For Love's Sake

by Cynthia Rutledge

  It’ll be all over town that Tom stopped by. Everyone will wonder if we’re getting back together.

  Rachel’s heart clenched at the thought. It had been hard enough facing the questioning looks when they’d broken up the second time. His coming by tonight would only fuel the gossip mill and stir things up again.

  “I don’t want to be rude,” Rachel said, “but I’ve made my feelings perfectly clear. I don’t understand why you’re here.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” Tom gestured with his head toward the front door. “Can I come in for a minute?”

  Rachel folded her arms across her chest. “Why don’t you just tell me here?”

  His gaze darted in the direction of the house across the street. “I’d prefer we had this conversation in private.”

  Though she didn’t want to give him any encouragement, Rachel couldn’t help but smile. “She’s probably already on her phone reporting your visit.”

  “Odds are we’ll be the featured topic at garden club this week.” Tom shook his head, a rueful smile lifting his lips. “Remember that time that I brought you home—”

  “—and we caught her hiding in the bushes,” Rachel finished the sentence and they both laughed.

  “We’ve had some good times,” Tom said.

  Rachel’s smile faded. “And some not-so-good ones.”

  He quickly sobered. “That was all my fault. If I—”

  Rachel raised a hand. “There’s no point in rehashing the past.”

  “There is a point.” Tom must have seen the denial in her gaze because he continued without giving her a chance to speak. “Five minutes is all I need, Rachel. I promise, after five minutes if you want me to leave, I will.”

  Rachel’s first impulse was to tell him to go now, yet a tiny voice inside her head reminded her that she’d recently given him three months of her life—surely she could spare a few moments to hear what was on his mind. She lifted a hand, fingers splayed. “Five minutes. That’s all.”

  He nodded. “Agreed.”

  Tom held the screen while she unlocked the front door. She pushed it open and he followed her inside. Dropping her bag on the floor next to the living room sofa, she gestured to a chair.

  “Aren’t you going to offer me a soda?” Tom’s lighthearted tone sounded forced.

  “You won’t be here long enough to drink it,” Rachel said bluntly, determined not to be swayed by his charm.

  “Good point.” Tom smiled and took a seat.

  Rachel sat on the corner of the couch, next to the chair. She fixed her gaze on him. “What did you want to tell me?”

  He ran his tongue over his lips and nervously brushed a piece of lint from his sleeve. “I called Dr. Peters this morning.”

  Whatever Rachel had expected, it wasn’t this. She lifted a brow. “Really? I thought you told me you didn’t need anyone telling you what to do.”

  Tom raked a hand through his hair and the brief smile he shot her didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was a fool. Your telling me it was over hit me hard, Rach, real hard.”

  Rachel stared, the irony of the words not lost on her. “Funny, I thought it was you who hit me hard, Tom.”

  He opened his mouth to speak but she continued without missing a beat.

  “And let’s not forget the fact that you swore on your grandmother’s Bible that you’d never do it again, but you did. Forgive me if I don’t feel a lot of sympathy for how hard this has all been on you.”

  “I know,” he said quickly. “I just meant that we had a good thing going and, given a little time, I could see it developing into something permanent. That’s why when you told me we were finished, I knew I had to do something about my problem.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t have a problem.” Normally Rachel didn’t like to play hardball, but she’d had it with excuses and empty promises.

  “I realized I was wrong,” Tom said. “That’s why I called Dr. Peters and made an appointment. He’d had a last-minute cancellation and I went to see him today.”

  Tom had been so resistant to seeking help that the news that he’d actually seen a psychologist left Rachel momentarily speechless.

  “You did?” she said, when she finally found her voice.

  He nodded.

  “What did he say?” Rachel asked.

  “He thinks he can help me.” Tom met her gaze. “And I told him I sure hope so, because my future happiness depends on it.”

  Before Rachel could ask him what he meant, he started talking. Only this time the words tumbled out, one right after the other, as if he were afraid she might interrupt before he could get them all out.

  “I’m going to meet with him every week,” Tom said. “And whatever he asks me to do, I will. But it would make such a difference to have your support while I work through this. After all, I’m not just doing this for me, I’m doing this for us.”

  “There is no more us,” Rachel reminded him.

  “There can be.” Tom leaned forward and took her hand. “All you have to do is give me one more chance.”

  Chapter Eight

  Once Tom left, Rachel paced the house, her mind a muddled mass of confusion. She’d meant it when she’d told him they were finished, but that was when he was still denying he had a problem and refusing to get help. Now, he’d actually taken that first step toward getting better. Could she turn her back on him?

  If her mother were in town, she’d talk to her, but Mary had bronchitis and the baby was colicky. Her mother had her hands full.

  After going round and round, Rachel ended up on the doorstep of one of her best friends. Dottie Douglas, a full-time mother to two-year-old Zach and the wife of the owner of the town’s only hardware store, was sweet but capable of speaking her mind if she thought you were headed down the wrong path.

  When Rachel had shown up on Dottie’s doorstep, her friend had taken one look at her face, gestured for her to take a seat on the porch swing and disappeared into the kitchen. She’d returned with a large bag of chips and two sodas.

  “I’m sorry to mess up your evening but I really needed to talk.” Rachel smiled apologetically.

  “Don’t give it a second thought.” Dottie waved a dismissive hand. “John works every Wednesday night and Zach is spending the week with his grandparents in Denver. Besides, having a friend over is a good excuse to bring out the snacks.”

  Rachel smiled and thanked God for wonderful friends.

  Dottie held out the bag and jiggled it enticingly. “Want some?”

  Rachel shook her head. Though the brand was her favorite, the way her stomach was churning, she didn’t think she’d be able to keep them down.

  Surprise flickered in the chunky brunette’s eyes. The bag dropped to her lap. “This must be serious if you’re turning down junk food.”

  “What would you say if I told you I’m considering getting back together with Tom?” Rachel blurted out.

  Dottie froze, a chip suspended in midair. After a moment, she lowered her hand to her lap and visibly swallowed. Dottie shifted in her seat and the slats of the wooden swing creaked.

  “I know how much you like him,” Dottie said finally.

  “But?”

  “He hurt you, Rachel.” Dottie’s plump cheeks flushed bright pink. “And I’m afraid, given the opportunity, he’ll hurt you again.”

  “He’s getting help.” Rachel surprised herself by rising to Tom’s defense. “All he’s asking is for a second chance.”

  “If I recall, he’s already had that,” Dottie said. “He promised you after that first time it would never happen again, but a month later it did.”

  “You’re right,” Rachel said, “but now he realizes he has a problem and needs help.”

  “Does he?” Dottie lifted a brow and turned in the swing to face Rachel, skepticism blanketing her face. “Or is this just a ploy to get you back?”

  Rachel couldn’t deny that same thought had crossed her mind, especially when she’d quizzed To
m about what he and the psychologist had talked about and Iowa football had seemed to be a main topic. Of course, she’d told herself, the counselor may have been just trying to put Tom at ease since it was the first time they’d met.

  “I don’t know, Dot.” Rachel sighed and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “He could be just playing games, but he seemed sincere. Do you know he got tears in his eyes when I told him I’d have to think about it?”

  Dottie raised the chip to her mouth and bit into it with a loud crunch. “Of course he did. He knows you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and he blew it.”

  “We were so good together,” Rachel said softly. “He was everything I ever wanted in a man.”

  Dottie tilted her head and stared at Rachel as if she’d suddenly grown horns. “You wanted a man who hit you?”

  Rachel could feel her face warm. “Of course not. I just meant—”

  “That’s the bottom line, Rachel,” Dottie said. “I realize he’s wealthy, but money doesn’t buy happiness.”

  “Money has never been a factor.” Rachel couldn’t keep the indignation from her voice. Though she and Dottie had only grown close the last couple of years, she’d thought her friend knew her better than that.

  “I’m not talking his family’s fortune,” Dottie said in a calming manner. “I’m just saying that being financially comfortable is part of what makes him so attractive. Since he doesn’t really have to earn a living or build a career, he can afford to spend a lot of time with you.”

  Rachel flushed, realizing there was some truth in what Dottie said. Still…

  “You make me sound like some pathetic, needy creature.” Rachel couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice. “Is that really what you think of me?”

  “Of course not.” Dottie’s hand closed around Rachel’s arm. “I only meant that it was easy for him to be the man you wanted.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing.” Dottie shrugged. “I’m just not sure it’s sincere.”

  A sick feeling filled the pit of Rachel’s stomach.

  “My mother used to say that actions speak louder than words,” Dottie added.

  “Are you saying Tom lies?”

  “Well, we both know he lied to you about at least one thing.”

  Rachel pulled her brows together. “He did?”

  “He said he’d never hit you again, didn’t he?”

  Chapter Nine

  While driving to Bible study on Thursday night, Rachel couldn’t help but remember the other times she’d been at Jocelyn and Adam Wingate’s home. When she’d been dating Tom, the two couples had grilled out several times on the Wingate’s large patio. Rachel had dreamed of one day doing similar family activities as Tom’s wife.

  Though Rachel had known it was probably not very Christianlike, she’d prayed on the way over that Tom would skip Bible study. She had a lot of hard thinking to do and she didn’t want to see him until she’d made her decision.

  But the minute she turned the corner, her heart sank. Tom’s black BMW, freshly washed and waxed, sat in the driveway. For a moment, Rachel was tempted to drive on past.

  After all, she hadn’t missed Bible study in over a year and she went to church every week. Surely God would understand….

  But as her car approached the front of the two-story house, she found herself easing the vehicle toward the curb. Shutting off the ignition, Rachel pocketed the keys.

  Rachel had barely reached the front steps when the door swung open.

  Pastor Tony stood in the doorway looking incredibly handsome and very unministerlike in a pair of khaki pants and a button-down shirt. “I thought I heard a car drive up.”

  His friendly smile enveloped her in its warmth, but Rachel sensed an undercurrent of concern when his gaze settled on her.

  Rachel scanned the foyer. “Where’s Jocelyn?”

  “In the kitchen,” Tony said, “frosting a red cake.”

  His dubious tone made Rachel smile, but she knew that it would only take one taste of the chocolate concoction for him to be a convert.

  “I’ll see if she needs help,” Rachel said, but before she could take a step, Tony’s hand closed around her forearm, stopping her.

  “Tom’s here,” he said.

  Rachel nodded. “I saw his car.”

  “How are things between you?”

  Rachel wasn’t sure what the minister was asking, but she answered honestly. “He told me he’s started seeing a counselor. He wants us to get back together.”

  Tony’s dark eyes met hers. “And what do you want?”

  “I’m not sure,” Rachel admitted. She was starting to wonder if she wanted marriage more than she wanted Tom, but she saw no need to tell the minister that. She’d already asked God for His guidance and some direction on the way she should go, but so far she hadn’t gotten any sign. “I told him I needed some time.”

  Relief flickered across Tony’s face.

  Rachel frowned. “You look surprised. Did Tom say something different?”

  Tony looped his arm companionably about her shoulders and lowered his voice. “He said the two of you were getting married.”

  “Married?” Rachel’s voice rose. She hadn’t even agreed to date him again, much less marry him. Still, she reminded herself that it was possible the minister had misunderstood. Perhaps Tom had merely said he hoped they’d be getting married.

  “Hello, sweetheart.” Tom stood in the doorway and smiled broadly. “I’ve told everyone the good news.”

  The smug smile on his face told her all she needed to know. Tony hadn’t misunderstood. Tom had lied. Again.

  Rachel reached behind her and opened the door leading outside. She smiled at the minister. “Could you tell everyone to just go ahead and start without us? Tom and I have something to discuss. Outside.”

  In her parents’ home, her father had insisted that all the walls be white. The first thing Rachel had done after buying her tiny bungalow had been to paint every room a different color. For her bedroom, she’d chosen a soothing lavender that matched the threads running through her grandmother’s quilt.

  The tastefully decorated room was her refuge, a place where she could relax and let the cares of the day slip away. But tonight nothing could loosen the tightness in her shoulders.

  She quickly changed her clothes and headed for the kitchen. Telling Tom that what they had was over had been surprisingly easy. The attempt to manipulate the situation had been the final straw and anger had fueled her words.

  Rachel was glad they had been outside. Tom hadn’t taken it well. When he’d realized she was serious, the conversation had turned ugly. He’d accused her of everything from playing games to being frigid.

  Somehow she’d managed to keep her cool, even going back into the house to say goodbye and clarify to her friends that there wasn’t going to be any wedding.

  On the drive home, it struck Rachel that she was going to miss the idea of having a husband and family of her own a whole lot more than she was going to miss Tom.

  She opened the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a chamomile tea bag. In only minutes the water was hot and the tea steeping.

  Where did I go wrong, God? Rachel cupped her hands around the mug and lifted her eyes heavenward. Why can everyone else seem to find someone to love and I can’t?

  Though Tom had a lot of wonderful qualities, he wasn’t the man for her. Even if he could learn to control his anger, he was in many ways as controlling as her father. Trying to take the decision out of her hands by telling everyone they were getting married had told her that much.

  And then when she’d confronted him, the words he’d thrown at her had cut to the core. Frigid? He’d always said he supported her decision not to sleep with any man other than her husband. And to accuse her of playing games had been so off-the-wall she should have laughed. But the fact that she’d never really known him made her want to cry instead.

  Her gaze drifted to the vase of spider mums
and despair washed over her.

  She was never going to be a wife. Never going to be a mother. Never going to have the kind of life she wanted.

  Rachel took a sip of tea. It was still too hot, but she almost relished the scalding sensation against her tongue.

  She brushed aside the self-pitying tears and lifted her chin. God obviously had other plans for her life. All she had to do was stay the course and have faith that He knew best.

  She’d just picked up her Bible when the phone rang. Rachel sighed and set the Book aside, promising herself she’d read a few of her favorite passages before bedtime.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, honey.”

  Rachel recognized her mother’s voice immediately. “What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight. How’s everything in K.C.? How are Mary and the baby?”

  “They’re fine,” her mother said. “They’re out at a church function. She and John asked me to go with them, but I thought it’d be best if they and the children went as a family.”

  Rachel’s heart twisted. Though she was happy for her sister, she couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. Mary had gotten it all: beauty, brains and a wonderful family.

  “I’m happy everything is going so well.”

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Concern filled her mother’s voice.

  Although Rachel had done her best to project a cheery tone, she wasn’t surprised her mother had been able to see through it. Her mother often knew what Rachel was feeling before she’d known it herself.

  “Tom and I are through,” she said.

  “I knew that,” her mother said. “You told me last week. Remember?”

  “Yeah, well…” Rachel paused. “Tom started seeing a counselor. He asked for another chance but I said no.”

  “I can’t believe he had the nerve…” Her mother’s voice rose but she stopped, and when she spoke again her tone was soft and controlled. “You’re better off without him.”