by Delia Latham
Mitch gnawed at his bottom lip as a fog of distance clouded his eyes. Lexi was becoming too familiar with his expressions. This was one he wore while deep in thought, and it warmed her heart to know he gave serious consideration to her concerns. Only her mother had ever cared enough to really listen when Lexi talked, and she desperately missed that aspect of their relationship.
“Have you prayed about it, Lexi?” Mitch’s deep voice penetrated her fretful reverie. “God is well able to give you the desire of your heart.”
She laughed—a short, bitter bark that hurt her ears. “I’m pretty sure God has forgotten me. Not that I blame Him. I haven’t been much of a Christian.”
Mitch tucked a finger under her chin and urged it upward, forcing her to look at him.
“Lexi.” He paused and tilted his head. “Are you listening? Because I need you to really hear what I’m saying.”
She nodded, not missing his deliberate echo of her own words.
“God has not forgotten you. He never will. He loves you, and wants you to be happy.”
“He sure could’ve fooled me.”
Long fingers grazed her jawline then slid to the back of her neck. Mitch’s other hand moved to her face and burned a trail from temple to chin. Lexi closed her eyes and held her breath, terrified by the flurry of emotions his touch elicited.
So ridiculous. The man tried to be nice to her, and she turned it into something personal. She forced herself to open her eyes and look at him.
He lifted one side of his lips in a slightly crooked smile that warmed his eyes and played havoc with her heart. Already she looked forward to seeing Mitch on Fridays, and found herself finding ways to bring out that little-boy grin.
He touched her cheek again…more firmly this time, a subtle request for her attention, and warmth flooded her face. Had he felt the caress in her gaze?
“It wasn’t God who put you through all those years of abuse and neglect, Lexi. Todd did that.”
She nodded and looked away. “I—I know that.”
His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side, never looking away from her face. “Do you? Because it kind of sounds like you blame God.”
She lifted one shoulder. She kind of did blame God. He could’ve prevented all those wasted years.
“Don’t, sweetheart. Don’t blame your ex’s stupidity and cruelty on the One who loves you most. Your husband exercised the free will God gave him. It isn’t our Father’s fault that Todd abused that blessing.”
In her heart of hearts, she knew he was right. Mama had taught her about such things from early childhood, and there’d been a time in Lexi’s life when she had a measure of faith.
A long time ago.
“Maybe so, but I’m not feeling inclined to ask Him for anything right now.”
Her gaze flicked to her mother, who snored softly in her sleep. She looked so peaceful, so pretty. Lexi shuddered with the knowledge that Mama’s sweet face masked a mind disconnected from reality and robbed of every memory that made her the lovely woman she’d been.
Mitch gave her hand a squeeze and leaned forward. “Well, then I’ll talk to Him for you. And I’ll believe for you, too, until you can do it for yourself.” His low voice soothed her heart like a balm, even as it sent a pleasant tingle down her spine.
****
Sleep eluded Lexi that night.
The last few years had dealt her a number of hard blows.
First, Todd left with his newest plaything. Her husband had been dictatorial, derisive, and insulting. The two of them rarely spoke except when he found something else to criticize, or when he’d been drinking…and then the criticism escalated to bullying and abuse.
But he was her husband, and Lexi had tried to be a good wife. Eventually, she started to believe his unkind treatment was what she deserved and constantly sought new ways to glean his approval—or at least a lessening of disapproval. She learned how to please him, and judiciously avoided behaviors he didn’t like because they earned swift retribution. Her days became a relentless obstacle course of saying and doing and being who Todd thought she ought to be, even after he started none-too-discreetly spending time with other women.
Seeking her husband’s approval had become her whole life, and Lexi didn’t know how to live any other way. His abandonment left her reeling, but she’d accepted that blow with rigid fortitude, and refused to cry.
Then she’d been forced to watch her mother’s once-razor-sharp mind deteriorate…slowly at first, little things here and there that hinted at something not quite right. A period of several months brought increasing episodes of disorientation and confusion, until only a shell of the wonderful person Lexi knew and loved remained. Eventually, she had no choice but to release her beloved parent into the care of others.
Through it all, she allowed herself not a single tear.
But during this long night, she could no longer deny their release. At first nothing more than an irritating sting as she lay staring into the darkness, a torrent of moisture soon burst from her eyes in a steady, unstoppable stream, leaving the pillowcase wet and her heart raw.
It wasn’t God who put you through all those years of abuse and neglect. Todd did that.
Mitch’s voice pounded through the defensive walls she’d worked so hard to build. The truth in his simple statement slammed her soul. How could she have been such a fool? Who stays in a relationship that isn’t a relationship for two entire decades? What kind of weak woman allows herself to be so blatantly mistreated and continues to seek the approval of her abuser?
You stopped seeking Me.
She stiffened. Deep in her soul, cold ashes of memory stirred a recollection of the still, small voice that now whispered into her heart.
“I’ll believe for you, until you can do it for yourself,” Mitch had said. Had his faith brought God back to her?
I was here all the time.
“Oh, God!”
I will never leave you, beloved child. I’ll never forsake you.
Why hadn’t she seen it before? Everyone needs something or someone to lean on. Even the strongest of human beings yearn for approval. Why had she walked away from the One who loved her just as she was only to spend heartbreaking years—almost a lifetime—trying to re-create herself for a man who never pretended to care?
Great billowing waves of shame slammed Lexi’s heart with devastating force. A hoarse sob scraped her throat. She slid off the bed and fell, moaning, onto her knees. Cat stirred, turned her sleek body around once, and then curled up and went back to sleep.
For a long time, Lexi’s tears flowed unchecked, soothing her wounded heart, easing the awful, pent-up pain. When the harsh sobs finally slowed and breathing became less painful, she swiped at her dripping cheeks with both hands and started talking.
“Father! Oh, Father! I’m so sorry I walked away.”
A gentle warmth encircled her shoulders—softer than any touch she could have imagined.
Lexi went still. Then, with a sigh, she relaxed into the hug from Heaven, letting it seep into her soul as God cleansed away all the grime of the past and replaced her walled-up, damaged heart with a new one—one without the ugliness of a self-made fortress.
A heart open to the healing power of His love.
5
Mitch stepped into room seven in time to see Lexi tuck a small cuddle-doll into her mother’s arms. He stood in the doorway, quietly watching her hover around the older woman’s chair.
She brought some small present on every visit. During their last conversation, he had asked her about it.
A soft flush of color pinked her cheeks as she lowered her eyelids and pinched her bottom lip between her teeth. “Each time I see her, I try to bring something that correlates with a special memory that is lost to her now, one that I still treasure for both of us. I keep hoping to trigger some kind of response.” Her eyebrows drew together, and full lips parted slightly over a weary sigh. “I know it’s silly to hope for something so unlikely
to happen.”
He had assured her that faith, in whatever form it took, was never silly. Recalling that conversation now, he understood the little tableau being enacted now between mother and daughter.
“You’ll love her, Mama. She’s Little Lexi, just like I used to be.” Reaching out, Lexi tucked a strand of limp gray hair behind her mother’s ear. “She’ll want to sleep in your bed, like I always did. Remember?” She picked up one of the elderly woman’s wrinkled hands and absently massaged it as she talked. “I’d sneak into bed with you and Daddy when I was frightened. Oh, Mama, it felt so wonderful when you’d snuggle me close. I always fell right to sleep with your arm around me, because I knew no matter how big or bad or scary the monster, you’d never let it hurt me.”
Lexi studied her mother’s face, hope and longing etched into her own.
Watching Mrs. Martin’s face, Mitch caught his breath when a spark of something almost lucid flashed in her faded eyes. Then it was gone. She tucked the doll against her shoulder and set her rocker into gentle motion. A tiny smile lifted the corners of her lips, and she began to hum. He recognized the soft melody of a familiar lullaby.
Lexi bowed her head and Mitch heard a little sniffle and then a quiet, strangled sob.
Two long strides took him to her side and, acting on pure instinct, he pulled her into his arms. Upon contact with her slim form, a whoosh of air exploded from between his lips, and he nearly buckled beneath a sudden onslaught of emotional pain—Lexi’s pain, he somehow knew—and it stabbed his heart with a force that radiated throughout his entire being.
Dear God, how does she bear it? Please, help her!
Lexi raised a wide, drenched gaze to his. For a moment, Mitch was sure she’d pull away. Instead, she whimpered and melted into his arms. “I want her to hear me! I need to know she hears me, Mitch.”
“Shhh…” His chin grazed the top of her head, and the tantalizing fragrance of coconut shampoo teased his nostrils. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, still struggling through the ache in his soul. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
Completely aside from the emotional impact their closeness elicited, the strength of his body’s response to her nearness shocked him. His heart thundered against his ribcage, and he couldn’t seem to catch a proper breath. Lexi fit against him like a hand in a glove…perfectly, as if she’d been created solely for the purpose of being in his arms.
Then it was over. Lexi straightened and drew back. “I’m sorry.” She sniffled and stepped away to snatch a couple of tissues from a nearby box. “Once in a while, it just feels like too m—” She broke off and sucked in a hitching breath. “Too much. I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”
Mitch shook his head, watching her almost visibly pull herself together. “Honey, it’s all right. It is too much sometimes.” He stepped close to her, not missing the little gasp she tried to smother, and tucked a finger under her chin. Gently, he nudged it upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. “It’s okay to let someone else be strong sometimes. You can lean on me, Lexi. I want to help you through this.”
“I—” Stark terror flitted across her face. Her frightened gaze slid away, then back to his. “I can’t—I…” Another of those heartbreaking half-sobs made it past her trembling lips. “I don’t know how.”
“You don’t have to know how.” He bent and touched his lips to her forehead. “Just trust me. I’m here for you.”
She hesitated and then lifted one hand. Her fingertips grazed his lips, soft as butterfly wings, burning her touch into his skin. “I think I—” Barely a whisper. She paused, and her gaze roamed his face, leaving a fiery, tingling trail across his skin. “I want to trust you. I’m trying. I really am.”
****
Back at Heart’s Haven that night, Lexi popped the tab on a can of soda and poured it over the ice cubes in her favorite glass, then set it on a small tray alongside a turkey sandwich and a cup of tomato soup.
Cat appeared from wherever she’d been hiding and voiced a non-stop series of plaintive meows.
“Well, hello there.” Lexi picked up the animal and snuggled her briefly, which was all the haughty feline would ever allow. She had put food and water down for the cat before carrying her own tray into the tiny living room and placing it carefully on the center sofa cushion. With a weary sigh, she settled in next to it.
Even as she picked up the remote and hit the power button, her mind replayed the scene at Rosewood again. She’d thought of nothing else all day.
With each mental rewind, those heart-stopping moments with Mitch grew less sweet and comforting and became altogether intimidating. The news anchor’s voice on her television made a background buzz that she barely noticed at first. But by the time she gave up on forcing another bite past the tightness in her throat, the smiling woman seemed to be directing a loud, shrill commentary directly at her. “Alexa Carlisle, remember how badly it hurt. Remember the taunting, the controlling, the insults, and abuse. You cannot let another man into your life. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.”
Lexi forced a deep breath, refusing to hyperventilate. “God,” she whispered. “Please…I could use a little help here.”
My precious child.
She blinked. Was she totally losing her mind?
You can trust Me.
“Trust, Lord?” Her only hope lay in believing the voice in her head came from God. Otherwise, all was lost. “That seems to be the word of the day. Mitch wants me to trust him, too, but I don’t think I can. Not yet.”
You can trust Me.
A knock at her door sent her scrambling to her feet, her heart pounding like a wild thing. She managed to chuckle at her overreaction as she crossed the room to see who had come calling.
Her landlord stood on her front step. The porch light shone on his craggy face, giving it a strange otherworldly glow. Lexi shook off the silly thought and managed a smile she hoped hid the shakiness of her world at that moment.
“Mr. Hart, how nice to see you. Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine, Miz Carlisle. Just fine.” His lips quirked into something resembling a smile, but his white eyebrows were drawn together over a pair of vivid and uncannily discerning blue eyes. With an awkward gesture, he held out a lovely plant bursting with bright red blooms. “Viv wanted you to have this Christmas cactus.”
“Oh, my, it’s gorgeous. I’ll get over there to thank her tomorrow.” Lexi accepted his offering and stepped back. “Would you like to come in while I find a spot for it?”
He nodded and stepped just inside, leaving the door open behind him. Lexi made a show of looking around the small room then swept a book off the coffee table and placed the cactus precisely in the center with an exaggerated flourish. “There. Perfect.” She turned, wondering what had really brought Mr. Hart to her cottage. “Thank you both so much. I love it, and it brings a bit of life to the room, don’t you think?”
“Plants have a way of doin’ that. Miz Carlisle, I—”
“Please. Just Lexi, OK?”
He dipped his chin. “Lexi. I don’t know you real well, but I’m hopin’ you’ll be acceptin’ of what I have to say.”
“Of course, Mr. Hart.” Lexi ignored the ridiculous inclination to run out the door before he could voice whatever message he bore. She indicated the armchair next to the sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”
“Thank you kindly, but I’ll only be a minute. I need to tell you that—well, God’s real happy you’re talkin’ to Him again.”
She wanted to ask how he knew, but couldn’t get her voice to make a squeak, so she nodded. Maybe her eyes weren’t quite as wide as they felt.
Old Hart’s sharp gaze fixed on her face. “Ya know, when ya been hurt, sometimes the hardest thing in the world to do is let yourself trust again.”
That word again. Despite her determination to stay calm, Lexi gasped, and yes…her eyes definitely grew wider. She felt it happen.
“Trustin’ folks can get a bit tricky, and that’s the
truth. Listenin’ to your heart—well, that an’ God’s nudgin’—is just about the only way to know when to do it an’ when not to.” Hart shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but kept his steady gaze on Lexi’s frozen face. “But trustin’ God…now that’s just one o’ those things ya gotta do. ‘Cause He knows, Lexi. He knows all about your past, no matter how ugly or scary it is. It can’t be changed, but God can ease its pain and smooth out the ugly ol’ scars it left behind—if we trust Him, and let Him work in us.”
He paused and stood with his head cocked to the side. When Lexi made no verbal response, he kept talking.
“What’s up ahead now, well, seems to me, we got some choice in that. We can trust the good Lord to make it better than the past, put ourselves in His hands, and let Him take us in a new direction. Or…”
Lexi had given up on trying to make sense of all this. She sank onto the sofa because her trembling legs refused to hold her up another second, but she never looked away from Hart’s lined face. And now she discovered her voice worked again. “Or?”
A slight softening of his lips told her he was pleased with her response, minimal though it was.
“Or we can insist on keepin’ control o’ the reins, and risk takin’ ourselves down another wrong road.” Hart winked, shocking Lexi right to her core. “‘Course, that’s our choice. God won’t take over unless we let Him. He’s ever’ inch the gentleman, ya know.”
“A gentleman.” Lexi wasn’t sure her murmured response was even audible, but Hart nodded.
“Yep. That He is.” He straightened, and broke the eye contact he’d maintained since he first started talking.
Lexi pulled in a grateful breath. Had she held it all that time?
“Well, Miz Carlisle—uh, Lexi…Viv’ll be wonderin’ what’s keepin’ me. I guess I oughta get on back to the big house.” He nodded toward the plant on her table. “Just give it a little water ever’ other day or so, an’ it’ll stay nice for ya.”
