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Detour: Destination Abiding Love

Page 9

by JoAnn Carter


  Cole wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “If I didn’t know how much you would regret not pursuing this opportunity, I would do everything within my power to have you stay at Daviston.”

  She looked deep into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and something nameless within their depts. “I don’t know what to say other than…thank you.”

  

  Cole stepped into his apartment above the store just as his phone started to ring. He picked it up. “Hello.”

  “Cole, where have you been?” Clara asked. “I’ve been worried sick. You weren’t answering your cell. I’ve been trying for hours.”

  Cole sat in his worn leather wingback chair and rested his head against the back. “Sorry about that. I’m fine. I just had my phone turned off for a while.”

  “Why?”

  “I was having some time with the Lord.”

  A heavy silence descended over the line. “Oh...I didn’t know you had gotten so religious.”

  He cleared his throat. He had been going to church for how many years and just now someone alluded to his faith? How pathetic was that? Even sadder was the fact that he knew she had planned to sing in church, yet he now wondered whether she was going for worship, or as a social obligation. He knew how that felt, since he had lived that way for years. “Did you need something?” He cringed as he asked.

  The car ride back home had been amazing. He started out feeling depressed and lonely, but the more he poured his heart out to the Lord, the more peace he felt. He didn’t know how things would turn out with Sierra, but he resolved, with the help of the Holy Spirit, not to get caught up in the merry-go-round and neglect his relationship with the Lord. Sierra had reminded him of the joy he could have in God, and he didn’t want to forget that important lesson. Yet here he was, just seconds home, and the pressure to “do” started already.

  “I want to go out to dinner with you and talk over some of the plans I’ve been thinking about for your father’s campaign.”

  He appreciated the help she had been giving his dad, but he didn’t want her to think they could be more than friends. There would never be a future for them as a couple. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea—”

  “Your mother told me, you know.” She didn’t finish the thought right away.

  He was in no mood for games so he stayed quiet.

  “If you have time to take Sierra to New York, you have time to take me to dinner for an hour or two, wouldn’t you agree? Besides, I want to know what’s going on between the two of you, anyway.”

  Not nearly enough.

  “Clara, this isn’t about Sierra. It’s about you and me. I’m not the same person I was years ago when we were dating. We both live different lives now and frankly, I’m not interested in revisiting the past.”

  “What are you saying?” Her voice grew husky.

  He rolled his eyes, ready for the call to end. “I’m saying that I appreciate the help you’re giving to Dad, but I’m not looking—”

  “Who said I was?” She scoffed. “Really, Cole, I only said we should go to dinner, not get married.”

  He blew out a breath. Why did he get the feeling it was more than just a simple dinner, which she was trying to lead him to believe? Perhaps talking to her face to face would finally make her understand. “Fine. Meet me on Friday at the Bistro.”

  

  Cole missed Sierra. He picked up his phone to call her, but then set it back down. Lord, bless her time there and if it’s Your will, please bring her back. He glanced at the clock and sighed. Time to get to work. He picked up his keys, and descended the steps into the store.

  Mrs. Whitten was at the counter talking to Sam. “There you are.”

  “Good morning. Were you waiting for me?”

  “I was. Could we perhaps talk in your office?”

  His gut clenched. Something was off. “Sure, come on back.” He led the way to the small room tucked in the back corner. He held the door open for her. “Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine.” She took a seat. “But I’m afraid something will need to be done about Clara.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Clara?”

  Mrs. Whitten folded her hands across her chest. “Why do you look so surprised? She’s never, no pun intended, liked to play second fiddle.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Mrs. Whitten scooted to the edge of her seat. “Melissa heard her talking nasty about Sierra to some church members. I was there. It got...well, ugly. I’m concerned about the ramifications.”

  “Why would she put Sierra down? Sierra never did anything to her.”

  “Never underestimate the power of a woman who feels she’s been scorned.”

  “But...” Cole brushed the questions aside. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Clara is bent on undoing all the good that Sierra has done. She’s putting a twist on things; just enough to make people think Sierra had an ulterior motive. Melissa heard what she was saying and stood up for Sierra. It would have been fine if she stopped there.” She splayed her hands out, at a loss for words.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Melissa in her urge to defend Sierra happened to mention you.”

  His head snapped up.

  “And something along the lines that even though Sierra is no longer in town, that doesn’t mean she isn’t seeing you...that she is staying in contact via computer chat and phone texts, so Clara should back off.”

  Cole’s heart sped up. The idea of seeing Sierra again, even over the computer, was something he needed to tuck away to contemplate later. Right now, he had her honor to defend. “I don’t like that Clara’s spreading lies about Sierra. I’ll take care of it.”

  Mrs. Whitten stood. “Just be careful. I smell something very ugly. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

  “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Not really. Just call it a funny feeling. The venom coming from Clara’s gaze when she spoke to Melissa gives me the willies. Who knows what she is capable of?” Mrs. Whitten wasn’t a worrier, and the fact she sought him out said more than words.

  He needed to confront Clara as soon as possible.

  

  Cole had assumed that he had until the end of his work day to talk to Clara.

  He was not expecting his father to stop at the store. His father’s normally combed hair was mussed, like he had been jamming his hands through it. “Cole, got a minute?”

  “Sure, let’s go upstairs. Can I get you a drink?”

  His dad shook his head and walked towards the stairs.

  As they settled in Cole’s living room, his dad sucked in a deep breath. “I haven’t said much about Sierra or Clara because I have enough on my mind without getting caught in the middle of your personal life. However, it’s no longer a personal matter when some people from the community and our church begin to threaten Pastor Bill’s job.”

  Cole felt hot and cold at the same time. “What!”

  “They are saying Melissa set you up and encouraged a romantic relationship with Sierra—that she even asked you to drive Sierra to New York when she knew you’re already seeing Clara. Is it true?”

  Cole’s blood ran cold. “No one asked me to take Sierra. That was my idea, and I’m not dating anyone, let alone two-timing. Why would you think I was seeing Clara, anyway? I made it clear to both Clara and Mom that I was not interested in reestablishing anything more than a friendship.”

  His father rubbed his chin. “I thought it was strange that you haven’t been around much. So what is going on?”

  Cole stood and headed back toward the door. “I don’t know, but for the second time today, I intend to find out.”

  

  By evening, Cole was still livid about the lies that had been spread around town. Talking to Clara frustrated him more, and left him disappointed in people he cared about. What was wrong with this town? He could only pray the hurtful rumors wouldn’t reach Sier
ra’s ears. No more second-guessing if she’d want to hear from him or not. He needed to call her and hear her voice to know that she was OK.

  He dialed her cell and waited.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Sierra. It’s me, Cole.”

  “I could tell by your voice.” She sounded both happy and surprised. “What ya up to?”

  “Just calling to see how you’re doing.”

  “That’s sweet. I’m doing well, but it’s harder than I thought. It’s not that I don’t love it, but I’m not getting much sleep and unfortunately, I’m a gal who needs more than most folks. Give me a good eight to ten hours and I’m full steam ahead.”

  Cole propped his feet on the table and pictured her as if she were there talking to him face to face. If only. “So how many hours have you been getting?”

  “Four to six if I’m lucky.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yup.” Sierra quickly agreed. “Enough about me. How are you and what’s happening in town?”

  He knew she would probably ask this question, but he still didn’t know how to answer. He went for honesty in a roundabout way. “I’m missing you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  Cole felt a little bit better. She cared for him, even if only as a friend. Maybe if she returned soon, he’d be able to show her how much he cared for her. “Any word from the other musician?”

  “Not yet. How is Mrs. Whitten?”

  “She’s doing fine. In fact, I saw her this morning.”

  “Tell her I said hi when you see her again.”

  “I can do that.” Cole assured her. “How’s your new roommate?”

  Sierra chuckled. “Loud. She plays the trombone.”

  Cole laughed. “Oh, the life of a professional musician.”

  “Speaking of which, I need to get a move on it. I need to be to the center in a half hour. But Cole...” the line went so quiet he began to wonder if he lost the connection. “It’s great to hear your voice. Thanks for calling.”

  “You know, the cell coverage goes both ways. Feel free to call me anytime.”

  Laughter filled her voice. “You can count on it!”

  

  Things moved much faster than Sierra had anticipated. By the following Friday, Eileen was back from her emergency leave and Sierra was free to return to Daviston or accept the director’s offer for her to stay. She enjoyed her job, but she missed Cole. If only she could pretend for a while that she was Cinderella going to the ball. She’d meet her prince and the future wouldn’t be so unclear. She laughed at her fanciful daydream.

  Daviston wasn’t a royal ball, but returning to Cole did sound like an opportunity not to be missed. If God somehow chose to show her that pursuing a relationship with Cole was right, she wouldn’t let her fear and insecurity stop her any longer. Life was too short and uncertain for that. Besides, the summer wasn’t finished, and she had promised Mrs. Whitten she’d come back and help if she could.

  With that in mind, she informed the director that she would be back in August as they originally planned.

  9

  Sierra stepped down from her coach—well, coach bus, to be exact. She smirked at the silly analogy and hiked her purse farther up her shoulder. The driver fished her case from the luggage compartment and set it on the ground. She smiled at him and reached for the handle. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Have a nice day,” he mumbled as he stepped back onto the bus.

  She took a deep breath and looked around. No castle was up ahead, but there was a white spire she could make out in the distance. And where the church was, the store stood a few hundred feet away. Her pulse hammered in her ears. What would Cole’s reaction be when he saw her?

  “Sierra?” An incredulous voice called.

  Melissa was hanging half out the window of her car. Her eyes grew wide and she jumped out of the car and wrapped Sierra in a bear hug. “It is you.” She dropped her arms. “What are you doing here?”

  Sierra grinned and waved at Pastor Bill, who was looking a bit stunned in the driver’s seat. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her arrival or how fast his wife moved. She had the feeling it might be the second. “I’ve come back for a while.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Another vehicle was coming down the road, so Pastor Bill moved his car through the intersection and pulled off onto the shoulder. When the vehicle passed, he got out and walked toward her. “Welcome back.” He wrapped her in a hug every bit as tight as Melissa’s.

  “Thanks!”

  “Need a lift?”

  “You’re like my own fairy godparents. Just when I need you, you show up.”

  “Who needs fairy godparents when the God of the universe knows the very hairs on your head?” Melissa laughed.

  “Guess you got a point there.” Sierra was a bit sheepish. “I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t consider that you might have loaned your apartment out to someone else. Would it still happen to be available? I’d love to stay there for a month.”

  Pastor Bill reached for her case. “It’s been waiting for your return.”

  Melissa wrapped her arm around Sierra’s, and they walked toward the car. So far, so good. Thank You, God for these friends and the warm welcome.

  

  Back at her apartment, Sierra quickly unloaded her case and put on the tea kettle.

  Melissa had brought over a few food items to hold her until she went to the store later. While she waited for the water to heat, she had two phone calls she wanted to make, to Cole and Mrs. Whitten. Mrs. Whitten’s would probably be quicker. She didn’t want to rush her conversation with Cole, so she decided to call her former employer. She dialed the number by heart.

  “Hello.”

  “Mrs. Whitten, it’s me, Sierra.” She pressed the phone against her shoulder so she had her hands free to open the teabag and pull the sugar and milk out.

  “Sierra! Where are you?”

  “I’m in Daviston.”

  The line was quiet for a moment. “Really? When did you get back?”

  “Just a few minutes ago.” The teakettle began to whistle so she turned off the burner and poured the steaming water into her cup. “How have you been, how’s the market going?”

  “I’m doing just fine…”

  Did Sierra imagine it or did Mrs. Whitten’s voice seem a bit strained?

  “Market’s doing well. The plants you nurtured are producing in abundance this year.”

  “I’m glad it’s working out well.” She put the kettle back on the stovetop and pulled out a chair at the table. “Do you need a hand? I’ll be around for four weeks or so.”

  Again, quiet. Something was a bit off. “Mrs. Whitten, are you OK?”

  “Yes, yes. Have you spoken to Colton yet?”

  Sierra’s stomach churned. “Ah, not yet, but soon.”

  “I think you should call him. No, better yet, why don’t you go see him at the store, and then we’ll talk later.”

  “Umm, sure. I guess I’ll catch up with you later, then.”

  “Sierra...”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m glad you’re home.”

  Home. What a lovely sound that one word made. Could Daviston eventually be that for her?

  A knock interrupted her musing. “Be right there.” She called out as she made her way across the room. Flinging the door back, the smile wilted off her face as Clara’s cherry red, long fake fingernails drummed up against the doorway.

  “It was you I saw. You have a lot of nerve coming back here, I’ll give you that.”

  Sierra’s breath caught in the back of her throat. Like a wave tearing down a sandcastle, the warm feeling of home rode out with the tide. “What do you want, Clara?”

  “Only what is mine...and you can’t have him.”

  “Cole?”

  Clara rolled her eyes. “Of course.” Her once sultry voice took on a much different, shrill sound. “At least you finally admit it.”
/>   Sierra wanted to slam the door and wipe the grin off the woman’s face. When she had first seen Cole with Clara, she had wondered if he might have feelings for her, but after speaking to him and living through that agonizing period of doubt, she knew it wasn’t true. From Clara’s nails to her voice, the woman lived in a world of make-believe. Sierra almost felt sorry for her. “Cole’s not a thing to be owned, but a person to be loved.”

  Clara lowered the lids of her eyes until they were just slits. “Don’t trifle with me. You have no idea what I can do to you...or anyone else I see fit to ruin in this town.”

  Unease snaked its way up Sierra’s spine. This was not the homecoming she had anticipated.

  

  Cole stocked the shelf and wondered for the thousandth time how things got muddled so quickly. The town, thanks to the worship team, Mrs. Whitten, Pastor Bill and Melissa, had finally begun to come around when Sierra left. Now, all of the popular opinion had gone south in a short time under Clara’s influence. He wondered how he had ever seen anything attractive about her.

  “Cole, do you have any more of those cinnamon buns you had last week?”

  Cole glanced up and smiled. “Pastor Bill, I was just thinking of you in a roundabout way.”

  “Funny, ‘cause I was just thinking of you, too.” He raised and lowered his eyebrows. “And those cinnamon buns.”

  Cole laughed. “I just so happen to have a new batch. Hang on a second and I’ll get you one.” Cole made his way to the front and pulled a pastry out of the glass case. He put it in a bag and set it on the counter. “On the house.”

  Pastor Bill titled his head to the side and studied him for a moment. “Oh, are you celebrating something?”

  “No, should I be?”

  Pastor Bill shrugged. “I was just wondering if you heard from Sierra lately.”

  “I spoke to her a day or two ago.” Cole tapped the front of his shoe against the floor. “I didn’t tell her about,” he looked up at the ceiling and back again,” you know.” He sighed. “I just don’t get how the town could turn their backs on her again so quickly.”

 

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