Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel) (21 page)

That night after their first session—without Reece—and after the new students had settled into their cabins, Dana sat at the fire pit and stared at the coals as the last of them winked out. She lifted her gaze at the sound of shoes on the stone path to her right. Doug.

“May I join you?”

“Of course.”

He sat next to Dana, hands clasped, concern etched on his face.

“You knew this would happen to Reece, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know.” He sighed. “But yes, I suspected.”

“Why weren’t his eyes healed here if they were healed there?”

“I don’t know, Dana. But I do know this is not the final chapter of any of our stories.”

The Friday, Saturday, and Sunday sessions went well. There were breakthroughs for almost all of the students and Reece took part in every class. If he had been taken down by what happened—what didn’t happen to him—nothing in what he said or did showed it. But still, he didn’t seem himself.

Ninety percent of the trainees committed to being prayer allies and starting their own groups when they got home. On Saturday night Reece spoke powerfully about going deeper in the Spirit and where the students needed to go from here. But while his words resonated, the fire behind them had gone dim.

As the last of the cars with the trainees in them pulled out of the ranch on Sunday late morning, Dana turned and walked north along the river. She needed to get away. Find a slice of silence to sit in and let the intensity of the past three days slide off of her, along with the fear Reece’s eyes would never be restored.

By the time she’d gone one hundred yards she felt better. By the time she’d gone two hundred a sense of hope welled up inside. It wasn’t over yet, and until it was, she would keep praying for the healing of Reece’s eyes and believing it would happen. She took five steps off the path toward the river to watch the currents as she prayed.

“Hey!”

Dana spun at the sound of the voice. Brandon sat twenty yards to her left behind three pine trees, smiling at her—the same smile that melted her heart when they’d first met. Ugh. She was not going to go there even for a second. She’d been down that path so often in the past year her footprints were stamped on the trail like concrete.

She was done with Brandon forever. She’d told him that. She meant it.

“Want to talk for bit?”

No, she didn’t. Yes, she did. Why did she have to be so schizophrenic when it came to him? Probably the curse of once being in love with the idiot.

“Sure, why not.”

TWENTY-SIX

“D
O YOU THINK WE
’
LL SURVIVE WHEN WE GO AFTER THE
Wolf?” Brandon said as Dana shuffled toward him.

“Survive the Wolf?” Dana sat next to him and let out a puff of laughter. “I’m focused on recovering from the past four days.”

He knew how she felt. The last of the new trainees had left the ranch an hour ago. It had gone extremely well. Each of the four retreats they’d done over the past year had brought great freedom and healing to the men and women who had come, and this one was no different. But the training left him feeling like an air mattress after all the air had been expelled.

He turned from his view of the river below and lifted his hand to block the late afternoon sun flowing around Dana and into his eyes. She sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, light brown hair pulled back and tied up with a red scrunchie. No makeup. No need for it. She was beautiful.

“I agree.” Brandon stared at her eyes, hoping she would turn and look into his. “It’s exhilarating and exhausting at the same time.”

The sound of the river soothed him as if God were washing away the dirt that seemed to cling to his soul after every training session was over and the new recruits had gone home. Reece said the enemy tried to spread fear and sin to them like a virus from the people they were training and setting free, so there needed to be a time of restoration and refreshment. Brandon didn’t understand
the theology behind the statement, but he did know he felt like he needed time to detox every time after they were done and it seemed Dana felt the same.

He turned and looked at Dana again till she returned his gaze. “Do you ever wish you could go back to the way your life was before Well Spring?”

She shifted and drew her finger along the pine needles they sat on. “Yes and no. Do I wish we weren’t the ones leading the charge into a battle that probably won’t end till we die? Yes. Do I wish I could slip back into the chains I wore before coming here a year ago? Not a chance. What about you?”

“Same. But there are some things I’d like to go back and do differently.”

“Such as?”

Maybe someday he’d tell her. Not now. It would still be a long time before he stepped into that rowboat. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t explore the condition of the oars.

“How’s Perry?”

Dana picked at a spot of pitch on her hand. “Are we going to get into this again?”

“Not at all.” Brandon raised his palms in surrender. “I’m genuinely asking.”

She frowned. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Hey, don’t believe me. It’s fine.” Brandon watched a leaf move from as far up the river as he could see till it disappeared downstream before he spoke again. “Are you worried about Reece? Do you think he’ll be okay, that he’ll make it through this?”

“He’s probably good.”

“You think so? It helps to hear you say that, because to get his sight back, then come out and discover he didn’t get healed. Wow.”

“Perry is probably good. Once I told him there was no chance of anything more between us than friends, he stopped calling.”

“What?” Brandon turned and grinned. “Sorry, I thought you were answering my question about—”

“I know.” She offered him a rare smile and her green eyes danced like they used to in the age when they’d been together. “I figured that out.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“I’m teasing.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Yes, I’m worried about him.”

“Why are you worried about Perry?”

“No, I’m not, I’m worried about—”

Brandon grinned. “Now I get to say I knew that.”

They both laughed and leaned into each other, and as they did a shot of adrenaline surged through Brandon. Instantly it felt like it was four years earlier and his engagement ring was still on Dana’s finger, and his resolve not to ask the question till ages had passed melted away. He stared at her till Dana met his gaze.

“I know I’m asking again. The question I’m not supposed to, but do you ever think about us? What might have been if I hadn’t . . . ?”

She dropped her gaze to the ground, then raised it to once again look at the river. “Let’s walk, okay?”

“Where?” They stood and dusted off their jeans.

Dana pointed west and they started out on the trail that led toward the cabins.

“That’s what you’d do differently, isn’t it?” She kicked at sticks and pinecones as they shuffled along the trail leading past the cabins toward the zip lines and ropes course. A team of workers had installed it last fall so students could learn to conquer physical fears in order to face spiritual fears. Reece hadn’t talked about putting in a strip of burning coals. Yet.

The silence between them stretched and Brandon let the subject drop. “Tell me what you’re thinking about Reece.”

Dana stopped, put her hands on her hips, and laughed. “I’m impressed. We’re having a fairly digressive conversation and yet you never lost any of the threads.”

“As you might suspect, I’ve bumped into a few women over the course of my life, so I’ve had practice.”

She frowned at him playfully. “You’re saying women often can’t talk in a straight line?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Dana laughed and walked on. “Yes, of course I’m worried. As mature as Reece is in the faith, you can’t lose your sight and your greatest passion, think you’ve been healed and find out you haven’t, and not have it tear at your mind and push you into decisions you wouldn’t have made before.”

“Have you talked to Doug?”

“A little bit the other night.”

“Did he have any insight?” Brandon blinked. “Sorry, wrong word.”

“Not really, just to pray.”

“You know, we could go crazy and pray for him right now.”

She smiled. “Let’s go crazy.”

They settled down in a small grove of alder trees just past the ropes course and slipped into silence. They’d prayed so often together over the past eleven months neither needed either to start or even pray out loud. After five or so minutes, Brandon opened his eyes and gazed at Dana till she opened hers.

“What did you get? Anything?”

Dana nodded, her eyes wider than normal.

“I’m not liking the look on your face.”

“I kept getting this feeling of imminent danger and a picture of a hockey team.”

“A what?”

“I know, I’ve never even been to a hockey game and couldn’t tell you one team name, but I had a clear picture of one, their uniforms, the colors. I could almost hear the scrape of their blades on the ice, their streaking toward the other team’s goal. It was vivid.”

“The hockey team was in danger?”

“No, not them, but they had something to do with the danger or were the cause of the danger.”

“Wow. Left of left field.”

“Yeah, I know. What about you? Anything?”

“Nothing.” Brandon shrugged. “Except an image of something white.”

“What was the something?”

“I don’t know. It was white. That was it.”

“Like ice? Were you seeing the hockey rink?”

“Sure. Maybe. I have no clue.” Brandon glanced at his watch. “We should go. We’re supposed to be meeting with Reece and Marcus and Doug in a few minutes. Final debrief before we get ready to head home.”

They both rose and ambled back toward the main cabin, listening to a lark bunting warble out an afternoon song. Dana glanced at him, then turned her gaze to a blue sky speckled with wispy clouds.

“I’m not trying to avoid the question. I just don’t know how to answer it.”

“You mean the ‘do you think about us’ question?”

“Once again, I’m impressed.”

“You don’t have an answer, or you don’t want to give it to me?”

“I have an answer, but not one I’m ready to speak out loud.”

“How often?”

“What?”

“How often do you think about us?”

“That’s a different question, Brandon.”

“Yes.”

“With work and Warriors Riding and the healing still going on inside me . . . I try not to think about how often I think about us, or what we used to be.”

They walked the rest of the way back to the main cabin in silence. She hadn’t given him an answer, yet at the same time she had. She did think about the two of them. How often? It
didn’t matter. The two of them came into her mind—and for the moment it was enough to say.

When Dana reached for the doorknob, Brandon put his hand on top of hers and stopped her from opening it. “Dana, I—”

“Don’t ask me about it anymore, okay?” She smiled but her eyes were full of sorrow. “I think about us, yes, but that life is over and I don’t see it ever returning. That part of my heart is gone. I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear, but you and I happened in another age.” Dana sighed and lifted his hand off of hers. “We should get inside. Reece and Marcus are probably wondering where we are.”

She turned the knob and stepped into the cabin. He waited for her to look back, to give him another sad smile or a glance that said she didn’t truly mean what she’d said, but all he saw was the back of her head as she strolled into the cabin and turned the corner into the living room.

“Hey.”

The sound of Dana’s voice filled the main room of the cabin along with the clop of her shoes on the heated hardwood floor. Then Reece heard another pair of shoes. Had to be Brandon since the professor and Doug already sat around the fireplace.

“Glad you two are back. I want to talk about our plan for going after the Wolf. Find out what we’ve all heard from the Spirit. See how and where Jesus wants to take us next.”

Reece heard Brandon and Dana take seats across from each other and a slow sigh from Brandon.

“How is the Song today?”

“He’s doing awesome.”