A Place in Her Heart

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “Nothing mysterious about Colson Ethier,” Rick said. Except for a twisted desire to send his grandson on a trip down his own particular memory lane. He would be talking to Grandpa Colson as soon as he got a chance. “I’ll see you Sunday. Thanks again for the invitation.”

  Becky tapped her fingers against her chin as she glanced around the foyer of the church once more. Rick better show up soon or she was leaving. When Cora Ellison told her she should be the one to make sure he’s welcome, Becky only agreed out of a sense of guilt.

  She shouldn’t have snooped in his Day-Timer. Not that she found anything out. He had a year’s worth of dates written in his immaculate handwriting and none were of a personal nature. The only phone numbers were business related. His life looked empty, unappealing and sterile.

  “Don’t do it, Becks.” Leanne, her sister, caught her hand as it edged toward her mouth. “Your nails are just starting to grow back.”

  “And since when do you care about my nails, Leanne?” Becky asked with a quick grin, slipping her sister’s arm through hers.

  “Since I’m wondering if you’re ever going to get a boyfriend again.”

  “A manicure isn’t going to do it and you know it.”

  “Oh, please, not another ‘look not for the beauty nor whiteness of skin’ lecture. I get them enough from Mom.” Leanne squeezed her sister’s arm. “If you spent more time on your hair and makeup, you’d get a guy lickety split.”

  “That’s a little simplistic. Besides, I have lots of guys.”

  “But they’re all just friends,” her sister complained. “I can’t believe you don’t care about guys. I know Trevor didn’t break your heart that much.”

  “He only dented it a little.”

  “So why don’t you two go out again? I heard he’s back.”

  “Trust me, he’ll be gone once the snow flies. I’m not going to date some guy who is just hanging around here, waiting for a chance to leave. This is my home and this is where I want to live.”

  “If you found the right guy, I’m sure he’d be able to talk you into leaving.”

  Becky tapped her little sister on the nose. “You see, that’s the problem. The right guy for me is one who doesn’t want to leave.”

  Leanne pulled back, frowning. “I think I get it.”

  “Let me know when you do.”

  “So how long do we have to wait for this Rick guy?” Leanne said, brushing her long brown hair back from her face. “I promised Donita I’d sit with her.”

  “Just a few more minutes.” Becky glanced at her watch, hoping Rick wouldn’t show. Now, or for lunch after church. But what she hoped even more was that he hadn’t read her Day-Timer. Like she’d read his.

  “Okay, Becks. New guy alert.” Leanne tugged on her arm, her eyes riveted to the door. “Shaggy hockey hair. Nice mouth. Gorgeous eyes.” Leanne added a dramatic sigh. “He’s wearing a suit, but otherwise he’s movie-star adorable.”

  Becky glanced toward the object of her sister’s gushing. And straightened as disappointment and a tingle of anticipation flitted through her. Rick’s suit gave him an authoritative air at odds with the haircut, or lack of it, that was currently labeled “hockey hair”—long enough to hang out the back of a hockey helmet. “He’s also my boss.”

  Leanne’s mouth dropped. “That’s Rick Ethier?”

  “Let’s go say hi and get that part over and done with.” Becky snagged her sister’s arm, and walked purposefully toward him.

  Rick stood in the doorway looking, she had to concede, a little lost in the wave of people drifting past him.

  Someone caught her by the arm, halting her progress. Leslie VandeKeere, a woman from one of the committees Becky was involved in. “Becky. Just wanted to know if you’ve had a chance to go over that banner idea Susan put together.”

  “Not just yet. I’ll check it out this afternoon,” Becky said.

  “I was thinking we could get your sister to help sew it.”

  Becky nodded, keeping an eye on Rick.

  “Sorry, Leslie,” Leanne said, rescuing her. “We’ve got to catch someone before he leaves.”

  And it looked like he was about to. He had his hand on the door when they caught up to him.

  “Good morning, Rick,” Becky said, catching his attention. He turned to them and for a moment Becky saw a flicker of an unknown emotion in his blue eyes. Relief? Disappointment?

  “Welcome to the service,” Becky said with a forced smile. “Mom asked me to make sure you were properly greeted when you came.”

  Rick smiled back. “Well, tell your mother thanks.”

  “You can tell her yourself,” Leanne said, glancing from Rick to Becky with avid interest. “You’re supposed to sit with us.”

  Becky flashed her sister a warning glance, but Leanne studiously ignored her sister, her entire attention focused on Rick.

  “By the way, Rick,” Becky said, wishing her sister was more circumspect. “This is my little sister Leanne.” Becky put heavy emphasis on “little” hoping she would get the hint.

  But Leanne just ignored Becky.

  “That’s okay. I’m sure I can find a place,” Rick said.

  “No. Come and sit with us.” Leanne touched Rick on the shoulder, winking at Becky. “That way we don’t have to find you after church. Makes sense, doesn’t it, Becky?”

  “Perfect sense,” Becky said dryly. “Now we better go.”

  “Becky is going to be singing in the worship service later on. She’s got a great voice,” Leanne said as Becky led the way through the crowd.

  “I’m looking forward to hearing her,” Rick said.

  Becky’s heart sank at his words. When she had maneuvered him into attending church she had forgotten she would be singing this morning.

  And when she saw her family all sitting together, she regretted her impulse even more.

  Just about the whole shooting match was watching her as she and Leanne led Rick up the aisle to the empty spot beside her parents. The only ones missing were Colette and her boyfriend, Nick.

  “Hey Dad. Mom,” Becky said, flashing her brothers and sisters a warning look to dampen their sudden interest in the man behind her. As if that would help. Her family was as curious as magpies and just as nosy. Becky showing up with a man in tow was going to cause a lot of chatter and unwelcome questions.

  She dropped onto the pew, and started reading the church bulletin as if trying to show them by her disinterest that he meant nothing.

  But Leanne, the little stinker, had positioned Rick so he was sitting right beside Becky.

  “Are you going to introduce us?” her father asked, nudging Becky.

  Becky looked up at her father with a pleading expression, but his steady gaze reinforced years of ingrained manners. So with a reluctant sigh she turned to Rick, but he was looking away from her.

  She touched him lightly on his arm to get his attention. He turned to her then, his eyebrows arched questioningly.

  “Rick, I’d like you to meet my father, Sam Ellison. Dad, this is Rick Ethier. And my mother, Cora, you already met.”

  Cora leaned over and waved, then turned as her attention was drawn by one of the kids behind her. Sam leaned past Becky, shaking Rick’s hand. “Pleased to meet you finally. We’ve heard about you from Becky, of course.”

  “Really?” Rick’s gaze flicked back to Becky, his eyes glinting. “I didn’t think she gave me a second thought once she left the office.”

  Not only second thoughts. Third and fourth ones, as well.

  Duty done, Becky returned to her reading. But her entire attention was focused on the man beside her.

  Chapter 4

  Would he look bored if he crossed his arms?

  Rick shifted in his seat, fidgeted, then did it anyway. It had been years since he’d attended church. Not only did he feel out of the rhythm of the church service, he also felt out of place sitting with Becky’s obviously close family.

  Beside him, Becky leaned forward, her elbow
s resting on her knees, her chin planted on the palms of her hands, her attention on the preacher. Seeing her head canted to one side and her mouth curved in a half smile, he caught a glimpse of the girl he only saw when she was around other people. She wore a pale blue dress today in some kind of floaty, peasant-looking style. It enhanced the golden tint of her hair, brought out the peach of her complexion. Pretty in a fun, semi-flirty way. Not that she would be flirting with him.

  “So I want to encourage all of us to pray for people who hurt us,” the minister was saying, and Rick pulled his attention back to the man. “Praying for our enemies frees us from bitterness. From hatred.” He paused a moment as if to bring the point home.

  “As William Law said, ‘There is nothing that makes us love a man so much as prayer for him,’” he continued. “So Christ’s command to pray for our enemies is not only for our enemies’ good. It is for ours, as well.”

  Rick looked down at the toes of his shoes as the minister’s words pushed him back to his last memory of his mother. She was sitting at a desk in her bedroom, her head bent over a book. When he had asked her what she was doing, she told him she was praying for him.

  He looked over at Becky and wondered if she, too, had been praying for him as her parents had suggested. He doubted it.

  The congregation got to its feet, breaking off his thoughts.

  As the worship group came forward, Becky slipped past him, walked down the aisle and up to the podium. Without any announcement she picked up a cordless microphone, took her position on the stage and cued the group leader with a faint lift of her chin.

  The music started quietly, the gentle chords of the piano picking out the melody, the electric organ filling in the spaces.

  Becky faced the congregation, waiting as the rest of the musicians joined in. She stood perfectly still, holding the mic with one hand. An overhead light shone brightly on her, singling her out from the rest of the singers. At a pause in the music, she started singing.

  Her voice rang clear as the words of an old familiar song poured out of her. “‘Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.’”

  Rick recognized the prayer. Had mumbled the words himself as a young boy still trying to please his grandfather.

  But he had never heard them sung with such crystal sincerity. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Becky as she closed her eyes and her hand lifted up, palm up in a gesture of surrender. She was a woman in communion with her God, her prayer pouring out of her in song, peace suffusing her features.

  And as she sang, he heard in the depths of his soul, a still small voice, familiar, yet long suppressed.

  The music built as Becky came to the end of the song, her voice growing, filling the building with power and conviction. “‘For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory…’”

  The voice in him grew with the song and for a moment Rick listened. Heard. Then pushed it away.

  He and God hadn’t spoken in years. What he’d seen in his travels around the world reinforced his opinion that God was disinterested and uninvolved with His creation.

  So why am I here? In a place known as God’s house?

  The last notes of Becky’s song died away, and with it, Rick’s questions. He was here because he’d been neatly manipulated into coming. No other reason! The minister took the podium again and announced the collection. As the ushers came forward, the tone of the gathering seemed to shift and Rick started to relax.

  Ten minutes later, the service was over.

  Becky had disappeared from the front of the church, leaving Rick to figure out how to make a graceful exit. But it was not to be.

  “Rick, I’d like you to meet the rest of the family,” Cora said, catching him by the arm and keeping him anchored to her side. She gestured around the group gathered around her. “The short brunette over there is Treena with her husband, Lyle, and their three children. They live here in Holmes Crossing. The long streak of misery beside her is Dennis. One of these days he’s going to shave off that shaggy goatee. Beside him is Bert and his girlfriend, Laura. Bert and Dennis work with their father at the orchard. And Leanne you’ve already met.” Cora looked around the cluster of people, her pride evident in her voice and the satisfied smile she bestowed on her brood.

  Rick prided himself on his ability to meet people and remember their names, but in the confused conversation that followed Cora’s introductions, he lost track of who belonged to who. So he just said a general hello, letting his gaze meet each one of them for a moment.

  “Are you still coming for lunch?” Cora asked him as they made their way out of the church building surrounded by chatter and laughter.

  “I don’t want to intrude,” Rick said, feeling he should protest out of politeness, even though a part of him was intrigued by the family’s interaction.

  “Nonsense.” Cora waved off his protestations. “Two people—you’d be intruding. With ten, you’re hardly a blip on the radar. Now, where did that Becky go?” Cora looked around, frowning. “Leanne, do you mind riding with Rick to show him the way to our place?”

  Cora patted Rick on the arm in a maternal gesture that made him smile, threw out a flurry of instructions to the rest of the family and headed off, leaving a slightly breathless Rick in her wake.

  Leanne followed him outside to his Jeep, frowning as he unlocked it. “From the way Becky talked about you, I figured you’d be driving some kind of fancy convertible.”

  “And how did she talk about me?” Even as he spoke, he was sorry he asked. What Becky said about him out of the office wasn’t any of his business. Bad enough that he had read her private thoughts about him already.

  Leanne shrugged, flipping down the visor on the passenger side. “I dunno,” she said, running the tip of her finger over her eyelid. “She just made you sound, you know, like some kind of rich, spoiled guy who traveled a lot.”

  “She got the traveling part right,” Rick said dryly as he maneuvered his way out of the parking lot.

  “You mean you’re not rich?” Leanne asked, finger-combing her hair away from her face. “I thought your grandfather had tons of money.”

  “Grandfather isn’t short of cash. But the only way I can get any of it, if I were to want any of it, is to join the Ethier empire. And I’m not about to put my head in that noose.” He stopped and turned to Leanne. “Where am I supposed to be going, Navigator?”

  “Head out of town on the main drag, then hang a left at the red horse barn.” Leanne dug through her purse and pulled out a package. “Some gum?”

  He turned and started driving. “How far is this red horse barn?”

  “Not far.” Leanne frowned as she popped the gum into her mouth. “Hey, slow up,” she said, pointing out a girl walking down the sidewalk of the road they were driving down. “There’s Sharelle. Can we pick her up? She hasn’t been to my place in, like, forever.”

  “Your mom won’t mind having unexpected company?” Rick asked as he pulled over on the road, pulling up beside a petite girl with short black hair and dark skin.

  Leanne threw him a puzzled look. “Sharelle’s my friend.”

  He presumed that put her in a category other than “company.”

  Leanne rolled down the window and stuck her head out.

  “Hey, Sharelle,” Leanne called, waving to her friend. “Coming over?”

  “Who you with?” Sharelle asked, walking up to Leanne’s window. She bent over, glancing in at Rick. “Hey there,” she said, flashing him a grin.

  “This is Rick. He works with Becky. He came to church with us this morning. Get in.”

  “I’ll have to call my mom when we get to your place. I don’t have my cell with me,” Sharelle said, climbing into the back seat, looking around the back of the Jeep. “Nice wheels.”

  Leanne turned to Rick. “Do you have a cell phone she can use?”

  Rick handed it to her. “No problem.”

  “Good thing we weren’t riding with Becky,” Leanne said, her tone clearly indic
ating that this was not a compliment. “She hardly ever packs her cell with her. Can’t figure that. If I had a cell phone, I’d have it with me all the time.”

  “Yah, and you’d be talking on it all the time, wouldn’t you?” Sharelle’s voice rose at the end of each of her sentences, as if in question while she punched in her parents’ number.

  Leanne shifted sideways, looking back at her friend. “Did you talk to her about helping with the youth retreat?”

  Sharelle flipped her hand toward Leanne. “Said she had some important interview that day? With the premier?”

  Rick’s heart kicked up a notch in a mixture of pleasure and anger. Becky hadn’t told him that she’d finalized a date for the interview. If Sharelle hadn’t casually dropped that little tidbit in conversation he wondered if Becky would have even bothered to let him know.

  “When is your retreat?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

  “Long weekend in September?” Sharelle smiled at him, then started talking to her mother on the phone.

  Rick hoped she was telling and not asking as he made a mental note of the date. He wasn’t going to say anything right away to Becky. Better that he bide his time and see what she did with the information.

  “You have to turn up ahead,” Leanne said, pointing to a large red barn close to the road. “Go past VandeKeere’s a couple of miles.”

  “VandeKeeres?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Leslie and Dan’s place. I babysit for them sometimes. They have the most adorable kids. Her sister owns Terra’s Cafe/ Terra is married to one of the local Mounties, Jack. He’s kind of a hunk. But they live in town. If you keep going to the end of the road and you’ll go straight into Mom and Dad’s driveway. We’re probably first so if you don’t want to get, like totally sandwiched between cars, you might want to park by the barns.”

  Rick felt his head spinning at all the information Leanne had so casually tossed at him. But he took Leanne’s advice and parked a ways away from the house in the lee of a large brown building. He got his phone back from Leanne and then followed her and Sharelle up the driveway and through an ivy-covered archway granting them entrance to a spacious yard sheltered by trees. His step slowed on the brick walk as his gaze was caught by the vibrant flowers cascading out of pots hanging from the eaves of the porch, spilling out of endless flower beds bordering an emerald-green lawn and tucked up against the house. Flagstone walkways branched off the main one meandering past a plant-filled pond with a fountain only to disappear around the front of the house. Closer to the house two wooden slatted benches flanked by huge flowerpots extended an unspoken invitation to sit and enjoy the symphony of color and light that filled the yard surrounding the large two-story farmhouse.