Crossing Values (3 page)

As she continued browsing the room, she came to a small table beside a beautifully etched wooden rocker. On the table was a box of tissues and a worn, blue leather Bible. In the lower right corner of the front cover, Amber read stamped in gold letters: “To My Beloved.” She reached out to carefully touch the letters, lost in the few good memories she had.

“You are welcome to read any of the books in here anytime you like.”

Amber jumped at Peter’s voice and snatched her hand back from the Bible as she turned to face him. How long has he been watching?

“We each have our favorites, but most of them are pretty good. Do you have someone you like read?” Still dressed in jogging clothes and tennis shoes, Peter wiped a bead of sweat from his temple as he waited for her response.

“No.” I wish I could read enough books to be able to choose a favorite!

“Well, then, what’s your favorite kind of book to read?”

Kind of book? Amber stared blankly at Peter, not sure how to answer his question.

“Do you like fiction, history, poetry?”

Amber shifted uneasily from one foot to another. A guy with a library in his house couldn’t possibly understand a lack of books. “I just read whatever I find laying around.”

“We have several fiction books over here.” Peter walked to the bookshelf by the large bay window at the front of the house. “Mom likes Beverly Lewis, although Dee Henderson can have a little more action in her books if you like that.” He had pulled one off the shelf and held it out to her.

Amber hesitated then moved to take it from him. “Thanks.” Maybe if I look interested in the book, he’ll leave me alone. Problem was, not only did Peter leave like she hoped, his presence left with him.

What is it about him that gets to me? Come on, girl! You can’t be getting attached to these people. They aren’t worth the cost.

: : : : :

At least the family didn’t make a huge deal over church. Saturday afternoon, curled up in the chair closest to the fire to read the book she’d taken from Peter the day before, Frank interrupted her when he came in to add a log to the fire.

“Enjoyin’ the book?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Why do people always get chatty when you’re reading?

“Which one ya got?”

Amber flipped to the front cover and showed him the title. “Peter said it was a good action book.”

“As I recall, there’s a whole series of ’em in there. Peter seemed to like ’em well enough but I’m thinkin’ I only read a couple. But then I ain’t much into fiction. You help yourself to any of those books. That’s what they’re there for.”

“Thank you.” Amber opened the book, eager to get back to the story.

Frank walked to the end of the couch and looked back at her. “I don’t know how exactly you feel ’bout this, but we attend church services on Sunday mornin’s. You’re always welcome to join us. We leave ’bout nine.”

Amber wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Church folks never seemed to like her and she’d never found much use for them. But after giving me a job and a place to sleep, how do I tell him no?

Thankfully, Frank didn’t really seem to expect an answer. He was already heading toward the garage.

Faye was just as easy Sunday morning over breakfast. Amber came downstairs to the smell of fresh muffins. She breathed deeply as she approached the kitchen. “That smells really good,” she said.

“Why, thank you, Amber. Have a seat on one of those bar stools there while I get the butter and jellies.” Faye handed Amber a basket overflowing with large muffins still warm from the oven. “Hot muffins just sounded so good this morning, and they make for a quick cleanup before church. Would you like some milk or some juice?”

“Milk, please.”

“You know, you are always welcome to join us for church.”

Amber’s stomach turned. “I appreciate that.” Not wanting to make eye contact with Faye, she busied herself adding some butter to her strawberry muffin.

Faye sat down beside her, placing a glass of milk near her plate. “You know, I didn’t always like church.” She patted Amber’s knee before continuing. “In fact, I didn’t really start going regular until just before Frank and I got married. It was important to him, you see, but I’d never had much use for it. It just wasn’t important to my parents when I was growing up.”

Amber listened attentively but still couldn’t bring herself to look Faye in the eyes.

“Amber, what I’m trying to say is that it’s okay if you don’t want to go with us this morning. Many people have been hurt by church-goin’ folks. Others just don’t see a need to go to services. Whatever your reasons, if you ever change your mind, just know that you’re welcome. Okay?”

Amber looked at Faye for just a moment, unsure what to say. “Thank you.”

“Now then, if you’d like to do some laundry, just help yourself. The washer and dryer are right back through that door.” Faye pointed to a door just to the right of the sink. “And I’ll ask Peter to stoke up the fire real good so you can sit and read in the living room if you’d like. You just make yourself at home.”

As Faye rambled on about when she thought they’d be back and various plans for the week, Amber’s mind continued to wrestle with the same question she’d had from the start: Is this family for real? Her thoughts circled around the family, analyzing their behaviors and possible hidden motives. Hope continually fought to spring to life, but in her experience people just weren’t kind. Kindness always had strings attached and the only way to survive was to figure out what the person really wanted before you got emotionally tied. It was easier to walk away with the person’s dark side exposed. It’s easier to walk away. . . .

: : : : :

As Amber lay in bed Monday morning and reviewed her weekend, she continued to struggle to find any ulterior motives. The family seemed genuinely nice. Faye had really made soup for the family who was sick and Peter had really left with it the next evening. The few employees she’d met on Friday all seemed pleasant and showed affection for Faye and admiration for Frank. And the family had left without her for church on Sunday morning without a hint of condemnation.

Peter unnerved her, though. He easily stood eight or nine inches taller than her short stature and at least sixty pounds heavier. He obviously ran consistently and his arms boasted muscles used to working in the Oregon forest. His hair was slightly darker than her own brown locks and his mouth always seemed ready to smile. But his eyes were what caught her breath. She’d always considered her eyes to be boring and expressionless, mousy brown like her hair, but his blue eyes pierced through her until she felt like she was standing emotionally naked in front of him. How much does he really see?

At least Sassy usually gave her a reason to avoid him. She and the dog had come to a wary alliance, at least on Amber’s part. Amber preferred it if the dog kept her distance but Sassy seemed to like her. Figures. The one I most fear is the one who wants to stick closest.

Amber rolled over and looked at the clock. 7:24. She gave a stretch before getting out of bed. If she got moving she could get done in the shower and back to her own room before Peter came upstairs.

: : : : :

Thanksgiving was important to Faye. Amber struggled to keep up as they went through the grocery store with a list that seemed long enough to feed a dozen families. If she understood right, this was going to be her first major gathering at the Yager home. Peter’s older brother, Logan, and his wife, Heather, would be coming along with their three children, as well as his younger sister, Brittney, and Frank’s dad, whom everyone called Pops. Faye also called to invite Chad, who was like Frank’s son, along with his wife and their two boys, plus Micah and his son Andy and Andy’s wife, Allie.

I wish I’d showed up a week later! She sighed quietly as Faye put some green beans into the cart and looked over her list. Maybe I’ll finally learn what these people are all about. Family tends to bring out darker sides.

“Oh, Amber!” Faye said. “I forgot the marshmallows. Will you please go back and get some? I need a bag of the little ones—Frank likes them baked over the sweet potatoes. And I also need a bag of the big ones for cooking over the fire later in the evening. Thank you!”

Amber dutifully went back through the store looking for marshmallows, sighing as she tried to remember where she had seen them. Later in the evening? Didn’t she say Brittney and Pops would be there by 9:00 a.m. for cinnamon rolls? It sounds like people will be filling the house all day! Ugh!

Lost in her thoughts, she almost ran straight into Peter. “Oh!” She tried to back up quickly while Peter reached to steady her. “Sorry.”

“Dad sent the cavalry. He thought you might need backup to get all of Mom’s Thanksgiving purchases home.”

Amber grinned as she thought back to the two full grocery carts she’d just left with Faye and their Camry’s back seat full of mums. “I was beginning to wonder how we’d fit everything into her car.”

“You look lost. Did Mom send you back for something?” Peter’s eyes sparkled.

“Marshmallows. She said the little ones for sweet potatoes and the big ones for roasting over a fire.”

“Ah, yes,” Peter nodded. “Dad’s sweet tooth and Logan’s kids.” Peter began leading the way to an aisle near the produce with all the baking supplies. “The only way Dad will touch a sweet potato is if it is smothered in marshmallows. And Logan’s kids will think something is horribly wrong if there are no s’mores Thanksgiving afternoon.”

“S’mores?”

“Mmm. Chocolate, roasted marshmallow, graham cracker. Sound familiar?”

“No. This is a popular treat around here?” Amber’s mouth was watering at the idea of such a concoction. Her mind held a faint memory of roasted marshmallows. Surely chocolate would just make it better.

Peter stopped in front of the stock of marshmallows and stared at Amber. “You’ve never had a s’more? Your family must not have been into camping.”

“Uh, no.” Amber started to add more. Part of her longed to trust Peter, but history hadn’t been kind. Thankfully Peter didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, then, you are in for a treat! If your appetite for Mom’s fudge pie last night is any indication, you’re gonna love s’mores!”

Chapter 4

“
OKAY, MOM,” PETER SAID AS
he closed the trunk of his mom’s black Camry. “That’s the last bag. Now you go get in my Jeep with Amber and head on home. I’ve got to stop over at Micah’s then I’ll be right behind you.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind, Peter? I can take the car home.”

“I know you can, Mom, but I’d prefer you drive the Jeep. The fresh snow makes a couple of those turns on the road home tricky and the Jeep has better traction.”

“All right, then. Please don’t be long. I want to get these groceries unloaded and organized so I can start working on the desserts.”

“Yes, ma’am. I should only be at Micah’s about five minutes.”

Peter watched his mom get into the driver’s seat of his Jeep. As they pulled out, he saw Amber look his way but jerk back as soon as they made eye contact.

Father, I don’t know about this girl you sent us, Peter prayed. She frustrates me! Just when I think she’s going to trust me with some bit of information, she clams up again. What was that look over the marshmallows about?

Nothing. Apparently God was keeping His information as close as Amber was keeping her thoughts.

Peter breathed in deeply as he got into his mother’s car and turned toward Micah’s Hardware. Jesus, we need help with her. Did I hand her the right book to read the other morning? She seems to enjoy it. But is it making a difference? Father, don’t let her leave us farther from You than she was when she arrived. Use us to draw her in.

: : : : :

“Hey, Micah!”

“Peter! Good to see you.” Micah put down the screwdrivers he was organizing and stood to his full six-foot height to shake Peter’s hand.

“Got some new stock in?” Peter raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded toward the screwdrivers Micah had just been sorting.

“Nah. Chad was just in here with Josh and Caleb. Those two boys love these tools and I didn’t have the heart to get after them today.”

“Things going okay with Amy?” Peter was suddenly concerned. He’d meant to ask Chad yesterday how Amy and the boys were, but the day got away from him in the wood shop and he’d never gone down to the logging garage to find him.

“Oh, yeah. She’s still got some morning sickness, but Chad says things are better now that Joshua’s back to normal. Thankfully Caleb never caught it.”

“Good. Hey, Amber said you called to tell us the blades for the band saw were in.”

“Sure are. I figured you’d be in to get them today or tomorrow, so I put them right back here.” Micah walked behind the front counter and opened a cabinet. “How’s that girl working out?”

“She’s quiet. Definitely been hurt. But she picks things up fast and does whatever Mom asks her to do.”

“Sometimes I wonder at your dad and how he takes in every wounded creature he finds.” Micah stood and placed the new blades on the counter.

“Well, sometimes Jesus went to the sick and sometimes they came to Him. Dad’s always figured that God knew where he was and where he planned to be. All he had to do was keep his heart ready to minister and God would provide the opportunities.”

“I hope this time works out for you guys.”

Peter grabbed the package of blades, quickly asking God for wisdom. “You know, Micah, people can be tough to love. Despite our best efforts, sometimes they choose to walk away from those that can most help.” Peter looked intently into Micah’s eyes. “But even when people make the worst possible decisions, God still considers them worth the effort to love.”

Micah firmed his jaw. His eyes watered slightly as the quiet throughout the store expanded for a long moment. As he quietly nodded, Micah said, “You tell that mother of yours that I’ll be seeing her for Thanksgiving.”