Love Is Patient and A Heart's Refuge (34 page)

Becky bit her lip as she held her father’s gaze. “But what about faith, Daddy? You always told me that I should never enter a relationship with someone who doesn’t believe. Rick has so many questions about God and why there is so much sadness in the world. It’s like he’s angry with God.”

“If he didn’t have questions about God, I would be concerned. But his questions will bring him back to the underlying faith I feel he has. His anger shows that God matters to him. I think it might be up to us to help show him the way back. Questions and anger and all.” Sam smiled down at her. “I think complacent, lukewarm people are harder for God to deal with.”

“And after all this happens, what if he’s still going to leave?”

Sam sighed lightly and stroked Becky’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Then you might have to let him go. Love him and let him go. He needs to find his own way back home.”

Becky resisted that thought. Pushed it away. Could she do it?

T
he ringing of the doorbell broke into the moment and Becky drew reluctantly away from her father’s side. Her father’s words hurt, and she didn’t know if she could face the reality of them just yet.

Her mother answered the door and Becky heard her chatting with someone.

A tall, elderly man stood on the porch. His thinning hair was swept back from wide features. Deep blue eyes held hers, and as his mouth curved up into a smile, Becky felt a tingle of recognition.

Cora turned and drew Becky to her side. “This is my daughter. Becky, this is Colson Ethier. Rick’s grandfather.”

“I can see a family resemblance,” Colson said, reaching out to shake Becky’s hand. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve heard about you.”

“I’m sure,” Becky said with a sharp laugh. “Let me take your coat.”

“That’s okay, I’m not staying long. I have a cab waiting outside. I just want to find out about my grandson before I go to the hospital.”

“He’s pretty banged up. He’s got a few broken ribs. He’s been in and out of consciousness the past twenty-four hours. He also has a badly sprained wrist and bruises. The doctor said it would be a few days before he’s up and around.” Becky listed off the injuries, trying to keep her own emotions in check. It had only been a day and a night since the accident. Guilt still dogged her. It was their fight that had put him in the hospital.

Her mother had come by the hospital and had practically dragged her from Rick’s bedside last night. It was only the endless demands of work she couldn’t pass on to anyone else that kept her away. Otherwise she’d be sitting beside Rick right now, family or no family.

“I came as soon as I could,” Colson said. “Do you think he will see me?”

Becky remembered the only conversation she had heard Rick have with Colson. Rick had been uptight and snappish for a couple of days after that. She couldn’t imagine what a face-to-face visit would be like.

“Of course he would,” Cora said. “You’re his grandfather.”

“An absent one, I’m afraid.” Regret edged his words, echoed by the slump of his shoulders. “Rick and I haven’t always been close.”

“Then this might be an opportunity to remedy that.” Cora’s optimism brushed away Colson’s concerns.

Becky kept her uncertainties to herself. Colson
looked too tired. Too weary to hear her opinions. Rick had never said anything positive about his grandfather.

“Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hello.” He looked around the kitchen with a nostalgic smile. “This home has a fond place in my memories.” He looked back at Becky. “Next time you see your grandmother, say hello from me.”

“Why don’t you stop by her place later and say hello yourself?” Becky said. “She lives in town. I can give you her address.”

Colson hesitated, and Becky went to the desk in the kitchen in that moment, grabbed a sticky note and wrote Diene’s phone number and address on it.

“I don’t know if I’ll have time, but thanks anyway. I’m only staying long enough to make arrangements to get Rick transferred to a hospital in Toronto where I can keep a better eye on him. And as soon as that happens, I’m going to be leaving.”

Becky’s heart plunged. Rick? Leaving?

It was as if her father’s words still hung in the air, so soon did Colson’s pronouncement come after them.

“Well, I’d better get going. I have a lot to arrange.” Then he said goodbye and left. Becky watched him walk slowly down the walk to the waiting cab, her heart skittering.

Rick couldn’t go. Not yet.
Dear Lord, not yet.

Awareness crept over him, tingling, as he slowly rose out of the black again. The pain had dulled but it still hovered, waiting for the wrong move.

He opened his eyes. Turned his head.

Pain flashed through his head, stabbed his eye. Wrong move.

“Hey, there.”

A soft, familiar voice drew his attention up. Becky stood above him, her hands resting on the bed rail, her smile hesitant.

He tried to smile back, but his lips were too dry and cracked.

“Do you want a drink?”

He nodded, and then she was slipping a bent straw between his dry lips. He sucked the moisture in and winced at even so slight a movement.

“Just sleep, Rick. You need your rest.”

“No. I slept enough.” He forced his eyes open. Forced himself to concentrate on her face. So pretty. “What happened?”

“You hit a deer on the highway.” Becky fussed with the sheets across his chest, smoothing them down. In spite of his pain, the motions comforted him.

“My Jeep?”

“Sorry, Rick. It’s totaled.”

He didn’t care. He chanced a movement and lifted his right hand and grasped Becky’s. “Thanks for being here.”

She squeezed ever so gently and covered his hand with her other one.

“How long—” He stopped as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. Becky misinterpreted his grimace and lowered his hand to his side. But he shook his head and tightened his grip on her hand. “Don’t let go. Please.”

“You’ve been in the hospital for two days now.”

Shock pushed him up into awareness and pain followed, biting and sharp. “That long?” Vague snatches of memory drifted through his mind.

He remembered forcing his eyes open for seconds at a time. Seeing Becky standing beside him. Sitting. Sleeping in the chair. Her head on the bed beside him. Always there.

He moved his head again, surprised to see various bouquets of flowers lining the windowsill of his room. “Where did those come from?”

“The staff of the magazine, people from church. My family. Katherine Dubowsky. Our minister. They all came to visit you.”

He frowned, then remembered other voices. People coming and going. One voice praying. The minister. “Why would they do that?”

“Because that’s what people do around here.” Becky walked over to a large fruit basket. “And these came from your grandfather. He was here this morning, but he said you were still out of it.”

Rick just stared at the huge arrangement, wrapped up in cellophane, topped with a red bow.

“I can open it for you,” Becky said.

Rick shook his head, trying to understand. “Were you here when he came?”

Becky fussed with the bow, her agitated movements making the cellophane rustle. “He stopped by the house this morning. He asked me to call him when you were lucid. But I wanted to tell you first.”

Rick remembered another hospital at another time in his life. He was fifteen and getting his appendix out after
a vicious attack at the boarding school. His only visitors were two friends who had skipped school to come and see him. His grandfather had been conspicuously absent.

As he took in the flowers, the cards, melancholy unfurled through his pain. “I’m surprised he bothered to take time out of his busy schedule to come.”

“You’re his grandson, Rick.”

“That only seems to have occurred to him in the past few years.” Rick couldn’t keep the bitter note out of his voice. A reflection of the relationship, or lack of it, that he had with Colson Ethier.

“He seemed sad.”

He caught the fleeting glimpse of sorrow in Becky’s features, but then she was smiling at him. “So how does that happen?” he asked, nodding his chin at the flowers, changing the subject. “I’ve made enemies at the paper, enemies in the community.”

“Not enemies, Rick. Just people who didn’t agree with you. At first.”

“And at second?”

“You’ve been right, as well.”

“That must hurt to admit.”

“You don’t know how much.” Becky’s smile slipped past her serious expression and he felt again the pernicious tug of attraction. The edges of his mind grew fuzzy again. He fought it. Becky was here and he wanted to talk to her. To make up for something he knew was wrong between them.

“You’ve been here before. I remember.”

“Yes, I have.” Then to his surprise she gently feath
ered her fingers over his forehead, brushing his hair back. He sighed at her touch, his memory of the events before the accident scribbling past the sensations he felt.

“We had a fight, didn’t we?”

She only nodded, biting her lip. A tear traced a slight silvery track down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Rick. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He swallowed and closed his eyes again, his thoughts blurring. He fought it. “I shouldn’t have…” He couldn’t remember what he shouldn’t have. Only that a sense of wrongdoing on his part poked through the vague memories of that night. “I want to make things right.”

“It doesn’t matter, Rick. Don’t worry about it.”

Disquiet gnawed at him, and he tried to lift his head. “Please tell me.”

Becky laid her hand on his head. “I will. Later.”

He glanced around, still feeling uneasy. Vulnerable. Two days ago he’d been walking around in charge. Now he lay immobile in a hospital bed, pain trumping thought.

Then he saw the Bible lying on his bedside and he thought of the voices he’d heard. “Can you read to me, Becky. Please? From the Bible?” He wanted to hear her voice reading the same verses he remembered his mother reading to him. “From Psalm 23.”

He heard the faint rustling of pages. Becky cleared her throat and he glanced sidelong at her image, blurred by the swelling in his eye. The muted light softened her features, lit her hair with a warm glow.

“‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…’” she read quietly, her voice soothing, evoking images of care and love. And as she read, a gentle peace stole over him.
He reached out to her and without looking up, she took his hand.

When the Psalm was done, she set the Bible aside. Then to his surprise, she got up and brushed her lips across his forehead. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Don’t cancel anything for me, Becky.”

She smiled down at him. “I’ve canceled everything for you.” And without another word, she turned and left.

“I checked with the nurse.” Gladys Hemple set a plate of assorted squares on Rick’s bedside table. “She said it was okay that you have these.” Gladys smiled down at Rick’s slightly stunned expression. “I love baking, you know. I miss my column—” she gave a light shrug “—but you know, it was time I did something else. I was thinking about that cookbook idea you gave me. I think I’m going to spend some time on that. Never had a chance to with the column and all.”

“That’s great. I think it could be a bestseller.” Rick smiled his most beguiling smile. Becky almost laughed at the effect Rick’s full-wattage grin had on Gladys, in spite of the swelling over his one eye, the bruising on the side of his face. Not that Becky was immune. It was good to see him smiling again. Good to see him sitting up in a chair.

Even though it meant that he would be ready to be moved.

No. Don’t think about that. He’s still here.

Gladys sighed, her hand fluttering over the region of her heart as she returned Rick’s smile. “Well, then, I’d
better be going. You take care, Rick. Look forward to seeing you up and about again.” Gladys gave Rick another quick smile, then left.

“You gotta watch how you hand out the charm, Rick,” Dennis Ellison said, pushing himself away from the windowsill. “I thought we were going to have to get the crash cart for the old girl.”

“Dennis,” Cora said, glancing toward the doorway, “you be quiet now. What if she heard?”

“I’m sure she’s still floating down the hall,” Dennis said with a laugh.

“We better get going down that hall, too.” Cora pulled Becky to her side and laid a quick kiss on her cheek. “Don’t stay too long, now. Colson is coming again tonight.”

Chill fingers of dread feathered down Becky’s spine. Was this the last time she would be seeing Rick? Was he leaving now?

She put on a smile for her mother. “I’ll be along in a bit.”

Cora looked over at Rick. “You take care, too, son. We’re praying for you.”

“Thank you for that.” Rick’s smile for Becky’s mother held a different quality. Almost melancholy. “And thanks for coming.”

“We have to,” Leanne said, with a knowing look at her sister. “It’s the only way we’ve gotten to see Becky the past few days.”

“Don’t stay too long.” Sam echoed Cora’s words, resting his hand lightly on Becky’s shoulder. “You need your rest, too.” He kissed her, as well, then left.

Becky stretched the kinks out of her back. She had taken some papers along in the faint hope that she could catch up on work, but between people stopping by regularly and her waiting constantly for Rick to tell her when he was going to be leaving, she got precisely nothing done.

“That was nice your parents came,” Rick murmured, still smiling.

“Like you’ve said before, I’ve been blessed with a loving family.”

“God has been good to you.”

Surprise flitted through her at his mention of God. But knowing that his grandfather was coming tonight spurred her to boldness. This might be the last chance she would have to talk to him about his faith.

About how she felt.

She pushed that thought aside as unworthy. She was being selfish. Rick’s spiritual well-being was far more important than her feelings for him.

“Last night, you wanted me to read a Psalm to you.” Becky set her papers aside. “Why?”

She heard his slow indrawn breath, but didn’t look at him, afraid her own feelings would be seen clearly on her face. She had to focus. To keep herself free.

“I remember my mother reading it to me when I was a little boy. She always told me that whenever I was alone, I just needed to remember that God was always with me.” He sighed. “I tried to find Him but haven’t been able to. At least until lately.”

Becky looked up at that. Held his steady gaze. “Why is that?”

“Because of you, Becky.”

Time fell away as Becky felt suspended in the moment. She didn’t want to breathe. To think. To do anything to break the wonder.

“You’ve shown me parts of God I didn’t think I’d ever see again. Your family gave me permission to ask questions I still don’t have answers for.”

“You’re not the first child of God to ask questions,” Becky said softly. “My father told me that the Bible is a record of God looking for His people. Going after us. God is in control of this fallen world and even evil, the evil you’ve seen, ends up serving His purpose.”