by Lois Richer
“Jared?” she whispered when long moments had passed.
“Yes?”
“Will you kiss me?”
“Yes.” He bent his head, placed his lips against hers and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. He could not deny his heart what it craved most.
Glory tried with all her heart to step away, to break the embrace she’d longed for. But her body had a mind of its own and her arms clung to him, holding him next to her heart. The nerves that always attacked whenever he was around dissipated into nothingness as she wound a hand in his hair, drowning in the tenderness he exuded.
For her.
His kiss went on so long she prayed it would never end. But then her breath caught as he drew back slightly, peered down into her face. She felt so alive.
“Glory—”
She shook her head, laid her palm over his lips.
“I need to say something.”
Glory whispered a prayer for help.
“I love you, Jared,” she murmured, studying her hand splayed against his chest. “I never meant for it to happen, I have no idea why God allowed it, nor do I know what to do with it. I have to go back to Tiska, keep my promise. But my heart will stay here, with you.”
Jared grasped her wrists, drew them down so she had to step back, away from him. A hundred emotions chased across his face but she could only make out three of them: wonder, regret and rejection.
“Don’t love me,” he begged.
She studied him for a moment before finally asking the one question that plagued her.
“What’s wrong? Do you have any feelings for me?”
He closed his eyes.
“It doesn’t matter what I feel, Glory.”
“Of course it does.” She gulped. Unless—“You don’t love me,” she murmured, a wave of desolation swamping her. “I see.”
“No, you don’t see!” He pushed the bedraggled strands of hair off her face, cupped her chin in his fingers and pressed one hard firm kiss against her lips.
Glory didn’t know what to make of it, how to interpret the anger that filled the air around them with a palpable tension.
“You don’t understand at all.” He brushed his thumb against the cleft in her chin. “When I look at you I see light and beauty, all the good things I wish were in my own life. You give love so generously, Glory. Sometimes I catch myself craving to be nearer you, to bask in the joy you spread around, to let it wash away the hurt.”
Her heart sang.
“I wish we could build a world together, that I could give you everything your heart desires, make you happy.”
“You already have,” she told him, unshed tears dragging at her words.
“No, I haven’t. Because I can’t.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “There can never be anything between us, Glory. Never.”
The words grated across her nerves, leaving her raw and bleeding.
“You can let go of your bitterness, with God’s help. I know you can, Jared. We can both trust Him to lead us to a future together.”
“Trust God?” He barked a laugh. “No. I won’t trust Him again. I can’t.”
“So it’s about Diana. You’re still in love with her.”
“Diana was my wife and I did love her very much. Some part of me will always love her. But she’s gone now and my heart is filled with you. Not loving you—that’s like not breathing. I can’t stop. I don’t want to.”
“I feel the same. So tell me why we can’t have a future,” she whispered, fear dragging at her heart.
“Because you deserve happiness, a loving family, children.” He met her gaze, his face gray and tortured. “I can’t give you that.”
He was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t understand.
“I can’t have any more children, Glory. I caught the mumps after my son was born. Nicholas was the only child I’ll ever have.”
Relief swamped her.
“I’m so sorry, but Agapé is brimming with children. The world is teeming with kids who want to be loved, Jared.” She touched his face, forced him to look at her. “I don’t care about the biology. Our love will grow strong enough to share with any child we choose.”
“It won’t be enough,” he insisted. “In six months, a year—somewhere down the road—you’ll look at me and hate the fact that you can’t have your own child. You deserve that and I can’t give it to you. I won’t put you through that, Glory.”
She stepped back, repelled by the hard way he pushed love aside because it didn’t conform to what he wanted.
“Is that how Diana felt? Did she want to leave you, end your marriage because you couldn’t give her more children?” She shook her head. “I’ve heard Kahlia talk about her. I know how much she loved you.”
“That was different. She had Nicholas.”
“So you’ll run away again,” she whispered. “You’ll turn your back on any possibility that you don’t have the answers because you’re afraid to risk getting hurt.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Sure you are. It’s your pattern, Jared. It’s what you do—run from the hard parts in life. Refuse to push past the pain and the fear because it’s easier to wallow in your misery.” She had to try, one last time. “But if you’d just let go, release your control to God and let Him get you through it, you’d be free to face whatever He has next.”
“What do you think that is, Glory? Another child suffering, another kid disfigured?” Fury banked in his eyes as he lowered his voice. “I can’t.”
“Then you’re right.” She stepped back. “You are not the man I need. I have to go back, keep my promise. But if you’d only let God show us what He has in store, we could have worked it out.”
“I told you, I can’t love you.”
“No. What you’ve told me is that you won’t. You had a choice, Jared. You pushed me away.” She picked up her bag, slipped on her sandals and left, hurrying back to her cottage, anxious to get behind closed doors before the tears fell.
Only in the shower did Glory finally allow hot tears to mingle with the water cascading over her head. She had never felt more alone.
Please don’t desert me now, she prayed soundlessly. I need You to show me how to go on. How to live without him. Please show me Your will.
Her only response was the sound of the beeper she’d left on the table.
Chapter Thirteen
Sister Philomena’s service overflowed Agapé’s small chapel and spilled to the outdoors. Everyone who had been touched by her wanted to be there. Pono created special areas of peace and tranquillity in the gardens where the sun and ocean breezes mingled to carry the fragrance of love Heavenward.
Jared had come because it was his duty, because he owed it to Elizabeth. But he didn’t want to be here. He’d already bid farewell to the woman who’d been his best friend for the past three years. He didn’t need the formality of a funeral.
Besides, he was too conscious of Glory seated next to him. Coolly composed and classically beautiful, she wore the dress she’d bought that day in Honolulu and a big sun hat. Philomena would have loved it. But to Jared it brought back too many memories of a time he would always cherish.
Since that day on the beach, Glory spoke to him politely, but only when necessary. She worked the schedule so they were seldom in the wards together. When a consult was necessary, she got to the point, heard his opinion and escaped as quickly as she could.
Not that Jared blamed her. In some ways it helped make his decision easier to adhere to. But it hurt. Mostly because she’d lost that inner glow he’d come to associate with dear Dr. Glory.
“She was my cousin, my friend, my partner, my sister in Christ. I will miss you, Philomena.” Elizabeth stopped to regain her composure then addressed her audience. “This mission, Agapé, is a testament to the love she believed was the only way to show God’s true personality. I hope you’ll work with me to ensure its continued success. Let us pray.”
&nb
sp; Jared stuck it out through the burial service, through the lunch in the garden, through the inevitable chatter, glad that for once no emergencies marred the memories of their beloved Sister.
But he itched to leave.
In fact, Jared wanted to run as far and as fast as he could go.
Glory’s diagnosis had been right on. He was afraid. Afraid of staying the way he was, afraid of changing and losing again, afraid of putting his trust in the place he’d found so sadly lacking. Because the truth was, keeping Viktor behind bars hadn’t appeased his heart.
Glory had been right there, too.
“This came for you.” Leilani handed him a small envelope. It bore the imprint of Halawa prison. “Can’t you let it go, Jared? Just for tonight.”
He took the letter, slid it into his jacket pocket. “I have a meeting. I can’t reschedule it again.”
“But today is—”
“Thank you, Leilani. I know what today is.” He turned his back, escaped as soon as he could and sought solace in the empty wards.
Jared sat, slit the envelope, pulled out a single sheet of paper.
Several times I’ve requested a meeting with you but have not made any progress. So I must write because I cannot continue with this burden any longer. I must do as my Lord requires and apologize. I know this is not enough. I stole innocent lives. Nothing I can do or say could ever make my actions right. But God asks me to try.
So many times I think of our two sons, two young innocent children who died too early. Perhaps they play together in Heaven, perhaps they are even friends. I pray so. I pray my son never knows the actions of his father, that he never learns of my sins. I cannot disregard that two people died because of my anger. I accept my guilt. But I also accept my son’s death was not your fault. You are innocent, Jared. I hope that someday you will accept my apology. I expect nothing. My crime was very great indeed. It will require my life to atone.
I pray God’s healing on you.
Viktor
Jared crushed the paper into a tiny ball. But then he smoothed it out again, reread the words so carefully penned.
You are innocent.
Hardly.
I pray God’s healing on you.
“Are you sad?” Fingers that had once been chubby and healthy, now thin and too bony, patted his arm awkwardly.
Bennie.
“Are you sad about your boy?” he asked, pushing himself into Jared’s lap. His one chubby arm looped itself around his neck, drawing his head down.
Jared gazed into the big brown eyes so like Nicholas’s, felt the silken brush of the dark-brown strands against his chin, the warmth of the small body snuggling itself against him. He had to close his eyes as the smell—that combination of sweaty little boy and fresh bath powder—assailed his nostrils.
Dear God! I hurt so much.
Bennie touched his cheek, stared at the wet spot on his finger.
“I can pray for Jesus to make you better,” he whispered so quietly the other children filing into the room couldn’t possibly hear. “Do you want me to?”
What else could he say?
“Okay,” Jared murmured.
“You have to close your eyes.” Bennie waited till his lashes drooped. Satisfied, he began to pray. “This doctor has a hurt, God. He needs Your good medicine. Can You get him some? Please?” He opened one eye, smiled at Jared. “Amen.”
“Thank you, Bennie. That was very kind of you.”
“Welcome.” He slid down, paused, then beckoned for Jared to lean down. “Glory Mom is going to make me better,” he whispered, his eyes dancing.
“Is she?”
“Yes. She promised. Then I won’t hurt anymore.”
“That’s good. Do you mind if I look at your shoulder now?”
“No.” Bennie backed away, his face changing. “It hurts when you look.”
“I promise I won’t touch it. I’ll just look. Okay?”
It took several minutes for Bennie to make his decision, but finally he undid his top and allowed Jared to undo the bandage.
It took every control Jared possessed not to show his emotion. The wound was blistered, infected and in a terrible state, far worse than he’d imagined. Who had let it get so bad?
He had. He’d avoided Bennie because when he looked at him, he saw Nicholas. But Jared would never have allowed anyone to hurt his child this way.
Shame pierced his very soul.
Oh, God, help me!
“What are you doing, Jared?” Glory loomed above them, her eyes chilly.
“Just taking a look at Bennie’s shoulder.” He waved the nurse over for fresh gauze, rewound the bandage as gently as he could. “Thank you for showing me, Bennie. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Nope.” Bennie pressed against Glory’s leg, found her hand with his good one. “Is it time to make me better now?”
“Not just yet, sweetheart,” she murmured. “It’s almost time for bed, though. I think Kahlia’s got a really good story tonight.”
He gazed longingly at the corner where the children gathered to hear a nighttime story.
“Are you coming?”
“In a minute. I need to talk to Dr. Jared first.”
“Okay.” Bennie held out his hand toward Jared. “Good night.” He solemnly shook hands.
“Sleep well.” As the boy hurried to the story corner, Jared studied Glory. “He told me you promised to make him better.”
“I did.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’ve been studying the videos of the procedure. I’ve gotten very good at it. In a week, maybe two, I’ll try it on Bennie.”
He blanched.
“You can’t! You don’t know enough. What if something goes wrong?”
“It already has,” she reminded him softly. “A little boy is suffering needlessly. I’m not going to stand by if there’s something I can do to prevent it.”
“Glory, please, don’t do this.” He grabbed his vibrating pager, checked the message. The prison chaplain was on line two. “I’ve got to take this call. Look, don’t do anything until we talk again.”
“And when will that be?” she demanded. “You don’t seem to have much time to spend here anymore.”
“Just don’t do anything. Please?” He took her arm, led her out of the ward. “If it goes wrong, Bennie won’t have another chance. The procedure can only be done once.”
His beeper went off again.
“Go,” she ordered.
“Will you promise not to do anything tonight? Please?” He touched her cheek, let his hand drop away when she shifted out of reach. The beeper shook again. “Please, I’m begging you. Wait.”
Finally she nodded.
“But not forever, Jared. I only have a couple of months left here. I don’t intend to waste my time.”
“Thank you.”
He raced down the hall to the front desk.
“What is the urgency, Leilani?” he demanded.
“The prison chaplain says Viktor insists he’ll kill himself if he doesn’t get a chance to talk to you. He’s on line one.”
Talk to him? Have a conversation with the murderer?
Wouldn’t it be better to let him die?
This doctor needs Your good medicine.
“I don’t know what I can do but get him to hold till I can pick up in my office.”
Leilani nodded. “Will do. I’ll be praying, boss.”
“You do that.”
It felt good to be free.
“Viktor says to thank you.”
“I should be thanking him. Tell the warden I concur with the board. Get him some help.”
Jared snapped his cell phone closed, sat in his car and listened to the surf pound the rocks beyond. He felt like those rocks—bruised and battered but strong enough to face the future.
He needed to see Glory.
The little beach park was empty, so it took only seconds to turn the car around, head back to Agapé. But the closer he
got the more Jared noticed a strange light in the sky. His nose caught a scent.
Smoke!
He drove as fast as he dared, got as far as the barricade. Smoke poured from the rear of the building. Ambulances loaded patients while Leilani directed operations. Board members who’d come for the funeral comforted those who needed it. Even Kahlia and Pono pitched in.
But he couldn’t see her.
“Where’s Glory, Leilani?”
“I don’t know. We were helping the kids in Bennie’s ward get out. I didn’t see her after that.” She answered his unspoken question. “So far no one’s been injured, Jared. So far.”
Except for Glory. Terror grabbed his heart. He couldn’t breathe.
Choose love, Jared. Choose the best.
“I love her,” he whispered to the only One who heard. “I love her so much. Don’t take her away. Not Glory.”
God’s will?
It had to be. He understood that now. Not just with Viktor but with Glory, too.
“Your will be done, Lord. Your will.”
A hand closed around his arm. He turned, saw Elizabeth, her face dirty, her hair askew.
“Glory’s inside,” the older woman croaked. “They won’t let me go in after her. Glory’s inside and she’s going to die.”
“No, she isn’t.” With faith filling his heart, Jared clung to trust. “Pray, Elizabeth. Get the children taken care of and then pray.”
He found the fire chief.
“I’ve got to get in there. One of my doctors was caught inside with a little boy. I have to get them out.”
“Too much smoke. I’ve had four men injured. I won’t send in any more. You’ll never find her.”
“I’ll find her. I know this place like the back of my hand. You keep your men safe. But I’m going in.”
It took persuasion before they allowed him to put on a suit. He was ready when a volunteer fireman offered to brave the smoke one more time to save two lives.
“Thank you.”
They worked their way from the kitchen upward, using the inflammable areas of stainless steel to shield them from the heat. A loud creak echoed down the hallway then a piece of debris tumbled from the wall, struck his partner. He went down with a crash but signaled he was okay. But his mask was cracked. There was no way he could go inside.
