by Lois Richer
“Because?” Olivia’s intense scrutiny made him want to get it right.
“Because true trust means we don’t worry and fret.” Gabe watched her frown. “It’s not easy to trust, but I remind myself every day that God’s in control, that growth takes time. If I’m still worried, then I tell Him that. That’s when peace comes.” Usually.
“Right away?” Olivia asked, eyes wide.
“Sometimes.” Gabe shrugged.
“I’ve struggled with this for so long,” she admitted, her voice tight. “I want to trust God, but nothing happens when I pray.”
“Nothing happens immediately, you mean? Or you don’t see anything happening?” Gabe cautioned himself to be careful. He was no spiritual leader, but the strain in her face made him want to share what he’d learned. “It’s funny, but since Eli’s appearance I think I understand certain aspects of God a bit more.”
“Really?”
“It sounds weird.” Gabe hesitated before deciding to just say it and let Olivia make of it what she would. “Those words of Eli’s—that he’d prayed and prayed for me to come—they stick in my head. I got thinking about how I’ve prayed and prayed for something.”
“And?” she nudged verbally, eyes wide.
“I think sometimes God doesn’t answer right away because He’s trying to stretch our faith.” Though he felt silly trying to explain something he’d never articulated, Olivia seemed eager for him to continue. “It’s not that He can’t do whatever we ask. But it’s like when you were a kid at Christmas and you so desperately wanted something—a doll, maybe?” He looked at her to see if that made sense.
“A laptop,” she murmured.
“Of course.” He made a face. “You dreamed and thought about and planned all the things you’d do with that laptop, right? And all the while you waited, expecting your aunts would put it under the tree for you because you knew they loved you and wanted you to be happy.” He stopped, uncertain if this was a good comparison.
“They gave me a lovely silver one. I used it until I finished university,” she told him.
“You trusted them with your desire because you knew they loved you, but you had to trust and believe and wait until Christmas.” He sighed. “What I’m trying to say, badly, is that I think sometimes God makes us wait so we can really think about what we’re asking for, because we often say, ‘I want this, I want that,’ but it’s really only a momentary fleeting thing that we forget about in a few minutes, or as soon as the next thing strikes our fancy.”
“I’ve done that.” Olivia flushed as if embarrassed by the admission.
“Me, too.” Gabe nodded, a little distracted by her sad expression. “So, if we believe God is good and just and faithful, then we can be confident and rest in the knowledge that He will answer our prayers—but in His own time. We don’t have to worry and struggle over things we don’t control. We can rest in God and let Him work it out.”
She stared at him as if surprised.
Gabe gulped, felt his face burn. “I sound like some kind of preacher,” he muttered.
“You sound very smart.” She kept watching him.
“Why did you ask me about this, Olivia?” he asked after a few moments had passed. And then he knew. “It’s this thing you have about kids getting hurt around you, isn’t it?”
She nodded, tears welling and spilling over her cheeks.
“I love my nieces and nephews so much and I want to be close to them, to have them hug me and be able to hug them back, to take them on walks and find special bugs or pretty stones or watch a doe and her fawn. But then I remember the past and fear takes over and I’m terrified I’ll cause them harm.” She looked at him, eyes huge and glossy in her lovely face. “What if God never answers my prayer to be free of that, Gabe? What if I’m always going to be afraid?”
Gabe didn’t really understand all she was suffering, but he couldn’t stand to watch Olivia weep, to see her quiet desperation. He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close, allowing her to cry out the worry and fear that dogged her while he silently prayed.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffed as she drew away a few moments later. “I’ve soaked your shirt.”
“Olivia, have you talked to anyone about this?” When she shook her head, he frowned. “You should at least talk to your aunts.”
“I don’t want them to see how spiritually weak I am,” she whispered.
“You’re not spiritually weak,” he said firmly.
“Then—?” She frowned at him, raised her shoulders helplessly.
“I’m no psychologist but I think inside you’re afraid that God won’t give you what you want, that is, freedom from this fear you carry.” Gabe wasn’t sure where the knowledge came from. He only knew it seemed right. “I don’t know much about your past, but I’m guessing you became an organizer because you felt you had to take care of yourself, because nobody else would.”
“How did you know?” she gasped.
“I didn’t, but—that’s how Eve was.” He did not want to talk about his ex-wife, but some distant memory flickered in the recesses of his mind. “Even though I loved her, when I think about it now I realize that no matter how many times I said it, she never really seemed to believe me. And the reason she didn’t was because she didn’t trust me.” The burst of knowledge burned like fireworks in his brain.
“Does knowing that make it easier to forgive her?” Olivia murmured.
Gabe stared at her and in that instant the gut-burning fury flared again.
“No,” he snapped.
“Sorry.” Olivia drew away, opened the door and stepped out of his truck, her face thoughtful.
“Wait,” Gabe chewed himself out for not wording that properly. “I was trying to say that God tells us He loves us, but if we don’t believe it and trust in it, it doesn’t do us any good.”
“You’re right. I need to think about that.” She gave him a funny smile. “Thanks for sharing, Gabe. See you tomorrow—after lunch?”
He nodded, watching as she closed the truck door, walked to The Haven and disappeared inside. He drove to the Double M with the pastor’s words from that study on prayer echoing inside his head.
You’re afraid to trust God because you don’t ask for His will to be done. You want Him to do your will. That never works. Trust only comes when we want God’s will more than we want our own.
While you’re thinking about that, consider this. Maybe your prayers aren’t answered because God’s waiting for you to take care of something that gnaws and festers inside you.
Obviously, God wanted Gabe to forgive Eve.
“I can’t,” he said bitterly as he shoved the gearshift into Park and climbed out of his truck. “I can’t just forget everything she cost me. Dad. Our ranch. Love. Eli.”
He’d forgotten that kids from The Haven were coming for an evening trail ride. They would end the event with a big campfire. Gabe changed clothes and then went to chop wood. Maybe if he wore himself out he wouldn’t have to think about Eve and the past and everything he’d lost.
Maybe.
* * *
Two nights later, weary from the reboot but satisfied that The Haven’s systems were working properly, Olivia perched on the edge of Eli’s bed to finish his bedtime Bible story and wondered where Gabe was. She hadn’t seen him last night. Was he upset with her? Was he angry at her for asking about forgiving Eve?
“David was brave, right, Livvie?” Eli watched her closely. “He wasn’t scared of that big giant.” His solemn face studied her. “Do you get really scared?”
“Yes.” I have my own giants. Immediately her mind time traveled back to her childhood and the day of the fire. With those memories came the usual blanket of guilt. Why hadn’t she searched just a minute longer? Tried a little harder?
“Why d’you get scared?” Eli wanted to know.
&
nbsp; “Somebody got hurt because I couldn’t help them,” she said brusquely, not wanting to elaborate and leave him with bad thoughts before he went to sleep. Actually, she didn’t want to remember at all. “I tried, but I was so scared I couldn’t help. That’s why they got hurt.”
“Is that why my mom died? ’Cause I was scared?” His voice dropped. “I tried to be a good boy. I din’t tell when Bobby pinched me real hard or when April hitted me with the belt ’cause Mommy said I had to be a good boy so she’d get better.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “But I musta not been good enough ’cause she didn’t get better.”
“No, Eli, that’s not right.” Olivia ached to wrap him in her arms and rock away his sadness and guilt, but she couldn’t. Fear kept her frozen in place. Better not to build the bonds and make herself responsible. All she could do was try to dispel his sad thoughts with words. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”
“But you said—”
“It isn’t the same.” Olivia now wished she hadn’t brought up the past. Going back only added to her culpability.
“Why?” Eli was obviously struggling to comprehend.
“Well.” How was she supposed to word this so the kid wouldn’t feel responsible for his mother’s death? “Your mom needed to know you were okay with your aunt.”
“How come?” He wrinkled his nose.
“Because if she knew you were okay, she wouldn’t worry about you and that made her feel better. You kept her happy by not telling. The only thing is...” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “If someone is nasty like Bobby and April were, I think you needed to tell someone, Eli. You couldn’t tell your mom, I know that. She was too sick.” She rushed to reassure him, anxious to dispel his worry. “But if someone hits you or pinches you like that again, tell your dad or me or someone, okay?”
“But you’re goin’ away.” His frown matched the sinking of her heart.
“Not forever and, anyway, your dad will be here. He’ll always protect you, no matter what.” Of that at least Olivia had no doubt. “Promise that if anything bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, you’ll tell your dad about it right away. Okay?”
“’Kay.” Eli relaxed against the pillow, his face thoughtful. “Who’d you tell?”
“Pardon?” Olivia blinked, surprised by his question.
“When the person got hurted ’cause you din’t help.” He studied her unblinkingly. “Who’d you tell ’bout it?”
“Nobody,” she whispered.
“But you said—”
“It’s bedtime, sweetie.” She pulled the covers up to his chin and smiled. “Want me to listen while you say your prayers?”
“Yes, please.” Eli squeezed his eyes closed and began talking as if God was sitting right there beside her in the armchair.
Olivia marveled at the simplicity of his prayers, and the sincerity with which he thanked God for his new friends, The Haven, and, of course, the birds he was learning to identify. He stumbled a bit when he came to the end of his God Blesses, hesitating before he added Gabe to the long list. He did not say Dad. There was an uncertainty underlying his words that said he wasn’t quite sure how to pray for the man now in his life.
That hesitation pained Olivia. Her arms ached to enfold the little boy, to hold him close and assure him that Gabe wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen to him ever again. But nobody could guarantee that. More than anything she wanted to promise to be there if Eli needed her. But she couldn’t say that, either, because she wouldn’t be here. Her future didn’t lie at The Haven, and, anyway, forming the bond between this child and his father was the most important thing.
Eli had just whispered, “Amen,” when Gabe added his own “Amen” as he set his Stetson on the floor.
“I’m sorry I’m so late, Eli,” he apologized. “Some cattle broke through a fence and I had to round them up.”
Olivia moved so Gabe could kneel at the side of Eli’s bed. He, at least, had no hesitation about touching his son, his hand smoothing unruly strands so like his own, his smile lifting the corners of his lips.
“That was a good prayer,” he said softly. “I think God likes it when we thank Him for all the things He gives us.”
Eli watched him.
Gabe finally kissed the top of his head, murmured a good-night, then rose and switched off the main light, leaving a tiny night-light burning. Olivia preceded him out of the room and waited until he’d closed the door before walking down the stairs.
“I’m sorry I had to cancel our house hunt. It’s been crazy busy, and now I’ve got to get back to the Double M,” he said apologetically. “We have a couple of sick horses. Can I let you know about looking at houses—maybe tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Tears welled as he left. Gabe had driven over to say good-night to his son. What a great guy. Gabe deserved to be a dad.
He deserved to be happy, to love and be loved. She couldn’t stay, but while she was here she would help him however she could.
Chapter Six
“I’m sorry you’re hurt, Eli.” The hall clock had just chimed twelve noon the following day when Olivia finished pressing the adhesive strip to the child’s arm. She winced in empathy at the ugly red scratches the length of his arm, but said only, “I’m sure it will heal quickly, honey.”
“Thanks, Livvie.” Gabe’s son flung his arms around Olivia’s neck and squeezed tightly, obviously needing comfort.
Maybe it was his use of her family’s nickname, or perhaps it was the way Eli’s hold tightened. Or maybe it was her own silly yearning to share a bond with this little boy. Whatever the reason, Olivia hugged him back despite her brain’s protests. She was getting too emotionally involved, but she needed this contact as much as Eli did, needed it to soothe her aching heart. But what if—? She eased away from him.
“Don’t climb on sharp rocks anymore, okay?” she advised, gulping down the rush of emotions his warm hug had caused.
“I won’t.” Eli’s bottom lip trembled for a moment as he studied the plaster bandage and the few angry red marks it didn’t quite cover. Then he summoned a smile and, with shoulders back, pronounced, “I’m a big boy.”
“You sure are, sweetheart.” Concern for the children’s safety made her ask, “Where were you playing, Eli?”
“There.”
Olivia followed the direction of his pointing finger through the window. Every nerve went on high alert. There were no rocks over there, unless... She had to check this out.
“Show me exactly where.” She followed Eli out of the office, her worry growing as they tromped through underbrush and straight to a pile of jagged rocks Jake had gathered from the property. “But there’s a sign here, Eli. See.” She pointed to each printed word, saying them distinctly. “Keep out!” She saw his blue eyes widen in surprise. “This little gate shouldn’t be open. Did you do that?”
“Uh-huh.” His head dropped to his chest.
“Why?” Olivia couldn’t understand his disobedience.
“I needed a rock. Vic said we’re gonna paint ’em after lunch.” He frowned. “I gotta have a really nice rock. To give—someone.”
A rock—the truth suddenly dawned. Sunday was Father’s Day. Eli wanted to give his painted rock to Gabe. The significance of that action built a lump in her throat that she had to gulp down. Voice wobbling, she reached out and patted his shoulder.
“We’ll find you a nice rock, Eli. But not in here.” She firmly relatched the gate and double twisted the wire to make it very difficult to open. “When the sign says to stay out you must obey. The signs are to keep you safe.”
“’Kay,” he mumbled, eyes downcast. Something in his response bothered her.
“You did read the sign, didn’t you?” she asked, but he darted away. She stood there, confused, studying the rock pile, trying to work it out.
“Something wrong?�
� Gabe’s quiet question caught her attention. Olivia faced him.
“Do you think this sign is too small?” she asked, struggling to decipher a niggling warning that wouldn’t be shaken.
“Hardly. You could read it from the kitchen window.” When she didn’t respond, Gabe set a hand on her shoulder, his voice concerned. “What is it, Olivia?”
“I’m not sure yet. I need to think about it some more.” She forced a smile. “Ready to go house hunting?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” His tone made her do a double take.
“Are you getting cold feet?”
“No.” His blue eyes held hers. “Just worried I’ll miss some detail that’s important to Eli.”
“Then we’ll take him—oh.” Olivia stopped in her tracks. “He can’t come with us today.”
“Why not?” Gabe wore a confused frown.
“There’s, um, an activity planned for this afternoon that he really wants to be part of.” She shrugged. “It’s not a problem. We’ll scout out the houses and when you see a couple you think are suitable, we’ll get his opinion. Not that I think he’ll notice much except the windows. He’s sure big on watching birds.”
“Very big,” Gabe chuckled. “When a bird arrives, he stops midsentence and stares. It’s unnerving.”
“Maybe we should find out what got him interested in them,” she mused.
They walked to The Haven. Gabe said he’d have a word with his son while she got her purse. When Olivia returned, Gabe looked upset.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Oh, you saw his scratches. Did you ask him about them?” When he shook his head, she explained what had happened.
“That’s why you were asking about the sign.” Gabe helped her into his truck, closed the door and walked to the driver’s side. When the truck was rolling down the hill, he said, “Eli must have seen it. Why would he disobey?”
“We’ll ask him later,” Olivia temporized, not wanting to reveal the secret of Eli’s Father’s Day gift. “Now let’s concentrate on finding your new home.”
