He laughed like the idea didn’t bother him in the least. “Well, I was hoping you’d drive with me. It’ll give us the chance to talk.”
“Oh.” I needed to say no, but doing that would hurt his feelings, and I didn’t want to do that. Spending more time with him wasn’t a good idea. The thought of driving with Clay for four hours to Anchor Point filled me with warmth, and it was like a shot of serotonin. It literally made me feel high. But I had to be practical and not allow emotions to rule my decisions. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I didn’t want to lead him on even more.
“That’s a nice idea,” I said politely, “but I plan to get my own rental car.”
Sabrina nudged me on the shoulder. “You don’t need to do that. Hunter has an extra vehicle you can use. Isn’t that right?” She turned to Hunter and although I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was giving him silent communication on the matter.
“Yes, absolutely,” he said. “I recently bought a used truck to haul in lumber when I need it. You’re more than welcome to use it while you’re here.”
“That’s okay. I would hate to inconvenience you.”
Clay winked. “It’s not an inconvenience at all.”
I smiled wanly. “Easy for you to say since it’s not your vehicle.”
“It really isn’t a problem,” Hunter said.
“Well, that settles it.” Sabrina wrapped her arm around Hunter’s waist and the two of them moved closer to the baggage carousel to get her luggage.
“Guess you’re stuck with me,” Clay said, a mischievous grin on his face.
“Looks like I am.”
The drive to Anchor Point was awkward and uncomfortable after that. I wanted to relax and enjoy myself, but since I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, I couldn’t let my guard down. I’d already shot his hopes up with that kiss, which I felt terrible about, by the way. I’d responded irresponsibly and acted on impulse.
Seeing Jared with his wife and kids had crushed me, not because I had lingering feelings for Jared, but because I wanted what he had…a family. The Bible said not to covet, and I had, despite my desire to be content with the life God had given me. Kissing Clay was a way to feel alive—like I wasn’t alone in this world—but I shouldn’t have done it.
Besides that, I hadn’t counted on liking it as much as I had, and I hadn’t considered how it would affect me afterward. Clay was all I could think about for days after he flew back home. It had taken a lot of discipline to push thoughts of him out of my head, and I wouldn’t allow myself to regress like that again.
It was up to me to put the brakes on this thing between us, and if I didn’t, it would only get harder to let go.
During the drive, I sensed his gaze on me, and I could tell he knew something was up. A couple of times I almost worked up the courage to have a conversation about boundaries and just being friends, but the lump in my throat prevented me from doing that, so in the end, I chickened out. One would think these kinds of discussions would be easy for me since I was a therapist, but discussing other people’s problems was not the same as dealing with your own.
By the time we drove up to his house four hours later, I was ready to jump out of the car to get away from him. Everything about him pulled me in. His humor and straightforward manner of speaking. His kindness. The humility with which he carried himself. It was almost too much to take.
We parked, and the rest of the caravan drove up behind us. His house was situated on a piece of private property in a secluded area, and it was so beautiful my breath caught in my throat. It wasn’t around other houses, but it definitely wasn’t off-the-grid. Red and white Christmas lights lined the frame and twinkled against the cloudy sky. It wasn’t dark yet, but the lights still flickered brilliantly. Clay had told me that in Anchor Point, sunset happened at four p.m. this time of year, and we were a few hours away from that.
As our entire clan walked through the front door of Clay’s house, there was a collective gasp. His place was stunning, like something out of a magazine. All this time, I’d pictured him in his small cabin, and I’d had this image of the type of person he was, maybe because of his beard and long hair. Seeing his mansion and the classy way he’d decorated his home showed me a completely different side of him. Clay Drover was full of surprises.
My mom circled the living room, taking in the landscape pictures on the wall, the high ceilings, and open space. “Wow, you have a lovely home, Clay. Thank you for letting us stay here.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said, nodding his head in her direction.
She smiled at him, approval and admiration showing in her expression. She glanced at me and winked, and I tried not to roll my eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder if she would have had the same reaction if she’d seen his cabin and thought that was all he had.
I wouldn’t fault her for being impressed though. I was as well, but it didn’t mean I’d changed my mind. I needed to reiterate that we could only be friends, and I needed to do it soon. It wasn’t fair to let him think there was hope, and I wasn’t the type to string anyone along.
Clay gave us a tour of his home which included a huge living room, dining room, kitchen, office, recreational room, and eight bedrooms. There was even an outdoor sauna. He was graciously allowing us to stay for two weeks to attend the wedding and celebrate Christmas afterward. Sabrina and Hunter would be on their honeymoon during the holiday, but the rest of the family was looking forward to remaining in Anchor Point.
We divvied up the rooms and Sabrina and I decided to share as it would be our last time together before she tied the knot. I’d thought I would be sad about that since we had been the final hold-outs in the family, waiting much longer to get married than the others. Now, I would be the only one left who’d remained single, but honestly, I was just happy for her. She was marrying her best friend, and I’d never seen her so elated.
After putting my clothes away, I made my way to the kitchen to get a drink of water, but before I even got there, Clay intercepted me.
“Jazmin, can I speak to you for a moment?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
He motioned for me to follow him and led me to his office. Instead of sitting at his desk, he gestured for me to sit on the couch, and he joined me there. He gave me a scrutinizing look, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. “I don’t always read people correctly, but I can tell something is bothering you.”
“Is it that obvious?”
He nodded solemnly, and my heart broke a little. I had put off the conversation in the car, but I couldn’t procrastinate any longer.
I cleared my throat. “Clay, you’re a wonderful man but—”
“You just can’t live without me.” His grin was all teeth, reminding me of the Cheshire cat.
“That’s not what I was about to say.”
He chuckled. “I know. You were going to give me the boot, weren’t you?”
“I…uh…”
“I picked up on your vibe while we were in the car. You’re uneasy with the possibility of something happening between us.” He shifted so he faced me head-on. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable during your trip here. I’ve made it very clear how I feel about you, but I won’t beg you to be with me—”
“I would never want you to feel like you had to do that.”
He smiled sadly. “I know you wouldn’t, but I get it. You’re not interested.”
I should have left it at that, but I didn’t want him to think I was rejecting him because there was something wrong with him. It had nothing to do with him personally…it was all because of my own issues. “It’s not that I’m not interested. I’m just better off on my own.” I reached over and patted his hand. “You deserve everything you want. A wife. Kids. The whole shebang. And I can’t give that to you.”
He hesitated, and turned, leaning an arm on one leg. “Just to clarify, you can’t because you don’t have feelings for me. Is that correct?”
His words hung in the air, and I wa
s tempted to agree, but that would have been deceitful. Somehow, I had to get through this conversation without lying. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying exactly?”
“I like you, but I already know in my gut this won’t work.”
He opened his mouth and looked as if he might argue, but then he pressed his lips together and nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I won’t push myself on you. I’ll be here if you change your mind.”
“Can we be friends?”
He swallowed hard and glanced away. “Of course.”
At the realization that we’d had the talk and the potential for more than friendship had been severed, my eyes teared up, but I turned so he wouldn’t notice. I didn’t like this any more than he did, but it was necessary for both of us.
“Great.” I stood and felt a little light-headed as I did. “I should get back to Sabrina. Make sure she’s not having any pre-wedding jitters.”
“Okay. We’ll talk later.” His brown eyes filled with sadness, and I wanted to draw him in for a hug, but I resisted the urge.
I walked out of his office and let out a heavy breath, feeling tired and numb and like a hypocrite. Here I was a therapist, able to help people express their true feelings, yet I couldn’t even tell Clay how I really felt because that would open up a whole can of worms I wasn’t ready to deal with.
I hated myself for being like this, but the alternative was worse. If I invested in this relationship, I would have to open up about my infertility.
And I just couldn’t do that.
Chapter 4
Jazmin
The next day was a Sunday, and even though we were all tired from traveling, we decided to go to Clay and Hunter’s church in Anchor Point. The plan was to have lunch in town afterward and then drop by Hunter’s home so he could loan me his truck.
The church was called Gospel Hope, and it was a pale-yellow building with a brown roof and a steeple on top. There was room for about a hundred and fifty people, but about half that many were in attendance as we strode through the double doors into the small space. Our family took up a couple of pews, and as we settled in before the service started, the locals greeted us and asked where we were from.
Sabrina and her sisters spoke to a couple sitting in front of us, and I scanned the room for Clay. He was staying in his cabin so we didn’t drive over together. I knew I shouldn’t look for him, but I couldn’t help myself. When the pianist played an opening hymn, we all stood and sang along with the congregation. Clay was still nowhere to be seen, and I felt the weight of disappointment on my shoulders. We’d just talked yesterday, so it was hard to explain why I needed to see his face again…hear his deep voice. It was like this consuming desire that took over, and I was powerless to resist its clutches. It was ridiculous since I shouldn’t concern myself with where he was, but there was a restless feeling inside me that wouldn’t go away until I saw him.
While everyone sang Great is Thy Faithfulness, I closed my eyes and prayed silently. Lord, help me to move past these feelings for Clay. Help me to be content with the life you’ve given me.
I blew out a breath, a heaviness weighing on my heart I couldn’t explain. I wanted circumstances to be different from what they were, but I also understood that fighting God’s will was pointless. He had given me a life of singleness, and there were so many things to be thankful for in regard to that particular journey. Marriage and kids were not the only rewarding path. Plenty of people lived very fulfilling lives without ever getting married or having children. I just had to remember that.
Someone squeezed my shoulder, and I turned to find Clay standing in the pew behind me. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, and there was a sadness there that tugged at my heartstrings. He seemed a little down, his hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders rounded forward, expression weary as if he hadn’t slept well. He’d pulled his hair back into a ponytail and trimmed his beard. The result was striking, and I couldn’t look away. I waved and returned his smiled with one of my own, feeling a measure of relief that he was here. There was an energy from his presence that calmed me down and gave me a sense that everything was right in the world even though it definitely wasn’t.
I turned around and closed my eyes. This is so hard. I wanted to stand next to him, to be a regular part of his life. I sensed that he wanted that too which only made it harder.
We sang a few more songs and then the pastor, a man appearing to be in his late fifties, opened the word to Romans 12:1-2 and began reading out loud.
“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
He talked about those verses in detail, explaining how understanding God’s mercy led us to present ourselves to Him. He spoke about how God wanted everything: heart, soul, mind, and body. No longer were animal sacrifices necessary as they had been in the Old Testament. He was asking us to put our bodies on the altar metaphorically, to worship Him by offering up our own lives.
He read 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 next. “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.”
As I sat there and listened, the Word of God was living and active and sharper than a double-edged sword, piercing right through me, showing me what I lacked. God wanted my body. As broken as it was. Unable to bear children. He wanted my all. He wanted me to give everything I was to Him. And everything I wasn’t.
Those verses shined a light on what I was holding back, and it hurt to face the stark reality. From the moment I’d found out I couldn’t have kids, I’d held back a piece of my heart. I’d given Him everything else…everything except that one small part. It was the portion that believed only marriage and children would make me happy, and here I was, miserable because it felt like He was withholding those things from me.
The pastor closed with Psalm forty-two. He read the first two verses slowly. “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?”
When we bowed our heads to pray, I asked the Lord to help me love Him with all my heart and not to hold back the part that was hurting.
Heal my heart, Lord. Help me not to be ashamed of what I can’t change. Take my life and use it for your glory. My eyes teared up as I prayed, and a river of peace swept over me, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. No matter what happened, God was still with me.
The next moment was almost strange. I had the strongest sense that I needed to talk about my infertility with someone. To not hold it inside of me like a secret. The thought was both liberating and horrifying, and I had no idea how to do that or who I was supposed to share it with. We all stood, and a verse flashed across a white screen behind the pastor.
“In our parting benediction,” the pastor said, “let’s recite Ephesians 1:5 together.”
Everyone in the room read in unison. “He predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will.”
The word “adoption” jumped out at me as I spoke the words out loud. It was an analogy, but it was also real. The Lord had adopted me in the spiritual sense, and if He used that concept to explain His love and protection, then surely adoption was a beautiful thing.
It wasn’t as if I didn’t believe that before, but reading Ephesians 1:5 made me pause and think about it more deeply. Maybe there was a guy out there who would also see it as beautiful, and perhaps that man would not need years to consider such an endeavor as I had originally believed. I wanted that man to be Clay, but I wasn’t ready to let myself go there—t
o hope in that way. Still, the idea was encouraging.
Adopting a child might not be in my future, but I decided right then and there that I would pray about it. It was time to stop holding myself back from the desires of my heart because of fear and shame.
The pastor held up a hand. “Before you leave, I’d like to make an announcement. Little Amy Johnson is in the hospital because of an asthma attack. Her parents have said they welcome visitors and they ask that you pray for her recovery.”
My heart went out to the girl, and I was compelled to offer up a quick prayer for her and her family.
The pastor dismissed us, and I felt lighter than I had in years.
A woman with light brown hair walked over with a tall man at her side, and Sabrina introduced me to them. I learned their names were Callie and Derek, and they were good friends of Hunter. We chatted for a while and then Derek made eye contact with someone behind us.
“Hey, Clay.” He moved around us to speak with him, and my heart sped up in awareness of his presence.
“Poor Amy,” Callie said. “She’s only five years old, and she’s such a sweetheart. I’m considering stopping by the hospital today.”
It felt like God had refreshed me from the inside out with His word, and I desperately wanted to be of use to someone else. I was tired of thinking about myself and my own hurts. It was time to give back even if it was only in a small way. “I’d love to go with you if you don’t mind me tagging along.”
Callie’s eyebrows flew up. “That would be great. I would love for you to join me.” She glanced at Sabrina. “Would you like to come too?”
Sabrina winced. “I wish I could but Mom wants to go over the wedding plans with me at lunch.”
“Oh, do you want me to be there?” I asked.
She waved me off. “No, it’s not necessary. She’s really just rehashing everything for her own reassurance. You should go with Callie.”
“All right, thanks, I will.”
Christmas With An Alaskan Man (An Alaskan Romance Series Book 3) Page 3
