by Lois Richer
As usual, thoughts of Kyle made her heart race. Just being near him brought all sorts of odd reactions she’d never felt before. She hardly dared think it, but could this be love?
Sara didn’t know. Anything she knew about love came from the books she’d read. But these feelings inside her weren’t like anything she’d read about. What was love, anyway?
It was affection, fondness for another hurting soul. She certainly felt all of that for Kyle. He was her friend, so of course she cared about him.
She pulled Laurel’s Bible near and turned to 1 Corinthians 13. Carefully with great thought, she read the entire passage.
“That’s it exactly,” she whispered in wonderment. Her fingers traced the words again.
If you love someone, you will be loyal to him no matter what the cost. You will always believe in him, always expect the best of him, and always stand your ground in defending him.
The words felt right and true when applied to what was inside her heart.
“So do I love Kyle, God? And if I do, what do I do about it?”
*
Across town, in the darkness of his family home, Kyle couldn’t settle. He knew his unease had to do with Sara. That unsettled him even more.
She was utterly beautiful, inside and out. She loved reaching out to everyone, spreading compassion on everyone. There seemed no end to her pluck and Kyle was embarrassed by his growing need to know how this delicate woman, who had grown up in the difficult world of foster care, had acquired her tender heart.
Ask her, his brain ordered. Guilt rushed over him as he remembered the many times he’d rebuffed her questions. He hadn’t been willing to share his past with her. How could he now pry into hers?
The laptop sat in the corner, waiting to answer his questions with a few keystrokes. Kyle knew exactly how to coax answers from it in a very short space of time. And yet…
Part of him rebelled at such a blatant invasion of her privacy. The other part argued that if he knew what made her the way she was, maybe he’d be able to show her that dependence on God was not going to help her.
Finally, he opened the laptop, booted it up and initiated his search.
Ten minutes later Kyle was reeling, stunned by the depravity of foster parents who’d kept Sara imprisoned as their personal slave, preying on her neediness and innocence for years. The ugly details filled him with anger, shock and a thousand questions. Why had she stayed, and how had enduring such horror left Sara with her deep and abiding inner joy and faith in God?
He shut down the computer. Tomorrow he’d ask her.
Kyle tossed that idea away as quickly as it had come. If he asked Sara why she was so positive God was on her side after she’d suffered so much, she’d know he’d been prying into her life. She’d also sing God’s praises to him yet again, and he did not want to hear that. Bitterness welled up inside at the betrayal of faith he and Sara had both suffered.
But Sara doesn’t feel betrayed, an inner voice whispered.
He wanted—no, needed—to help her. Why not go to Lives more often? He could say Rod wanted help with his website or ask Tony, the would-be mechanic, to help rebuild his old ATV. Whatever the excuse, Kyle would talk to Sara and find a way to help her.
The message light flashed on the phone. Kyle pushed the button. Elation rushed in when the Realtor asked to show the house.
Except, if it sold right away, he’d never find out how Sara—
“First you have to get the offer,” he said aloud. “And when you do, Sara and Lives Under Construction cannot come into it. You aren’t staying here. You’re leaving.”
Funny how saying that aloud cast a pall over him.
Kyle hobbled to his room. Amazingly, he hadn’t taken a pain pill all day. Not even after he’d fallen flat in front of the entire town, which didn’t seem so terrible now. In fact, his public humiliation lost all significance when he compared it to Sara’s miserable childhood and the added indignity of having that ugliness repeated in the tabloids during the court case.
All Kyle had to do was watch his step, but Sara—how could she get over the things she’d gone through? She hoped finding her family would heal her past but Kyle wasn’t so sure.
The memory of her sobbing against his shoulder made him feel helpless.
If only he could—
No! He needed to forget about the tenderness Sara roused in his heart. He had to erase memories of that tickle of delight that shimmied down his arm when his hand brushed her hair. He must obliterate the rush of joy he felt when she laughed. Sleep vanished as he remembered every heart-stirring detail of the day with her.
She can’t be more than a friend, his brain reminded.
Nothing more.
Kyle’s last thoughts before he finally found sleep were of silver-gray eyes and the sound of gently amused laughter.
A beautiful face, and an even more beautiful heart.
Chapter Nine
On June 21, Sara went to the beach after dinner.
Since it was the longest day of the year she intended to stay awhile—daylight now lasted well into the wee morning hours. She sat on a bench, backed by the massive, smooth boulders that surrounded Hudson Bay, mesmerized by the elegant dips and dives of gigantic whales floating in the bay.
Silently she pleaded with God to lead her to her father.
“Sara?”
She turned her head. Kyle stood several feet away, breathing heavily from the effort of making his way out to her.
“May I join you?”
“Sure.” She studied his careful progress toward her, noting how he avoided the lichen-covered bits of rock, which might be slippery.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Enjoying this.” She moved her arm to include the panorama before them. “It’s nine o’clock at night yet still as bright as this morning. I can’t get over it.”
“All part of living in the North,” he said with a grin. “And you’re not the only one enjoying the light.” He pointed out the lawn chairs dotting the crest of the hill above them. “When summer arrives in Churchill, we don’t like to miss a day.”
She smiled at the we. So he still considered himself a Native. Good. Maybe he’d finally realize how much he was needed here.
Kyle sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. Unnerved by his touch, Sara turned her attention back to the bay and pointed.
“See those whales? They’re black. But I read that Churchill whales are white.”
“There are two main types of whales that come here,” he explained. “Beluga whales are a gray-white. They go into the Churchill river to have their babies.” He pointed. “They come right alongside a boat, so close you can pet their heads.”
“Really?” She sighed. “I would love to do that.”
“I used to do it in a kayak,” he murmured, his gaze on the horizon, deep in thought. After a moment he spoke again. “Those—” he pointed toward the bay “—are the big guys. They also come here to give birth but because of their size, they have to stay in the bay where the water’s deeper.”
“Laurel said something about there being a fort here?” She leaned back, thrilling to the sound of his deep voice and the way his whole manner grew more animated when he spoke about the town.
“Of course. Prince of Wales Fort,” Kyle told her. “Originally called Eskimo Point. Dad and I used to do a boat tour there.
“The fort was built by the Hudson’s Bay Company in 1717 to protect and control their interests in the fur trade. It has forty-two cannons with more across the river at Cape Merry. It’s a protected heritage site now.”
Sara hugged her arms around her waist and imagined Churchill long ago. “This place has so much history. Everywhere you look there’s evidence of people pulling together, of families building their homes in a new and unfamiliar land. I’m going to miss the community’s closeness when I leave at Christmas.”
“What’s stopping you from staying?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.
“I took Laurel’s job for six months to give me time to make some decisions about my future. I’m kind of like you, Kyle.” She smiled at him, but because looking at him made her catch her breath, she refocused on the bay. “Churchill is a great place to get away from—everything.”
“I guess.”
“But I can’t stay here, much as I love it. I need to figure out what God has planned for me in the world and get busy at it.”
“You can’t do whatever it is here?” His voice held unasked questions.
How could she explain her belief that she needed to learn how to fit in with people, how to function on her own without Laurel or anyone else’s support? She couldn’t say that.
“I can’t stay without a job and that ends at Christmas.” She smiled at his puzzled look. “Laurel was my social worker but she’s become a sort of mother to me. I had an isolated childhood. She agrees that I need to go back to the city where I used to live and rebuild my life.”
“But surely if you wanted to stay—”
“If it was part of God’s plan for me, I would, but I believe staying here would be too easy. It’s too comfortable for me here. I wouldn’t have to change and grow as much.” She struggled to explain what she meant. “I need to change who I am and how I see the world.”
“I don’t think you need to change anything. I think you’ll fit in perfectly well wherever you go.”
“Thank you.” Flustered by his compliment, she kept her gaze forward. It would be hard to leave Lives, but especially hard to leave Kyle. “Besides, Laurel’s already recruiting someone to take my place.”
“Maybe she thinks there aren’t enough single men here.” He eased his leg into a more comfortable position.
“Why would that matter?” Sara asked in confusion.
“Well, if she’s concerned about your future, she probably wants you to meet somebody, fall in love, get married and have kids.”
Rattled by his searching glance, Sara blushed.
“You don’t want to get married and have a family?” A sharp edge to his question made her look at him.
“I’d like that more than anything,” she told him. “But I doubt it will happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” It felt funny to be discussing this with Kyle. But he was sitting there, waiting for an answer, and she couldn’t lie. “I’m not the kind of person men want to marry.”
“You’re not?” His eyes did a head-to-toe scan of her. “Why?”
“I’m a misfit.” Sara avoided his eyes. “I’m not really good at anything important.”
“I doubt the kids would say that come breakfast time.” His eyes crinkled when he smiled.
“Anybody can cook.” She shrugged that off.
“I can’t.” He kept his gaze on her. “Why else wouldn’t someone want to marry you?”
“I’m not pretty,” she admitted, embarrassed by his continued probing. “I’m not normal. I don’t know anything about fashion or how to dress. I certainly don’t know anything about love or, uh, romance. I’ve never even dated.”
Kyle was silent for a long time. Sara could feel the intensity of his stare cutting across any pretense she might have offered. So she sat silent, embarrassed and ashamed.
“Sara, not every man is concerned about glamour or looks. Not that you have to worry. You’re a very beautiful woman.” He touched her arm as if to reinforce his words.
“You don’t have to say that,” she whispered. “I know I’m not pretty.”
“Have you looked in a mirror recently?” He barked out a laugh. “Your eyes are amazing. Your face could be on a magazine. On top of all that you’re an awesome cook.” His voice lowered to a serious tone. “But what matters most is that you have a generous, tender heart that cares for people. That’s the most attractive thing about you. Caring for people is what you do best. It’s why the boys care about you so much.”
“Thank you for saying that, Kyle,” she whispered, more embarrassed than ever by his fulsome praise. “It’s very kind of you.”
“I’m not being kind.” His loud voice drew the attention of some passersby. “Listen to me, Sara. I got myself engaged to a woman who was all of the things you think are so important. But when I lost my leg, she took off without even saying goodbye. She was disgusted by me.”
The pain darkening Kyle’s eyes made Sara long to hug him, but before she could console him, he continued.
“You have more beauty in your little finger than she had in her whole body, Ms. Kane. And whatever you say, I think you know more about love than most people.”
Kyle thought she knew about love? Inside her heart the persistent flicker of admiration she always felt for him flared into a full-fledged flame. But Sara didn’t know how to respond. If she wasn’t careful, his kindness would coax her into confessing the ugliness of her past and then he’d see that she wasn’t any of those things he’d said.
“You don’t believe me,” he said in a flat tone.
She smiled at him then turned to gaze over the water and said, “You said you used to kayak. Can’t you do that anymore?”
“No.” No room for explanation there.
“How do you know?” She didn’t flinch under his glare. “I just wonder how you can be so sure you can’t do it if you haven’t tried. Did you sell your kayak?”
“No. But I intend to.” His jaw thrust out as he stared straight ahead. “The past is over, Sara.”
“Perhaps. But it seems to me that you’re giving up too easily on the future.” She knew he didn’t want to hear that, but he didn’t say anything so she kept speaking. “I read about Zodiacs. Maybe you could use one of those. What is it, anyway?”
“A kind of inflated boat,” he said with a frown.
“I saw this in the grocery store.” She pulled a pamphlet from her pocket. “It’s a Zodiac ride to see the belugas. I’m going to do that as soon as I save up enough money.”
“You’ll have to do it before fall,” he told her. “They migrate south and the river freezes.”
“Then I will,” she assured him. “I am going to do that.”
They sat shoulder to shoulder in a companionable silence for a long time.
“I should get going.” Sara loathed ending the time she’d spent with Kyle. She’d never had a friend to talk to like this, but tomorrow morning would come early and for as long as she was here, she had no intention of shirking her job. She hesitated to offer her help, wondering if Kyle felt less manly when she did. “How did you get here?” she asked instead.
“I wondered when you’d ask.” Kyle’s eyes sparkled. “I have transport. Over there.” He pointed and she saw a giant yellow machine. “It’s my old ATV. Tony helped me get it running. Now I can get around on my own.” His face changed. “At least until the snow flies. Or until I sell the house.”
“Will that happen soon?” She couldn’t help the flutter of worry that Kyle would leave before he realized he still had a lot to give to Churchill, before he realized he didn’t have to leave here to have a future.
Or was she worrying that he would leave before she did?
“I’ve had two showings but so far no sale.” He walked beside her across the beach. “Two more days and school will be out for the summer. Then what will the boys do?”
“They’ll have summer school, but I don’t know what else Laurel has planned.” Sara pushed her bicycle toward Kyle’s ATV. “She wants to teach them more about Churchill but she hasn’t been here long enough to really know the history.”
“They can see Canada Day celebrated in true Churchillian style on the first of July.” Kyle leaned one hip against his machine. “They’ll learn a lot about this place from that.”
“Are there fireworks?”
“We don’t have fireworks in summer. It’s too bright at night. We save them for New Year’s Eve.” He grinned as if he remembered happier times. Then his face changed. “Any news about your dad, Sara?”
“No.” Sara tried to
hide her worry. “I found a couple of sites but I think they refer to someone else with the same name.”
Why can’t I find him, Lord? Don’t You want me to have a family to love?
Over and over Sara had reassured herself with Scripture that God is a God of love, that He wants the best for His children. But in spite of that, doubt had begun to root.
She glanced at Kyle’s house and thought again of the sweet family he’d been given, of the love that had filled his home and his youth. Why couldn’t she have that?
“I could take a look now,” Kyle offered. “If you want.”
“I’d like that.” She had to duck her head to hide her delight at spending more time with Kyle.
“Let’s go.” His grin made his scar less noticeable. At Kyle’s nod Sara began pedaling up the gravelly incline and onto the street. She rode back to Lives, conscious of the sputtering motor behind her.
When they pulled into the yard, the boys ended their basketball game and crowded around Kyle’s machine, inundating him with questions.
“One at a time.” He made a point of telling the boys to ask Tony their questions, since he was the one who’d helped him fix the ATV.
As Sara watched the proud boy stretch taller, a tiny thrill rushed through her. Kyle’s generosity proved he was a man who cared, whether or not he acknowledged it.
“Got anything for snacks, Sara?” the oldest boy, Barry, asked. “We’re starving.”
“As usual.” She grinned. “I made fresh doughnuts this afternoon. I hid them in the oven. Help yourself.” She looked at Kyle. “I suppose you want some, too?”
“Fresh doughnuts?” He nodded vigorously. “I definitely want some.”
“Hot chocolate and doughnuts,” Sara confirmed. “Let’s go.” She hurried inside, prepared the cocoa then sat at the table, relishing the laughter and teasing. This was what she longed for—her own home, her own family.
Finished, the boys thanked her, cleaned up then headed to their rooms. Kyle had disappeared, too, but when she carried her mug of tea into the computer room, she found him studying Rod’s website.
“What do you think of it?” she asked.
