Love Inspired March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: North Country Family\Small-Town Midwife\Protecting the Widow's Heart (14 page)

“It's very kind of you to say that and I'm so proud of you for thinking of it.” She reached for him, and suppressed the sting of rejection when he rejected her embrace. “But I have to be responsible, honey. If I bought that guitar, it would leave us with no money. What if something happened?”

Noah's disappointment was written all over his face.

“I'm so sorry, Noah,” she said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I want to help Rick as much as you do, but I simply can't do this.”

“Y-yeah. I f-figured.” He shrugged off her hand. “D-Don't tell a-anyone. R-Rick doesn't kn-know I know.” Then he bolted from the room.

Alone, Cassie thought of Rick strumming his guitar, lost in another world, a place where he found solace and peace...

Be bold and strong. Banish fear and doubt! For remember, the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.

The words she'd read from Joshua just this morning convicted Cassie. Rick asked so little for himself, yet he gave so much. Who gave to him?

“Okay, God,” she murmured. “This is trust in action.”

Cassie sat down in front of a computer and searched eBay until she found what she wanted. Then, holding her breath, she made a bid.

I hope you haven't made a mistake,
whispered the voice inside her head.

Cassie shut it down. In her innermost heart, she knew buying back Rick's guitar wasn't a mistake. She could always knit another sweater, work another shift. She was good at finding ways to build up a nest egg.

But it wasn't every day that an opportunity came along to do something wonderful for Rick.

And Rick definitely deserved wonderful.

* * *

Rick stood in the shadows of the school auditorium, unashamedly listening to Cassie's conversation with Lucy as they manned the punch bowl at the Valentine's dance.

“So you're playing for the Easter cantata with the choir,” Lucy said. “Does that mean you'll be coming to church regularly?”

“I'm not sure,” Cassie said with some hesitation. “I'm not really much of a churchgoer. I believe in God but I prefer to meet with Him on my own.”

Rick winced, knowing Lucy was not going to like this answer.

“What good does that do?” Lucy demanded.

“I don't know what you mean.” Cassie sounded confused.

“The Bible tells us not to forsake the assembling of ourselves—in other words, church!” Lucy was ramping up. Rick had to intervene and rescue Cassie.

He stepped forward and grinned at them. “What kind of punch do we have here?”

“Red,” Lucy told him unhelpfully. She handed him a glass. “I was telling Cassie that it's part of a Christian's duty to be faithful at church.”

“Lucy, everyone has to come to church in their own way, in their own time,” Rick said gently, trying to defuse Lucy's hard-nosed approach.

“Well, when will that be?” Lucy asked Cassie.

“I, um, don't think I'm ready yet.” Cassie glanced at Lucy, her face thoughtful. “Some church members accused me of being involved in my husband's wrongdoing. I thought they should have known the truth because they knew me so I didn't dispute their claims. Now I'm wondering if maybe I should have.”

“Why?” Lucy asked.

“Because I realize now that doing so might have made things easier for Noah,” Cassie admitted. “If I'd publicly disputed their claims instead of avoiding confrontation, he might not have kept everything pent up inside. Maybe he wouldn't stutter now. I don't know.”

“That's the thing. You never know. You do your best and you leave it in the Lord's hands. But you can share it with your Christian friends. We'll understand.” Lucy clasped Cassie's hands between her own. “That's why we all admire Rick so much. He helps make our burdens lighter.”

Rick felt his cheeks heat.

“I've often wished I had Rick's faith,” Cassie admitted to Lucy.

“Rick gained his faith by learning from his mistakes,” Lucy said.

“Hey. I'm right here, you know.”

They ignored him.

“That's the way we all learn,” Lucy told her.

“I don't think Rick's made as many mistakes as I have,” Cassie murmured.

If she only knew,
he thought.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Let's dance. Okay?” he asked Lucy.

She grinned her know-it-all grin and nodded.

“The doubts are back, huh?” Rick asked as he threaded his arm around Cassie's waist. Cassie fit in his arms so perfectly. Their steps across the floor matched as if they'd rehearsed.

“I'm afraid my failure to defend myself was what damaged Noah,” she whispered. “I wonder if it did so much damage he'll never get over his speech impediment.”

“Your dad once lent me a book about a man named Sidney Cox. He wrote a song you probably know,” Rick said, ignoring the guilt that rose up in him at the mention of her father. He paused a moment, then said the words in a very soft voice, ‘“My Lord knows the way through the wilderness. All I have to do is follow. Strength for today is mine all the way and all that I need for tomorrow.'”

“I remember that.” Cassie sighed. He tried to ignore the feel of her head resting on his shoulder. “You're telling me to keep the faith, is that it?”

“Basically, yes.” He felt her shoulders shake and knew she was laughing. “What?”

“Do you ever stop being a pastor?” Cassie asked.

Rick couldn't answer. Because if he had, he would have told her that the moment she'd begun to move with him to the music, he'd forgotten his vow, his determination to keep her at arm's length. He'd have said that with her he was simply a normal guy, thrilled to have the most beautiful woman in the world in his arms.

And then he would have told her why nothing could ever come of that.

Because she deserved the truth.

Rick opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come. When the music ended, Cassie thanked him for the dance and went back to her work at the punch table.

His arms felt painfully empty.

Suddenly aware that he was alone on the dance floor, Rick sought out Noah, who was standing on the sidelines, watching.

“How's it going?”

Noah stared at Rick for a long moment. The silence stretched between them until another song began to play, a loud, noisy one that had the kids laughing and twisting to the beat. Then Noah grabbed Rick's arm and leaned near.

“Will y-you teach me t-to box?” he asked. “P-please?”

“Let's go talk about it.” With one last glance at Cassie—looking more beautiful than his heart could stand in her black velvet suit with her golden hair framing her lovely face—Rick led the way out of the auditorium.

Chapter Eleven

T
wo weeks later Cassie played with her coffee cup, on tenterhooks as she waited for Rick's arrival at the restaurant. He'd called her several times to arrange a coffee date, but she kept getting called into work.

Fussing isn't going to get him here any faster,
she told herself.
Calm down.

Saying that didn't help, either. She felt anything but calm when her thoughts centered on Rick Salinger. Her feelings for this man had grown and changed. Every time she talked to him she grew increasingly certain that this man was
different,
that she could trust him as she trusted no other.

Cassie caught her breath when he strode through the door. When he called a greeting to the owner and then grinned at her, a part of her heart melted. He sat down across the table from her, his green eyes expectant. Cassie struggled to control her response to him while they waited for the server to bring his coffee.

How should she begin?

“Cat got your tongue?” Rick teased.

“I'm allergic to cats,” she said, then rolled her eyes at the inane remark.

“So?” He leaned back, crossed his booted feet and waited. “You called me,” he said.

“I—” She regrouped. “You said you wanted to talk to me and I need to talk to you. About something.” She rolled her eyes at herself.

“About Noah?” His eyes darkened with concern on behalf of her son, but Cassie didn't stop to analyze that. She couldn't. She needed to get this said.

“About your guitar.” Sorrow flashed briefly across his face before he concealed it.

“I—uh, I don't have it anymore.” He blinked. “Actually I sold it.”

“I know. I bought it, Rick.” Cassie waited for her words to penetrate. “I'm your online buyer.”

“You? But...” Dismay filled his face. “You need the money for your savings. You told me how important that is to you.”

“Saving pennies isn't as important to me as you having that guitar, which you love. That instrument is part of you. The way you use it to bring joy and peace to so many—” She shook her head. “I couldn't let you sell it.”

His jaw hardened as he looked away from her. “I won't take your money, Cassie.”

“The deal is done.” Cassie reached out to cover his hand with hers and thought how strange it was to comfort him for once. “You have to take the money, Rick. You need it to get Michael his saxophone.”

“You know?” His green eyes widened. “How—”

“Shame on you for not consulting me. This is our project. So I did my part.” Cassie couldn't stifle the rest any longer. “You've already sent the guitar to Toronto, to a Mrs. Nancy Carr, right? She's my dad's next-door neighbor. Dad will bring your guitar when he comes for a visit sometime in the next few weeks.”

“You've reconciled with him.” He made a movement forward, as if he was going to hug her, but then he checked himself, substituting a smile instead. “Cassie, that's fantastic!”

“It is, isn't it?” she agreed, trying to ignore the silly feelings of loss that rushed over her at the missed opportunity to be in Rick's arms again, even if for a brief moment. “I got his letter yesterday. You were right, Rick,” she admitted shyly. “I did misunderstand what my dad was trying to say. He was warning me not to get caught in the blame game and become bitter.”

Rick squeezed her hand, then slowly let it go. “I'm so happy for you, Cassie.”

“Thanks. It's not all sweetness and light, but we're both committed to working through the tough parts. There are still things I don't understand, but I realize now, thanks to you, that there's a lot about my dad that I don't know.”

Rick leaned back, away from her. Something strange passed across his face, something she didn't quite catch.

“Are you pleased about your guitar, Rick?” she asked, suddenly feeling strangely shy.

“You shouldn't have done it, Cassie.” His soft, low voice brimmed with respect and admiration. “I love that guitar, but I could have managed without it.”

“I don't believe you should have to,” she said, surprised by how strongly she felt. “That guitar is part of who you are, part of your ministry. And don't worry, Rick. Consider the money partial payment on the tithes I owe God for the past few years. Alicia will help me replenish my account in no time.”

He looked dubious.

“I want Michael to have his saxophone as much as you do,” she reassured him. “That's what's important. Now you can buy one, can't you?”

“I already did.” She laughed as Rick grinned at her. “I'm praying it will help.”

“It will, Rick. Of course it will.”

“Thank you, Cassie.” His words were filled with such tenderness that Cassie couldn't catch her breath for a moment. “We should go—it's nearly time for choir practice.”

“Wait—weren't you the one who kept trying to make a coffee date with me? Well, here we are.” She was confused by his sudden rush to leave. “Wouldn't now be a good time? We have a few minutes to spare.”

That look crossed Rick's face again as he swallowed the last of his coffee. “Let's do it another time.”

Bewildered, Cassie gathered up her things. As they walked along the street toward the church, she was aware of speculative stares directed their way. The fact that people might pair them as Alicia had didn't bother her. In fact, she felt proud to be walking beside such an admirable man.

But she wondered if those curious eyes and whispered comments bothered Rick. Was that why he was maintaining a certain distance from her as they walked, careful not to brush shoulders or tease her the way he usually did?

Was he worried about his reputation, being seen with a woman who'd been married to a man who lost church funds? No matter how long the list of Rick's attributes, her past was a black mark that would work against him.

The doubts about Rick's behavior rose in Cassie's mind and would not be silenced.

Rehearsal did not go as well as previous ones had. Even Noah's normally clear, pure voice faltered in the midst of his solo. He actually missed several notes he'd never struggled with before.

Cassie wasn't sure if the problems stemmed from the fact that Rick didn't seem as focused, or because the kids were getting excited about the prospect of performing in public at the Easter morning service, which was now posted all over town. Whatever the reason, they looked as disheartened as she felt by the end of their practice session.

“Don't sweat it, guys. Everyone has a bad rehearsal now and then,” Rick consoled them. “We'll do better next time.”

“But Easter is only a month away,” Rod said, disgruntled. “If we sound like this then everyone's going to laugh at us.”

“No one's going to laugh,” Rick said firmly. “We're going to be perfect for every note.”

“Let's try it again,” Michael said.

Rick shook his head. “We've done enough for today. We'll pick it up again next week. Stop worrying. It will come together.” He smiled at them. “Go home now. It's almost time for supper.”

As the kids left the sanctuary, Cassie studied Rick. He folded the pages of music he'd spread out, pausing every so often to call out a farewell. Though he'd pretended nonchalance, his eyes were dark with concern. Lines grooved deeper around his eyes. He glanced at her once, then quickly looked away, keeping his gaze averted as the kids left.

Only when Noah approached him and said something did Cassie see the faint vestige of a smile. Rick seemed to be shutting her out again, and she found herself wondering exactly what it was he wanted to talk to her about.

As she gathered her things and prepared to leave, her phone rang.

“Cassie, Laurel's trying to get hold of you,” Sara said. “She rushed Daniel to the hospital. She's hoping you can meet her there.”

“I'll be there in ten minutes.” Cassie felt a shiver of dread walk up her spine. What now?

“Y-you'll be where?” Noah asked from behind her.

“The hospital. There's been an emergency with Daniel.” She wouldn't say more until she knew more. She called to Rick. “I'm sorry to impose on you, Rick, but I wonder if you could take Noah home. Daniel's at the hospital.”

“Sure, no problem. We'll go on my snowmobile. I had it tuned up this morning.”

“Helmets?” she asked.

“I'm n-not a b-baby,” Noah protested, his face red with anger.

“I insist everyone who rides my snowmobile wears a helmet,” Rick said. “We'll be fine. We'll have supper together before I take him back.”

“Thank you.” Cassie turned to Noah. “Help with the dishes,” she murmured sotto voce. “And remember, you need to get that geography assignment done tonight. No computer time until it's finished.”

“I kn-know the r-rules,” Noah snarled.

“I have to go.” Cassie leaned forward to brush a kiss against Noah's cheek. It hurt so much when he reared back, avoiding her touch. She gulped down her tears and said, “I don't know when I'll get home. I love you.”

Noah didn't respond.

Cassie turned to Rick. “Thank you for your help,” she said quietly. Then she headed for the foyer.

“That wasn't very nice, Noah,” she heard Rick say. “Your mother loves you.”

“D-does she?” Noah didn't sound convinced.

There wasn't anything Cassie could do about it now, but when she got back to Lives, she would have a long, stern talk with her son and make sure he knew exactly how deeply she cared about him. And one way or another, she was going to have that private conversation with Rick, too.

Something was going on with him. It was time she figured out what it was.

* * *

“You want to go a few rounds?” Rick asked, nodding toward his spare room after they'd eaten a mostly silent meal and cleaned up. He'd hung the punching bag there, turning the place into a kind of mini gym, and he sensed that Noah could use some time with the bag to help with whatever was boiling inside him.

Noah's blue eyes sparkled as Rick helped him put on his boxing gloves. It was the first positive sign the boy had given all evening.

Noah worked out on the bag first, then they sparred. It was at least half an hour before Noah spoke.

“D-do you ever g-get so m-mad you want t-to h-hit everybody?” Noah grunted, his face red with exertion.

“Is that how you feel?” Rick felt practically victorious when Noah nodded, finally engaging in conversation with him. “Why?”

“N-nothing's going r-right.” He smashed his fist against Rick's glove. “I h-hate it h-here.”

“Because?” Rick parried and feinted, moving fast to keep up with the boy's explosion of energy.

“P-people think I'm w-weird.”

“What people?” Rick could sense Noah's fury like a red-hot fever. “Kids at school?” Noah nodded. “Your teachers?” Another nod. “Your mom?”

Noah gnawed on his lip. “I'd l-like to s-smash th-them all,” he snarled.

The sheer animosity in those words stunned Rick so much he was unprepared for Noah's fist and it connected with his nose. Blood spurted out and pain exploded across his face.

Rick grabbed a towel and pressed it to his nose awkwardly with his gloved hand. It took a long time to stem the flow. Eventually it slowed down enough for him to toss away the towel and use his teeth to untie his gloves. Only then did it dawn on him that Noah hadn't said anything.

Rick looked at the boy. Noah had paled to an unhealthy shade of white. He began to shake, his whole body twitching.

“It's just a nosebleed, Noah. I'm fine. I should have ducked, just like I've been teaching you.” Rick summoned a grin, though moving even those few muscles hurt like crazy. But Noah didn't respond.

Ripping off his gloves, Rick grasped Noah's arm and peered into his eyes. “I'm fine. No big deal.”

“I'm s-sorry,” Noah gulped as tears coursed down his cheeks. “I'm s-so s-sorry.”

“I know.” Rick unlaced the boy's gloves and removed them. He slid off the protective headgear he'd insisted on, wondering wryly why he hadn't thought of it for himself. Then he wrapped an arm around Noah's shoulder. “Let's go get a drink.”

“D-don't you h-have to g-go to the h-hospital?”

“For a nosebleed? You want them to laugh at me?” He held Noah's gaze, refusing to look away as the boy searched his gaze. “I'm not made of sugar, you know.”

“I d-didn't m-mean—”

“Noah.” Rick stopped him. “People get hurt in boxing sometimes. I warned you about that before we ever started, remember?” He waited for Noah's nod. “Anyway, I'm fine. Almost.”

Noah flopped down on a chair in front of the windows. Rick sat down across from him.

“Want to tell me what makes you so angry you're beating up kids at school?”

Noah's head jerked up. “You know?”

“I've suspected for a while. Something's clearly eating at you, Noah. Let's get it out in the open.” He prayed silently for God to give him the right words. “Talk to me. I only want to help.”

“I'm not going to be hurt anymore,” Noah said in a tight voice. “I'm not going to be made fun of ever again. If someone tries, I'll stop it.”

Aghast at the admissions he was hearing, Rick sat silent, knowing Noah needed the release this honesty would bring. But the more he heard, the more he wondered— Why? What lay beneath the boy's pain?

The phone rang.

“Rick, is Noah still there?” Cassie's voice, breathless and worried came across the line.

“Yes.” Just hearing her voice sent his every sense into high alert.
Get in control.
“I was about to take him to Lives,” Rick told her.

“No! Don't do that.” She inhaled. “I need a very big favor. Can Noah stay with you overnight, Rick?”