She knew her feelings for Andrew were confused and hardly indifferent, but she didn’t think she’d let that show. She’d known all along how hopeless it was, which was why she’d tried so hard not to entertain any such feelings.
She had to be so, so careful. With her heart and with her behavior.
They walked for a long time in silence.
Helen enjoyed hiking—the physical activity, the time out in nature, and the adventure of treading on rocks, tree roots, and packed ground to reach a final destination. She made herself loosen her hold on her worries and embarrassment. She could enjoy the day, as long as she was careful about how she acted with him.
They hiked for a half-hour, Andrew only speaking to point out some unusual birds or local plants. She started breathing more quickly from the exercise, and her cheeks reddened from the breeze and exertion. She couldn’t help but admire Andrew as he hiked. He was a strong, powerful man, and he looked at home in the woods—his steps sure and his eyes quick and observant. He seemed like such a businessman that she was almost surprised by his ease in nature.
There was something compelling and natural about him out here—something that held her gaze and captivated her. No sense in trying to talk herself out of it. She was deeply attracted to him. No doubt about it.
But she would be careful. Not let him know. And not let it lead her to any more dangerous thoughts. She would only get hurt again. Even more.
“Do you need a rest?” he asked, after a long stretch of silence.
“I’m okay.” Her breathing was fast but she felt pretty comfortable. “I don’t spend all my time reading, you know.”
He paused so she could catch up with him and lifted his dark eyebrows as he looked down at her. “I never thought you did. You seem to be in really good shape.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, dropping her eyes, telling herself to be sensible.
“There’s a good spot up here to look down,” he said, starting to walk again, this time beside her as the trail widened and the trees thinned out. “You can see all of Cane.”
She walked with him to a break in the forest where the trail curved around the side of the mountain. There was a rock overhang that allowed a view of the full expanse of the valley. They stood and stared down at the little town sprawled out in the bowl of the valley.
“There’s my house,” she said, feeling a silly delight over spotting it from above. “And there’s the church.”
Andrew pointed down and to the right. “And there’s my home.”
Something about the way he said the words made her turn to look at him. His face was still guarded—as it had been all day—but she wondered what he was thinking. Wondered if he truly thought of his childhood house as his home. Wondered if he was glad he’d come back.
He slanted a look over at her, catching her stare. Something in his expression changed. “You’re angry with me.”
She made a brief sound of objection in her throat, too startled to form a coherent answer.
“You’re acting normal. And you’re always polite. But you’re angry.”
Helen stared down into the valley, toward the college where she could easily pick out the library building.
His voice was low and slightly rough. “I didn’t pressure the Dean to give up the purchase of the manuscript, if that’s what you think.”
She gasped, and her eyes flew up to his face.
He gazed at her, as if he couldn’t look away, even though he kind of wanted to. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t have done that. I know I have a certain amount of influence in this town, but I’d never use it for reasons like that.”
“So what did you do, then?” she asked, startled when her voice sounded so needy.
“I told him some of the plans I had for the manuscript. That’s all.”
“What plans?”
“It’s too early to say.” He looked briefly uncomfortable, and she had no idea why. “I figured you’d be annoyed because I did it without talking to you first, but I don’t have all the information yet so talking to you would have been premature. I certainly never thought I would hurt you.”
She felt a sudden flare of anger and defensiveness. His words sounded convincing, but she’d been genuinely hurt. “Why wouldn’t it have hurt me? How could I not be hurt? I’d thought…I’d thought…”
His brows drew together and his shoulders stiffened. “What had you thought?”
Her cheeks blazed, and she hoped he’d think it was from her exertion. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten herself into this mess—confessing to him how and why she’d reacted the way she did. “I’d thought we were starting to…to…”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish. The light that had ignited in Andrew’s eyes—almost like hope—was bewildering and exhilarating both.
“Starting to what?” He reached out and put a hand on her chin, forcing her to raise her eyes to meet his.
She took a long, shaky breath. It felt like his fingers on her skin had branded her. “I thought we were starting to be friends.”
Something released itself in Andrew. The shuddering tension relaxed, and his mouth softened into a small smile. “We were. We are, I hope. I didn’t mean to blow it all by going to the Dean as I did. I hope we can be friends.”
She still didn’t know why he’d gone to the Dean or what had been discussed, but her father was obviously right. She didn’t know the whole story, and it sounded like Andrew had never intended it as the act of betrayal she’d taken it for. She let out her own pent breath. “We can. I’d like that.”
They smiled at each other. Although she missed that urgent, compelling light in his eyes she’d seen in the moments before, the comfortable companionship of their mood now was so much easier to deal with.
When he reached a hand out to her to help her climb back up to the trail, she took it, and she didn’t pull hers back immediately. The warm, strong clasp of his hand in hers triggered a swell of warmth and security inside her.
He was a complex man and a conflicted one, but he was also a strong man. A good man. And a man who knew how to protect and cherish those he cared for.
If they were friends—if he cared for her even a little—then she would always be safe with him.
***
Climbing up the mountain trail to the waterfall he’d loved as a boy, Andrew told himself not to be an idiot.
Since he still wasn’t comfortable with pursuing his interest in her, he should really rein in his feelings. On the outcropping just now, he’d been pathetically foolish. For just a moment, he’d thought Helen was about to express some sort of newfound attachment for him. An attachment that went beyond friendship. And he’d wanted to hear it. He’d been so eager he’d felt like shaking the reluctant words out of her.
Which was absolutely ridiculous. He was trying to be careful about how he behaved with her, since he didn’t want to lead her on. But he also shouldn’t lead himself on—let himself entertain feelings about her that he wasn’t allowed to follow through on.
And that was exactly what he’d been doing and what he was determined not to do again.
Until he got himself completely straight with God, friendship was the only thing he was allowed to pursue with Helen. And, even if he managed to figure everything out, she wouldn’t necessarily be a reward for him at the end.
Friendship was best, and it was definitely better than nothing. He was glad she’d believed him about his visit to the Dean and had forgiven him for going behind her back.
The silence between them seemed more comfortable and companionable as they ascended the top half of the mountain. Helen didn’t pull away when he took her hand to help her up a few difficult sections, and she clung to him trustingly at one point when she lost her footing.
She looked so young and pretty in those two long braids that it roused his protective instincts. He tried not to let it go to his head and made sure to release her as soon as the need for his aid was over.
After a while, they sta
rted chatting about their childhoods. He told her about climbing the mountain with his father and brothers as a boy and about how they used to play they were pioneers and adventurers. She sheepishly told him that she’d played library as a child, collecting all the books she could find and organizing them into makeshift shelves.
They were chatting so entertainingly that Andrew was surprised when they reached the last stretch of trail that led to the bluff beneath the waterfall. He reached for her hand automatically to help her up along the loose rocks of the steep path. They’d stopped talking, focusing only on the climb, so the sounds of the mountain surrounded them—the calls of birds, the scuffling of rabbits, squirrels, and groundhogs, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and the cascade of the approaching waterfall.
When they reached the top, Andrew led Helen past the clustering of trees to where a clearing broke out into broad sky. In one direction, a wide vista of the Appalachian Mountains rolled off into the horizon. In the other direction, the mountain continued to ascend, although they were now almost to the top. At a point just above them, a mountain stream fell over a steep drop, forming a waterfall that streamed down a face of rock.
It had always been Andrew’s favorite spot in the world.
He used to come up here as a boy whenever he was upset or confused.
He still held Helen’s hand, couldn’t seem to let it go. She didn’t appear to be conscious of it as she stared around with a kind of breathless awe.
“Wow!” she said at last. “No wonder this is your favorite place.”
He gave her a quick, questioning look. “How did you know it was my favorite?”
“I saw your face.” She smiled at him, and he wondered what she’d seen in his expression.
Then she suddenly blushed and gently retrieved her hand. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled, although it was obviously Andrew’s fault that they’d been holding hands for so long.
“Thanks for taking me up here,” she said, after gazing around for a few more minutes. “It’s like that hymn. ‘Join with all nature in manifold witness to Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.’ You can just feel that this place is worshipping God.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. He wondered if it was significant that she’d mentioned the same hymn that had gotten to him so deeply at church a few weeks ago. He wondered if God was trying to tell him something.
Spiritual answers seemed too slow in coming to him. He tried to take comfort in what Jack had said about him being slower to make decisions than others, but surely it must be some sort of weakness in him that he couldn’t get over this one final hurdle.
He was still missing something. Something he saw reflected in the peace in Helen’s eyes.
Something Andrew had as a boy and wanted desperately again.
“’Morning by morning new mercies I see’,” Helen murmured, her voice as gentle as a caress.
He gasped and jerked his head over to study her, but she was gazing out at the waterfall. Andrew didn’t know if she’d been speaking to him or not. Could she really have read his mind?
When she spoke again, he knew the answer.
She continued, still looking out on his favorite spot in the world, “I think this waterfall, this morning, is one of those mercies.”
Chapter Nine
Trish had packed a light picnic for the three hikers, and Andrew carried it in his backpack. When he’d recovered from the moment with Helen, he suggested they spread out the blanket on the shady grass and eat it.
Helen seemed delighted, and soon they were feasting on bread with cheddar and Gouda, apples, olives, and homemade shortbread cookies. They didn’t talk much as they ate, but the silence was comfortable and soothing rather than awkward.
Andrew had a lot of trouble keeping his eyes off of Helen. She leaned back against a tree, and even in the shade her golden hair and vibrant skin seemed to glow.
There was something about her so fascinating to Andrew. It was like she was shining with an inner light that couldn’t be hidden by her quiet demeanor and sometimes reticent manner.
She glanced over and caught him staring at her, and her cheeks reddened and eyes dropped, entrancing Andrew even more. “Do I have dirt on my face?” she asked, rubbing at her jaw and cheek.
He wondered if she really didn’t know why he was staring at her. “No. You look perfect.” Realizing how fatuous he had sounded, he looked away awkwardly as Helen’s blue eyes flew to his face in surprise.
When he looked back, she smiled at him shyly. “Really?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking he must finally have been obvious enough for her to recognize his deep admiration. “Really.”
Her smile and her cheeks warmed even more, and they stared at each other for a long moment, neither able to look away.
Reminding himself that he’d nobly decided not to pursue a romantic attachment with her, Andrew finally broke off the gaze. She was so sweet and untouched. Not perfect, of course, but she deserved a man who was well-set on the right path and wasn’t conflicted with so many doubts and hesitations.
Seeking a distraction from the moment they’d just shared, he asked her about how much she’d hiked in the area. They chatted about local trails and popular natural spots in this part of the Appalachians, and soon they were able to relax again into companionable ease.
After a while, Andrew stretched out and lowered his head to the blanket, gazing up into a tall pine tree. He pointed toward a branch near the top. “Ever since I was eight years old and climbed up here for the first time, there has been a bird’s nest in that spot.”
Helen reclined back beside him so she could look up in the direction he pointed. “There’s one there now,” she said, sounding delighted by this fact. “I can see the bird too. It’s too bad it’s in the shade. I can’t see it very well.”
“It must be a bird hot spot. Every year, there was a new one.” He closed his eyes and smiled, thinking about how many times he’d come up here as a boy and stared at the bird’s nest. He found something deeply reassuring in the fact that some things just didn’t change.
“You love it here, don’t you?” Helen asked softly.
When he opened his eyes and turned his head, he saw that she was looking at him steadily. “I told you. It was my favorite place in the world.”
“I meant more than that. You love these mountains. You love Cane.”
A sharp emotion twisted in his chest at having to admit it to himself, but he told her the truth. “Yeah. I guess I still do.”
“Why did you leave?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, as if she were afraid of spooking whatever mood the day had conjured between them.
Andrew shrugged and closed his eyes again. He hated to think about that point in his life. It brought up so many painful feelings, so many conflicted memories.
Helen didn’t press the question, although he could feel her still watching him. He didn’t mind her steady scrutiny. It felt gentle, caring, not pushy or intrusive.
After a long stretch of silence, he heard himself saying, “There’s not a clear answer to that.”
“Your brothers left too. Did something happen?”
Did something happen? Andrew almost winced at the question. So much happened. Everything happened. And yet there hadn’t been one thing, like everyone assumed, that had pushed his family into disintegration.
“No. Nothing like that. It was just a…a process. Michael left first—just after he graduated from high school. He was so angry. About a lot of things. He stormed out and never came back.” As he spoke, he stared up at the sky and the tree branches above him, finding it easier not to meet her eyes as he shared part of his background that was always so hard.
But he turned to check her expression after he spoke.
Helen’s face didn’t change, and her eyes were still infinitely gentle. “You don’t hear from him now?”
“The last time we were in touch was after Dad died. He sold out his share of the house and grounds to me. I try
to keep tabs on him—to make sure he’s doing all right. He’s in Seattle. But he’s showed no signs wanting to mend fences.”
Her lips parted, and Andrew could almost hear her next question. Why? What made Michael so angry? To his relief, she didn’t ask it. Instead, she murmured, “Geoffrey left next, I think.”
“Yes. Geoff left about six months later. He was a sophomore in college, and he fell in love and wanted to get married. She wasn’t a Christian, and Dad thought he was too young anyway. He kept trying to talk Geoff out of it.”
“They fought?”
Andrew thought back. “Not really. I mean, Geoff just won’t fight. He’s not intense and fiery like Michael, and he’s not even like me.”
“Hard-headed and infuriating?” Helen asked, her voice teasing and almost intimate.
Andrew softened into a smile. “Right. Geoff has always been really laidback, almost to the point of laziness. We were all amazed that he made it through medical school so successfully, since he never worked very hard growing up. But the thing about Geoff is that, once he sets his mind to something, he’s immovable. He doesn’t fight. He just ignores all obstacles. I can’t tell you how much that enraged Michael and I growing up. He wouldn’t fight with us—no matter what we did to provoke him. He just wouldn’t change his mind. That’s how he’s had such a successful career. He just plows through on the path he decides on, no matter what threatens to hold him back.”
“So once he decided he wanted to get married…” Helen prompted.
“He just did it, no matter what anyone else said. Dad had never threatened to disown him or anything, but he gave him such a hard time that Geoff just stopped coming home.”
“What was Geoff’s wife like?”
He realized that Helen must know about Geoff’s wife’s death, since she used the past tense. “She was pretty and sweet and kind of clingy. I can see why she appealed to him. As I said, she wasn’t a Christian, and Geoff kind of dropped away too eventually.”
He closed his eyes again, torn between taking comfort in sharing all of this with Helen and feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable from opening up in a way he almost never did.
No Shadow (Prodigal Sons of Cane) Page 10
