Plum Upside Down (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 5)

by Valerie Comer

  “Sorry.” She folded her hands in her lap. Perspective on what, then? Why else would a person get dunked in a barely-heated tank? It certainly wasn’t for the fun of standing in front of the church with no makeup, dripping wet.

  He was quiet. Probably praying.

  How could she think this was going to work? He had an actual relationship with God, and it mattered to him. She’d lost her way. She’d tipped her hand so he knew her faith was a barren wasteland. Fake it ’til you make it was no longer an option.

  Lord, where’s the sweet water in this desert? The oasis where Keanan gathers strength and refreshment? Please, Lord. I want to want more of You. I want to love You like he does.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d prayed similar words. It wasn’t the first time she sat there, waiting, and felt nothing stir. If God were really all-powerful, couldn’t He give her at least a whisper inside her to show the way? Maybe He didn’t love her as much as He loved others. She was still His child, just a second-rate one. Maybe it was okay to sit on the sidelines. Not everyone could crowd onto God’s lap and be His favorite, after all.

  Her heart clenched. It was not okay. Not when she caught a glimpse of how much adoration Keanan felt for his Savior.

  “Does God love you, Chelsea?” His words were so quiet she barely heard them over the voices in her head.

  She knew the right answer. “Yes. He loves everyone. That’s why Jesus died for us.” At least she had salvation.

  Keanan nodded slowly, his green eyes holding hers. “But you. Personally. Individually.”

  “In theory.” She shrank back. He knew too much.

  “In reality?”

  Her hands, twisting in her lap, required her attention. “Not so much.”

  “Accepting that love, embracing it, is an act of faith that will set you free.”

  Chelsea’s chin shot up. “And where does one find faith? Can you conjure it out of thin air? You think I haven’t tried?”

  “If I took you mountain climbing, would you wear a blindfold?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Not even if I promised you’d be fine? There’d be no way you could fall, because I would catch you. Every. Single. Time.”

  She shook her head.

  “What if I were God?”

  “You’re not.”

  Keanan nodded. “You’re right. There is a chance something might go wrong, and I couldn’t save you from pain. But God can keep that promise. For sure. No ifs, ands, or buts. Do you believe that He is able?”

  Chelsea took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “Then step out on the ledge.”

  “What ledge? Stop talking in riddles, Keanan. You aren’t making any sense.”

  “If you say you believe—”

  She leaned forward, mouth open in protest.

  “Just hear me out. If you say you believe but don’t live like it, then you are implying that God isn’t trustworthy. That He’s lying.”

  Chelsea surged to her feet. “You’re saying I’m not even a Christian?”

  “No. Not at all. I’m saying that the evil one wants you to believe you are not worth anything to Jesus, but it’s not true. You are wearing the shackles when they cannot hold you. Faith is an action, Chelsea. It’s not enough to say, I believe. It is up to you to learn the facts that God has put in His word.”

  He tapped his open Bible, drawing her gaze toward the book.

  “Then, when the doubts come, you can point to the words that counter the doubts. You can announce and claim God’s promise. Repeat as necessary, asking God’s help. He will do it, Chelsea. Jesus said, ask and it will be given to you. Seek, and you will find. It’s a promise He can keep.”

  She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “That sounds like fake it ’til you make it to me.”

  Keanan shook his head. “It’s not. The difference is that you’re not pretending everything is fine. You are claiming God’s promises, taking a step of faith that He will hold up His end. And He always does.”

  He shifted his Bible over, revealing a few index cards. He slid them to the place she’d been sitting, the little chain holding them together whispering across the tabletop.

  “What’s that?” Yes, she could take the few steps closer and see for herself, but did she want to?

  “Promises, Chelsea. Promises He’s made to you. Promises you can read and claim every single day. As many times a day as you need to.”

  She eyed the cards. “Like what?”

  “Like this one from Psalm 103. Measure how high heaven is above the earth. God’s wide, loving, kind heart is greater for those who revere Him.”

  Chelsea bit her lip. “What else?”

  Keanan turned a few cards over. “This is from Romans 8. No matter what comes, we will always taste victory through Him who loved us. For I have every confidence that nothing — not death, life, heavenly messengers, dark spirits, the present, the future, spiritual powers, height, depth, nor any created thing — can come between us and the love of God revealed in the Anointed, Jesus our Lord.”

  “What version are you reading from? That doesn’t sound like anything I’ve heard before.”

  “It’s from The Voice.” He held her gaze. “There are several others that put God’s words into today’s terms, that can cut through some of the archaic language we’ve heard forever. Sometimes new wording can bump our brains into seeing things a new way.”

  Hadn’t Claire said the same thing? Was a renewed relationship with God as simple as reading an up-to-date translation? Going over the verses Keanan had copied out for her and claiming them as God’s promises to her?

  His bold, even scrawl across the white note cards caught at her breath. He’d done this for her. Because he cared more about her spiritual life than about them as a couple. She couldn’t be offended by that. She wouldn’t want to hold him back from being the man God wanted him to be. But maybe — just maybe — there was hope for her yet. She couldn’t focus on the possibility of a relationship with him as a reward. This craving for a deeper life — didn’t the Bible call it an abundant life? — had been present before Keanan had strolled into her life. Before she’d come to Green Acres.

  She took the few steps to the table and sank back into her chair before touching the stack of cards. She flipped through them, unable to make out the words through tears that blurred her vision. “Thanks.” The word came out in a croak.

  Keanan’s hands covered hers overtop of the promises he’d copied for her. “Chelsea, I want to pray over you from Ephesians 3. May I do that?”

  She choked out the word, “Sure.”

  His thumbs caressed her palms. “This is only a very slight paraphrase of verses sixteen through nineteen from The Voice. You’ll see when you read the verses again later, okay?”

  She nodded, still staring down.

  “Father, out of Your honorable and glorious riches, strengthen Chelsea. Fill her soul with the power of Your Spirit so that through faith the Anointed One will reside in her heart. May love be the rich soil where her life takes root. May it be the bedrock where her life is founded so that together with all of Your people she will have the power to understand that the love of the Anointed is infinitely long, wide, high, and deep, surpassing everything anyone previously experienced. God, may Your fullness flood Chelsea’s entire being. Amen.”

  That was in the Bible? Really? Oh, not with her name exactly, but Keanan was right. The words spoke deeply into her soul. Please, God, may Your fullness flood my entire being.

  She swiped at tears dribbling down her cheeks from behind her glasses. Was this the start? Could she really feel God’s love and presence in a tangible way? Keanan said he did. Claire. Sierra. Surely it was open to her, too. Why wouldn’t it be?

  Keanan pressed a cloth handkerchief into her hands, and she dabbed at her face. He’d seen her with blotchy makeup before. If it hadn’t scared him off before, it wouldn’t likely today.

  She managed to get out one word. “Thanks
.”

  “Chelsea, I’m going now.”

  “No!” She clutched at his hand. “Please stay.”

  “This is between you and God, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Oh. Kay.”

  “Text me later?” His thumb caught a tear on her cheek and wiped it away. A moment later the door quietly clicked shut behind him.

  Chelsea took a deep breath and focused on the open Bible and note cards on her table. She riffled through the stack. References from Isaiah, from Psalms, from John, from Zephaniah caught her eye. She pulled the Bible, open to Ephesians, closer. She’d start with rereading that prayer.

  Chapter 25

  Keanan picked up his guitar. Fingers caught the strings, creating melodies without conscious thought. He might be sitting in his own little house, but his heart, his thoughts, his prayers surrounded Chelsea at her kitchen table.

  He worked his way through favorite worship songs by Chris Tomlin. Matt Redman. Phil Wickham. Others. Doerksen’s song Hallelujah! Your Love is Amazing was one that had gotten to Chelsea a few weeks ago. He could only pray that the God-song would rise up in her, too. That God’s love would make her sing.

  As he played and rested in the words, he prayed for Chelsea.

  She’d reached out to him, of all people. This was both exhilarating and terrifying. Hosting Alpha for so many weeks, watching Wesley, Diana, and others slowly grasp a new life in Jesus had been one of the most amazing experiences of his life. Right up there with some of the mission trips he’d been on and the teaching moments those had brought him.

  But... Chelsea.

  So much was at stake. He had to give that to God, too. He couldn’t beg God on her behalf for his own sake, for the hope of their potential future together. Thankfully Chelsea wasn’t playing that card. She knew this moment in her life was about far more than him.

  It didn’t stop his thoughts from sidling to that future. He’d been rehearsing the songs he’d play and sing for Brent and Allison’s wedding next weekend, all the while dreaming of singing them into Chelsea’s upturned face, her love for him shining from her sparkling blue eyes.

  He’d seen glimpses of that love as a tiny seed. Would it gain ground, grow, blossom?

  Keanan stopped the strings’ vibration with one hand across the sound hole and touched his forehead to the curved wood. Lord, help her feel Your love! Then show us the way forward. If there is one.

  He didn’t want to go to Africa with this unresolved between them. He was flying in just over a week, and it was too late to back out.

  A light tap sounded on his door, and he surged to his feet. Chelsea?

  The door opened and his mother’s head poked around. “Keanan? Oh, good, you’re home. I hoped to catch you here.”

  “Come on in.” He leaned the guitar on its stand.

  “Oh, please. If you were playing, continue. I’ve missed listening to you.”

  He’d been playing for Chelsea. For a quiet time with Jesus. “Maybe later. May I fix you a coffee? Tea, perhaps?”

  “Whichever you prefer.” She followed him across the space and climbed onto a stool at the island. “I can hardly believe how beautiful your home is. When you told me you were fixing up a grain bin, I didn’t imagine this.”

  He turned the kettle on and chuckled. “Chelsea didn’t either.” He bit his tongue, but his mother didn’t need more of an opening than that.

  “Funny you should mention her. I stopped by her place on my way here, but the door was locked. I’m surprised she felt it necessary, whether she was in or out, especially as her car was parked out front.”

  Keanan eyed his mother. “Chelsea had some things to pray through this afternoon. She probably didn’t want to be disturbed.” Had she turned the lock to keep him out? No, he wasn’t letting his thoughts go there. Nor did he wish to elaborate to his mother. That wasn’t fair to Chelsea.

  Mother nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on his. “I understand. She is the girl you spoke of on the phone a few weeks ago, isn’t she?”

  There was no reason to deny it. “Yes.”

  “She seems a lovely girl.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ve offered to donate some items to her Christmas fundraiser in Portland, so I’ll be connecting with her again in a couple of weeks.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” He poured boiling water over the coffee grounds in his French press. There was silence for a few minutes while the brew steeped. He pushed down the plunger, poured coffee into two mugs, and set one in front of each of them.

  She cradled it between her hands and looked up at him. “I don’t want to pressure you to talk about her, but I’m willing to listen if you want to.”

  “There isn’t much to say at the moment. We have acknowledged a mutual attraction, but she has things to work through, and I’m leaving soon. God alone knows how this will end. If we are destined to be together.” Or not. But he couldn’t say those words out loud. “My one request is prayer for her. For me.”

  “I can do that.” She sipped the coffee. “So tell me more about your life here. I didn’t believe you would ever stay in one spot until you texted pictures of this place looking like a real home.”

  “Can you call it staying in one spot if I’m still planning trips?”

  She chuckled. “Perhaps. What does Chelsea think of that?”

  “Let’s just say that it’s part of the bigger issue.”

  Mother nodded. “I see.”

  Most likely she did not. “But yes, I’ve found a home base here. Good friends who value God’s creation. Honest work growing and preparing food. A local church where I can serve in various ways.”

  “Alpha?”

  “That and music.” Keanan glanced over at the guitar. “I also teach Sunday school from time to time. But, yes, Alpha has been the big one recently.”

  She reached across the island and laid her bejeweled hand over his. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of the man you’ve become? I’m sorry your father and I ripped your world apart when you were a child. I feared we’d done permanent damage to you.”

  He’d felt the same at the time. Broken. Torn.

  “But God has answered my prayers for you.” She smiled. “At least since I came to know Him and began to pray at all. He is so good.”

  “Yes, He is. Thank you for sharing your faith with me. For modeling it in my life.” Like he was trying to do for Chelsea, maybe.

  Mother sipped her coffee. “I asked Sandra Riehl when they were driving through Spokane to see if they could drop me off at the airport. To save you a trip, you understand.”

  He tilted his head at her.

  “She offered me a ride the whole way, and I was able to get a credit on my airfare.”

  “I have to say that the thought of you with Chelsea’s parents for the better part of a day is slightly terrifying.”

  She smirked. “I’m not sure what you have to be afraid of. They’re a lovely family. We’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m glad you could come to Idaho on such short notice.”

  “Me, too. Thank you for inviting me back into your life. You’ll find that I’m quite hard to get rid of, now that I know where you live.”

  “As it should be.”

  * * *

  The doorknob rattled a second time. “Chelsea?”

  Mom’s voice. They were leaving in the morning. She really couldn’t hold to the private time she’d indulged in since Keanan left. She glanced at the clock. It had been two hours? No wonder people were looking for her.

  “Coming.” She crossed the space and unlocked the door to see her mother’s worried frown.

  “Chelsea? What’s wrong? You’ve been crying.”

  It turned her face blotchy. Always had. “I’m okay. Really.” She stepped aside as Mom came in then closed out the November wind.

  “Tell me, sweetheart.”

  The same word Keanan had used. Chelsea ran her fingers through her curls. She must look
a sight.

  “Did that man break your heart?”

  Chelsea stared at her mother. “What?”

  “Keanan Welsh.”

  “Break my h—? No.” Not yet, anyway. Maybe it would be the other way around. At least they’d finally acknowledged their hearts were both engaged, though.

  “Then what happened?”

  Chelsea rubbed her temples. “It’s just... Mom, how do you know God loves you?”

  Her mother dropped into a chair beside the table. “This is not the question I was expecting to hear.”

  “I’m sure. But humor me, please.”

  “Okay.” Mom watched her pensively. “For starters, the Bible says He does.”

  Chelsea nodded. Waited for more.

  “He demonstrated that love by dying on the cross.”

  “He loves everyone. He died for everyone.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re talking about?” Mom’s brow furrowed.

  “Not exactly. How do you know God loves you?”

  Mom’s gaze landed on the table. Keanan’s Bible lay open. Note cards with his handwriting littered the surface. A heap of used tissues crowded around the box they’d come from.

  “I see...” she said slowly. “Do you doubt Grandma Riehl’s love for you?”

  That was easy. “Never.”

  “But your grandmother has fourteen grandchildren. Are you sure she loves you, or just everyone as a group?”

  “I see what you’re getting at, Mom, but it doesn’t hold up. Fourteen is a far cry from the billions of people alive today, let alone throughout history.”

  “Grandma loves you with ferocity. She watched you kids for years while I worked at the clinic. After school as you got older.”

  “I know.”

  “She knew what made each of you kids tick. You and your cousins. She knew you were the quiet one. She didn’t forget about you because you weren’t pushing into the front like your sister.”

  It was true. Grandma always had a special smile for her, no matter what. She’d been gone for five years now, and Chelsea still thought about her nearly every day.