by Mary Manners
He seemed unfazed by her sudden change in demeanor. His sneakers slapped the gravel as his long stride easily closed the gap between them. “I’m telling you, it’s true.” He paused when they reached the expansive covered porch that wrapped around the front of the cabin. He set his boxes beside the front door then took hers and did the same. “Here, sit down.”
Reluctantly, Jade slid into an oversized rocker and crossed her arms while Shane found a seat in one beside her. They were silent as gentle, rhythmic creaking filled the air. Slowly, the tension left her.
Shane folded his hands in his lap and sighed. “It’s pretty amazing, huh?”
“Hmmm.” As Jade’s vision adjusted to the darkness stars formed a quilt that gathered the lullaby of nature beneath it. “My mother saw Heaven…I mean, she claims to have seen it.” Even now, after having come to terms with the very idea, Jade felt silly relating it. How could her mother, the woman who’d made such a disastrous mess of her life, have seen Heaven when Jade still struggled with questions about her faith?
“Really? Tell me.”
She gathered her thoughts and searched for the right words. “She suffered a massive heart attack two months ago. I nearly lost her.”
“I’m so sorry, Jade.”
The sound of her name on his lips still startled her. “No, it’s OK. Oddly enough, it was a good thing. You see, my mother has changed. She’s…”
“Transformed?”
“Yes. Exactly. It’s the strangest thing.” There was no other way to describe it. She thought of the numerous letters her mom had sent over the years and pictured her just that afternoon, fussing over a batch of chocolate chip cookies she’d baked for the retreat.
She was in awe of her mother’s efforts and pleased as a three-year-old with a new puppy on Christmas morning. Her mom, as far back as she could remember, had never baked even store-bought dough, and now she’d whipped up soft, warm cookies from scratch. And although Mama showed all the signs of a life of hard drinking and smoking in her thinning gray hair and weatherworn skin, her sandy-brown eyes glowed with the promise of new life.
“So, that’s why you came back here?” Shane’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“Uh-huh. I’ve been staying with Mama, helping her around the house until she gets her strength back.” If she gets her strength back, a voice inside nagged. The doctor had cautioned there were no guarantees. He’d patched up Mama the best he could. If another attack was going to happen, chances were it would be soon. Jade shuddered at the thought.
“And then?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out.”
“You left once before...”
“Yes, I did.” Actually, she’d run away. Being eighteen at the time didn’t change that fact. And little had been resolved in the ten years she’d been gone. In fact, she’d merely plowed the hole of resentment and despair that much deeper, despite Mama’s best efforts to smooth things over, to repair a rift that dwarfed the Grand Canyon. “But ten years changes things.”
“Yes, it does.” His eyes filled with longing. He reached for Jade’s hand and his touch was a rush of heat on a wintry day. He had his own secrets and hurts tucked away in the dark recesses of his heart, she was sure. A part of Jade longed to know his heart, but that could never be. She forced the thought away and let go of his hand.
This feeling was too dangerous and definitely not in her plans. She needed to help her mother get well and then find her own place here and get on with her life—if she decided to stay. The administrative job at the church was just a stepping stone. Surely, she’d eventually find something in her area of teaching once the next school year began. She’d go where she had to, if her mom was feeling stronger.
“Like I said, God will guide you if you listen. Do you want to pray, Jade?” Shane’s voice snuggled around her thoughts.
“P-pray?” He’d said it with an ease that both fascinated and unsettled her. “Um...I don’t know...” To her dismay, praying with others wasn’t something she felt comfortable doing. Sure, she spoke to God. But her prayers weren’t fancy or flowery like the ones she remembered hearing the few times her mother, between boyfriends, had taken her to the burnt-brick building down the street from their trailer park. Instead, she prayed like she was talking to a friend. She probably did it wrong, but she didn’t worry too much about it—unless someone else was listening.
“Then I’ll pray for you.” His strong, calloused hand found hers and he bowed his head. His voice, coaxing like warm molasses, sighed over the darkness.
“Dear Lord, I humble myself before You as I ask for guidance for Jade. Make Your will known in her life. Please be with her mother. Grant her full healing from the debilitating heart attack.”
His voice calmed Jade’s restless nerves.
“And, Lord, heal Jade from the heartache she’s endured as well. Wrap her in Your grace. For it’s in Your name I pray. Amen.”
A thickness filled Jade’s throat and burrowed deep into her chest, making it impossible to speak. Perhaps because of the tears filling her eyes the sky glowed brighter, as if countless candles flickered just for her. Shane’s hand warmed hers, and she was hesitant to let go.
“Th-thank you,” she managed to say.
“Are you crying?”
“N-no!” Jade brushed a hand across her cheek, dismayed to feel moisture, and tried not to sniffle. “I’m just...tired.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Shane released her hand and she felt the cold rush in. “I’m going to hit the hay. I’m beat.”
“I think I’ll stay a little longer, if that’s OK.” She would revel in this feeling of belonging if it lasted only briefly.
“Sure.” His voice was barely a gentle whisper above the song of cicadas. “See you in the morning.”
His prayer lingered in her mind. She thought about Claire and how she had been there over the years, through thick and thin, despite the geographical distance between them. Claire had grown to know Shane through church events and the fact that her niece was active in the youth program at Piney Grove. She’d admitted she steered Jade to the administrative position knowing Jade would be required to work with him. Jade was miffed over that, but the sting was beginning to ease. It was impossible to stay angry at Claire.
Claire would be married come August. She and Garrett shared a strong faith. Jade longed for that kind of faith, for the completeness it seemed to bring to her friend, and more recently, her mother.
****
Although he was exhausted, sleep eluded Shane. It was impossible to get comfortable on the lumpy, squeaky cot that cried out in agony every time he shifted. He listened to Susie’s soft, steady breathing as she slumbered peacefully, sprawled in a sleeping bag on the floor beside him. She’d hit it off immediately with Jade, which was surprising. Since Reid’s passing she’d been slow to bond with anyone but him.
Shane massaged the scar near the top of his scalp that was concealed beneath his unruly dark hair. Sometimes it still throbbed, a kind of phantom pain that he figured was meant to remind him of his less-than-sterling past. He remembered an angry screech of high-performance tires skidding across wet pavement, the sickening crunch of sports-car metal twisting and shredding as if it were mere scraps of aluminum foil. Shattering glass and horrific, terrified screams mixed with a metallic smell of blood were the worst of all the memories. Some nights, it still echoed through his head like the replay of a bad movie, startling him awake in a cold sweat during lonely pre-dawn hours.
And he thought about the days that followed the accident, when he wondered how he could ever forgive himself for the near-fatal mistake he’d made. Those were gut-wrenching, dark days when he felt as if he were hopelessly lost in a cave with no means of escape.
Bryce had forgiven him...eventually. Now their friendship was stronger than steel. But it hadn’t been easy. Bryce had lost a promising future of touchdowns and fame, but somehow he’d found a different path, one he insisted was mor
e satisfying than a Super Bowl win. His shattered legs had mended, and they carried him all over the country as an inspirational speaker. He no longer ran, yet he knew victory. And he’d forgiven Shane...much easier than Shane had forgiven himself.
And then Shane had lost Reid, and Susie had come into his life to stay. At the time, he’d thought the responsibility of raising a child, being tied down by something—someone—so helpless and needy, was the worst possible thing. He could barely take care of himself. But now…
His mind shifted to Jade. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to her. Running into her in the parking lot her first day at the church had caused a gut-punch the same as it had over and over again ten years earlier, every time he’d seen her in the school hallways. Of course, back then, he’d never have admitted having a thing for her. His friends would have laughed him right out of their tight-knit circle. He’d been callous and shallow. The thought of it sickened him.
Now, holding Jade’s delicate hand, even in the innocence of prayer, was electrifying. There was something about her that drew him, something he couldn’t explain. He just felt it. And honestly, it was more than a little unsettling. He found himself passing by the church office during the work day just to catch a glimpse of her intriguing smile and to snatch a piece of colorful candy from the jar on her desk.
She was standoffish for the most part, though, like he was someone to fear. Maybe in the past that had been true. Could he really blame her after that day on the coaster? She had no idea something deep inside him had begun to change that night. It became a twisting and tugging on his heart that simply would not let go. Over the years, he’d been through the fire, so to speak. And he’d come out stronger simply because he no longer relied on his own strength, but that of his Savior.
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13 came to him as easily as breathing. How could he make Jade see he wasn’t the same self-absorbed guy he’d been during high school? And would he have enough time? He knew she’d returned to care for her mother, but just how long would she stay?
“What should I do, Lord?” he murmured into the darkness.
A whisper breathed over the night sounds. I will guide you if you listen.
Mended Heart
3
“Watch out!” Shane slammed into Jade with the force of a linebacker. She sprawled flat on her back across slippery-cold ice. A forest-green knit cap pulled down over her ears softened the blow to her head. Optic stars danced. She sucked in breath.
“Sorry!” Shane’s eyes flew wide with concern. “Are you OK?” Matted hair peeked from beneath the Tennessee Smokies baseball cap he’d propped backwards on his head.
“I...I...” No words broke through the tightness in Jade’s chest. Top-forty music from the rink’s surround-sound speakers faded in and out as she waited for the world to right itself on its axis. She shifted carefully, feeling for broken bones. The need for triage was becoming a common occurrence in Shane’s presence.
How did such a klutz become the star quarterback in high school?
Her arms and legs seemed to be working OK, but maybe one of her fingers was broken. Hard to tell, since all ten had lost feeling a good twenty minutes ago.
“Should I get a medic?”
Jade managed to shake her head. “You—know—you—really—should—watch—where—you’re—going.”
Shane grimaced. “I was, but my feet refused to listen to my brain.”
“A likely excuse.” The world came into focus. “Give me a little help, please?”
“My pleasure.” He offered a hand; Jade took it. She was sure his fingers were as cold as hers since he refused to wear gloves, asserting it broke some man law. She lumbered to her knees, planting one wobbly skate on the ice before Shane lost his own footing and tumbled in a tangled heap beside her, knocking them both backward again.
“Ouch!” Jade struggled to catch her breath, pulling the knit cap tighter over her disheveled hair. “This is becoming an annoying habit, you knocking me down.” She lay there for a moment while the ice melted into her clothes, making her shiver. Her feet were painfully blistered in the too-small rental skates, her toes on the brink of frostbite.
“Well, everyone has a hidden talent.”
“If this is your hidden talent, I wish it would stay that way—hidden.” Then she laughed at Shane sprawled on the ice beside her, his baseball cap twisted askew. His smiling eyes drew her in, and she remembered why she’d fallen so hard for him.
Skaters from the youth group swerved to avoid running into them, laughing and hooting as they whizzed by.
Susie glided over and frowned. “Daddy, you look like a giant octopus with your arms and legs twisted.”
Daddy...that single word changed everything. Jade scooted over the ice, putting distance between them.
“Thanks a lot, smarty-pants.” Shane adjusted his ball cap and grinned ruefully. “That little sprite skates better than the two of us put together.”
“At least I’m not knocking everybody down.” Jade brushed a layer of shaved ice from the seat of her jeans and found her footing.
Shane offered her a hand, and she shook her head. She struggled to her feet on her own. “Well, at least I’m not hanging onto the wall like a lifeline.”
“It’s not nice to tease.” Susie propped a mittened hand on each hip. “Jade’s shivering. She’s awful cold.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Jade. “Wrap yourself in this. How about some hot chocolate? Look, there’s an empty table by the fireplace.”
“That sounds wonderful.” The jacket swallowed her and the clean scent of Shane’s aftershave clung to the fabric. Spearmint wafted from a pack of gum he’d jammed into the side pocket. “Thanks.” She scooted hand over hand along the wall. She didn’t care how much Shane gawked. She longed for the warmth of the fire.
“I want to skate more, Daddy. Can I, please?” Susie gazed up at them with huge, expectant eyes.
“Sure. We’ll watch you from that table over by the fireplace while we drink our hot chocolate.” Shane motioned to the café near the entrance to the rink. “Just be careful, OK?”
Susie thrust out her chest. Pigtails Jade had braided earlier swung from beneath her knit cap. “Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to run me over.”
“Sure, little hotshot.” He patted her head. “Just be careful, anyway.”
Jade and Shane settled at a table overlooking the rink. Heat from the nearby fireplace kissed their skin. At the food service counter across the room a teenage girl, dressed in a crimson Ober Gatlinburg T-shirt, called out food order numbers to waiting diners. The aroma of grilled hamburgers topped with sautéed onions and melted cheese filled the air.
“Oh, I can almost feel my fingers again.” Jade wrapped her hands around a foam cup and sipped hot chocolate topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. Steam rose to warm her nose. “This tastes wonderful.”
“Hits the spot.” Shane leaned back and stretched his long, powerful legs. “Warming up?”
“My hands feel a little better.” She wiggled her fingers. “But I still can’t feel my toes. I think they’re permanently damaged.”
“Let’s see. Take off your skates.”
She tucked her hands into the pockets of the jacket he’d given her. “I don’t think I can manage the laces. My fingers don’t seem to want to cooperate.” She slid her feet farther beneath the table. No way was she letting him anywhere near her feet—or any other part of her, for that matter.
He’s married...he has a child.
“Here, let me.” Before she could protest, Shane fell to his knees and reached for a skate. He undid the laces and Jade grimaced while he tugged. Pins and needles pricked her feet as one skate clunked to the floor, then another. He laughed. “Nice socks.”
She wiggled toes clad in vibrant pink and purple fuzzy stripes. “Don’t laugh. They’re warm.”
“If you say so.” He touc
hed a toe. “Wow, that’s cold.”
“Hands off.” She pulled back. “I’ll take it from here.”
Waves of pain shot up her legs as she stood and waddled over to the fire. She turned her back to Shane and struggled to compose herself. His touch was gentle, his caress like a flame that ignited a longing deep in the pit of her belly. She knew her face was as red as her frostbitten hands. She needed a moment to steady her breathing.
What was she doing here, chaperoning a trip with the same guy who’d manhandled her as a teenager, whom she despised during high school? He’d turned her heart inside out with his callous, peer-induced attitude. Leaving here a decade ago had been a smart move, and returning now, especially to a job that threw her together with him, was nothing but dangerous.
She could definitely feel her fingers now. Her hands shook, and she clenched them to gain control. Her whole body felt ignited, like Shane had stoked a flame to life inside her. She forced the feeling away. She could do this. She’d get through today, and tomorrow she’d return to life as usual, whatever that was. She plastered on a smile.
When she returned to the table, he was nursing a soda.
“Don’t you want to drink something warm?” She slid into a chair, her breathing nearly back to normal. She kept her toes tucked under the chair, far from his reach.
“Uh-uh. This hits the spot.” He turned to watch the skaters circle, some navigating gracefully among the masses, others tottering along like stiff wooden soldiers.
“Do we look that silly on the ice?” She worked hard to keep her tone even as a gangly kid sprawled face-down and slid into home plate. Somehow Shane crowded all of her thoughts, made it difficult to focus on anything else.
“Well, some of us do.”
“Riley and Sam seem to have the hang of it. And Carly’s not doing too badly, either. She looks happy, at least.” The girl’s dyed-dark hair usually hung like a heavy blanket across her face, hiding sensitive amber eyes, but now Jade could almost sense the exhilaration Carly felt as she glided past them, arms outstretched. Her unhindered smile was contagious.
