Love Finds You in Branson, Missouri

by Gwen Ford Faulkenberry

  “I knew you would get it.”

  He led her down the flagstone path he had laid from his porch to the water. When they reached the dock, she scampered ahead of him and flung off her shoes, sitting down on the edge and sticking her toes in the water. Will followed, leaning back on his palms beside her.

  “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  “You are so direct, you know that?” When Will smiled, Ellie noticed there were no more clouds in the sky.

  “It’s inherited.”

  “It’s disarming sometimes.”

  “I want to know what you’re thinking about.” Ellie turned her face totally toward him.

  Will’s green eyes smoldered, and his voice was husky. “I’m thinking about you, Ellie. I’m thinking about how right it feels to have you here. I’m thinking about how much I want to be with you and give to you—”

  She touched his face with the tips of her fingers, moving closer to him and kissing him gently on the lips. Then he slid his arm around her, cradling her to him, and kissed her more firmly, entering her mouth with his tongue. In that moment Ellie felt something open within her. She wanted to receive him—to taste and embrace all that he was. She urged him to scoot backward just a bit, climbing onto his lap and facing him. Throwing his arms around her, he hugged her and buried his face in her chest. She wound waves of his hair around her fingers and caressed the nape of his neck. Then Will lay back on the wooden planks of the dock, bringing her with him. He smoothed her hair as it fell forward, and stroked her face with the back of his hand.

  For a fraction of a second the universe seemed to stand still, and Ellie and Will looked into each other’s eyes. Plunging deeper than she ever had before, Ellie thought that she had never seen such…dare she think it? Love. Will was correct that it felt right for her to be there. In that instant, everything felt more right to Ellie than it ever had in her life. She reached for the button—only the bottom one was buttoned—of his polo shirt.

  “Stop.”

  The word was a whisper. Ellie glanced from the button she was holding back to Will’s eyes. They were closed. His hand—the hand that seconds ago had been on her face—was now holding hers, the one on the button, tightly, as if to keep it still. Her hand felt like a captive bird. She wriggled her fingers, and Will set it free. Ellie moved wordlessly from where she was and lay down on her back beside Will. They were not touching.

  Ellie’s face—her whole body—was on fire. She swallowed hard to suppress a scream, feeling it rise with the bile in her throat. What just happened? She felt confused, rejected, in need of an explanation. But, most of all, she felt ashamed. It was as though her directness—her assertiveness—had somehow offended Will’s sensibilities. Her heart sank like lead, pinning her to the dock. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to get up and leave. But she also wanted to cry. She closed her eyes to force back the tears, and then opened them again, fixing her gaze on a clear patch of sky.

  After what seemed like hours, Will finally spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  His voice sounded pained, but Ellie didn’t care. He was confusing the heck out of her. “Sorry for what?”

  “I almost blew it.”

  Ellie sat up, glaring down at him. “Will, what are you talking about?” She hugged her knees to her chest and stared out over the water.

  Will sat up beside her and tried to take her hand.

  She shrugged him off. “You’ve been acting a little weird…sort of, I don’t know, distant. But then I thought everything was fine, and you say how right we are together. You pull me to you and then you push me away. Then you say you’re sorry and how you almost blew it. I don’t have a clue what your problem is. I feel like you’re talking to me from the other side of the Grand Canyon. Maybe you are.”

  Will looked her in the eyes. “Ellie, please forgive me.”

  “For what? Resisting my advances? I know I’m too direct.” She blew out an exasperated sigh.

  Will did something that shocked her then. He laid his head back and laughed—loudly.

  “You’re laughing at me.”

  He laughed louder, holding his stomach.

  “You’re such a jerk. I’m leaving.” Ellie started to rise, and Will reached out to stop her. She shook his hand off her arm like it was an insipid bug but sat back down. She focused on a groove in the wood.

  “Ellie, you never cease to amaze me.”

  She raised a wary eyebrow.

  “Don’t you know, girl, how much I want you? More than I’ve wanted anything else in my entire life.”

  The vise around Ellie’s heart started to loosen. An unexpected tear rolled down her face.

  Will wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. “Oh, no, please don’t cry. I can’t stand it that I’ve made you cry.”

  Another tear dropped from her eyes, and another. And another.

  “God, forgive me. Ellie, I’m so sorry. I am a jerk.”

  She viewed him through her tears—it was like seeing through old glass. “Explain yourself.”

  “Okay.” Will swallowed hard. “After the last time we were together, I felt convicted. You’re so beautiful—so amazing—I am so attracted to you.”

  “That’s a lot of sos.”

  “I know…right. So anyway—” Will let out a long sigh that was more like a groan. He turned his body to totally face Ellie and motioned for her to face him. “I. Want. You. When you asked me what I was thinking about, there was so much more I needed to tell you. But all I could think was how great it feels to have you here with me, and how much I want to be with you and give to you. And how much I want to make love to you.”

  “I want you too, like I have wanted no other.” Ellie looked away. “So why did you stop?”

  “Because I want to do it right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I believe we should wait.”

  “Like until we’re married?”

  “Yes.”

  Ellie blinked her eyes. “Oh.”

  Will moved closer and took her hand. He told her about his talk with Sam and more about his growing relationship with Jesus and how he was getting free from the past. He also told her he believed God had brought them together, that she was a treasure and a gift.

  And then he ran up to the cabin and came back with his Bible. He read to her from Ephesians about how Christ loves the church. “And here’s the deal, Ellie. Here’s what got me. Listen. Jesus loves us like a husband loves his bride. And He gave His life so He can present her to God holy and blameless, without spot or wrinkle.3 After searching it out, I believe that’s the way He wants me to be toward you. Not to take from you, but to protect you and give up my desires for your good. To keep our relationship sacred and learn to love you—heart and soul—before the physical stuff. I made a promise to God I would do that, just yesterday. And I almost blew it already!”

  Ellie sat still, letting Will’s words sink into her soul. “This is definitely a new one.”

  “Not having sex till marriage?”

  “No, not exactly. I did grow up in church.” She cut her eyes at him. “What’s new is having the guy be the one to enforce it.”

  Will grimaced. “That’s unfortunately new to me too. And believe me, it’s not what I want—at least not what my body wants. But in my spirit it’s what I believe God wants. Can you help me with it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not what my body wants either.”

  “I understand that. And it would kill me, but if you don’t want to date me anymore—”

  “What exactly are the rules?”

  Will brightened. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “I already do.”

  “I’m thinking no kissing.” He seemed to shrink as he said the words.

  “No kissing? Are you a monk?”

  That produced a grin.

  “Girl, here’s the deal. You are so smokin’ hot it’s taking every ounce of strength I’ve got not to jump your bones right here and now on this dock.�
� Will ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe I’m a freak. But, like Sam says, it’s like a snowball rolling down a hill. Once we start kissing, I start to go all out of control. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself.”

  Ellie thought for a fleeting moment that maybe he was a freak. This was certainly a radical concept. But the heart of it was what—honor? Commitment to God? She had to admit that, underneath it all, these things were what attracted her most to Will…that set him apart from anyone else.

  “Okay. I’ll try it.”

  Will’s grin spread across his face. His shoulders straightened.

  “But I have a little rule of my own.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The words I love you have become pretty cheap in my experience, both with my dad and other guys. But love is supposed to be forever. So I don’t want to hear those words from you—not ever—unless you’re ready to put a ring on my finger.”

  “I can do that.” Will held out his hand for a shake. “You’ve got a deal.”

  3. Ephesians 5:27

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Audrey DuPree paced the tiny apartment that was costing her parents dearly every month to rent for her because it was within walking distance of the law school at NYU. Her red patent heels, which she wore to make herself look taller, tapped out an allegro staccato on the ceramic tile floor. She was still dressed in the red crepe suit she’d worn to work today at Ray’s less-than-subtle suggestion. He’d sent her to the jail again, this time to interview a petty criminal they desperately needed information from. A male. She’d gotten the information.

  She stopped pacing long enough to take off the shoes and toss them down the hall in the direction of her bedroom. A bit more comfortable after that, she resumed her trek back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. Each time she passed the kitchen counter she grabbed a few M&M’S from the dish she’d placed there. When the dish was empty, she finally stopped pacing and plopped on the couch with a sigh.

  Slouched there, with her feet up on the ultra-modern black metal and glass table in front of her, Audrey mentally prioritized her concerns. For her, this was a form of prayer—laying things out between her and God. Number one, and always hanging over her head like a black cloud, was the problem of law school, her desire to quit, and the subsequent effect that would have on her family. She knew all of the Sunday school clichés about God making a way for His children, and nothing being too hard for the Lord. Yada, yada, yada.

  But at the present moment it seemed to Audrey that she’d come up against an insurmountable problem. Beyond her own sense of pride, and the horror of being labeled a “quitter,” was the fear of disappointing her father. She may have been twenty-three years old, but when it came to her dad, she still felt as young as Scout. And Atticus was Atticus. He never changed. Besides, what else was she going to do? Law was the only thing she knew.

  Second on her list of problems was the conundrum of Ellie’s father, who was also Beecher’s father, of course. Her search via Ray’s easy access to public records had turned up no less than twelve Andrew McMurrays living in New York City. Upon further examination, three of them were within the age range of Drew—Ellie and Beecher’s estranged dad. One was a bartender, one a radio DJ, and the other a history teacher at Stuyvesant. What to do with that information felt like a non-choice for Audrey. But, in her opinion, it was opening a can of worms.

  Third on her list was the related problem of Beecher. Beecher, her best friend’s brother. Beecher, the legal genius. Beecher, on whom she’d always had a crush but suppressed it following grade-school playground humiliation. Beecher, who was now single and coming to see her in New York.

  As far as problems went, the third was by far the least unpleasant. She decided to dwell on it for a while. Regardless of the fact that Beecher would never look at her romantically, he was a loyal friend. They had scads of great memories together. In fact, Audrey being an only child, Ellie was the closest thing she knew to a sister, and by default Beecher had become her brother. They knew each other like a book—a very old book you’ve read a hundred times. If she could get past his sex appeal, which she’d trained herself to do, and see him only as a friend, Audrey enjoyed Beecher’s company immensely. He was a comfort to her—as he had been lately in his e-mails. Like a favorite jacket that fits just right.

  The analogy only broke down if she considered him as anything other than a friend. Then the thought of Beecher as a jacket that fit her became a joke. Like putting Armani on a bag lady, Audrey thought. She simply couldn’t—shouldn’t—view his visit in any other light than friendship. But still, it seemed a bit odd. Ellie was always the glue that stuck Beecher to Audrey. She never thought of him in any other terms. It was a surprise to Audrey that he mentioned coming to New York without Ellie—just to see her. Of course it isn’t just to see me, Audrey reminded herself. His trip was bringing him through there. But still, they would be alone.

  God, help. Audrey rubbed her temples. Beethoven’s “Für Elise” signaled the ringing of her phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Miz Audrey?”

  “Yes. This is Audrey.”

  “This is Chuck Filson down at the Manna Soup Kitchen.”

  Audrey’s mind clicked through the files of faces she’d met over the summer. She finally placed the name with the image of a wiry, dark-haired man whose face reminded her precisely of a hamster.

  “Oh, hi. How are you, Mr. Filson?”

  “Call me Chuck.” There was a pause, apparently for effect. “Miz Audrey, the reason I’m calling is that you gave me your number. You said you might be interested in working the soup kitchen sometime, and we’ve got an emergency situation. One of the ladies who volunteers called in sick, and our backup person called in sick. Would you happen to be available this evening?”

  “Are you located in Greenwich Square?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we are.”

  “I can be there in thirty minutes.”

  “That’s perfect. We’ll see you then.”

  Audrey changed out of her red suit, grateful for the distraction. She put on a pair of army fatigues, a gray T-shirt, and a pair of clunky black lace-up boots. Locking everything up tightly, she walked the few blocks from her apartment to the soup kitchen, where a line was gathered outside.

  “Miz Audrey!” Chuck Filson was at the door, waving her in. He pumped her hand up and down. “We’re so pleased you could come.”

  He introduced her to several others who’d be assisting with the meal, which was served like a cafeteria line. Audrey’s job was to man a vat of soup the size of a small swimming pool. It was steaming hot and the scent wafting above it smelled incredibly good. Audrey licked her lips. On either side of her were a man and woman handing out bread and silverware, respectively. The other two people in the line were in charge of drinks. An identical setup mirrored theirs on the opposite side of the room.

  From the time the door was opened until the soup ran out two hours later, Audrey was busy filling bowls. Manna Ministries worked on the premise that people could pay whatever they could afford in order to eat, even if what they could afford was nothing. Audrey was astonished to see the money that collected in a simple jar near the door. The clientele ranged from NYU students to working-class families to homeless people.

  “Can I come back again?”

  Chuck Filson had just finished thanking her and shaking her hand. He smiled, and his small black eyes sparkled. “We’d be happy to have you any time.”

  “Please keep my number, and feel free to call if you’re short of help again.”

  “Will do, Miz Audrey. Will do.”

  * * * * *

  Back at her apartment, Audrey typed out an e-mail to Ellie:

  Ellis Island,

  I think I may have found my calling at last. It is far less glamorous than the famous actress you are sure to become. And it is less intellectual than the promising law student I am supposed to be. I will never make any money. But I think I co
uld be happy if I could do some kind of community outreach—maybe start my own homeless center or halfway house. There is such need here in New York, and I never would have seen it, had I not come to law school.

  How are you?

  A.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  It was the end of the first week of play practice since Ellie and Will made their “purity pact.” Opening night was drawing close, so practice had been very intense, which was more than Ellie could say for the rest of their time spent together. For dates they had intentionally gone to public places, like the ice-cream shop and the park, instead of being anywhere alone. And instead of cooking at home, they’d done a lot of eating out. For someone as private as Ellie, it was exhausting. But worth it, she supposed. They’d stood by their commitment to no kissing.

  This night, as on every other night of the week, Will had walked her to the door but not come in. He waited while she got Dot, and they went for a short walk. Then, back at her doorstep, he hugged her tightly and said good night. Watching him go, Ellie felt pain rip across her chest. She put on her comfiest pajamas and piled into the bed with Dot, hoping that reading her grandmother’s diary might help take her mind off her unrequited desire to be with Will.

  8 June 1887

  If I die tomorrow, I’ve just had the best two days of my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but it is no exaggeration. I never knew life could be so wonderful, or that I could be so happy.

  Uncle Robert had business in Springfield, and he took Aunt Liesel and Mother along. They left early yesterday morning and made plans to spend the night, returning today midafternoon. Heidi and I were to stay here and look after the place.

  We saw them off before tending to the breakfast dishes and other morning chores. Mother looked grand in her nice dress and bonnet sitting beside Aunt Liesel. I was excited for Mother, especially, to get out and have a good time. She misses Papa and home excruciatingly; Heidi and I can read it on her face. Though it is comfortable here and our relatives are kind, I think it is hard for Mother to be in Aunt Liesel’s shadow. She is used to being the mistress of her own house. I feel a bit guilty in writing this, and feeling as I do, but it can’t be helped. It is ironic that while she seems displaced, I am finding out where I truly belong.