Her Perfect Match (16 page)

“Jack said that, too.”

“He’s very wise, your Jack.”

“I wish he could be.
My
Jack, I mean.”

Holly eyed her with a knowing look. “But you feel too dirty for someone so fine. Is that it?”

“How can he look at me and not see what Jason did?”

“They say love is blind, so believe me, you have nothing to worry about where Jack is concerned. It’s how you feel we need to fix. First, I want you to understand that feeling this way isn’t what God our Father wants for you. In II Corinthians 5:17 Paul says, ‘Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”’

Elizabeth felt as if light had suddenly dawned.
“That’s why I went with Meg. I wanted God to make me feel better. Clean again.”

Holly covered Elizabeth’s hand with hers. “Then you came to the right place, dearie.”

“But I still don’t understand how I’m supposed to make it happen. I went twice and I felt better while I was there but I was still the same afterward.”

“It’s sort of a partnership. You and Jesus. And you have to do something first. You have to ask Him for help. You have to ask Him into your heart. You have to ask forgiveness for any past sins. You have to ask for healing. The rest is up to Him.”

“That’s all?” Elizabeth asked, skeptical. “It sounds too easy.”

Holly’s expression was grave. “You have to really believe, Beth. And it’s not a decision to take lightly because once you make it you’ll start seeing the world differently. Things you accepted as the way things are will bother you. He’ll take over your life.”

“That’s why Jack is so different from other men I’ve met. Right?”

Holly nodded.

“He isn’t the way I always assumed a Christian man would be,” Elizabeth told Holly, feeling a sudden blush heat her face. What if the other woman asked what she meant? She would have to insult Holly’s husband to explain.

Instead of asking or taking offense, Holly chuckled. “You thought Christian men were wimpy? Not hero material?”

Relieved, Elizabeth nodded and went on to explain.
“I was shocked when Jeff Carrington and then Ross Taggert started going to church. They’re both strong men. Like Jack.”

“Like Jesus,” Holly reminded her. “Carpenters in His day had to chop down the tree they built with, and the day of the chain saw was a long way off. I don’t think Jesus was a lightweight.”

“Yesterday Jack was so angry when he got to where Brian Hobart had run me off the road. The police told me Jack had already subdued him when they arrived. Do you think I caused Jack to sin?”

Holly’s ready smile turned gentle. “There’s nothing wrong with righteous anger. Remember while Jesus did say to turn the other cheek, He also emptied the temple of the money changers. And none too gently, either.” Her expression grew serious. “And remember something else. Though under God we have rights, along with every one of those rights comes a responsibility. You’re allowed to be angry but you must forgive. You must admit more than that your assailant was responsible, in order to free you of guilt. You must also face your loss of control and give it into the Lord’s hands.”

“He would have to do a better job than I have,” Elizabeth muttered.

Again Holly’s gentle smile warmed her even as the other woman continued her instruction. “You have to let the Lord cleanse your soul and therefore your body. You can’t metaphorically give Him the dirt you feel soils you with one hand while snatching it back with the other. You have to lay it all at His feet and
walk away whole and cleansed. A new person in Christ. Can you do that for yourself, Beth?”

After Holly Dillon left, Elizabeth thought long and hard about their conversation and her earlier one with Jack about God and faith. She looked up several passages in the Bible Holly had brought for her, but none touched her soul the way that one from Corinthians did. She wanted all the things that verse and Holly and Jack had talked about. And she was ready to face the responsibilities Holly warned her she must.

In the solitude of her little home, Elizabeth prayed the prayer for salvation Holly had outlined for her, and while she didn’t hear angels singing and strumming their metaphorical harps, she did feel an inner peace and a sense of belonging that she hadn’t known since early childhood.

On Sunday morning Elizabeth intended to walk forward and respond if Jim Dillon gave an altar call. Elizabeth knew putting her faith in the Almighty wasn’t a panacea for all her issues. In fact, she and Holly had a lunch date set for Monday so she could begin to work through her problem with trust and her fear of intimacy. But she felt as if she was on the right path at last.

J
ackson arrived at Beth’s door Saturday morning still surprised that she intended to keep their Philadelphia sight-seeing date so soon after Hobart’s attack. He didn’t want her pushing herself too far for his sake, even though it was a beautiful day for sight-seeing. The day was bright, the forecast was for lower than normal temperatures, and Beth greeted him with a smile so radiant it put the bright sun to shame.

“I was going to ask if you’re sure you’re up to this but I guess I shouldn’t bother,” he told her, gazing into her bottle-green eyes, transfixed by the happiness he saw reflected there.

“I’m a little stiff but my head isn’t hurting at all now. Other than the cuts from the glass, I’m nearly good as new,” she promised. “And I have a surprise. I thought we could do a little poking through history on the way to the city. It’s less than a direct route but it’s beautiful there.”

Jackson gestured toward the truck. “Your chariot awaits, ma’am.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir. First stop Valley Forge Park,” she continued when he slid in beside her after closing her door.

Beth was a woman of her word. She directed him into the picturesque national park nearly an hour later, and his Colorado soul found a spot among the rolling Pennsylvania hills to call his own. Valley Forge Mountain might not be the kind of mountain he was used to but it did provide an incredible view of the countryside below.

“I’d say General Washington chose well that winter,” he said as he stood on the promontory and looked over the deep valley. “Nobody was getting up here without him knowing about it.”

Beth’s smile lit the day even brighter. “I thought you’d like it up here.” She pointed behind them then off to the left. “Those are the redoubt forts the Colonials dug, but thankfully they never had to use them. We can go see a few of the cabins next, then circle back to the tourist center. They’ve put a lot of the equipment and weapons the Colonials used on display in there. And there’s also Washington’s headquarters to see.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” he asked as he watched a father help his sons launch an oversize kite. The lightweight fabric craft rose into the sky and joined a variety of others that flew against a backdrop of a cloud-studded blue sky.

Two hours later they were on their way to the city.
Jackson already had a greater sense of the nation’s history than all the textbooks he’d ever read and all the lectures he’d ever listened to had given him. The men had lived through that harsh winter in crude log cabins, many starving to death or dying of disease for the noble cause of unprecedented freedom.

Washington’s headquarters had been older than any building Jackson had ever seen, dating from the early part of the eighteenth century. And the best was yet to come.

Once in Philadelphia they ate lunch on the run bought from sidewalk vendor carts—hot dogs and sauerkraut slathered with spicy mustard and a salty soft pretzel topped with a traditional coat of yellow mustard. Both were a must, according to Beth. Jackson, wanting to steep himself in her environment, went along with her every suggestion and was glad of it.

They saw the Liberty Bell in what she called its “new” pavilion, though he learned the bell had been moved there from its traditional home in Independence Hall in 1976 for the increased traffic the Bicentennial brought to the city. He guessed when a city had over three hundred years of history, the twenty-five-year-old pavilion would be considered a new addition. And now plans were being put forward to move it again to increase security.

Next they moved to Independence Hall. At first its steeple had Jackson thinking they were approaching a church from across Independence Hall. But then he took in the whole building, and the pictures he’d seen
of Independence Hall came to life. Jackson left knowing he’d seen the place where liberty was born.

For the next four hours, Beth, the park guards and tour guides brought the history he loved so much to life. One of the places that stood out from others was Carpenters’ Hall, a beautifully constructed artisans’ meetinghouse that had once housed the First Continental Congress.

They sat and had a cool drink at City Tavern where the first and second Congressional delegates often met. Next they visited Old Saint Joseph’s Church where legend holds that local Quakers surrounded their fellow Philadelphians to keep them safe from an angry mob in defense of liberty and their right to worship in the Catholic tradition as they saw fit.

On their way to Elfreth’s Alley, he and Beth came upon the Betsy Ross house, where tradition said the nation’s first official flag was sewn. Jackson was fascinated by Elfreth’s Alley when they reached it. It was a perfectly preserved street of privately owned Colonial homes, and their journey felt more like a three-hundred-year step back in time than part of a modern-day walking tour.

By then his stomach was shaking hands with his backbone and his feet had had about all they could take of concrete pavements. He hadn’t heeded Beth’s warning and had worn his boots, eschewing what she called sneakers and back home they called tennis shoes. Beth pretended to be unsympathetic, but she laughingly took pity on him. She soon had them in
the heart of Chinatown and sitting in a wonderful Asian restaurant.

He found a steak on the menu, and Beth ordered a sushi sampler. It wasn’t long before he was ordering another sampler for them to share since he’d eaten half the raw fish delicacies off Beth’s plate. And he’d been so sure he could never get even a bite of one down.

It was a full and wonderful day, and Beth was still teasing him about his steak doggie bag when they got to her little carriage house well after dark. They’d no sooner gained her cozy parlor when someone pounded on the door at the bottom of the steps they’d just mounted.

Hoping Hobart somehow hadn’t found a sympathetic judge, Jackson frowned. “I’ll get that while you take care of serving up that coffee you promised to go with these Italian pastries you walked my feet off to get. You plumb wore this cowboy out today, little lady,” he teased, seeing her worry as she peered toward the door where the insistent knocking sounded again.

“I’ll get it,” he told her again, and went to the door.

Jackson was surprised to see her parents standing on the other side of the door when he lifted the curtain aside. The mutinous expressions on their faces had him wishing he was only facing a furious Brian Hobart again. Determined to ease troubled waters, he pasted on an attempt at a smile and quickly opened the door.

“Mr. Boyer. Mrs. Boyer. Beth was just about to make us some coffee to go with some pastries we picked up in Philadelphia today. Come on in. There’s plenty to go around.”

The bottom of the stairs afforded only a small foyer that wasn’t big enough for three, so Jackson turned and led the way up the steps, calling a request for Mr. Boyer to close and lock the door.

Jackson heard Reginald Boyer grumble, “Nervy upstart.”

“You can relax, Beth,” he called toward the kitchen. “It’s your parents.” He knew the news was more than likely no less unwelcome for her than it had been for him. “Why don’t you make a few extra cups of coffee?” he continued in the same conciliatory vein he’d adopted with the middle-aged couple.

“See here. We didn’t come here to socialize with the likes of you,” Reginald Boyer blustered.

“Then what did you come here for, Father?” Beth demanded as she stepped out of the kitchen. “I believe this is a first. Mother usually calls me to come up to the big house when she feels the need to connect with me.”

“If you wouldn’t choose to live in the servants’ quarters, I wouldn’t make myself so scarce. As for why we came here, after that last visit, I assumed you would ignore my invitation,” Louise Boyer said, nose in the air as if she smelled something offensive.

Jackson was tempted to check his boots but knew it was his presence she found so disagreeable.

“You would have been right,” Beth agreed.
“What did you want to talk to me about that was so urgent you broke precedent to come to the servants’ quarters?”

“Your father intends to close the deal on this portion of land in a day or so. We came here today to warn you that you’ll have to move back into our house soon. And just so there is no misunderstanding,
he
will not be welcome.”

There was no question who
he
was.

Beth didn’t blink. She’d clearly been weighing her options all along. Calmly, as if inviting her parents to tea, she warned, “Try selling to that developer, and I’ll take you to court. I’ll let everyone know what you did with Maggie’s pension, why I live here and why I don’t feel I can afford to live anywhere else.”

“You wouldn’t do that to your own father.”

“Don’t bet the farm, Father,” Beth said, never flinching. “It wouldn’t be a wise investment.”

Her father looked dumbstruck but Louise Boyer was clearheaded enough to go on the attack. “What has happened to you? We know all about that incident yesterday. This simply cannot go on. Your association with that horrid group of women is bound to get out. Can you imagine the scandal if it becomes general knowledge that you consort with the homeless every day?”

Beth’s jaw hardened. “The women at the New Life Inn are homeless through no fault of their own. And the man who attacked me yesterday was driving a sixty-thousand-dollar luxury car.
He
was the lowlife, not his poor frightened wife.”

“And I want to know what
this
lowlife is doing here on my property,” Reginald Boyer demanded, coming out of his stupor on the attack.

Gritting his teeth, Jackson moved toward the stairway, not wanting to make this scene worse for Beth and thinking if he left she might be able to salvage some sort of relationship with her family. “I’ll give you a call—”

“Jack Alton, don’t you dare move a muscle!” Beth ordered, then turned furious eyes on her parents. “This man is my friend.”

“What on earth does he have to recommend him? Cole Taggert was bad enough with his past but at least he’s from an old respected family. This…this cowboy is only Laurel Glen’s foreman, for pity’s sake,” Mr. Boyer snarled with a sideways look that might well have struck Jackson dead if such a thing were possible.

“He cares about me, and I care about him. What else he has to recommend him is that he’s a good, God-fearing man who more than likely saved my life yesterday.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, Elizabeth. It doesn’t become you,” Louise Boyer snapped, crossing her arms and stiffening her shoulders.

“Elizabeth, your mother’s just worried you’ve trusted the wrong man again. You admit you did exactly this once before and nearly brought disaster down on our heads.”

“Well, now, that kind of tears it,” Jackson said, moving from the stairs to stand next to Beth. “I was
determined to keep my peace and not annoy either of you since you’re Beth’s parents. But now I see my mistake. I’d heard it takes more than biology to make a parent, and you two could be poster children for the idea.

“You were both so worried about your standing in the community that you sacrificed years of your daughter’s peace of mind and happiness with your self-centered rhetoric. A monster kidnapped and raped your little girl, and all you could do was blame her for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Is every victim of crime at fault or just your child?”

“You can’t talk to us like that,” Reginald Boyer said.

“Someone needs to, and it might as well be me since I care about her. Something I’m not sure can be said of either of you.”

Beth put a restraining hand on his forearm. “It’s okay, Jack. I can handle this. Jack is more than welcome in my home and I’m saying it again—if you try to sell this carriage house out from under me, I’ll take you to court and air our dirty laundry in public. And please know that I mean every word. Now, my friend and I were just about to have a nice cup of coffee and some pastries. You may either sit down and be civil or you may leave.”

“Elizabeth, think of the scandal if it becomes known that he’s living here with you. He isn’t our kind.”

“Now wait a minute, Mrs. Boyer.” Jack ground the words out. “I am not living here and I’m insulted
for both Beth and myself that you would assume such a thing. Yes, I stayed here Thursday night but only because Beth has a concussion. And, by the way, thank you so much for asking after your daughter’s health, she’s going to be fine.”

Beth seemed spellbound when her mother opened her mouth to respond to his newest indictment. Then a surprising thing happened. Louise Boyer blushed scarlet, turned and marched down the stairs and out the door. She returned for just a second. “Come along, Reginald. Elizabeth has made her decision.”

Without a blink of an eye, Beth’s father turned and followed his wife out of the carriage house.

“And I always thought my father ruled the roost,” Beth said.

“Apparently, honey, you were wrong. I’m sorry if you’re annoyed that I spoke up. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. That crack about Lexington really frosted me.”

“It’s okay. I’m not at all angry. Thank you for defending me. It’s what they should have been doing all along. Isn’t it?”

Jack nodded. There seemed nothing else to say so he hugged her.

“Let’s have our coffee and try to put this behind us,” she said, her suggestion muffled against his chest. “This won’t change my life in the slightest. I see now that my parents have been nothing more than an annoyance to be dealt with for years. It’s time I gave up trying to appease them.”

“But they are your parents. I don’t want you having to choose me over them.”

Beth stepped back from him and gifted him with a watery smile. “You don’t mourn what you never had. They were never more than demanding guardians. You were right. They were never parents. I have a Father in heaven and I’m pretty sure He will do just fine for me now that I know I can go to Him for comfort and to ask His advice.”

Such joy bloomed in Jackson’s heart that he blinked back tears. He gathered her in his arms and swung her in a circle. “You understand! Praise the Lord!” he shouted and kissed her.