by Clare Revell
****
Just after three, Hope stood by the duck pond with Nick, chucking bits of bread at the ducks. The doctor had told her she was underweight, dangerously so, and given her a diet to follow with a set number of calories per day. He’d also given her antibiotics for a chest infection.
That had been followed by a trip to the police station, where she’d picked Eddie out from an ID parade, and then given a statement. Tommy was still on the run, but they had assured her he wouldn’t be for much longer.
Even though Eddie hadn’t been able to see her through the glass mirror of the ID parade room, he’d looked directly at her and mouthed several expletives and one derogatory term he knew she’d understand.
Nick had seen them too.
As she remembered, her cheeks once more burned.
Nick handed her another slice of bread, making small talk and cracking the worst jokes she’d heard in years as he broke the bread. His breath hung in the cold air. His brown eyes twinkled and his hair poked out from under his peaked cap. “What are you thinking?”
“Other than only old men wear peaked caps? You look nothing like a pastor.”
“Thanks, I think.” He grinned. “In what way do I look young and nothing like a pastor?”
“Pastors are unapproachable, stuffy, and never do anything wrong. They stand there on a Sunday, preaching, and being something no one else can attain.”
Nick chuckled. “Oh, boy, do you have a lot to learn.”
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I don’t mean to, but honestly, pastors are just the same as everyone else. We get scared and we laugh and cry and lose our tempers. We have two pastors, other than me. Jack, you already know. He’s pretty normal most of the time. Carson, on the other hand, rides a Harley Davidson, wears biker leathers, and is as far from your pastoral description as you can get.” He paused. “He has a criminal record.”
“Seriously?”
Nick nodded. “He did eight years for something pretty major. And as for me? Well, I may not gamble or drink or swear, but I get short with people, especially when I’m out of coffee. I lose my temper when driving, especially when the bloke in front is going twenty in a forty zone.”
Hope tossed some more bread to the ducks. Angel loved the ducks and doing it without her almost tore Hope in two. “But none of that holds a candle to me. Nick, I was a prostitute. I’ve gone too far.”
He glanced at her. “Did you know that Rahab in the Bible was a prostitute? God used her in an amazing way. And so was Hosea’s wife. Actually, if you read the genealogy at the start of Matthew, Rahab is a direct ancestor of both David and Jesus. Besides, that part of your life is in the past, you said so yourself. You know, you can never push God away too far. Doesn’t matter how many times you break His heart, if you ask Him to forgive you, He will.”
“Break His heart? I never thought of it that way.”
Nick nodded. “By turning our backs on Him, doing what we want instead of what He wants and breaking His laws, that’s exactly what we do. But all we have to do is ask and He’ll forgive us.”
“Every time?”
He nodded. “Every time. There is nothing you can do that stops Him from loving you. Remember the story of the prodigal son? As soon as he saw his son on the road, the father ran to meet him. All you need to do is turn and come, and He’ll meet you on the way.”
“But what do I say?”
“Sorry is a good place to start. It’s like a child; say Angel does something naughty over and over again. How many times would you make her say sorry before you stopped loving her? Can she push you too far?”
“She can push me to far only when she doesn’t mean it. But I never stay mad at her for long. I love her too much. And I always will.”
“Exactly. True repentance is saying sorry and turning your back on that particular lifestyle or attitude or whatever sin it is. It’s not easy—take that from one who knows, but with God’s help it can be done.”
“I’ve got a lot to think about.”
Nick nodded. He glanced at his watch. “And while you’re thinking, we should get a wriggle on and start dinner. We’ll go buy something and cook for the others. Just don’t say chips, because Jack has this big issue with ‘junk food’ and kids.”
“Salad, then.”
He roared with laughter. “Not in December. How about shepherd’s pie and veggies?”
“Sounds good.”
Later, Hope peeled potatoes as Nick banged pans around before tossing the mince onto the stove top. “This will sound silly,” she began. “But it feels as if I’ve known you ages.”
“It’s been over a week.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Then what?”
“I like being with you.” She frowned at the potato in her hand. “But I don’t deserve your friendship—”
“OK, that’s enough.” Nick’s voice turned harsh. “You deserve as much nice stuff as everyone else in the world. Forget what that scumbag Eddie said at the station, and the way he and those other men treated you. You didn’t deserve it then or now.”
Shock flooded her. “Scumbag?”
“What? Aren’t pastors allowed to use words like scumbag and jerk, because I can think of a few more colorful words to describe him? And it suits him. You are beautiful, Hope. And not hopeless, either.” He turned her to face him, running his hands over her arms. “Under this beaten down, scared, frustrated, and weary figure is a strong, determined woman fighting to get out. Someone who did what she thought was for the best, albeit in the wrong way, in regards to those men.”
“Nick…”
“Let me finish.” His eyes bored into hers, his fingers grazed her lips.
Shivers ran down her spine, but not fear or loathing. Nick’s touch made her feel safe and secure and she wanted so much more from him.
“This whole mess escalated from a single wrong. The older man you dated while you were still in school.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, picking up another potato.
“And as wrong as that was, and your career choice after that, you have a beautiful daughter who needs you. And you will get her back. Once this whole mess is straightened out, you will find somewhere to live, a job…”
“Yeah, right, like that’s going to happen.” Hope carried on peeling. “No one is going to hire an ex-social worker who was fired for, well fired, no matter if they do prove the charges are false.”
“Nate will get to the bottom of it. He’s really good at his job. Just remember that you are a very important person to a lot of people around here. So just give him a couple of days. Keep in mind that God loves you.” Nick stirred the meat in the pan. “And I love you.”
“You what?” Hope looked up, shocked. The knife in her hand slipped, cutting into her wrist and she cried out in pain, blood spurting everywhere.
10
Nick grabbed hold of Hope’s arm, thrusting it into the air. Then he tugged the tea towel from the counter and wrapped it over the cut, grasping it tightly.
Tears filled her eyes and she bit her bottom lip. “S-s-sorry.”
“Accidents happen. Sit down,” he said gently. He kept tight hold of her wrist, not letting her arm droop as he tugged a stool out for her with his foot. He sat her down and loosened his grip a little, only to find the blood flow increased. A little help, Lord. I can’t let go and my phone is in the hall and the battery’s flat anyway. And she’s looking awfully pale. If she passes out I’m stuffed as I don’t know what to do.
The door behind him opened. Relief filled him for the swift answer to prayer as Jack and Dr. Jackson Parker stood there. Thank You. “Excellent timing Doc,” Nick said.
Dr. Parker set down his bag and snapped on a pair of gloves. “What happened, Hope?”
Hope tore her eyes away from the bloodied tea towel. “I was talking to Nick and the knife slipped.” She broke off. “I wasn’t trying to hurt myself.”
“It’s OK,” Nick said. “It was an a
ccident.” He loosened the tea towel to give Jackson access to Hope’s wrist.
“Keep it in the air for me,” Dr. Parker said. “This may hurt a little.”
Hope nodded, biting her lip.
Jack stood between Nick and Hope as the doctor began working. “So, what were you talking about?”
“God and His love for us and how nothing we’ve done in the past is too bad to be forgiven,” Nick said. “I may have mentioned something about my feelings for her which is why she stopped concentrating on the potatoes and the knife slipped. So if we’re apportioning blame here, this is my fault.”
Jack’s eyes glittered with what could be anger, amusement, or shock. On reflection though, it probably wasn’t amusement. “Excuse me?”
No, definitely not amusement. “I know it goes against every counseling rule in the book,” Nick began.
“Too right it does. My study. Now.” Jack strode from the room.
“Coming.” He went into the study, his stomach in the soles of his shoes. The last time that Jack had used that particular tone of voice and turn of phrase, was when Nick had said something he shouldn’t have in a sermon. That resulted in Jack having to proofread every single one of Nick’s sermons until well into next year.
Jack stood silhouetted by the desk, displeasure emanating from his stance. “Shut the door.”
Nick sucked in a deep breath and did so.
“You said what exactly?”
“I told her I loved her.”
Jack shook his head. “Why?”
“Because it’s the truth and I believe in being honest with people.”
“You don’t know this girl—” Jack began.
Nick cut him off. “I know enough.”
“Nick, what does 2 Corinthians 6:14 say?”
He sucked in a deep breath, feeling his cheeks burn. “Off the top of my head, probably something about being unevenly yoked.”
Jack opened his Bible. “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?”
“And it goes on to say what does a believer have in common with an unbeliever, doesn’t it?” He paused as Jack nodded. “Well, I have a lot more in common with her than I’m willing to go into.”
“That doesn’t alter the fact that you can’t get involved with her whilst she’s a non-Christian and under your pastoral care, Nick. Not simply because of your position in the church, although that is my major concern right now, but for the sake of your soul.”
“Is this because she used to be a prostitute?” Nick demanded, keeping his voice low.
“What Hope has done for a living doesn’t matter. Oh, it may raise a few eyebrows and there will always be someone who doesn’t approve, but that is not what matters here. You are a pastor. She is a non-believer. You can’t get involved, pure and simple.”
“Oh, please, Jack,” Nick sighed. He strode to the window, watching the snow begin to cover the back garden. “The girl has been out there for nine years. The only kind of affection she knows is the wrong kind. There’s something about her that draws me to her. She needs to know people care, and I do. I wouldn’t—you know—”
Jack’s arms were crossed.
Nick stammered again. “I mean…right now she needs friendship, nothing more.” He paused. “Besides, when I became a Christian, I took a vow of chastity, intending to stay pure for my wife from that moment on because I wasn’t—not that I need to go into that.” Nick inwardly groaned. How much deeper could he dig the hole he was in? “So if I never marry, so be it.”
“Good. Any girl you date will be scrutinized under a microscope. Any relationship you enter will also be. She has to be aware of being suitable pastor’s wife material, because she will have her own role and responsibilities within the church.”
“Suitable pastor’s wife material?”
Jack held his gaze. “I was told the same. So was Carson. And I’ve known men to be refused positions within the church because they were dating what the eldership considered to be the ‘wrong woman’, so what I’m really saying here is be very, very careful. Don’t leap into something without praying it over first.”
“Of course I’ll be careful, Jack. I won’t put either of us in compromising positions. Hope’s soul is my first priority here. I’ll watch what I say and where I say it. And I won’t do anything without prayer and meditation first.”
Jack nodded. “One more thing. No more use of the L-word.”
“Ummm.” He paused, not willing to promise that, as it’d mean lying to Hope if she asked, which she was bound to at some point. “Jack, we need to tell Grace who Angel’s mother is. She has a right to know. And Hope needs to know where Angel is staying.”
“Nate is running a background check on Hope now. Once that is done, he’ll talk to Grace and Faith. He’ll also contact Hope’s parents and brother. Something you need to learn is to let others do their jobs before you rush in. Just like you have to learn yours. First rule of counseling is never get personally involved.”
“Easier said than done.”
“This is why we pray both before and afterwards and think before we speak. Don’t make promises to her you can’t keep. Or tell her you love her.”
Nick’s face burned. But he did love Hope.
The front door burst open and footsteps ran down the hall. “Daddy?” called a child’s voice. “Can we build a thowman?”
“One minute, Lara,” Jack called. He gazed hard at Nick. “Don’t make me repeat this conversation. You’re doing well here. Don’t blow it.”
Nick nodded. “OK.” He left the study and headed back to the kitchen. Hope had a bandage around her wrist. He offered her a half smile. “You OK?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just wondered.” He glanced over at the stove where Jackson Parker stood putting the finishing touches to the shepherd’s pie. “Are you staying for dinner, Jackson?”
“Yes.”
Lara came running in with Jack, talking nineteen to the dozen. “And I made a new fwiend today. Hew name ith Angel.”
Hope jerked.
“That’s a pretty name,” Jack answered. “Strange day to start a new school though. It’s the last day of term.
“Miss Fwanks made me the theptheial perthon ath ith her firth day.” Lara looked at Hope. “Do you have kidth?”
“Yes,” Hope whispered. “A little girl. She’s eight.”
“Why ithn’t thee here?”
Nick put a hand on Hope’s shoulder and squeezed it. “She’s staying with a friend for a few days while Hope’s here.”
Lara frowned. “But ith nearly Chwithmath. Don’t you mith her?”
“I do. Very, very much.” Hope looked up at Nick. “When can I see her?”
“A couple more days, once Nate gives us the all clear. I’ll go and call Nate if you like. I’ll see how she is.”
Hope nodded. “Please.”
Nick smiled and headed to the door.
Jack caught his sleeve on his way past and followed him into the hall. “Didn’t you listen to a word I said?”
“Yes, I heard you. I’m calling Nate.” Nick tried not to sigh, and then shut the kitchen door. “Jack, right now she has no home, no faith and no hope. She needs building up not knocking down. I’m trying to continue what I started. Can I use your phone? My battery’s flat.”
Jack nodded. “Use the one in the study. There’s less chance of you being overheard there.”
“Thanks.” Nick headed through and dialed quickly.
“Hello,” came the reply.
“Nate, it’s Nick Slater. Hope’s asking about Angel. Have you heard how she’s doing today?”
“I’m with Grace right now. You can ask her yourself.”
“Hi, Pastor Nick. Angel misses her mum and cries for her a lot. The meds are working, she isn’t coughing anywhere near as much as she was. You know what’s weird? She looks like Hope did at the same age.”
“Really?” Nick said.
“How is the mother doing?”
“Better. She’s really worried about Angel. Keeps asking when she can see her.”
“Same here,” Grace said. “Not that I mind having her, but do you have any idea how much longer? With the wedding on New Year’s Eve, that’s less than two weeks, and there’s a lot to do still.”
“That’s up to Nate.”
“OK.”
“A couple of days more, I imagine. Then either she’ll have her back or she’ll go into care.” Nate spoke loud enough for Nick to hear.
“I’d better go. Sounds like Elliott’s back with her. He picked her up from school.”
“OK. Bye.”
“Nick, I don’t want you saying a word to the mother,” Nate said firmly. “Not about where the child is or anything else.”
“I understand. Thanks for the update.” Nick replaced the receiver and headed back to the kitchen. The conversation with Jack ran through his mind again, but the uncomfortable feeling it gave him was once more replaced by the stomach churning, heart pounding, and skipping a beat thing seeing Hope gave him.
God, is she the one You have in mind for me? Couples have met in stranger places and even more offbeat ways than we did. But I know how I feel. Did You put us both on that staircase for this reason? Or am I reading too much into this and am I just meant to bring her back to You and her family? Show me what to do. Tell me what to do. Does she want me like I want her?
“What did DI Holmes say?” Hope’s voice brought him back to ground.
“She misses you,” Nick said, being careful not to mention Angel’s name, lest Lara give the game away, “and her cough is much better today. She’s just got back from school.”
“Good.” She returned her gaze to where Jack and Lara sat playing noughts and crosses. “What if I never get her back?” she whispered.
“You will.”
“Nick, earlier, before I cut myself, you said…”
Nick could feel Jack’s piercing gaze burning into him. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“OK.”
She was dropping it as reluctantly as he was. He wanted to continue the conversation, but right now it was more than his job was worth. Besides, that conversation needed privacy—something neither of them could have.
