I assumed he was contemplating Fawn’s predicament, but he surprised me. “Can we talk about us?”
“Us?” I reached for his hand, but he didn’t say anything else until we were leaning against the cement walls of the holding tank. Either he had something important to say, or he was nervous. Or both.
I peered into his blue eyes, not sure I wanted to be having this conversation.
He used two fingers to push my hair out of my eyes and behind my ear. “I’m falling in love with you, Ruthie.” His grin flashed, then instantly vanished. “You’re fascinating … and adorably spunky. You’re constantly surprising me with your cleverness and independence, yet I fret about your college plans and worry about your mother because I want everything that involves you to be happiness.”
His flattery sparked a warm glow of contentment inside me, yet at the same time, I felt exposed. I looked away from him with a smile, studying the brown moss waving in the water.
His voice slowed. “I lay awake at night dreaming of spending the rest of my life with you—watching romantic comedies by the fire, putting up Christmas lights that make the neighbors jealous … raising kids.”
My heart raced. He was saying more than he loved me. Good gracious, did I love him back?
He pressed his palm against my cheek, bringing my gaze back to his face, and his eyebrows floated up momentarily before returning to their starting point. “Is there any part of you that wants to be with me like that?”
The crinkles around his eyes made it impossible for me to concentrate. I searched my mind, trying to piece together a response. How did I feel about him? He was obviously very important to me—I’d risked Momma’s wrath to be with him. And his kind heart pulled me like a magnet. Even his love for God attracted me because of the way he went about showing it.
But he was the preacher, for heaven’s sake. Not only did he lead the congregation that had caused Momma so much pain, but he supported them one hundred percent, to the extent he was blind to the faults of its members. I pictured Neil Blaylock leaning over the counter at the diner, whispering in Momma’s ear, trailing his fingertips across the back of her hand. And Fawn—poor miserable, pregnant Fawn—who had caught Dodd and me together and couldn’t manage to keep the information to herself, even as her own life unraveled.
I didn’t know what to say, so I returned my gaze to the water.
Dodd’s hand traveled down my back questioningly, but he forged on. “But I also dream of you sitting on the front pew as I preach.” He hooked a finger through the belt buckle of my jeans and tilted his head, imploring me to make eye contact. “Ruthie, I know you’re not ready for that yet, but will you study with me? God is the most important thing in my world, and I want to share that with you.” When I didn’t respond, he added softly, “I can’t go on not knowing if it’s a possibility.”
The cold concrete, coupled with the air blowing over the water, chilled me as I slowly formed my thoughts into words. “I know God should probably be the center of my life, and I honestly would like to get to know Him better. But until the church, especially the Blaylocks, stop throwing stones at me, I don’t see how I can reach out to Him.” I finally looked into Dodd’s eyes again. “That would be sort of hypocritical, don’t you think?”
He chuckled. “You’re worried about being a hypocrite?”
We were both silent for several minutes before he bumped my shoulder with his own. The action normally would’ve come across as a laid-back action, but this time it was awkward and forced. “I wish you wouldn’t let the church come between you and God. The people may never change, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”
My scalp prickled. Did he just tell me I needed to change? Breathlessness washed over me as though I had submerged myself in the icy water of the holding tank, and my heart hardened into a frozen block. God may have been alive and well outside the church, but as long as I was with Dodd, the congregation and all its judgment would be inescapable.
He smiled, oblivious to his piety. “They may be throwing stones, but admit it, you’ve thrown a few bricks back at them as well.”
“What do you mean?”
“You judge the church.” He sounded tired. “It’s pulling you down.”
A puff of air erupted from my throat, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “You can’t be serious. I don’t judge the church, Dodd. They judge me. And they judge Momma. And from what I hear, Clyde Felton, too.”
“But you never take into consideration the motives behind their actions. Maybe they believe they’re doing the right thing. Maybe some of them are.”
I gripped my elbows, digging my fingertips into the fleece of my jacket.
His shoulders fell. “Ruthie … the world isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. You’d be a lot happier if you’d admit that.”
“Happy like Fawn?”
“Fawn’s in the middle of a mess, but overall her life has been happy.”
“I guess it depends on your definition of happiness. She’s lived with an overbearing father who set her up for failure.”
Dodd’s voice leveled. “Neil may be off track on some things, but he loves his daughter. He’ll come around.”
“The man is deceitful.”
“No, he’s human. Just like the rest of us.” Disappointment smeared his words. “Surely you have compassion for Fawn, at least.”
I raised my palms, then let them fall to my sides. “I feel sorry for her, I do. But if she hadn’t told Neil about you and me, Momma never would’ve lost her job. And now you may lose yours, too, and I can’t help but think it’s all connected.”
Dodd turned away from me then and placed his hands on the edge of the holding tank, bending at the waist as though he were about to push the cement walls across the yard. He stared at the ground between his boots, his arms rigid and his jaw tight. He remained paralyzed that way until I wondered if he intended to answer.
“Fawn didn’t tell Neil.” He finally answered without lifting his head. “I did.”
His words made no sense at first. I had been expecting him to argue about whether or not Neil got Momma fired, not this. My mouth went dry, and I licked my lips. “What are you saying?”
He swallowed. “A week or so ago, I talked to Neil about the church’s actions against your family. I told him I cared for you and asked his advice.”
My tongue could form no reply as I studied this man who, only moments before, had almost spurred me to declare my love. He still gripped the concrete, staring at the ground between his feet. With his right boot, he pressed a patch of slushy snow into the sand.
What did he expect from me?
I pulled my gaze away toward the gray lines of the old windmill behind the holding tank, lifting my gaze to the sky where its blades once rotated. When I was a kid, JohnScott and I would climb up there where we could see for miles, but now the windmill was only a useless skeleton, replaced by an electric pump. Things changed.
“This is not going to work,” I said quietly. “Us. You talk about loving me, but you don’t listen to what I’m saying or validate my problems. Even your love for me hinges on them.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slowly lift his head. “That’s not true, Ruthie. I want to spend my life with you.”
“No, you don’t.” My lips curved into an empty smile. “You don’t want me. Not really. You want a shadow of who I am.” The new and improved version.
My heart didn’t want to be having this discussion. I didn’t want to say these things to him, and I certainly didn’t want to hurt him. Truth was, I wanted Dodd Cunningham as much as he wanted me, but I had no choice. It was wrong to keep pretending things were going to be all right.
Steeling myself, I whispered, “You don’t need a wife, Dodd. You’re already married to your church.”
I turned to face him then, but the man staring down at me didn’t
even look familiar. I’d never seen his eyes without at least a hint of humor around the edges, and I realized my statement had wounded him deeply.
He spoke in monotone. “Is that really how you feel?”
I nodded, not daring to speak lest my words give me away. I wanted to scream, “Of course that’s not how I feel!” But feelings didn’t matter anymore. Our relationship was no longer about butterflies fluttering in my stomach, or warm kisses shared beneath a Christmas tree. Now it was all about logic. And circumstances. And expectations.
And it simply wasn’t going to work.
His jaw moved back and forth before he asked, “Can we just take a break? Talk about it again later?”
The shrug I gave him was crueler than I intended.
He stared at me for a long time while the rejection in his eyes melted into sadness. Finally he turned away and plodded across the pasture to the El Camino, not once looking back. The blue heeler met him halfway across the yard, following behind with his tail wagging.
When Dodd’s headlights turned onto the highway, I collapsed into a dirty metal lawn chair on which melted snow left a slimy surface, but I didn’t care. Loneliness floated over me like a snowdrift. Loneliness so thick I could smell it. Taste it. Hear it. Not even when my daddy left had I felt anything like it. Not even when the church shunned us. Not even when Momma became a ghost.
But when Dodd Cunningham walked away that afternoon, he left me with no one.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“You broke up with her?” Grady called over the noise of the chain saw.
Dodd didn’t like the accusing glare in his brother’s eyes, but he shut off the saw and shook his head.
“So Ruthie did the breaking up?”
“No, not really.” Dodd gathered an armful of logs from the ground around the dead oak tree in their backyard.
“Generally, it has to be one or the other, so if it’s all the same, I’ll blame you.”
“Whatever.”
Their mother shushed Grady as she followed Dodd to the El Camino parked in the alley behind the house. “Are you all right?”
“Just confused.” He neatly stacked the logs in the back of the car. “And stressed.”
“Ruthie’s bound to be upset too. When things settle down, the two of you can work it out.”
“I’m not sure there’s any way.”
She shook her head. “You have differences, but you’re good together.”
He wanted to believe that—he had believed it, had bet everything on the relationship—but now an overwhelming sense of emotional vertigo told him he had miscalculated the odds. “Her way of viewing life runs contradictory to mine.”
“Not surprising, considering your backgrounds.”
“But Ruthie expects the worst. Every time.”
His mother smiled. “And you expect the best. From all of us.”
Dodd settled on the tailgate and removed his gloves. “I know it’s crazy, but I thought Ruthie was special. You know …” He picked up a piece of bark and crumbled it. “Now I’m not sure either of us wants to make it work.”
“Don’t underestimate her.”
Grady approached with more wood. “Mom’s right. You never know what God has in mind.”
Dodd knew his family meant well, but they didn’t know Ruthie like he did. They didn’t understand her insecurity. She had forgiven Clyde for scaring her, but she might never forgive the church. Or the Blaylocks. And the root of her bitterness was her father. She hadn’t ever forgiven him for abandoning her.
From across the yard, the gate clinked, and Dodd’s hope plummeted even further as Charlie Mendoza came around the side of the house.
“I thought you might be back here. There was no answer at the front.”
Dodd rose, stuffing his feelings to the far back corner of his mind. “You’re just in time, Charlie.”
“Looks like I missed the worst of it. Mind if I help you wrap things up?”
All three Cunninghams knew exactly why Charlie was there, but they appreciated his offer to pile brush and load wood, not because they needed the help, but because it softened the blow he had been sent to deliver.
They worked alongside each other for an hour, talking about nothing in particular and cracking jokes. When the brush was piled in a mound in the middle of the yard, Dodd set fire to it, and the two men and Grady sat on stumps warming their hands while Milla excused herself to tend to dinner.
“I suspect you know why I’m here,” Charlie said.
Dodd picked up a stick and broke it in half. “You mean you didn’t come for the manual labor?”
“I wish that were it, son.”
The fire flickered as Dodd stared into it, and a surge of injustice swept through him, and with it a flash of cynicism. “There’s a lot happening in this little town, isn’t there?”
“Unfortunately, it seems to have started when your family arrived.”
“Not a coincidence, I suppose.”
Charlie peered at him. “I don’t take the situation lightly.”
“Neither do I.” Dodd tossed the stick into the fire. “Let’s get it over with, Charlie. Just give me the bottom line.”
The older man leaned his elbows on his knees. “There are three areas of discontent.” He removed his cap and held it with his fingertips, lending the lanky man an air of delicacy.
Dodd finished his thought. “Fawn’s baby, Clyde Felton, and the Turners.”
Charlie withered. “Are you proud of what’s happened?”
“No, I’m not, but I don’t see where my family has done anything to be ashamed of.” He waited until Charlie nodded. “Fawn made a mistake. She sinned, but my family had nothing to do with it.”
Charlie’s gaze flickered to Grady, then back. He said nothing.
Dodd studied his brother. “Is that baby yours?”
Grady ducked his head. “Of course not.”
Charlie’s gaze fell to Dodd, and his eyes held an apology. “Neil heard differently.”
“If Grady says it’s not his baby, it throws doubt over Neil’s accusation, but the fact Fawn says it’s not his baby blows the accusation out of the pond. After all, she should know.”
Charlie squirmed. “Well, what about Clyde Felton? Neil talked to you about that, yet you continue to socialize with him.”
“After the reception he received, I don’t think there’s any danger of him disrupting services again. Do you?”
Charlie frowned, but there was desperation in his voice. “Dodd, I don’t fully agree with the charges Neil brought against your family, but your attitude is wrong, brother.”
Dodd fingered the bark of the stump beneath him, recognizing bitterness in his heart. He sighed, wishing he could go in the house and lie down on the couch. “You’re right, Charlie. And for that I apologize.”
Charlie scratched his head, mussing his hair. “And then there’s Lynda Turner and her daughter. I know you want to do right by them, but until Lynda humbles herself and talks to us about what happened, our hands are tied.”
Dodd felt the urge to grasp his own forehead to keep it from exploding. His inability to do anything for Ruthie was driving him to madness. “But Lynda’s hurting, Charlie. I’m not sure she has the emotional strength to come to us, even if she wanted to. The only way we’ll ever reach her is through Ruthie.”
“Could be, but with the whirlwind we’ve got swirling around us now, we need to let things settle.”
“Let them settle?”
“Everything’s upside down. The congregation is upset, wanting to know what’s going on. They’re ruffled.”
“I find that encouraging.”
“But surely you can see how it would help if things slowed down a bit.”
Dodd gazed into the fire, remembering his conversation with Neil. The two men voiced sim
ilar words of wisdom. “Yes, I do see.” He turned his head toward Charlie. “But you didn’t come here to tell me to slow down.”
Charlie rubbed the side of his hand against his jeans. “No.”
“Before you ask me for a letter of resignation, can you do something for me?”
“Anything,” Charlie blurted, but then he caught himself. “I’ll … I’ll try.”
“Think about what’s happened the past few days, the past few months, and even years ago. Search your heart for the truth, and call on the Lord for His guidance.”
Charlie thought for several minutes before he said, “You’ve made a valid point. We need to slow down just as much as anyone, but in the meantime, I’ll get one of the men from the congregation to preach for you, and Lee Roy can teach your Bible class.” His gaze bounced to Grady, then back to Dodd. “But I ask you and your family to show respect in the meantime and avoid interaction with those we’ve discussed today. A two-week time-out would be healthy for everyone.”
Dodd glanced at the firewood in the back of the El Camino as a fresh wave of exasperation flooded over him. “We’ll do our best, Charlie. That’s all I can promise.”
Chapter Forty
“Ruthie, why on earth would you break up with a hunk like Dodd Cunningham?”
It never ceased to amaze me the speed news traveled in our little town. Maria barely let me get my front door open before throwing more questions at me. How did she even hear about it? “Come on in.”
“Tell me everything.”
Slouching on the couch, I pulled a quilt over my legs and wondered what I should tell her, and how much she had already heard. For this very reason, I’d called in sick to both jobs. I didn’t want to answer questions about Dodd, or Fawn, or any of it. Tucking my feet under me, I said, “It didn’t work out, so we’re taking a break. That’s all.”
“But why?” Maria had never been in my house, so her gaze shifted around the room, inspecting every detail. “Does it have anything to do with Fawn Blaylock being pregnant?”
“I don’t know. Not really. It’s everything. Dodd and I are different.”
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