Tender Vow

by MacLaren Sharlene

  A chill shot down her spine as she searched his eyes. “What did he say? Tell me, Jay.”

  “He had the gall to accuse me of trying to steal you away from him, claiming that I’d always loved you.” He creased his brow and looked close to tears himself. “It all makes sense now. I nearly slugged him in the gut for making that ridiculous accusation, Rach, but if you had told him we kissed just before his wedding day…well, he probably thought—I’m not sure—that you weren’t fully committed to the marriage in the beginning, maybe, or that you hadn’t even taken your wedding vows seriously.” His gaze dropped. “The guy had to be hurting.”

  Unstoppable tears started flowing, and she let them come. “I’m such a fool. If only—”

  He touched her elbow. “Shh. Don’t punish yourself over something you can’t do anything about. It’s done. If anything, it’s my fault. I should have forced him off that mountain and made him come back to the lodge with me so we could talk it out. Maybe I could have gotten him to tell me what had him so hell-bent on thinking you and I still harbored feelings for each other.” He shook his head. “Not that he would’ve listened. Shoot, he wasn’t even thinking straight that day. When we got to the top of Devil’s Run and realized how bad the conditions were, I wanted to take the lift back down, but he wouldn’t listen. He got it in his head to challenge me, and I wouldn’t accept the challenge.”

  “And so you argued about it.” Tears clogged her throat. “Witnesses overheard you quarrelling. Down deep, Jay, you knew you’d win that challenge.”

  “I didn’t feel like competing against him. For crying out loud, all we ever did our entire lives was compete, and I got tired of it. That was not the day for sibling rivalry. His anger freaked me out, and I didn’t get it at the time. He never told me you made that confession. Man, why didn’t I dig deeper for answers?” He fisted one hand and frowned so deeply that his eyes nearly disappeared in the crinkles. “If only he’d told me. I could have assured him that kiss was all my selfish doing, that in no way did you initiate it. It might have stopped him from going down that icy slope in a fit of anger, as if he had something to prove to me.”

  She couldn’t let him take full responsibility. Several jagged sighs slipped out. “It takes two willing parties to kiss, Jay. Looking back, I don’t know why I let you do it, but I did. And afterward, I felt ashamed and embarrassed. But I also knew I still loved John with all my heart.” She looked at him, yearning for answers. “Does that make sense?”

  He tilted his head to the side, studying her face, and gave a slow nod. The fact that he made no further move to touch her didn’t escape her notice. “Yeah. It satisfied a curiosity in both of us. We had to know before you married John that you were doing the right thing. And you were.”

  Her thoughts tangled into a firm knot, one she couldn’t loosen or sort through. But she did know one thing. “So….” She closed her eyes and raked her fingers through her hair, then looked at him with newfound resolve. “That is why we cannot entertain any further notions of kissing or going any deeper with our feelings. It is simply not an option, Jay. Not for me, anyway. To do so would be to dishonor my husband’s memory.”

  “Is that so?” The clock on the wall struck eleven gongs. “I’ll respect you for that—for now, anyway. I think we both have some things to ponder and pray about.”

  “Bye, Jay.”

  He stared at her for all of ten seconds, and she could hear the slow intake and release of each breath. “I’ll see you at Johnny’s birthday party—how’s that?” he said.

  “I suppose we’ll have to see each other on occasion.”

  He touched the tip of her nose and chuckled low in his throat. “We can’t avoid each other entirely, Rachel.”

  Just before he turned to head for his car, he murmured, “Kiss the kids for me.”

  Chapter 14

  On Sunday morning, Rachel sat in a pew near the back of Harvest Community Church’s sanctuary and tried to focus as Pastor Eddie Turnwall delivered his message. Distractions were more demanding, though, so rather than try to memorize the major sermon points, she allowed her eyes to drop to the open Bible in her lap, and she read the first verse her eyes settled on, Psalm 139:17: “How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God. How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand; when I awake, I am still with You.”

  The words breathed truth into the very fibers of her soul, sending a river of comfort straight to her heart. Still, she couldn’t shake the stream of despair that ran alongside it. Why did I tell John, Lord? she berated herself for the hundredth time since talking to Jason on Thanksgiving. Will I ever be able to forgive myself? Fresh twinges of guilt trickled through her veins. Sniffing, she opened her purse and fished for a tissue.

  “Are you all right, hon?” whispered her friend, Laura King, who was seated next to her. Rachel usually sat with her parents or in-laws, but she’d been running late this morning, and so, after taking Meagan to Sunday school and Johnny to the nursery, she’d snuck in at the back of the sanctuary, where Laura had snagged her before she sat down. Having just gone through a bitter divorce, Laura was alone, too, and dealing with her own set of problems. In the past several months, the newfound friendship between the two women had been good for both of them.

  Rachel smiled and nodded. “I’m good.”

  Of course, saying it and meaning it were altogether different. She blew her nose and dabbed at the corners of her eyes, wanting desperately to keep her eye shadow, liner, and mascara intact.

  “Jesus provides abundant life,” Pastor Eddie said from the front, catching her attention. “Abundance, you ask? Are we talking health and wealth, pastor? No, no, we’re talking abundance of the Spirit. He wants us living beyond mediocrity. That’s not to say we won’t encounter trials and hardships along the way, but in them we can experience the peace, rest, and joy of Christ. That is abundance, my friends.”

  Rachel took hold of his words and mentally filed them deep within her heart, planning to pull them out later for further contemplation. Could she find peace and rest in the shadow of an unresolved conflict? Additional questions haunted her: Had John carried his pain and anger to the grave? Had he been picturing her with Jason as his skis had hit that steep slope of death and he’d lost control, slamming into a tree?

  She looked down at her Bible again and read an earlier passage from the same psalm:

  Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend into heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,” even the night shall be light about me; indeed, the darkness shall not hide me from You, but the night shines as the day; the darkness and the light are both alike to You.

  Those words, along with the bits and pieces she gathered from Pastor Eddie’s sermon, filled the empty places of her heart, at least for the moment. Now, if she could just find a way to make them last.

  That Thursday, exactly one week after Thanksgiving, Rachel took up the task of cleaning and organizing drawers and closets, a job she’d put off for well over a year. With Meagan at preschool and Johnny spending the day with Tanna, who had the day off from school, it provided her the opportunity to concentrate on her chore.

  After John’s death, she’d taken several items of his clothing to the nearest charity organization, but there still remained a good share of his things—stuff she simply couldn’t part with yet, like his everyday shoes, a rack of his favorite ties, and the cozy robe she still slipped on at night if she needed to feel his nearness. And then, there was that large plastic tub of his keepsakes. She had never taken it down from the high shelf where it was stored, in part because it was too cumbersome, but also because lifting the lid might very well wreak emotional havoc. So, she left the box alone and straightened the lower
closet shelves, disposed of some of her old jeans and shirts, and sorted through her large collection of shoes.

  From there, she moved on to her drawers of socks, summer shirts and shorts, and sweaters. She kept two garbage bags at the ready: one for anything with holes or stains, to be thrown away, and the other for items in decent condition, to be donated to charity.

  When she finished her chore and was tying the bags, the doorbell chimed. She went to the window to look down at the driveway and spotted her father-in-law’s car. Rarely did her in-laws drop in unannounced. Donna, in particular, considered it improper.

  She skipped down the stairs, surprised to discover only Tom standing on her doorstep. “Dad? Well, gee whiz! To what do I owe this honor? Come in, come in,” she said, holding the door open with one arm and giving him a quick hug with the other.

  He wore an awkward expression as he glanced around the foyer. “Don’t mean to barge in on you, but I was in the neighborhood. I had coffee with several of my cronies at that River House restaurant.”

  “Yes, I know the place. John and I went there on occasion. You didn’t have to work today?”

  “Naw, I took the day off. Got a lot of vacation to use up before year’s end.”

  She brushed several blonde hairs out of her eyes and thought about her awful appearance—her stained T-shirt and holey, worn jeans. “Would you care to sit down?” She gestured toward the living room.

  “No, I— Are Meagan and Johnny here? Just thought I’d stop by to see them.”

  “No, sorry. Meaggie’s at preschool, and Johnny’s at my parents’ place. Tanna’s watching him.”

  “Ah.” He gave a slow nod and inhaled. “I smell Lemon Pledge. Have you been cleaning?”

  “Yep! I’ve been organizing closets, sorting through drawers, straightening shelves….”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  “You sure you don’t want to sit?”

  “No, I’m heading over to the lumber store. My son pointed out a few things around the house that need fixing, so I’m getting at it. Kid’s got an eagle eye when it comes to houses. ’Course, Donna’s plain overjoyed.”

  “You should just have Jay do it for you. He thrives on that sort of thing.”

  “I can take care of my own house.” His tone carried a stubborn tautness. “I heard he’s been doing some odd jobs around your house. That’s…good.” Outside, the wind picked up, drowning out the classical piano CD she had set at low volume. Tom looked at the front window. “You heard from him since Thanksgiving?”

  “Jason? No, why?”

  He waved a hand. “Oh, nothing. Just wondered, is all.” He looked down, assessing her with his gray green eyes. “You seem like you’re doing better these days.”

  “Do I? I still have lots of hard times, but it’s nice when people tell me they’ve seen subtle changes. It’s hard to believe it’s been an entire year since—the accident. How are you and Mom holding up?”

  “Us? Oh, good. Fine.”

  Of course, he never came clean with his true feelings. “I’ve been memorizing Scriptures—especially verses from Psalms,” she said. “The support group I attend at church has been a big encouragement to me, too. I was telling Mom a few days ago that you guys ought to come with me sometime. It’d be good for you.”

  “Pfff, that’s not really my scene. I’m findin’ my own way to work through this thing.”

  “With the Lord’s help, I hope.”

  He looked at his shoes, then scratched his head before giving her a sideways glance. “I s’pose I got some issues—about the accident an’ all.”

  Her stomach soured in an instant. “Like what?”

  He gave another wave of dismissal. “Aw, it’s not worth talking about.”

  “No, really. You can tell me.” So seldom did Tom Evans speak about that day that it seemed imperative she draw out whatever she could about how he thought or felt, despite her slight apprehension to know the truth.

  He pushed up his left coat sleeve to look at his watch. “I better get going. Donna will wonder what’s become of me.”

  “Okay,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, “but tell me something first. Do you blame Jason for the accident? I said things at the cemetery I had no right saying, remember?” His head bobbed slowly. “Shock overruled my common sense, and I lashed out at him. Why didn’t you stand up for your son that day?”

  He pulled his arm away and turned toward the door. “This isn’t the time for talking about it.”

  “Of course, it is. There’s nobody else around. If you carry blame in your heart, at least you can tell me why. Sometimes, it just helps to get your feelings out in the open.”

  With his back to her, he put his hand to the doorknob but didn’t turn it; he just stood there staring at his hand. “They argued,” he murmured.

  “I know that. Brothers tend to. Did he ever tell you what they argued about?”

  “No, and I don’t want to know!” he shot back in a gruffer tone than he’d ever used with her. “Sorry,” he said, immediately turning to look at her with regret in his shiny eyes.

  “It’s all right.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed. “It’s just—whatever they were fighting about precipitated the accident. Jay could have prevented it.”

  “How could he have prevented it? John acted of his own free will when he set off down Devil’s Run.”

  Her father-in-law took several labored breaths and looked at the low-burning fire she’d started that morning. “I don’t like to think about that hill.”

  “Nor do I,” she whispered.

  “Then, let’s not discuss it further. I’ll—I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

  “Dad.” She touched his arm again and breathed a prayer for strength. “Jay feels like he can’t measure up to your standards…that he’s always lived in John’s shadow.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. Why would he think that?”

  “Well, have you ever driven down to Harrietta to check out his office or seen the houses he’s built? Have you ever swung through some of the neighborhoods he’s developed? He told me he put a bid on a new housing development just ten miles from here, and they accepted the deal a week before Thanksgiving. Did you know that?”

  Tom’s chest swelled, and he arched an eyebrow. “Really? That’s somethin’, huh?”

  “You ought to tell him you’re proud of him.”

  “Pfff, he knows that,” Tom grumbled. “Why are you so concerned, anyway?”

  The sense that her father-in-law harbored the tiniest bit of resentment toward her made her stomach lurch. “He’s my brother-in-law, and I care about him.”

  “Humph. You know, there was a time when I thought you and Jason were better suited for each other than you and John.”

  She rocked backward, nearly losing her balance. “I loved John very much,” she said firmly, emphasizing every word. Is he actually calling our marriage and my love for John into question?

  He backpedaled. “Oh, ’course, I know that now. I just wondered, you know, if you ever wished you had married, well—”

  “What? No! Gracious, no!”

  He let out a slow sigh and shifted his weight. “Well, I was just a little curious.”

  “Dad, for goodness’ sake! I can’t believe you’d even hint at such a thing. John was the love of my life.”

  He looked down at her and bit his lower lip. Then, with a manufactured grin, he said, “Oh, I know that. Good grief, I hope I haven’t upset you, honey. That wasn’t my intention. Sorry if I have.”

  “It’s all right—it’s fine.” Now, she was the one not wanting to express her true feelings. But how could she have shared them, given the simmering anger his subtle accusation had provoked? She might say something she’d regret.

  “Well, I’ll be going now.”

  This time, she made no effort to stop him.

  ***

  “You idiot! What are you trying to prove?”

  John adjus
ted his goggles and ski cap and grinned a smile that lacked warmth. “Challenging you to a race, brother.”

  “On Devil’s Run? You must be crazy. Come on, let’s take Steeple Run instead.”

  “What? You scared I’ll beat you for a change?”

  “Don’t be stupid. It’s not safe—not today. Look, it’s starting to sleet. Come on, John, quit playing.”

  “You think I’m playing?” John yelled. “This is not playing, bro.”

  “What’s been eating at you?”

  Ski poles stuck firmly at his sides, John hollered against the biting, stinging wind and icy sheets of sleet. “You’ve always wanted her, haven’t you?”

  “What?” Jason stepped closer, his gut tumbling and his brain whirling with sickening disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

  “I guess I always knew it, but I kept pushing the notion aside—until now. You’ll never marry that Candace woman. She’s not really what you’re looking for in a wife.”

  “John, you’re making no sense. What are you suggesting, anyway?”

  “You know very well what I’m suggesting. I’ve seen it in your eyes. You’ve wanted Rachel since ninth grade, and now you think you can steal her right out from under me!”

  “What in the—? I liked her back in school, sure. Those were the days you and I battled back and forth over who would finally win her. And it was you she wanted, remember? You’re the one she married. She loves you, John!” This he screamed as if to someone at the top of the next mountain peak, wanting to make it good and clear. He figured it was better than punching John in the gut for his foolish words. He’d known something was gnawing at him ever since they’d left for the airport. John had spoken no more than a few sentences during the flight, and Jason had finally gotten out of him that he and Rachel had not parted on good terms. A lovers’ spat, Jason figured. It would iron itself out by the time John was home again.

  “Don’t think I don’t know, Jason!”

  “Don’t know what? You’re making about as much sense as a drunken buzzard!”