Cole squeezed his eyes shut and, in beautiful childlike sentences, he did just that.
* * *
The answer to Cole’s prayer came first thing in the morning.
Before Ashley was even awake, Lu from Sunset Hills called.
“Hello?” Ashley crooked her arm across her eyes. She had a headache from crying so much the day before.
“Ashley, I hate to wake you, but something’s happened here. Something bad.”
Ashley sat up in bed, her heart pounding. “Is it Irvel?”
There was silence on the other end.
Ashley had to remind herself to breathe. She was completely awake now, adrenaline coursing through her like a drug. “Lu, tell me. What’s wrong?”
“It’s a long story,” Lu sighed. “I fired Belinda this morning. You’re the only person who can do the job, Ashley. Please come back to Sunset Hills.”
Ashley’s mind raced. What had Belinda done? She forced herself to concentrate on Lu’s offer. “I . . . I don’t want to be a bookkeeper, Lu.”
“I’ll hire someone else to do the books.” Lu sounded like she was ready to cry. “The residents here were different around you, happier. Nothing’s been the same since you left. Please, Ashley. Come back. Whatever you were doing, do it again—and train the staff to do the same thing.” She grabbed a quick breath. “Will you, Ashley? Please?”
Elation replaced every frightening thought Ashley had. Joy filled her heart, and she struggled to find her voice. She was going back! She would see Irvel again and hear about Hank. She would add to the wall of photos and cover the mirror for Edith and bring back the saddle and sawhorse. Tears spilled onto her cheeks as a peal of wonderful laughter slipped from her throat. “When do I start?”
They worked out the details, and Ashley promised to be there first thing in the morning. That way she could spend one more day with Cole before returning to Sunset Hills. Lu had assured her she could still be finished by three, so she and Cole would have afternoons and weekends together.
After she hung up, Ashley stared at the ceiling in awe. It was the perfect arrangement.
She dried her cheeks, and then it hit her. Cole’s prayer! Her son had prayed that she would know for sure God loved her. Ashley let her mouth hang open, amazed. She still hadn’t prayed the way she knew she should. And yet here God was, answering her prayers and the prayers of her little boy, just hours after they’d been uttered.
It was only then that she buried her face in her pillow and really began to talk to God. She begged his forgiveness for a lifetime of bad choices, and she asked him to be her friend, her Savior—then and always. After that, she told him every other thing that was on her heart. Thirty minutes later she stood up and stared out the window.
She was a new person; she could feel it. God’s mercy and grace flooded her, consumed her as they never had before. God loved her! He loved her, and nothing would ever change that.
Not because she was good or because she had finally prayed.
But simply because she was his.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kari was finding ways to keep busy.
Pastor Mark had arranged for her to meet with Martha Oglesby, one of the older women at church, a woman who shared Kari’s vision of helping others who might be suffering in their marriages. Twice a week they got together to talk and pray and work through the types of issues Kari might be dealing with once she began such a ministry. Between that and taking care of Jessie, there were whole hours every day when she could avoid thinking about Ryan Taylor.
The nights were something altogether different.
Whatever the future might hold for the two of them, right now God had them apart for a reason. And until they could be together, they each had a job to do.
Ryan’s was to honor his contract.
And hers was to honor God with the work he’d given her.
“I don’t know what tomorrow holds, sweetheart,” her mother had told her the last time they talked about Ryan. “But I have a feeling that somehow it involves Ryan Taylor.”
Her mother’s words played lightly on her heart as she made her way toward the church office that Monday afternoon. She rounded a corner and headed through the sanctuary toward Pastor Mark’s office. He had called earlier and asked her to come by. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
She entered the pastor’s office and found him on the phone. She took her familiar spot on the sofa across from his desk and waited. After a few seconds he hung up and gave her his usual greeting: “Hello, Kari. How’s your family?”
She smiled and gave a light shrug. “Good, I guess. Ashley got her job back. Erin and Sam seem to be doing pretty well. She’s glad they haven’t moved.”
The pastor nodded. “And I’ve been meeting with Brooke and Peter. They’re not quite to the point of committing, but they’re interested. It’s exciting to see how far they’ve come.” Pastor Mark’s smile faded. “I haven’t seen Luke.”
A heaviness settled over Kari. “He’s struggling.” She folded her hands. “I’ve talked with Mom and Dad, and they think it’s a phase—something he has to work through. But I’m worried.” She hesitated. “His faith took a real hit after September eleventh.”
“I’m sorry.” Pastor Mark sighed, his eyes still on Kari. “I’m praying for him. Have your dad keep me posted.”
“I will.”
The pastor hesitated and settled back into his chair. “Well, Kari. Martha thinks you might be ready.”
“Ready?”
“To meet with someone else, someone who’s having difficulties.” He wheeled his office chair around, dug through his file drawer, and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I have someone in mind.”
The sadness over Luke dimmed, and a surge of excitement welled within her. Of course, Kari had thought herself ready months ago. But if Martha thought so, maybe she really was. “What’s her situation?”
“I talked to her on the phone.” Pastor Mark studied the paper. It was covered with half a page of handwritten notes. “She called last week, and from what I gather she’s young, no children. Struggling in her marriage. She said she’s planning to leave her husband in the next few months. She needs complete confidentiality.”
“Does she know me?”
“I didn’t mention your name.” The pastor looked up from the notes. “And she didn’t give me hers. She was very timid on the phone, worried that someone might find out.” His eyes fell to the notes again. “I told her we had a woman here at church who might be able to meet with her, maybe listen and pray with her. I promised that no one would ever have to know her name or that she was meeting with anyone.”
“What did she say?”
“It wasn’t the answer she was looking for.” Pastor Mark gave Kari a sad smile. “I think she’s pretty set on a divorce.”
Kari’s heart broke for the woman. Marriage could be so difficult, especially with all the pressures that came from daily life. Yet, if she and Tim had worked through their problems and found unity and love again, so could this woman—whoever she was.
“What are her reasons?”
Pastor Mark lifted the paper so he could see it better. “There’s no affair, at least not at this point. Apparently the woman has a male friend at work who listens to her, but she says he’s not the problem.”
“What is?”
“Looks like the trouble started when her husband got a job transfer out of state. They’re supposed to move this summer. The woman told me she’s already decided to stay here. But I think she’s struggling with that. She’s been a believer all her life. Her family won’t understand. That kind of thing.”
Kari leaned forward and stared at Pastor Mark.
The description almost sounded like Erin—except Erin hadn’t been confiding in any coworker, and she certainly hadn’t made plans to divorce Sam and stay in Bloomington. Kari felt a splash of relief as she worked through the details in her mind. No, the woman must be someone else. “How’d you leave it wit
h her?”
“She agreed to meet with you as long as no one else at church finds out. To tell you the truth, I think she’s looking for a way to ease her guilt. If she meets with you, at least she can say she tried. I think she’s hoping you’ll come alongside her, pat her head, and tell her it’s okay to break up her marriage.”
“Exactly what I won’t tell her.” Kari gave Pastor Mark a sad smile.
“Do you think you’re ready?”
Kari’s heart swelled with the thought of using her past, her pain, to help someone else. “I do.”
“Okay then. When can you meet with her?”
“I’ll call her this week and set it up.”
Pastor Mark scribbled something on a piece of notepaper and handed it to Kari. “Here’s her number. She didn’t leave a name.”
Kari took it, and as she looked at the seven digits, her eyes grew wide. She felt the blood drain from her face, and her heart skittered into an unrecognizable pattern.
It wasn’t possible.
Why hadn’t she said anything to Kari? And how would she react when she found out Kari was the person she was going to meet with? None of it seemed even remotely possible. When had she decided to leave her husband, and why hadn’t she told anyone else? And what about this male friend? Who was he?
Kari had no answers, no facts to go on except one—the one very undeniable truth that she held in her trembling hands.
The phone number on the slip of paper did not belong to a stranger.
It belonged to her sister Erin.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Irvel’s bruises were enough to make Ashley sick.
The old woman lay in bed moaning, her withered arms discolored with patches of deep purple and blue, streaked with lines of blood red. Her head rolled from side to side, her eyes wide and fearful. There was a strong odor in the room, as though Irvel hadn’t bathed in days. Not only that, but her hair was separated in oily sections, matted to her head. She looked like she’d aged ten years in two weeks.
Ashley barely recognized her.
“Irvel?” She crept into her room Tuesday morning, her stomach in knots. What in the world had happened to her? She went to Irvel’s bedside and took the old woman’s hand. “Hello, Irvel, how are you?”
Irvel stopped moaning and turned her eyes to Ashley. There was a moment when she looked like she might scream. But instead, her lids lowered, and she smacked her lips. Then she began singing. “Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father. . . . Great is Thy faithfulness . . . O God my Father. . . . Great is Thy . . .” The words were rusty and fast, and she spouted them over and over, completely out of tune.
They sounded like they were coming from a crazy person.
She’s acting like Laura Jo! How could this happen? Anger built up in Ashley, but she contained herself. Irvel didn’t need her outrage; she needed her sympathy. And her help.
“Irvel, it’s Ashley. I’ve been gone awhile, but I’m back.” Ashley’s voice cracked, and she blinked back tears. “How are you, Irvel?”
“Where’s Hank?” Her words were dry and pasty, and her eyes darted from Ashley to other spots around the room. Irvel let out a loud moan. “I can’t find Hank.”
As confused as Irvel had always been, she’d never acted delusional, the way a person with more advanced Alzheimer’s might. But now . . . were pain pills making her act this way, or had something snapped inside her? Maybe she had a fever. . . .
Ashley lifted her other hand to Irvel’s forehead, but the movement made Irvel cower deeper into her pillow. “Don’t hurt me!” she shouted. She winced, closing her eyes and waving her hands in Ashley’s direction.
Immediately Ashley withdrew. “It’s okay, Irvel. It’s okay.”
What had Belinda done? Irvel had never acted this way before. Ashley clutched at her waist, willing away the growing nausea. “I’m sorry, Irvel. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe now.”
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. . . .”
Tears filled Irvel’s eyes as the Twenty-third Psalm tumbled from her lips. When she’d recited it twice through, her voice fell to a little-girl whimper. “I want Hank.”
“Hank’s all right, Irvel.” Once more Ashley struggled to keep the anger from her tone. It was crucial that Irvel hear only kindness. Whatever had happened, she’d obviously been terrorized enough. “Everything’s okay.”
“I’m in trouble.” Her moaning stopped suddenly, and Irvel attempted to focus on Ashley. “Hank’s looking for me. He wants to help.”
With all her heart, Ashley wanted only to cradle Irvel in her arms and rock away the pain, assure her that she and Hank would be together soon and that no one would ever hurt her again. But she couldn’t even do that. Right now Irvel was too frightened to be touched at all.
“You’re okay now. It’s all right.”
Irvel narrowed her eyes once more and held Ashley’s gaze longer than before. “You know Hank?”
Ashley lifted her gaze to the photos still hanging on the wall. And to the portrait she’d painted of the man. “Yes, Irvel.” A sad smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I know Hank.”
“I thought so.” Like a summer breeze, peace blew across the old woman’s wrinkled features. For the first time that morning, Irvel looked more the way Ashley remembered. “Is he coming by this afternoon?”
“Did he tell you he was coming by?” Ashley kept her voice as unthreatening as possible.
“Yes.” Irvel smacked her lips again, and for a moment her eyes darted about. Then they found Ashley’s once more, almost as though a battle were going on in Irvel’s mind—a battle for her sanity. “He said he was coming.”
“Hank’s never let you down before, has he?”
“Never.”
“Well, then.” Ashley rubbed her thumb gently down the length of Irvel’s bony fingers. “I’m sure he won’t let you down now.”
“Yes.” As though someone had flipped a switch, the oppression seemed to lift from Irvel. Her countenance grew pleasant and confident, almost the way it had been before. “Of course.” She smiled and nodded, her body visibly more relaxed. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She looked at Ashley. “I don’t believe we’ve met, dear. My name is Irvel.”
“Hi, Irvel.” Ashley fought another wave of tears. “I’m Ashley. I think we’re going to get you a bath and wash your hair. Get you cleaned up.”
Light flashed in Irvel’s eyes, and her smile crept higher up her face. “Hank would like that.”
“I’m sure he would.” Ashley gave Irvel’s hand a gentle pat. They’d talked long enough. Irvel needed her rest. “Then maybe later we can have tea.”
“Peppermint tea?” Irvel’s eyes grew wide.
“Exactly.”
“Oh, my dear.” Irvel brought her other hand across her body and clasped it over Ashley’s. “That would be lovely. How did you know? Peppermint is my favorite.”
It was seven-fifteen, and Ashley was supposed to meet with Lu in five minutes. “Tell you what, Irvel. It’s still pretty early. You get some rest, and we’ll start our day in about an hour.”
“All right.” Irvel’s eyelids opened and shut a few slow times, and she yawned. “You know, dear . . .” She lifted her bruised arm and gestured in Ashley’s direction. “. . . you have the most beautiful hair. Just beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?”
* * *
The story came out the moment Ashley was alone with Lu.
“Have you seen her?” Ashley was on her feet, pacing across the small office, her eyes locked on Lu. “The police need to be called about this.”
“I’ve called them.” Lu’s voice was calm and somewhat defeated. “I took pictures. The police are talking to Belinda today. Her attorney is claiming it was an accident—that Irvel fell and that’s what caused the bruises.”
“I saw finger marks up and down her arms, for heaven’s sake.”
Ashley had to work to keep her voice in check. “The woman should be in jail.”
Lu drew a long breath and stared at a document on her desk. “With Alzheimer’s patients it’s often their word against a caregiver’s. Since the patients have a tendency to fall or act out, most of the time it’s difficult to prove abuse.” Lu gave a weak shrug. “Besides, elderly people bruise very easily. A single fall can leave a person Irvel’s age black-and-blue over half her body.”
“So what’s going to happen?”
“If the police don’t have enough evidence, they’ll drop the case.”
Ashley clenched her jaw and groaned. “How’d you find out?”
“I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Krista. She worked the morning shift that day, but she left for a doctor’s appointment. She got back quicker than she expected. When she walked in, she found Irvel on the floor and Belinda standing over her, shouting at her.”
Lu rested her forearms on the desk. “Krista said Irvel had been more restless than usual that morning. Talking constantly about Hank, that type of thing. Krista didn’t know how to handle her.”
Ashley felt her heart sink. “So Krista left for her appointment, and Belinda took over. Is that it?”
Lu nodded. “Apparently Belinda was in a foul mood. Several times—even before Krista left—Belinda yelled at Irvel and ordered her to stop talking about Hank. That afternoon, Irvel refused to sit in her recliner. Instead, she shuffled back and forth from the window to the door, watching for Hank. Several times she tried to leave through the front door. When Krista left, she warned Belinda that Irvel might try to escape.”
Lu hung her head for a moment. When she looked up, there was anger in her eyes. “Belinda laughed and told Krista, ‘Not on my shift, she won’t.’ ” Lu hesitated. “From there it’s pretty easy to piece together what happened.”
“You think Irvel tried to leave?”
“If she wanted to see Hank bad enough, yes.”
Ashley closed her eyes and pictured what might have happened. Poor Irvel would have been desperate to find Hank. Each time she tried to leave, Belinda must have grabbed her by the arm and forced her into her chair. Eventually, Belinda probably became crazy with frustration. That last time, she must have grabbed Irvel and threw her to the floor.
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