After staring at the blue plus-sign on the third pregnancy test, Ruth finally believed the results. She was pregnant. She told him while they were sitting on a bench in the park. The sky was turning from blue to cobalt as a huge orange ball rested on the horizon. “Look at the sun,” Ruth said. “I don’t think I’ve seen it that big before.”
Joe pulled her closer. “Mom and Dad are gone for the weekend.” He always smothered her with attention, making her feel like the most beautiful, sensual, amazing woman on the planet. No one had shown her much love since her dad died, and Joe’s sentimentality fed a hunger she haddn’t realized she’d had.
He pulled her from the bench and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her gently on the lips—a promise of more to come. She trembled in delight as they walked on a deserted path toward Joe’s car. He would be overjoyed at her news.
“I’m pregnant.”
His arm stiffened. “Are you sure? We can get a pregnancy test.”
“I’m sure,” Ruth said, a smile softening her lips.
His eyes turned cold. “Whose baby is it?”
“Whose baby?” The question shocked her. They had been dating for four months. She stared at the face of the man who’d said he loved her. “It’s your baby.”
“But we used condoms all the time.”
“It happens. We talked about it before the first time, remember?” She looked into his tight face and stroked his arm, trying to smooth away his doubt. She wasn’t seeing anyone else—as if she would.
He pulled her toward the car, his grip too tight and his step too quick. “We need to get this taken care of now, before I leave. I’ll take the money out of the bank tomorrow.”
Ruth pulled away, confused.
“Look, I can’t be responsible for a kid right now.” He stared up the path. “I have plans. You know, important things that will make life better for a lot of people. I don’t need this hanging over my head.”
Emotions that she had arranged so neatly in her head now became tangled like a writhing nest of snakes.
He’d taken her home. The next day an envelope arrived by courier. It contained twelve one-hundred dollar bills. No letter. No personal words. Ruth tried to call him. She even went to his house a week later, but he was gone. His mom said he’d left for law school early.
Ruth hid the money under her mattress, the same place it was now. The money equaled blood, and she refused to spend money that represented the life of their child.
And somehow, he’d found out.
The noise of the restaurant blurred. Ruth heard her beating heart, the same heart that Joseph Ackerman broke when he’d refused to acknowledge their pregnancy and left her alone to deal with the life-altering condition. The same heart that beat above that of their child.
How dare he question her motives?
She pushed herself from the table. “I want to go home.”
He stood and faced her. “Wait until I tell your new lover that he wasn’t your first.”
With uncontrollable rage, she planted both of her palms on Joe’s chest and pushed. He stumbled over the chair and crashed against the window.
Heads turned. The room quieted. The sharp crack of glass echoed loudly.
Ruth ran from the room, leaving Joe to deal with the situation.
14
Saturday, June 15
Heavy clouds promised rain before the day ended. Crows dotted the yard, balancing placidly on spindly legs or nestling in the grass. Ruth stared at nothing as she sat on her front stoop, an almost empty glass of iced tea gripped in her hand. The ride home from Myrtle Beach the previous night had been horrible at best: an hour of silence so loud it hurt her ears. Not a word, mile after mile. Joe’s unspoken rage almost smothered her.
The restaurant window didn’t break, but it did crack.
Ruth didn’t know how Joe would retaliate, but he would.
The usual Saturday morning garage sales were forgotten. Ruth wanted to talk to Mr. Charlie, but he never came to the courthouse on weekends, and she had no idea where he lived.
On the edge of town, he had said. That could be anywhere.
Life suddenly had become very complicated. She tipped the glass to her lips and the last of the ice fell onto her tongue. She sucked the coolness until it was gone. Somewhere between pushing Joe into the plate-glass window and arriving home after midnight, she lost the remainder of her dream for a better life. She felt like an empty shell with a face attached. Out of options; out of hope. No matter what decision she made, happiness would elude her. She had failed her mother, who still didn’t know about the pregnancy, failed to meet Joe’s expectations, and now, her past would rob her of the best thing that had ever happened to her: Nate. He could never love a used woman who gave up her child. Mr. Charlie called her the light of Logan. What a joke. She wasn’t the light of anything.
Her bad day turned worse when a truck pulled to the curb, scattering a dozen crows that lingered near the road. Nate was the last person she wanted to see right now. He would notice her mood. She didn’t want to tell him she had accepted a date with Joe, even if the acceptance was under duress. No way could she admit the truth about her past with Joe.
Nate had shared the reason for his animosity toward his cousin, and Ruth didn’t want to be perceived as another one of Joe’s castoff’s. She was not the pure woman Nate deserved. Why had she become involved with this churchy man? Oh, yeah. It started that day at the courthouse; it was Mr. Charlie’s fault—and where was Mr. Charlie today when she needed him?
“Hey.”
Worn athletic shoes, feet attached, stopped in front of her. “May I sit down?”
There wasn’t much space on the stoop. Ruth shifted to the right until the edge of the cement dropped away. Even so, Nate’s body heat reached her. She loved the feel and hated that she loved it.
“You OK?” He stroked the tops of her fingers.
His skin felt hard—a workman’s touch. She shivered as she remembered Joe’s hands from the night before. With effort, she looked straight ahead, her gaze settling on Nate’s truck.
“I took the day off,” Nate said. “I wondered if you might want to do something.”
“You washed your truck.”
“Yep. Taking a chance it’ll hold together without the dirt.”
The crows resettled in the grassy strip near the road. One of the crows, the one with a scar running from eye to wing, fluttered closer and hopped within inches of Ruth’s sandaled foot. She fisted her hands into balls. “I hate that crow!” She jumped up and screamed, “I hate them; I hate them all!”
Nate ran to the yard and flailed an imaginary sword. “Be gone thou foul fowl or I shall smite thee, for thou dost frighten yon maiden fair!”
A beating sound. Birds flew skyward.
“There, all gone, milady.” Nate bent in a bow.
In spite of herself, Ruth laughed.
“That’s more like it.” Nate’s eye softened. “You ought to smile more often.”
“Look behind you.”
In spite of the knightly threat, two crows had returned to the comfort of the shady lawn.
Nate shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t blame a man for trying. So, how about it? Are you up for a road trip?”
Five minutes ago, she would have said no, but now, with smile lines crinkling around his dazzling blue eyes, the heaviness eased. Ruth had no illusions about her relationship with Nate. Sooner or later, he would find out about her past, and then it would be over. But today she would live in the land of pretend, a land where she was beautiful and wanted and where she could ride off into the sunset with the handsome prince. “What do you have in mind?”
“I have a picnic basket in the back of the truck.”
“It looks like rain.”
“Yes, it does, but has it ever rained when you’ve been on a picnic with me?”
“I’ve only been to one picnic.”
“Did it rain?”
“No.”
“Do
you know how to fish?”
“Fish?” Ruth stared at him. “No.”
“Prepare yourself for an adventure.”
~*~
Nate’s legs dangled over the edge of the dock; toes skimmed the top of the water. He loved this place. Loblolly pines tall enough to scrape the clouds and oak trees as old as South Carolina hid the road that stretched along the top of the hill. Gray clouds, now thickened to black in places, blocked the afternoon sun. Each gust of wind brought the promise of rain closer.
Ruth hadn’t talked much, hadn’t spoken more than three full sentences. The feeling that Joe had some responsibility for her depressed mood made his gut tighten. If Joe had hurt her in any way…but he hesitated to ask. It was none of his business, after all.
She stood on the dock, her attention on the pink and white bobber he had bought just for her that rode the ripples in the water. The tip of her tongue slipped between her lips as hair blew around her elfin face. “OK, OK, I think I have it this time!” Just as the bobber sank beneath the surface, she jerked the fishing pole.
“Nice and steady now. Don’t bring him in too fast.”
Ruth reeled in the line. The bobber broke the surface and disappeared again beneath the brown river water. Her face beamed in delight. “I see it! I see my fish!”
Nate scooped the net into the water. “Nicest bream I’ve seen in ages.” He worked the hook from the fish’s mouth and glanced toward Ruth. Eager hands stretch toward him, and he laughed. “Hold it tight and I’ll get a picture.”
“Hurry!” She pranced around on the wood planks, fish held tight in an extended grip. “I think he wants back in the water!”
He wiped his hands on his shorts and pulled the phone from his pocket. No need to tell her to smile.
“Can I put him back now?”
“Unless you want to eat it.”
She blinked. “I can’t. Look at his sweet face.”
Nate took the fish. “My granddaddy always said you have to lower the fish back into the water slowly to allow it to acclimate.” The fish lay still in his hands as he placed it in the water, and then with a flip of its tail, it disappeared in the murky river.
Ruth leaned over his shoulder to watch. “So this is fishing.” Ruth settled onto the dock and wiped her hands on a wet wipe. “It’s beautiful here.”
Nate joined her. “This is my favorite spot. I come here when I need time alone.”
“I was beginning to think there were no fish in this river.”
“I promised you fish.”
“Do you always keep your promise?”
Nate felt Ruth’s gaze and it warmed him. “Yes, I always keep my promises. Want to test me?”
“Well, you were right about the river.”
“Come to church with me tomorrow. I promise you’ll get some benefit from it.”
“It’s going to rain.”
“Church is at the Millers’ tomorrow. We’ll be inside.”
Ruth stared at the river.
Nate followed her gaze. Due to the dry weather, the bank that usually lay hidden beneath dark water showed sprouts of life, like green whiskers on a clay man. Unless it rained, the bank would soon be draped in a thick mangle of vines and weeds. Mid-river lay the sandbar where he had once seen a buck with a ten-point rack. The deer had stood majestic, his head high, master of his environment. Nate had not seen him since.
“So what do you think, Ruth? Are you willing to trust me and come to church tomorrow?” He wasn’t sure why she resisted church. And he didn’t like the black funk she was in when he’d arrived at her house earlier. Something was wrong, and he longed to be the one to fix it.
“Church is important to you; I know it is.” She looked up at him. “What if we trade promises? You tell me three reasons why you go to church. If I like them, I promise to go with you.”
His heart leaped. This would be easy; church was his life. “OK, here goes. First, you get to spend time with people who have similar values.”
“Mom used to take me to the apartment council meetings. Everyone had the same complaints, but nothing changed. I can’t say it was fun.”
“Church is different, but let me give you number two.” Nate paused. What did he get from Sunday that would be meaningful to Ruth? His identity was woven with the white church building on the corner. Time in worship eased his tension, put perspective back where it belonged. But would Ruth understand that? He sought her eyes to make sure she was listening. “OK, each Sunday Pastor Greg shares a sermon that helps us understand the Bible and how it applies to our lives.”
“So your pastor tells you how you should live?”
“No, he tells us what the Bible says about how we should live. The Bible is the word of God. As Christians we try to…no, we want to live a life according to God’s standards. Pastor Greg shares those standards with us.”
“We all have rules we live by.”
“Sure, and as a Christian, I follow God’s rules.”
“So, what about number three?”
Nate licked his lips. He was sinking. This should be easy, and yet here he was, struggling to express why he went to church. Come on God, help me out here. “There is power in singing and praying together. It’s hard to explain, but during corporate worship—that’s what we call group worship—God shows up. You can feel His presence.”
“I’m confused.”
“What’s confusing you?”
“When I first met you, your church building had just been closed. You said that was the worst that could happen.”
“I remember telling you that.”
“What I don’t understand is why. You don’t need the building. You met in your backyard or at someone else’s house.”
“Yes, but—”
She held up her hands. “Let me finish. Your second point was lectures by your pastor. Didn’t he give one of his lectures at your house?”
“They’re called sermons, but yes, he gave a great sermon.”
“Then point three. That’s the most confusing. God only shows up in the church building?”
Nate chuckled. “No, God is everywhere. Most likely He’s here now groaning over my inept description of faith.”
Thunder rumbled; the vibrating roll still far off.
Out of habit, Nate watched the sky for lightning.
“If you don’t need the building to do any of the things that are important to you, why is your building such an issue?”
A crow landed on the end of the dock. Soon a second joined it, then a third, their black feathers jutting out in awkward angles by the growing wind.
Ruth looked at the crows. “Can we go?” She turned in the direction of the truck, hidden by trees bent in the growing gusts. She gathered the fishing pole with her pink bobber.
“So what about church tomorrow?”
“What about the crows? What does your God tell you about them?” She glanced toward the end of the dock, which now stood empty. She yelled to be heard over the rush of the wind. “If your God can tell me why we’re being pestered by these crows, then I’ll come just to get the answer!”
God, why the crows? The minute he was starting to convince Ruth to give church a try, the crows appeared and spoiled it all.
Lightening flashed. Rain followed. Nate grabbed Ruth’s empty hand and ran for the cover of the truck.
15
Sunday, June 16
The morning air smelled freshly scrubbed from yesterday’s storm. Even now, drops of water clung to leaves and sparkled in the early morning sun. The setting might look peaceful, but Ruth pushed against the jitters that bounced in her stomach as she settled into the truck beside Nate. Why had she agreed to attend church? It had been a moment of weakness at the end of a glorious day.
She picked at the seam in her floral skirt and inhaled the scent of Nate’s aftershave. How did one behave in church? Of course, this wasn’t really church since it was in a house, but still, according to Nate, God would be there, and Ruth had a few questions
to ask Him. “So what are the Millers like?”
“I don’t know for sure. I’ve just seen them around town.” Nate turned the corner and several crows lazily flapped out of the way.
“Don’t the Millers go to your church? I thought that’s why we were going to their house.”
Nate touched her arm. “You’ll be fine. Wait and see. As for the Millers, we’re going there because they live close to us. The pastors divided Logan into sections, and then families volunteered to host church for two Sundays at a time. If you want it, I have a schedule in my Bible.”
Ruth took a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh. She was going to church. Dappled light from the overhead branches danced in her lap. She loved the trees.
Logan was carved out of part swamp, part forest, and many of the town’s trees were ancient, their branches arching over the streets like graceful porticos.
At times, she imagined how Logan must have looked in another era, a quieter, slower time. “What do I have to do to prepare to meet God?” They were strangers, she and the Big Man. “I don’t suppose I bend my head and say, ‘here I am!’”
Nate’s lips puckered like a small prune.
Ruth must have said something wrong, but it could be his attempt to hide laughter. Either way, she shrank into the seat. No one expected a traveler to India to know all the rules, so why expect everyone to know how to behave in the land of religion? She chewed on the edge of her nail, not sure how to fix her mistake.
“Just focus on God. You don’t do anything special. Just talk to Him—like you talk to anyone else, except in your mind. He wants to be your friend.”
Oh, yeah. God wants to be her friend. She wanted to ask why, but Nate would give her another look. After all, people in his world of religion knew things like that.
“You don’t have to be nervous. I’m sure the Millers are nice people, and I know most of the others who will be there.” He glanced across the seat at her. “Chet and Betsy—they’ll be there.”
It wasn’t meeting strangers that had kept Ruth awake during the night. It was meeting God. The very thought made her throat grow thick. Nate talked about God as though He was his best friend. But really—God—the creator of all. God!
Light of Logan Page 11
