“Andrew,” Melissa said, her voice almost a plea. “You can’t possibly think you don’t deserve her. You’re the most wonderful, loving, generous man I’ve ever known.”
Deeply touched, Andrew muttered, “You say that because I’m your brother. And because you don’t know what’s in my heart.”
“But God’s love covers all of that. Andrew!” Her voice cracked, and there were tears in her eyes.
Andrew couldn’t stand that he’d made her cry. He came around the desk and gave her hug.
***
After supper, he drove aimlessly around town. Despite himself, he ended up on the block of the house he knew Helen rented.
He sat behind his wheel and stared at the little bungalow, hoping she wasn’t deeply hurt about the manuscript.
She didn’t know the whole story, and Andrew couldn’t bring himself to tell her about it, but he’d never wanted her to be hurt.
He’d thought maybe she would be angry—and that would have been just as well. But being hurt seemed to imply she’d come to trust him.
He wondered if she had.
He felt the unbearable need to get out of his car, knock on her door, and make sure she was all right. To apologize for going to the Dean without letting her know. And have her smile at him again, forgive him.
He was sure she would.
But he didn’t get out. He was stuck. Stuck in everything. He just couldn’t bring himself to take the next step.
A tap on the passenger side window sent his heart into his throat. He rolled down the window to see Pastor Jack peering in with a smile.
Andrew was mortified. Caught mooning at a girl’s house by her father.
Just a couple of months ago, he’d thought his life was so comfortable and secure. Coming home had blown off all the doors of his life.
“Evening,” Jack said pleasantly. “I was bringing some supper over to Helen. Did you want to come in?”
Recovering from his startled embarrassment, Andrew said, “No. Thank you.” Even though going in was exactly what he wanted to do.
Jack gave him a kind look that was also infinitely wise. “Just kind of treading water out here?”
Andrew couldn’t suppress a dry laugh at how apt the description was. “Yeah.”
“Remember I offered a hand. I hoped you’d come by to see me a couple of weeks ago. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow—say around eleven o’clock.”
Put on the spot, Andrew thought over his schedule. “All right. That would be fine.”
Jack smiled again and was about to back away when he changed his mind.
Leaning forward again, he said one more thing. “Don’t think you’re a stranger, Andrew. I knew you as a boy, remember? You were never easygoing like Geoffrey or wildly spontaneous like Michael. You always thought things through before you acted. And sometimes it took you a while to put everything together, since you always saw more depth and complexity in the world than other boys. But once you made a decision, I’ve never known anyone—anyone—who could make things happen like you could. Don’t sell yourself short. Just try to be patient. Give yourself enough time to let God work.”
Then, as if his words hadn’t just slammed into Andrew’s heart, Jack straightened up. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven. I better get in to Helen now. She’s feeling a little under the weather today.”
Chapter Eight
On Saturday morning, Helen sat in her father’s kitchen and ate cereal glumly. He’d just refilled his coffee mug and stepped over to top off Helen’s.
“I don’t know how you can defend him after what he did to me,” she said at last, after having mulled over her father’s last comment.
He raised his eyebrows in a familiar skeptical look. “I realize you were hurt. All I said was that you don’t yet know the whole story.”
“What else is there of the story? He went to the Dean behind my back and blew the library’s chances of getting the manuscript. If the library can’t raise its offer, Thomas will never sell it to us. What else about the story do I need to know?”
“You don’t know his discussion with the Dean. You don’t know his motives for going to the Dean. You don’t know how he’s feeling about it now.”
Helen made a face. “Am I supposed to believe he’s wracked with guilt?” She thought about that for a moment and, despite herself, felt an irrepressible flare of hope. “Do you think he feels bad about it? Did he seem guilty when you talked to him on Wednesday?”
“Helen.” The one word was a warning and a reproach both.
She let out a frustrated sound and swallowed down a large sip of her coffee. “Sorry. I know. You can’t talk about your sessions.”
“Andrew Cane is a complicated man. And I think you might try to look past your hurt feelings to see what’s really going on.”
Helen instinctively understood the truth in her father’s words, but she wasn’t sure she could take the advice. Every time she thought about what Andrew had done, she felt too hurt and betrayed to dwell on it anymore. Rational or not, her feelings were too raw to set aside in order to think things through logically.
But she also didn’t want to disappoint her father. “I know he’s struggling with his faith,” she said last, her voice a little thready. “Not whether or not he believes but whether or not he can claim the commitment. But I don’t know what that could possibly have to do with the manuscript.”
“It might not have anything to do with it.”
Taking another deep breath, she continued, “And I know he’s at the edge of his rope with his sister. I mean, worrying about her and trying so hard to take care of her. But that doesn’t have to do with the manuscript either.”
“It might not. Go on.”
“Go on to what? I don’t know how he feels about everything else.”
“Don’t you? How do you think he feels about you?”
“Dad!”
Her father’s expression didn’t change. He just eyed her levelly and said, “Helen, you’re not a little girl anymore. Tell me.”
Women were supposed to mature as they got older and not feel all bewildered and aflutter about men, but Helen still felt like a girl a lot of the time.
She wondered if everyone did.
In movies and television, worldly women acted cool and blasé about relationships, but every woman Helen knew still got in a tizzy about a budding relationship—no matter her age or maturity level.
She tried to take some comfort in that. Maybe her tumultuous feelings weren’t just because she was so inexperienced with men.
Her dad was trying to help, and he was so much wiser than she was. So she forced down the embarrassment. “I don’t know exactly. We didn’t like each other at first, but I thought we were becoming friends.”’
“And you think that has changed?”
“Of course, it has changed,” she snapped. “Look what he did.”
“Again, you’re assuming you know exactly what happened and why it happened. Why would he have asked you to go on the hike today if he wasn’t still your friend?”
“He asked for his sister. Melissa wanted to go and wanted me to go with them. He would do anything to make her happy, even hang out with someone he despises.”
He got up and put his empty coffee cup in the sink and then picked up Helen’s empty cereal bowl. “You think he despises you?”
“No,” she admitted, letting out a thick sigh. It would almost be nice to think he despised her—at least those were strong, real feelings. “I think I’m irrelevant to him.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Do we have to have this whole inquisition this morning?” she complained, rubbing her fingertips over the back of her scalp. She’d braided her hair into two long braids in preparation for the hike, but now it felt like the braids were pulling on a few hairs with nagging prickles of pain.
“You’re the one who came over to talk. Now tell me why you think you’re irrelevant to him.”
“Because that’s
how he acted. I thought maybe he was starting to like me a little, but then he put the manuscript before me.”
“You’re assuming—“
“Don’t tell me I’m assuming I know the whole story. I know enough.”
“What do you know?”
Helen stared down that the kitchen table, where she’d spilled a dribble of milk from her bowl.
“Helen?”
She didn’t answer. Just pictured Andrew’s face and felt a familiar wave of helplessness.
“Tell me.” His voice cracked out like a whip. “Why do you think you’re irrelevant?”
Her eyes flew up to his face. She knew her father well enough to predict the final destination of his sharp series of questions. “You can’t think…You aren’t suggesting that he…that he could possibly…” She trailed off weakly, unable to even shape the words. “Don’t even imagine such a thing,”
Her father’s face changed. “Helen, I think you’re the prettiest, smartest, sweetest, most wonderful woman alive. I can’t imagine why every man in the world isn’t in love with you. Why shouldn’t I imagine such a thing?”
A surge of emotion rose up into her throat and her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her middle and squeezed herself, as if she could hold it at bay. “Oh, Dad.”
For the first time, his voice broke as he spoke. “I know I get annoying and pushy. It’s the only way I know to help. I’m sorry your mom isn’t here to help you sort all this out.”
Helen started to shake. It had been three years, but sometimes she still missed her mother so much she thought the pain would eat her alive. When her father pulled her into a tight hug, she shook against him for a minute, trying to control the tight sobs.
When she felt strong enough to draw back, she smiled up at her dad. “Thanks.”
He looked a little unsteady too, and his voice was gruff as he said, “You better get going or you’ll be late. But think about what I said. And never think that you’re irrelevant. You’re still trying to hide in the shadows.”
“No, I’m not,” she assured him, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m not nearly as shy and insecure as I used to be.”
“I know that. But you still don’t believe any man could fall in love with you.”
She shook herself off as she grabbed a sponge to wipe the dribble of milk off the table. Then she gave her dad a wry smile. “That’s just because no one ever has.”
***
After Helen had gone to the bathroom to check her face and smooth down her braids, she left her dad’s house and walked the few blocks down to the Cane’s.
She’d been tempted to turn down the invitation to go hiking with Andrew and Melissa this morning. She didn’t really want to be around Andrew—afraid of how she would react to either his cool regard or his attempts to pretend nothing had happened.
But she genuinely liked Melissa, and it seemed too heartless to abandon her now. The girl didn’t have any real friends, and Helen wasn’t going to let her down.
So she forced down her nerves and her lingering hurt feelings and summoned a smile as she rang the doorbell.
Andrew answered the door, wearing a gray t-shirt and the same jeans he’d worn in the Harrison attic. “Hi,” he said, his deep eyes scanning her face oddly. Almost as if he were searching for something in her expression.
She made herself hold her initial smile. “Hi. It’s a great day for a hike. Not too cold.”
“Good.” He just stood there and looked at her. Didn’t even step out of the way to let her enter.
Helen managed not to squirm, although she felt horribly self-conscious. She wondered if she looked too silly in the braids. It was the easiest hairstyle for a hike, since her hair always slipped out of a ponytail, but maybe she looked too young and girlish.
Finally, when she couldn’t stand anymore more of Andrew’s intent, searching look, she asked, “I was surprised Melissa wanted to go on a hike.”
“Me too,” he admitted, stepping back and gesturing her in at last. “We’re just going up the mountain here. It’s all on our property so we won’t run into any strangers. But still, I think it’s a big step.”
They found Melissa in the sunroom at the back of the house. She was dressed for hiking in jeans, sneakers, and a flannel shirt worn open over a t-shirt, but she was curled up on the low sofa, her legs were pulled up to her chest, and her eyes were big and anxious.
“I told you she wouldn’t be late,” Andrew told his sister in a friendly voice.
Helen cut her eyes over to him in surprise, feeling odd that he’d evidently been talking about her, even on such an innocuous topic.
“Hi,” Melissa said, her voice slightly shaky. “I like your shirt.”
Helen glanced down at herself. She was wearing her favorite jeans, worn enough to be soft and comfortable, and a long sleeve white shirt under a pink retro t-shirt with a picture of Queen Victoria on it. “Thanks,” she said, giving Melissa a smile. “Thanks for asking me to go.”
Melissa nodded and looked nervously from Andrew to Helen.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked gently.
Melissa nodded. But then she pulled her legs closer to her chest.
Helen and Andrew stood patiently for a minute, waiting for Melissa to get up.
Finally, she said, her face twisting slightly. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can go. I thought I could, but now…” She trailed off, her expression almost wrenching.
“It’s fine,” Andrew assured her, coming over to put a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Don’t feel guilty if it’s too much.”
“I think it is,” she whispered. “But I feel bad because we were all planning to go.”
“It’s no problem,” Helen said cheerfully, feeling almost relieved that she wouldn’t have to spend so much time with Andrew. “We can just hang out here if you want.”
“Oh no!” Melissa straightened up and stared at them anxiously. “You guys should still go. I would feel terrible if I messed up your whole day with my silliness.”
“No, no—” Helen began, feeling prickles of worry at the back of her neck.
“We’re not going to leave you behind,” Andrew said at the same time.
“Please go,” Melissa begged, obviously at the edge of her control. “I’ll feel miserable if you don’t. Please.”
Helen’s belly twisted, knowing she was about to be trapped. There was no way to get out of this without hurting Melissa and directly rebuffing Andrew.
His face looked wary and guarded as he said slowly, “It’s up to Helen. If she doesn’t want to go, we can hardly pressure her into it.”
“But she wanted to go! That’s why she’s here. Didn’t you want to go?”
The room blurred momentarily in front of Helen’s eyes, but there was no way for her to back out now. “Yeah. I guess. I guess we can go without you, if it’s that important.”
“Oh, thank you! I won’t feel like such a baby if you guys at least can still go.”
Helen tried not to dwell on taking a long hike alone with Andrew. They talked for a few minutes, and Melissa made Andrew promise to take Helen up to the waterfall on the top of the mountain. Then Andrew picked up the loaded backpack from the floor.
“Ready?” he asked Helen, his expression set and unreadable.
“Yeah.”
Since the house was built at the foot of the mountain they were going to climb, all they had to do was walked through the yard and along the edge of the woods until they got to a trail.
“I’ve hiked up here hundreds of times,” Andrew said casually, as they started into the shade of the woods. “It’s about an hour up to the top.”
“That should be fine.” Helen was in pretty good shape, so the hike itself didn’t worry her. But more than two hours alone with Andrew was enough to make her hands shake in anxiety.
What on earth would they talk about?”
“Sorry Melissa had to back out,” he said after a minute. He was walking in front of her on the narrow trail, but he
glanced over his shoulder as he spoke. “I thought it might be too good to be true.”
“Yeah. At least she wanted to, though. That’s probably a good sign.” She tried to look at the trees around them so she wouldn’t have to focus on Andrew’s broad shoulders and strong back in his thin t-shirt. “You didn’t have to take me up, you know, once Melissa changed her mind.”
“It’s fine. It’s a good day for a hike. And Melissa wasn’t going to give up once she got it into her mind that we should go alone.”
A nagging question played in Helen’s mind at his words. She batted it around until she could no longer contain it. “You don’t think she…she planned this whole thing, do you?” Her cheeks reddened after she spoke the words and hoped he would think it was from the walk.
Looking back at her again with an odd expression in his eyes, he replied, “I was wondering. I don’t think she would have plotted this whole thing out from the beginning. But once she realized she couldn’t go, I wouldn’t put it past her to use that opportunity to get us to…” he trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right words.
Helen knew exactly what he meant. “She can’t possibly think that you and I…”
Andrew was looking forward toward the trail in front of him as he said, “There’s no telling what she’s thinking.”
The idea that Melissa was trying to fix them up—or at least trying to get them to reconcile after the unspoken conflict with the Dean and manuscript—made Helen feel horribly awkward and embarrassed.
She hoped she hadn’t given any signs of being interested in Andrew. She’d never considered herself the kind of woman who threw herself at any man, no matter how much she might want him, and she didn’t like the idea of anyone believing she had an interest in a man as unattainable as Andrew Cane.
Surely Melissa didn’t think… And Andrew didn’t think…
Helen pored over her memory of every interaction she’d had with him. Surely she hadn’t acted like she was flirting with him or harboring a secret interest. Her cheeks burned at the memory of laughing with him so fatuously as they’d rolled out that rug, and she wanted to shrink with embarrassment as she recalled her response when he’d caught and held her in the Harrison attic.
No Shadow (Prodigal Sons of Cane) Page 9
