by Kate Hewitt
“It’s like that, is it—” he began.
“I’ll talk to Jasper,” Rachel said hurriedly. “Can we please not dissect my love life right now, or actually, ever?”
“So you have a love life,” Esther said, and now Rachel was the one rolling her eyes.
“For heaven’s sake, just leave it, please.”
“Give her a break, Esther,” Will said mildly, but his wife was clearly not to be deterred.
“If it’s not Dan, and it’s not Jasper…”
“It’s not anyone—”
“It’s Sam,” Esther crowed, and Rachel shut her mouth. She wasn’t going to say a word, not one word. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to.
“Sam West?” Will said, startled, and Esther nodded, her narrowed gaze trained on Rachel.
“You’ve fallen for a bad boy, Rach. Honestly.”
“He’s not a bad boy,” Rachel snapped. “Don’t be so judgemental, Esther.”
Esther held her hands palms up. “I was just joking—”
“Well, it’s not funny. Sam’s worked hard to get to where he is, and he hasn’t had an easy life at all.” Rachel gulped as she realised with a rising sense of panic just how close she was to bursting into noisy tears in front of her entire family.
She lifted her chin and tried for a dignified glare, but then she saw all the looks everyone was giving her—ranging from surprised to downright stupefied.
“My goodness,” Esther said faintly. “You really do care for him.”
And that’s when she burst into tears. Will and Simon beat a hasty, alarmed retreat while Esther, Anna, and Miriam all gathered around as her sobs slowly turned to snivels.
“Sorry,” she finally hiccupped. “I don’t know where that came from.”
“I do,” Anna said as she rubbed her back. “You’ve had so much to deal with, Rachel. First the wedding…”
“Please, let’s not talk about that.” Rachel fished for a crumpled tissue from her pocket and gave a hearty blow of her nose. “I’m over that.”
“But still, it’s all bound to come out, isn’t it? And then Mum and Dad leaving…”
“Yes, but we’ve all been dealing with that, and in any case, we’re grown women.” She thought of Sam being taken from his parents at such a young age, and Nathan too, and she almost started sobbing all over again.
“It’s still a lot to deal with,” Anna said stubbornly, and Miriam and Esther both murmured their agreement. It took Rachel a few stunned seconds for realisation to dawn.
“You’re trying to excuse it,” she said slowly. “My…my feelings for Sam. Because of the wedding and Dan and Mum and Dad…you think I only care about him because of all that?”
Three uncertain and fairly guilty faces stared back at her. “Why couldn’t I like him—love him, even—for who he is?” Rachel demanded, all traces of tears gone.
“Love him? Rachel, you barely know him,” Esther scoffed.
“I know him better than you think,” Rachel shot back. “I admit, maybe not enough to love him, but to care for him, yes. Definitely yes.” She gazed at them all in turn, trying to understand why they all looked so uncomfortable. “Why do you have trouble believing that? Because of who he is?”
“Not exactly,” Esther said, sounding uncharacteristically reluctant to spell it out. “But you have to admit, he’s had quite a different life to ours—”
“He lived in the vicarage for several weeks,” Rachel cut across her. “Did you know that?”
“Did he?” Esther looked surprised. “Mum and Dad had so many people through over the years…”
“Anyway, what did you mean, not exactly?” Rachel’s three sisters all exchanged looks that made her want to scream. “What?”
“Rachel,” Anna said, her voice far too gentle, “it’s just…Sam’s not exactly your type, is he?”
“Perhaps I didn’t know what my type was.” She glanced accusingly at Miriam. “What do you think, Miriam? You seemed to think it was reasonable to care about him when I talked to you the other day.”
“I’m not sure caring about someone is ever reasonable,” Miriam said on a sigh. “It’s certainly not sensible.”
“Dan Taylor was eminently sensible,” Esther remarked. “Don’t you think you might be rebounding here, just a little? Going in the opposite direction after you’ve had a bad breakup?”
“You said yourself it wasn’t a bad breakup,” Rachel reminded her. “This isn’t what’s happening here.”
“It’s just,” Anna tried again, “you’ve always had such ideas about what you want your life to be like, Rachel. The big house, all the kids…” She trailed off uncertainly. “Do you know what I mean?”
Rachel wanted to be offended, and in truth she was more than a little hurt, even though she understood where they were coming from. “Yes, I had those dreams, once upon a time,” she said. “And I admit they may have seemed a bit shallow on the surface. I let myself get carried away by the trappings.” She drew a shaky breath. “But I’m different now, and Sam is different. I don’t want what I used to, at least not exactly.” She still wanted the home and the family, the love and the laughter…but she was starting to understand just how different that could look and feel.
“Isn’t this all a little fast?” Esther interjected. “You barely know Sam West.”
“Yes, well, we’re all getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” Rachel answered with a sniff. “Because I’m not at all sure he cares about me.”
This was met with a thunderclap of silence before Esther asked in her usual, blunt way, “So what has happened between you?”
Rachel shook her head. She was not going to desecrate the memory of the best and most real and honest kiss she’d ever had by telling Esther about it like it had been nothing but some semi-sordid snog. “I’m done talking about this,” she announced instead.
Esther looked offended. “Don’t you want our advice?”
“No,” Rachel answered, deciding to be as blunt as her sister. “I don’t. I want Mum’s advice.” The realisation reverberated inside her, solid and true. Her mum would know what to say, what to do. Her mum always did.
She didn’t get a chance to talk to her mum until later that night, due to the time difference between Thornthwaite and Jinan. While Miriam stayed at the vicarage to watch a movie with Simon and Anna, Rachel sat curled up on the sofa in her flat, hugging a pillow to her chest, as her mother’s face froze for a second in a rictus smile before the connection was established and there she was, on the screen, her face as familiar and lovable as always.
“Hey, Mum.”
“Rachel! It’s so good to see you. How are you?”
“Fine.” Now that she had her mum on the screen, Rachel didn’t know how to explain what was going on. And really, what did it matter? Sam had said he wasn’t interested in a relationship, because he thought she deserved better. What recourse did she really have? “How are you, Mum?”
“Busy. We’ve just gone out to some surrounding villages for the first time and it’s really incredible. The people have so little, and yet they’re so warm and open and friendly. Honestly, Rachel, if I’d known what it would be like, coming out here, I never would have dragged my feet.”
“You didn’t drag your feet,” Rachel protested. “You were willing to go—”
“There’s willing and there’s willing,” Ruth answered with a smile. “It took your father far too long to convince me that this was the right course of action, but I’m glad we’re here. So glad. Anyway.” Her mother gave her a direct look. “What’s going on with you? How is teaching? And how is that puppy?”
“Bailey’s fine.” Rachel scooped up the puppy from the floor to give Ruth a close-up of Bailey’s lovely, squishy face. “And teaching is going well, a little trickier this year, but nothing I can’t handle.” Hopefully.
Ruth gazed at her from thousands of miles away, eyes slightly narrowed. “So what’s troubling you?” she asked, and Rachel almost laughed. She could
n’t fool her mum, even when they were on different continents.
“There’s a man,” she blurted, and surprise rippled across Ruth’s features before she nodded.
“Ah.” There was a world of understanding in that one syllable. “And what man would that be?”
“You know him, actually.” Rachel hadn’t told her mum much about her living situation except that she and Miriam had found a flat in the village, and now her words tumbled over themselves as she sought to explain. “His name is Sam. Sam West. He owns The Bell—”
“Sam.” Ruth smiled in memory. “I remember him, of course. He stayed with us when he was little—oh, about seven or so.”
“That’s right.” Of course her mum remembered Sam. Ruth had always had a knack for not just remembering names of people but their life situations, as well.
“Sam is the man you’re talking about?” Ruth couldn’t keep a hint of surprise from her voice. “How did you meet him?”
“He owns The Bell, and I’m living above it. And I teach his nephew in Year Three.”
“All right.” Ruth waited, but Rachel didn’t even know where to begin.
“I’m not sure what I’m even asking you,” she blurted. “There’s not much to tell. We’re…friends, and I’ve helped him and he’s helped me. And he’s a good man—I know that. He’s been through some difficult things, and he’s done some bad things, but he’s really made a new man of himself.”
“That all sounds very positive,” Ruth said gently. “But I suppose the real question is—do you have feelings for him, Rachel? And does he have feelings for you?”
“Ye-es.” Rachel’s voice wavered. “I do. And I think he does for me, but he doesn’t want to do anything about it because he thinks I deserve better.”
“And what do you think?”
The question rocked Rachel, because she hadn’t been expecting it. What did she think? “I suppose,” she admitted painfully, “I would have agreed with him, once upon a time. I had such plans for my life, Mum—”
“I know you did, darling.”
“I just wanted what you and Dad had—the house, the family, the dog and the Aga…all of it. It felt perfect. It was perfect, until…” She stopped, but Ruth filled in the words, her voice quiet and sad.
“Until Jamie died.”
“Yes.” Rachel sniffed. She was going to cry again. “I think my whole life I’ve been trying to get back to the way things were before then.”
“But you know as well as I do that you can never go back,” Ruth said quietly. “And however it looked to you as a child, Rachel, it wasn’t perfect. Nothing is. And happiness comes in many forms, not just a big, old house, a family, a dog, or any of those trappings, as lovely as they are. The important thing to think about, to decide, is what kind of life God is calling you to.”
Rachel squirmed a little, because she hadn’t really been thinking about it like that at all. She’d been thinking about what she wanted, what kind of life she envisioned for herself. But what if happiness was to be found in something else entirely? And not just happiness, but importance? Meaning? Something that had been missing now for a while.
“How am I supposed to figure that one out?” she asked a bit grumpily. Of course her mum would spiritualise things. And yes, maybe it was spiritual, but still. Rachel wanted answers, clear-cut and specific.
“The usual ways. Talk to people you trust, examine your heart, pray.” Ruth paused. “I’m not there, darling, so I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you that all through my life I’ve been straining towards learning this lesson—which is that we are called to do what is hard and right, and love is usually both of those things. That first blush of romance fades and you’re left with a lot of struggle and striving—which is where the miracle happens, and where love really grows and flourishes.” She smiled, her face suffused with gentleness. “That doesn’t mean if something is hard it’s also right, but it does mean that we shouldn’t shy away from something because it’s hard, and only choose the things that are easy or fun. Only you can examine your own heart in this.”
Rachel sat back, exhausted just by the thought. Why couldn’t things be right and easy? “Do you love Sam?” Ruth asked, and Rachel swung back to stare at the screen.
“I don’t think I can say that yet. This is still… In some ways we are only just getting to know one another…”
“But…?”
“I think I could love him,” Rachel said slowly. “But I’m scared to.” The confession felt both shameful and liberating. “Because I don’t want to give up all those dreams. Because he’s not the sort of man I thought I’d fall in love with, even though in the important ways he is—honest and brave and loyal. And because I know getting involved with him will be messy and difficult—his nephew is very challenging, and he has custody of him, and he has his own past…” She trailed off uncertainly. What was she really saying? That she wasn’t willing to muck in with life in all of its complicated mess? That the dream of the life she’d had was more important than the wonderful, current reality? Or just the plain, unvarnished truth—that she was afraid to get hurt?
“I think,” Ruth said with a smile in her voice, “you’ve found your answer.”
*
IT TOOK RACHEL three days to work up the courage to examine her heart as her mother had advised, and then another three days to work up even more courage to follow it. All the while Sam was avoiding her—hurrying past when she saw him outside the pub, ducking into a storeroom when she came into The Bell. Rachel told herself she didn’t mind, because she wasn’t ready yet.
But then, on a cloudy Saturday morning in mid-October, she knew she was. She’d taken care of other things first—a painfully awkward conversation with Jasper, who had taken her hesitant rejection in good form, although Rachel knew she’d hurt him. Dan had called her to say the estate agent had a firm offer on the house, which felt fitting, to let that dream finally die. Nothing stood between her and Sam except, of course, Sam himself.
Her sisters had given her space to work everything out in her own mind, although as Rachel dressed that morning she wouldn’t have minded having a bit of moral support. How did you go about convincing a man to take a chance on you? She had no idea, because she’d always been the one to be asked, pursued, even chased. She’d enjoyed it—the thrill, feeling wanted. Now she was on the other side and it felt incredibly daunting.
“What are your plans today?” Miriam asked on a yawn. She was sitting at their little table, drinking a cup of vile green tea and feeding Bailey bits of toast even though Rachel had asked her not to.
“I’m going to talk to Sam,” Rachel said in a manner of someone making a formal announcement. Miriam’s eyebrows rose.
“About what?”
“The fact that he needs to start dating me.” She let out a tremulous laugh before setting her jaw. She was really doing this.
“Wow.” Miriam looked impressed. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks.” Rachel squared her shoulders. “Hopefully I won’t need it.”
Nothing, of course, turned out the way she’d hoped. Sam didn’t answer when she knocked on the door of his flat, and the pub was still closed and shuttered. Where was he? Nerves fluttered in her belly and up her throat as she contemplated her next step, or lack of it. She’d been picturing a quiet, reasonable, mature conversation somewhere private, but of course it wasn’t going to go like that. Nothing in her life ever did.
By mid-afternoon Rachel’s thoughts and feelings were in a ferment; she’d been waiting around most of the day, keeping an eye out for Sam, and slowly but surely losing her nerve.
“There he is,” Miriam announced helpfully as she pointed out the bedroom window to the high street, where Sam was strolling down by himself. “Go get him.”
“I can’t,” Rachel whimpered, and Miriam gave her an Esther-like look.
“You’ve been waiting all day to have it out with him. Now’s your chance. He’s alone.”
�
�He’s in the street—”
“No, he’s just gone into the pub. Perfect.” Miriam gave her a little push. “Come on, Rachel. Whatever way this goes, you need to follow it through. You’ll be disappointed otherwise, and you’ll always wonder if you and Sam could have made a go of it.”
Rachel didn’t move and Miriam gave her another gentle but firm push. “Go on, then.”
And so she did.
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE PUB WAS dim and quiet as Rachel came in from the door in the back, blinking in the gloom. A few old codgers were sat by the bar as usual, hunched over their pints, so she’d have an audience for whatever she was going to say. Perfect.
“Sam?” Rachel’s voice wavered, little above a whisper, but Sam heard her anyway. He turned from his position behind the bar, eyes narrowed, an empty pint glass in one hand.
“Rachel?” He didn’t sound particularly pleased to see her.
“Where’s Nathan?” she practically squeaked, just for something to say.
“He’s playing out with a friend. Toby someone.”
“Toby Smithson? Oh, that’s good.” Toby was a rambunctious boy with a generous heart and he’d been Nathan’s table partner for the last few weeks. The boys had seemed to get along, and Rachel was glad Nathan had made a friend.
“As long as he behaves himself.” Sam’s stare bordered on unfriendly. “What do you want?”
Rachel stared back at him, having no idea how to take that first, flying leap. This was such a bad idea. Panic filled her, making her take a stumbling step backward, ready to bolt. She didn’t even know what she was going to say to him. Please date me? I love you? You had me at hello?
“Is something wrong?” Sam asked, which just showed how crazed and terrified she probably looked.
“No. Yes.” Rachel cleared her throat, and then took a step forward. “I wanted—needed—to talk to you.”
Sam rested his forearms on the bar. “Areet.” He waited, unsmiling. Of course.
“Could we…could we go somewhere private?” At this one of the farmers lifted his head to give her an interested look.
