“Congratulations on your successful week,” Noah said. “As I promised, I invited a professional fisherman to speak to you. I’d like to introduce you to the Reverend Maynard Draper. Retired evangelist and hobby angler.”
Ross watched as the man who’d managed to point him to every fishing hole and even knew the contents of his tackle box strode from behind the benches. He carried a fat, worn Bible and smiled in a way that hinted he knew their secrets.
The campfire sent fireworks into the night. The night sounds filled the shocked silence a moment before Reverend Draper cleared his throat. He had a voice to match his face—gentle, wise, and slightly roughened around the edges.
“The greatest fisherman said, ‘The Kingdom of Heaven is like a fishing net that was thrown into the water and caught fish of every kind. When the net was full, they dragged it up onto the shore, sat down, and sorted the good fish into crates, but threw the bad ones away.’” He chuckled. “I’ve seen your catch. And I know that you kept everything you hauled up, hoping to make your limits. Tomorrow at the weigh-in, you’ll find out the results. But you’ve already done your job to the best of your ability.”
He closed his Bible. “I’ve enjoyed watching you this week.” He pointed to Ross. “This guy fished for anything he could attract with his bait. But the angling queen here—” he grinned at Abby, whose eyes widened—“she was deliberate about her technique, casting for northern and muskie.” He winked at her. “Nice catch, by the way.”
Ross warmed at her grin.
“The point is, they both caught fish. Using different bait, different methods. Neither was better.” He opened his Bible and read a verse Ross knew well. ‘Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!’
“Jesus doesn’t ask us to fish only with crank bait or live minnows. He tells us to fish. In every account of fishing in the New Testament, when Jesus tells them to cast their net, they haul up a mother lode. Our job isn’t to narrow down the bait; it is to be obedient with the fishing.
“God wants to use all of you, with your different skills, techniques, and passions, to fish for the Kingdom. He’ll sort out the fish. He wants you to be obedient in the casting of your nets.
“I’m encouraged by the example of Peter and Andrew, the first fishermen. Andrew was quiet. He didn’t have his brother’s passion. But he didn’t need it. Once he introduced Peter to Jesus, the spark ignited.”
He smiled, and Ross saw truth in his eyes.
“Use your gifts—cast your net. Then trust Jesus to make you fishers of men.”
Abigail sang the final chorus of the praise song, feeling as if, when Ross looked at her, she just might be the only person under the grand canopy of stars.
If only Ross wasn’t destined for inner-city New York after graduation. She’d heard he had applied for the position at Elisha’s Room. And who wouldn’t hire a man like Ross, a servant zealous for the salvation of teenagers? If only she could buy into his method of evangelism, team with him. But she had her own path. She’d worked for this future, hadn’t she? Spent a small lifetime studying for her PhD in Greek.
God couldn’t ask her to abandon her life goals, her expensive education, for love.
Love?
Warmth rushed through her. Oh yes, she still loved Ross. So much it took her breath away. She longed for his smile in her direction, for the way he made her feel beautiful, smart, and like the only woman who really knew him.
What was it he said this afternoon? I’ve missed you, Abby. The sincerity in his voice stirred—no, downright ignited—the embers she’d tried to pack into a cold ball.
Maybe, just maybe, if she told him the truth, they could figure out a future. Hadn’t their relationship survived a two-year stint on opposite ends of the northern hemisphere?
She waited, huddled on her bench as the students dispersed. It bothered her just a little how Ross spent time with each student, investing in each conversation with animated enthusiasm. But then again, wasn’t that Ross? A leader who touched people one by one.
She’d asked him what happened to him. The answer raised gooseflesh like a cold gust of lake wind. Her old Ross hadn’t changed—he’d grown into a man of God, a fisherman God could use. No, he wasn’t Scotty. Scotty would have beelined to the next item on his to-do list the moment their fellowship time ended, driven by his goals.
Sorta like . . . her.
Abigail bit her lip as regret sliced through her. No wonder the New Lifers had burgeoning attendance, and the Sojourners barely managed to scrounge up enough brains for a lively discussion. Yes, the New Lifers could still use serious Bible training, but they had a corner on relationships that the Sojourners—no, she—could learn from.
The first lesson was authenticity. Ross had it in spades. This, in a word, reeled her in and told her why Scotty had never invaded her heart. With Scotty she felt like an add-on.
Ross made her feel essential. Beautiful. Brilliant.
Then he turned her direction and smiled. As if he’d known she was waiting for him. Her heart did a flip and landed at her toes.
He ambled over to her, his guitar slung behind him like a medieval troubadour’s. “Good sermon, huh?”
She nodded. Cleared her throat. C’mon, intellect, don’t fail me now.
“I found your thief, by the way.” He smiled, but she felt shame boil in her chest. “A raccoon. Tracks all over the kitchen this morning and outside in the mud. We figure someone left the freezer open, and he couldn’t help but figure out a way in.” He shrugged. “Sneaky guy.”
“So it was you, then.” She waggled her eyebrows at his confused look. “Sorta the way you snuck aboard my fishing boat today.” And back into my heart.
“Hey, that was a real wound—”
She laughed. He looked so perplexed, so suddenly afraid. The expression spiraled right to her courage and bolstered it. She forced out the words she’d been dying to say for over a year. “Ross, I was never in love with Scotty.”
His smile vanished. He went white and looked away. She touched his forearm, wanting to take his hand. “I know everyone thought I was, but I never, ever loved him . . . well, at least not the way . . . I . . . love . . . you.”
Her voice betrayed her and hid in her swelling throat. But Ross’s gaze turned to her, searching for the truth. He reached out for the bench, slowly sat, as if his knees threatened collapse. “You love me?”
She tried a verbal yes, but only a nod emerged.
He smiled and, with it, caught up her heart in a passionate sweep. “Oh, home-run gal, I love you too.” He pushed her hair behind her ear, wound his hand into it. “I . . . I’ve loved you since I was thirteen years old and you flattened me with a line drive.”
She might as well surrender to the tears pricking her eyes. He wiped one away with his thumb. His eyes roamed her face, her eyes, her lips. And then he leaned close and kissed her. Softly. Exactly how he had kissed her the night he’d tackled her in the snow. Only this had a much greater effect.
She put her hands on his chest, balling his sweatshirt in her fists, and hung on. A lifetime of longing, of heartache, of love flooded into the moment, and she kissed him with a passion that surprised them both, from his wide-eyed expression.
A low, mischievous smile slid up his face. “Where have you been all my life?”
She grinned. “Right here. Cheering you on.”
THE FISHERPEOPLE of Bethel College pooled their catch and entered it in the Deep Haven contest. Sojourners and New Lifers, together on one entry. As Pastor Dan weighed their entry, Ross knew.
They’d won. Not only the trophy, but a new beginning. The Sojourners would enrich the New Lifers’ ranks, fortifying their passion for relationships with a knowledge of Scripture. New Sojourners would reach beyond the borders of their campus and out into the world.
Even if Ross would never be a part of this new blaze, he’d know he’d been among the first sparks.
Fanning to flame the work Scotty began. Perhaps God inte
nded that all along.
Abby hoisted the trophy and the crowd cheered. Her gaze landed on him, and he nodded, hoping she could see love in his expression.
If only he were smarter. He longed to believe her when she said she never loved Scotty. But Scotty hadn’t flunked out of his senior year. Scotty went on to seminary and right now would have been taking a pastorate and doing great things for God.
Ross hadn’t been thinking with a clear head when he’d taken her into his arms last night. He couldn’t bring her home, away from the dreams for which she’d sacrificed so many years of study. He couldn’t give her a rich ministry life, a setting where her gifts and skills could flourish.
So he hadn’t revealed his dismal future.
Dread tightened in his stomach as she descended the stairs and threaded through the crowd and into his arms.
“Well done, Abs.” He held her tight, unable to let go. Burying his face in her soft hair, he drank in her smell, something floral and clean, thanks to the shower she’d taken at the municipal pool. “You won it for us.”
Her beautiful blue eyes held such sweetness that it made him want to cry.
“Are you headed back to Minneapolis today?” He sounded like he had a cold.
She nodded. “Wanna meet me at the cafeteria for a burger tonight?”
He looked over the top of her head at Melinda and Bucko, who had veered off from the group and were walking hand in hand down the boardwalk. “I’m headed home.”
“Oh, well. Okay. I guess you gotta pack for New York, huh?”
He smiled, pushing her hair behind her ear, loving the feel of it in his fingers. “You’re a great fisherperson, Babe. God has gifted you in so many ways. I’m so proud of you. I just know you’ll do great at Bethel.” He smiled, a flimsy barricade between his words and a breakdown in the middle of the street. “I’ll see ya round.”
“Oh.” The look on her face tore right thought his chest. “I see. Okay.”
She turned away, and he nearly ran after her. I’ll try again! I’ll be more than I am! But he’d decided last night at the campfire that if God wanted him to drive a meat truck, he’d do it faithfully, casting his nets along the way.
He watched Abby join Laurie and the rest of her Sojourners. When she looked back in his direction, he stalked toward his car and out of her life.
The drive to Minneapolis had to be the longest of Abby’s entire life. She watched the landscape whoosh by, the pine and birch forest turning to meadow south of Duluth, then to suburbs as they trekked into the Twin Cities. By the time Laurie pulled up to their tiny off-campus apartment, Abby knew she couldn’t hold in the tears one minute longer.
Ross didn’t want her. She’d unlocked her heart, let him take a good look, and he’d walked away. Obviously her love wasn’t enough for him. Her love, her smile, her personality. Dull. Uninspiring. Then why had he told her he loved her?
She dragged her luggage, the trophy, her sleeping bag, and tackle into the apartment. Piling it in the middle of the room, she flopped down on the sofa and flung her arm over her eyes.
Laurie closed the door behind her. Abby heard the footfalls across the carpet, knowing she’d been less than fair in giving her friend one-word answers for two hundred and fifty miles, but she didn’t want to uncover her heart for Esther’s prying eyes.
Feeling Laurie touch her legs, Abby gave a peek. Laurie sat at the end of the sofa, face pinched. “Okay, now it’s just us. Tell me what happened.”
Abby closed her eyes, gulped a deep breath, and spilled out the wretched story. “And then he just walked away.” She shook her head. “What’s with that?”
A slight smile played on Laurie’s face. “Girlfriend, for a straight-A valedictorian, you need to beef up on your male savvy. The guy failed his senior year.”
“So?” Abby frowned.
Laurie gave a great Ricky Ricardo look of incredulity. “Work with me. He didn’t get his New York gig. He’s going home to deliver meat.”
Abby frowned. “Then why did he walk out on me?”
Laurie grabbed her by the shoulders, looking exasperated. “Pay attention! How’s he supposed to keep up with Doctor of Greek Abigail Cushman?”
“Oh, as if my degree matters.”
“Again, you need to enroll in Men 101. They don’t like to look like failures in front of the women they love. He did say he loved you, right?”
Abby slowly nodded. “I feel sick.”
“Yeah, well, I have a solution.” Laurie stood and walked over to the counter, picked up an envelope. “I love weddings, don’t you?”
Abby dived into Laurie’s idea, hoping that she wasn’t casting her heart at Ross’s feet only to see it trampled. She even sucked in her pride and agreed to be her sister’s personal attendant.
Perhaps this day could mend more than one bridge.
Two weeks later, on a cloudless June day, Abby helped Alyssa into her gown. With her long blonde hair piled atop her head and her flowing white dress, Alyssa had the power to stop hearts.
“I’m so happy for you,” Abby whispered into Alyssa’s ear as she hugged her and discovered that she meant it. So she wasn’t the bride. She could be a superb personal attendant and wrap Alyssa up in her love.
“Thanks, Abby,” Alyssa said, her eyes filling.
Abby smiled and grabbed a tissue. “Don’t cry. You’ll smudge.” Even if Ross wasn’t here with the Springers, Abby could enjoy the day congratulating her sister and applying everything God had taught her over the fishing weekend.
She’d decided she was Andrew, Peter’s quiet, wise brother, helping people one by one find the Savior. She didn’t have Ross’s charisma, but she had a rock-solid knowledge of the Scriptures. And God expected her to use the brainpower He’d given her. Even if the Sojourners had folded, God would use the new group, with their combined strengths, to build His Kingdom. He’d use her to build His Kingdom.
Ross’s words from Psalm 25 returned to her. “He leads the humble in doing right, teaching them his way.” The Lord had led her and taught her through college, then grad school. And then He’d helped her not only land a prize-winning muskie but attract the attention of the campus catch.
Now she just had to set the hook and reel him in.
Buoyed by her sister’s bridal glow, Abby escaped to find Laurie. The organ music swelled from the sanctuary as she exited the vestibule. She spied Laurie squeezing into a parking spot near the back.
“Your sister’s a popular gal,” Laurie commented as she approached.
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
Laurie made a face that reflected mock pain. “You two don’t have any issues, do you?”
“No, we’re good.” Abby took her arm and marched them up to the church, scraping up her courage. Had Ross and his parents already arrived? Or would he run from this event like he’d run from their future? Her confidence took a diving leap . . . and skidded into cold fear when she located him standing next to the gift table.
He looked devastatingly handsome in blue dress pants, a royal-blue shirt, and a yellow tie. The combination had the power to turn her around and send her running. Until she saw his footgear—a pair of flip-flops.
Oh, so Ross. She couldn’t help but giggle.
Then he turned and the laughter stopped.
His mouth opened, and she saw his reaction in his beautiful eyes before she heard it. “Wow.”
So Laurie had been right to dress her to the nines. “Hi.”
He gave Laurie a cursory nod, then fixed his gaze, 120 percent full wattage, on Abby. “You look . . .”
“Wow works for me.”
He took her hand, swallowed. “I missed you.”
Oh, good. “Me too.” She took a breath. Fish hooked. Now reel. Music swelled through the church, and Alyssa emerged from the nursery. She caught Abby’s eye and reached out with a smile. Abby smiled back and kicked her courage into high gear. “Listen, Ross, I know you failed college.”
She would hav
e done less damage if she’d kicked him in the shins. He gulped, turned a painful color. She squeezed his hand. “But I. Don’t. Care.”
He closed his eyes as if her words hurt.
“I asked you who you were. Now I know. You’re just a great guy who’s trying to do his best for Jesus. A guy I love. Who cares about Greek, anyway?” Had she really spoken those words?
Now came the tricky part. She added a breeze to her voice. “Hey, if you really want to learn it, I happen to know a great tutor.”
He frowned.
She nodded. “Free.”
“I don’t know, Abs. I . . . Maybe I’m not cut out for ministry.”
“Are you kidding?” Now this she hadn’t expected. “You’re a natural. Didn’t you listen to the fishing expert? Just use your gifts. I’ll help you with Greek. And you build relationships, find the empty spots, and fill them with truth.” She took his other hand. “You have a way of getting under a person’s skin and making them rethink their life.”
“And do crazy things like enter a fishing contest?”
She shook her head. “Like win a fishing contest.”
He laughed, and the sound of it released the knot in her chest. “Babe, you not only landed the muskie of the year, but—” his voice lowered as he reached up and wove his fingers into her hair—“you reeled in my heart. Hook, line, and sinker. I love you so much, home-run gal. And if you’re really serious, I’ll take that tutoring offer.” He touched his forehead to hers. “On one condition.”
He was so close she could smell his cologne—Polo? The guy hadn’t changed much in a year. Or, wait. Yes, he had. He’d grown from campus hotshot to campus hero. To the hero of her heart.
“What condition?”
“If I pass, you’ll marry me.”
She smiled as her sister walked down the aisle to her groom. “Make me a promise?”
“Anything.” He held her face in his incredible hands, shooting warmth through her entire body.
“I don’t want to go fishing on our honeymoon.”
Chance of Loving You Page 24
