Love Finds a Way (27 page)

Wendy smiled at her dad’s little pun, then went to the hall closet, where she retrieved his jacket. “The roads are getting bad. I hope it won’t take too long to get to the hospital.”

“I don’t think I’ll bleed to death,” he said with a sardonic smile. “If I thought it was really serious, I might have you call 911.” His forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think those paramedics would be too happy to get another call from here today though.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “That older guy didn’t respond to you at all like Kyle Rogers, did he?”

“That’s putting it mildly. I think he was more than a bit irritated with me for wasting his precious time today.”

“Well, just put it out of your head,” Wendy said with a smile. “Tonight,
I’m
going to be your rescuer.”

The roads weren’t quite as bad as Wendy expected, and they made it to the hospital in twenty minutes. Fortunately, there weren’t too many emergencies that evening, so Dad was called to an examining room soon after filling out some paperwork.

“Would you like me to go along?” Wendy gave Dad’s arm a little squeeze as a young nurse began to usher him away.

He shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go out to the waiting area and try to relax?”

Relax? How on earth was she supposed to relax when her nerves felt taut and her stomach was playing a game of leapfrog? The headache, which she’d acquired around noon, was still pulsating like a jackhammer, too. She would give anything for a cup of hot tea and an aspirin.

Wendy found a chair in the empty waiting room. She rested her elbows on her jean-clad knees and began to methodically rub her forehead.
At least Dad isn’t seriously injured, and now that he’s agreed to quit playing matchmaker, I don’t have to rack my brain to come up with any plan to steer him in some other direction either
.

“What are
you
doing here?”

Wendy jumped at the sound of a deep male voice. Kyle Rogers stood a few feet away, smiling down at her. “Kyle! I—uh—Dad cut his hand.”

“Another 911 call?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

She shook her head. “Not this time.” She didn’t bother telling him about the call her father had placed around noon. If the Grangely grapevine was as active as the one in her small town, then Kyle had probably already heard the whole story from the other paramedics.

“What then?” he asked, taking the seat beside her.

“Dad was trying to make supper, and the knife he was using slipped,” she explained. “He has a pretty nasty cut on his left thumb, and it bled quite a lot.”

“It’s a good thing you were home when it happened.”

Wendy blinked several times. “Actually, I wasn’t. He did it while I was still at work. I found him lying on the floor.”

Kyle grimaced. “You drove him to the hospital yourself?”

“Of course,” Wendy replied. “After today, I wasn’t about to call 911.”

“What happened today?”

Wendy shrugged, realizing he must not have heard anything after all. “It’s not important.”

She eyed him curiously. “Say, what are
you
doing here, anyway? I thought you were planning to take in a concert tonight. Shouldn’t you be there and not here at the hospital?”

He chuckled. “I changed my mind about going. It didn’t seem like such a good idea when I thought about attending it alone.” He studied Wendy for several seconds, causing her mouth to suddenly go dry. Then he added, “I came here to check on a patient Steve and I brought in yesterday.”

I wish he’d quit looking at me like that
, she mused.
What are those serious brown eyes of his trying to tell me? How do I know if Kyle is really what he appears to be? I misjudged a so-called Christian once, and I—

“It was a little boy who’d been mauled by a dog,” he said, interrupting her unsettling thoughts.

“What?” Wendy shook her head and shifted restlessly in her chair, trying to force her thoughts back to what Kyle was saying.

“The patient I came to see,” he explained. “A five-year-old boy was playing at his neighbor’s house and got in the middle of a cat and dog skirmish.”

“How awful!” Wendy exclaimed. “Is he going to be all right?”

Kyle nodded. “He’ll probably undergo extensive plastic surgery, but I think the little tyke will be fine.”

“It’s—uh—thoughtful of you to care so much about the patients you bring to the hospital,” she stammered. “I think you go over and above the call of duty as a paramedic.”

In a surprise gesture, Kyle reached for Wendy’s hand. “I do care about my patients, but I also care about you and your father. In fact, I’ve been thinking that I might stop in and see you both from time to time—when I’m not on duty, that is.”

She swallowed hard. “You’ve been thinking that?”

He nodded. “I really believe your dad could use some company, and since you’re so opposed to me playing matchmaker—”

“Don’t even go there,” she warned.

He shrugged. “Okay, but I could sure use a good barber.”

She pulled her hand sharply away.
So that’s all he sees me as—just a good barber. In spite of my misgivings, I was actually beginning to think—hope, really—that Kyle was interested in me as a woman, and not merely someone to give him a shave and a haircut. I knew Mr. Perfect Paramedic was too good to be true. He’s probably no different than Dale or Gabe after all
.

Just when I’m beginning to make a bit of headway, Wendy pulls into her shell
, Kyle thought, letting his head drop into his hands.
What’s it going to take to break down her wall of mistrust and get her to open up to me?

“Dad thinks you’re perfect, you know,” Wendy blurted out, interrupting his thoughts. “He wants us to get married.”

Kyle’s head jerked up. “What? Your dad wants
what?”

“He tried to set us up.” Wendy’s face contorted. “That’s why Dad kept calling 911.”

Kyle chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. “All the calls were phony?”

She nodded. “Every last one of them. He even made a third call around noon today, saying something about feeling dizzy. I thought you might have heard about that one.”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. How do you know he was faking it?”

“He admitted it,” she said. “After Steve and Phil left this afternoon, Dad confessed that he’d been trying to play matchmaker all along.”

Kyle sucked in a deep breath and expelled it with force. “But today was my day off. I didn’t even respond to his 911 call, so—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “He was really upset when you didn’t show up. That’s when I began to get suspicious. Up until then, I just thought he was trying to get attention or simply needed someone to talk to.”

Kyle mopped his forehead with the back of his shirtsleeve. “Whew! This is pretty heavy stuff.”

She nodded. “My feelings exactly!”

“And here I was trying to come up with some way to fix your dad up with Edna Stone.” Kyle shook his head slowly. “Wayne was one step ahead of me all the way, wasn’t he?”

“Dad’s a pretty slick operator, all right,” Wendy admitted. “Guess that’s why he did well in business for so many years.”

Kyle’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you saying that Wayne was dishonest in his business dealings?”

Wendy waved one hand in the air. “No, no, of course not. I just meant—”

“You can see your father now, Miss Campbell,” a woman’s soft voice interrupted.

Kyle and Wendy both turned to face the nurse who had just entered the waiting room. “Would you like me to go with you?” Kyle asked.

Wendy shook her head. “No, thanks. Dad’s my problem, not yours.” She stood up and left the room before Kyle could say another word.

“Oh Lord, what have I gotten myself into?” he moaned.

O
ver the next several weeks, some drastic changes were made at the Campbell house. Dad no longer spent his time playing matchmaker, which was a welcome relief for Wendy. She was sure it had taken a lot of energy for him to scheme and make those false 911 calls. Even though he’d done it out of love and concern for her, she was glad that whole scenario was behind them. Wendy still got goose bumps every time she heard a siren, but she felt a small sense of peace knowing that if the ambulance should ever go to her house again, it would be for a “real” emergency and not some trumped-up illness.

Another change, which was definitely for the better, was the fact that Dad had asked to go to church again. Wendy, wanting to please her father, was willing to accompany him. She hadn’t completely dealt with her feelings of mistrust or self-doubt, but at least she was being exposed to the Word of God each week. That fact made her feel somewhat better about herself and her circumstances.

True to his word, Kyle Rogers had become a regular visitor, both at the Campbell home and at Wendy’s barbershop. A few times Kyle had taken Dad out for a ride in his Bronco and had even made a commitment to see that he would go fishing in the spring—with or without Edna Stone.

“There’s no reason your dad can’t keep on doing some fun things,” Kyle informed Wendy when he stopped by the barbershop one afternoon.

“I doubt that he could even bait his line, much less catch any fish.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Kyle asserted. “I’ll do everything for him, and all he will have to do is just sit in a folding chair and hold the pole.”

If another customer hadn’t come in, Wendy might have debated further. Instead she merely shrugged. “Spring is still a few months away. When the time comes, we’ll talk about it.”

Kyle flashed her a grin and sauntered out the door.

Wendy frowned. She found his warm smile and kind words unnerving—right along with the verses of scripture he’d quoted on his last few visits. One verse in particular had really set her to thinking. It was Proverbs 29: 25:
“Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe. “
Wendy’s trust hadn’t been in the Lord for a long time. She wasn’t sure she could ever trust again. After the loss of her mother, her father being diagnosed with crippling arthritis, then the episode with Dale, how could she have faith in anyone or anything?

There was also the matter of all the crude, rude men and boys who came into her barbershop. She wasn’t a “perfect” Christian by any means, but it was difficult to look past all these men’s bad habits and sometimes downright sinful ways. How could she ever believe that any man, except for Dad, could be kind and loving?

“Hey, Wendy, are ya gonna cut my hair or not?”

Jerking her thoughts back to the job at hand, Wendy turned toward the barber’s chair. Gabe Hunter was eyeing her curiously. It had only been a few weeks, but the egotistic Romeo was back for another haircut.

He probably came in just to bug me
, she grumbled silently.
Well, this time I refuse to let him ruffle my feathers. If he thinks he even has half a chance with me, he’s in for a rude awakening!

Kyle left Wendy’s shop feeling more confused than he had in weeks. She seemed interested in the scriptures he’d been sharing with her, and on one occasion had even told him that she and her dad were going to church again. That should have had him singing God’s praises. It had been his desire to help both Wendy and Wayne find their way back to the Lord. In a roundabout way, he’d accomplished that, too.