by Myra Johnson
Following his uncle to the pickup, Ben offered a tired wave that was little more than the twitch of two fingers. A few seconds later they drove away, and the end-of-trip emptiness in the pit of Marley’s stomach deepened even more. Pitching in with unloading gear and seeing off the college students on their way back to Lubbock distracted her for another couple of hours, but by the time she made it home to her apartment, she barely had the energy to drop her luggage by the door, grab a soda from the fridge and collapse on the sofa.
She’d just dozed off when her cell phone chimed. With a groan, she forced herself upright and snatched the phone from her purse on the coffee table. As soon as she recognized the Missouri area code, she almost pressed the ignore button.
Then, guilt nagging, she answered. “Mom?”
Chapter Thirteen
“No, this is your father.”
Marley sat up straight, dread tightening her stomach. “Is Mom okay?”
“She’s fine, except for trying to reach you several times over the last few days and worrying herself sick.” The slight echo to the phone connection made him sound even more cold and distant. “I’m surprised you even care.”
“Of course I care. I’ve been out of town, with no cell service.” A headache spread behind Marley’s eyes. “She knew I was going on another mission trip.”
Her father grew silent. When he spoke again, exasperation laced his tone. “You’re a businesswoman, Marsha. You need to take your responsibilities more seriously.”
“I take them plenty seriously. But these mission trips are important to me, and—” She would not have this conversation with him. “Anyway, I’m back now.”
“Just so you don’t expect me to bail you out when you can’t pay next month’s rent.”
She cringed, remembering the looming rent increase. “I’ll be fine, Dad.” Somehow.
“Good, glad to hear it.” The edge to her father’s voice eased slightly. “Marsha—Marley—you know your mother and I only want what’s best for you.”
“I know. I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me get established here, and I hope one day I can repay you. But I need you to trust me to manage my business my way.”
“Even when you’re clearly making foolish decisions?”
Marley closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “You can’t have it both ways. You wanted your delinquent daughter out of your life, so I left Missouri and changed my name. It’s about time you gave up trying to control every little thing I do.”
“That isn’t fair—”
“I’m hanging up now, Dad. Give Mom my love and tell her I’ll call after I catch up on some rest.” She turned off her cell and tossed it onto the coffee table.
The headache had grown to monstrous proportions. Marley dug through her purse again for a travel-size bottle of ibuprofen and downed two caplets with the remains of her cola. Flopping back on the sofa cushions, she covered her eyes with one arm and prayed for sleep to take away the pain.
But now, as she replayed the conversation with her father, sleep wouldn’t come. Naturally, he believed his financial investment earned him a say in how she ran her photography business. All the more reason she must make it on her own and find a way to pay him back. She was good, and she knew it. Ben had a point—with the right connections and in a larger city, she could do so much better than small-town portrait photography and the occasional magazine assignment. If she could prove herself successful in her own right, maybe her father would no longer be embarrassed to claim her.
Then reality hit. Sitting up, Marley cradled her head in her hands and recalled all those short-lived promises her father had once made about being a better parent. After Marley’s arrest for shoplifting, then a confrontation in the church parking lot with Pastor Henke and Healy Ferguson, Mom had finally coerced Marley’s father into attending parenting classes. For a while, they all thought Harold Sanderson truly wanted to change.
They couldn’t have been more wrong. As he’d done for as long as Marley could remember, he found it too easy to blame everyone else for his problems. And the old Marsha Sanderson had slipped right back into her rebellious ways.
Thank goodness Pastor Henke and the Fergusons hadn’t given up on her, or she might be rotting in a Missouri jail today, never knowing the peace and hope God’s forgiveness could bring. To this day, though, she regretted the lost opportunity to ask for Tina Maxwell’s forgiveness after the accident, but with Tina’s lengthy rehab and Marley’s journey through the juvenile legal system, they never saw each other again. The next thing Marley knew, Dad had arranged her new identity and relocation to Alpine, and here she intended to stay.
No, she didn’t need fame or recognition or wealth. She’d earned the respect of the local business community, and she had friends who loved her for the person she’d become. Her simple life in Alpine was as good as it got.
* * *
After twelve straight hours of sleep, Ben felt almost human again. He hadn’t realized how physically exhausted he was until Uncle Steve had to shake him awake just to get him in the house after their drive back to the ranch. Aunt Jane practically force-fed him the meatloaf and mashed potatoes she’d fixed for supper, saying he’d sleep better on a full stomach. Then he’d hauled himself to bed and drifted off before the sun went down.
After a shower and shave, Ben wandered into the kitchen, where he found Aunt Jane at the table with a mug of coffee and the morning paper.
She looked up with a gleam in her eye. “Look who the cat dragged in. Can I fix you some breakfast?”
“I can manage.” With a sleepy grin, he took a box of wheat flakes from the cupboard, poured himself a bowl and added a splash of milk. He filled a coffee mug, then carried his breakfast to the table.
Aunt Jane allowed him about two minutes before she peppered him with questions about the mission trip. She wanted to know which projects he worked on, if he met Conchita’s new baby grandson, what he thought of the college students from Tech, if he thought he’d ever go back.
Laughing tiredly, he dropped his spoon and held up both hands. “I haven’t been home a full day yet. Give me time to let it all sink in!”
Aunt Jane’s eyes narrowed as she cast him a knowing smile. “You called this home.”
“Don’t get any ideas. It was only a figure of speech.” Ben scooped up another bite of wheat flakes. While he’d been answering her questions, his cereal had grown soggy. He swallowed with a grimace. “I can’t keep freeloading off you forever. I need to find a job, even if it’s flipping burgers somewhere.”
He was only half-kidding. After his call to Uncle Steve during the drive back yesterday, he’d decided to put off checking email for responses to his résumés. For one reason, he hadn’t wanted to risk disappointment. For another...a positive reply might mean saying goodbye to Marley and any chance they had that their friendship could lead to something more.
Carrying her mug to the sink, Aunt Jane glanced over her shoulder, a sympathetic tilt to her brows. “Steve and I prayed about you the whole time you were away. God knows exactly where He wants you, and it’s going to be a thousand times better than you ever imagined for yourself.”
“I hope you’re right.” Ben rose and set his dishes in the sink, then kissed his aunt on the cheek. “In the meantime, I have some things I need to take care of in town.”
“If you’re worried I’m gonna fuss at you for burying your nose in those internet job sites—”
“God does want me to be proactive, don’t you think?” At Aunt Jane’s sharp glance, he continued, “All right, I admit it. I’d really like to see Marley again.”
Eyes wide and sparkling, Aunt Jane squeezed his hand. “You give her a big ol’ hug from me, okay?”
Oh, he’d like to. Nothing he’d enjoy more.
An hour later, he parked in front of Marley’s studio,
glad to see the Open sign in the window in spite of the ladders and scaffolding. Men in paint-spattered coveralls worked overhead, well along on the refurbishing project.
As he stepped from the Mustang, he glimpsed Marley bustling about inside the studio. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since he’d last seen her, but already it felt like a lifetime. A smart man wouldn’t even be here, knowing how slim their chances were. Yet here he was, and if the jumpy feeling in his belly was any indication, he was about to get a lot stupider.
When Marley saw him through the window, she paused. A look of surprise quirked her brows. Then she smiled and pulled open the door. “Hey, stranger. What brings you back to town so soon?”
He didn’t have a good answer—at least none he could easily voice—so he merely shrugged and meandered inside. His glance took in a couple of new framed prints on the wall. “You took these in Candelaria. I recognize the sunset.”
“After these trips, I can’t wait to go through my photos. It’s like opening presents.” Marley stood beside him and studied the picture. “I love this shot, but it doesn’t begin to compare with the real thing.”
Just like Ben’s thoughts of Marley when they were apart didn’t compare to the reality of being with her. He inched closer, his hand brushing hers. An odd smile twisted her mouth as she slid her gaze toward him.
His mouth went dry. “Marley, this thing between us...believe me, I’m in no hurry for it to end, but...”
“I get it. Your career comes first.” Her forced smile didn’t hide the hurt behind her eyes. Or the hope. She moved behind the counter and continued her unnecessary straightening. “Don’t apologize, Ben. I’ve had fun getting to know you these past few months, and it was great having you on the Candelaria trip. But this isn’t your home—”
That word again: home.
“—and as soon as the holidays are over, I’m sure the perfect job offer will come through, and you can get on with your life.” Marley tossed a pencil into the drawer and slammed it shut—harder than she intended, judging by the startled look on her face.
Ben rested his elbows on the counter, his gaze searching Marley’s. “What if I’m starting to hope that day never comes?”
She sucked in a tiny breath. “What are you saying, Ben?”
“I’m saying it’s getting harder and harder to think about leaving Alpine. Leaving you.” His jaw clenched. He swiveled his head to stare out the front window and recalled the day he’d seen the young family pass by on the sidewalk. “I’ve had my life planned out since college. Launch my career, climb the corporate ladder, establish myself as an indispensable member of the team.” He released a harsh laugh. “Then I found out exactly how dispensable I am.”
“Ben...” Marley reached for his hand.
“I’m not looking for sympathy, just trying to sort everything out.” Without releasing her hand, he moved around the counter until they stood toe-to-toe. With his other hand, he cradled her cheek. “What I’m trying to say is, I never in a million years planned to care this much for you.”
* * *
Marley froze. She couldn’t make her lungs work if she tried. Ben’s palm against her cheek felt hot and cold at the same time.
Eyelids pressed shut, she somehow forced movement into her limbs and took a shaky step backward. When Ben’s hand fell away from her face, it felt as if he’d stolen a part of her. She turned away with a silent sigh. “Please...don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t admit the truth?” Ben’s voice had grown husky. “If I learned anything from everything I’ve experienced lately, it’s that I need to be honest with myself, and with the people I care about.”
Marley dared a glance, though the look in his eyes nearly undid her. “Even when we both know it’s hopeless? I’m here in Alpine. You’ll soon be going...who knows where.”
“Can’t you take pictures anywhere? Why does it have to be Alpine?”
There he went, tempting her again with possibilities she knew in her heart would never be right for her. “You’re not getting it. I love it here. I have my friends, my church, my business...” She shook her head as if he could never understand. “My life.”
Ben’s jaw muscles bunched. “Guess I misread the signals. For a while there, I thought maybe you were starting to feel something for me.”
Leaning against the counter, Marley rested her head in her hands. The tiny gold swirls in the white Formica countertop swam before her eyes. “You didn’t misread anything.”
Two solid arms wrapped around her, drawing her upright. Ben touched his forehead to hers, and she breathed in the musky scent of his aftershave. “Then give us a chance,” he murmured. “The other thing I learned in Candelaria—I guess I should say relearned—is what it means to have faith. For the first time in a long time, I’ve been praying. And I have a real hard time believing God would bring you into my life if He didn’t have a plan to keep us together.”
Fresh tremors of hope surged through Marley—hope for a future she never imagined could be hers. The love of a good man. Someone with whom she could finally and fully share every part of herself, even the past she’d kept private for so long.
When Ben slid his hand behind her head and lowered his mouth to hers, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
It also felt like leaping off a cliff and seeing the ground rushing toward her with no way to stop the fall. Because there was nothing to be done but to give herself over to the rush of emotions. She melted into Ben’s tender kiss as her arms encircled his torso.
“Ahem.”
Only then did the jangle of bells over the front door penetrate Marley’s consciousness. Looking past Ben’s shoulder, she glimpsed Janet Harders, her friend from the antiques shop next door.
Marley edged out of Ben’s embrace and plucked at the hem of her blouse. As she pasted on a nervous smile, she hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Hi, Janet. What can I do for you?”
The dark-haired woman pushed the door closed behind her. “I was hoping to go over some details about this weekend.” Janet would be hosting a family reunion over Christmas and had arranged for Marley to photograph the group. Her smile tilted playfully. “But if this is a bad time...”
“Not at all. Ben and I were just...um...” Tugging at her mussed ponytail, Marley looked to Ben for help, but with arms crossed and head down, he seemed intent on staying out of it. In fact, she was certain she heard him quietly snickering. Marley motioned her friend toward the table in the corner. “Have a seat and I’ll be right with you.”
As Janet made herself comfortable in one of the chairs, Marley returned her attention to Ben, who had sobered somewhat, thank goodness. She didn’t need to be any more rattled than she already was. “I’ll be busy for a while. But we should talk. We could have lunch later.”
“Good idea.” Ben grazed her cheek with a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
As he headed toward the door, Marley could hardly tear her eyes away. Just before he stepped outside, he shot her a lazy grin that sent ripples through her abdomen. By the time she retrieved the Harders file from her office and sat down beside Janet, she’d required more than a few steadying breaths.
With the paperwork spread between them, Marley assumed her most professional tone. “Now, what did you want to discuss about the reunion?”
* * *
At the coffee shop down the street, Ben couldn’t resist checking email to see if his résumés had garnered any responses. Not that he expected anything a week before Christmas, but there they were—not one but two interview opportunities.
Ben’s head reeled. One was for an advertising manager’s position at a textile company in some town he’d never heard of in Wisconsin. Yeah, he could not see himself shoveling snow in January. Besides, the salary range was significantly lower than what he’d earned at hi
s previous job.
The second opening was only slightly more appealing but would require relocating to Seattle. Living clear across the country would make it a lot harder to mend the ties with his family in Houston.
He sipped a cappuccino and stared at his laptop screen while he debated how to respond. Considering these were among the few viable job leads he’d had so far, didn’t he owe it to himself to at least make the interviews? Both had said they could do the preliminaries over Skype. He wouldn’t have to worry about the expense of plane fare unless he made it to the next level.
Just pray about it.
The thought soothed his churning brain like a cool summer rain on parched grass. For the past few years, he’d done little enough praying about his future. Instead, he’d simply charged ahead on his own terms and expected success.
How’s that been working for you? he could almost hear God saying.
He set down his coffee cup and folded his hands under the edge of the table. For all anyone else knew, he was merely deep in thought. Focused on the toes of his sneakers, now several shades grimier that when he bought them, he settled in for a long overdue heart-to-heart with his Maker.
True, he’d dipped his toes in the river of prayer a few times in Candelaria, but the idea of immersing himself in the full power of God made him want to grab for the nearest lifeline. When would he get it into his head that God was his lifeline, and the only one worth holding on to?
His mom had understood this. She lived out her faith every day. But maybe that explained why her sudden death had shattered his own fragile faith. How could you trust a God who allowed an undiagnosed heart problem to take the life of a woman loved and needed by so many?
He knew what his mother would say: “No matter how bad life gets, God never, ever abandons us.” She’d have told him to look for God’s fingerprints in both joy and heartache, because every experience, good or bad, had a beautiful and important life lesson wrapped inside.
Mom’s death, Dad’s remarriage, Ben’s job loss.
