by Carol Voss
“That’s less than three weeks away,” somebody reminded.
“I can pull together an advertising campaign as soon as tomorrow,” Ben volunteered.
People began exchanging ideas. Alyssa could feel enthusiasm building in the room, her own included.
“This project would even fit with our cause,” Liz contributed. “We’re reclaiming the Burkhalter Building just like the Stefanos did with the Victorian.”
“All in favor of a fund-raiser at the Stefanos’, say aye,” Lou announced.
A hearty aye filled the room.
“Opposed?” Lou scanned the group. “Well, looks like all we need is an organizer.”
Ben turned to Alyssa. “Would you consider taking this on?”
“Me?” she sputtered. She glanced at the animated faces around her and felt more alive than she had for a long while. “But I’m not a member of your committee.”
“Then we’ll appoint you one.” Ben grinned. “We really need your help.”
Hadn’t she been looking for a way she could repay him for everything? Besides, she’d been doing whatever she could to help low-income families for as long as she could remember. She’d also excelled at working on her father’s and Cam’s fund-raisers. So not only was this in her ballpark, but she also had the know-how to hit the ball clear out of the park.
But she had to be realistic. There were only so many hours in a day, and she had a lot to get done before her parents arrived for Christmas. “I’m just not sure I’ll have time. I need to care for the boys and find a job.”
“We desperately need an office manager and all-around organizer at the church,” Pastor Nick said. “The council has approved the position, but we haven’t found anybody to fill it. If the Reclamation fund-raiser was your first project to organize, would you be interested in the job, Alyssa?”
Her mouth flew open before she could stop it. Pastor Nick was offering her a job at the church? But church people were big on charity. At least, they had been in Madison. Was that why the pastor was being so generous? Had Ben told him about Cam, and that she needed to support her boys? She shot a look at Ben.
He gave her an encouraging smile.
“You could work at home some days,” Pastor Nick said. “We have a day-care center, too, for days you need to work at church.”
Working at home part of the week sounded ideal. And she could certainly use the money. Alyssa looked at the supportive expressions on Ben’s friends’ faces. No question, organizing the fund-raiser would be a great use of her talents, plus she’d be helping Ben work for his cause.
But if the job was an act of charity, she’d be right back where she started. “I’m sorry but I can’t accept.”
Pastor Nick looked puzzled. “I’m sure we can’t offer you what you’re worth, but maybe we can work out a compromise. Please take your time to think about it. If you have questions, you can give me a call.”
She sighed, effectively agreeing to think about it. But only because she needed to find out if Ben and the pastor had decided to make her the church’s new project.
Chapter Six
With the boys tucked in and Hope reading in the living room cuddled beside Digger, Alyssa poured a cup of tea from the electric teapot she’d dug out of her things. She needed to talk to Ben about Pastor Nick’s job offer. “Would you like cinnamon tea?”
“It smells terrific, but no thanks.” Standing at the island counter, he clicked a few keys on his laptop, then stepped back and offered her the stool. “I’ll show you the plans for the Burkhalter Building.”
Tea in hand, she decided to put off her questions for the moment. Settling on the stool, she studied the computer screen.
He moved behind her to look over her shoulder, his fresh outdoors scent mingling with the cinnamon.
Nice combination. “I see two two-bedroom units on the first floor and one on the second? Is there a laundry?”
“There’s a Laundromat next door.”
“It will cost the renters extra for laundry that way.”
He pointed to the plans. “We planned a large-enough bathroom to allow for stackable machines right here if we end up having enough money for them.”
“That’s smart.” She pointed at the screen. “I like the balcony upstairs.”
“I’ve lived in enough upstairs apartments to know how claustrophobic they can get without access to the outside.” His warm breath ruffled her hair.
A little shiver tweaked her nerves. She dismissed it. “How long do you think it will take to get the building ready for occupancy once you have money to go ahead?”
“Tony promises a couple months. We’ve already gutted and cleaned out the building, even ripped down these walls.” He pointed out the ones he meant, his arm brushing her shoulder as he leaned in.
She swallowed, doing her best to ignore his closeness. Stillness hovered between them for a moment.
He pulled back and moved to sit on the stool beside her. “So there you have it.”
She let out a breath, took a sip of tea, attempted to refocus on the plans. “These are very impressive.”
“I’d rather show you the real project, but this will do for now.”
“You’re really invested in this, aren’t you?”
“You saw that there’s no housing out there. Hope and I had to live in a motor home on the property while I cleared the land and Tony helped me build the house. But back to the Burkhalter Building. You seemed to have really got into planning the fund-raiser.”
She had. The idea still intrigued her, but... “What can I say? Fund-raisers are part of my DNA.”
“I don’t know if we can pull it off unless you organize it.”
She gave him a pained look. “Of course you can. You have a talented group there.”
“We do, but nobody has experience working on such an ambitious fund-raiser as this one. I’m glad Pastor Nick realized you could help and offered you a job. I’m surprised you didn’t accept it on the spot.”
She wouldn’t get a better chance to ask her question. “Did you talk to the pastor about giving me a job?”
“No. Why?”
She nibbled her lip, trying to decide if she believed him. She did. “Just being paranoid, I guess. I didn’t come to Rainbow Lake to have people take care of me.”
“Got that memo.” He gave her a questioning look. “Can’t say I understand why you’re so concerned about accepting help when you need it, though.”
“I’ve relied on my parents too much my entire life. And I relied too much on Cam, as well. When he died—” She pressed her hand to her forehead to stop emotions she didn’t want to feel.
Ben looked at her as if he empathized with her pain. “It had to be a terrible shock not only to lose your husband, but also to suddenly be alone with a little boy and a baby on the way. How did you manage to get through it?”
A chill shook her. “I didn’t,” she whispered.
“You didn’t? What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t...do it.” She shook her head and did her best to shut down the building nausea.
He peered at her intently. “What happened?”
She didn’t have an answer to his question, at least, not one that would ever satisfy her. “I folded up in a heap. Disappeared really...in every way that counted.” She blew out a breath. “I completely abandoned my son when he lost his daddy.” She shook her head, desperately wanting to deny that knowledge.
Ben’s expression encouraged her to go on.
“I only know that after the policewoman left, I was bathing Joey before I put him to bed. But—” She shook her head, doing her best to think through what had happened for the billionth time. “I couldn’t get him out of the tub. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. I was too weak and helpless to take ca
re of my child. Or myself.”
“Alyssa—” Ben grasped her hand “—it’s okay.”
“It will never be okay.” But she had to get hold of herself. Squeezing her eyes closed, she concentrated on facing the pain the way her therapist had taught her. Slowly, slowly...the nausea faded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You should have had somebody with you. It sounds like you were in shock.”
“My grief therapist said it was my body’s way of protecting itself and the baby I was carrying.”
“Pretty miraculous, don’t you think?”
She nodded. “But being overwhelmed and helpless is terrifying. I’ll do anything never to experience that again.”
“My dad used to tell me that my weakness pointed to God’s strength.”
She lifted her hands to her hot cheeks. “I’m not following.”
“My mother left my dad and me when I was eight. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. My dad told me to lay my weakness at Jesus’s feet and ask Him to fill me. The best advice he ever gave me.”
“So you did?”
“I did. Still do.”
She sighed. “I don’t know if I can do that, but I’ll try. Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m really sorry your mother left when you were a child.”
“Thanks. But you were telling me what happened when your husband died. Did your parents come to Madison when you needed them?”
She took a shaky breath. “They arranged everything. The funeral, the burial. Mother even put her life on hold and lived with us for a month. When she had to go back, she and Daddy insisted we move to Washington to live with them.”
“Did you?”
“I couldn’t leave our home. I just couldn’t.”
“What happened?”
“The wonderful grief therapist Mother had found for me advised my parents against uprooting us from our home so soon after Cam’s death.” She sighed. “So Mother enlisted friends and people from the church to take care of us.” She took a deep breath. “I was on bed rest for months with Robbie, and those wonderful people took care of us. I was completely useless. To Joey. Even to myself.”
He gave her a glimpse of a smile. “Not to the baby you were carrying. God took good care of you and your boys,” he said softly.
“Yes,” she agreed. “But I came to Rainbow Lake to learn to take care of myself. Like Gram did.”
“Then the job fits right in with your plan, doesn’t it?”
“It does. But I’ve been on the receiving end long enough.”
“You’re not on the receiving end this time.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re more than qualified for the job, Alyssa. The church is fortunate to get you.”
Did he mean it? Or was he just telling her that to make her feel better?
“You know one of the things I like most about the church?”
“What’s that?” she asked cautiously.
“It’s not only a place to receive help, but it’s also an excellent place to give back.”
“Give back? I like that idea.” She remembered the way people had treated her at the meeting. They hadn’t looked at her with sympathy...like she needed help, had they? They’d respected her input. They’d even asked her to chair their fund-raiser. They wouldn’t have done that out of pity, right? Hadn’t they asked her to be part of their group as an equal contributor to their cause? She smiled.
“I like your smile. I’d like to see more of it.”
Suddenly self-conscious, she looked at the floor. She’d told him things in the past few minutes she’d told only her therapist and a few people she trusted. She’d learned early to keep her thoughts to herself or risk embarrassing her senator father. But apparently, she completely trusted Ben. And he was so easy to talk to. She hoped he didn’t mind.
“So you’re thinking you’ll take the job?” he asked.
She was. It seemed perfect. There was only one hurdle she could think of. “Before I can accept it, I need to check out the day-care center.”
“Right.” He was quiet for a couple beats. “I’ll meet you at church tomorrow. I can show you around, and we’ll look at the child-care center and see what you think.”
A flutter of relief wound through her. Going to the church wouldn’t be easy. She hadn’t been able to go to church since Cam’s funeral. Having Ben with her would help. She wouldn’t have to go alone, but— “You have to work.”
“That’s one of the perks of owning the newspaper. I can take a lunch break whenever I want to.”
* * *
After checking out the day-care center the next morning and getting Joey and sleeping Robbie safely deposited for a short trial, Coop clasped Alyssa’s elbow and quickly escorted her out of the room before she could change her mind about leaving them. Wanting to show her around the church, he walked up the hall beside her, feeling more protective than ever because she’d entrusted him with her fears yesterday evening.
Her openness amazed and humbled him. He’d known she’d been through a lot over the past year, but he’d had no clue how much she’d suffered. He had only respect for her. Only respect, Coop? You sure that’s all you feel?
“Three teachers for thirteen children seems like a very good ratio,” she said. “I like that they use a video to hold the kids’ interest in storytelling, too. And what could be more perfect than a child-care guy who loves superheroes? He even knelt to Joey’s level to interact with him.”
“Any red flags?”
“I can’t think of any. Not with the center. Only with my comfort level in leaving them. I’m beginning to think I’m the one with separation anxiety.”
“We’re working on that.”
She smiled. “Yes, we are.”
He loved her smile; it made him feel like everything was okay. “We are now entering the Sunday school wing.” He gave her a quick tour. They peeked in the door of the nursery for rambunctious kids during church services and viewed the large fellowship room. Then he took her to his favorite part—the sanctuary.
Sun refracted rich colors through the stained-glass windows like a kaleidoscope, the empty sanctuary still and peaceful, yet filled with a sense of anticipation.
Alyssa glanced around at the vibrant colors and rich woods, but it was the large, wooden cross over the altar that caught her attention and held it. “It’s beautiful,” she said in a hushed voice.
He turned to her.
She stood there, looking up at the cross, her lovely face bathed in tears.
His throat felt thick. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought her here. Hadn’t she said she hadn’t been to church in a while? Hurting for her, he handed her his handkerchief.
She accepted it and dabbed at her tears. “I’m sorry. Whenever I think I’m moving past that awful time, something catches me by surprise and I’m right back there. His death. That horrible helpless feeling. That was the worst of all.”
“The last time you were in church was for your husband’s funeral?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry.” He grasped her hand and guided her down the aisle, stopping in the entry hall. “I brought you here too soon.”
“No, you’re helping me face my fears. That’s a good thing.”
“It’s been only a year, hasn’t it?”
“It will be...a couple days after Thanksgiving.”
A couple days— “The fund-raiser will be two days after Thanksgiving. Is that why you hesitated about planning it? Why didn’t you tell me? We’d all understand, Alyssa.”
“That’s not the reason I hesitated about the job. And I don’t want everybody’s understanding. I want to give back. And having a purpose that day will help.”
He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Spoken like a strong
woman.”
“Strong woman?” She threw him a questioning look.
“Absolutely.”
“I’m not strong. Far from it.”
She was stronger than she knew. But the pain in her voice touched him deeply, made him want to make everything better for her—everything.
He looked into her blue, blue eyes, an unfamiliar stillness filling him. Protecting her and her boys was only part of it. The other part...the exciting, terrifying part was that he wanted to take care of her with an intensity he’d never before experienced.
How could it be possible to have such strong feelings for her in a matter of days? No question in his mind, he wanted more than friendship with her.
When had that happened? Where was he planning on going with this? What about risking Hope? What about the fact that Alyssa was still grieving her husband? Not the best timing, Coop.
Is this Your doing, God? Did You bring this beautiful, amazing woman and her boys here to become an important part of our lives? Or is she here only to test my commitment to keep Hope safe?
How was he going to figure it all out? And just how much was he willing to risk to try?
* * *
Ben went back to the newspaper, and Alyssa worked through the practicalities of the job with Pastor Nick. Now, she followed the pastor down the hall to look at her office next door to his, her thoughts wandering back to Ben. He seemed to take in stride her reluctance to be in a church since Cam’s funeral. He’d actually called her strong for facing her fears. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel good about herself.
“The room’s small but adequate, I think.” Pastor Nick opened the door into a room filled with natural light pouring through the large window that looked out on snow-laden trees in the yard facing Main Street.
She scanned the partially filled bookshelves lining the wall behind the wonderful old, oak desk that dominated the space. “This is a pleasant little room,” she said sincerely.
He smiled. “Can you see yourself working here a few hours a week? Though I’m sure you can do most of the work at home near your children.”