by Lois Richer
“Maybe.” Zac shrugged it off, clearly unwilling to discuss it further.
“Can I ask you something?” Abby wasn’t finished. She waited for his nod before asking, “What happens if in, say, six months, you still don’t have an answer to why God allowed your mission to be destroyed or you to be injured? What if you don’t have your sight back by then?”
“I don’t have an answer,” he whispered, sounding forlorn.
Abby’s heart ached for him, but she wouldn’t give up on him. Sightless or not, Zac had so much to give, if he could only see it. What she now felt compelled to say would be hard for Zac to hear, but she had to help him move beyond this crossroad where he was stuck.
“Let’s look at this a different way. Say that tomorrow your eye specialist takes off the bandages and you can see as well as you could before. What will you do? You can’t go back into missions work, or probably any kind of ministry, with your trust in God unresolved.” Though he winced, she continued. “Or is regaining your sight reason enough for you to forgive God for breaking your trust, for allowing pain and hurt into your life? If you and your family get back to normal, will that be enough to make you trust God again? And if not, what will?”
“You sure have a way with words, Abby,” he said tersely. “The answer is, I don’t know.” His jaw worked soundlessly until he finally demanded, “How am I supposed to trust God after all this?”
“How can you not trust Him when He kept you and your daughters safe through terrible turmoil?” she demanded. “You speak as if there’s an alternative to trust, but for a Christian there isn’t. If you don’t trust God, with everything,” she emphasized, “then who or what do you trust? Yourself? We both know the folly of that.”
“It’s just that I thought—” He stopped.
“What?” Abby finally gave voice to something that had stewed in her mind for days. “You thought that Zac the missionary would be above the hurt? That Maria’s death was enough of a sacrifice? That God wouldn’t let anything else happen to you?”
“Yes,” he blurted, his face strained. “I thought that leaving home, going without all the conveniences other Christians enjoy, watching my wife die while we were doing God’s work...” He gulped, exhaled and spoke again, but in a more controlled tone. “I stupidly thought those sacrifices would be enough for God. Guess I was wrong.” The side of his mouth tipped in a sardonic smile. “Stupid me.”
“Zac—”
“Please don’t repeat the all things work together for good verse, Abby,” he begged. “No matter how I try, I simply cannot find the good in this.” He pointed to his covered eyes.
“I wasn’t going to say you should,” she chided softly. “I was going to say that God loves you. Whether you believe it or not, whether you feel it or not, it is true. What you’ve gone through, what you’re going through now, doesn’t change that.”
Her soul wept for all he’d lost, but especially for the loss of his trust in God’s love. Zac was hurting and who could blame him? If only she could draw him into her arms and somehow comfort him. But that was impossible. Though she’d grown to care deeply for this man, pain and fear from her past wouldn’t allow her to give her heart again. All she had to offer were words, promises she’d clung to when her own world had crashed around her.
“You are God’s precious child, Zac,” she said, threading her fingers in his. “He chose you because He loves you. He knows every detail of the work you’ve done. He has noted every sacrifice you’ve made. He’s not punishing you. He’s working through His plan. His, not yours or mine or someone else’s. Please hang on until He’s completed His plan.”
He said nothing, though his fingers tightened around hers. The birds sang, the wind whispered across the grass, tossing it to and fro, while crickets chirped their repetitive song. Abby heard it all as background while she silently prayed for him.
Then a loud squeal splintered their solitude.
“What’s wrong?” Zac demanded, releasing her hand as he jerked upright.
“Mia fell off the swing,” Abby explained as she rose. “She’s fine. More shocked than anything, I think. I’ll be back in a minute.”
After she’d soothed Mia’s bump, she served the girls a picnic snack of lemonade and cookies on the grass with their father. Then Ella arrived and Zac returned to the deck. Abby wondered if she should continue their discussion, but before she could, he’d plunged into a new topic.
“Fixing up Peace Meadow was a great idea of yours, Abby, especially since Miss Partridge keeps sending me more people to talk to.” He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “It’s great to have a space away from those two rambunctious ones. They make it impossible to talk to anyone here, let alone expect them to reveal their innermost thoughts. Now I can run away to the meadow. Or at least walk,” he corrected cynically.
“Do I hear a but in there somewhere?” She loved his grin, those times when a hint of cheeky humor tilted his lips, erasing all trace of melancholy from his face.
“Not a but, but...” He chuckled as he leaned back. “The thing is, I have to keep bothering people to get me there and then ask whomever I’m talking to if they’ll bring me back here.” He sighed. “You wouldn’t know this, but the meadow was always my go-to hideaway when I was a kid. I’d bury myself in the trees. I often dreamed of Peace Meadow when I was in Africa. The calm and serenity—well, some days I have a yen to stay there by myself, just sit and reflect on things until I feel like coming back.”
“Funny, I was thinking about that yesterday when I was late coming to get you.” Abby smothered her excitement at the plan she’d already conceived. “I actually had an idea when we first saw the chairs at the hardware store, but I forgot about it. I’ll show you what I have in mind after supper, okay?”
“Now I’m curious,” Zac said, both eyebrows raised.
“Good.” Abby changed the subject. “How are you feeling about seeing the doctor tomorrow?”
“Like it’s a huge nuisance. I hate having to drag you there and ruin your entire day for what will probably be another wait-and-see prescription.” He shuffled his feet so his legs stretched out in front of him. “I suppose it’s rather like you trying to plan your future when you haven’t any clue how long you’ll be stuck here. We’re both spinning our wheels while the world rolls on around us.”
“Hey! I am not stuck here,” she corrected him. “I choose to be here, and I can’t think of a lovelier place or more wonderful people to be stuck with. The Double H is fascinating. Yesterday I saw a baby horse’s arrival into the world.”
“Foal,” he corrected, and then frowned. “It’s a bit late in the season for that.”
“Yes, so Mandy said. I think the mother—”
“Dam,” he corrected again. “And the father horse is called a sire.”
“I think the dam was older. She had a hard time.” There was so much to learn at Hanging Hearts Ranch. Abby wondered if she’d ever get it right. “Anyway, the birth was a sight to behold.” Zac made a face. “What? Didn’t I say it right?”
“Foaling. The foaling was a sight to behold.” He grinned. “Aren’t all births amazing? Like a promise for the future. At least, that’s how I felt when the twins arrived, and with every child I ever delivered.”
“I felt the same with Levi,” she murmured, reminded of the rush of joy that had swelled each time she cuddled her son or gazed on his tiny face. “Precious gifts,” she whispered, swallowing hard to stop the tears.
Zac said nothing, his head tilted to one side as if he was studying her. They both started at the sound of a motor shattering the silence.
“Is it Miss P.? Again?” he asked dryly. “She’ll pretend she came to see me, but she’ll somehow slip in a comment about Avery Kent, who’s feeling down since his dad died, or Arianna Parker, who’s thinking about running away from home because her parents are separating, or Nelda Cross whose kid
is leaving for college in the fall and she can’t bear to contemplate her empty nest.”
“Wow! How do you know all this stuff?” Abby asked, stunned.
“It’s only my sight that doesn’t work, you know. I hear very well. Especially at church. But even if I didn’t, Miss P. keeps showing up here, pretending she’s come to see how I am, but it’s actually to talk about her list of ‘husband prospects’ with whom she wants me to meet.” He grimaced. “If I tell you something,” he murmured as the vehicle’s motor shut off. “Will you promise not to gloat?”
“Maybe.” Abby caught the faint flicker of a grin at the corner of his mouth. “You’re actually enjoying talking about her prospects, aren’t you?”
“Zac, dear! How are you?” Miss Partridge called, interrupting their discussion.
“Keep that to yourself, Abby,” he ordered, but he was smiling as he replied in a louder voice, “I’m good, Miss Partridge. And you?”
“Fine as frog’s hair. Hello, Abby. I came to talk to Zac about someone who wants to ask him about mission work.” Miss Partridge paused when Ella, Mia and Zoe rushed over. “My dears, hello,” she greeted them with a huge smile. “May they have a treat, Zac?”
“Chocolate bars,” Abby explained sotto voce as Miss Partridge drew three from the capacious quilted bag she always carried.
“I’m sure they’d love it, wouldn’t you, girls?” Zac’s reminder to use their manners was implicit in his tone.
“Yes! Thank you,” the children said in unison. They found a shady spot under the newly leafed cottonwood tree to enjoy their snack.
“Who is this intrepid new missionary?” Zac’s voice now had an edge that hadn’t been there before.
“She’s a junior who has been actively involved in several summer youth missions. She speaks two languages fluently and is working on a third. Her name is Melanie.” Miss Partridge huffed out the words as if she was out of breath from climbing stairs.
“Have a seat, Miss Partridge,” Abby said. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Perhaps a glass of something cool,” the lady said. “I’ve been rushing so much today.”
Abby went to fetch it. When she returned, Zac and his guest were glaring at each other. At least, that’s what it looked like, except Zac’s eyes were covered. Still, the rest of his demeanor showed anger or perhaps frustration. No, make that belligerence.
“I don’t want to talk to anyone about Africa,” he snapped, his body rigid. “This Melanie person should contact the mission society.”
“Melanie has already done that and they’ve told her what they can. What she’s after now is a firsthand view of day-to-day life in another country. She has a ton of questions, Zachary,” Miss Partridge said in a wheedling voice. “You must know how difficult it is to anticipate some things. Wouldn’t you have appreciated someone telling you to bring your favorite candy bar from home or informing you that your favorite tea wouldn’t be available?”
“I do not want to talk about Africa,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “Not now. Maybe not ever.”
“Hmm.” Miss Partridge flopped back in her chair and took a deep drink of her iced tea. She waited, as if she thought he’d change his mind, and when he didn’t, she sighed heavily. “All right, then. Never mind.” She thanked Abby for the beverage and rose. “I must get on with my day. Oh, dear. I almost forgot.”
“Forgot what?” Zac asked in a grumpy tone.
“CDs,” Miss Partridge said triumphantly. “A friend found a source of those medical journals you like. They’re voice recordings of old and new material. I asked for the last two years and they arrived today. I’ll get them for you.”
“The last two years?” Zac looked stunned. “I had no idea they’d recorded—”
“Neither did I. Praise the Lord for friends willing to help.” She started down the stairs. Abby quickly joined her.
“I’ll help you. Girls,” she called to the twins. “Would you like to give us a hand?” She winked at Miss P. “It makes them feel they’re part of things if they pitch in now and again.”
“Well, of course it does.” The former librarian handed each of the girls a small package and told them to take it to Zac. When they left, she didn’t immediately hand another package to Abby. “Have I done something to anger him?” she asked worriedly.
“No. It’s just that Zac hasn’t quite dealt with all that happened in Africa,” she said, not wanting to break his confidence. “Give him a while and I’m sure he’ll be willing to talk to your student. But we mustn’t press him. Healing takes time.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d said that, Abby reflected as she watched Miss Partridge drive away. And it wouldn’t be the last. Healing from a physical wound happened much faster than the healing of damaged hearts and souls.
“Abby?” Zac called.
She carried the last packet of CDs to him.
“That was very kind of Miss P.,” she said. “Now you won’t be forced to listen to me mangle those medical terms I’ve never heard of.”
“You never mangle anything.” He inclined his head. It felt as if he was studying her, except of course, he couldn’t see. “Did I offend her?”
So each was worried about the other. Abby felt somewhat better about the woman’s visit.
“I don’t think she’s offended. She’s excited about helping Melanie, but I’m sure she understands your hesitations.”
“I hope so.” He stretched out once more.
She was too aware of this man, of the piney scent of his aftershave, of the flop of hair over his forehead and of the nuances of his moods. She cared deeply that he still suffered over the events of the past and feared reminders might force him to relive them again mentally. To stop herself from offering unwanted comfort, she stepped toward the door.
“I think the girls and I should get busy making lunch. Do you want me to set up one of those CDs for you to listen?”
“No, thanks,” he said absently. “I’ll just sit here and listen to the birds for a while.”
And maybe pray?
Don’t hope for the impossible, Abby.
* * *
Zac could barely contain his curiosity about Abby’s promised after-supper surprise, more so since she’d disappeared this afternoon for well over an hour and not even the twins knew where she’d gone. Relieved when the meal was over, dishes done and no other excuse to delay them, he gladly followed her outside.
“I like s’prises,” Zoe announced.
“Me, too,” Mia chanted. “Don’t you, Daddy?”
It sounded as if the pair were dancing circles around him, which was somewhat disorienting when he couldn’t see them.
“Okay, girls. I want you to promise there will be no talking for the next five minutes. Okay?” Abby waited, apparently received the confirmation she wanted and then took his hand. “Ready, Zac?”
Funny how the mere touch of her fingers on his skin settled the rush of nerves that gripped him. Or was it the calming sound of her voice? Either way, he relaxed and nodded.
“Good. You’ve taken the last step and are now on solid ground. I want you to find the last railing post.” She moved his hand forward and then let go.
“Oh, Daddy—”
“Girls! No speaking, remember?” Abby’s stern voice hushed the twins.
More curious than ever now, Zac reached out, felt the top of the newel post at the foot of the stairs. He slid his hand over it, wondering what this was about. A moment later his fingers felt a thick cord tied around the wood.
“What’s this?” he asked. “Rope? Why?”
“Let’s just follow it,” Abby suggested. “You lead.”
“Really?” He gave her his most carefree smile while his heart thudded double time. “Me? Lead? You do realize I can’t see?”
“Uh-huh. Use the rope to guide you.”
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“Okay.” Shrugging, he slid his hand along the rope and slowly walked forward. Then he felt a bump or a knot and stopped. “Is this the end?”
“No.” Abby laughed. “It’s a marker to warn you that the level of the path is about to change. How does it feel?”
“Like there’s a massive knot in it,” he said, his fingers moving over it curiously.
“The larger the knot, the bigger the change in the slope will be. Let’s keep going,” she encouraged.
The longer Zac walked with his hand on the rope, the more comfortable he became. He stumbled now and again, but the rope supported him. The path seemed fairly even and he guessed Abby had enlisted Drew’s help to grade and newly gravel it.
“We’re going to Peace Meadow,” he guessed.
“Can we talk now?” Zoe demanded, sounding utterly disgruntled.
“Yeah, can we?” Mia echoed.
“Sure.” Abby laughed, a musical sound that added to Zac’s confident strides. “Just remember to walk on this side of your dad so he can keep hold of the rope.”
“This is a funny s’prise, isn’t it, Daddy?” Disappointment echoed in Zoe’s words.
“It’s a great surprise, sweetheart,” Zac told her.
“Why?” Mia wondered. “It’s just a rope.”
“Because the rope is here, because Abby made it so I can use it to get around—that’s what makes it great,” he explained, thrilled that he was able to move ahead so easily.
“Huh.” Mia thought about it for a moment, then bellowed, “I’m goin’ to the gazebo!” Her sister echoed the comment and their squeals of excitement dimmed as they raced away.
“They’re not grateful, but I sure am. It was very kind of you to do this for me, Abby.” Zac wasn’t sure where she was standing so he addressed the air in front of him. “It’s fantastic. Now I can come here whenever I want, sit for as long as I want and go home when I want. It’s a bit of freedom and it feels wonderful.”
“Just don’t sit in the sun too long,” she warned with a laugh.
