Trusting Him

by Brenda Minton

  "Please." She put a hand to her chest and took another deep breath. "Please let me help."

  His features softened and he smiled. His hand shot out, taking hold of hers. When a car drove by, he flashed a look toward the street and withdrew his hand.

  "Maggie, you have to let me go." He started the bike and released the kickstand. "Stand back and let me drive away."

  "I thought you were different." She backed away from the bike. "I thought you were someone special."

  His eyes closed, briefly, and pain settled like a mask over his features. He didn't try to argue with her. He nodded and started backing out of the parking space.

  Maggie stepped back on the sidewalk and watched as he rode away. Brushing away the tears, she told herself that it didn't matter. Michael had to make his own decisions. And she had to protect her heart.

  Her heart. She closed her eyes as the truth settled into her heart. Michael was more than a soul she wanted to rescue. He was someone she believed in, and now he was gone.

  When she turned around, Pastor Banks was on the church steps. He shook his head as she approached him. His usual smile was nowhere to be found. She needed that reassuring gesture to tell her things would work out. Instead his gaze lingered on the motorcycle driving away from them. She stopped next to him and watched, unsure of what she should do or how she should react.

  "We have to let him go, Maggie. He has to find his own way in this."

  That wasn't what she had wanted him to say. She wanted words of encouragement. He should be telling her that everything would work out, that Michael would be okay. And that if he wasn't, they would go after him and help him.

  "His way is going to destroy him." She looked back toward the road. He was gone.

  "Maggie, Michael is a child of God. Do you think God is going to give up on him? And are we going to give up on him?"

  Maggie didn't know how to answer that question. Her heart felt tangled in a web of emotion. She cared for Michael, but she wasn't really sure what name to put on the emotion…other than caring.

  She had trusted him. How could she have been so wrong?

  * * *

  A week after walking away from Maggie and life still felt out of control. And Michael still hadn't seen Katherine. He had seen plenty of Vince and his cronies. Michael drove away from the apartment building that Vince had just moved into. As he drove through town, his mind switched gears from where he had been and what he'd been doing, to Maggie.

  To missing her. The lonely ache had taken him by surprise. She was a friend, someone who cared about him, of course he missed her. But his heart prodded him to think deeper, to realize that maybe she had become more than a friend. She had made him feel good about himself. And what had he felt about her? Maybe missing her signaled something else, something bigger than friendship.

  He wanted to be the kind of man that Maggie could depend on. Would this end any chances that he might have had? Would she write him off as another person who had let her down?

  He kept telling himself he was doing the right thing, but the right thing was getting more and more difficult. The right thing almost felt as if it was going to lead him back into a life he had left behind. He didn't want that temptation.

  So far he had fought it back. And he had won.

  Blue lights flashed behind his car and a short burst of siren warned him to pull over. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel as he pulled into a department store parking lot.

  The cop approached slowly, gun drawn. Michael leaned back against his seat, waiting, watching and not knowing what would happen.

  The window was down. The cop stopped. "Hands on the steering wheel."

  "Fine." He put his hands up.

  "I want you to climb out of the car, slowly, hands on your head."

  "Can I open the door first? It's hard to open the door with your hands on your head." This part of his life should have been long gone, over. He felt a slow, simmering rage. Even doing the right thing he couldn't catch a break.

  "I'll open the door."

  "Fine."

  Michael stepped out of the car, hands on his head.

  "Slowly turn and put your hands on top of the car."

  "Got it."

  The cop reached into Michael's back pocket for his wallet. Michael waited for recognition. He thought that there should be something. This officer should know what the others knew, that he was an informant. Or maybe not. Maybe they didn't give that information to everyone on the force.

  "Michael Carson, you were weaving."

  The officer had followed him from Vince's. That put Michael in a suspect category, one he didn't belong in.

  "Of course, that's the standard excuse for pulling me over. Would you like for me to walk a straight line or would you like to call Officer Conway?"

  "Conway?"

  "Call him, please."

  "You're telling me what to do? I should take you in now."

  "You and what army?"

  "Are you threatening me?"

  Michael leaned his forehead against the roof of his car and shook his head. Shouldn't someone out there know that he was on the right side of the law? "No, man. I'm not threatening you. I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

  "I've had a long day, too. So don't push me." He pulled Michael's hands behind his back and cuffed him. "For precaution. I'm going to call Conway, but he'd better tell me something good or you're going in."

  "Trust me." Not that anyone else did.

  The cop stepped a few feet back and spoke into the mike on his collar. The whispered words didn't carry. Michael waited, holding his breath, trying to hear something.

  At last the cop stepped forward and uncuffed his hands. "Okay, you're in the clear. But remember, I'm not as trusting as some guys. I don't believe old dogs learn new tricks and I'm skeptical about jailhouse conversions. This might be a good time for you to go home and get off the streets."

  "I plan on it."

  Michael slid into the front seat of his car and rested his head on the steering wheel. Step…something or other, call a friend. He didn't know if he had a friend left in the world.

  * * *

  He did have a friend, and she chose Monday morning to visit his office. She barged through the door just as he turned away from the bookcase behind his desk. At the same time Janet was calling a warning on his intercom.

  Maggie stepped into the room, her honey-blond hair back in a clip and blue eyes glittering with…well, wrath. He could have smiled, if she hadn't looked so thoroughly ticked off with him.

  "You missed church again yesterday."

  "Yes, I did. I'm sorry." He stood.

  "I'm sick of that."

  "Okay."

  "I'd like for you to come back. Whatever you're going through, you can deal with it better at church."

  He would have given anything if he could have told her that he wasn't going through anything, at least not what she thought. He hadn't lost faith, not in God, or even in his own ability to stand strong. If anything, he had learned a lot about himself.

  His main problem right now was loneliness.

  Instead of defending himself he stood there thinking how amazing she looked as she stormed into the room, her eyes flashing fire and determination. The pale blue sheath dress made her eyes look even bluer and the summer sun had lightened her hair.

  The most amazing thing of all— she was here to rescue him. And he needed it. Just looking into her eyes he felt like a man who could possibly be drowning.

  He put the book down and stepped out from behind his desk. A few steps and he'd be close enough to touch her.

  "Are you just going to stand there?" Her chin came up a notch and she took a step forward.

  "I guess I am."

  "You look like something the cat dragged in."

  "Thanks." He rubbed the three day growth of whiskers and then brushed a hand through hair that was definitely getting too long. He knew how bad he looked.

  "Is that it? No explanatio
ns? No apologies."

  "I miss you."

  "Of course you do." She wavered. He saw it in the softening in her blue eyes and the way her teeth bit into her bottom lip. "Michael, please don't do this. Don't give up."

  "I haven't given up, Maggie. Can you trust me?"

  "I'm trying." She closed the distance between them. He could smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo and the light floral of her perfume. "We miss you. I'm not sure what to tell the kids. They've asked if you're coming back."

  "I hope so." He itched to touch her, just to hold her for a minute. He took a step back. "Maggie, you have to leave."

  "What?"

  "You can't be here. You can't be in my life."

  Confusion clouded her vision. "Fine, Michael. I only wanted to let you know that we're here if you need us."

  He did need her, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. To make this work, she had to believe he had fallen and then hopefully Vince would believe. He wouldn't be allowed in Vince's circle if they considered him a threat.

  "I know you're there. But…right now I don't need you."

  A flash of pain shot through her eyes. She looked past him to the window and then she turned and left. He had done the right thing, it just didn't feel like it.

  * * *

  He didn't need her. Maggie sat behind the wheel of her car, still in the parking lot outside the law office. Her throat constricted painfully in response to those words. What a fool she'd been. Of course he didn't need her. Somehow she had convinced herself that maybe he cared and that he might be more than a friend.

  His words had shaken her free from that dream and snatched her viciously back into the real world. She was on the verge of becoming her mother— a woman who spent her life waiting for one man to return and make everything all right.

  With hands that trembled, she called her grandmother. The answering machine picked up, so she left a message that she'd be at Faith's. Next she called to make sure Faith was home.

  A few minutes later Maggie stood in front of Faith's door, unable to knock. She wasn't sure if she could face her friend's sympathy. The door opened as Maggie started to knock.

  "I saw you pull in," Faith explained as she motioned her into the house. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."

  "I don't want sympathy." She wanted chocolate. She went to the cabinet were Faith kept her emergency supply of Lindor truffles.

  "He doesn't deserve you." Faith reached into the bag of foil-wrapped chocolates and took a few for herself. "He's a jerk."

  "No, he isn't."

  "You're too good for him."

  "Probably."

  "He is adorable, though."

  "I agree." Maggie walked onto the deck and Faith followed. "Let's order pizza. I'll pay."

  "There are back-to-back episodes of 'I Love Lucy' on tonight."

  "Sounds good." Maggie opened another truffle. Before she popped it into her mouth she smiled at Faith. "Thank you for always being here for me."

  Faith shrugged as she sat. "Are you ready to talk?"

  "There isn't a lot to say. I thought I knew him, but I don't. I went to his office to let him know I'm here for him." No tears, she reminded herself. "He told me he doesn't need me."

  "And you bought that?" Faith leaned forward, propping her elbows on the wrought-iron patio table. "You're so naive, Mags. When someone says, 'I don't need you,' then that means they really do need you. It's like saying, 'I don't care.' He's obviously pushing you away for a reason."

  "Yes, and the reason is obvious. He doesn't want me in his life. We're not exactly two of a kind."

  "Yes, you are. You're both caring people who have survived a lot." Faith stood, but before she walked back into the apartment she patted Maggie on the shoulder. "Give him time. He knows where to find you. And now I think we should order that pizza."

  Problem solved. Or at least it was solved in Faith's mind. Maggie wasn't as convinced. She had watched Michael change and saw him pulling away from them. And it was her heart that ached at the thought of losing him for good.

  * * *

  The parking lot was empty. Of course it was. He glanced at his watch. It was after eleven. Nobody would be out at this time of night. Every light in Pastor Banks's house was off and there were few cars on the streets in this quiet section of Galloway.

  After his run-in with Maggie earlier that day, Michael had been on edge, questioning every decision he had made. He needed to clear his mind, to get his thoughts together so that he could finish what he started.

  He reached into the back seat of his car and grabbed his racquet. After a long night, he needed a release, a way to work off his energy. What he didn't need was a quiet night at the trailer with just his own thoughts and a mouse for company.

  His own thoughts would get him into trouble. That would take him on a mental trip, thinking about past mistakes, old temptations and new ones.

  Maggie. He missed her. That shouldn't be the driving force in his life at this point. But it was. Or at least it was a big part of what kept him going. He had a friend that he could count on. He had a God who was stronger than any problem he faced. That didn't mean life would be a walk in the park. But as each day went by, he saw that he could overcome.

  He felt God's presence. He felt strength when he shouldn't have felt strong. He glanced up at the steeple that gleamed in the pale moonlight. It reached heavenward, tall and steady. He looked up at the brilliant midnight-blue sky twinkling with millions of stars.

  God knew the ache he felt, the fear of losing himself in this mess. He wanted to help Katherine and the kids with hollow eyes who were on a path of destruction they no longer recognized as a threat.

  In the process, he didn't want to lose what he had gained. He didn't want to lose this place, the friendships that he had built or the trust of these people. Or Maggie. And he didn't want to lose himself.

  He walked back to the retaining wall. It was dark, but a nearby streetlight cast a line of orange light onto the pavement. He tossed the ball and when it bounced back he gave it a hard hit that shot it against the concrete, returning it with more force. He hit harder.

  A car rattled to a stop. He grabbed the ball and glanced back at the parking lot, groaning as Maggie got out and walked toward him. Her smile wavered. She stopped a short distance away, looking unsure.

  "I didn't expect company."

  "I didn't expect to see anyone here at midnight."

  "What are you doing out this late?" He hit the ball again, swinging when it returned.

  "I was at Faith's and then I went to Wal-Mart. I like to go when it's quiet."

  Her voice came from a short distance away. He shot a quick look in that direction and hit the ball again. He considered telling God that he didn't need her, that this was a distraction he could do without. He couldn't lie to God.

  "You cut your hair."

  His hand went to the back of his head and he nodded. He turned to offer her a smile. "Yeah, it was getting on my nerves."

  "It looks nice."

  "Thank you." He set the racquet and ball down on a bench. She took a few steps toward him, close enough that he could almost reach out and touch her. He was so tired of being lonely. And she was here. He could ask her to go for coffee. She would do it, he knew she would.

  "Maggie, you shouldn't be here, talking to me."

  "That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard yet. Michael, I'm here for you. Whatever is going on, you can tell me."

  What he wanted to tell her was that he could be counted on. Not all men walked away from their commitments. And sometimes things appeared a certain way, but there was an explanation.

  She stood in a circle of orange light, darkness on the periphery, making it feel as if they were alone in the world. She stared up at him, waiting for something that would help her to understand. And he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't tell her what he was doing, or why. Doing that would put an end to everything.

  He couldn't take the chance that she would tel
l or that someone else would find out. If it got around. If Vince found out that his suspicions were true, it could all be over. The rats would go back in their holes and the past few weeks would be for nothing. He couldn't tell Maggie anything.

  "We're friends, and you can talk to me."

  "I don't need you, Maggie." The words slipped from his lips, not even close to the truth, but the only way that he could push her away. It didn't work this time. This time she stood her ground.

  "Fine, you don't need me." Anger flashed, wiping away the moment of pain he had seen in her eyes. She squared her shoulders and her chin came up. "Go ahead, then, ruin your life and the second chance you've been given. Toss away our friendship."

  "Thanks, Maggie, that's exactly what I needed to hear." He smiled as he said the words, but each accusation she had tossed at him hit the mark.

  "I don't want to lose you." Her words hit as sharply as his. "I don't want you to be like my mother, telling me that you're clean and then one day being taken away in an ambulance. She never came back, Michael. I don't want to lose you to this. I can't take losing another person that I care about."

  Her voice was thick with emotion and tears were rolling down her cheeks. He took a step forward but stopped short of reaching for her. He started to tell her he wouldn't let her down, but she shook her head, turned and walked away.

  It had been his plan to push her away. He had never meant for them both to be hurt like this. He had never realized how much he would want to hold her.

  Forever.

  Chapter EighteenMaggie watched as Chance and a few of the other boys, supervised by Pastor Banks, carried her grandmother's furniture back into the house. After three years of saving, Maggie had finally managed to buy new carpeting for the entire house. It felt good.

  And she felt empty. When one of the girls asked Maggie if she wanted a glass of iced tea, Maggie nodded and accepted the plastic cup with a smile. Four months ago she had felt like she had her life all tied up with a neat little bow.

  Everything had been in order, including her emotions. Michael Carson had unraveled her well-ordered life. He had forced her out of her comfort zone. And now what?