From across the church, Aunt Bea and Uncle Bert turned and looked in their direction, their attention falling on Mr. Bessler. They turned back to the front when Mr. Bessler raised his head, but another person Eloise recognized from the diner turned and eyed the old man. A couple stared from another section of the sanctuary, and when Eloise looked back at them, they tipped their heads together and whispered.
Some misgiving edged into her sense of peace, and Eloise glanced toward the old man. If Mr. Bessler noticed the scrutiny, he didn’t betray it.
“Why is everyone staring at your father?” Eloise whispered softly.
“You underestimate the speed of a juicy rumor,” Cory said, smiling. “There’s no harm in them looking. Don’t worry about it.”
Mr. Bessler still appeared unfazed. Eloise attempted to focus on the sermon. The pastor was preaching on forgiveness, and he was just reading the passage about forgiving seventy times seven times. Eloise had started to reach for the pew Bible when someone tapped on her shoulder. A white-haired old woman leaned forward from her pew directly behind Eloise, smiling gently.
“Welcome to our church,” she whispered, holding out a hand. Eloise turned around to shake her hand and nodded her hello.
“I’m Talia Burke,” the woman murmured.
“Eloise LeBlanc. Nice to meet you,” she whispered.
“We’re having a potluck after service, and you’re more than welcome to stay,” the woman offered.
“Thank you.” Eloise attempted to face the front once more, but the woman leaned forward again.
“Are you and Cory—” the woman waggled a finger between them, her penciled eyebrows raised questioningly.
“No.” Eloise smiled. “Just the medic.” She turned around, a laugh rising up inside her. It looked as if the presence of a woman with Cory in a pew also caused a bit of a stir. She wondered what sorts of complications this would cause for Cory later.
Mrs. Burke tapped Eloise’s shoulder again.
“He’s single,” she whispered helpfully.
“Thanks,” Eloise replied softly. “But I won’t be in town long.”
“Oh?”
Mrs. Burke seemed more interested in Eloise than the sermon, and Eloise wondered how she could politely put the woman off.
“Maybe we could talk more after the service,” Eloise suggested.
“Oh yes, of course.” Mrs. Burke looked mildly offended and leaned back in her seat. Eloise had the vague impression she’d broken a social rule. She glanced at Cory, whose gaze flickered in her direction.
An amused smile flickered at the corners of his lips. “That’s Mrs. Burke for you. Local matchmaker extraordinaire.”
Eloise idly wondered if Talia Burke’s matchmaking was successful or just intrusive, but she didn’t ask. Instead she attempted to listen to what the pastor was saying.
A tap on her shoulder drew Eloise’s attention once more, and she attempted to veil her annoyance before she turned around.
“Yes?” she whispered.
“I know about your situation,” Mrs. Burke whispered.
My situation? Eloise wondered what the woman meant by that. She could only assume that she was speaking about her position as Mr. Bessler’s nurse. Why can’t people just give the man some privacy? Does the entire church have a stake in Cory’s paternity?
“I can’t talk about it,” Eloise whispered back. “I hope you understand.”
“Oh, of course,” the older woman crooned. “It would be hard to talk about, but time does heal the wounds, doesn’t it?”
“I hope so,” Eloise replied. “Thanks for understanding.”
Eloise turned around more resolutely this time, but Mrs. Burke hadn’t finished. She leaned forward to whisper in Eloise’s ear, “Don’t think you’re the only one, dear. Men can be scoundrels.”
Eloise frowned, the sermon forgotten. What is she talking about?
Eloise turned around. “What do you mean?”
Mrs. Burke scooted to the front of her pew and put a plump hand over Eloise’s. “Your husband, of course.”
“My...” Eloise’s breath caught in her throat.
“I know he ran out on you, but don’t let that stop you from living, dear. In fact, I know several single men in this church—”
“No, thank you.”
Eloise attempted to smile but wasn’t sure if she succeeded or simply bared her teeth at the old woman. She turned back around, heat rising in her cheeks.
How on earth would a random woman in Cory’s church know about my divorce? That was the question. She hadn’t told anyone except Cory.
Her stomach sank. Had Cory been telling people the things she’d shared with him? It hardly seemed like him, but the fact remained that old Mrs. Burke in the pew behind seemed to be entirely in the know.
So this is what a small community is like, she thought wryly. Delightful.
Aunt Bea turned around from her pew near the front of the church, her gaze landing squarely on Mr. Bessler. The old man put out a quivering hand and placed it on Eloise’s arm. She leaned toward him.
“Are you okay, Robert?” she whispered.
“Get me out of here.” His voice was loud enough to carry, and the pastor stumbled over a few words in his sermon. Eloise inwardly grimaced.
“Okay,” Eloise whispered. “But please, Robert, keep your voice down.”
Mr. Bessler sank into his chair, averting his gaze.
So he had noticed all the attention. Her heart went out to him. He might not have been a father to speak of, but he was a human being, and when he came to a church to worship, the last thing he needed was judgment.
Attempting to keep her own indignation in check, Eloise released the brake on the old man’s chair and wheeled him toward the door.
* * *
Cory stepped outside into the warm sunlight, squinting in the brightness. His boots resounded against the wooden steps, and the thick wooden door swung shut behind him, muffling the sound of the preacher’s voice.
The Cranton Christian Church was located on a side road across the street from a field of young wheat, rippling in the wind. A barbed-wire fence cradled the bountiful crop that already rose higher than the fence posts. The whitewashed building was topped by a small steeple and a rusted metal cross.
With her back to the church, Eloise stood as if on guard next to his father’s wheelchair. Her fiery curls whipped in a rising wind, her black skirt flapping against her legs. She glanced back as Cory walked up.
“I’m sorry about that,” Cory said. “They’re curious.”
“They’re judging,” his father retorted.
Cory took a deep breath. “All they did was sneak a peek at you. No one said a word.”
“No one needed to.” The old man looked away. “What did you tell them about me anyway?”
“Me?” Cory bit back a sarcastic retort and attempted to calm the anger sparked inside him. “Do you think no one has thought about you all these years? You’re the guy who got my mother pregnant and then dumped her. Don’t you think that affected the family?”
“I was married.” The old man shrugged his frail shoulders and heaved a wheezing sigh. “What did you want?”
“I know that now, but there were thirty-five years for people to speculate. My extended family helped to raise me when you were out of the picture. You’ll have to forgive them for feeling like they have a small stake in this.”
“In what?” his father demanded. “A stake in me? I’m no one’s business but God’s, and I didn’t come out here to be a sideshow.”
“A stake in you?” Cory shook his head incredulously. “They have a stake in me, Robert.”
A car cruised past the church, and the three looked toward the vehicle and watched it rumble around a corner. The
old man lifted a finger as if about to commence with a lecture, pointing it in Cory’s direction.
“I’m not a bad man, Cory.” His voice quivered with emotion.
“Maybe not,” Cory agreed. “But you’ve got your faults.”
His father nodded slowly. “Fine. But at least I accept my faults. You, on the other hand, think you’re a saint. You’ve never fathered any children. You’ve never done anything particularly terrible. In fact, I doubt that you’ve ever done much of anything at all. And you count doing absolutely nothing as a virtue.”
“Robert...” Eloise’s tone held warning.
“Nothing?” Cory flexed his fists at his sides, indignation fighting to get past his self-control. “What do you call a ranch of my own?”
“An inheritance. You hold on to that land with a death grip, and I think you’re afraid to try anything that doesn’t involve a field or a herd of cattle.”
“And if I went about fathering children and walking away from them, then I’d really have lived?” Cory scoffed. “Is that what you think?”
“I never said I was proud to have fathered you!”
“Robert, that’s enough,” Eloise snapped. “You know nothing about your son’s accomplishments. I’ve seen how much his employees respect him, and that doesn’t come lightly. He’s earned my respect, too. He’s fair, honest and successful. That’s more than most men can boast. So don’t say things you don’t mean just to be cruel.”
Silence swept between them, punctured only by the twitter of birds and the whistle of his father’s breathing. Cory looked at Eloise in unveiled surprise. He had no idea she thought so highly of him, and her words buoyed him up in the face of his father’s criticism. The old man looked away, his blue eyes snapping in suppressed rage.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” his father said.
“Then what did you mean?” Cory demanded. “Because I’m perfectly inclined to believe you.”
“Your mother was the biggest mistake of my life.” Mr. Bessler clenched his teeth. “I never should have started up with her, and not a day has gone by that I haven’t regretted that affair.”
“My mother?” Cory laughed bitterly. “She’s your biggest mistake? A lifetime of lies doesn’t factor in there anywhere? You think a short-lived affair was worse?”
“Lies to cover up what I did!” The old man glared at Cory. “I admit I did a terrible thing, but all the lies I told were only to hide the original mistake from my wife. I committed adultery, and it’s followed me every day since.”
Cory glanced in Eloise’s direction and she stood back, that professional reserve on her face again. She was acting the part of the nurse, backing away emotionally, and that distance hurt. But he knew whom he was angry with, and it wasn’t Eloise.
“You make my mother sound like some home wrecker, out to destroy your marriage.”
“It could have, had my wife found out.” His father’s lips moved as if he were about to say something more, then he clamped them shut.
“Well, my mother remembered it differently.” Cory kicked a pebble, sending it skittering into the grass. “She told me how you charmed her and swept her off her feet. So you’re going to tell me that she nearly ruined your life? I think you ruined hers.”
“I was weak, and I was stupid.” His father’s face twisted in distaste. “I was tempted and I will never forgive myself for doing what I did.”
“So your answer was to toss her out and walk away from the child you fathered?”
“You were fine.”
“How do you even know that?” Cory retorted. “You know nothing about me!”
“She told me...sometimes. She gave me little updates about you.”
Cory froze. His mother had been in contact with his father? He’d had no idea. She’d hidden more from him than he’d ever imagined.
“And from that you made the judgment that I was perfectly happy?”
His father remained silent and anger surged up in Cory’s chest. This was a conversation to have in private, and for moment, he considered stopping right there. Eloise didn’t need to see this. For all he knew, the old man didn’t need this conversation, either. Before Cory could decide, he found himself talking again, his tone lower.
“I missed you. I always wondered why you didn’t care. Other kids had dads. Other kids had some sort of contact with the man who fathered them, but I never did, and that hurt.”
“Well, I’m sorry.” The old man shifted in his wheelchair. “I did what was best.”
“Well, like my mother I see it differently.” Cory turned his back, the fight draining out of him. With the anger seeping away, all that remained was bone-deep exhaustion.
I didn’t really want to know this.
It would have been easier never to know his father than to learn the disappointing truth. Somehow his adolescent fantasies about a father with some unknown but excellent excuse to be absent seemed better than this. But there was no going back now. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and turned back. Eloise stood next to the old man, her green eyes locked on Cory as if waiting for a final explosion.
“I’m sorry, Eloise,” he said quietly.
She didn’t answer, and he wondered what she thought of him in that moment. She’d just seen the worst flying between himself and his father, and while he couldn’t think straight about it now, he suspected he’d regret a good deal of it later.
His father stared at a space of grass between Cory and the church; then he slowly raised his gaze to meet his son’s. “You were born to the wrong woman, Cory.”
“What?” Cory squinted as he regarded the old man hunched before him.
“Ruth wanted a baby more than anything. She prayed every night for a child, and as the years went by, nothing happened. I told her that it was probably my fault. I wanted to believe it as much as she did.” He licked his dry lips. “And then—”
“I came along.” Cory finished his father’s thought.
The old man nodded.
“So if you wanted kids so badly, why not be a father to one you had?”
“I told you. You were born to the wrong woman.”
Cory sighed. “I was your Ishmael, and your Isaac never came.”
“Something like that.”
Cory saw Eloise wrap her arms around her waist and look down at her feet.
“That’s fine,” he said gruffly. “It is what it is.”
“It would have killed her.” Tears rose in his father’s eyes. “If Ruth had ever known about you, it would have broken her heart beyond repair.”
Cory nodded. “So instead you broke my mother’s heart and abandoned me.”
“The lesser of two evils,” the old man murmured.
“You think so?”
From the church, the piano hammered out the opening notes to the closing hymn. Cory glanced at his watch.
“Let’s go home,” he said and walked purposefully toward his pickup parked across the street. He had no answers. He might very well be out of questions, too, at this point, and all he could think of was getting back home to his ranch where the land was big enough to swallow this ache in his gut.
* * *
Eloise pushed Mr. Bessler’s wheelchair after Cory. The rancher’s shoulders were set. She’d never seen Cory angry before, and she had to admit he was impressive when his ire was up. Mr. Bessler looked down, muttering irritably to himself. Behind them the church door opened, the hymn crescendoed, and then the door banged shut against the music.
“You’re Eloise, right?” a girl called from behind them.
A teenage girl hurried across the church lawn, her straight brown hair fluttering out behind her. She waved in Cory’s direction.
“Hi, Uncle Cory.”
“Hey there, kiddo.” Cory’s steely gaze soft
ened. “We’re just leaving.”
“Just wanted to say hi.” She grinned. “I’m Kelsie.” She offered a hand to Eloise.
“Hi, Kelsie.” Eloise smiled and shook the teenager’s hand.
“Mom wants me to invite you all for Sunday dinner,” Kelsie said.
“Tell your mom thanks for the invite, but we’ll be lying low,” Cory said.
“Okay.” The girl’s gaze flickered toward Mr. Bessler, seated in his wheelchair. “Uncle Cory, is this your dad?”
“Yes.”
“Can I say hi?”
“No.”
Kelsie didn’t seem put off by Cory’s curt reply. She turned her attention to Eloise. “You know, Uncle Cory hasn’t brought a woman around since I was, like, twelve.”
Eloise chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t count. I’m just his father’s nurse.”
“Oh yeah?” The girl eyed Eloise speculatively. “Has Uncle Cory told you about Deirdre? She was nice and all, but not right for him.”
“Kelsie.” Cory’s tone held warning. “We’re heading home now. You go tell your mom I’ll give her a call later, okay?”
Kelsie heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine.” She shot Eloise a grin. “You might have noticed that Uncle Cory’s hard to nail down, but he’s worth it.”
“Kelsie!” Cory gave the girl a baleful look, and Kelsie laughed good-naturedly, putting her hands up. She didn’t seem the least bit cowed by her uncle’s glare.
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving! See you later!”
As Kelsie sauntered back toward the church, her summer dress rippling around her knees in the breeze, Eloise looked askance at Cory. “Your niece?” she asked.
Cory nodded. “Technically my cousin. This is Bea’s daughter. And growing up faster than I can keep up with.”
“They do that,” Eloise agreed with a smile. “She thinks the world of you, though.”
Cory grunted and opened the truck door. “Let’s just get home.”
Chapter Nine
Eloise leaned against the window frame, her gaze trained over the front veranda where Cory stood with his back to the house, his broad, tan hands resting on the wooden rail. Beyond him, bright afternoon sunlight bleached the lawn. Something in the set of his wide shoulders spoke of heaviness. Down the hallway, Mr. Bessler snored softly.
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