Blue Ridge Setup

by Kimberly Rae

  The minutes ticked by. He hammered. He measured and sawed. He hung the swing. Checked his watch. Sighed. Only an hour had passed. Were they taking her blood now?

  “You’re such a pansy,” he muttered to himself. Trying to keep from thinking about needles, he lifted his hammer and swung as hard as his muscles could. He imagined hammering out the weakness that kept him from feeling like a man, replacing it with reason and facts and strength.

  It was not working. Needles and blood still danced before his mind.

  Grunting, he hammered harder.

  Chapter Eight

  When Kayla pulled Aunt Lavender’s light purple vehicle into the driveway later that morning, the jalopy that was Ryan’s truck was still there.

  She listened. Hammering. She dropped her head into her hands and tried not to give in to tears.

  “God, where are You? Are You punishing me?”

  Grabbing the mound of papers from the passenger seat and stepping out onto the driveway, for a moment Kayla stood paralyzed by indecision. She did not want to go inside and face her aunt’s caring but intrusive questions.

  The moment her car door shut, the hammering stopped. Maybe Ryan was taking a lunch break, and she could sneak in via the side door and head straight for her room. She clasped the papers to her chest with one hand and gripped her bags of medication in the other. Walking around the house on the dirt path, the one that Ryan was soon to turn into a beautiful stone walkway, Kayla stared at her feet as she walked. Flowers lined the path, but their colors failed to cheer her. She had almost reached the door.

  “Hey! You’re back soon.” She looked up to see Ryan checking his watch. “That didn’t even take three hours.”

  The moment his eyes took in her own reddened ones, the open friendliness on his face changed to concern. “Is everything okay?” His gaze skimmed over her papers and prescription bags. “Did you get bad news?”

  She shifted the papers and tried to reach for the door handle. “It’s no big deal. I know you work with teenagers and are used to babying people, but you don’t need to baby me.”

  He was at her side, reaching a hand out to get the door for her, a kindness that was nearly her undoing. “You don’t baby teenagers. You baby, um, babies. Teens need more—”

  He dipped his head to look at her lowered face. “Sorry, you probably don’t care about whether your metaphor was accurate or not.”

  She lowered her eyes, not responding, but she saw him cringe as he opened the door, then shut it before she had the chance to go inside. “Look, I’m not good in a crisis. I never do well on spur-of-the moment kind of stuff.” His head dipped down even farther until she was forced to look at him. Something in his eyes and his stance made her think of a stray puppy. She smiled and he dropped his hand from the door and wrapped it around her elbow, leading her toward the newly-installed swing.

  “I may not be good at knowing the right thing to say, but I’m a good listener.” He motioned toward the swing. “Go ahead; it’s sturdy. The overhang is nailed in well.”

  Her smile was wry. “I know. I heard.”

  The friendly smile was back. “I’m sure you’d rather be telling your aunt about how the appointment went, but she’s napping, so —”

  “You were hammering while she’s napping?”

  He shrugged. “She told me not to stop unless you got home and needed someone to talk to.”

  Kayla abruptly stood. “So part of your assignment today is to play concerned big brother to me? No thank you.”

  “Look, I didn’t mean it that way. Sit down.”

  She did, slowly. He joined her and started swinging gently. “Nice swing, huh? Whatever your aunt’s intention, I was trying to let you know that I’m not shirking my work by stopping to talk with you. I have permission from my new, extremely unusual employer, to stop and hang out with you whenever I want.”

  Kayla rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, I know.” His smile this time was wide. He unconsciously started swinging faster. “She’s still definitely trying to set us up, and not being all that subtle about it either, but I really am curious how things went at the doctor, so why not tell me about it?”

  When Kayla swallowed, shook her head, and rose from the swing, he rose with her. “What? Did I say something?”

  She shook her head again, swallowed again, and almost smiled. “No, just… I feel stupid saying this, but all that swinging was making me really nauseated.”

  “Oh.” He looked at the swing like it had become a culprit. “Well, we could sit on it without swinging. Would that work?”

  “I think so.” She sat, and after considering for a moment, turned and curled her legs up on the swing and faced him. “It would be nice to talk to somebody who won’t panic.”

  Ryan held up two fingers. “I promise not to panic. Scout’s honor.”

  Her smile was short-lived. She handed him the pile of papers and started opening the bags of medication. “The doctor tested me for asthma there at his office. Your friend Cindy was right about that one. So they gave me samples of medication to take and prescriptions to order more.” She pulled out an inhaler. “And I’m supposed to use this whenever I start that not-being-able-to-breathe thing. It’s supposed to make it better or something.”

  He took the inhaler from her hand and looked it over. “Yeah, these are pretty common. Lots of people have asthma.” He handed it back and smiled. “So that’s it? That’s great.”

  Her eyes were down as she wadded up the bags, looked around for a place to throw them, then decided to just keep them in her lap. “No, that’s not it.” Her voice was a whisper. “And it’s not great.”

  She looked up to see Ryan’s eyebrows rise. “What else?”

  “Nothing for sure.” Again, she rose from the swing. The chains clanked. “I—I can’t talk about it right now.”

  Kayla searched around for some kind of an exit, anywhere away from this man now looking at her with sincere concern. Hiding inside her bedroom, waiting for a knock from Aunt Lavender, would only enhance this sudden feeling of claustrophobia. Down the hill, that would be out of sight of the house, the swing, and Ryan Cummings. She left both her papers and bags on the swing where Ryan still sat looking up at her, and made a beeline for the backyard behind them, following the trail through her aunt’s garden, around an aged, weather-beaten bench, and finally to the edge of the yard where it dropped off downward toward a small creek.

  Doing more slipping than walking, she descended the ten feet or so to the edge of the water. Finding a fallen tree, she sat and listened to the gentle music of the water trickling over and around rocks, fallen twigs, and leaves. The discordant sounds of footsteps crashing through the brush above interrupted her moment of escape. Ryan sat beside her without apology. “You know, if you follow this creek up the hill near this house, just around the top bend is a beautiful view of the mountains. I’d love to take you there. Sitting out in nature looking at the mountains will make anyone feel at peace.”

  She frowned. “Do you think I need to find some peace?”

  His eyes were on her and she scowled. “Look, it’s nice of you to play Mr. Pastor Man and try to fix my problems, but I’m not one of your teenagers, okay? And Aunt Lavender isn’t paying you to follow me around until I spill my guts.”

  At his silence, she darted a look his way. “Or is she?”

  Now he was the one looking away. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but do you really think I would stoop to something like that?”

  Instead of fire creeping across her face, it ran through her belly instead.

  “Besides.” A hint of teasing crept back into his voice. “I’m not only working with teens now. I’m an associate pastor, so I get to follow around older people too, who sometimes are just as stubborn and difficult to help as the kids in the youth group.”

  She stood, kicking a twig into the water. “Why don’t you go back to hammering something?”

  He stood and faced her. “Why don’t yo
u just tell me what’s bothering you so much? Would it hurt to say it?”

  “Yes!” She sat again and picked up a long, thin branch. She started breaking off small pieces and throwing them into the water. “It hurts to even think about it. It hurts to imagine how my dad is going to feel when Aunt Lavender calls him and tells him. I know she’s been calling him and updating him about me — not that he asked her to.”

  “Wait, Kayla, what’s—” He stopped talking, gently grasped her arm, and took the branch from her hands. She began wringing her hands together, so he wrapped his hands around hers until they stopped. “Your dad. Your appointment. Please just tell me.”

  His hands around hers were strong. Large. Protective. Had her father ever stopped his never-ending work to touch her like this and ask her to open her heart?

  Should she tell Ryan? He was practically a stranger. Then again, a stranger might be just the right person to tell. No expectations. No promises. No disappointments.

  She opened her mouth, knowing that with just one word, the whole story would have to follow.

  Chapter Nine

  “Cancer.” The word was spoken hushed, and Kayla felt Ryan’s hands tighten on hers. She looked up and saw his jaw tighten, too. “I don’t know that I have it, but that’s one of the things they are testing me for.” She almost smiled as his face visibly relaxed. “You wouldn’t believe how much blood they took — twelve vials.”

  She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  “I’ve been healthy all my life and now they’re after me like vampires, and I’ve got more stuff like MRIs scheduled now, too. Basically, after my list of twenty-seven symptoms, the doctor decided to test me for just about every disease known to man — or rather woman.”

  “Like what?” Ryan had released her hands and ran his own down the thighs of his jeans. Was he nervous and wiping damp palms, or was he afraid now that he had touched her, he might catch something?

  “Well, all the asthma stuff was pretty easy to figure out of course, but there’s also—”

  His hand was on hers again. He must not be afraid of her being contagious.

  “I’m sorry,” he interrupted. “I get caught up in the details sometimes. Cindy is always telling me to look at the big picture.” He angled himself on the tree so he could face her better. “Tell me about your dad, and why you seem so afraid of him.”

  She was the first to look away. “Not afraid. Just… disappointed. Him being disappointed in me, that is.”

  Ryan’s hand squeezed hers. “How in the world could he be disappointed in you?”

  She smiled in appreciation of his comment, then looked back at the water. “He really wanted a son to follow him in the ministry. You have to understand, my dad is a workaholic, big time, but since it’s ‘God’s work,’ somehow everybody thinks that’s okay. So it was supposed to be okay when he missed my birthday parties, or we’d cut family vacations short, or he couldn’t make the time when mom started...”

  Kayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “My mom got cancer, and when he found out, my dad just couldn’t accept it. He kept preaching about God healing and fixing it, and if she’d just have enough faith…”

  Tears slipped out. Ryan now had both hands wrapped again around her clasped ones.

  “I could tell he cared. I know he loved her. But since he couldn’t accept the idea that God would not remove the cancer, he threw himself even more into ministry — the kinds of things that worked and were successful — and mom got sicker and sicker. She went through the chemo and the radiation without him. He would keep checking with the doctors, getting more angry with them when they never had good news to tell. Finally, he stopped talking about it at all.”

  Kayla felt a tear slip from each eye, drift down her cheeks, and fall to land like two reacquainted friends on Ryan’s calloused hands. “Not long after that, she died. Alone.”

  One hand left hers and reached up to lift her chin until she was facing him. “She wasn’t alone, was she? I have a feeling you were there every step of the way, weren’t you?”

  Silently, Kayla nodded.

  “I know that must have meant a great deal to her.”

  Kayla clenched her eyes shut, but tears still slipped through. “After she died, Dad just could not accept that God did not give the great victory he had asked for. He would not even use the world ‘died.’ He always said ‘left,’ as if she abandoned us on purpose. It’s like he was mad at her for not being strong enough. Or maybe for leaving him with a daughter he didn’t want to be responsible for. He threw himself into work. He was never home. It was like I didn’t exist.”

  Lifting her face, she then looked Ryan in the eye. “The first time he started noticing me and acting like I was part of his family again was when I joined the mission and committed to a two-year term, with the intention of staying full-term if it worked out.”

  Ryan removed his hands, shifting until he was again facing the water. He leaned his elbows down on his knees. “Oh, Kayla.” His voice was filled with regret, but she could not decipher it. Regret for what?

  “My dad’s church paid my full support for the trip. They were so proud. And Daddy finally had the child he’d always wanted — one following in his footsteps. One he could be proud of. Can you imagine how I feel being here, using up money they had given for me to do something important, something that mattered, on doctor’s visits and stupid tests? Can you imagine how it felt to have to tell him they were sending me back? That life on the mission field was too much for me? That I wasn’t strong enough?”

  She stood, arms folded, staring into the cheerful brook. “And what if it is cancer? I know what will happen. My dad will disappear, and since I don’t have a daughter who cannot bear to see me endure without help, I’ll go through it alone. I’ll die alone, while my father ministers to others.”

  ****

  Ryan stood. His hands reached out to her, then at the last moment fell back to his sides.

  Her eyes shot through him. “If I am dying, I would rather have lived out my days in Pakistan, loving those children and making a difference, and dying with my father proud of me. Instead I’m here — a failure, a complete disappointment to my father and my church, and probably God, too.”

  Something like a small groan preceded Ryan’s arms reaching out again. This time he did not pull them back, but wrapped them around Kayla, not letting go when she tried weakly to pull away. Her fists clenched against his chest, but then she let her head fall forward onto his shoulder.

  “Kayla.” His voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. “It’s not your fault. It was stupid of me to blame it on you when I was really hating myself.”

  He held her back from him to look into her face. “Kayla, it is not your fault that you’re sick. It wouldn’t even be your fault if you have cancer. And it’s not your fault that your dad couldn’t or wouldn’t act Biblically.”

  “Biblically?” She straightened. “What do you mean? He’s a pastor!”

  Ryan smiled down at her. “Being in the ministry doesn’t make you any less human.” He shrugged. “Just look at me.”

  When she almost smiled, he relaxed his hold, locking his hands around her waist. “Kayla, I once heard a quote that said, ‘Even the best of men are men at best.’ We all have weaknesses and faults and even sins. Your dad is no exception. And you are not responsible for him, or for what happened with your mom, or for the fact that you are sick now.”

  She looked up, her eyes wide. “But what if I am?” Her whisper was so serious, so intense, he stopped shaking his head in automatic response. “What if what’s happening now is my fault — because of something I did before, and—”

  Her eyes widened even more as she realized what she had just said. Within seconds, she had backed out of the comfort of his embrace and was attempting a quick climb up the hill back toward the house.

  “Wait! Kayla! What were you g
oing to say?”

  She stopped, looking down to where he stood.

  “Kayla! Mr. Cummings!”

  Ryan jumped at Laverne Bloom’s voice.

  “I hope you are together somewhere,” he heard her call out.

  A chagrined smile transformed Kayla’s tear-stained face. Ryan’s grin in response was tender. He winked. “Maybe I should put my arm around you when we walk out of the woods into the yard. You know it would make her day.”

  Kayla laughed, surprising herself.

  “I hear you back there, Kayla. Come and have some lunch. I made my special creamed-corn cornbread.”

  Ryan was now at her side. “You didn’t answer my question. Why would you think being sick now could be your fault?”

  She linked her arm through his, aside from the slightly red eyes, looking as if she had no care in the world. “Aunt Lavender is waiting for us.” She began pulling him forward. “Besides,” she said. “You can’t learn all my secrets in one day.”

  Ryan muttered something under his breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.” He released her arm. “Your aunt is already giddy with happiness at seeing us appear arm-in-arm. You go on ahead. I’ll be right there.”

  She glanced back once, a question in her eyes, but then shrugged and went on ahead toward the house.

  Ryan watched her walk away. The moment she was out of earshot, he spoke, his voice low and full of determination. “Kayla Madison, today, or tomorrow, or if it takes forever, I fully intend to learn every secret you have.”

  Chapter Ten

  “She was here? No way!” Jainey threw her hands up with dramatic flourish. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”