Detour: Destination Abiding Love (10 page)

 

One day.

That was all Sierra had. Tomorrow morning, she'd be seeing Daviston in her rear-view mirror.

For a woman who didn't even want to be in this town, you wouldn't think it would be so hard to leave. Rather than packing and preparing to leave, here she was trying to help Mrs. Whitten for the last time. She rolled out another piecrust and placed it in a tin. Her nerves felt as fragile and thin as the dough.

Next to her, Mrs. Whitten hummed as she peeled apples.

Sierra rolled her shoulders back. “I'm sorry I won't be able to help you in the garden and with the baking as we planned. I feel like I'm leaving you in a bind. I hope I'm following the Lord. I'm not sure my work is done here, but I can't let the music center down, either.”

“I understand.” Mrs. Whitten set her knife to the side and poured a generous amount of sugar over the apple slices before sprinkling cinnamon on top. With a large spoon, she stirred the apples so they would be coated evenly. “I'll miss you, but I'm praying you'll be back soon to finish up what you started.” She stopped what she was doing. “You are planning on coming back as soon as this woman returns, right?”

“Yes, but you know how it is with family emergencies. You never can tell how long it will take.”

“It will work out. You've done a wonderful job in the garden. I don't think Tom will mind helping out a bit with the vegetables when he comes to do my flowerbeds. And as for the baking, I've been doing this by myself for years. I'll miss your company, but I'll manage. At least I'll hold off hiring someone new until I know when you will be back.”

“Thank you.”

“Speaking of missing you, I'm sure the same is true for everyone you've been helping out; the music committee, the farmer's market, our community in general...and we can't forget Cole, either.”

Sierra squirmed, contemplating her time in this town.

Mrs. Whitten smiled. “You have been living in God's power and He'll continue to guide your footsteps.”

“That guidance is what I feel I'm missing.”

Mrs. Whitten placed the crust on top of the pie and quickly fluted the edges before sliding it into the oven. She wiped her hands on her apron, and pointed to a chair. “Sit down. I want to tell you a story.”

Sierra took the seat.

“Did you ever read or hear in the book of Numbers about the spies sent to Canaan?”

“I don't think so.”

With a spark in her eyes, Mrs. Whitten said, “God's people were slaves to the Egyptians. Through Moses, He set His people free.”

“Yes, I remember that story from when I was little...with the plagues and all.”

“Right. Well, after that happened, do you remember how the people were stubborn and rebelled again, so the Lord brought them to the desert of Sinai?”

Sierra scrunched up her forehead. “I think so.”

“By the time they were able to leave, it didn't take long for the complaining to start all over again. Still, God was willing to lead them to the Promised Land. He told Moses to send some men to explore Canaan, and they did. When they came back to report to Moses what they had seen and heard, they said that indeed the land was flowing with milk and honey but the people there were huge and their city was fortified. They were afraid and said it couldn't be done. They were unwilling to go into the land the Lord had promised them.”

“But, God parted the Red Sea, gave them food and water, and kept them safe. You'd think they'd realize God knew what He was doing.”

Mrs. Whitten locked gazes with Sierra. “Because they looked and saw their own size rather than God's size.”

Sierra sat back and let the words flow over her. Hadn't she been just like them? Her problems were big, but not bigger than God. Like placing cooling aloe on sunburn, she felt instant relief. “Thanks.” Tears pricked her eyes. “In the midst of all this upheaval, I needed that.”

“Sure thing.” Mrs. Whitten stood and made her way back to the pile of apples on her counter. “I remember hearing once, abiding with God is not a destination. It's a journey. Do you think you're ready for the ride?”

“I don't know if I am,” Sierra answered honestly, “but I'd like to be.”

 

 

 

 

7

 

Cole stocked the stainless steel cooler with gallon milk jugs as he mentally went through his to-do list. He sighed and closed the glass door. The list, as always, was never-ending. The difference now was that with some help, he finally realized he had replaced intimacy with God for busyness. It seemed so much easier to somehow “do” something in the name of God, rather than sit at His feet in prayer and reading the Word. Before he knew it, God was pushed right out of the equation and Cole was left weary in soul and body.

He chuckled, remembering his conversation with Pastor Bill.
You know, the most active chicken in the yard is the one who just had his head cut off. Activity and busyness doesn't equal holiness.
The hard part wasn't understanding the importance of slowing down, but how to implement the process.

He pushed his stock cart to the next section and reached for the cartons of eggs. The more he thought about the idea that had been on his mind since he heard Sierra was leaving, the better and better it sounded. It was time to leave all the hustle behind for a while and gain some perspective. If he took Sierra to New York, it would mean a six hour car ride with her and a six hour car ride with just him and God on the way back. Cole quickly finished the dairy stocking and pushed the unused supplies back through the store to the storage room cooler.

“Hey, boss. Your mom's out front,” Sam called from the doorway.

“OK, thanks. I'll be right there.”

As Cole walked through the threshold, he nearly collided with his mother. She took a tiny step back but still stood close enough that he could see where she missed spreading her makeup on her forehead. “I want you to come over tonight for dinner. Clara will be there and...”

Cole held his hand up. “Sorry, Mom. I'll need to take a rain check.”

One perfectly groomed eyebrow rose. “Oh? What is so important that you can't come?”

“I'm taking the weekend off and going to New York.”

She shook her head. “But you never...” She stopped abruptly, and her mouth formed a perfect “O” as she placed her hands on her hips. “I hope this has nothing to do with that Sinclair girl.”

“Then you better not ask what I'll be doing in New York.”

She huffed and puffed.

He held back a smile.

“And what about Clara? How do you think she'll feel about you leaving to take another woman on a trip?”

“I'm not really concerned with what Clara thinks. I don't know what I need to say to make you understand we're not dating anymore, Mom. That ended years ago.”

“It's not too late. She's perfect...”

“For someone else. Not me.”

“Don't be a fool and burn this bridge, Colton. I'm warning you; it's a big mistake if you go.” She pointed to the floor. “Stay. Here.”

Cole folded his arms and counted to ten. He tried to keep his voice low and even. “If it's a mistake to take this trip, it's my mistake to make.”

“But your father...”

He stepped closer to the counter. In his mind, the conversation was over. “Dad knows he has my full support. If there is something he needs me to do, I'll get to it when I return. I'll only be gone two days.”

She blinked.

The taut silence stretched between them.

Finally, she turned and rushed out the door.

 



 

Sierra sat on her suitcase as she zipped it shut. Conflicting emotions somersaulted one over another. If only she hadn't ruined her life. She slammed a fist into the soft bedspread. Her chest hurt. She had come to Daviston to beg for forgiveness, but there simply wasn't enough time now. Bitterness pulled at her. Her cellphone rang and she hopped off the bed to get it.

Cole's number.

As if leaving would be any easier after talking to him. Perhaps it was best if she did move. It was foolish to hope they could have some type of lasting relationship, especially after seeing Clara, but for some reason her heart didn't like to listen. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. After the fifth ring, when it would go to voicemail, she made a snap decision and tapped the
TALK
button. “Hello.”

“Hey, Sierra. Have you got a second?”

She looked around her apartment with all she had left to do. “Uh, sure. What's up?”

“Open your door.”

“Huh?”

His deep chuckle sounded in her ear. “Open your door.”

She threw her hand up in the air. “Whatever.” She flung open the door.

“Hi.”

“Cole!” She felt her face grow hot as she groaned inwardly at her appearance. Sweat pants and a ratty T-shirt, with a ponytail that spewed half of her hair out of its band. She grimaced. “Um, like the Medusa look?”

“I've yet to see you look anything less than beautiful, gym get-up and all.”

Sierra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.” She held onto the door frame to support her suddenly weak knees. “What brings you by?”

“Funny you should ask.” He looked over her shoulder. “Mind if I come in?”

“Ah, sure...can I get you something to drink?”

“That would be great.”

As she rummaged through the cabinet, she heard the sofa springs creaked as he sat.

“How's the packing going?”

“Good. I'm almost done.” She pulled out the iced tea and set the glass and pitcher in front of him on the coffee table. “Here you go. Ice?”

“Nah, this is fine, thanks.” He filled the glass. “I've been thinking about your trip, and I'd like to drive you to New York tomorrow morning.”

She sank down next to him on the sofa.
Man, that would solve so many problems
. The temporary housing situation; boarding with another musician in her tiny apartment, which didn't have parking for more than one vehicle, meant she'd have to pay to use a parking garage in the city if she took her own car. That would be pricey. She had thought about taking the bus, but at this late date, the tickets were so expensive she'd decided she'd just drive herself and deal with the parking issue when she arrived. Cole's offer was amazing but... “What about your store?”

“It will be fine. I have good employees.” He pushed the glass aside and reached for her hand. “I want to take you and see where you'll be. It will help me be able to visualize what you are doing when I think about and pray for you.”

“Why do you care so much when my own family doesn't?”

“If they don't care, it's their loss.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “Look, I know you had the less than ideal childhood. But regardless of how you feel, you're not responsible for your father's actions...only your reaction to it. Bitterness and unforgiveness can only destroy you.”

A teardrop she couldn't keep in check rolled down her face.

Cole pulled her into his arms. He pressed her head to his chest and let her rest there for a moment before he tipped her chin and forced her to look up. His blue eyes, flecked with gray, held concern within their depths. “It's time to let it go.”

“I know but...” Sierra swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “You don't understand what it was like.” She wished he would hold her forever. She seemed to fit perfectly against him, as if he could shelter her from any storm.

He got up and paced away from her.

Sierra felt the loss immediately. “It doesn't matter. I've made it this far without my family. I don't know why everything is bothering me so much tonight.”

“Sierra, don't pull away and pretend everything is fine.”

“Fine?” She couldn't keep the bitter note out of her laugh. “I wanted this town to see that Christ changed me, but the longer I'm here and the harder I try, the more I realize I'm the same girl I always was, with the same baggage and fears.”

His gaze grew soft. “No, there is a big difference that you seem to have forgotten...you've been forgiven by the One who counts the most.”

Finally, she nodded. “You're right.”

He pulled her back to him.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her forehead against his chest. She felt his heart pound as quickly as her own.

“Listen, it's going to be an early morning, so I should be going. What time do you want me pick you up?”

“Are you sure you want to go? I'd be fine on my own.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I'm positive, so don't try to talk me out of it.”

“OK. How about we plan on leaving at six so we can be there around lunch.”

“I'll be here by quarter ‘til.” His gaze dropped to her lips.

Would he kiss her? What was wrong with her? Despite all odds, her affection for him kept growing. She wanted to feel his lips pressed against hers, but she shouldn't. She held her breath and waited.

As if he sensed her turmoil, he turned away. “You're tired and need sleep. I'll see you in the morning.”

 



 

Sierra was just about to turn out her light when a soft knock sounded. She tightened the belt of her robe and barely opened the door, peeking through the crack.

Melissa grinned and held out a cup of hot chocolate.

Sierra opened the door wide.

“I know this is your last night and you probably are about ready for bed. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Is there ever a bad time for chocolate?” Sierra took the cup Melissa held out for her.

“Not in my book.”

They padded over to the couch and sat.