“Cute.” An amused grin curved his lips.
She shrugged in hopes of covering her embarrassment. “Look, you can’t expect much when you come over un-announced, okay?”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Ravyn ignored his laughing expression. “Want some coffee? I have a latte machine.”
He held up a hand. “No thanks. I have to sleep tonight. I start first shift tomorrow and then I’m on call for the next twenty-four hours.”
Ravyn sent him a sympathetic grin and sat down beside him. It was either that or take a seat on the floor; she hadn’t gotten around to purchasing coordinating furniture yet.
The smell of his musky spice-scented cologne wafted to her nose, and she noticed he looked quite appealing in his blue jeans and aquamarine crewneck sweater with its sleeves pushed up on his forearms.
She corralled her wayward thoughts. “So, um, what did you want to talk to me about? And how did you find me?”
“In answer to your last question first,” he replied, still looking amused, “my aunt called your parents’ house.” He lazed back against the throw pillows. “Initially, I just wanted your phone number, but once I had your address, too, I figured I’d stop by rather than call.”
Tucking one leg beneath her, Ravyn shifted her weight sideways, facing him. “Must be important.”
“I thought so. I was worried about you. You seemed upset this morning when you left work and I wondered if it had to do with our trauma patient.”
Ravyn suddenly felt as though she might burst into tears all over again. However, she hesitated to admit the fact to Mark. She didn’t want him to doubt her nursing skills even though she herself was doing that very thing.
“Listen, if it’s any consolation, feeling bad after a patient dies only makes you as human as the rest of us,” Mark said. “We care about people. That’s why we chose the health-care profession.”
She gaped at him. “Are you a mind reader, or what?”
Mark chuckled. “You’re easy to read.”
She glanced down at her blue jeans and picked at a fray in the seam. “I care about people, but I also wanted a good-paying job. A job in the medical field seemed to fit the bill.”
“Ditto.”
Ravyn looked back up at Mark. Maybe they had more in common than she ever realized.
And maybe he’d be the one who would understand.
“I just don’t feel like much of a nurse right now.”
Mark stretched his arm across the back of the couch. “You’re really beating yourself up, aren’t you?”
“That kid begged me not to let him die,” Ravyn said, tears clouding her vision. “I felt so helpless.”
“Join the club. I was the guy calling the shots. I couldn’t save him, either. Nor could the trauma surgeon. But we all did the best we could.” He paused before adding, “The truth is, our powers are limited.”
“I know that on an intellectual and spiritual level.” She expelled a weary breath. “But somehow I let my emotions get all tangled up in the incident, and there is no room for emotions in the medical field.”
“True. But we’re not exactly robots, either.”
His expression said he related to her feelings, and Ravyn felt grateful. If she had tried to talk to Teala about this, her sister would have never been able to understand.
“You’re an excellent nurse. I’ve seen you in action.”
“Thanks.” She lowered her gaze, wishing his compliment would sink in so she’d believe it herself.
“You’re kind to the patients, and you endure your coworkers without complaint. The latter’s quite admirable.”
Catching the facetiousness in his voice, she looked up and saw him grin. She smiled at his comment, but moments later a sincere light entered Mark’s dark gaze that made her breath catch.
His hand moved from its resting place along the top of the sofa, and with his forefinger, he caressed her cheek.
Time stood still. Ravyn couldn’t think straight. Then Mark leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. The tender kiss made her feel heady, and it was sweeter than she remembered from a decade ago.
And on that thought her senses returned.
Ravyn placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away.
A little frown marred his forehead.
“Mark, is this for real or—” She narrowed her gaze at him. “Or are you just a smooth operator?”
He pulled his chin back, as if insulted, and Ravyn almost apologized. Almost. Lately she doubted everyone’s motives.
She tossed the pillow aside and stood. “For your infor-mation, I’m not that kind of a girl.”
As she strode to the kitchen, she hoped Mark would be offended enough to leave. Instead, he followed her, caught her wrist, and spun her around to face him. His grip was strong yet gentle, determined but hardly rough.
“For your information,” he countered, “I’m not that kind of a guy.”
She stared up at him, unsure of what to say.
“The truth is, I care about you, Ravyn.” With that, Mark released her wrist and gathered her into his arms. His voice was but a whisper. “Can’t you tell?”
“Well, yes, but—” She felt almost dazed.
“But what?”
Within the warm circumference of his arms, all words escaped her. He kissed her again and this time Ravyn didn’t push him away. But just as her knees grew weak and his hold around her waist tightened, the sharp buzzer from downstairs sounded.
Ravyn jumped.
“Whoa, a little edgy, huh?” Mark laughed and released her. “No more lattes for you.”
It took a good moment for her wits to return, and she fought the disappointment that enveloped her. She had enjoyed that brief romantic interlude.
She trudged to the door. “This is probably my sister Teala.”
Mark shrugged and sat back down on the sofa. “I’ll consider myself fairly warned.”
She grinned, but when her mother’s worried voice echoed through the intercom, Ravyn felt anything but amused.
“Honey, buzz me in. I want to make sure you’re okay. A doctor was looking for you this afternoon. Are you sick? What’s the matter? Let me in.”
“It’s my mother.” Ravyn glanced at Mark. “You can escape out the patio door.”
He regarded her askance. “Are you telling or suggesting?”
“Suggesting.”
He smiled. “Then I’ll stay. I always liked your mom.”
“O–ka–ay.”
She pressed the button that unlocked the lower-level entrance. Within a few moments, Zann Woods appeared at the doorway, a springtime vision in a flowing patchwork-printed skirt, white blouse, and tan, wide-brimmed hat. Ravyn thought her mom looked like she’d stepped out of a pastoral painting. The only missing element was a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.
“What’s wrong?” Zann’s frown furrowed her deep-brown eyebrows. “You do look peaked. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Ravyn waved her in and after her mother’s strappy-sandaled feet stepped into the tiny foyer, she closed the door. “You remember Mark Monroe. He’s Doctor Monroe now.”
“Of course. Hello, Mark.” Ravyn watched as her mother crossed the room and headed for him with an outstretched hand. “How nice to see you again.” She glanced at Ravyn, then looked back at Mark. “When Violet said a doctor needed Ravyn’s address and phone number, I thought. . .” Her gaze returned to Ravyn. “Well, naturally, I assumed it wasn’t for a social call. I was thinking more along the lines of pneumonia or a car accident.”
“No, Mom, I’m really fine.”
The buzzer sounded again.
“That would be your father.”
“Dad’s here?” Ravyn couldn’t contain her shock.
Her mother removed her hat and shook out her brown-black hair with its streaks of silver. “He was worried about you, too.”
One glance at Mark’s composure and polite smile told Ravyn he wasn’t the least bi
t concerned. But as she buzzed her dad upstairs, she almost felt sorry for Mark. If the interrogation matched the one that Teala’s boyfriend Greg underwent, the word drama wouldn’t come close to describing it.
Her heart sank. After this evening, Mark might not care about her as much as he thought.
❧
“And just what are your intentions concerning my daughter?”
“Dad!”
He laughed and gave Ravyn a juicy-sounding kiss on the cheek.
“I’m glad you’re all right, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine.”
“And now for you, young man—”
“Oh, Dad—please. Mark is my guest.”
“So I see.” He grinned and stuck out his right hand.
While shaking Alfred Woods’s thin hand, Mark smiled at Ravyn’s obvious embarrassment. He knew the older man was just giving him a hard time. Mark could tell by the way he purposely dipped one grayish blond eyebrow.
Al chuckled. “How long has it been, Mark?”
“A long time.”
“A lifetime ago.”
Mark nodded. “Just about.”
“Ravyn, where did you get this sofa?” Zann asked, changing the subject. She sat down, running her hand over the armrest. “I hope you didn’t pay full price for it. I recently saw one exactly like this at the secondhand shop downtown. I know the manager. She probably would have given it to you for free.”
Mark caught Ravyn’s exasperated expression before she walked toward the kitchen.
Al stood, arms akimbo. “I think you need some more chairs in here, honey.”
The last word had just parted his lips when Ravyn returned, carrying a wooden kitchen chair under each arm. Mark guessed they weighed more than she did, and he rushed to take them from her.
He set down a chair for Al, who lowered his tall, lanky frame onto the hard seat. Mark then claimed the second chair for himself. Ravyn sat down beside her mother.
“I appreciate your concern,” Ravyn said, “but if you both would have called I could have saved you a trip across town.”
“Guess we wanted to see for ourselves,” Zann said.
“So, Mark.” Al cleared his throat. “What made you decide to give up a career in theater and go into medicine?”
“The paycheck for one,” Ravyn said.
Mark chuckled.
“Well, I really thought you had potential on the stage,” Al continued. “And as I recall, you had a serious desire for the ministry.”
“Still do. That part hasn’t changed.” Mark stopped short of sharing his plans to travel overseas and work as a medical missionary. But why? Was it because he feared Ravyn’s possible rejection of the idea—and of him?
He regarded her as she sat curled up at one end of the sofa. She appeared so small and helpless that Mark had to fight the urge to sit beside her and slip a protective arm around her shoulders. However, he had the strong impression the word helpless didn’t accurately describe Ravyn Woods. In spite of her petite frame, she was a capable woman.
But was she a derailment or the woman God wanted him to pursue? Mark did, indeed, care about Ravyn—more than he understood—and he sensed he was helping her over some emotional hurdles. But where was their relationship headed?
He decided that perhaps Al Woods had started off by asking the appropriate question after all: Just what were his intentions, anyway?
Nine
For the days that followed, Ravyn couldn’t shake off the dark cloud of gloom that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Her conversation with Mark had been an encouragement, and his kiss was like sweet salve on her wounded spirit. Her parents’ visit had turned quite amusing as they, along with Mark and Ravyn, reminisced about that summer a decade ago in which Mark had the lead role in Dad’s play. They laughed about things that Ravyn had long since forgotten, and they mentioned people she’d never forget—such as her former friend Shelley. Then, after ordering pizza, Mark suggested he and Ravyn look her up and give her a call. Make peace with the past, so to speak. Ravyn supposed it was worth a try, although she couldn’t imagine when she’d have time to plan a visit, assuming Shelley agreed to it. As it was, Ravyn and Mark were still trying to free up one Saturday night from their schedules so they could go out to dinner.
But even with those issues occupying a corner of her mind, a more recent matter weighed on her conscience: Jace, last week’s shooting victim. The tragedy had affected her more than she cared to admit. In fact, she felt so troubled about it that on Mother’s Day she didn’t need to be begged or coerced into attending the church service with her family. She came of her own free will. Mom was thrilled.
There, in the gleaming wooden pew, Ravyn sat sandwiched between her two sisters. Their parents occupied the two places on one side of them and Teala’s boyfriend, Greg, sat on the other.
Ravyn glanced at her parents. Her mother had dressed in a colorful outfit while Dad wore an outdated brown suit that looked almost fashionable again. They turned her way and Ravyn gave them a smile. For all their mistakes when she was growing up, Ravyn never doubted that her folks loved her.
She never doubted that God loved her, either. She just figured He would wait patiently for her, perfect Hero that He was, until she got her life’s plan set in motion and came back to Him.
It won’t be long now, Lord, she promised. I’m well on my way to achieving my goals.
A group of children made their way to the front of the small church and took their places on the three long steps of the altar’s platform. They wiggled and grinned, and a few waved to their parents. However, they quickly donned serious expressions as the choir director commanded their attention.
The pianist began to play and the children sang.
When we walk with the Lord
In the light of His Word,
What a glory He sheds on our way!
While we do His good will
He abides with us still,
And with all who will trust and obey.
Ravyn smiled. She knew the old hymn well—as well as she knew her own name.
Trust and obey—
For there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus,
But to trust and obey.
The familiar and fundamental message burned within her heart. Trust and obey—no other way—happy in Jesus.
She suddenly longed for simpler days. She wished she had her younger sisters’ vibrant outlooks on life. Ravyn could only recall how depressed she’d been feeling. The stress of her new job in the ER combined with the tragedy of experiencing a patient’s death had depleted her courage and motivation and put a large chink in her sensibilities.
Lord, I just want to be happy again.
Then “trust and obey,” she seemed to hear God say. Don’t be troubled about anything.
Ravyn recalled the biblical command and felt led to read the rest of the passage. She lifted her small Bible and as the children began singing the third stanza, she flipped through the pages of the New Testament until she found the verses in Philippians 4.
But in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Ravyn closed her Bible and settled back into the pew. She relaxed her mind and made the decision to trust and obey. God was here in this sanctuary. She felt His presence. Like the scriptures taught, His arm was not so short that it could not save. God was able to steer her life back on course. She believed what the Bible said was true.
A languid peace flowed through her veins and, yes, she even felt a swell of happiness. Trust and obey.
It had been years since she’d heard God’s still small voice—
And it had been even longer since she had listened.
❧
“Hey, Monroe!”
Mark turned and waited in the hallway as Geoff Ling, a fellow resident, approached him.
“G
ot something for you.” He handed Mark a square, white envelope. “Is it your birthday?”
“Nope.” Mark inspected the handwriting but didn’t recog-nize it.
The Asian-American doctor peered through his glasses at Mark. “One of the ER nurses gave it to me on her way out—said she was hoping to run into you last night.”
Mark immediately thought of Ravyn. “I got tied up with consults.”
“Too bad. She’s pretty. Black hair, dark eyes—”
“I know who you mean.”
“Figured you did.” The guy gave Mark a friendly sock in the arm. “They don’t call you George down there for nothing.”
“Oh, cut it out. You know I hate that.”
Geoff snickered in a good-natured manner and went on his way.
Mark tore into the envelope and pulled out the yellow greeting card. The words Thank You were embossed on its front. Curious, he opened it and read the words Ravyn had scribed.
Thanks for your listening ear. You were a big help in encouraging me. In church on Sunday, the Lord really spoke to my heart and that uplifted me more than anything. This morning I read from the book of Philippians. Funny how I’d forgotten all about God’s command to “be anxious for nothing.” I decided I’d better obey.
Mark grinned at the smiley face Ravyn drew. He felt encouraged. Highly encouraged.
Smiling, he tucked the card into his white jacket pocket and returned to the nursing station to tie up any loose ends before going home. All night long, new patients arrived in the ER, nurses had questions, and every so often one of his cronies spotted him, walked over, and started up a conversation. Most of his fellow residents, Mark had learned, were either pursuing a specialty here at Victory and/or had careers lined up at clinics or at other hospitals. Several of them were engaged and planned to get married this summer.
He squelched the pangs of envy. A family of his own appealed to Mark, although he knew it couldn’t take precedence over the plans he already had in place. They began with a long overdue visit to New Hampshire where he’d spend some time with his family. After that, he’d start the candidating process, visiting two churches a week and gathering support for the mission field. By January of next year, Mark planned to join the team of medical personnel with whom he’d been corresponding via the Internet and occasional phone calls.
Prescription For Love Page 7
