And that’s what had gotten him into trouble. Those perfect, soft lips of hers had just begged for comfort. Her reaction to the kiss, innocent and trusting, had almost been his undoing.
It was the trusting that had gotten him. She thought she knew him, thought she could trust him, but she didn’t know about his past. Didn’t know he’d committed crimes, served time in jail. And all those things paled in comparison to the one thing he could never forget. The one thing he could never excuse or forgive.
He pulled into Higher Grounds’s parking lot, relieved that Hanna’s 4×4 was gone. In his room the message light blinked on the phone, and he punched in the number and listened to Pastor Witte request a return phone call. He memorized the number, hung up, then redialed. Pastor Witte answered the phone on the second ring and thanked Micah for returning his call.
“Micah, I’m sure you’re aware that William Zimmerman asked to be removed as a deacon several weeks ago, and that last Sunday our church body voted on a replacement.”
“Yes sir, I remember.” He’d voted himself, but couldn’t imagine why Pastor Witte was calling him.
“Well, the fact is, the church voted for you to take his place, and …”
Pastor Witte continued on, but Micah lost the capacity to listen. They’d voted for him? There had to be some mistake.
“So, what do you think?”
“Uh, Pastor Witte, I don’t see—”
“You’re probably a bit surprised since you’re single, but, although all our current deacons are married, I don’t think there’s any reason biblically or doctrinally why an unmarried man can’t accept the position.”
He went on to list the roles of deacons in the church, a leader, a servant, but Micah’s inner voice seemed louder than his pastor’s. You’re not worthy to be a deacon. They wouldn’t want you if they knew the truth about you. But Pastor Witte knew; he’d told him when he’d joined the church.
“… respect you a lot, young man.”
His pause seemed to require a response. “Uh, thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ll want some time to think and pray about this important decision.”
“Yes sir.”
They said good-bye, and Micah hung up, his thoughts a dark jumble of recriminations. It wasn’t his crimes and jail time that nipped at his conscience. He’d made them right eventually, serving time for most of them, and even going as far as to repay those he’d stolen from. His conscience was clear when it came to that.
But there was one crime he’d never paid for. His gut tightened with remorse.
Micah expelled a heavy breath and got up to find something to eat. The gurgling in his stomach had given way to shaky hands, and if he didn’t eat something soon, he’d turn into a major grouch. The clock told him it was time for dinner, so he slipped out the door and headed to the dining room.
When he reached the lobby, he heard voices and knew dinner was under way. He stopped short by the vending machines when he heard Hanna’s voice. So much for dinner. He eyed the machines with distaste but dug around in his pockets for change.
He slid quarters into the machine, cringing at the clinking sound they made, and selected a granola bar and a bag of pretzels. The packages hit the vending machine bay in two distinct thuds. He eyed the two bags and knew it wouldn’t be enough. After fishing a dollar from his wallet, he selected a bag of peanuts. He was trying to decide between sodas when he heard Hanna’s voice float through the door.
“I’m getting worried. She’s always home for dinner.”
“Did she say anything about running other errands?” Mrs. Eddlestein asked.
“No, just the post office. Can you stay for a while and watch the lodge while I go look for her?” The squeak of a chair suggested she was getting up from the table.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Hanna. My grandkids are in a camp program tonight, and I promised I’d come.”
Micah slid a quarter into the slot and froze when Hanna came through the door.
“Micah. There’s food in there if you’re hungry.” She gestured toward the dining room.
Worry still lingered in her gaze, and he put in the other coins to avert his attention. “Just wanted a snack.”
She surveyed the pile of snacks cradled in his arm and quirked a brow. He felt heat creep into his face and decided it was a good time for a change in subject.
“Is your grandma late?” He removed his Mountain Dew from behind the machine’s flap.
“She’s been gone for two hours, and I’m getting worried.”
With the way the woman forgot and became confused, it was no wonder Hanna was fretful. And she was always here for dinner. Micah felt the stirrings of concern in his own stomach. What if she’d gotten lost, didn’t know where she was? Didn’t people with Alzheimer’s lose their way?
“Could you watch the lodge for a while?” Her forehead wrinkled, her eyes pleaded.
“Hanna, I don’t know much about taking reservations or anything—how about I go look for her instead?”
Relief flooded her features. “Would you?” She touched his arm, and his skin tingled uncomfortably.
“Sure.” He pulled away. “Just let me drop this stuff in my room.” He escaped down the hall, dumped the food on his bed, then came back to the lobby. Hanna told him her grandmother had gone to the post office and gave him a couple of ideas of other places she could’ve gone.
Micah left, hopping aboard his cycle with uneasiness as his companion. She’s probably just lost, wandering around somewhere. As much as he liked to be a loner, it had been impossible to avoid getting attached to Mrs. Landin. People didn’t come any gentler or more tender-hearted than she. Hanna was lucky to have a grandma like that. He’d always wanted one himself.
After he checked the post office, which was now closed, he stopped by the grocery, hair salon, and church. The 4×4 was nowhere to be seen in any of the parking lots, so Micah drove through town looking left and right. Jackson wasn’t that big and didn’t take long to cover. Where could she be? After searching a few side streets, he called the lodge from his cell phone, hoping she’d found her way home by now.
He heard the disappointment in Hanna’s voice when he told her he’d seen no sign of her grandmother and would keep looking. Darkness was settling around town, making massive silhouettes of the buttes.
He flipped on his headlight and toured the main roads of Jackson once more. The vehicle seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Turning north, he decided to check some streets off the main route. He drove down several streets a few blocks, then turned around and headed back to the main drag.
Hanna must be worried sick by now; he certainly was. Had the woman gotten lost? Been abducted? Had a heart attack?
The hospital. He turned the cycle around and headed toward Saint John Hospital. Maybe she’d had chest pains and driven herself there. Surely she’d have called home, though.
When he arrived, he drove down the rows of cars looking for the red 4×4. He huffed in frustration when the last row turned up nothing. Now what?
He called the lodge again to find a panicked Hanna wanting to call the police. He persuaded her to wait another hour and took off on his cycle once again. He drove away from town, not knowing what she’d be doing on the roads but knowing he was desperate.
As he rounded a bend, his headlights lit on a red vehicle pulled to the shoulder of the road. His breath caught. It was Hanna’s. Thank You, God.
He pulled up behind her, leaving his headlight on, and walked to the drivers-side door. The car was running, and from a distance he could see Mrs. Landin slumped over the steering wheel. He rushed the remaining few feet.
The windows were up, so he pounded on the window. “Mrs. Landin!”
Her body flew upright, and fright covered her face as she cowered away from the door.
“It’s Micah! Open up.”
She fumbled with the buttons, and finally the window slid down. “Oh, Micah, I’m so glad to see you!” Relief etched i
tself in the lines of her face that was damp with tears. Her hair had come loose from her tidy bun and hung in strings around her face.
“Are you okay?” He leaned in through the window and opened the door.
“I am now. I was so frightened!” Tears coursed again down her cheeks from eyes that begged for comfort.
“What happened?” He awkwardly put an arm along the back of the seat.
She turned into him and clung to his T-shirt. “I couldn’t find my way! I got in the car after I left the post office and started driving, and I was suddenly lost. Nothing looked familiar, so I just kept driving, thinking I’d find my way, but I couldn’t. Oh, Micah, what’s wrong with me?” She cried on his shoulder. “I was so scared.”
“It’s going to be all right.” He patted her arm. Comforting was not his forte. Hanna should be here. She’d know just what to say. But the elderly woman didn’t appear to need words of comfort, just his presence.
He let her cry for a few minutes, then fished in the console and pulled out a crumpled McDonald’s napkin. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“Let’s get you back home. I’ll call Hanna and let her know you’re okay. She’s awful worried.”
“I knew she would be.”
“Are you okay to drive? I can just leave my cycle here if—”
“No. No, I’ll be fine, just let me follow you.” Her eyes teared up again, but she straightened her shoulders as if to convince them both she was capable.
Hanna paced the floor of the lodge, peeking through the sheers every few minutes. Where was she? There was no answer at her parents’ house. She’d already called all of Gram’s friends, and none of them had heard from her today. Keep her safe, Father.
She stopped by the window and pulled back the drapes. Darkness had fallen in the valley like a black, velvet cloak, and only the light in the parking lot lit up the night sky. She’d seen few headlights approach, and all of them had gone past the lodge. Was she lost? Hurt? She would’ve called by now if she could’ve; Hanna knew that much. She glanced at her watch. It had been forty-five minutes since Micah’s last call.
Added to all this stress was the phone call she’d received from Gram’s doctor’s office earlier. All the questioning and testing he’d conducted pointed to Alzheimer’s. She hadn’t told Gram yet; she was waiting for the right time. The doctor suggested the tests be repeated by a neurologist and had recommended one. If this was Alzheimer’s, tonight was just the beginning of a long, scary trip into complete senility.
The phone shattered the silence, and she grabbed it as though it were a lifeline, without even saying hello. “Micah? Did you find her?”
A great weight lifted when she heard his voice, and her body sagged. Thank You, God, she prayed, as she hung up and went to the window to wait. Headlights finally shimmered in the distance, and she was unable to stop the rapid pulsations of her heart. Please, let it be Gram. It seemed to take an eternity for the headlights to draw near. They disappeared momentarily, blocked by trees, and her heart faltered until they shone again in the distance.
She cupped her hands against the window. Was that three lights she saw? They grew nearer, and she saw that it was indeed three lights, with one ahead of the other two, and she knew it was Micah leading Gram home. They approached the lodge, and Hanna exhaled a heavy sigh when the vehicles pulled into the parking lot. She opened the door and walked along the porch, then saw Gram, followed by Micah, walking up the dim incline to the lodge.
“Gram, are you okay?” She reached out a hand to help her up the steps.
“Oh, I’m fine. I just got a little turned around.” Her voice sounded strong.
But even in the dim porch light, Hanna thought she saw the evidence of tears. And her hair was in disarray. She sent Micah a questioning glance but received only a shrug in answer.
She took Gram’s arm and led her to the door. “Let’s get you inside and fix you some—”
“Now, don’t fuss, child. I haven’t forgotten how to feed myself.” Gram patted her hand, then slipped through the screen door. “I can still smell that pot roast …” Her voice faded as the door fell shut.
Micah pulled the handle, and she stopped him with a hand on his arm. The porch light cast a silver glow over his features.
“Is she really okay? What happened?”
His hand fell from the handle. “I found her on Spring Gulch Road, pulled to the side. She’d lost her way, like she said.”
“But how? She’s lived here all her life. How could she get lost?” She knew the answer but didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that Gram was losing her faculties.
Micah shook his head.
“What condition was she in when you found her? Was she worried, afraid?”
“Both, I suppose.” His voice rumbled softly in the night air. “She was crying. I took a few minutes to calm her down before driving back.”
A lump formed in her throat. What if Micah hadn’t found her? What if she’d been lost all night? Anything could’ve happened to her. She met Micah’s gaze briefly before he looked away. What an enigma, this man. Strong, harsh even, but gentle enough to console an old woman when she wept in fear. He could say anything he liked, but his actions were proof of the man he was.
Her hand reached up to cradle his jaw. It was rough with stubble and tightened at her touch. She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. The kiss landed on the soft corner of his lips. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t move, not a muscle, but she sensed the tightening of his body, saw the desire in his expression. What was she feeling, this pleasant emotion burning deep within her? It was more than attraction, more than … anything she’d ever felt. Love’s tender sprouts were taking root in her heart, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.
She felt the heat from his body, only inches away. Why couldn’t he take her in his arms? Why couldn’t he kiss her like he did before? He wanted to. She could see it in his eyes. But she could also detect the iron will that held him back. The same will that had kept him distant, that had stopped their kiss before.
She sighed and broke eye contact, slipping through the door, brushing close to him purposely. He could fight it all he wanted, but she didn’t have to make it easy for him.
Gram was coming through the swinging doors of the kitchen with a plate of food when Hanna entered the dining room. She took a deep breath and sat across from Gram. Hanna’s emotions had been all over the board tonight from anxiety and fear to gratitude and passion.
But now only Gram mattered.
The woman bowed her head in silent prayer. She seemed smaller than she used to be. Had she lost weight? Her disheveled hair and puffy eyes were the only remnants of what must have been an evening fraught with worry and fear.
At last, Gram dug into her mashed potatoes, and Hanna wondered how to break the news she’d gotten earlier. Gram was no dummy. When she heard she needed to see a specialist, she’d put two and two together.
“Don’t worry so, dear. I’m fine. Really.”
Hanna’s lips slanted in a smile. Tonight’s fiasco had proved one thing. Gram could no longer drive anywhere alone, Alzheimer’s or not. It just wasn’t safe. But how could she convince her? Gram, who’d taken over the lodge fearlessly upon her husband’s death. Gram, who prided herself in independence and courage. She might be angry with Hanna for suggesting it, and she might even refuse to comply. But Hanna had to try.
“You really had me worried tonight.”
“I’m sorry, I know you must’ve been.”
“I think … I think maybe it would be best if you took me or Mrs. Eddlestein with you when you run errands.” Her heart beat out a frantic staccato. “At least for a while.”
Gram calmly set her milk glass on the table. “Maybe you’re right.”
Hanna blinked.
“Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one who was worried tonight.” Gram placed her wrinkled hand over Hanna’s. “You’ve no id
ea how terrifying it is to be out somewhere and realize you have no clue where you are. To not recognize anything even though you know you’ve been there hundreds of times. To know everything should be familiar, but nothing is familiar. Believe me, I have no desire to go through that again.”
Hanna breathed a sigh of relief as Gram squeezed her hand and continued eating. She’d handled that better than Hanna had expected, but the next news was even worse. How could she soften the information so as not to alarm Gram? Maybe if she handled it matter-of-factly, like it was no big deal.
“Your doctor’s office called today. They suggested more testing and gave you a referral to another doctor. I went ahead and made an appointment for you.”
Gram’s loaded fork made a slow descent to her plate. The frown between her brows spoke of keen understanding. “So,” she said, “the testing Doc did is pointing to Alzheimer’s.” She settled back against the wooden slats of the high-back chair.
“Well, he thought a neurologist might be better suited to conduct the …” Her voice trailed off as Gram shook her head.
“You don’t have to beat around the bush, child. I’ve gotten pretty good at getting around on the Internet. I’ve been conducting my own investigation, and I know what this referral to a neurologist means.”
Sadness bubbled up in Hanna’s heart. How would it feel to be going senile and to know it would get worse until she was totally dependent on others for even the simplest tasks.
“Don’t look so glum, Hanna. I’ve been walking with the Lord for sixty years, and He’s not let me down yet. If I do have that dreaded disease, He’ll be with me—with us—all the way through, giving us the strength we need to cope.”
Gram’s faith blew Hanna away. She was one of the few whose life was a living testimony to Christ’s faithfulness. “There’s still a chance you don’t have Alzheimer’s at all.”
“And even if I do, it takes years for the illness to progress.” Her eyes lit mischievously, and she winked at Hanna. “I have plenty of time to give everyone around me a hard time.”
Mending Places Page 16