Home to Heal

by Lois Richer

  Though her heart ached with longing, though she yearned to stay, to see the girls grow and change, to watch Zac blossom in the ministry for which he was made, Abby shed her tears in private with God as her witness, determined that no one would remember her crying.

  When she’d told Miss Partridge of her plan to leave the day after their farewell dinner, the woman had begged a favor.

  “Bonnie said you’re an amazing pianist and vocalist, yet we’ve never heard you at church. Will you please give us a special treat before you leave? Choose any song you like.”

  After some persuading, Abby had agreed, though she was nervous about it. She would sing her mother’s favorite song as a tribute to God.

  So on her last Sunday morning, with the entire congregation watching, she walked to the piano, seated herself and took a deep breath. Then she closed her eyes and began quietly playing the introduction to a song written long ago, but as relevant today as it ever had been.

  “Oh love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee.

  “I give thee back the life I owe, that in thine ocean depths its flow.

  “May richer, fuller be.”

  The moving words and eerie melody combined to echo through the silent sanctuary, but Abby was utterly focused on the message. Would Zac understand this next verse, know that she sang it especially for him? Would he finally realize that leaving him was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do?

  “Oh Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to Thee,

  “I trace the rainbow through the rain, And feel the promise is not vain...”

  She sang on, using the last verse as her own promise to God. As she did, sweet peace filled her. It would be painful to leave the ranch, Zoe and Mia and especially Zac. But God would see her through.

  Abby let the final evocative notes die away before she rose and walked to her pew, head bent, not quite able to meet Zac’s gaze. Suddenly, applause filled the room. It was disconcerting yet somehow richly fulfilling to hear that others felt the same resonance in those words that she had. Zac was applauding, too, though he wore a brooding look, as if the song troubled him.

  “Those words,” he said as she drove back to the ranch after the service. “They’re deep.”

  “Isn’t it amazing that Matheson, the man who wrote them, is said to have penned the hymn in only five minutes during a time of distress?” She glanced at him. “I agreed with the pastor today when he said problems force us to figure out what we really believe.”

  “Huh.” He said little more as they rode home, apparently deep in thought.

  Abby prepared a picnic lunch to enjoy in the meadow. Zoe and Mia skipped along at her side. Zac walked by the rope she’d strung, though lately he’d stopped hanging on. Perhaps he used it as a visual cue. Abby didn’t know if that was because his sight was improving or out of sheer determination to be independent, and she didn’t care. It was enough just to spend time with him and the girls, to share the beautiful meadow.

  “I love summer, with those lovely mountains looming over us and everything so green,” she said after finishing her sandwich. “God makes such beautiful things.”

  “Hard to believe that three years ago so much of this land was black and ugly from forest fires,” Zac said. “Reminds me of a verse. ‘To give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness,’” he recited.

  “That verse perfectly describes how God changes us from weaklings to strong trees. He exchanges our negatives for positives.”

  She got caught in Zac’s stare, felt the intensity of it to her marrow. How sad that this wonderful man didn’t realize how deeply bound he was by God’s love.

  “Daddy?” Zoe snuggled beside Zac and leaned her head against his arm as if she was very weary. “Why does Abby have to go away?”

  Abby’s sprit groaned. She’d informed the twins of her plans two days ago and endured a barrage of questions and bursts of tears ever since. She hated causing them pain, but she couldn’t stay at Hanging Hearts forever.

  “Yeah, why?” Mia repeated, taking her place on his other knee. “Last night we asked you why Mommy died an’ you said families grow and change, an’—”

  “Our family changed when you gotted your eyes hurt and Abby looked after us,” Zoe butted in, not to be outdone by her sister. “Now Abby’s part of our family, isn’t she?”

  “She is.” Mia nodded enthusiastically. “’Cause she keeped staying here with us,” she said, brown eyes glowing with wisdom.

  “When we comed here we got more family.” Zoe counted them off on her fingers. “A grandma and a grandpa an’ a uncle, an’ a aunt an’ a cousin.”

  “Yeah,” Mia agreed. “So me an’ Zoe were wonderin’ why we can’t get another mom? An Abby mom.”

  “Not ’cause we didn’t love our other mom,” Zoe quickly added. “But we need a mom now. Me an’ Mia prayed and prayed an’ we think God gived us Abby to be our new mom.”

  “Yeah.” Mia stared at her father with anticipation. “Okay?”

  Zac looked like he’d been hit with a snowball. The girls waited patiently for a few minutes, but when he didn’t answer they began wiggling, growing excited about the prospect of having a new mom. Abby had to step in.

  “My dear, dear girls,” she began, struggling to speak past her sudden hoarseness. “I love you both very much and there is nothing I would like more than to be your mom. But I can’t,” she inserted quickly, before they could start celebrating.

  “How come?” Zoe demanded.

  “Did we do sumthin’ bad?” Mia asked sadly, tears shimmering, ready to tumble down her face. “’Cause we’re sorry if we did.”

  “You didn’t do anything bad, darling. You’ve been loving and kind and generous. I’ve had so much fun with you.”

  “Then how come—”

  She couldn’t let their hopes build, though she hated dashing them.

  “Things change. People change. Families change, just like your dad said,” she offered quietly, her heart breaking. She dare not look at Zac or she would break down. “I was part of your family for a special few months and it was so wonderful. But you and your dad live here. I have to go find my own home. I don’t belong here. But you do. You and your dad and your grandparents and Ella and her parents. You all belong together. Because you’re a family. Do you understand?”

  “No.” Zoe stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “Daddy told that man who came here yesterday that families can be lots of different people. Right, Daddy?”

  “You did,” Mia reminded Zac before he could answer.

  “They can,” Abby agreed. “If they want to.”

  “You don’t want to be in our family?” Zoe and Mia wore identical frowns.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to,” Abby rushed to reassure these precious twins. “I just...can’t.” She couldn’t do this anymore. She jumped up and walked away as her heart broke, releasing sad tears.

  “I think we shouldn’t talk about this anymore, girls. Okay?” Zac’s quiet voice reached Abby, his voice gentle, reassuring. “We don’t want to make Abby sad, do we?”

  “No!” The twins were unanimous.

  “We love Abby,” Zoe insisted.

  “Yeah, we love her.” Sweet Mia always got the last word.

  Abby kept walking away from them as she begged God to heal her heart. How wonderful it would be to stay, to be part of this family, to love and be loved. I yield my flickering torch to thee. The words from her solo reminded her that God was in control. That whatever happened, He would be there.

  But oh, how she wished she didn’t have to go.

  * * *

  The following week was torture for Zac. He couldn’t get the twins’ question out of his head. They prompted visions of a future that he longed for but was afraid to entertain.
r />   Abby as part of their family? Abby staying here, helping wherever she was needed, brightening every day with her sweet smile, sharing his hopes and fears? Coming to him with her worries, allowing him to comfort her, protect her. Love her.

  Life without Abby. That thought was terrifying. Why?

  Because she belonged here. She belonged with him. She was not a stranger. She was part of every facet of his life. He’d taken her for granted. Who, other than Abby, could he trust to love the twins as much as he did? He loved so many things about her. Her selfless generosity in fixing up the meadow so he could go there. Her unstinting help with his parents and around the ranch. Even her insistence that they help find Miss P. a boyfriend.

  Friday evening Zac sat in the meadow, mulling it all over. His lips curved as he recalled the utter fiasco of his latest attempt at matchmaking. Miss Partridge and Arthur Mendel were so not the combination he’d hoped for. Abby had warned him on Monday.

  “Arthur isn’t right for her, Zac,” she’d warned him. “They’re like cream and lemon juice.”

  “Then who is right?” he’d demanded in exasperation. “She keeps bugging me. I had to come up with someone for her to go out with.”

  On Tuesday Miss P. had interrupted a counseling session to inform Zac that his matchmaking services were no longer required. Thankfully, Abby had not said I told you so after she’d soothed the senior’s feelings. Zac didn’t get how he could counsel others successfully but was unable to help this woman.

  “What’s the issue?” he’d demanded.

  “You’re trying to get her to make do, Zac,” Abby had gently replied. “But the heart wants what the heart wants.”

  Zac’s heart wanted Abby. His strong feelings took him by surprise. He longed for the right to stare into her beautiful eyes as long as possible. To touch her velvet skin and soothe the marks she bore because of her husband’s carelessness. He wanted the right to hold her, to kiss her, to spend however much time they had laughing and sharing and serving God.

  So what about God?

  Abby had been right all along. Zac finally faced the truth. He had no right to ask God to explain Himself.

  You call him Lord, he chided his foolish pride. But is He truly in charge of your life?

  Then it was as if a video played in his head as his brain took him through everything that had happened—the sharp sound of shots firing, witnessing his coworkers go down, blood spattering everywhere. The sudden and sickening awareness that his mission was being attacked by rebels. Terrifying thoughts of his girls being hurt by these madmen.

  His final memory, the explosion of the clinic in front of him, was as unexpected, as vivid and shocking as it had been that day. He could feel the gust of heat singe his hair and toss him backward. He gasped at the memory of excruciating pain as a thousand stab wounds hit his eyes and burned so deep. He felt the solid crack against his skull. And then, mercifully, the picture went black, just as it had that day.

  Zac sat, gasping for breath as he stared around the meadow, reassuring himself that he was fine, that nothing had changed. His brain played a new sound that made his heart clench with joy. Daddy! Daddy! The blessed knowledge that the twins hadn’t witnessed the horror. They wouldn’t have the memory scars of that brutal attack to live with.

  Other events rolled through his head like film from a movie. Hilarious laughter as he, Abby and the twins had tried to fly kites on probably the windiest day of the year. Joyful sounds of sharing fun in this very place. Special moments, like when he’d first seen Abby’s face and how her beauty had floored him. Her touch soothing his headaches away. Her quiet calming voice, so confident of God’s love, chiding him for doubting.

  And the truth of God’s sturdy, unyielding, overwhelming love. For him.

  “I apologize,” he whispered as he soaked in the enormity of it. “I demanded answers like a selfish child. I blamed You. I railed against You. Yet in spite of my tantrums, You still stuck by us.”

  Zac suddenly knew that he shouldn’t have asked, Why did You let it happen to me? He should have been praising God for saving him, for sending him a friend who’d once promised he’d give his life to save Zac’s daughters, and probably had. He should have been on his knees thanking God the twins were with sweet Abby. He should have been grateful for healing and love and all the other blessings he’d found at Hanging Hearts, blessings that now flowed through his life.

  Including a new ministry?

  Including a new love?

  For a moment uncertainty welled. How did he know if either would work out? How could he face the uncertainty of a new career? Of a new love?

  “With You,” he said, finally yielding to the pain and loss and unanswered questions. “You will show me the way. I know that now.” Head bowed, he spread his arms. “I am Your servant.”

  Peace flowed through him like a river until at last his soul was at rest. He leaned back and absorbed it until he felt refreshed, renewed and invigorated.

  Just one question remained.

  “Lord, how do I convince Abby I really care for her, that I’m not just taking the most expedient route by asking her to stay?”

  Zac’s phone rang. Miss P. He grimaced, then answered.

  “Zac, I have some bad news.”

  Abby? The twins? His heart shivered. Lord?

  “It’s about that gift certificate you won for your dart skills at our family night,” she said, sounding short of breath. “The place has closed and I don’t know for how long.”

  “It doesn’t ma—” True to form, she didn’t let him finish.

  “I am calling to invite you to dinner at my home tomorrow night. My way of making up for the mistake,” she said. “Be there about six. And bring the twins. We’ll have a great time together. Okay? See you then.”

  Without waiting for a response, she hung up.

  Zac groaned aloud. No doubt she’d renew her insistence that he find her someone special. The task seemed overwhelming.

  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13

  He chuckled at the solid tug of assurance that filled him, growing his confidence. “You sure do bring those verses to mind, Father. Okay, then.” He paused. “I get it. You’re in charge. That’s the way it’s going to stay. So could You show me a way to propose to Abby? I’ve only got a couple more days before she leaves.”

  He decided to hustle back to the little log house. Maybe he could talk to her tonight, bring the subject around to feelings, specifically his for her. But on his return, Zac found his dad sitting in the living room.

  “Abby asked me to take over,” Ben said. “She and Bonnie are trying to finish their quilt before she leaves.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  So tonight was out. Maybe tomorrow? Before or after Miss P.’s dinner?

  Zac sat late into the night, searching his Bible for some hint about God’s plan. What he found was his own writing beside a verse. It was dated the day his mission had been attacked.

  Deuteronomy 31:6—Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.

  “Thank you for the promise, God. Sorry I didn’t understand sooner. My future is in your hands, right where it should be.”

  Zac wondered if God was saying, “About time!”

  He fell asleep wondering how his Lord would bring him and Abby together.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Abby knocked on the front door and waited, admiring the gorgeous display of flowers Miss Partridge grew in her front garden.

  “Did you forget your keys—” Zac stood in the doorway, staring at her.

  “Hi. What are you doing here?” she asked, wondering if she’d mistaken the time or date, yet knowing she hadn’t.

  “The girls and I were invited for dinner. You
, too?” When Abby nodded, Zac grinned. “Apparently the lady forgot to buy cream, which she insists she must have for her special mashed potatoes. She took the twins with her to get it.”

  Awkward was Abby’s first thought.

  “I thought Miss Partridge had invited me to a friendship dinner,” she said, struggling to puzzle it out. “For the two of us. Maybe I got the day wrong.”

  “Well, come in.” He swung the door wide. “I’m sure she’ll be back momentarily.” He glanced at his watch and frowned.

  “What?” How well she could read Zac’s expressions.

  “She left over twenty minutes ago. Sunshine isn’t that big a town,” he said as he closed the wooden door behind her. “I wonder if she’s had trouble?”

  “Always the negative thought first,” Abby teased. She shook her head. “Miss P. never goes anywhere without her phone. If she ran into trouble she would text. Or call. She’ll be here soon.”

  But when another twenty minutes passed and there was still no sign of her friend, Abby ran out of small talk. It was so hard to be alone with Zac, probably for the last time, and not wish things were different.

  At that moment, both their phones chimed with a text.

  Abby read hers, frowned, then looked at Zac. “What does yours say?”

  “‘My dears,’” he read aloud slowly. “‘Please forgive me for my little ruse. The twins are fine with me and we shall have some fun times before I take them home and put them to bed.’” He looked up. “Yours?”

  “It says the same thing. What does it mean—wait!” she exclaimed as the phones chimed a second time.

  “You read this time,” Zac ordered, his voice tight.

  “‘Dinner is ready in the oven. The table is set. Please relax and enjoy this time with each other. Blessings on you both.’” She looked up warily. “It sounds like a setup.”

  “Because it is. She’s getting back at me for that bad match with Arthur,” he exclaimed.