Love's Story (47 page)

Chase's broad shoulders sank in dejection in response to the pastor's innocent remark. His prayers had not been answered after all. Rachel had not been to services since the gossip began nearly three months earlier. He watched her, holding hands with little Seth, as she approached the altar from the aisle, turned suddenly, and followed the Lathrops to their seats.

She was truly a warm sight, caring for Seth in such motherly fashion, but Chase had to snap out of his daze. He had to avoid these feelings if Rachel were not walking with the Lord. God stated plainly in the Bible that two are not to be unequally yoked, and Chase had witnessed that truth with his own oxen. The lesson had always been such an easy one until today as he gazed at the woman he loved.

Why had she allowed her faith to suffer at such a difficult time in her life? Chase prayed silently that something would speak to her. He forced himself to look away from his heart's desire and again spoke to the pastor. “I'd better let you get to work. It looks like just about everyone is here.”

Chase walked up the aisle toward his female escorts and glanced toward the Lathrops on his way, laboring to wave and smile casually.

Rachel's heart skipped a beat as she saw the mill owner dressed formally in black. She had forgotten how truly handsome he was. The coal-colored suit set off his dark hair and made his eyes appear the color of a cool mountain stream. Rachel caught herself staring and blinked suddenly, lowering her eyes toward Seth.

The preacher began his sermon by speaking of trusting in the Lord on this fine Christmas Eve, and Rachel began preparing lesson plans in her mind… until he quoted a passage not usually connected with Christmas: “‘And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?' Judge not, my friends.” He stopped to look at the women gathered in the sanctuary. “As we reflect this Christmas Eve on the precious gift our Lord gave us in His Son, let us not forget to love all of His creations. This is one of the greatest commandments.” Pastor Swayles looked directly at Rachel and she felt herself smile graciously at him.

After the service, Rachel watched Robert approach Chase and invite him for coffee and the family's gift opening. Rachel waited, breathless, a polite distance away for his answer.

“Thank you so much for the offer, Robert. I must say it's hard to resist.” Chase gazed at Rachel. “I've promised Mrs. Hopper I'd come by this evening; Mrs. Williams is anxious to serve her Christmas cake.”

“There's always tomorrow. You'll join us for Christmas dinner?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.” Chase then leaned close to Robert and whispered something only for his ears, and Robert nodded, a sneaky smile crossing his lips.

Rachel exited the church with Seth on her hip, having forgotten Robert's earlier instructions to his son. Chase, standing tall and fine in his dark suit, tipped his hat toward Rachel. “Good evening, Miss Phillips.”

His very words sent her reeling. Chase Dylan could be extremely charming. It took all of Rachel's strength to contain her rising emotions as she returned with a simple, “Good evening, Mr. Dylan.”

As the Lathrop family walked home, Robert carried an odd-sized, rectangular-shaped package beneath his arm. The parcel was wrapped in a flour sack and surrounded by a ribbon of the palest pink. He smiled secretively as he brought the mysterious bundle into the house and placed it under the small sequoia that decorated their home in honor of Jesus' birth.

“You've been taunting us with that package, Robert. Who are you planning on giving it to?” Maria teased.

“Now that you ask, I'll have to be forthright,” Robert said. “The present is for Rachel.” Rachel eyes widened in wonder, for she could not imagine what the gift could be. She had already received the parcel from her mother and stepfather, so she guessed it must be from the Lathrops.

“Please tell me you didn't get anything for me, Robert… Maria.” Rachel had already felt as though she had imposed so much by living in their home.

“There's a notecard, Rachel. Why don't you open it?” Robert reached under the tree and placed the package in her hands.

Rachel fumbled eagerly with the envelope, pulling the contents out with childlike excitement. In the center of the notecard were the initials “C. D.” and Rachel breathed deeply at the possibility that the gift was from Chase. She gently placed her fingers on the raised letters and touched them carefully.

“Go ahead, Rachel. Open it,” Maria said excitedly.

Rachel closed her eyes momentarily and quickly opened the card. She was rewarded by Chase's own large script, with his signature at the bottom of the page.

Rachel read the name again and again. Chase? Chase Dylan had really sent her a Christmas gift. Why? Was it just his flirtatious manner or could he possibly care for her after all? Rachel dared not to hope.

“Well, who is it from?” Maria asked, knowing full well by the smile on Rachel's face.

“It's… it's from Chase Dylan,” Rachel said incredulously.

“Open!” Seth shouted excitedly.

Rachel carefully untied the pink ribbon and unwrapped the package. She gasped with delight as she walked toward the lamp and examined the contents closely. “Oh my, it's perfect,” Rachel whispered breathily.

Rachel held in her hand the most incredible likeness of Searsville Lake, as seen from Rachel's bedroom when she had stayed at Mrs. Hopper's home. The oil painting captured the morning sunlight perfectly, casting its heavenly light upon the lake.

“Chase had Mrs. Williams paint it,” Robert commented.

“Mrs. Williams from Redwood?” Rachel asked with surprise, for the painting seemed done by a professional.

“Chase says she dabbles with painting,” Robert said.

“I'd say that's putting it mildly,” Maria laughingly added.

“Either way, I'm sure we'll hear all about it tomorrow when Chase comes for dinner. In the meantime, I think it's getting a little late for the rest of the presents. Let's get to bed and start early in the morning. Seth doesn't understand this gift-giving part of Christmas yet, so I think we'll be okay putting off our tradition until morning.” Robert handed the women lamps and they prepared for sleep.

That night Rachel lay in bed, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling in disbelief.
Why would Chase give me such a gift? It must have been expensive, even if Mrs. Williams did paint it. Of course I can't keep it. Yet I dread the thought of parting with it. I wonder if Mrs. Williams might sell it to me after I return it to Chase? But could I afford it on my meager salary?
After a long, silent discussion with herself, Rachel finally fell into a restless sleep.

R
achel awoke to a bright stream of sunshine pouring through her window on Christmas morning.
I love California,
she thought.
Where else can people enjoy so much glorious sunshine in the dead of winter?
She knew they needed the rains for the state's cattle and crops, but today she was just content to revel in the sun's bright warmth.

“Coffee's ready,” Maria called out from the kitchen. Rachel started as she splashed her face with cold water from the wash basin on her bureau. It felt invigorating, and Rachel was reminded that it was indeed winter.

“I'll be right out, Maria.” Rachel was embarrassed to see Seth's empty bed; she must have slept right through his usual wake-up routine. It was Christmas morning of course; the family would be anxious to begin their celebration. How could she have been so careless? Rachel's eyes were drawn to her painting, and she remembered the previous evening. Sleep had been so difficult.

Rachel emerged from her room with her new painting under her arm. “Rachel, what are you planning to do with that?” Maria asked.

“I want to take it outside and see it in the natural light. Then I plan to return it to its rightful owner, Chase Dylan.” Rachel spoke the words with conviction, but clutched the painting tightly, obviously reluctant to part with it for even a moment, much less forever.

“Why ever would you give it back? It was a gift, and Chase obviously thought long and hard about it or it would not have been so well suited to you.” Maria's logic seemed perfectly rational, and Rachel was once again tempted to keep the painting.

“Dear, I think what Rachel decides to do with the gift is her decision,” Robert said.

“You're right. I'm sorry, Rachel. It's not my affair. Let's sit down and have breakfast, shall we? Seth?” Maria raised her voice in the direction of the parlor where Seth was playing noisily with his new wooden blocks.

Rachel set down the painting in a stream of sunlight near the doorway and stared into it.

“What did Searsville's beautiful young schoolteacher think of her painting?” Mrs. Williams asked Chase as they strolled along the lake in the chilly morning air. “Besides that it was the best likeness she'd ever seen—that goes without saying,” she added jokingly, a twinkle in her eye.

“I don't rightly know yet. I suppose I'll find out this afternoon at supper.” Mrs. Williams had been trying to marry him off since they'd met, and he took pleasure in trying to frustrate her matchmaking ways.

“If she enjoys the lake as much as you say, I can't think of any reason she wouldn't like it. Besides, I think the artist is brilliant,” Mrs. Williams said lightheartedly.

Chase stopped in his tracks and turned toward Mrs. Williams, a serious look crossing his face. “Mrs. Williams, I must confess the painting was originally meant as more than a gift. From what I understand, Rachel is really struggling with her faith. I had hoped her difficulties would be over by the time I returned from Redwood, but I'm afraid that isn't the case. I had hoped the painting might show her that I care for her, that I have serious intentions toward her. I had intended to wait until the gossip died down, but I'm afraid I was over anxious.”

Chase's piercing blue eyes looked hopefully into the elderly woman's own, then he continued, “I've fallen in love with her. But what if her faith isn't just bottoming out because of the town gossip? What if she truly has turned against the Lord?”

“I'd say that was the Lord's problem, Chase. Not yours.” Mrs. Williams's voice was gentle but firm.

“I understand that, Mrs. Williams. I'm just wondering… do you think the Lord would bring me this far, only to tell me she's not the woman for me?”

“Chase, have you asked the Lord about you and Rachel? Perhaps you're not really seeking His will for your
own
life.” Mrs. Williams's motherly tone put it as softly as it could be said. Deep down, Chase knew she was right. He had wanted to make Rachel the woman he wished her to be in his heart: the fiery and independent spirit he'd seen in Redwood, with a heart for the Lord. He had only prayed for her renewed faith, never for God's will, be that what it may.