by Lois Richer
Noah shot her a dark look, but did as she asked. Cassie closed the door, suddenly overwhelmed. Tears that could not be suppressed rose in a great tide of sadness and she let them fall, unable to stem her sobs. “Mom?” Noah gazed at her uncertainly. “D-don’t cry, Mom.”
The tears kept flowing. “All I wanted when I decided to move us here was for you to be happy. But you’re not. I’ve done everything wrong.”
“No, y-you haven’t,” he said.
“Then how do you explain the fact that you’ve been hurting other people intentionally, Noah?” she demanded, dashing away the tears from her cheeks. “The worst thing is, you hurt them to make yourself feel better. Do you realize you could be sent to jail, just like the boys at Lives have?”
“It’s m-my fault.” Noah closed his eyes. “I kn-know it d-doesn’t h-help now, b-but I’m r-really sorry, Mom.”
“Why are you sorry?” she demanded, afraid to believe in him.
“I d-didn’t realize what I was doing t-to you and to R-Rick.” Shame suffused his face and he looked down at the floor. “I n-never meant t-to hurt him. I n-never realized—” He choked up. Several moments passed before he could speak again. “H-He’s always been g-good to me. I d-didn’t think—”
“That’s the thing, isn’t it?” Cassie said. “You didn’t think how your actions would affect Rick or anyone else, including me.”
“Y-You?” He frowned.
“Think about it. What happens if you get into trouble? Do you think the government will want the mother of a kid with a criminal record working with troubled kids?”
Shock covered his face. “I d-didn’t—”
“Think that far ahead? Everything we do in this life has ramifications, Noah. You throw a stone and the ripples spread out far and wide.” She closed her eyes. “I thought you were mature enough to realize that, especially after what happened when your father died. I guess I was wrong.”
Noah sat down on the side of the bed as if a heavy responsibility weighed him down. “I’m s-so sorry,” he whispered. “I was angry b-because you didn’t treat me like the m-man of the family, but I d-don’t deserve that. I was s-stupid.”
“Nobody gets everything they want in life,” Cassie said, the sourness she felt inside tingeing her voice. “We all have to deal with hard things.”
“L-like you l-loving Rick?” he asked very quietly.
“What do you know about that?” she asked him, startled.
“I can see it wh-when you look at him,” Noah said in a soft tone. “And when he l-looks at you.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about it now, Noah,” she said, pressing down the surge of sadness as she accepted the truth. “Nothing’s going to change.”
“Because Rick m-made a vow,” Noah said with a nod. “He t-told me about it. He s-said he has to pay for his p-past. I think th-that’s wrong.”
“Wrong?” Cassie frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“Rick’s always t-talking about f-forgiveness, how God forgives our s-sins and remembers them n-no more. He s-said that’s what Easter’s all a-about.” He shrugged. “If G-God doesn’t r-remember them, why would He w-want Rick to pay for them?”
Cassie stared at him, stung by the wisdom in the words that had come out of her young son’s mouth. A smile took over her face and she tentatively put an arm around him. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t flinch away.
“That is an excellent question, Noah.”
A question Pastor Rick should have to answer.
* * *
His last days in Churchill slipped away from Rick like a skate blade across the glinting ice of Hudson Bay. Though it was late March, he found the still-wintry days dreary as he never had before.
He’d replayed his last conversation with Cassie a hundred times, but no matter how he wished otherwise, he’d had no choice. He’d had to push her away, even though it had cost him dearly. What puzzled him was that Cassie seemed to hold no grudge. She’d never said anything about that day when she came to the church on Sundays with Noah, or to choir practice.
Rick hadn’t asked her to continue playing for them. She’d simply appeared and waited for his cue. It seemed to him that the kids were suddenly hitting each note exactly as he’d hoped, that they raised their voices in praise and worship as if they now fully grasped the meaning of Easter. For that he was grateful.
But rehearsal was bittersweet torture to Rick as he counted down each precious moment he had left with Cassie. He repeatedly reminded himself that God had brought him here, but that didn’t mean God had brought him to Churchill to be with Cassie. It puzzled Rick that God would intentionally put him on this course when He knew Rick would fall for her. But at the same time, the joy he found in seeing her beautiful smile, in hearing her encourage the kids, in sharing a glance that said she still cared for him—that left him breathless.
He wouldn’t have traded those moments for the world.
And yet always, always, he faced the knowledge that he must leave here, leave her. Cassie’s life would go on. She’d find someone else to love, to share her future with. She was too special for some other guy not to notice her. He wanted that for her.
But he would be alone. It was the way it had to be.
* * *
“Are you g-going to see Rick?” Noah asked, staring at Kyle.
“Yeah. He seems down lately.” Kyle gave him a grin and grabbed the door.
“Wait. I need to t-tell you something.” Noah summoned his courage. He had to fix things. “Rick l-loves my mom, you know.”
“I kind of guessed.” Kyle frowned. ‘How does your mom feel?”
“She loves h-him, too, but Rick did something that hurt my g-grandpa.” Noah felt his face get hot, but he didn’t stop. “I know I shouldn’t have d-done it, but I was listening at his d-door and I heard him m-make a reservation on the t-train. I’m pretty sure h-he thinks the only way to make it better is to leave. I don’t want him to d-do that. Nobody d-does.” He peered at Kyle through the falling snow. “Can y-you do s-something?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to try.” Kyle slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for telling me.”
“I w-want my m-mom to be happy. She w-won’t be if Rick g-goes away.”
“Got it.” Kyle went inside.
“What were you saying to Kyle?” his mom asked as he climbed into her car.
“Just man t-talk.” Noah spent the ride home praying.
* * *
“Rick?” Kyle stood in the now-empty sanctuary, peering at him with a puzzled look. “What are you doing?”
“Where is everyone?” Rick glanced around, realizing that while he’d been daydreaming, everyone had left.
“Gone home for dinner. Wanna share a pizza? Sara’s at a baby shower.” Kyle waited, his frown growing when Rick just stared at him. “You okay?”
The yearning to see Cassie, to hold her and tell her that he’d never love anyone as he loved her—all of it screamed at him to forsake his vow. He could feel the temptation to relinquish his faith, to abandon it and let himself revel in the love he felt for her.
“Thinking about Cassie?” Kyle asked in a knowing tone.
“You know?” Relief filled him. Rick poured out the whole ugly story. “I don’t see a way out of this, buddy. I think I have to leave this place.”
“Not so fast. I think we need to pray about that decision. How about if I lead off?” Kyle offered.
“I’d like that.” He knelt with his friend and recommitted his life to God
Then Kyle insisted it was time to eat.
Rick went with him, but he wasn’t hungry. All he could think about was the question that kept rattling through his brain. If loving Cassie was wrong, why didn’t God take his feelings away?
Chapter Fourteen
On Good Friday Cassie went to church.
Rick had invited missionaries from Burma to speak in the morning. After sharing a lunch of soup and sandwiches to commemorate the Last Supper, he led them in a solemn foot-washing ceremony.
Cassie’s heart swelled with pride for this man of God. She watched him humbly wash the feet of old and young alike, drawing their focus to the meaningful action Jesus had done, knowing he was to die. With tenderness and quiet respect Rick moved through the small group, his eyes glowing as he ministered. When he came to her, Cassie felt a jolt of response to his touch but Rick seemed unaffected as he poured warm water over her feet into the basin.
“‘My protection and success come from God alone,’” he murmured as he dried her feet on a towel. “‘He is my refuge, a Rock where no enemy can reach me. O my people, trust him all the time. Pour out your longings before him for he can help.’”
His head lifted as he finished speaking and for one timeless moment their eyes met. Cassie saw a tender, gentle love in his gaze. How she ached to respond, to reach out and embrace him, willing him to forget everything but caring for her.
For a moment she thought he would. But then he closed his eyes and, without looking at her again, moved on to the person beside her.
Why God? her soul cried. He loves me. I know he does. And I love him. Is that wrong?
“Your will be done,” she heard Rick say.
Us loving each other—that’s not Your will? Tears slipped between her lashes. I can’t have him, can I?
A soft rush of certainty filled her. God was saying no. Oh, how that hurt. She took deep breaths then dabbed at the wetness on her cheeks.
God had something for Rick to do, a mission that was more important than loving Cassie Crockett. She couldn’t stand in the way of that. Not after she’d seen his extraordinary gift for ministry. His heart was for God and he took his vow seriously. She could not diminish his dedication by asking him to break that vow.
She didn’t think she could turn her back on the joy and the rightness of being with him. But as Rick stood in their circle, reminding them of how much God had sacrificed to have each of them as His child, Cassie suddenly understood. She’d finally learned that no matter what happened, God came first. Somehow He would help her give up the desire of her heart if she trusted Him completely.
As one the group rose, joined hands and sang the first verse of the hymn “Old Rugged Cross.” Cassie was struck anew by the depth of Rick’s abilities. She wasn’t the only one with tears drying on her cheeks. Others in the congregation had been as deeply moved and a few, like her, lingered in the sanctuary to absorb or perhaps prolong the glory they’d experienced.
It took a long time to resolve the turmoil in her heart. Part of her longed to ignore God’s will, to grab hold of her happiness and hang on, to beg him to give up his vow. She wanted what she wanted.
And yet how much more guilt would Rick feel? Cassie couldn’t do that to him. For Rick’s sake, she released everything into God’s hands. It would cost her dearly when she saw him and heard his voice, and when her heart argued that she had a right to happiness.
But she had a right to nothing. She’d given up the right to run her life the way she wanted when she’d renewed her faith and trusted God.
It had to be complete trust.
She gazed at the mural of the good shepherd on the wall. It had been painted many years before. The colors were faded and worn except for the eyes. Dark brown, gentle and beckoning, she stared into them and at last found the peace she craved.
He’s yours, Lord. Soft and tentative, peace flowed over her soul. She wiped away her tears. “Your will,” she murmured at last.
She rose and walked to the exit, but earnest voices stopped her from leaving. Rick was standing in the foyer, talking to George Stern, who looked upset.
“I’m tendering my resignation, George. Effective immediately.” Rick’s words hit her with a decimating force. “I’ll be leaving Churchill Tuesday morning.”
The moment she heard the words, Cassie knew two things instantly and with a certainty that filled her soul. First, this was where God wanted Rick. Churchill needed his love and understanding and patience. This town was his ministry.
And, second, he was resigning because of her, because she was causing him to struggle against the vow he’d made. The weight of it almost crushed her.
Rick could not leave. Churchill was where he belonged.
So she’d have to go.
She’d talk to Laurel and resign. They could find someone to replace her.
But who could replace Rick?
Cassie waited until the two men left. Then she made a beeline for her car. Her dad was arriving tomorrow on the train. She’d tell him her decision, she decided as she drove back to Lives. Maybe after they cleared the air once and for all, she and Noah could go back to Toronto and live with him. It wouldn’t be easy on Noah, but she knew he’d understand if she told him about Rick’s resignation.
She pulled into the yard and took a good look at what made up Lives Under Construction. But the exterior, the skating rink, the shed—that wasn’t the essence of the project. What mattered were the lives inside, boys who needed a man like Rick to guide them into their future.
Your will be done. With resolute determination Cassie left the car and walked into the house. “Laurel?”
“In the kitchen.” Her friend greeted her with a smile that quickly faded when she saw Cassie’s face. “What?”
“I have to resign, Laurel. Noah and I have to leave.” Then, despite her best intentions, she broke down. Weeping, she explained what had happened.
Laurel listened, but she didn’t try to talk Cassie out of her plans. Cassie knew that was because Laurel understood that Rick’s presence in Churchill was a necessity. Anyone could nurse a sick boy, but not everyone could be the spiritual leader these kids needed to rebuild their lives.
God needed Rick in Churchill, not Cassie.
It was time to go.
* * *
“Dad!” Cassie threw her arms around her father’s neck and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Me, too, honey.” He squeezed her and brushed a kiss against her hair. “Where’s my grandson?”
“Hey, G-grandpa.” Noah rolled his eyes at Cassie as the older man hugged him, but he said nothing, clearly happy to be reunited.
Cassie drove them back to Lives, bubbling with excitement as she and her dad caught up. Noah pointed out landmarks. Once they’d arrived, she introduced her father and they gathered to eat lunch. When it was over, the moment she’d been waiting for finally arrived.
“Can we talk, Dad?” she asked.
“It’s about time, don’t you think? I need to apologize to you for not supporting you enough after Eric’s death.”
“I understand now why you couldn’t.” She clutched his hand in hers. “But why didn’t you tell me?”
“Shame. Embarrassment. Maybe some anger.” He shook his head. “What kind of father doesn’t have enough money put aside to help his own daughter? I felt like a failure.”
“Because Rick lost your money,” she said.
“He told you.” John sighed.
“Yes. Dad.” She hesitated. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Cassie. I earn a good salary teaching at the seminary. I don’t have a lot of expenses and the government sends me a pension check every month. If you need to borrow—”
“No, no. I was going to lend you some.” They grinned at each other.
“Rick’s a great guy, isn’t he?”
“You can say that after what he did?” Cassie said.
“I was mad at him at the time, but I always knew he was a risk taker.” He chuckled. “Rick is the son I never had. Just like I’ve
always prayed for you, I’ve prayed for him for so many years. I believe God sent him to me to help and I tried my best.” Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Cassie, I’ve sensed something in your letters. You care for Rick, don’t you?”
“I love him.” She wasn’t afraid to say it anymore. “It’s because of Rick that I learned to trust God.” She explained about her decision to leave Churchill.
“You’ll live with me.” John studied her. “How does Rick feel about you?”
Cassie explained her belief that he loved her.
“He gave his resignation—that’s why Noah and I have to move. Rick belongs here, Dad. This place is his ministry, just like yours was always in Toronto. I can’t let him give it up for me.”
“So he’s still determined to keep that vow.” John’s eyes narrowed. “I brought his guitar. I think I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow,” he said thoughtfully.
“I love you, Dad.” She nestled in his arms, praying that somehow God would help her father help Rick.
* * *
“It’s so good to see you, John.” Rick held his office door wide, then embraced the stooped, gray-haired man who seemed to have aged twenty years since he’d last seen him. Obviously the result of losing his life’s savings. He pushed the thought aside. “I’m glad you came for Easter. And doubly glad to see this again.” He took the guitar from John, glad to feel the weight of the case in his hands again. “I wish Cassie hadn’t done it, but I’m glad she did.”
“She knows how important that guitar is to your ministry,” John said.
Rick asked about mutual friends and the seminary where John still taught classes, even though he was supposed to be retired. Rick tried to dodge John’s personal questions. No way did he want to discuss his feelings for his mentor’s daughter. But John was as wily as ever.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you recently, son.” John tented his hands under his chin, his face thoughtful. “The Lord keeps telling me to pray for you so you’ll see more clearly.”
“See what more clearly?” Rick asked in puzzlement.
“His love.” John leaned forward. “Or, more specifically, His forgiveness.”
