by Irene Hannon
She finished fitting the key into the lock, then half turned, waiting for him to continue. Except he didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to ask her why she was so afraid, but he knew she’d just shut down even more. Yet there was no way he could fight her fear if he didn’t know its source. All he could do at the moment was let her know how he felt.
“Rebecca, I care about you,” he said slowly, deliberately. “I don’t know exactly what went on here tonight, except that I upset you very badly. But I don’t want things to end like this. We need to talk about it. Not tonight, I know, but how about tomorrow, in the daylight, somewhere you feel safe? Just name the place and time.”
Rebecca’s eyes misted again. He was trying, she’d give him that, exhibiting more patience than she had a right to expect after the way she’d rebuffed his embrace, surely denting his ego in the process. But it wouldn’t work. Zach didn’t strike her as a man who was used to waiting, and she knew his patience would quickly wear thin. To continue to see him would only delay the inevitable.
“I’m sorry, Zach,” she whispered, her voice quavering. “It’s no use. But thank you for offering. And for not being angry about tonight.”
“Rebecca, please let me—”
“Goodbye, Zach,” she said, opening the door and slipping inside as she struggled to control the sobs begging for release.
“You’re a very nice man, and I-I’m sorry,” she finished helplessly, her voice breaking as she shut the door with a quiet but decisive click.
Zach stared at the closed door, frowning in confusion and frustration, at a loss for one of the few times in his dating career. He had absolutely no idea how to proceed. But as he turned and slowly made his way to his car, he knew one thing with absolute certainty. He wasn’t going to let this intriguing woman slip out of his life so easily. She might think their relationship was over, but he had other ideas. He hadn’t lied to her about not forcing his attentions on uninterested women. But she was interested, he’d bet his life on it. Whether she was willing to admit it or not, there were good vibrations between them. Certainly on the physical level, despite what had happened tonight. And on other levels as well. At dinner this evening he’d glimpsed a number of fascinating aspects of her personality that left him hungry to learn more. She had wit and charm and a great sense of humor, and he’d delighted in the sound of her carefree laughter, in the way her eyes sparkled in amusement and deepened with conviction as their discussion ran the gamut from old movies to her strong faith.
Zach had met a lot of women in his life. He’d even been halfway serious about a couple. But none of them had ever sparked his interest in quite the way Rebecca Matthews did. Perhaps it was the combination of social innocence and professional savvy; poise and uncertainty; strength and vulnerability. But whatever the reason, something told him that if he walked away, as she’d asked, he’d spend the rest of his life regretting it. Because he had a feeling that Rebecca was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of woman. And he intended to check out that theory.
Now he just had to convince her.
Chapter Six
Zach stared in shock at the message on his computer screen, trying to absorb the words as a cold knot formed in his stomach, then tightened painfully. Katrina was dead.
He closed his eyes and rested his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers. A muscle clenched in his jaw as he slowly exhaled an unsteady breath, his mind in denial. He couldn’t believe Katrina was gone. It just didn’t seem possible. Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe it, he thought bleakly. Because although the news might seem unreal, the words that stared back at him from the screen when he reluctantly opened his eyes were real enough. He forced himself to read Josef’s message again, more slowly this time, finding the content even more jolting—and more final—the second time through.
I do not know how I find the strength to write these words, my friend. Though the outside world goes on around me, my own world seems to have ended. Katrina died two days ago, Zachary. The miscarriage depleted her strength, and infection set in. She was never physically strong, as you know. But she had such inner strength that I thought her light could never be dimmed, that it would always burn brightly to light my way. Yet the Lord has chosen to take her from me, leaving my world in darkness.
I write to you now to request a very great favor. Do you remember the promise we made to each other, Zachary, so many years ago? A promise to help each other should the need ever arise? I hope that you do, my friend, because the time has come when I must make such a request. I do so with full understanding of the burden it will impose. But if you take the sabbatical you mentioned in your last correspondence, perhaps it will not be so difficult.
Things are not good in my country, as you know. They are especially not good right now. I do not care much for myself, but I worry about Isabel. She is all I have left now, Zachary, Katrina’s legacy to me, and I must keep her well. But that is not easy to do. It is no longer even safe for her to go out and play. There are too many random acts of violence and bombings. My work is also putting me at more risk right now. If something should happen to me, I do not know what would become of my precious child. I would turn to my family for help, but my mother is too old and frail to care for her, and my sister can barely put enough food on the table for her own six children.
So, my friend, I ask you from my heart to take Isabel for a few weeks, until things settle down here and it is safe for her to return to me. I know it is a great favor, one I should probably not impose on you. But I do not know where else to turn. There will surely be many details to work out, arrangements to make, red tape to cut through. But I am confident that with your help, we can accomplish this and keep my Isabel safe.
I will wait anxiously for your reply, Zachary. And may God be with you.
With a heavy sigh Zach rose slowly and walked over to the window, folding his arms on the sash and staring pensively out into the darkness, his brow deeply furrowed. It had been quite a night, he thought grimly. First he’d frightened Rebecca. No, more like traumatized her, he corrected himself harshly. That incident had thrown him off balance, leaving him with equal measures of guilt, confusion and compassion. And then he’d come home to be hit with this devastating news. With sudden anger, he slammed his fist against the sash, making the glass rattle, as he railed silently against any Higher Power that might be listening.
Dear God—if You’re even up there—how could You do this to Josef? he demanded. Katrina was everything to him. He’s a good man who doesn’t deserve to be hurt. He’s always lived by Your rules, done the right thing even in the face of personal danger and sacrifice, and how do You reward him? You deprive him of the wife he loved beyond all measure, and You deny his daughter the mother she so desperately needs. It just isn’t fair!
Even as that last thought flashed across his mind, Zach sighed. It didn’t do any good to complain that life wasn’t fair, he thought resignedly. It was just a fact, plain and simple. He saw proof of it every day in his job. But the truth had just never hit quite so close to home before.
Wearily he walked back to the computer and printed out Josef’s message. Somehow it seemed even more real when he held the hard copy in his hands, the black words stark against the white paper. Josef’s request seemed more real, too, and more urgent. And therein lay a problem.
Zach remembered their promise, of course. And they’d both meant it, with every fiber of their being, during those heady years in J school that now seemed a lifetime ago. But promises made in the optimism and fervor of youth weren’t always easy to keep years later, he now realized. Circumstances changed, life became more complicated. Yet a promise was a promise, a sacred trust not to be treated lightly. His father had always told him that a man was only as good as his word, and Zach believed that. Without integrity and honor, a person was nothing. Zach knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that if circumstances were reversed, Josef wouldn’t hesitate to keep their promise. Could he do any less for this man who was closer to him even
than his brother?
The answer, of course, was no. Zach stared down again at the letter as he considered the situation. The logistics could be dealt with, that wasn’t a problem. He had plenty of contacts from his years of reporting, colleagues all over the world who knew how to cut through red tape. No, that would be the easy part, he thought dismissively. But how on earth would he, a man who had virtually no experience handling young children, cope with a little seven-year-old girl who had just lost her mother and was being sent far away from her beloved father and the only home she’d ever known?
Zach didn’t have the answer to that question. And he wasn’t sure where to find it.
Rebecca hooked the pepper spray onto her belt, pulled a sweater over her head, secured her long hair loosely with a barrette and locked the car. A good long walk in the fresh air and quiet woods, next to a bubbling brook, would lift her spirits, she told herself resolutely, though in her heart she wasn’t convinced it would help. But at least it couldn’t hurt. Her spirits were so low right now that the only place for them to go was up.
She struck out purposefully on the state park trail, determined to return to her apartment with some sense of perspective. She’d spent a sleepless night staring at the ceiling, going over and over last night’s disaster in her mind. And the more she thought about it, the more she empathized with Zach. What must he think of her? she wondered, her face flushing even now. She had overreacted—dramatically—to what, for him, was probably the standard way to end an evening with a woman whose company he had enjoyed.
In retrospect she realized that her attempt to fight off a nonexistent attack had probably not only hurt his ego, but insulted him, as well, by implying that she thought him capable of such an act. Dear Lord, she had really messed things up! If only she could relive that moment! But with a profound sense of discouragement, she admitted in her heart that it would probably end the same. Here, alone, in the fresh air and sunshine, she could think rationally, logically analyze her reaction. But in his embrace, held captive by the strength of his arms and the pressure of his lips, she would panic. It had become an instinctive response through the years, until now it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. She could no more control her irrational panic in that situation than she could stop the flood waters that had slowly but powerfully risen to threaten the town.
Rebecca wished with all her heart that there was some way to overcome her problem. But her hopes seemed doomed and, as a result, so did her dreams of a husband and family.
She trudged along, her gaze fixed on the trail to avoid stumbling over the protruding rocks, so lost in her misery that for once she was oblivious to the beauty of nature around her. In fact, so deep was her introspection that when she glanced up and saw Zach it took a moment for his presence to register.
She stopped abruptly, certain she must be hallucinating. He was just off the trail, sitting on a large flat boulder by the stream, arms around his bent knees. But what on earth was he doing on this secluded nature trail? she wondered in confusion. The state park was usually deserted this time of year on week-days. She hadn’t expected to see anyone, let alone Zach. But it was definitely him, she realized as she stared at the pensive figure not more than twenty feet ahead.
Rebecca considered beating a quiet—and hasty—retreat, but before she could make a move he glanced up, as if sensing a presence, and their eyes connected.
Zach’s reaction was much the same as hers—a double take, followed by an “am I imaging this?” look. But he recovered quickly, greeting her in weary voice. “Hello, Rebecca. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hello, Zach.”
“Nice day,” he commented, tilting his head to look up at the cobalt blue sky, the canopy of branches above him exhibiting the first tender buds of spring.
“Yes, it is. But…” She stopped uncertainly, still bewildered by his presence in this unlikely place.
He looked back at her, his lips curving up into the semblance of a smile. “What am I doing here?” he finished for her.
“Yes.”
He turned back to gaze down into the stream. “Mark told me about this place a while back. It sounded like a good spot to think.”
His face looked haggard, Rebecca thought, as she inched cautiously closer. She knew he was upset about last night’s fiasco, but for some reason she had a feeling his subdued mood today wasn’t caused by that incident alone. Maybe the much-creased sheet of paper in his hand was the key to his uncharacteristic melancholy, she thought. But whatever the reason, he didn’t seem anxious to discuss it with her. Not that she could blame him, considering her behavior last night. Yet she couldn’t just walk off and leave, when she sensed that he needed someone to talk to.
“Zach…is everything okay?” she asked tentatively, trying to give him an opening.
He turned back to her once more. She had moved close enough now for him to see the dark circles beneath her eyes, eloquent evidence of her sleepless night, and he knew with a pang of guilt that he was to blame. But much as he wanted to work out the situation between them, it wasn’t his priority at the moment. He had a more urgent problem to resolve. He glanced back at the letter in his hand and sighed. “Not really. I got some bad news last night.”
“A letter?”
“E-mail. It was waiting when I got home.”
“Something to do with your family?” She was only a few feet away now, and she paused uncertainly, still unsure of her welcome.
“You might say that.” He turned to gaze at her, his eyes troubled. “Look, Rebecca, you don’t need to keep me company. You obviously came out here to be alone. I’ll work this out myself.”
She bit her lip. Was he trying to tell her to get lost? Or just being considerate of her needs, trying not to intrude on her day? There was only one way to find out. “I can be a good listener, Zach, if you want to talk about it,” she offered quietly.
His gaze dropped to her belt and he gave a mirthless chuckle. “Well, at least you’re prepared today. A blast of that pepper spray should keep me in line.”
In the instant before she turned away, Zach saw the shaft of pain shoot through her eyes at his rebuke, and he felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Of all the stupid remarks! he berated himself. Just because he was upset about Josef’s situation was no excuse to take it out on this gentle woman who had just offered him a much-needed sympathetic ear.
He rose in one swift movement to follow her, reaching her just as she stumbled on a rock. His hand shot out to steady her, and she reached up to swipe at her misty eyes, trying to clear her clouded vision.
“Rebecca, please forgive me,” he implored, his voice raw with pain. “That remark was totally out of line and completely insensitive. My only excuse is that I’ve had a really lousy twelve hours. Look, stay awhile, okay? I could use the company.”
Rebecca held herself stiffly, blinking back the tears still welling in her eyes. She’d always been overly sensitive, wearing her feelings so close to the surface that they were easily hurt. In her heart she knew Zach wouldn’t have made that remark under normal circumstances. Something must be terribly wrong. Refusing to forgive him would only add to whatever trauma he was trying to deal with. Rebecca struggled with forgiveness sometimes, often finding it hard to forget callously inflicted hurts. But she needed to learn to let go, and this was a good chance to put that lesson into practice.
She let her shoulders relax and reached up to wipe away the last traces of her tears before she turned to face him. “Are you sure you want me to? I didn’t mean to force myself on you.”
Zach’s own shoulders sagged in relief. He knew his curt remark could have alienated her permanently, considering that they were on shaky ground already. Thank God she was willing to give him another chance! he thought gratefully.
“Believe me, you’re welcome,” he assured her, the husky timbre of his voice more pronounced than usual. “Come on, let’s go back and sit on the rock.” He took her arm protectively as they made their way over the
rocky ground, releasing it as they sat down on the large boulder. Glancing down at the letter, he drew a deep breath. “Do you remember the friend I mentioned once, the one in Eastern Europe?”
“Yes.”
“We went to journalism school together. Mizzou. I can’t think of anyone in this world I admire more than Josef. He’s a man of deep conviction, impeccable character and great faith. He’s always been an inspiration to me when things got tough.” Zach paused and picked up a pebble, fingering it absently as he continued, his eyes fixed on a spot across the stream, but his gaze clearly turned inward. “We’ve kept in touch all these years, despite the distance. About eight years ago he and his wife, Katrina, came to the States for the birth of their daughter, Isabel. Katrina had a problem pregnancy, and was always a little frail, anyway, so Josef didn’t want to take any chances. They stayed with me for six weeks, and I was even Isabel’s godfather at her christening.” He paused to pull out his wallet, flipping to a photo before handing it to Rebecca. “This picture was taken that day.”
Rebecca took the wallet and examined the shot. She saw a much-younger Zach, gingerly holding a tiny bundle in white, flanked by an attractive, delicate-looking woman and a slender, dark-haired man with compelling eyes. “They look like a nice family,” she said softly.
“Yeah, they were,” Zach replied. “That’s a more recent picture of Isabel up above.”
Rebecca’s gaze flickered up to examine the solemn face staring back at her, framed by long dark hair, the delicate bone structure mirroring that of her mother. But it was Isabel’s eyes that held her. They were Josef’s eyes, no question. But they were also eyes that had seen too much for someone so young, she thought, her heart aching with compassion. No child’s eyes should look that wary and vulnerable, so old for their years.
“I got this last night,” Zach said quietly, handing her the paper before turning away.
