Joy in His Heart (9 page)

“Oh. Right. It isn’t as if we have guns and I have to worry about you shooting Bambi, right?”

Brian chuckled. “No, in the present circumstances, that’s a little beyond me. We also have enough dehydrated meals for all of us for another two days. If I can come up with some protein to add, we can stretch what we have for several more days. And speaking of eating, suppose I put together something for you, right now.”

Her heart thundered. They’d be out there for
several
more days? As in more than a couple, more than a few.
Several
could even mean a week, couldn’t it? Joy forced
her admittedly feeble mind past her own fear to consider what that meant to the kids. They were still so far from home. She’d failed them so miserably. She shook her head. If she missed a few meals, there’d be more for them. “Not hungry,” she told him.

“There are a few packets of soup, too. How about that?”

She really couldn’t take his kindness right then. “No. Really. I’m not hungry. Not at all.”

Brian sat up and stared down at her, his features once again lit by the fire. He wore his examine-the-bug-under-the-microscope expression. Sometimes, she thought, the man saw too much. And that scared her more than all the miles and miles, and lions and bears, between her and home. She looked away, knowing she wasn’t strong enough to hide her feelings.

Sighing, he said, “Then I’ll leave the water with you. Call if you need help getting up. I’ll be awake a while longer.”

He backed out of the shelter leaving Joy to face another night staring into the darkness. At first, when she heard a guitar, Joy thought the fever had affected her mind. But then the random cords coalesced into the notes of one of her favorite hymns and then Brian’s voice joined the sweet notes. “How our hearts…. long for home,” he sang, stunning her with the simple beauty of his voice. She’d heard his brother sing the song that was written by a local minister as he led worship at his church. But she’d never guessed that Brian’s voice was every bit as wonderful.

With his voice and the notes of the guitar floating on a brisk April breeze, Joy closed her eyes and prayed for their safety and for the night to pass quickly.

She jolted awake, trembling uncontrollably, her teeth chattering as keen morning light filtered into the shelter. She’d slept soundly but somehow felt worse for the night spent in blessed oblivion. The chilled air seemed to cut through the shelter and sink into her bones.

The cold had contracted her muscles and the shivering involuntarily vibrated her injured shoulder. Joy cried out in shock as a monstrous jolt of pain rocketed through her.

“Your pretty lady is crying, Doctor Brian,” Candy called out, as she scampered away from the mouth of the shelter. In seconds Brian darted inside on his hands and knees.

“I wasn’t crying,” Joy protested, her mind clearing a little. But even to her own ears the objection sounded inaccurate. She might not be crying but taking even a breath without shouting out again was proving difficult. “So c-c-cold,” she told him, then gave her teeth free rein to chatter away.

Brian wasted no time piling a sleeping bag and extra blanket on her. He brought her more penicillin and anti-inflammatories and promised she’d feel better soon.

“I’m s-s-sorry to be s-such a b-bother,” she chattered.

“You aren’t a bother, Joy.”

She sighed. “If you s-say s-so.”

Brian raked a hand through his hair and didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he did, she wished he’d just kept his mouth shut. “I wish I didn’t have the idea that you feel guilty for the crash.”

Joy chuckled, a mirthless dry sound she’d hardly had the energy for. She couldn’t fight his kindness and the truth at the same time. “I was the pilot, Bri,” she managed to get out, the warmth of the sleeping bag seeping into her.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“The plane and you were my responsibility,” she protested. “You’re marooned here because of me.”

He sighed. “I was afraid of this. That’s misplaced guilt. You don’t control the weather. Last I heard that’s the Lord’s department. And remember that if we hadn’t been blown off course and then crashed, the kids would still be out here all alone. We both know we’re miles from where anyone thought they’d be. And I’m telling you they didn’t have too many more days in them.

“Dan worried that he had made a mistake in trying to climb the mountain yesterday because it just about did them all in. I told him that the Lord is in control. He is, Joy. You saw the valley and the cliffs. If we hadn’t followed their trail we’d still be up there.

“Remember Psalm 91—‘Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him on high, because he has known My name. He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and honor him.’

“We’re going to be fine. Yes, we’re not in the best shape or position right now, but He knows it and He’s in control. The kids were praying for rescue. I don’t know about you, but I prayed we’d get to the ground safely. We prayed to find them. He’ll continue to honor our prayers for our good. He’ll protect us.”

Joy nodded and closed her eyes. She took comfort from the promises in the psalm, but she also wished Brian would just go away and leave her alone. She swallowed the aching burn of the tears gathering at the back of her throat. Why, just when she’d have told anyone who asked that Brian meant nothing to her, did he have to explode back into her life and do two of the rottenest things he’d ever done to her? Show himself to be such a good and decent man and still be the kind of man she was all wrong for. She could really hate him for both those things.

If only she weren’t so close to admitting she still loved him so much it hurt.

B
rian watched Joy fight tears. It wasn’t good to bottle up emotions the way she did. And, now that he’d spent so much time with her, watching her, admiring her courage and heart, he had to believe that he’d been wrong in his assessment of her early yesterday. She hadn’t become hardened by her life, she’d just gotten better at hiding her feelings.

Why did she always feel she had to act so tough? Since he was currently acting as her doctor and she’d hidden the deterioration of her condition from him, it seemed a reasonable question to ask. Joy’s fever-glazed eyes narrowed and Brian wondered if he’d be sorry he asked.

“I can’t believe you asked me that. You, of all people. You’re the one person outside my family who I ever opened up to emotionally and you tried to use my feelings against me.”

A sick feeling of dread washed over Brian. “Me?” He was to blame? “How did I ever try to use your feelings against you?”

“You tried to make me become someone I wasn’t. Someone I didn’t want to be. Couldn’t be. You knew I loved you. You told me you loved me. Then you told me to change. You told me I had to give up my dream.”

“I did not try to make you into someone you weren’t,” he protested a little hotly. “I wanted to give you a good life. The kind of life my father gave my mother. Maybe even a better one—a better house in a better neighborhood. Certainly a better life than the hard working life your mom had.” He threw up his hands. “Shoot me. I’m a rotten person. I wanted to make you happy.”

Brian realized she’d stopped shivering when she put her good arm out of the covers and said, “Except that your idea of making me happy would have made me miserable. What about my career? You made me feel as if it wasn’t as important as yours and that I’d fail at it. The last thing you said to me after I told you to have a nice life was that you doubted mine would last very long.”

He thought back to that day. She’d looked so cool and above the pain he was feeling, that he’d lashed out. Only now did he understand how good she must have already been at hiding her emotions. Only now did he remember his mother telling him Joy showed pain through anger. Had she been hurt all those years and not only angry?

He was about to apologize when she went on, her voice a little raw and the content a little rambling. “And you thought you should get to decide what a good life for me was. I didn’t want the life your mother had. I
wanted to be me. I wanted you to love me for who I was, not who you thought you could make me into.” She squinted at him, trying to keep her eyes open. “And, hey, what was the matter with my mother’s life, anyway? She loved my father. She loves us and she loves what she does.”

“No, Joy. She doesn’t love hairdressing. I heard her more than once sitting in our kitchen complaining about sore feet, aching hands and rude customers to name a few things. She said if your father made more money, she’d quit that salon in a New York minute.”

Joy frowned as if trying to process what he’d said, then oddly, she giggled. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her giggle. Joy just wasn’t a giggler. Then she affected a purposely thick Philadelphia accent. “Do you know what Mrs. Giurastante wanted today? Hair like wire and she wants it fluffy. She wants it fluffy, let her buy a wig. Woman’s lucky she doesn’t walk out every week looking like she has a steel wool pad on her head.”

Brian laughed at her perfect imitation of Anna Lovell. “Then you knew she wasn’t happy?”

“She loves her job but no job’s perfect. You didn’t sound all that happy with being a doctor yesterday. I imagine there are times when your feet hurt after operating all day just like my mom’s do. As for the Mrs. Giurastantes of the world, I once had a guy charter my plane who was so rude I invited him off the plane.”

“That seems reasonable,” he said mildly, trying to look serious while waiting for a punch line. She didn’t disappoint.

Again she giggled, making him smile in spite of himself. “We were at ten thousand feet at the time.”

“Oh.”

“And I love my life. Do sore feet and kids looking at you like the enemy mean you hate yours?”

“No. I wouldn’t be anything else,” Brian admitted. She’d made her point.

Agitated, Joy kicked away her covers, her fever clearly still raging. Brian was thankful the kids were occupied at the stream fishing so he had the time to take care of her for a while. He reached for the piece of cloth and the water he’d left next to her the night before. After soaking the rag, he swiped it carefully over her cheeks and forehead hoping to cool her down. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“Joy, why didn’t you tell me how I’d made you feel?”

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Maybe I should have but why did I need to? Why did I need to defend my plans? Why didn’t you believe in me as much as I believed in you?”

He honestly didn’t know and that shamed him. He’d failed her so miserably. He wanted her trust—trust in more than his ability to keep her safe on the trail. He’d begun to want her to trust him with her feelings. And he didn’t see how she’d ever be able to trust him that way again. Brian realized at that moment how grateful he was for the opportunity to take care of her and he thanked God for it. It seemed he had a lot to make up for.

“I’m sorry sounds pretty lame,” Brian told her. “Especially since I keep having to apologize. I know this
is late but please believe that I never wanted to hurt you, and that I very much respect you and what you’ve chosen to do with your life.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. “I’m so hot again,” she groaned. “And tired.”

“I know,” he whispered as he continued to bathe her face and neck with the cool water. “The penicillin will kick in soon. Try to rest. That’s the best thing for you.”

For the next several minutes, Brian watched her as she gradually relaxed and sleep took over her features. Regret and guilt weighed him down. He’d never meant to scar her as he apparently had. He continued to bathe her face for a while then folded the rag and laid it on her forehead. He had to check on the boys and Candy and see if they’d caught any fish for lunch. Breakfast had been the last of the protein bars from the emergency packs. But, as he left, Brian looked back and silently made her a promise. He would never again make the mistake of making Joy think she had to prove herself to him in any way. And somehow he’d make sure she knew it.

The children were all still at the stream where he’d left them attempting to fish with the rods he’d cobbled together out of branches and the plastic string and hooks from the emergency packs. Adam, Mike and Chad were fishing quietly.

As he approached, he realized none of the kids had seen him coming. He was incensed to hear Kevin taunting Candy. “Doctor Brian’s going to leave you behind when we go to the plane if you don’t start pulling your weight.”

“No, he won’t,” Candy insisted, her face growing red.

“He said we all had to do equal work,” Kevin told her, smirking.

“I worked hard.” Candy’s deep brown eyes glittered. “Harder than you did.”

Kevin crossed his arms and looked down her nose at her. “You just collected twigs. We found all the firewood.”

“I hate you!” Candy shouted.

Kevin’s eyes actually sparkled as if he was proud of himself and that took Brian aback, though he wasn’t yet sure why. What he was sure of was that he didn’t want to let Kevin’s mean-spirited taunts go on any longer. “Actually, Kev,” he said before the boy could come up with more ways to mentally torture the seven-year-old, “I couldn’t have started the fire without Candy’s kindling. Sometimes little things can be very important.”

Brian walked to Candy and went down on one knee, putting his hands on her shoulders. He wanted her to feel protected without injuring her pride. She reminded him so much of Joy sometimes. “Candy, will you do me a big favor? Would you go over to the camp and watch out for Joy and Dan for me? If Joy gets cold or starts to sweat a lot, come get me. Or if she wakes up and needs help. Same with Dan. Okay?”

Candy’s brown eyes widened. “That’d be like being their nurse!” She nodded vigorously. “I can do that. I can do that real good and be a big help.”

“Good girl, you certainly will be a big help. Run along now and I’ll see you in a little while,” Brian promised and watched her tear across the clearing, then stop
short before crawling quietly into the big shelter to check on her first patient.

Without looking at Kevin, Brian casually asked, “Why do you tease Candy?”

“I don’t know. It’s fun I guess. And nothing’s been fun on this trip so far, that’s for sure.”

“Well, let’s sit down and figure it out.” He gestured a way upstream to a couple of rocks. “You know it isn’t nice,” he said as he settled across from Kevin. “Right?”

“It isn’t like I’m hitting her,” Kevin protested.

“But it isn’t as if you’re being kind either. I noticed your bracelet. You’ve all got them. W.W.J.D. What does that mean to you?”

“What Would Jesus Do,” Kevin said. “We’re supposed to do things like He would. Pastor Harry gave them to us when we started this stupid trip. It’s dumb. I can’t change water into wine, or feed us all from that lousy fish Adam caught, so how can I do things like He would? He’s God and I’m just a kid.”

“Well, no. You can’t perform miracles but you can still do good things. How do you think Jesus would treat Joy?”

Kevin stared at him, his freckled nose wrinkled in thought. “You mean
Candy.
How would Jesus treat
Candy?
Right? You said Joy.”

Brian blinked. Had he really said Joy instead of Candy? Yes, he had. Brian didn’t go in for a lot of psychobabble but that felt like a king-sized Freudian slip to him. “Right. I guess I’m worried about Joy’s fever,” he said, but he had to wonder what else could have made him make such a slip of the tongue. “I’ve been thinking about her a lot,” he added truthfully.

“’Cause she’s hurt and sick and your friend?”

It was Brian’s turn to only shrug in answer. She was hurt and sick but not his friend anymore. “So, how would Jesus treat Candy?” he asked, making sure to get it right this time.

Watching the way Kevin treated Candy was like having a mirror held up to a period of his life that Brian couldn’t brag about. Especially thinking of Joy and how her early life had apparently formed her stoic personality.

And worse, he thought, he was beginning to see something else in the dynamic between the children. Candy was young and female so she was naturally odd man out just as Joy had been in school and the neighborhood and by virtue of being tall, a tomboy and a cop’s daughter.

The Cabot and Fremont kids tended to hang together. Among the two sets of siblings, the two older boys were of a like age as were the two younger ones. Dan was back at camp sleeping in the shelter but last night it had been obvious that Kevin had slept where he did, on Brian’s far side, because no one had thought to ask him to bed down next to them. Brian had been left out among the neighborhood boys because of his love of books and school and he’d endured a lot of ribbing in a city public school because of his good grades. Like Brian, Kevin must feel left out and pretty bad about himself.

That spark of pride he’d seen in Kevin’s eyes when Candy got upset seemed to indicate that making Candy feel badly about herself made Kevin feel better about
himself. An uneasy feeling moved through Brian. How had he never seen it before? He’d spent years bolstering his own ego at the expense of Joy’s. He’d been right earlier. He
had
been a rotten kid.

Pushing personal thoughts away for later self-examination, Brian eyed Kevin. “You’re kind of quiet, Kev. So what do you think?”

Kevin grimaced. “I don’t think Jesus would tease her,” the boy admitted.

“Why? Besides that it’s wrong, I mean.”

Kevin shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s mean maybe?”

“Sure is. Then why do you do it? Because the others don’t include you? Does seeing her react to your teasing make you feel better?”

“Maybe. I guess.”

“Suppose you try doing something constructive to help you feel good about yourself instead of hurting a little girl. That isn’t very manly, is it?” Kevin shrugged again and looked at the ground, clearly ashamed of himself. “Do you want me to talk to the brothers about including you more?”

“No, I’m a real klutz. I’d just get in their way.” Slump-shouldered, the boy stood and started to walk away.

“We still need more wood. We’ll be here for a few days,” Brian suggested.

Kevin nodded. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll get more wood. There’s still plenty out there.”

“Good. Just keep the camp in sight,” he reminded the boy as he watched him dig into the task for a few minutes. With Kevin redirected, Brian walked downstream to the fishing trio, who were having only moderate success.

While the boys concentrated on their fishing, Brian turned his thoughts toward the disturbing epiphany he’d just had. He wished he could deny the truth but it was right there staring at him. And what was harder was knowing that he’d had a hand in creating in Joy the need to prove her worth by taking chances with her life. It was a little hard to take on top of learning his teasing of her in their childhood was part of the reason she still went through life hiding behind a facade of false bravado.

He glanced at the camp. “Keep up the good work, kids,” he said with a wave and headed back to check on his patients. He’d have laughed aloud if he wasn’t afraid to insult his new nurse. Candy had helped Joy move out of the shelter and into the light. She’d settled against one of the boulders that dotted the clearing. He’d created a monster if the way the child was fretting over them was any indication.

“Dan, can I get you more water?” she asked solicitously.

“Doctor Brian,” Dan called out when they made eye contact. “Rescue us from Nurse Candy. Please,” he all but begged.

Brian chuckled.

Joy looked up from staring into the fire and saw that Brian had returned to camp. He was leaning against the pile of boulders grinning from ear to ear at Dan’s comment. She was eternally grateful for the presence of both the children. She couldn’t believe she’d told him all the things she’d kept hidden for years. Why couldn’t the fever have silenced her tongue instead of loosening it?