by Lois Richer
“Good idea. Noah and I will pick up the others if Laurel agrees. How are you holding up, Cassie?”
“A little rest and I’ll get my second wind back.” She hesitated. “How did you fare after a night with my son?”
“Actually, it was fun.” His voice dropped. Cassie figured Noah must be nearby. “We played some games after dinner. He beat me, as usual.”
“It was a lot easier to do my job knowing you were there for him,” she said. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”
Would Rick hear in her words how much more she wanted than friendship?
“You’re welcome. Now is there anything I can do for you personally?” The briskness of Rick’s voice was at odds with what he was asking. “Anything?” he repeated.
“If I phoned Laurel and asked her to pack a bag, could you pick it up when you get the boys and drop it here on your way past?” Cassie asked after a moment’s thought.
Rick agreed and then quickly got off the phone. Cassie worried that maybe by asking him to care for Noah, she’d asked too much. And yet, Rick loved kids. He’d become a pro at coaxing Noah out of whatever mood he was in. No, something else was bothering him.
And Cassie now felt sure it was whatever he’d been trying to tell her about for a while now, but never quite managed to say.
Confused, Cassie went to sprawl on a cot in the staff room. Too tired to puzzle it out, she finally closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.
But it wasn’t the restorative sleep Cassie needed. Instead, she dreamed of the handsome preacher. Though she tried to reach him, he kept backing away, insisting he couldn’t care for her, that she wasn’t the kind of woman he needed for a wife. She hadn’t helped her husband through his crisis, nor was she having success with her son. She was a failure.
Cassie woke feeling as if a gray cloud hung over her. She couldn’t shake the disquieting thought that trusting Rick so completely was a mistake.
She rose and went down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee and something to eat before she went back to work. Thanks to the odd dream she’d had, she felt strangely subdued when Rick entered, carrying a small bag.
“I brought your things. What is that?” he asked, looking askance at the half-full bowl in front of her.
“Porridge. Somehow I don’t seem to have the energy to eat it,” she admitted wearily.
“Leave it. I’ll get you some real food.” He walked over to the counter, flashed a smile at the woman behind it and soon returned with a fluffy, steaming omelet. “Try that,” he said setting it before her.
“The cafeteria doesn’t make omelets,” Cassie said, unable to stop staring at him as her soul soaked in the beloved lines of his tired face.
“They do today. Eat up. You need some protein.” Rick leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Well?” he demanded when she didn’t pick up her fork.
Cassie obediently placed a forkful of the omelet in her mouth. Her eyes widened as the delicious flavors woke up her senses. Rick got up and refilled her coffee cup, and got one for himself. He waited until she’d finished everything on the plate before he spoke again. “Thanks for suggesting we visit the seniors,” he said quietly. “We’ve lost Mr. Saunders but we managed to get help for others who were in trouble.”
“I heard about Mr. Saunders,” Cassie said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Rick’s chin drooped to his chest, his eyes downcast. “He was an amazing man. His integrity never wavered. What he said, he did.” Rick said the words slowly, thoughtfully.
That feeling that something was going on with him, something she didn’t understand, nagged at Cassie.
“I hope people remember me as fondly as everyone speaks of him.” Touched by Rick’s dejection, Cassie reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder to express her sympathy. He didn’t immediately pull away. For a moment, the pastor leaned into her touch, as if he needed it to deal with his sorrow.
But a moment later Rick drew back. He lifted his head to look at her and Cassie realized something had changed in their relationship. Something had come between them.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered as fear built inside. “You can tell me, Rick. In fact, I think you’ve been trying to tell me for some time now.”
He looked directly at her. “You’ve been a good friend, Cassie.”
Emphasis on friend. She’d been right. He was distancing himself. But why?
“And you’ve been a good friend to me,” she said very quietly. “What’s bothering you, Rick? Can I help?”
“Now you want to help me?” Rick gave a soft chuckle. “Don’t you have enough to do, woman? You’re working overtime, you’re dead tired and you want to help me?”
“If I can.” She held his gaze and her breath, waiting.
“You’re quite a lady, Cassie Crockett.” Respect laced his voice. She also thought she heard a note of caring in his kind words. But if he did, why was he trying so hard to build distance between them?
She wanted so much to help him, to give back just a bit of the help he’d so unstintingly offered her. But more than that, she wanted to share the burden of whatever troubles made his shoulders bow.
Most of all, she wanted to love him, and have him love her.
Love. I love him.
For a moment that knowledge paralyzed Cassie. All she could do was stare at him, filling her senses with his presence, letting the rush of joy suffuse her body.
She loved him. But he was hurting.
“Please let me help you,” she whispered.
Rick gazed at her. The pure emerald-green of his eyes laid bare his emotions—sadness, grief, helplessness, but worst of all a despondency Cassie had never seen in him before.
“I can’t.”
Stung, Cassie drew back.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice raw, ragged, as if he was having trouble breathing. “Something important.”
Her pager went off. Cassie wanted to scream at the interruption. She needed to know what was wrong between them so she could fix it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rising slowly.
“I know.” Rick rose, too, carrying her bag. “I’ll leave this at the desk for you. You can pick it up later.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t make herself go, couldn’t leave him like this. The pager went off a second time. “Rick, let’s make sure we talk later, okay?”
“Take care of yourself, Cassie,” Rick said, his voice hoarse and strained.
Why did it sound as if he was saying goodbye?
Aching for the pain he seemed to be in, Cassie stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek.
“You take care of yourself, too, Rick,” she said, then hurried away with no understanding of what had just happened between them.
Lord? I trust You. Please help him.
Cassie halted, and took a moment to amend her prayer.
Please help us.
* * *
For seven long days the flu epidemic raged through Churchill. Rick drove himself to be the pastor his community needed. He prayed by parishioners’ bedsides through long, lonely nights and worry-filled days. He fetched and carried whenever he was asked. He drove countless people to the hospital. He made sure those who were fighting the flu at home had all they needed.
He made himself as useful as he could around Lives, too. He and Teddy Stonechild helped Laurel take care of the boys’ meals so Sara could stay home and keep her baby safe.
In a way, the long nights and wearying days were a panacea, allowing Rick to avoid the painful acceptance of what he knew God was asking him to give up—what he now accepted as a soul-deep love for Cassie. He told himself he kept up his frenetic pace because his job was to minister to people.
But that wasn’t the whole truth.
As day after weary day passed, each time he caught a glimpse of Cassie in the hospital, all thoughts of his ministry fled. The vibrancy that had always characterized her bouncing gold curls and melting brown eyes faded. Her beautiful face grew thin and drawn as she lost weight from working so hard. The only thing that cheered Rick was seeing her never-faltering smile that was always at the ready for patients and staff alike. When she smiled at him, he wished for the privilege of seeing it every day for the rest of his life.
But Rick knew that could never be. No one could wreak the kind of pain and havoc he had and get away scot-free.
She smiled at him now, as she sat across from him in their now-familiar meeting spot in the cafeteria. He could hear the harshness in his own voice and knew concern underlay it.
“You need to get out of here,” he said, hating how pale she was, and worried by the way her hand trembled when she lifted her coffee cup.
“A few more hours,” she murmured, closing her eyes to savor the brew. “Fresh staff will arrive then and I’ll be able to leave.”
“Can you last that long?” He struggled to stem his irritation at whoever had asked her to keep working when she was obviously so exhausted.
“Oh, Rick, how can you ask that?” She shook her head at him and for a moment her lovely brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “Don’t you know ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me’?”
He had to smile. In spite of all the difficulty she’d endured, or perhaps because of it, Cassie’s faith had grown by leaps and bounds this week. He’d overheard her quoting an encouraging verse to another staff member. She’d even told him yesterday that seeing the precariousness of life had made her realize she needed to keep her faith strong. For that Rick gave praise.
“I’m not the only one who’s overworked,” she said. “You’ve been run off your feet looking after everyone, haven’t you?” Her big brown eyes peeked through the stray strands of blond curls that tumbled onto her forehead. “I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Rick had made up his mind that today, he would finally tell her what he’d done to her father. And yet as he sat here, looking at her, feeling what he felt for her, he realized he couldn’t do it.
The knowledge shook him to the core. How could he be so weak, so selfish?
“I do worry about you, Rick.” Cassie’s eyes sent his a silent message that made his skin hum. His fingers itched to push that tendril of gold off her face. “I’m going to go finish my shift.” She stood and looked at him for a moment longer, clearly giving him an opportunity to say something more. When he didn’t, she gave him a tired smile and turned.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he called to her.
She waved a hand and kept going.
Rick left the hospital moments later. He needed to pray for strength to tell the truth. The fact that he had been tempted to keep quiet, to let the silence about his past continue, was unbearable.
Because he now realized that Cassie cared for him. The look in her eyes, the way she’d touched him—suddenly everything was clear. She felt about him the same way he felt about her.
Not my will, but Thine, he repeated in his mind over and over again, feeling his heart crack as he drove to the church.
* * *
Cassie stood outside the hospital and drew the frosty March air into her lungs. It felt so good to finally escape the sickness and loss, to let the sunshine warm her skin.
She saw a dark-haired man bend to lift a child from a car and her heart stopped. Rick. She opened her mouth to call out, then realized it wasn’t him at all.
She laughed out loud. Rick was so much a part of her, in her mind and her heart, that she thought of him constantly. Those moments in the cafeteria—when she’d finally realized that she loved Rick as she’d never loved before—had been the start of exploring a new vision of what her future could be, a future that she’d never dreamed was possible.
Rick filled her mind and her senses, her dreams and her waking moments. He was everything a man should be: strong without being overbearing, gentle but firm when necessary, caring, committed, thoughtful. The list could go on and she’d never fully describe the man who’d come to mean the world to her.
And he cared about Noah.
Thank You for giving me this love, she prayed as she walked toward her car in the staff parking lot. Please help me now.
She needed help because she was going to tell Rick how she felt. She was going to bare her heart to him and trust that he returned her love, that God would work it out.
Cassie kept a steady stream of prayers flowing as she unplugged her car’s block heater, then sat inside and waited for the engine to warm up. Doubts crept in, making her wonder if today was the right day, if this was the right time, if Rick would reject her. But Cassie resolutely pushed away her uncertainties and recited verses she’d memorized, verses designed to build her trust in God.
As she did, an idea flickered through her mind. So often she asked God for things, just as Noah often asked her. Before the flu epidemic, he’d pestered her about taking boxing lessons. Cassie had staunchly refused. She’d attended a boxing match once with Eric and had been appalled, so she’d remained adamantly against her son being subjected to such violence.
Did God feel the same when He refused things His children pleaded for, things He knew would be detrimental to them? He was her heavenly Father, He loved and cared for her. Sometimes He said no to her requests because He knew what was best.
Wouldn’t God, like any other parent, appreciate being thanked?
Enter into His gates with thanksgiving and a thanks offering, and into His courts with praise! Be thankful and say so to Him, bless and affectionately praise His name.
When was the last time she’d thanked God for anything?
With a grimace, Cassie shoved a CD in the player and let the heart-lifting melodies soak in. After ten minutes, immensely cheered by her private worship service and with the car giving off a toasty heat, she pulled out of her parking spot.
As she drove to Rick’s home, she couldn’t help noticing the brilliance of the sun. The days were longer now. Easter was just two weeks away. She wondered how the choir and band were doing. Rick had said nothing about practice, probably because he didn’t want to worry her when she was so involved with her patients. But Noah had told her during their daily phone call that the group kept practicing.
Singing was the one thing she and Noah could consistently talk about without arguing.
Cassie’s mood continued to lift the closer she got to Rick’s house. It stood isolated, alone on the cliff top at the end of the street. His car was there, as well as his snowmobile, so she knew he was home.
The full realization of what she was about to do—bare her heart to this man she’d come to trust—made her pulse thrum with excitement and hope. She pulled into his drive and parked her car.
This was it.
“Be with me, Lord,” she murmured as she walked over the snow, footsteps crunching loudly in the silence of the afternoon. “Soon Rick will know how much I care for him. Please, please let him love me back.” She inhaled then pressed the doorbell.
There was a long delay. Cassie was about to press it a second time when the door was suddenly flung open.
Cassie stared at her son, standing there in some kind of unfamiliar workout clothes with boxing gloves on his hands and a helmet covering his head. She stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind her, frowning.
“Noah? What are you doing?”
“B-boxing with R-Rick.” She could hear the challenge in his voice as he told her, “We p-practice lots. Rick s-says I’m g-getting g-good.”
“Who is it, Noah?” Rick appeared behind her son, also wearing gloves. His welc
oming smile bloomed when he saw Cassie. “Hi.”
She ignored the greeting.
“You’re teaching my son to box?” she asked in disbelief. He nodded as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. “Why?”
“Because he asked me to.” Rick motioned to a chair. “Do you want to sit down? It won’t take a minute for him to change.”
“No, I don’t want to sit down.” Cassie blazed inside. “How could you do this, Rick?”
He blinked, confusion clouding his eyes. “I don’t understand—”
Furious with him, Cassie turned to her son. “What I want to know is why you specifically disobeyed me, Noah.” She held his defiant gaze. “I refused when you asked me the first time and I kept on refusing,” she reminded. “I know you heard me. So why?”
“Cassie, I didn’t know you’d forbidden it,” Rick interrupted. “I’m truly sorry. I had no idea I was going against your wishes.”
“But you didn’t bother to ask my permission, either, did you? The first time you ever mentioned boxing to Noah, I know you could see that I didn’t like the idea.” That same old wall of distrust began building inside, brick by impenetrable brick. “You should have asked me,” she said.
“D-don’t blame R-Rick!” Noah shouted.
She stared at him, shocked by the fury he directed at her.
“I n-need to d-defend myself.” Scorn filled his bitter words. “Y-You turned your b-back on m-me and everyone else. You c-closed down instead of f-fighting for what you b-believe. I’m n-not g-going to be l-like you, M-Mom.”
“How can you say that?” Bewildered, Cassie could only stare at the son she would gladly give her life for. “Your father—”
“D-dad would n-never have let people diss us l-like you d-did. You g-gave them b-back their m-money, but they k-kept on s-saying we s-stole it and y-you l-let them. You d-didn’t s-stand up for us. Y-You didn’t s-stand up for me.” Tears welled but he dashed them away angrily. “Y-you didn’t even n-notice what I w-was going through.”
