Rekindling Trust

by Sandra Ardoin

  Verbenia nodded, though she still regarded Edythe with undue interest. “Would you like one of us to go with you? Perhaps Roslyn would care to see firsthand the type of work we do.”

  Not one for idle conversation with a stranger, Edythe shrank from the idea of traveling to the sanitarium and back with someone she hardly knew. Neither could she allow her timidity to deny Roslyn an opportunity to take part in their endeavor. She shifted on her chair to address their new member. “I’d planned to drive out there Tuesday morning.”

  Roslyn shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I can’t that day. I have my work at the store, and I’m sure it will be busy. Newland’s begins a sale this week and people come from miles around for the bargains.”

  Edythe breathed easier. “Perhaps another time.”

  “Now that our business is over, let’s carry on with our study.” Verbenia turned to Jenny. “I believe it’s your turn, dear.”

  Jenny stood and opened her Bible. This was the portion of their time together Edythe preferred to miss. Not that she minded the reading of scripture. However, the ladies rotated sharing a short passage that had meaning to them—one they would then discuss. Every eighth Sunday was Edythe’s turn.

  She dreaded her Sundays. Speaking before others was hard enough for her, but choosing scripture of special meaning when she lacked the insight expected by the others... That made her responsibility doubly difficult.

  Jenny read with gusto from Romans 8. “‘For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God...’”

  Children of God. Abba, Father. Am I your child, God? Why don’t I feel like it?

  After their discussion, they filed into the dining room for cookies, apple pie, and coffee. Edythe nibbled on a sugar cookie while listening to the conversations around her and responding when necessary. How she’d come to love these women—Louisa, Mavis, Ruby, Jenny, Lucy, and, of course, Verbenia. At the same time, she missed Phoebe’s quiet self-assurance and Claire’s sense of humor.

  She slid a glance at Roslyn, who chatted with Mavis and Lucy as though she’d known them a lifetime. Evidently not one to meet a stranger, Roslyn would fit well into their circle. But what if her husband returned? Perhaps, in some ways, knowing the fate of a husband made life easier, even if he no longer resided on this earth.

  Lamar would never return, but Barrett had. He had returned and set her world spinning topsy-turvy.

  She carried her empty plate, cup, and saucer to the kitchen sink. Verbenia followed and set her plate on the counter. “Are you all right?”

  Edythe turned to look into her mentor’s face. “Yes. Why do ask?”

  “You went a little pale when Jenny read her choice in passages. I offered to be a sounding board should you need one. That offer remains open.”

  Verbenia took her responsibility for her younger charges seriously, providing guidance and help where needed. It was her mission, her purpose.

  “You know, if you’d prefer not to discuss it with me, Edythe, keep in mind you have a heavenly Father who encourages you to tell Him of your concerns. He’ll always listen.”

  “Really? It’s my experience that fathers rarely listen to or care for their children’s concerns and wishes.” Edythe looked away. How dare she speak that way. Verbenia must think her a heathen. Sometimes, she wished she were, then guilt over her attitude wouldn’t cling to her like a shadow. She wouldn’t expect a lightning bolt to strike her dead at any time. “I’m sorry for my outburst.”

  A small smile tilted Verbenia’s lips. “We are all permitted one on occasion.”

  “But God—”

  “But God...two of the most encouraging words in the Bible.” Verbenia rested a hand on Edythe’s arm. “He knows your heart. He knows you speak from whatever hurt you’ve experienced, and He’s big and strong enough to let you beat on His chest now and then. I can tell you He’s taken plenty of my blows over the years.”

  “And afterwards?” What consequences had rained down upon Verbenia?

  “Afterwards, I ask forgiveness for my doubts and fears and rest in the knowledge that ‘all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.’” Verbenia quoted one of the verses read by Jenny.

  Edythe quoted another. “‘If God be for us, who can be against us?’”

  “So true.”

  If only she had the faith that God considered her one of His children. “That’s my problem, Verbenia. I don’t always believe God is for me, that He works for my good rather than working against me.” Once she started her confession, Edythe couldn’t seem to stop. “How can I believe He cares for me when I think He only wants to exert power over me, to show me I’m nothing without Him?”

  “We are nothing without Him, my dear. With Him we become more than we ever imagined ourselves being.” Verbenia frowned. “Forgive my boldness, but are you sure you’re not confusing God’s judgment with man’s?”

  A bitter chuckle escaped. “You mean they’re not one and the same?”

  “God’s judgment is righteous. His discipline is meant to bring His people back to Him, not drive them away or punish them for pleasure.” Verbenia laid a hand on Edythe’s arm. “Sometimes, we can’t understand someone until we’ve taken the time to get to know him. There’s a difference between knowing about God and being one of His children. Perhaps, before you accuse the Father of being what He is not, you need to develop a closer relationship with Him. The way to do that is through the Son.”

  “But I...” Had she ever truly sought to know Jesus, or had she only assumed she knew Him because she’d attended church her whole life? When was the last time she read—intently studied—the Bible that sat on her bedroom dresser? What did she know of God in the deepest part of her, other than the character she had assigned Him?

  Edythe swallowed the lump that clogged her throat, leaned over, and wrapped Verbenia in a hug. “Thank you.”

  Verbenia clung to her and whispered in her ear, “I love every one of you dear ladies like you were my own children, and I’ll always be here for you.”

  She would always be there for Edythe and the others...like a loving mother. The type of mother Edythe had never known.

  If she truly sought to understand Him, would she find that God was the type of father she’d never known?

  THE TIP OF BARRETT’S pencil broke. When he reached into the desk drawer for another one, his fingers brushed the small jeweler’s box Edy had given him. He hadn’t wanted her mother’s ring and should have kept it in a safer place for her.

  He pulled out the box and set it on top of the papers that littered his desk. Though Barrett didn’t approve of the apparent circumstances, he understood why the judge’s wife left her husband. If only Edy could find a way to leave her father.

  Lifting the lid revealed the exquisite and valuable ring that had belonged to Mary Ellen Danby. Merely looking at it brought back the overheard argument between Edy and her father. The judge had lorded over her the fact that she had nowhere else to go.

  Nothing prevented Barrett from returning the ring to her, from encouraging her to use it to provide for her children. Nothing but the fact that each time he saw Edy, he slipped further into those feelings he’d had for her years ago.

  He’d thought the passing of time and his bitterness over their parting had destroyed this longing to be with her. Before returning to Riverport, he’d deemed his previous love for her unsalvageable. But in being here, seeing her, time rewound and the bitterness dissolved like sugar in warm water.

  Barrett closed the box and tossed it in the air. It landed on his palm, and he sealed it in his fist. Was sentimentality more important than freedom? His wounded pride more vital than the emotional welfare of three children?

  Chapter Ninetee
n

  After knocking on the front door of the Danby house, Barrett waited until Edy opened the door, ready to take on her father if necessary. When she didn’t glance over her shoulder or whisper for him to go away, he deduced the judge wasn’t home.

  “What are you doing here, Barrett?”

  “Is that any way to greet your attorney?”

  “You’re Andrew’s attorney.”

  She’d grown more guarded toward him since the day she shared his breakfast and he’d made the mistake of nearly kissing her. Or had his mistake come in backing away?

  He’d fought daily to safeguard his heart since returning to Riverport, but with the way it pummeled his chest right now, it was a lost cause.

  “I came to return this.” He took her hand with its long, graceful fingers, turned it over, and laid the box on the flat of her palm.

  She eyed the jeweler’s box as if expecting it to bite. “You’re returning the ring? You said you’d help my son.”

  “And I will.”

  “Then why?”

  “You said it yourself, I’m Andy’s attorney. Since he has no money of his own, my services must be provided pro bono publico.”

  She stared at the box again. “My father thinks a lawyer who provides his services without charge has more money than sense.”

  Barrett laughed. “And with that nonsensical thinking, I know I’m in the right. I told you before, there’s not much I can do for Andy as an attorney. But I can help him as a friend.”

  Her tiny smile provided a bit of relief to his churning gut.

  “Maybe you can use that for a new start, somewhere to live other than this house.”

  “Weren’t you the one who said I should keep the ring out of sentimentality?”

  “Sentiment only takes a person so far. Sometimes, events call for practicality.”

  She appeared to deliberate a moment, then wrapped those long, slender fingers around the box, one at a time. “Thank you.”

  A boy of about sixteen sailed past them on a bicycle, the bell on the handlebars trilling. Barrett laughed when the boy let go of the handlebars but continued to glide down the street. “Look at him. He’s having fun.”

  “Lamar owned a bicycle.”

  The reminder of Westin pained him like a sore that never healed.

  “He taught me to ride it.”

  “Edythe Westin riding a bicycle. That must have been something to see.” Barrett tried to picture her rolling along, the wind in her smiling face. Carefree and...simply free.

  She laughed. “I’ll have you know I was a natural.”

  “Bloomers and all?”

  “I wasn’t that devoted.” She stuffed the jewelers’ box in the small pocket in her skirt. “I have a little money saved to pay you. It won’t be much, but...”

  Back to business. “I’ll agree to take payment in a different way.” Barrett paused to second guess what he was about to say when he had no right even thinking it.

  Suspicion narrowed her eyes. “A different way?”

  He clasped her elbow in an attempt to lead her down the walkway to the street. “I’ll show you. Let’s go.”

  “Go? Where?” Her heels dug into the brick, and she lifted her regal chin. “Where are you taking me this time, Barrett?”

  “Mr. McMullin’s livery.”

  “A livery? That still doesn’t tell me where we’re going.”

  “Wherever we want, Edy.” When she continued to look at him with those cow eyes, he grinned. “The man rents bicycles.”

  “You want to ride a bicycle?”

  “I do. There’s only one problem.”

  She studied him and her lips stretched into a smile. “You don’t know how to ride a bicycle.”

  He shrugged. “I need an expert to teach me, and I’ve recently learned of one.”

  BARRETT ROLLED THE bicycle away from the livery, walking on one side of it while Edy kept pace on the other side. It was true that he’d never ridden one of the contraptions, but he didn’t need her to teach him. Surely, it wasn’t that hard...mainly a matter of balance.

  His imagination jumped ahead, showing him a picture of them together, both pedaling down the road on a long, leisurely ride in the country.

  Not today.

  Today, she had refused his offer to rent a second bicycle for her, saying this was his lesson, and she wasn’t dressed for riding, anyway. Before hauling her away from her home, he should have suggested she change into something less formal than the day dress she wore with its frills and layers of material.

  They strolled down a macadam road leading out of town and toward flat farmland where no one would see him wobbling about on two wheels. No one but Edy Westin.

  She gazed up at the cloudless sky. “Timothy insisted it will rain this afternoon. He’s rarely wrong.”

  Barrett didn’t doubt it. “Then we should hurry.”

  A wagon trail meandered off the road toward the east, a surprisingly smooth path that ran between a field of corn on one side and a shallow tree line on the other. A private path. He pointed to the trail. “How about there?”

  “Hmm. Nice, soft dirt for your landings.”

  Barrett had forgotten how playful she could be when she was comfortable and relaxed. It was almost like the old days. But they were no longer young and as foolish as they were then. No longer young, anyhow. But how foolish was it for him to expose his heart for a second time to a love that once nearly broke him?

  He answered her teasing with a mock scowl. “There will be no landing other than one made of my own free will.”

  “We’ll see.”

  After swinging his leg over the bicycle, Barrett squirmed on the seat. Gripping each side of the handlebar, he followed Edy’s instruction and placed one foot on the pedal closest to the ground. Good...so far.

  Edy stood at his side, her arms up as though ready to catch him. Didn’t she realize he could crush her if he fell? “All right, now balance, then put your other foot on the pedal and push down.”

  “Before I go too far, how do I stop it?”

  “Drag your feet.”

  So much for the fresh shine on his shoes. “Here I go.” He lifted his foot and placed it on the pedal. The handlebars wriggled back and forth and, with them, the front wheel. He dropped his foot. “A natural, huh? Maybe you should show me.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Try again.”

  After several minutes of practice and Edy’s encouraging words—along with a couple of those embarrassing soft landings—he wheeled down the path, the tires maintaining a fairly steady line, even as the pedals spun faster than his confidence allowed. “This isn’t so hard.”

  “You’re doing well.”

  He still hadn’t mastered the ability to stop the bicycle with ease and dignity, nor were his turns smooth, but he would conquer those problems in time. “One day I’ll ride without gripping the handlebar, like the boy we saw earlier.”

  She covered her eyes with her hand, mimicking terror. “I don’t want to be around for that.”

  Barrett rolled toward her. A gust of wind blew down the path, sending biting dust into the air and tearing loose tendrils of raven hair from under her hat. She brushed them aside, revealing rosy cheeks and a broad smile. She’d always been the loveliest girl he had ever seen—sophisticated, stately, gentle in both movement and spirit.

  Her mouth formed a pretty O and those brown velvet eyes grew round. “Look out, Barrett!”

  His focus jerked to the path ahead of him...and the tree he careened toward.

  Barrett steered left. The bicycle wobbled and shook, this time heading straight for Edy. He managed to avoid her by a hair but lost his balance. The bicycle slid and he tumbled into Edy. They both fell to the ground with Barrett sprawled across her. Too shocked to move, all he could do was stare into her face.

  Beneath him, her ribcage expanded and contracted rapidly. Those dark eyes blinked several times as though she grappled with the reality of their situation.

  Hea
t seared his insides. Days of keeping his distance, physically and emotionally, disintegrated with a single accidental, off-balance moment.

  “This is your idea of a free will landing?” Huskiness altered her normally smooth voice.

  He eased his weight off her lungs but planted his arms on either side of her. He leaned closer, eager to make good on what he’d denied himself at breakfast over two weeks ago.

  Edy turned her head, freezing his movement. “I can’t do this.”

  “You can’t do what?” She couldn’t kiss him or couldn’t bear to be close to him?

  He scooted sideways and propped his elbow in the dirt, his head on his palm, hoping to display a nonchalance rather than the current of frustration running through him.

  She scrambled backward to widen the distance between them and sat in the dirt, her arms wrapped around her knees like a caterpillar seeking the safety of its cocoon. “I can’t let you break my heart a second time.”

  Barrett shot up into a sitting position, doubtful he’d heard her right. After rerunning the words through his mind, his back teeth clenched. “Me break your heart?”

  Chapter Twenty

  From the moment he fell from the bicycle to land on top of her, Edythe realized how little had changed for her when it came to Barrett.

  As a mother, she was accustomed to cleaning up messes and bringing order to chaos. Spilled milk. Dirty clothing. A child’s sickness. She had no idea how to clean up this mess. No idea how to ignore the fact that she’d lain beneath Barrett on the ground, yearning to turn back the clock, to once again feel his arms around her, his kisses on her lips.

  Then the past intervened, ruining her dreams, her future, her trust.

  “Of course, you broke my heart. What other man cared so little that he teased me with false intentions, then abandoned me?”

  “If anyone was guilty of false intentions and abandonment, it was you, Edy.” His face darkened like the thunderclouds above them. “On second thought, I’d say you were guilty of infidelity.”