by Judy Baer
I looked up drowsily into his face.
“Sleeping Beauty awakes.”
“How long was I out?”
“Not long. Maybe an hour.”
I struggled to sit up, but he held me firmly in place.
“You don’t have to. I like it.”
“I’m squashing you.”
“Like Tinker Bell and Captain Hook. I can hardly feel you.” His hand tightened around my shoulder.
I probably should have jumped to my feet, but my body was engulfed in lassitude and I liked the warm, firm feel of his chest against my shoulder.
We sat that way through the ten-o’clock news, Leno, a rerun of Star Trek and three passes through the hall by the neighbors. Finally, about midnight, I squirmed again and rose from my nesting place. “I’d better walk Winslow.”
Adam stood, too, and eyed the dog, now on the floor, unconscious and snoring at my feet. “Yeah, he really looks desperate to get out. Or is it just me you want out the door?”
“Of course not you! This has been a fantastic evening, just the kind I like. No noisy restaurants or crowds. Cozy. Like me.”
“You certainly are.”
And before I realized exactly what he had in mind, Adam took my face in his hands.
I stepped backward and nearly toppled over Winslow. “I can’t… I shouldn’t…”
“Don’t kiss on first dates?” He looked amused. “Sorry, Cassia. I know how seriously you take the Bible’s admonitions about getting involved with a guy like me.” With the back of his knuckles he stroked my cheek. He smiled sadly and turned to leave.
My fingertips rested on the skin his touch had branded, and I sighed.
A guy like me. Who exactly is a guy like Adam? A believer who has lost his faith? A seeker who will find it again? Perhaps I’m to be a part of his rediscovery process! Whether I ever date him or not is nothing compared to his experiencing God again…yet I couldn’t help hoping the former would follow that latter. This evening had shown me just how comfortable I could be with Adam, if only there were no barriers to prevent our growing closer.
CHAPTER 21
“I can’t do it anymore, Terrance.” Adam paced the soft carpeted floors of his agent’s office.
Only for Adam would Terrance give up his Saturday morning.
At first glance, the office looked like that of a successful CEO, but behind those wood-paneled walls were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves housing more manuscripts and tomes than some small libraries, all in tidy, organized rows. Terrance was as painstaking and cautious as Adam was adventurous. They’d maintained their relationship for the past ten years by balancing each other’s personalities. Terrance was one of the few who fully knew the depth of Adam’s passion and commitment.
Although Adam was now wearing a path in the newly laid cream carpet, Terrance let him pace.
“I can’t lie to her for another day. Every time she trusts me with another thought about her post-lottery experiences, I feel like it’s a blade in my heart. Deceit has never been my style and I won’t do it anymore, not even for the sake of a story.”
“Do you have enough to write it?”
Adam glared at his agent. “I do. It’s started, but I won’t let you get your hands on it. She’d never trust me again. That’s what hurts. I’ve spent my life trying to be trustworthy, and now…”
Terrance leaned back in his leather chair and folded his arms over his chest. “So when did you actually realize that you were in love with her?”
Adam nearly tripped on a nonexistent lump in the carpet. “In love with her? Get real, Terrance. I never mix work and pleasure. Work is work and, well, everything else is…everything else,” he finished lamely.
“Is that how you stayed so detached from your experience in Burundi?”
“Come on, Terry, you know that would take a heart of stone.”
“And your heart is hardly stone.” Terrance smiled in a knowing way that had always driven Adam crazy. “Your heart is as soft and sentimental as any I’ve seen.”
“And that’s our little secret.” Adam scraped his fingers through his hair. “It would ruin my reputation if people knew I was actually human.”
“It would certainly be awful if it got out that you’re not a robotic wunderkind who can write award-winning pieces on Ebola, the economy of third-world countries and the ravages of terrorism in his sleep. You’ve covered a lot of human rights issues, come away despairing and never let it show. But think of this, Adam. You’re doing a story on a woman who won the lottery and doesn’t even want the money. Compare it to your past stories, and it’s not worthy of all this angst…unless you’re in love.”
Adam flung himself into a leather wing chair. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.”
Terrance’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline, as if he hadn’t expected Adam to fess up quite so quickly.
“I think it’s that red hair…or the freckles…or that wacky view she has of the world. Maybe it’s the way she keeps pretending the money’s not there and pinches pennies till they scream just for the fun of it. She can put herself together better with fifty bucks’ worth of clothes from a discount store than any runway model wearing thousands of dollars’ worth of designer garments.”
Terrance nodded his encouragement.
“It’s as if every day when she opens her eyes, the world is brand-new. She’s so grateful to God and happy to be alive. And that big dumb dog…he adores her. She just sits down with him and talks to him face-to-face and he listens. I can’t even imagine how wonderful she’d be with children.” Adam made a grunting sound. “Even Pepto listens to her!”
Terrance seemed to understand perfectly. “So you’re really in love with her.”
“How did I let it happen?” Adam growled, although he already knew. It had been so gradual that he was in love before he realized it. That bizarre mix of flowers, that crazy salad that looked like swamp sludge and tasted delicious, the way Pepto trusted her—no, adored her—her goodness, that wild red hair, her goofy habit of spouting Scripture as if everyone had the whole Book memorized…
He’d been sunk from the beginning, he realized now. He just hadn’t realized how deeply he’d fallen.
It wasn’t until he’d almost kissed her that he’d known for sure. She looked and smelled like cotton candy and catnip, fresh soap and spring air, like peaches. He was so hooked. Adam felt like a trout flopping on the shore. There would be no catch and release with this one.
“You let down your famous Cavanaugh guard. For once you didn’t think about time demands or emotional commitments draining the energy you try to save for your work. You told me you were going to quit writing, remember? You walked in, but left your armor outside.” Terrance’s eyes twinkled merrily. “And you got caught. Bing. Cupid’s arrow sailed right through your heart.”
“Cut it out, Terry. You aren’t helping. I can’t believe I let this happen. Now I care. I’m going to break her heart when I tell her what I’ve been up to.”
“Then why tell her?”
Adam looked at Terrance, his eyes anguished. “You don’t know her like I do. I can’t not tell her, even though she’ll be devastated. She’s trusted me at a time when she hasn’t let many into her inner circle. She’s afraid of being pulled this way and that by people who want her to line their pockets or fund their charities.” He raked his fingers through his hair until it stood in dark spikes. “She’s afraid of people exactly like me.”
“Why hasn’t she already given the dough away? What is she waiting for?”
“God. She’s waiting for Him to show her what she’s supposed to do with it. Until she thinks He’s given the okay, she’ll hang back.”
“And He’s not talking?”
“Apparently not yet, but she’s patient. She’s convinced that there’s a heavenly design on that money and it’s her job to carry it out.”
“If you give up the story, you aren’t going to be able to do what you want in Burundi,” Terrance pointed out. �
�It’s not as if you aren’t trying to do something charitable. Maybe she could give you—”
“Terrance, the best I can hope to come out of this after I tell her the truth is that we’re still on speaking terms. Cassia will forgive, but it’s going to be harder to forget. She says that ‘as far as the east is from the west’ stuff is God’s forte.”
Terrance looked even more befuddled.
“Psalms 103:12. ‘He has removed our sins as far away from us as the east is from the west.’ God not only forgives sins, but then, once you ask forgiveness for them, He forgets them, too.”
Suddenly Adam let out a growl that reverberated throughout the room and made Terrance jump.
Adam put his hands over his eyes and groaned. “It’s worse than I thought, Terry. Now she’s got me spouting Scripture verses and expecting you to understand!”
CHAPTER 22
“What’s wrong with you?” I carefully picked a ripe black cherry from the bowl my sister set in front of me. “You look like the dog ate your homework.”
Jane made sure that Mattie was still involved in the kitchen with Dave. They were conspiring over a surprise dessert for dinner. “I need to talk to you. I’ve been putting it off, but it can’t wait any longer.”
“So talk.” I gazed at my sister benevolently. I’ve been looking at everything through magnanimous pink glasses all week and am practically dizzy with happiness. Floating on bubbles of hope, I’ve been praying about and planning how it will be when Adam sees what’s missing in his life. Preoccupied as I am with what part God wants me to play in bringing Adam back into the family—the family of God—it’s consumed much of my prayer time.
It makes sense. Adam knows what belief in God is about and sees it lived in his own family. And he cares for me, I know he does. I’ve been living the “happily ever after” part all week, the part after God taps Adam on the shoulder and shows him what’s been missing, so even Jane’s creased forehead and downturned lips don’t faze me.
I can’t help it that Jane isn’t the one in love. I almost giggled, but that would only have upset her more. Finally it’s my turn at romance. I had no idea how glorious it could be.
“You’ve been floating around here like a rubber ducky in a bathtub, oblivious to the fact that you’re in danger of being sucked down the drain at any moment.”
“Oooh, scary.” I took another cherry and nibbled at it. “I hate it when that happens.”
“Sis! Wake up!”
She looked like a grumpy old cloud, and I didn’t want her raining on my parade. “Jane, I’m not in the mood.”
“Well, get into it. This is important.”
“You’re making me tired, sis. Just tell me, what’s so important that you can’t allow me to enjoy being happy?”
For a moment my sister looked hurt and scared. “Jane, are you all right?”
Obviously not. She looked as though she were about to cry. Then she wailed, “No, I’m not all right, and you aren’t either!”
My pink hazy fog dissipated. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Is it something to do with Mom or Dad? They’re okay, aren’t they? I should call…”
Before I could jump to my feet, Jane grabbed me. “Mom and Dad are fine. Everyone is fine…sort of. Everyone but Adam Cavanaugh, that is. I have to tell you something, Cassia.”
My heart banged in my chest so hard it hurt my ears.
“Stella came to see me yesterday. She’s a smart, savvy woman, Cassia, and more suspicious than most.”
“That’s not a news flash, Jane. I suppose beautiful women like her have to be cautious. I wouldn’t know.”
“Because you aren’t beautiful? Cassia, you are absolutely stunning, and you don’t even know it!”
“Thanks, I think. But what has this got to do with Stella?”
Jane reached into her pocket, drew out a business card and handed it to me.
Confidential and Accurate
Helen Cross, Private Investigator
Contact at 888-555-1212
“So?” I handed the card back.
“You know the name, then?”
“Sure. Stella has told me about her. They’re acquaintances, even friends. Stella says she’s been using Ms. Cross regularly since the lottery winnings. She checks out everything from charitable organizations to first dates. Ridiculous, huh?”
“Maybe it’s smarter than you think.”
“To spy on people? Hardly.” I lowered my voice. “Frankly, I’m afraid Stella is pretty full of herself, and the money hasn’t helped. I love her and all…”
“Cassia, Stella had a bad feeling about your neighbor.”
“And Randy, and everyone on the planet walking on two legs.” I didn’t tell her that Stella had flirted with Adam and been ignored. No wonder she was suspicious. That had probably never happened to her before.
“So she asked this Ms. Cross to run Adam’s name through a search.”
A chill raced through me. My intestines did an acrobatic flip and the taste in my mouth grew metallic. “She spied on Adam?”
“She called it ‘checking’ on him.”
“Spying, pure and simple!” I don’t believe I’ve ever felt so indignant or outraged. I looked around for my jacket and purse. “I have to talk to Stella.”
“She was right, Cassia. I don’t think your friend Adam is completely aboveboard.”
“What do you mean?” I sat down again. I had to. My legs were collapsing.
“Do you know what Adam Cavanaugh does for a living?”
“Vaguely. He travels with his job and is a writer or editor. I didn’t ask for details.” I went all woozy again, thinking about all the not-so-serious things we laughed about. “We have so many other things to discuss….”
“He’s a journalist.” Jane opened a magazine and pushed it toward me. There was Adam, a casual sports jacket thrown over his traditional chamois shirt and faded jeans, smiling and shaking hands with an important-looking man.
Adam Cavanaugh, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, meets with the head of the prize committee, which had praised him for his fine work and humanitarian efforts. Cavanaugh, when asked how long he would continue his rigorous and emotionally taxing schedule, was quoted as saying, “One of these days I’m going to find a less gut-wrenching story to do, but until then, I feel this is the place I need to be and can do the most good.” Cavanaugh, whose next assignment is Burundi, will travel with the Red Cross and several humanitarian groups in the area.”
A journalist? Like the many reporters who had been stalking me since the lottery winners were announced? They’d all returned again, full force, when Bob’s gambling blunders had come to light—no doubt hoping one of the other winners would have an equally juicy story and rapid fall into poverty. Was Adam like the others who were jockeying to get my “story?”
“You didn’t get that close to him, did you, sis? I know you’re neighbors and all, but you haven’t known him that long….”
I felt as though my body were imploding as my heart and feelings crumbled to dust. I’d trusted him. I was willing to love him. I’ve never felt such devastation and betrayal.
No wonder he was so attentive and listened so closely to my words. This was why he was so solicitous, patient and friendly. I thought I was avoiding the den of media vipers, and I’d had one virtually in my nest all along!
Involuntarily, my hand went to my face where Adam had touched me. How could someone so loving, gentle and precious be so…insincere?
I knew in that moment I’d never been in love before, not until Adam. And how did I know? Because I had never, ever felt so brokenhearted.
And then I did what has become my default reaction to shock. I fainted.
I scared Jane badly. As I came to, I heard panic in her voice and wished I’d stayed out longer. Much as I know logically that it is better to find out that Adam is a liar and a hypocrite now rather than later, I resent both her and Stella for meddling in my life. I kept my eyes closed and lay very still, no
t wanting to face her just yet.
Then my grandmother rushed into the room and waved something, a dish towel, probably, in my face. Meanwhile Jane spilled out the story of what had just happened.
Smart man that he is, Dave announced that he was taking Winslow for a walk. A very long walk.
It took everything in my power not to smile when Mattie said, “Jane, you meddled in this just as much as Stella did. If Stella thought it was so important that your sister know these things, why didn’t she tell Cassia herself?”
“I didn’t do it because I was snoopy, Grandma. I love Cassia. I don’t want her hurt.”
“But she’s hurt anyway.”
“Stella came to me wondering what she should do. I thought it might be easier for her to take coming from me….” Jane was on the verge of tears, and although I knew it wasn’t right, I didn’t feel like rescuing her, so I continued to lie perfectly still.
“You wouldn’t want her to get mixed up with someone who was trying to trick her, would you?” Jane sounded righteous and a little huffy.
My grandmother’s voice was patient and long-suffering. “Cassia’s a smart girl and a cautious one. If the man isn’t what he says he is, she would have found out in due time. It’s her life—let her live it and learn from it.”
“But she’s crazy about him! We couldn’t let that go on….”
“We?”
“Grandma! You aren’t saying I should have just let her fall in love and have her heart broken?” Jane quit fluttering around me and turned her focus to our grandmother.
“I remember a time when you were worried that she was going to fall in love with Ken and not see his ‘imperfections,’ either.”
“I stayed out of that…mostly. We don’t always have to learn the hard way, do we?”
“Sometimes that’s the only way we learn, dear. Besides, Cassia is in close contact with the Lord at all times. Don’t you think they’ve been talking about Adam, too?”
“Yes, but…”
“There’s no ‘yes, butting’ God, Janie. Now, quit staring at me and rouse your sister. You have some apologizing to do.”