by Lois Richer
“Drew helped me. He said I have the bestest mama so she should have the bestest card.” Ella smiled, her sad face gone. “He buyed that pink ribbon for me to use on it ’cause he said you always usta like pink. He tol’ me you were really good friends.”
“Yes, we were.” Mandy tried to think of a way to avoid the questions she knew were coming but couldn’t.
“An’ you don’t argue no more ’cause you’re really good friends now, right?” Ella asked, eyes sparkling. “Drew’s helpin’ you while Auntie Bonnie and Uncle Ben get better.”
“Yes.” Mandy smoothed her hair. “And he’s coming with us to church today so we’d better get ready. Because you know what today is.”
“Uh-uh.” Ella frowned, her forehead pleated. “Mother’s Day?”
“Yes, but it’s also your favorite.” Mandy’s heart brimmed with love for this sweet child. At least God hadn’t punished her by taking Ella.
“Potluck day! Again?” Ella whooped for joy at Mandy’s nod. Then she stopped and looked at her mother very seriously. “Are we takin’ sumthin’, Mama? Everybody but us always brings sumthin’,” she reminded. “We never stay.”
“Today we’re staying. And we’re bringing a pasta salad and a whole watermelon.”
“Yummy.” Ella rushed off to get ready.
Mandy poured herself another coffee and then walked outside to sit on the step while she mulled over her latest problem.
“Why so serious?” Drew asked from the shade of a nearby tree.
“You scared the daylights out of me,” she protested, brushing spilled coffee drops off her hand.
“Sorry.” He shrugged, eyes fixated on her mug. “I’m ready to go so I thought I’d wait here for you and Ella.” His eyes widened. “Any coffee left to share?”
“Help yourself.” When he returned from getting himself a mug of java, Mandy asked, “Have you even tried to make coffee the way I told you?”
“Three pounds’ worth,” he assured her. He sat down on the step next to her and inhaled. “It never even smelled like this, let alone tasted good.”
“I think you’re pretending,” she muttered before returning to the problem that dogged her. “What are your thoughts on escorting a hike up to Cragg’s Peak?”
“Cragg’s Peak?” Drew looked thunderstruck. “I haven’t been up there for years. I’m not even sure I could handle it without some preparation. Who’s asking for a crazy excursion like that?”
“Bankers. They’ve been here before. The first time Ben took them to the caves,” she explained. “Then they heard about the bald eagles that nested here so they came a second time and made a documentary.”
“Suits,” Drew scoffed. “They’d never make it up that climb and then I’d be responsible for getting them down, possibly with injuries. No way.” He shook his head vigorously to emphasize his refusal.
“These aren’t your ordinary bankers, Drew,” Mandy murmured. “They’ve climbed all over the world, including Everest.”
“Big shots, spending their money with someone else smoothing their way.” His sarcasm dripped.
“Not true. These men specifically plan extreme excursions to raise money or to sponsor awareness to help the environment,” Mandy countered. “In this case, they hope to draw attention to a new bill that’s being proposed to open thus-far protected areas in Glacier National Park.”
Drew’s eyes widened.
“Such a bill would certainly benefit Hanging Hearts and getting Ben’s name on a promotion like that would be a huge boost to his business,” she added. “But those aren’t the only reasons.”
“I’m listening.” His dark eyes held hers as memories of past times hiking Cragg’s Peak together cascaded through her mind.
“The amount the men have offered for this trip up Cragg’s would go a long way toward paying for renovations at Bonnie and Ben’s place.” Mandy forced back a tide of longing for those happier days when life seemed fun and she felt loved. “Then perhaps your parents could come home sooner.”
“I didn’t know that was an option.” Drew looked startled.
“One of the nurses mentioned it as a possibility, but only if we can make things more manageable for them in their own home. No carpet. Doorknobs, faucets, handles must be handicap accessible, the type that they can press to open. Stuff like that.” Grateful to be talking about something they could work on together without disagreement, Mandy rose. “Also a ramp for the front door.”
“I can pay for some of that,” Drew muttered. “We don’t have to risk life and limb for some wealthy bankers to cover those costs.”
“But wouldn’t your parents love to know that their own ranch paid for whatever changes are needed?” she countered. “We don’t have to give the bankers an answer right away, but I would strongly suggest you think about it, Drew. At the moment we have space to schedule such a climb for the week Ella’s at camp, just after school’s over.”
“What’s so great about then?” He stood on the step below her, which put his eyes level with hers. His proximity made Mandy nervous.
“First, the bankers can manage that date. But it’s also preferable because I’m free then and could go along.”
“Why would you go?” He looked irritated.
“Because if I went along...” Mandy chose her next words carefully. “If there was an issue, it would be my problem to deal with, not yours.”
“You don’t trust me to handle problems.” Drew’s lips tightened.
“Not true.” Why hadn’t she just set the date and said she was going? She was the boss, after all.
“So you’re trying to get me off the hook?” Drew’s mocking smile annoyed her. “Are you insinuating I’m a wimp, Mandy?”
“No,” she denied hotly. “I’m trying to offer you a way out because I know you don’t want to take responsibility for someone else. That’s what you said,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, but—”
“I’m not going because I don’t trust you, Drew. I’d trust you on a climb anywhere, anytime.” Oops. Had she actually admitted that aloud? “But I don’t want you to feel I’m forcing you to do this.”
Drew didn’t want to be here. That much hadn’t changed. Her private fear was that if things got bad enough, he would leave. And as hard as it was to accept, she wanted him to stay, at least a little longer.
“Ever since that nurse spoke to me, I’ve been trying to devise a way to pay for the needed renovations. Escorting this group could help.” She pursed her lips, trying to focus on the point she was making and not on his handsome face. “It would help a lot.”
“I get that,” he said.
“If you paid for everything, your parents would worry about paying you back, which defeats the whole point of getting them home and comfortable so they don’t have to worry.” She held his gaze, willing him to understand. “I doubt a fund-raiser is an option. The townsfolk would love it, but—”
“Ma and Pops would hate it,” Drew agreed with a sigh. “Pride. They give to the community. They don’t take.”
“Exactly. Not from their sons either.” Mandy stuffed her hands in her pocket. “Please think it over, will you? Meanwhile, we’d better get to church.”
“Yeah.” His scrutiny suddenly intensified. “No fancy sundress and spike heels?”
“No.”
“You don’t need them,” he said with an appreciative look. “You look great no matter what you wear. I haven’t seen you with your hair up in that style for years.”
Actually, he hadn’t seen her hair in any style for years, but Mandy let it go, tucking away his compliment for later examination. She’d deliberately chosen flowing white cotton pants and a loose flowery top with flat strappy sandals because she was hoping the plainness of this outfit would erase memories of her last appearance at church.
Not that the other men’
s responses had bothered her unduly. It had been Drew’s sideways looks, when he thought she wouldn’t notice, that made her wonder if he thought she’d dressed that way specifically for him. They already tiptoed around an electric awareness of each other. Mandy didn’t want to add to that.
As for her hair, she’d wound it into a topknot because it would be cooler that way, not to induce any past memories in Drew. Hadn’t she?
Not ready to pursue that train of thought and not quite ready to leave, Mandy concentrated on her fingernails.
“Can I ask you something really personal, Mandy?” Drew’s indecipherable scrutiny set her nerves even more on edge.
“I guess.” What now?
“When you were pregnant, did you have tests that told you about Ella?” He stopped, frowned. “I mean, don’t doctors do tests ahead of time that tell them...?”
“I asked them not to tell me the gender of my ba—Ella,” Mandy said, loathe to explain anything about that time to him, yet knowing that day would surely arrive.
“Actually, I wondered if you knew before you gave birth that Ella—never mind,” he said brusquely. “Forget it. It’s none of my business.”
Then Mandy understood.
“At no time was there any indication that Ella was anything but a healthy, normal child,” Mandy told him tightly, her stomach sinking. “Her learning disabilities weren’t noticeable until around her first year.”
“Oh.” The answer seemed to satisfy Drew but thinking he might probe deeper with even more questions about that time, and desperate not to reveal her painful, guilty secret, Mandy cleared her throat.
“Time to go. I’ll get Ella.” She raced up the stairs and inside as if she was being pursued. Oh, Lord, will my mistake always haunt me? “Sweetheart, where are you?”
“Here.” Ella sat on the sofa, a book spread in her lap, a smile stretching her bow-shaped lips. “I’m reading, Mama.”
“So you are.” Tears welled in Mandy’s eyes.
Her precious child. How could Drew not want her? Before Ella could notice, Mandy made an excuse and locked herself in the bathroom, ostensibly to check her makeup.
She stared at herself in the mirror, forcing back tears as the truth slammed into her like a boulder tumbling down from the Rockies.
If Drew couldn’t get past their beautiful daughter’s imperfections, he would never be the daddy Ella so longed for.
And it was all Mandy’s fault. That was why she would never be free to love and be loved again. She’d been given that gift, and she’d ruined it.
The punishment is too heavy, God. Because I still love Drew.
* * *
After John Purdy’s class, Drew hurried outside to find Oliver and hand over Mandy’s car keys. He’d insisted he would drive her to church on Mother’s Day for a specific reason, and thankfully she hadn’t argued. Instead she’d seemed lost in some problem that dimmed her lovely eyes and left almost invisible traces of tearstains.
Drew wondered what had gone wrong, if her tears were his fault. He hated the thought that he might have hurt this generous woman who poured herself into making his parents’ ranch a success. Of course he didn’t want to hurt her because they’d once been much more than mere friends, and they now shared a bond through Ella. Drew would never be parentally involved in his daughter’s life, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see either Ella or Mandy suffering.
He returned to the sanctuary for the morning service and took the empty seat next to Mandy, ignoring Miss Partridge perched in the row behind and her knowing grin as the uplifting music called his attention to worship.
Drew had never been much for church, never felt it truly related to him. And yet in these past few weeks, he’d learned more about the nature of God and what He wanted from His creation than he’d imagined was possible to know.
According to John’s lesson this morning, God wanted love. That sounded so easy. Yet thanks to the men’s Bible study and John’s class, Drew now knew it wasn’t easy at all. Love meant giving up everything you wanted and making yourself open, vulnerable, to God’s wishes, plans and desires. For Drew, that was impossible.
Risk, vulnerability—in his work, he could calculate the odds, measure that against the value gained and decide if the risk was worth it. But with God? How could he foresee or calculate God’s odds or measure the immeasurable? Risking himself in that way would cost the thing he held most dear, self-reliance. And Drew just couldn’t put that on the line.
Mandy’s nudge made him realize the sermon was over. Everyone was standing. He quickly rose for the benediction. That’s when he noticed John walking toward him.
“Hey, Drew.” John frowned and shifted as if he was uncomfortable.
“Hey.” Confused because this confident man seldom looked uneasy, Drew stayed in place when Mandy excused herself to collect Ella. “Something wrong?”
“I don’t exactly know.” John lifted his head and stared straight at him. “I’ve never done this before, but somehow I feel compelled to say something to you.”
“Oh. Okay.” What’s this about? “Go ahead.”
“It’s a verse, actually. From Psalm 121. ‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved. He that keepeth thee will not slumber.’ I hope that helps you, Drew.”
Then, with a smile, John left.
My help cometh from the Lord.
“Drew?” Mandy, clasping Ella’s hand, frowned at him. “Are you sick? Do you not want to stay for potluck?”
“I’m fine.” John’s particular emphasis on certain words puzzled Drew. He didn’t understand what the other man meant, but there was no time to think about it now. He shoved it to the back of his mind to focus on the surprise he and Oliver had planned.
“Ella’s really excited today,” Mandy said after their daughter begged to join her friends and raced away the moment her mother agreed. “I’m sure she was yakking during children’s church. It’s not something to do with you, is it?”
“Me?” Drew shook his head. “Nope. Excuse me. I’m supposed to help serve. You’d better get in line, Mama.”
He grinned, savoring her confused expression as he walked away. Though the men of the church were in charge of this potluck, some wives, worried about their husbands’ abilities in the kitchen, had provided supermarket salads. Turned out they went perfectly with the hamburgers now being grilled. After asking a blessing on the meal, the pastor insisted mothers go first in the food line.
At the sound of Mandy’s laughter, Drew glanced up from pouring lemonade. She looked so beautiful and completely comfortable in her world as a mom. He smothered a rush of envy, knowing he’d never be comfortable being a dad.
“Man, you were supposed to let me in the back door,” Oliver grumbled in his ear.
“Sorry. I got busy. You got them here without a problem?” Drew asked anxiously.
“Of course.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “Would I mess this up?”
“Never.” Drew grinned at his friend, barely able to conceal his anticipation. It wasn’t easy to surprise Mandy, but this time he figured he and Oliver just might pull it off. “Okay. Meet you back there.”
Oliver slipped away. As unobtrusively as possible, Drew handed off his drink duties to someone else, moved to the rear of the kitchen and opened the door. Oliver had parked Bonnie’s car outside. The trunk was open, waiting. Moving as quickly as possible, they carried in their surprise and set everything on a long table to the left of the buffet line.
“Pies, gentlemen?” Of course it would be Miss Partridge who first noticed what they were doing. She scanned the array, then surveyed Oliver and Drew with raised eyebrows. “Lemon, blueberry and, if I’m not mistaken, strawberry rhubarb?”
“And two cheesecakes, Miss Partridge.” Oliver’s chest
swelled.
When they were quickly surrounded by others, Drew felt himself shutting down. He hated being the center of attention, wanted to escape. He should have thought this through.
“You two made all these pies?” someone asked in disbelief. “By yourselves?”
“Drew mostly. I just helped.” Oliver grinned and repeated it so many times, Drew began to feel annoyed at the disbelief until a voice he knew so well cut in.
“Well, if you folks want to keep looking, go ahead. Excuse me if I take mine and Ella’s now, before it’s all gone.” Mandy edged her way to the table and selected two slices of lemon pie. “Way to go, guys. What a great Mother’s Day gift for all of us.” She smiled, but her glance lingered on Drew. “Thank you very much.”
For Drew, her smile made suffering through the attention totally worth it. Normal chatter resumed in the hall until his Bible study friends began clapping. Drew felt their applause offered true acceptance.
Did he want that? Yes!
“Trying to make the rest of us look bad, huh?” John chuckled.
“Blame Drew,” Oliver insisted. “He’s the master pie maker. I just helped.”
“I like baking.” Relieved when Ella tugged on his pant leg, Drew crouched to her level. “What’s up, Bella Ella?”
“Thank you for the ’licious pie, Drew.” She flung her arms around him and planted a sticky kiss on his cheek. “I wish you were my daddy.”
“Why?” Too aware of the crowd around him, some of whom were probably listening, Drew remained in place, hoping he was hidden from onlookers.
“Then you an’ me could make pies together.” Ella tipped her head near his ear and whispered, “That’s what daddies do, Drew. They have fun with their kids. That’s why I want my very own daddy.”
Her words hit like a hammer blow to his chest. This sweet child wasn’t asking for things. She wasn’t making impossible demands. All Ella wanted was a father to do things with her. What was wrong with him that he would deny her that?
Yet just the thought of having to be there for her, of failing her every time she needed him, when all she asked for was to be loved—Drew’s chest tightened and his breathing caught. He wanted that more than he’d thought possible. But it couldn’t be.
