Detour: Destination Abiding Love

by JoAnn Carter

  “Sure.” As she made her way up to the cashier, she glanced from the floor to the photographs lining the walls. “The Village Bistro has changed a bit, but it still has the same homey feel and beautiful rustic colors.”

  “Spoken like the artist you are.”

  She grinned. “Guess you can tell by my clothing that I appreciate lots of styles.”

  “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I noticed the top you were wearing earlier today in church.”

  “I thought about wearing something more traditional, but,” She scrunched her pert little nose. ”It’s just not me.” She read the specials on board. “I used to love their chicken Panini. Do they still sell them?”

  “You mean the one covered in mushrooms and onions where the Vermont cheddar cheese oozes out over the sides?”

  Sierra licked her lips. “That’s the one.”

  His stomach growled, and grinning, he placed his hand against his abdomen. “You bet, and I believe my stomach is telling me it’s the perfect thing to have.”

  She laughed. “There will be no argument from me.”

  As he waited for the person in front of him to finish her order, he peeked into the glass display case. “Can I tempt you with a goodie, too?”

  “Hmm...that napoleon does look delicious.”

  He nodded, thankful there was at least one female not afraid of food. “Great. It’s settled, then.”

  The customer before them moved off to the side counter to pick up some napkins.

  The cashier called out, “Hi, Cole. What can I get you?”

  He winked at Sierra. “We’d like a double order of the chicken Panini along with two napoleons.”

  She scribbled the order on her pad. “Anything to drink?”

  Sierra stepped forward. As her shoulder brushed up against his arm, he caught a soft whiff of the clean fragrance she wore. What was it about Sierra that made him so aware of her presence? Since church, he couldn’t get her, or what she had said, off his mind.

  “Just water for me, please.”

  “Make that two.”

  The cashier stepped to the register. “Sure thing.”

  As she totaled their bill, Cole leaned toward Sierra. “I’ve got this covered. Why don’t you keep our table from being taken?”

  Sierra placed her hand on her purse. “It’s OK. I can pay for my half.”

  “No, please, let me. I’m the one who asked you to come. The least I can do is pay for your lunch.”

  Her clear brown eyes bored into his as if she were seeking something. Exactly what, he had no idea, but she must have found whatever she was looking for because she gave a quick nod. “OK, but if there’s a next time, the treat’s on me. It’s not like this is a date or anything.”

  He wouldn’t have minded if it were, yet she seemed to be making it clear that she wasn’t interested. “I can handle that, and if it’s up to me, I can tell you right now I’d like there to be a next time.”

  

  Sierra scooted away from Cole as quickly as possible without being too obvious. She was beginning to wonder if he had heard what she said in church. One thing was sure; his parents had. They wanted him to stay away from her. Yet, here was Cole, insinuating he’d like to get together again. It was...well, more than a little awkward. Granted, she was thrilled for his overtures of friendship, but the question that began to eat at the lining of her stomach was, would the town folk accept her if they thought she was trying to corrupt someone’s son? Besides that, she didn’t want to cause any further animosity between Cole’s family members. God had given her a task—seek reconciliation. Now if only He had given detailed instructions. Lord, I’m trying. I really am. She took a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves. Between the morning’s events, and this lunch date, she was sure it was only a matter of time before a migraine hit.

  Her fingers itched for her violin bow. Perhaps then, as the music flowed, she could process everything and figure out what was going on. Or at least gain some perspective through prayer.

  “Here we are.” Cole set a large, red plastic cup of water in front of her. “Sue will bring our food out when it’s ready.”

  “Thank you.” She looked up from beneath her lashes as she felt, more than saw, him occupy the seat next to her. “It was kind of you to buy my lunch.” She took the white linen napkin off the table and tucked it onto her lap.

  He grinned and an alluring dimple appeared on his cheek. “To be honest, I do have a motive.”

  “Oh?” Her voice cracked. What motive? He couldn’t be romantically interested in me, could he?

  Cole broke the paper off his straw and tapped it on the table until the straw was free. He slipped it into the ice water. “As I mentioned in church, your testimony left me with some questions.”

  Her lungs filled with sweet oxygen once again. Questions about her faith were something she’d feel comfortable talking to him about. The other subject, well, she wouldn’t even go there. “Sure, shoot. I’ll answer whatever question you have, if I can.”

  Cole clasped his large fingers around the cup. His hands were so big she just stared at them for a moment. It looked as if he could handle anything, but she knew all too well strength was just an illusion. Her dad had been strong at one time. She was his little girl, but so much had changed. Clearly, even the strongest of men could buckle under the right circumstances. Only one didn’t—Jesus. He was the only person who was one hundred percent human and one hundred percent God.

  Cole chuckled. “They used to call me the Bear.”

  “Huh?”

  He lifted his hands. “The guys on my high school team started the nickname.”

  “You were a good football player, I’ll give you that.”

  His eyebrow quirked up. “You saw me play?”

  “Don’t sound so astonished. Granted, you were a senior when I was in eighth grade, but I had some friends who went to Daviston. We’d go watch your games.”

  “All of them?”

  Her face grew warm, and she itched to be less than honest. Heaven forbid he think she was flirting with him. She refolded her napkin. “Every home game.”

  He let his back thump against the chair. “Huh, what do you know about that.” He rubbed his chin. “When you were speaking this morning, I vaguely recognized you, but I don’t think we ever met formally.” He tilted his head to the side. “If we had, I think I would have remembered.”

  She took a sip of her water to moisten her suddenly parched throat. This conversation wasn’t going the way she had hoped. She wanted to talk about the present but apparently, he wanted to talk about the past. There wasn’t much more she hated than talking about herself or her dysfunctional family. She had already done that once today, and only because she knew with certainty that was what God wanted her to do. But this one-on-one business felt different.

  She clenched her jaw. “No, we hadn’t been formally introduced. Even if we had, there’s nothing special about me that you would have remembered. Especially when I was an awkward, skinny teen.” She shivered just thinking about those years. She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the past. “You mentioned you have some questions you wanted to ask me about my testimony?”

  He folded his arms across the broad expanse of his chest. Thankfully, he let the topic of her teen years drop. “I do. I saw your sincerity this morning when you spoke.” He leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table. “Even with all that you went through, you seemed so...anchored.”

  She felt like she had just been walloped by a two-by-four. “I seem anchored?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Me?” She pointed to her chest. “For most of my life I’ve floundered around, barely keeping my head above the rough water.”

  “But it’s different now. You’re different. I could tell by the way you spoke in Church.” Cole pushed his straw up and down through the ice in his cup, but his steady gaze never left hers. “You knew you needed to come back to Daviston, right?”

  She gave a nod. “I’m like
that little guy—Zacchaeus. I want to give back what I’ve taken.”

  He scooted his chair closer to the table. “It’s more than that, though. You have a sense of purpose that seems to go beyond even that.”

  Sierra finally understood and sent up a quick prayer of thanks. “Cole, it’s not me who’s anchored. It’s who’s holding me, Christ. And you’re right; I do have a sense of purpose.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I just hope the people in this town will come around to see what Jesus has done in my life and that He offers that same gift to anyone who will accept it. I want…” She looked around the room as if it could give her some sort of inspiration. “I want God to use me to be His hands and feet. But honestly, it’s not coming easy. Not only do I have my past as baggage, but I’m kind of insecure and shy around people.”

  Sue approached their table and set down the plates with a pile of napkins. “Can I get you folks anything else?”

  “We’re all set. Thanks,” Cole said. As the waitress walked away, he turned back to Sierra. “That’s the anchor I’m talking about. You know where you’ve been, what you want to do now and where you’re headed once you leave Daviston.”

  The delicious aroma tickled her nose, but even more delicious was the thought that he was right. She gave him a wide smile. “It’s a God thing.”

  Cole seemed to have totally forgotten about eating. He pushed his plate aside. After resting his head in his hands for a moment, he looked up, his clear blue gaze unwavering. “I’ve been a Christian for as long as I can remember. But the passion I saw in your eyes this morning as you spoke, and as you speak now…it’s made me realize that somewhere over the years my own love for the Lord has faded. I want it back. I want what you have.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yup.”

  Her heart rate picked up. Wow, thank You, Lord. “I didn’t go into all the details at church, but I was at the lowest of lows when I finally surrendered my life and heart to Christ. Because of how He’s picked me up, I know with all that is in me, He is trustworthy and true. He has given me a new lease on life, and I am passionate about Him.” She could see the struggle on his face.

  “I wonder why my love for Him has waned,” he softly questioned.

  Lord, please give me Your words. “I think that’s something only you and the Lord would know.”

  He sighed as if disappointed in that answer. He pulled his plate back in front of him. “Shall we say a blessing?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  He bowed his head. “Thanks, God, for this food and for the fellowship. Amen.”

  “Amen.” She picked up the ketchup bottle and made a scarlet mound on her plate. “I don’t know if this would help or not, but I’ve noticed many people do good things to earn God’s favor. But that’s not what I’m trying to do. I serve Him because I want to”—she searched for the right words—”to please Him.”

  “And that’s the beauty that I see in you.”

  Hearing him say that scared her even more than standing before the congregation. “Uh, Cole. Don’t put me up on any pedestal. I don’t even deserve a step-stool.”

  2

  Once upon a time Cole’s family would have frowned upon working on a Sunday, or even eating out. That is unless one had a job in a hospital, fire department, or some other crucial service. His father had thrown a fit when Cole chose to leave the store open on Sundays.

  Since his father had decided to run for governor, things changed. What was once “normal” for his family seemed to vanish with convenience.

  Cole sighed as he closed the door to his parents’ home. He was so tired of living up to the status quo and doing what was expected: nothing more—nothing less. Talking with Sierra made him think that perhaps he didn’t need to live life that way. He wished he could have stayed at the restaurant with her, rather than play the part of the dutiful son here at home...but a promise was a promise.

  “Colton, is that you?”

  “Yup. I’m coming, Mom.”

  She hurried through the living room door. “Finally. I was beginning to think that...that...girl kidnapped you.”

  He shrugged out of his jacket. “Nah. Though I wouldn’t mind if she had. She’s refreshing.”

  His mother’s jaw dropped like a door hinge. She quickly snapped it shut. “Colton, be sensible. You need to consider what people will think and what they will say, especially now that your father is running in this race. People are watching us.”

  With the mandate she had tried to impose on him this morning still fresh in his mind, he bit his tongue to keep from saying something he would regret. “Mom, we didn’t do anything wrong. We simply met for lunch and talked.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Well, I certainly hope you don’t plan to meet with her again. Our community might get the wrong impression.” She shuddered. “To think of the disgrace that family represents.” His mother tapped her foot. “There is no way we can afford to have our name linked to hers in any way.”

  A strong urge ran through Cole. He wanted—no needed—to protect Sierra’s reputation, and her goal in returning to Daviston. “Sierra was right to come back. What she wants to do is good.” His mom started to respond, but he went on. “Besides, we’ll never be able to please everyone. If people are looking to find something to judge or criticize about our family, they’ll find it, no matter what.”

  “That’s all the more reason not to throw this whole Sinclair thing their way. It’s like waving a bone in front of a dog’s face. He’s bound to grab for it. Son, you need to think about the ramifications your actions can have for our whole family.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sierra admitted this morning in church that she and her father have made mistakes. She asked for our forgiveness.”

  “To forgive is one thing. To forget is not only impossible, but foolish.”

  Cole knew there would be no changing his mother’s mind. Yet, one way or another, that was exactly what he intended to do. He tugged his jacket back on. “I know I told Dad I would help him today. Tell him to make me a list and call me at home or I’ll catch him later this week.”

  “Colton!”

  He opened the door, and then turned back. “There’s nothing shameful about Sierra coming back.” A sudden thought popped into his mind. “What if Christ forgave us with the forgiveness you’re telling me I should offer to her?” As he closed the door, he heard her call out.

  “She’s bewitched you! Stay away from her.”

  

  Sierra stepped out of the little rental car and heard someone call her name. She glanced over towards the main house. Melissa stood there in the doorway waving. “I just put on a pot of coffee. Want to join me?”

  Sierra was still full from lunch, but she jumped at the offer of friendship. “I’d love to.”

  “Great! Meet me in the kitchen.”

  Melissa left the door open and Sierra followed her into a soft yellow country kitchen lined with cabinets and a colorful teacup border paper. Melissa worked over the granite countertop pulling down mugs and napkins from the walnut cabinet above.

  “Your kitchen feels so cozy.”

  “Well you know Vermont, we have so many gray and cloudy days I need something to keep me cheery.”

  Sierra rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. “I hear you. I can’t believe it’s May. I’m so cold.”

  Melissa laughed. “Remember what they say? If you don’t like the weather, stay around five minutes and it’s liable to change.” She set a cup of steaming coffee in front of Sierra. “Here, this will warm you up.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, how do you think things went this morning?”

  “OK, I guess. Talking to the entire congregation is definitely out of my comfort zone. I’m just glad it’s done.”

  “It’s good to get out of our comfort zones every once in a while. Besides, I know I’m only one person, but I think you did great.”

  “I just hope the congregation...” S
ierra let the thought go. There was no sense in worrying about what they thought. Instead, it was time to focus on the present and the amazing woman sitting here with her. She sent Melissa a quick smile and took a tentative sip of coffee. “Thanks for offering me a place to stay. It means more to me than you could ever know. Especially after, well, after what your Aunt went through those last weeks of her life in hospice...when my dad...” Sierra choked back a sob as guilt pressed down on her chest.

  Melissa gently reached across the table and took Sierra’s hand. “Your father’s actions aren’t your fault, you know.”

  Here was one person who had every right to hold a grudge, yet Melissa was trying to comfort her. Tears welled in her eyes. “But...”

  “No.” Melissa shook her head. “Don’t. What’s in the past stays in the past. Leave it there.” She squeezed Sierra’s hand. “We all need to move on,” she said softly.

  Sierra nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Just please know that I’m so sorry for everything and I’ll do anything...”

  “I have forgiven your father already. It’s time to let it go.” After one more squeeze, Melissa pulled her hand away, sat up straight in her chair, and took a deep breath. “So, do you have a plan on how to go about accomplishing your mission in our little town?”

  “Not really.” Sierra chuckled, feeling a bit self-conscious. “I figured God will give me one when the time is right.”

  “Hmm.” Melissa sat back and grinned. “Last night I woke up in the middle of the night with an idea. I’d love to run it by you if you don’t mind.”