The Pastor's Wife (24 page)

An hour later, Maura sat at her dining table, staring blankly at the white stuffed bear perched in front of her. She’d called Nick's cell phone, but it had gone straight to voice mail. She hadn’t tried again. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk to her right now.

The knock on the door made her heart leap. He’d come back! She ran across the room, twisted the knob, and jerked the door open. But it wasn’t Nick who stood on the other side.

“Rachel.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Rachel's smile turned into an instant frown. “Don’t get so excited,” she grumbled. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m sorry. Come on in.” She stepped aside and waved her friend into the room. “I’m glad you’re here. This just hasn’t been the best day.”

Rachel whirled around, catching Maura by the shoulders. “Did your test results come in?”

Maura nodded. “Yes, but—”

“Honey, I’m so sorry.” Rachel engulfed her in a hug. “But you’re gonna get through this. I’ll be here for you. Whatever you need, you just let me know.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Maura wriggled out of her friend's grip. “The tests results were great. It's just a cyst. I’m fine. No cancer.”

“I don’t understand.” Rachel's brows scrunched up. “Why aren’t you celebrating? And why do you look like you just lost your best friend?”

“Because I did.” Maura collapsed into the easy chair. “I told Nick today. About the baby.”

Rachel drew in a quick breath. “Oh, boy.” She sat on the couch, angling her body toward Maura. “I guess he didn’t take it too well.”

“Hardly. I think he's out of my life for good.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You didn’t see him, Rachel. He was so angry. And hurt. He said he could never trust me again.” Maura pinched the bridge of her nose. “How can he ever forgive me?”

“Let me ask you, how long did it take you to get over losing the baby?”

Maura leaned her head against the back of the chair, eyes closed. After the miscarriage, she’d thought about the baby every day, the pain so intense it was almost physical. But with time, the ache dulled, until it became a traumatic, distant memory.

“I don’t know exactly,” she answered, “but it was a long time.”

“Of course, it was. Now look at it from Nick's perspective. Not only did he just find out there was a baby, but he found out about the miscarriage and that you kept it from him. That's a lot to process all at once. I’m sure he's hurt and angry and a whole slew of other emotions all at the same time.” Rachel leaned forward, her eyes intense. “But that doesn’t mean he’ll stay that way. Give him some time.”

What Rachel said made sense, but Maura knew how easy it was to ignore a problem rather than face it. “What if time doesn’t help? What if he won’t talk to me again?”

Rachel smiled. “You know better than anyone how small this town is. The two of you will run into each other whether you want to or not. He won’t be able to avoid you forever.”

“I guess you’re right.” Maura sighed. “So what do I do now?”

“Now you live.” Rachel slapped Maura on the knee. “You stared cancer down and beat it.”

Maura rolled her eyes. “You’re being a bit overly dramatic. I didn’t beat it. It was never there to begin with.”

“Still, the possibility of cancer was there, and you faced it. This is a time to celebrate.”

Rachel was so positive, her tone so upbeat, Maura felt encouraged despite the fact that her relationship with Nick had just imploded. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m taking you to lunch at Rosie's Diner. The cheesecake's to die for. Better yet, it's to live for. And we’re both going to have a big piece for dessert.”

Maura nodded. “Just give me a second.” She stood up and headed to the bathroom. Rachel was right about Nick. He needed time to deal with everything she’d just told him. After the miscarriage, she believed their life as husband and wife was over. But God brought her back and gave her a second chance. But would He show her the same grace a second time?

Nick went straight from Maura's apartment to the one place he could always count on: the church. Years earlier, when he’d found himself single, abandoned by his wife, he’d sought refuge there, finding comfort in burying himself in the Lord's work. He expected to find the same solace now.

But it didn’t quite work out that way.

When he got to the office, Pastor Chris was leaning on the desk beside Pauline, looking at something on her computer monitor. As Nick walked in the door, they both looked up, surprise evident on their faces.

“Pastor Nick,” Pauline said, “we didn’t expect to see you today.”

Chris's expression was serious. “Is everything all right?”

Nick nodded. “The crisis is over. Everything's fine, and I’m back to work. If you two have a minute, we can go over the schedule and you can get me back up to speed.”

Chris and Pauline exchanged looks, then followed Nick into his office. For the next thirty minutes, they filled him in on upcoming meetings and appointments. Nick penciled more and more things into his calendar until he’d filled in almost every day for the next month.

“Thanks, Pauline. If anything else comes up, let me know. Now I need to talk to Pastor Chris.”

Pauline got up to leave, but stopped at the door. “It's good to have you back, Pastor.”

After she’d gone, a somber Chris leaned forward in his chair. “Do you want to tell me what's going on?”

On the other side of the round table, Nick leaned back, his elbow on the armrest of his chair and his fingertips resting against his temple. No, he really didn’t want to talk about his personal pain. He was in the business of helping others. As a leader, he needed to set an example, hold a higher standard. To admit to the disastrous state of his life was like admitting he’d failed at his work. Failed God.

“I don’t know if I can,” he said.

Chris picked up a pen and fiddled with the cap. “I care about what you’re going through, as my pastor and as my friend. But if you’re not ready to talk, I won’t push you.” Chris gathered his papers from the desk and stood up to leave.

In the year and a half that Chris had been with Faith Community, Nick had come to regard him not only as a gifted minister, but as a trusted friend. Chris was probably the only person in Granger he could talk to about personal issues.

“Wait,” Nick called to him. “You’re right. Let's sit on the couch. This could take a while.”

Nick told him the whole story. About the cancer scare, his near reconciliation with Maura, and the devastating news about the miscarriage. As he talked, Nick felt the emotions roil up inside him again, like a soda can being shaken. What must
Chris think of him? Was he wondering how a man could be so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t know about his wife's pregnancy? But Chris just listened, no evidence of judgment on his face.

“That's the whole story,” Nick concluded. “She lied to me. And now our marriage is over. For good this time.”

“Are you sure?” Chris asked, his voice soft. “It sounds like you both made mistakes, and she forgave you. Why can’t you do the same?”

Nick chafed at the statement. As a pastor, he knew better than anyone the importance of forgiveness. “Well, of course, I’ll forgive her. I don’t have a choice, do I? But how can I forget what happened? I’m still grieving the death of a child I didn’t even know existed until a few hours ago.”

“Of course. When it comes right down to it, this is between you and God. Once you’re right with Him, you’ll know how to approach Maura.” Chris leaned forward and grabbed Nick's hand. “Let's pray.”

By the time Chris walked out of his office, Nick's mind had cleared. He still felt hurt and angry, but maybe in time, that would pass. For now, he needed to submerge himself in prayer, the Bible, and serving others. It had worked for him before and he was sure it would work again now.

His stomach rumbled, a reminder that lunch time had come and gone some time ago. Grabbing his coat, he went back to the outer office. “I’m walking over to Rosie's,” he said to Pauline. “Will you call ahead and order me a roast beef sandwich to go? And order something for yourself if you’d like.”

“That's okay. I already ate.” Pauline shooed him out the door. “I’ll call right now.”

Once outside, frigid blasts of air assaulted him. He took a deep breath, feeling the exhilarating burn in his lungs. The cold made him feel alive and reminded him of the power of
God. The same God that made the wind blow had promised to be with him always. Even to the ends of the age. Even through the darkest times of his life. Nick needed to hold on to that, now more than ever.

By the time he stepped inside the diner, he could hardly feel his nose. The heat felt good, setting his cheeks to tingling.

“Hi, Josie.” Nick greeted the waitress behind the counter. “Is my takeout order ready?”

“Sure thing, Pastor Nick. I’ll go grab it for you.” The young woman headed for the kitchen, but turned and came back. “Oh, hey, your wife's here if you want to join her. She's in that booth over there with her friend. Seems like they’re celebrating something.”

Almost against his will, Nick looked in the direction Josie had pointed. Maura and Rachel sat in a corner booth. They were eating cheesecake and laughing.

Laughing.

Blood pounded in Nick's ears. How could she be laughing? It was an irrational reaction, but he couldn’t help it. She may have had years to deal with the death of their child, but for Nick the pain was brand new, his emotions raw like exposed nerves. To him, the child had died today. He couldn’t imagine finding anything to laugh about.

Just nine months before, Nick had been living his life the best he knew how when she walked back into it. Nine months … enough time to have a baby.

Or to kill a dream.

Maura speared a piece of cheesecake. The fork was halfway to her mouth when she stopped and turned, looking right at him. Her face grew serious, and she set the fork on her plate with a clank. Across from her, Rachel stopped talking and craned her head around, her eyes wide as saucers when she saw him.

Rachel knew. Shame rose up, threatening to choke him. How many other people knew? How would he face his congregation once the inevitable gossip started?

From the booth, Maura raised her hand in a tentative wave. He turned away, taking his wallet out of his inside coat pocket. He paid Josie, grabbed the white paper bag, and stalked from the warm diner, back out into the cold, biting wind.

J
ed Benson cleared his throat before announcing, “Miss Hattie left me the house.”

Nick looked up from the portable communion kit he was repacking. “What was that?”

Jed muttered something under his breath. He was an odd fellow. A fifty-five-year-old man who owned his own house and land, he would make quite a catch if he ever ventured into Granger. But in all the years Nick had known him, he’d never gone past his own property line. Jed made people come to him, and even had his groceries delivered. Which is why Nick made it a point to visit and give him communion at least once a month. Or whenever Jed had new livestock that needed blessing.

Nick snapped the small leather case shut and put it in his briefcase. “What house are you talking about?”

“You know that old hovel about a mile from here? It borders my property. Miss Hattie owned the ten acres it sits on.” He retrieved the battered Stetson he’d taken off earlier in respect of the communion ceremony and jammed it back on his head. “I tried to buy it from her more than once, but she was a stub
born old bird. Said she’d give it to me if I’d promise to start going to church.”

Nick laughed. “That sounds like Miss Hattie.”

Jed nodded. “The only reason I wanted to buy the land was so I could tear the old eyesore of a building down. But she was stubborn, and so was I. The last time we talked she said maybe she’d leave it to me in her will. I’ll be darned if she didn’t do just that.”

Nick stood and Jed followed his lead. “Are you surprised?”

Jed shrugged. “After all those crazy hoops she made you jump through, I can’t figure out why she didn’t do the same to me.”

“I guess she knew when to give up. She couldn’t hound you anymore after she was dead.” Nick walked to the door with Jed on his heels.

“Maybe. But I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Ah. That explained why Jed brought it up. “If you’re feeling guilty, there's a simple way to remedy that.”

“Didn’t say anything about feeling guilty.” Jed snorted. He didn’t speak again until they reached Nick's car. “Thanks for stopping by, Pastor.”

Nick stowed his briefcase in the backseat. “I’m glad to do it. But I’m still praying that one day, I’ll have the privilege of sharing communion with you in the church.”

Jed made no reply. He shook Nick's hand, gave a curt nod good-bye, and went back into his house.

Driving back to town, Nick thought about Jed. What in the world could keep a strong, capable man a virtual prisoner on his own property? Something traumatic must have happened to him, some emotional experience he couldn’t shake. Nick fervently hoped that one day the man would feel he could share it with someone.