His Winter Rose and Apple Blossom Bride (34 page)

“How does that tie in with faith?” He didn’t get where she was going.

“When I get up in the morning questions run through my mind—what if this happens? What if that comes about? That’s fear. They’re little threats I’ve been feeding myself for years. If I’m not careful about this, something bad will happen. If my parents divorce, my life will be ruined. If I leave, my dad will suffer.”

Her face glowed with newfound knowledge. Michael could see confidence growing in the way her body stance changed. She was beautiful.

“I taught myself to believe the worst would happen and then the panic started. Even when I should have moved on from the divorce I couldn’t because I let the fear remain and it kept growing.”

He’d never thought of it that way, but now Michael began to apply her ideas to his own life. Is that what he was doing—letting doubt make it impossible to reach his own goal by suspecting God’s will for him?

“The fear came because my thinking was wrong, not because what I felt was true.” Her eyes widened, she stared at him.

“So what you’re saying is—”

“I’ve let myself believe lies. I told myself lies and I believed them because I was afraid of what might happen. And I think I know why.”

“You want to share?”

“Yes, though it might sound jumbled.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just talk.”

In her excitement, Ashley rose, paced across the room and back.

“When I was eight my grandmother came to visit one summer. It was the only time. My parents must have been having problems even then because I recall my mother weeping a lot whenever Dad was gone.”

“Go on.”

“One night I couldn’t sleep. We were having a heat wave that summer. I don’t remember where Dad was, but he wasn’t home. I could hear voices. Mom and my gran were on the back deck talking—my window was open. I sat on the window seat and listened to them.” She jerked to a stop. Her whole body went still.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. No.” She peered at him through the waning light. “Gran was talking.”

“About what?”

She looked at him, her face pale. “I don’t know. I only remember she said, ‘It will ruin Ashley’s life, tear apart her world. She’ll never recover.’ I was so scared. I got back into bed and lay there awake for a long time.”

She paused, stared at him.

“I kept expecting something bad to happen. Maybe my parents were sick or I was. But nothing happened. Not all summer. I left for school dreading leaving here.”

“And that’s when the fear first began?”

“I think so.” She stared into the distance, remembering. “I wrote tons of letters that winter. Everything seemed okay. Time went by. Nothing changed—nothing I noticed.”

“Maybe you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe. Anyway, I remember I came home for Easter. I was thirteen that year. That’s when they told me.” Her face lost all color. “It was the same day that a man grabbed me, t-tried to abduct me.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He wrapped his arms around her, held her shaking body until she finally went still. “That’s when the fear really grabbed hold, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She lifted her tear-stained face, met his gaze. “My mother insisted that I’d made the whole thing up. I was a bit of a drama queen back then.”

He brushed the tears from her cheek, stung by her sad little smile.

“She said I’d make them a laughingstock if I told people. She insisted I forget about it. So when the police couldn’t find anyone who looked like the man I saw, I finally decided I must have dreamed it.” She gulped. “I pushed the memories down, but I still had the nightmares.”

“What did she say about the nightmares?”

Ashley shook her head. “I never told her or Dad. I thought that if I didn’t make waves, if I was perfect, that somehow I could fix whatever was wrong between them. Because I knew. By then I knew my world was falling apart.”

Michael waited until she’d regained her composure, had drawn away from him. Then he asked the question uppermost in his mind.

“So did it really happen, Ashley? Or did you imagine it?”

She kept her head bent, never flinched, never moved a muscle. Her voice emerged whisper-soft, begging him for an answer.

“I’ve got a better question. If it never happened, how come I keep seeing that same face, seventeen years later? How come I’ve only ever seen it here, in Serenity Bay?”

Chapter Nine

“I
’m sorry. I don’t seem to have shed the drama-queen image yet.”

Ashley drew a tissue from her pocket, dabbed at her face, embarrassed that she’d dumped her woes all over him.

“Don’t.”

She forced herself to look at Michael, saw only tenderness in his eyes. A trickle of relief flickered through her. He seemed to understand.

“Tell me how faith figures into this.”

“Well,” she drew a deep breath. “If I believe God is there, helping me, then I have to believe that He will send what I need. The Bible says He’s a rewarder of those who seek Him. That I’m to walk in faith, that I should ask in faith.”

“Agreed.”

“Asking means I expect God to do something. I might not see it yet, but I believe it will happen. That’s faith.” She waited for his nod. “But the thing is, when I let myself worry, when I see how wrong things are, I focus on fear. And that’s what prevents my progress on this path of faith.”

Michael leaned against the wall, frowning.

“So buying this house, changing it into something good is...what?”

“It’s my way of saying I believe God has something wonderful in store for me. That I may have been stuck on what-ifs but I’m changing that to what-could-be. I’m going to start living in this moment, here and now, and stop worrying about what might happen.”

“Good for you.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see that man again. If I do, I’ll deal with it. With God’s help. But today I’m moving on.”

Michael pushed away from the wall, walked toward her. He stopped when he was just a few inches away. Though he never touched her, his voice reached out to wrap her in a gentle hug of support.

“Do you know how strong you are, Ashley? It takes a lot of nerve to face your fears, to put your ideas into actions. I admire your courage.”

“I haven’t succeeded yet, so don’t congratulate me too soon. The pit of my stomach is still fluttering with nerves. But I think this place—” she waved a hand around “—might be my first turning point. Thanks for coming with me.”

“I’m glad you chose me.” He glanced at his watch. “Can I take you out for dinner to celebrate?”

The idea held instant appeal. Ashley nodded, then paused. “What about Tati?”

“It’s Friday. My mother picks her up from day care and the two are together until tomorrow morning. I think it’s facials this week.” He wrinkled his nose as if the idea of plastering goop on his cheeks was abhorrent. “And maybe pedicures, too. I didn’t pay a lot of attention.”

“Hmm, maybe I should join them,” she teased. “I haven’t had a pedicure in ages.”

“Aw, come on! What if I throw in a movie. That new chick flick is in town.”

“I saw it with Piper last week.”

“Oh.”

He looked so disappointed, Ashley had to laugh. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Michael.”

“Me, too.” His smile hit her squarely in the chest. “Let’s go, Ms. New Property Owner.”

“I have to make a stop first,” she said when they were in her car. “My landlord shipped my skis and I have to pick them up at the freight office.”

“You’re going skiing?”

She frowned. “Uh-huh. I was going to ask you if I could teach Tatiana.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Of course not. Why?”

“Ashley. Dear, sweet Ashley.” Michael’s knowing smirk made her frown. “I love my daughter very much but she’s about as inept as a kid can be. Whatever genes Carissa passed down, grace wasn’t one of them. Put Tati on a ski slope and I can’t guarantee you won’t be wearing crutches with your bridesmaid’s dress.”

“She’s not inept. She’s just—” How to put it delicately? “A bit awkward.”

“A
bit?
” He hooted with laughter. “There is none so blind as she who will not see.”

“Well, I’d still like to teach her to ski.” She pulled up beside his mother’s café. “And I don’t know where we’re going to dinner so I’m stopping here.”

“Not here,” he begged, after one quick look inside. “Please?”

After a glance at his face, she moved farther down the street. “Is this all right?”

“Better.” He took a quick look behind them. “My mother has this cook. Her skill as an interrogator exceeds her skill as a chef, which is very good. Better I don’t give her anything to grill me about.”

“Oh, good pun.” Ashley chuckled at his pained look. “Where shall we go then?”

“How about the steak house just outside of town? You could drop me at the school on the way and I’ll pick up my car.”

“Okay. Do you mind if I stop at the depot first?”

He shrugged so Ashley parked in front of the delivery building.

“I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

Michael got out, and walked beside her. “I’ll carry them.”

“Thanks.” Once the skis were safely stored on her roof rack, Ashley headed for the school. “I’m probably not supposed to say this, but I hope it snows soon.”

“Weren’t you the one who went off the road not too long ago?” he asked, tongue-in-cheek.

“Yes, but I wasn’t prepared. Besides, it was too early for us to have snow then.”

“In my opinion, it still is. Thanksgiving is barely past.”

“How did the pumpkin cakes go over, by the way?”

“Wanda said they didn’t look exactly like pumpkins but they tasted all right,” he repeated in a squeaky imitation of his daughter.

“Faint praise indeed.” Ashley chuckled. “I’d like to meet this discerner of pumpkins.”

“Hang around with Tati for long and you probably will. By the way, you should know that Wanda can ski like a trouper.”

“Ah. What about you?” He ducked his head, avoided her glance. “Michael? What did I say wrong?”

“Nothing, but I, uh— My daughter comes by her clumsiness naturally, I’m afraid.” He sighed when she didn’t give up. “I’m a klutz on the ski hill, okay?”

Ashley giggled at his embarrassment. She was still enjoying his discomfiture when she stopped beside his car.

“No problem. I’ll teach you both,” she offered. “I used to instruct years ago. I’ve taught all kinds of klutzes.”

“That’s very kind but—we’ll see.” He scrambled out of her car a little too quickly. “I’ll follow you to the restaurant, okay?”

“Okay.” His rush to leave made her smile for the rest of the drive.

Since they were a bit early, they had their choice of tables to choose from. Michael chose one beside the fireplace, a table for two tucked into a little alcove. Once they’d ordered, Ashley posed the question uppermost in her mind.

“What do you do with your spare time? If you have any, I mean. Do you have a hobby?” She fiddled with the napkin, wishing that hadn’t come out sounding quite so nosy.

“Truthfully?” Michael smiled. “There isn’t a lot of time to spare when you’re a single parent.”

“I don’t imagine so. But you have tonight and tomorrow. You must have something you want to do. And your evenings, when Tati’s asleep. Surely you don’t spend all of them checking school work?”

“Not all, no.”

It was obvious that he didn’t want to tell her. He avoided looking at her, kept his focus on the table.

“Okay, then. Maybe I should change the subject.” His snub hurt, especially after she’d shared so much with him. “Your mother told me you lived in New York. You said you studied there. Did you like it?”

He nodded and his face brightened.

“I liked the convenience of having everything accessible without the long drives to Toronto that we have here. The galleries, the plays, the energy—it seems to spark something creative inside, you know?”

“Some cities have a way of doing that.”

“After a while it wore a bit thin, though. I guess I’m a country boy at heart. And then with Tati—well, I needed a job and I figured having Mom nearby couldn’t hurt. The Bay just seemed like the perfect place.”

“Tati’s adjusted well. She seems to have accepted you and Serenity Bay as her home.”

“For the most part. She still asks the odd question about her mother, but mostly she’s busy and happy.” He met her steady gaze. “I’m sorry if I seem rude, Ashley. It’s just that I don’t have a very interesting life. Let’s talk about the wedding. You do know I’m Jason’s groomsman?”

He was putting her off and Ashley didn’t understand why. Did he think she was getting too familiar? Asking too much? But he was the one who’d suggested dinner.

“I know. I think it’s going to be a lovely wedding. Jason’s taking her to the Caribbean on a honeymoon cruise for two weeks, but don’t tell Piper. He had to tell me so I can pack a suitcase for her. She thinks they’re going to Toronto.”

“Good for Jason.”

“I want to plan a shower, a couples’ shower. But I’m not really sure how to arrange it.”

“Why not ask someone at the church to help? They’re both well known there, the fellowship hall would work and you could make it an open invitation.”

“But I barely know anyone there. Besides, I want to surprise them.”

“You can still do that. Why don’t you talk to my mother? She’s good at arranging stuff like this. You give me the date and time and I’ll make sure the happy couple are both there.”

“I appreciate your help, but if you’re too busy—”

“I want to help, Ashley. They’re my friends, too.”

“Okay. Thank you.” She pulled a calendar out of her purse. “I thought it should be before Christmas, maybe even before the party season really gets underway. Everyone gets booked up fast at Christmas.”

They chose a date, discussed decorations, games and a way to contact everyone without the couple knowing.

When the meal was over, Ashley was delighted to have her plans solidified, even more delighted when thick fluffy snowflakes began to tumble to earth as they left the restaurant.

“If this keeps up, skiing lessons will be sooner than you think.” She clapped her hands together. “Just think, father and daughter, sharing a new healthy experience.”

His one look said a thousand words.

“It’ll be fun.”

“Sure it will.” His face brightened. “If I’m to share this fun, I think you should share some new experiences, too. Do you know how to snowshoe, Ashley?”

“No. It’s never been a priority living in Vancouver.” She stared at him. “Why?”

“Two students of mine have challenged me to race them in the winter festival. Snowshoe racing. I need a partner.” He clapped a hand on his hip, his smirk daring her to refuse. “Well?”

“I’d love to learn,” she told him, then raised one eyebrow. “If you have time?”

“Touché.” He tapped the end of her nose with his finger. “Thanks for sharing my dinner. I enjoyed it.”

“I did, too. And thanks again for going through the house with me.” Ashley paused at the side of her car. “I appreciate you listening to me. It helped.”

“It helped me, too.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to push ahead and practice a little more faith in my own life.”

What did that mean?

He moved forward, pressed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss that could have meant so many things. “Good night, Ashley.”

“Good night.” Half bemused, she climbed into her car, waited while he got into his. He followed her back to town, then they separated.

Ashley was halfway to Piper’s when she noticed the letter. She pulled over, picked it off the floor of her SUV and read his name. Michael must have dropped it. Maybe it was important. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse. She turned around, drove toward his home.

Michael’s car wasn’t visible when she arrived but car tracks in the dusting of snow led to the garage and the house lights were on so she assumed he was inside.

Leaving the motor running, Ashley collected the letter and walked toward the door. It hadn’t completely closed. She stretched out her hand to knock but his voice stopped her.

“No, I haven’t told Ashley, Mom, and I’m not going to.” He sounded angry, frustrated.

Ashley wanted to turn and run away, but her feet seemed frozen to the stairs. He was speaking again.

“I know you mean well, but if I can’t make it on my own, my carvings don’t mean anything. Ashley’s got money, Mom. She’s at home in the art world. Sure, she could be a great help, but she might also hate my work and not want to tell me the truth. I don’t want her involved. If I do this showing, I’ll do it on my own. Without her interference.”

Ashley stepped back as if she’d been struck. She glanced around, saw the mailbox at the edge of the drive. Without a second thought she climbed into her vehicle, drove up beside it and tucked the letter inside. Then she drove away, blocking out all feeling as she rode back to Piper’s.

She made small talk with her friend for a few minutes, watched a comedy they both loved and then excused herself for bed. But once she was in her room, the questions wouldn’t stop.

Michael hadn’t told her about his “hobby” because he didn’t trust her. She wondered for a moment what he did, then pushed that away as the pain hit. She was falling for a man who thought she’d interfere.

Once again she’d chosen the wrong man to give her heart to. Michael Masters didn’t want her
interference
in the part of his life that mattered so much he kept it a secret.

No one at school had mentioned his carving, she’d seen no sign of it around town. No one in the artists’ guild had said anything. Why was it such a secret—especially when she’d shared hers with him? If he couldn’t tell her about something he loved, what else was he hiding?

Ashley sank onto the big plushy bed in Piper’s home and wondered how long it would take for this hurt to go away. Her gaze fell on the Bible she’d left beside her bed, to the section where she’d left off reading in Corinthians:
For we walk by faith, not by sight...

“This, too, God?” she asked.

Faith.

Bowing her head, Ashley prayed for the courage and faith to rest in God’s promise to keep her safe.

* * *

The couples’ shower was everything Ashley had hoped it would be.

At least that’s what Michael thought. He stood in a corner, watching her lead a game that soon had the room erupting in laughter. He could feel the distance between them even though she’d barely glanced his way.

She’d been cool, standoffish, busy for weeks now. Piper explained it away by saying she’d once again seen the man she was so afraid of. That she’d attempted to follow him this time made his blood run cold. He knew she wanted answers, but to go it alone—