speed of the car had Paige sitting upright and rubbing her eyes. She must have dozed off at last. She blinked to focus. Nathan had pulled into a truck stop.
“Sorry,” he said. “Need a coffee.”
Remorse set in when she noticed the fatigue around his eyes. “Do you want me to drive for a while?”
He unhooked his seat belt. “I’ll be fine after a jolt of caffeine.”
He got out of the car before she could respond, then poked his head back in. “You want anything?”
“No, thanks.” Caffeine was the last thing she needed.
While he was gone, she took the opportunity to undo her belt and stretch. She twisted around to look at Zach, who slept soundly in his booster seat, his head lolling against the side window. For a moment she envied his childlike ability to sleep no matter what. The fact that he was willing to give up a few days of camp life to come with them also touched her. Part of his motive was concern for her, she knew, but part of it was fear of being left behind by his father. At least Nathan acknowledged this fear and gave Zach’s feelings the respect they deserved—evidence of the changes he’d made to help his son.
She turned back to see Nathan arriving with his coffee.
He got in and handed her a bottle of water. “How are you holding up?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
He started the engine, and then paused with his hand on the gearshift. “I’m praying for your father.”
Knowing how Nathan had been struggling with his prayer life, that simple statement warmed her heart. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Healing the Widower's Heart Page 14