Faith Hope and Love (A Homespun Romance)

by Kakade, Geeta

  As Helen did her eyes saying something about enhancing them, part of Rachel's mind wandered away to the summer she'd spent with Christina. The cousins had experimented every day with make-up and different hair styles. Aunt Mary had bought her a few basic items as a gift. When she'd returned home, her father had trashed the make-up and told her she was not to do herself up like a cheap tart while she lived under his roof. He'd put up with enough of that from her mother.

  It hadn't even hurt. Rachel had just retreated to the spot in her mind that had stored up every single moment of her wonderful summer. It was the one place her father could not follow.

  "There. That shade is perfect for you." With a start Rachel realized the luminous huge eyes expertly outlined, staring back at her from the round mirror on the counter were hers. Helen had used a soft coral lipstick on her lips. Color made them seem fuller, gave them a pout. "Here's some tissue. Blot your lips and then I'm going to go over them once more. I'm all done now. You look lovely." Standing back Helen looked at her a satisfied smile on her face. "Wish I could get this effect on all my clients. All I used was powder, blush, an eye pencil, some shadow and lipstick. You look like a million dollars. Don't you think so, sir?"

  Rachel almost fell off the stool. On the back burner of her mind she had entertained the thought of washing her face before she saw Luke. It was too late now. Raising her chin she faced him.

  Luke stood three feet away his glance raking her face. Slowly her eyes swiveled away from him to the mirror in front of her. Nervousness snaked up her spine. It was as if Helen had ripped her cover to shreds and revealed Rachel's true identity...the face that stared back was a woman's. Wanting, desiring, needing.

  "Let me see." Ignoring the make-up consultant, Luke put a finger under her chin, raising her face. He could tell Rae was doing her copper wire routine again. The apprehension she tried to mask was at the forefront of her eyes.

  "I was just going to w...wash my face."

  His eyes narrowed. This was what her fear was all about? That he might disapprove of her decision to have her face done? He bit back an expletive. The fact that he didn't think she needed cosmetics to improve her looks didn't matter. What mattered was that he had to convince her she had a right to spread her wings without being afraid.

  "Very nice." Deliberately he let his eyes skim her face again; making sure his voice was warm, bordering on wolfish. A thumb skimmed the edge of her bottom lip and he saw the delicate color return to her face. "You should use that color on your lips more often."

  Rachel looked at him. The intensity of his gaze as their eyes met was like an electric shock. Luke dismissed the blaze of gratitude he saw in Rachel's eyes. It wasn't what he wanted from her.

  "How much does all the stuff you've used cost?" Luke asked Helen over his shoulder. Buying it would let Rae know she could experiment to her heart's content.

  Rachel saw Helen's eyes widen before she quickly punched numbers into the cash register terminal and said hopefully, "A hundred and seventy five dollars, thirty two cents."

  "We'll take it."

  Stunned by Luke's reaction, Rachel couldn't think of a thing to say. He had looked at her as if...as if she was good enough to eat.

  Luke looked at her again, brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. "Chris told me once there is an excellent beauty salon here. Do you want to get your hair styled?"

  The make-up consultant opened her mouth to protest but Luke silenced her with a look. He couldn't bear the thought himself that Rae might want to cut it, have it styled in one of those frizzy, modern creations that reminded him of a bramble bush. He loved the way she was wearing it today. The loose knot with its escaping curls was the perfect frame for her cameo like features.

  Love didn't enforce though. Love understood, gave the other person room to grow, to change.

  "I don't think so, thanks."

  Rachel got off her stool and stood quietly by as Luke paid for the make-up. She would write him a check for it later; explain that if she'd wanted the cosmetics she would have bought them herself. Personally she didn’t want anything so expensive but there was no point in making a scene here.

  "Anything else you'd like to get here?"

  "No thanks," Rachel shook her head thanked Helen, who hadn't stopped smiling.

  "You have a nice day and a wonderful holiday," said the woman warmly.

  "Would you like to go up to the next level and look around?"

  Rachel hesitated and Luke said quickly, "You'd rather leave."

  She nodded, "I've had my fill of looking." She was more tired than she was after a few hours spent chasing Gordie. That was a pleasurable tiredness; this was just a weariness of spirit she couldn't explain. Impatience to be out of the mall surged up in her, mingled with the longing to go straight back to the Diamond Bar, but she forced herself to be polite. "But what about your shopping?" Luke only had a couple of small packages of his own.

  "I have everything I need. Let's go."

  They were at the hotel in fifteen minutes. Their rooms were on the third floor across from each other.

  "Shall we meet about six for dinner?" Luke opened the door to her room and stood aside.

  Rachel took in the opulent interior. This place must have cost the earth.

  "Six is fine," she said absently, wondering how she was going to repay Luke. Another blank check? She only hoped her bank account held enough.

  He set her packages down on a handy chair. She had suggested leaving all but one in the car, but Luke had carried everything upstairs saying she might like to look over her purchases and decide if there was anything else she needed.

  "See you in a little while then."

  Rachel explored her room and the adjoining bathroom curiously. It was all very very elegant. Like a child she looked at the room service menu and opened the drawers of the writing desk, picking up the fine writing paper and examining its texture.

  Looking up, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The strangeness of her own face startled her for a second, then she leaned closer, peering at her reflection. Assuming a model's hauteur, she struck a pose.

  Truth elbowed its way in. It wasn't any use. No makeover would change the way she was inside.

  Turning away, Rachel strolled to the window.

  As far as the eyes could see there were buildings and more buildings. Hemming her in. Making her face the truth. Resting her head against the window Rachel thought of the evening ahead.

  The tap on his door surprised Luke. Wiping the lather from his face with the towel draped around his neck he went to the door. He hadn't ordered anything from room service.

  "Rae. Is something wrong?' The sight of her through the peephole had startled him. The fact she had her arms wrapped around herself the way she had in court was definitely cause for alarm. "What is it?' Drawing her into the room Luke shut the door. "Aren't you feeling well?' He put a hand up to her forehead.

  Rachel moved back and shook her head. He saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed hard. Whatever it was, was costing her. Gently he brushed the hair back from her forehead. "What is it?' he asked again.

  "I...I know this is going to sound very silly but I w...want to ask you something."

  "Sure."

  Her tongue stole out to moisten her lips and she half turned away from him before she spoke, "Can we go back to the Diamond Bar?"

  "Now?"

  "Now." Her head was down. "I know I'm being an awful nuisance and I can't explain the way I feel but I want to go..."

  She stopped herself before the last word but Luke knew it was home. His muscles tightened with the longing to sweep her into his arms and tell her that that was what he wanted as well. All he said was, "Give me five minutes."

  "I'm sorry if I spoilt your one evening of relaxation," Rachel said hurriedly, "I'll write you a check for the cost of the hotel rooms."

  He must think her an immature spoilt brat. What kind of woman wouldn't like to be wined and dined in style? No culture. That ha
d to be it. She was sure the women in Luke's world reveled in this sort of thing.

  "I used to do this all the time. I don't crave this kind of entertainment anymore.” Luke made short work of the apology. "I just thought it would give you a chance to relax after being cooped up with Gordie all week...that you might enjoy an evening on the town."

  He had done it for her? His honesty had to be matched. "This is what makes me feel cooped up," she touched a hand to her face. He knew she meant the layers of cosmetics. Of so-called civilized trappings. "I feel as if I have to force myself to play a part I don't want to, be someone else and I can't do it."

  The hand that brought her chin up was firm and warm. The eyes that met hers blazed with something she couldn't define. "Don't apologize for being yourself, Rae. Very few people have the courage to be themselves. The urge to run with the pack, the need to do the 'in things', to be accepted, makes most people strangers to themselves. It took me a very long while to realize the only person I owed anything to was myself."

  She stood there, aching for the touch of Luke's mouth. In his stance too she sensed a waiting. If she made one move towards him...her gaze flickered to the bed, then away.

  Rachel found herself facing the door before she even felt his hands on her shoulders. Luke's voice was soft by her ear "The last one packed and ready has to do the dishes for a week."

  By the time he got on the freeway, the sun had set. Winter darkness, soft as the color of her eyes when she looked at Gordie, surrounded them.

  Luke's hands tightened on the wheel as he thought of the way she had summoned her courage to come to him. He fought the urge to yell at her that he was just another human being...as scared of her reactions as she was of his. But it was a reaching out...progress. He would have to be patient to win it all.

  There was so much he could offer her but none of it...not even his love would be any use if Rachel did not find herself first, realize what it was that she wanted out of life. He had heard of people swept off their feet into marriage, who woke up later to discover that they hadn't had time to think if what they were in, was what they wanted out of life. A mistake like that would cost more in the long run than expending a little patience now.

  She didn't know it but he had rung Waylon Smith from his room and been informed of her decision to return to Bangladesh already. Rehabilitation in the flood devastated areas, he had been told, would keep her in that country for close on two years and then she would be transferred to another area.

  He was taking an awful big risk with all this waiting. For a man who didn't believe in gambling, to leave the rest of his life to chance was very hard, but there was no viable alternative to letting her make her own choices.

  Switching on the overhead light, Luke looked at Rae and a smile softened his mouth. She’d fallen asleep the minute they’d gotten on the freeway, proving how tired she really was. He thought of the first time he’d driven her home. They had come a long way since that day in court and she had definitely benefited by her stay on the ranch.

  So had Gordie. He loved the way she carried him on her hip. Sometimes she held him monkey fashion to her chest as if she couldn't get enough of him. At others she sat cross legged with him on the floor, talking to him, reading to him. Luke knew Gordie sensed exactly how she felt about him. He had begun to look for her now and yesterday when they had both held out their arms to him he had chosen to go to Rae.

  It wasn't only Gordie. Hannah and Theresa were always singing her praises. Juan and Jason couldn't do enough for her. Mojo brought her wildflowers and took her riding. The Indian had cut his hair, came to work clean shaven these days, and kept out of trouble. At this rate he would be on the permanent payroll soon.

  There was so much for her here, but only Rachel could reach out for it. No one else could help her with this one decision.

  Looking at her once more he switched off the overhead light.

  She was like a flame. Small but steady. Holding her own against all odds. Giving everything, asking nothing. Flickering sometimes, but never going out. Her essential goodness provided the fuel that kept the flame burning. Luke wondered if ever a time would come when she would let him cup that flame. Not to diminish it's splendor in any way, just to protect it, so it could burn more brightly.

  The slamming of the car door woke Rachel.

  "Everything's fine," Luke was saying and Rachel could make out Hannah's outline in the doorway. "We just wanted to come home." Through sleep riddled eyes she saw Jason come out, say goodnight, and veer off towards the garages whistling.

  "If everything's fine I'm going back to bed." Hannah swept away, before Rachel could get out of the car.

  After a wash, she slipped along the corridor to Gordie's room. The impulse to lift him and hold him close was almost too much to resist. He looked like a little angel, asleep. Exquisite, peaceful, precious. If only she could make time stand still, keep Gordie at this baby stage a little longer, stay with him a few more days. Rachel wasn't aware of the big sigh that escaped her.

  "Let's go into the kitchen," Luke urged, close to Rachel's ear and she jumped. He trailed one strong finger down Gordie's cheek before he followed her out.

  They raided the refrigerator piling the coffee table in the family room with their bounty. Cream of broccoli soup, cold chicken, crusty bread, half a bowl of trifle. Food had never tasted so good. They talked in whispers not wanting to disturb Hannah.

  As Luke carried their dishes to the sink, Rachel gave in to an impulse. Crossing to the elaborate music system against the wall, she pressed a button and turned the dial till she found the right station. Dreamy music floated into the air.

  Sensing Luke come up behind her she turned into his arms. She couldn't see his face so she didn't know if he was surprised. He wrapped her in his warmth, held her close. The night receded as she laid her head on his shoulder.

  They danced well together, not changing their pace when the music switched to something fast and upbeat. He bent a little, rested his cheek against hers, the smoothness of his face reminding Rachel he had been shaving when she had knocked on the door of his room. She inhaled the splash of his aftershave, then burrowed her head in his shirtfront wanting more of Luke's own scent. Mentally she thanked the fellow worker who had insisted on teaching her to dance on their infrequent free evenings while Dr. Atwell listened to his records on an old gramophone that needed winding. At least she had one social grace.

  She thought of the day, how wonderful it was to be in Luke's company, his reaction to the makeover. He was so perfect. Rachel held her eyes wide open. If she blinked now the tears would fall, and it would be difficult explaining to Luke that she was crying because he was the nicest man she knew.

  Luke turned his lips into her hair. Content to be ensconced in the warmth of his arms, Rachel drifted on dreamily, aware they were creating moments she would never forget. The moon as if aware of the magnitude of the moment sailed majestically out from behind some clouds.

  `Lover's moon,' thought Rachel dreamily.

  Electrified by the unbidden scenes romping in her imagination, she realized she was picking up momentum like an avalanche. If she didn't stop now, she would never be able to. And there was always a morning after. Reaching rock bottom would mean being smashed to smithereens.

  Stepping away from Luke she looked up at him, infused casualness into her voice, "I'll always remember this."

  Luke stiffened. There it was again. The warning. Firm, direct, unchanging. Letting him know she had made her plans. That she was going to get on with them, no matter what. His shoulders bunched as tension crept up his spinal cord.

  "Have you made a decision?"

  He could sense rather than see her nod. "I'm booked on a flight out of LAX on the thirty first."

  Pain splintered in his chest, as the last sliver of hope fled. "I see."

  Their feet had stopped moving. They faced each other like boxers in a ring. The closeness of a few minutes ago might never have been.

  Ra
chel waited a while. When she realized Luke wasn't going to say anything she whispered, "I think I'll turn in now. Thank you for everything."

  As she slipped away, Luke turned and strode into the darkness.

  CHAPTER 10

  Gordie sat at the breakfast table, his face smeared with oatmeal, when Rachel entered the kitchen the next morning. She had started him feeding himself and he seemed to enjoy it.

  "Good morning."

  Aware of Luke leaning against the counter, mug in hand, she bent down and searched for a spot on Gordie's face that wasn't buried under oatmeal, to plop her kiss on. He held his spoon out to her, generously offering her a taste of the cereal.

  "No thanks," Rachel laughed, dodging the wavering, dripping, spoon. "I'll get my own."

  Taking bowls out of the cabinet, she set the table in the eating nook.

  Luke's silence after the brief good morning weighed heavily in the air. She had barely slept. Knowing what was for the best and doing it were two entirely different things. Rachel had tossed and turned, beset with uncertainties about going away, more terrified of staying on. Her cogitating mind repeatedly came up with and discarded alternate plans of action.

  She picked up the table mats and put them down. The sunshine gave her something to talk about.

  "Nice day isn't it?" Anything was better than this silence.

  Luke shrugged, "it's cold and windy outside."

  End of a great conversation. Aimlessly she opened a drawer and shut it.

  The clatter as the bowl fell made her jump. Rachel turned to Gordie in time to see his face crumple. Leaning over in his high chair he looked at the upended bowl of cereal on the floor. His face scrunched up, a sure sign tears were not far away. The noise had obviously startled him. Before either of them could say a word, he looked up and held his hands out to Rachel, "Mama!"

  Rachel stood rooted to the spot. Mama! Her brain absorbed the word, vibrated with its echoes. He must have picked up the word from David and Angela. They called Theresa that. But why apply it to her?