by Lois Richer
“I do go to church,” she told him with a smile. “Almost every day, in fact.”
He frowned. When had she left Agapé? How?
“Jared, look around. What do you see?”
“The ocean, trees, grass,” he rattled off obediently.
“And they are all His creation. Close your eyes.”
He obeyed, waited.
“Hear that?”
“You mean the dog?”
She chuckled and her breath brushed his cheek.
“That’s not just a dog, it’s praise for the Master. Hear the waves? That’s the sound of His robe swishing past. Feel that?”
The faintest wind rearranged his hair.
“That’s His breath, saying He loves us, that He’s near, watching.”
Jared couldn’t keep his eyes closed any longer. He blinked at her, ready to argue.
The words died on his lips.
The depth of her faith lent GloryAnn an inner radiance. It wasn’t that she was naive, that she didn’t understand the work of evil in the world. It was that she’d moved beyond it, into a deeper, richer experience. One Jared wished he were part of.
“Wherever I am, that’s where I praise Him, worship Him, talk to Him.”
“I admire your faith.” It was the best he could do.
“Admire. But don’t share.” She sipped her drink, watched him intently. “Why?”
“I can’t see God like that.”
“Because?” She didn’t seem offended, only curious.
Jared did not want to discuss this, didn’t want to rehash the past again—ever. But he couldn’t very well tell her to mind her own business, not without ruining the bond they’d built today.
“It’s a long story.” Maybe she’d give up.
“I have nothing but time today.” Another sip, then she set down the drink, crossed her slim ankles and waited. “Go ahead. I’d really like to know.”
“When we came here I really only wanted one thing—to be able to help those awful cases medicine had always sidelined.” Jared made a face. “That sounds pompous and probably very arrogant, but it’s true. I was sick of the politics, of the jockeying for surgical time. You know what it’s like in most hospitals.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So maybe you can appreciate that I felt I was wasting time with the meetings and the bureaucracy. Somebody better qualified than I could do all that stuff.”
“Your mission was to operate.” Glory picked up one of the fortune cookies and began nibbling at the edge. “Go on.”
“Diana thrived on meetings.” His stomach clutched at the cascade of memories. “At one of them she met Elizabeth and learned of Sister Phil’s work here.”
“Burned children, even back then?”
Jared shook his head. A ripple of fondness brought back snapshot recollections of the tiny woman and her immense courage.
“Sister Phil didn’t care what was wrong with them. If she found someone who needed help she made sure they got it. She was a nursing sister in England years ago, so she had enough knowledge to treat wounds, that kind of thing. There was a doctor in the village she bullied into helping her. She can be a tartar if she wants.”
Glory nodded.
“One thing led to another and Elizabeth offered me a clinic here, on the island. One that would be for burned children. She’d just come from Africa and she was gutted by the terrible suffering she’d seen there.”
“So you and Diana moved here.”
“Diana was eager to return home but I held off. I wanted to be sure I was in God’s will. We decided to pray about it for three months. If things fell into place then I’d know that was God’s blessing.” Jared stared at his feet, the burn inside igniting the guilt.
“That was smart.”
“Was it?” He swallowed, continued, “At the end of three months I was convinced Agapé was our destination. Elizabeth never had any doubts so she had everything waiting when we got here. I plunged into work and learned more with every procedure. I did the surgery many times and never had a problem.”
“Until the little boy died.”
He wondered who’d talked. But he knew the answer. Leilani had been Diana’s best friend. She’d been devastated when Diana and Nicholas—
“Jared?” Glory’s hand stroked his arm, the heat from her fingers welcoming against his suddenly icy skin. “You don’t have to tell me. I know they were killed by the boy’s father. I’m very sorry.”
“So am I.” He cleared his throat. “It was the last thing I expected. I’ve lost patients before. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I’d lose another.”
“There was no sign that the child wouldn’t make it?” Her fingers threaded between his as if she was trying to infuse her strength into him.
It was not working.
“He came through fine?”
“As good as any I’d treated. There was no reason to suspect—” Jared exhaled heavily, closed his eyes and traveled back to that day on the same path he’d trod a thousand times before. “I didn’t make a mistake, Glory. If I had, I’d say so if only to make sure it didn’t happen again.”
“I know that, Jared. You don’t have to tell me.”
The warmth of her trust chased away the shadows.
“I’ve gone over the tapes, the records, everything, a hundred times. We record the procedures, you see. There’s no indication that Sam wasn’t recovering.”
“Record—for insurance?” she asked, her brows drawing together.
Jared drew his hand from hers, instantly regretting the break in contact. Now he felt alone, abandoned. Which was silly. He’d been alone for three years now, ever since a madman had stolen his loved ones.
Ever since God let it happen.
“We record for learning, for teaching, so no mistake is ever repeated.”
“But you didn’t make a mistake.” There was that confidence again.
“If I did, I can’t find it. Nor could the panel that cleared me.”
“So—”
“My exoneration wasn’t much comfort to Viktor.”
“Jared, just because his son died doesn’t mean it was your fault.” She considered a nearby family. “We know a lot about the human body but we don’t know everything. I—”
“It’s not that.” He cut her off, disinclined to hear the excuses. Inside his belly, rage burned so deep he was afraid he’d scorch her with it.
“Then…?”
He curled his fingers into the grass and hung on as the bitterness poured out.
“I came here to help. I thought it was God’s leading. In fact I was sure it was.” The harsh laugh irritated his throat. “I thought this was where Diana and I could reach the most kids, where we’d both be happy doing what we loved.”
“And wasn’t it?”
“For a while. Before I got her and my son killed. Before He let them die.”
“Oh, Jared. God didn’t—”
“Don’t!”
He couldn’t silence his rage. The stark pain blistering his soul couldn’t be erased, even by surgery.
“Was that God’s will? Was taking my son, my wife—was that what He asked of me for thinking I was so great I could actually make a difference?”
“You do make a difference.”
“Really?” He laughed without mirth. “Then why doesn’t it stop? Why do the kids keep coming? Can’t God stop it, Glory? Or doesn’t He want to?”
“Neither one makes for a very loving God, does it?”
Not the answer he’d expected. Jared frowned, waited.
“How do you resolve it?” he demanded when it seemed she’d become lost in some daydream. “Tell me your concept of God.”
She shook her head, a dimple flashing.
“I don’t have a concept of God.” She shushed him with a warning finger across his lips. Her eyes blazed. “I can’t understand God, Jared. If I did, He wouldn’t be God. I don’t know why Diana and Nicholas died. I don’t understand what would drive a ma
n to kill someone. I have no easy explanations about why it happened or how you are supposed to accept it. Those are questions only God can help you with.”
Jared’s shoulders drooped. Whether she admitted it or not, Glory was in the same boat as he was. She just hadn’t admitted it to herself yet.
“You’re going to have to ask God your questions, wait for His answers.”
“Do you think I haven’t?” He surged to his feet. “I’ve asked a million times. There’s never any answer. And blind faith just doesn’t cut it anymore.”
Jared could tell by her flaring irises that Glory was going to debate it and Jared just wasn’t up to that.
“I’ll go get us some dessert.” He scurried away before she could reply.
He needed space to get his emotions under control. He needed privacy to quash his anger. Most of all, he needed hope.
But what he really needed, GloryAnn couldn’t give because Jared desperately craved reassurance that Diana and Nicholas hadn’t given their lives on a whim of fate, for no reason.
It was the only hope he had left to cling to.
Chapter Six
Will I ever learn when to be silent?
Glory’s heart squeezed in pity as Jared marched across the grass, toward an ice-cream shop on the corner. A small boy on a skateboard crashed into him, but before the tyke could hit the ground, Jared had scooped him up and set him back on his feet.
Jared’s devastating smile brought a like response from the child, who then hurtled off down the street toward a woman beckoning him. Jared watched him disappear into the crowd for several moments before he walked to the ice-cream counter.
He would make a wonderful father.
The thought shocked her until Glory realized it was true. When he forgot about the pain, when he relaxed and allowed himself to forget, Jared Steele was a different man. She’d seen that transformation repeatedly in the past weeks.
Did he cling to the anger to ensure he didn’t forget his family?
“You’re scowling. You don’t like lemon ice?”
Glory blinked, focused on the clear plastic container in front of her nose. She accepted it dubiously.
“Lemon ice?”
“Take it from me, it’s the best way to cool down on a hot day.” Jared sat beside her, folded his long legs in front and began sampling his own treat as if nothing had happened. “How about a quick trip through the zoo when we’re finished this? Then maybe we can hit the beach.”
“Sounds good to me.” She savored the cold sour bite as a parasailer floated across the sky. “That looks like fun.”
“It is. Want to try?”
“Not in this lifetime. I’d probably crash into one of those high-rises or fall flat on my face in the water.”
“I thought you liked water,” he teased.
He’d left his sunglasses perched atop his head and the effect of that daring blue gaze boosted her heart rate. Why had she ever thought him cold?
“I like fish, too. But I don’t intend to feed a shark.” Glory tucked her hair behind her ear, too aware that things had changed between them.
She’d had no trouble keeping up her barriers until he let her peek behind the hard shell he usually presented to the world. Now she saw a grieving husband and father, recognized the thousand questions he couldn’t answer. Only God could fill the hole that ripped him apart.
“Are you finished playing with that?” Jared quirked an eyebrow in the imperious yet fascinating way he had.
“It was lovely, but I’m as cool as I can get without needing a jacket.”
“In Honolulu? Perish the thought.” Jared lifted the dish from her fingers and tossed both in the trash. He slid the shades that hid his thoughts back into place. “Let’s go check out the zoo.”
The exhibits were fun, but Jared was even more so, as if he’d deliberately set himself the task of making her laugh, especially when he imitated the flamingos.
“They’re amazing.” The brilliant bird strutted across the grass. “Haughty and regal.”
“They’re actually white when they’re newly hatched.”
“They’re so graceful.” The brush of his arm against her side as he steered her away from a child’s spill sent shivers up Glory’s spine. “There are so many.”
“Their colonies can number in the thousands.”
“Look.” She pointed to the sign, shifting away from his touch. “In Swahili they’re called Heroes.” To cover her fluttery nervousness when his stare intensified she began reading aloud.
Jared remained silent, apparently content to let her move from display to display like a fascinated tourist. Which she was.
“A Keiki zoo?” Glory dragged him into the flow of children.
“It’s new. The fish tank in here is to hold people.”
“That’s appropriate.” Only when he grinned did she notice she still had hold of his arm. Glory let go as if she’d been burned. “Sorry.”
“You’re as big a kid as the rest of them,” he teased.
“Of course I am, but you knew that already. Oh!” A llama stretched its long neck toward her. Glory bumped against Jared’s chest trying to avoid a wash by its tongue. “What a fantastic place for kids.”
“A lot of the kids in Honolulu live in high-rises. This is like a visit to the farm for them.”
She stood on tiptoe to watch children crawl through a tunnel to a glassed-off area. The kids ended up inside the fish tank, just as he’d said.
“Look at the color and size of those black koi fish,” she whispered.
At the guinea-pig exhibit a little girl with glossy black hair stood rubbing her tear-filled eyes, frustrated by her inability to get to the tunnel where other children crowded.
“Isn’t she sweet?”
Jared chuckled when the tiny girl swiped a hand across her face before bullying her way to the front of the line. She got into the tunnel with nary a backward glance.
“A woman who knows what she wants.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Jared snorted. “I pity her dad. How could you ever say no to those big eyes?”
They stopped for a cup of coffee on one of the many picnic benches provided, then toured the Discovery Center, where Glory chose a video, some books and a few small toy fish for Bennie to play with.
While Jared studied the scientific journals, Glory chose a couple of brilliantly colored T-shirts for herself.
“You’re not going to tell me those are for your friend’s child, are you?” Amusement tinged his voice.
“These are for me,” Glory admitted, slightly embarrassed. “Most of the things I brought aren’t natural fabrics and I get too warm in them. These are all cotton.”
“We could go to a mall. They’d probably be half the price.”
“It’s not the price,” she told him with a glare. “It’s the place. I’ll be able to tell everyone I got them at the Honolulu Zoo. Everyone at home,” she corrected quickly.
He shrugged, waited while she paid for the shirts. A little breeze pushed in off the water and Glory was glad to let it cool her skin.
“Are you ready for a swim?”
“Uh-huh.”
The size of the rollers breaking on shore made Glory apprehensive, but she didn’t want Jared to know how afraid she was. So she walked with him to the car, retrieved her bag and followed him to the change rooms.
“I’ll change and wait for you out here.”
After pulling the long cotton cover she’d borrowed from Leilani over her swimsuit, Glory plaited her hair into a long thick braid and plastered on sunscreen. There was no other reason to hesitate from going outside, but she did.
“You like swimming,” she lectured her reflection, glad no one else was using the facility. “You can manage to bob around for a few minutes.”
It wasn’t only the swimming. It was those piercing eyes and the way they made her mouth dry so she couldn’t swallow. It was the timbre of his voice—
“Oh, grow up.” She grabbed
her bag and headed outside.
Jared tilted an eyebrow. “Ready?”
“I guess.”
“It’s a little rough. We won’t go out too far until you get used to the surf.” Jared led her past a grove of palms where the beach was wide with sand and a ton of sunbathers. He chose a spot, dropped his towel, kicked off his shoes then arched an eyebrow when she didn’t move. “We can go farther down.”
“What’s farther down?”
“A seawall that shelters the beach on the other side of that pier.” Blue eyes gleamed innocence. “It’s very calm there. The kiddies love it.”
He was giving her an out, in case she was too much of a wimp to experience the surf. But this was Hawaii, and Glory had no intention of missing any of its delights.
“Maybe we could go there after. I’d like to try this first.”
“Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jared walked with her down to the water, rolled his eyes when she complained first about the scorching heat of the sand, then yelped about the water’s cool temperature.
But he didn’t splash or hurry her.
“It’s lovely.” The words left her lips seconds before a wave swamped her and she inhaled seawater. The strength of the surge tumbled her down to the coral-gravel bottom. Glory feared she’d never see daylight again until a strong brown hand grabbed her arm, drew her upward.
Jared waited while she coughed and spluttered her way back to reality.
“Don’t turn your back on them,” he advised, not quite laughing. “Try floating sideways. When the wave comes in it’ll lift you up with the swell. Usually.”
Glory tried it, found herself lifted and tossed toward shore.
“It’s like riding a roller coaster.” She winced at the bite of the seawater in her eyes. But that discomfort didn’t stop her from paddling back out. She caught the next crest and laughed as it heaved her up and in toward shore. “I love this!”
“I can tell.” Jared seemed unaffected by the ocean’s strength. “Maybe you should try surfing.”
“I have the balance of an elephant. I’d never be able to stand up.”
“Actually, elephants have quite good balance. How about snorkeling?”
“I read about Hanauma Bay.” How did he stay in one place so effortlessly? “A nature preserve, isn’t it?”
