The Carpenter's Daughter (33 page)

Religious verbiage oozed from his lips and dripped on me like the poisoned nectar it was.

Memories of Cassie assaulted me all week.
Father says we must stay on the path of righteousness, or condemnation will consume us. The penitent person is only blessed when they walk in purity.

Honestly, I had no idea what half of those words meant. But I remembered Cassie saying them as she tried to explain—to
defend
her father’s abuse. All the while I could only focus on the purple bruises coloring her knees, and the scars that lined her arms.

Words like
blessed
and
righteous
and
god
were as ugly to me as anything I’d ever heard in the crass world of construction.

But the untried didn’t know that.

Sarah didn’t know it. She didn’t know what she was stepping into. And so help me, I wasn’t going to nod and smile at a man who could put her in the same bondage that had stolen Cassie’s mind.

No father would.

Sarah came out of her room at seven thirty Sunday morning, dressed like the attractive—no, the knockout—woman she was.

I glared at her above the rim of my coffee mug. “What are you doing?”

She slipped a slice of bread from the Wonder bag and dropped it into the toaster. “Jesse and I thought we’d go check out that little church downtown.”

“What?”

She raised her eyebrows and turned to the coffeepot.

I slapped my mug onto the table. “I knew it.”

Looking over her shoulder at me, she frowned. “You knew what?”

“I knew he wasn’t right.”

She drew a breath and rolled her eyes.

The chair beneath me screeched against the floor as I jumped to my feet. “I mean it, Sarah. Don’t blow me off. A guy like that, he can’t be trusted.”

She turned and leaned back against the counter, her look saying she thought I was behaving like a junior high girl. “Jesse is the most trustworthy man I’ve ever met.”

Including you.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I know exactly what I’m getting into. You don’t know him at all, because you’d rather act like a spoiled bully than give him an honest chance. He’s a good man—”

I leapt forward, slicing the air with my hand. “He’s a religious freak!”

“Whoa.” A man barked behind me. “What’s going on in here?”

Every muscle coiled as I curled my fists and turned. “Get. Out.”

The boy shook his head and looked at Sarah.

“It’s fine, Jess.” Her voice held more irritation than fear.

“I could hear him from the front door.”

I stepped toward him. “I want you out of my house.”

He didn’t move.

“Boy—” I lifted a hand to jab my finger into his chest.

With one hand, he intercepted mine. “That’s enough.”

“Dad, just stop.” Sarah pulled on my elbow, forcing me to look at her. “Why are you acting like this? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

I glared at him and then turned to her. “You don’t know what they’ll do. They’ll mess with your mind, tie you into so many knots you won’t know the difference between sky and dirt. He’s leading you into hell.”

I could see her pulse throb against her neck as she studied me like I belonged in the old institution over in Hastings.

I wasn’t crazy. I’d seen crazy. Crazy was offering your own blood as atonement and spending hours on a concrete floor waiting for some angry god to let you up again. Crazy was sitting in a dark inner room in some church, quaking while some mouthpiece of god roared over your impurities, real or imagined. Crazy was ending your life in a crack house because nothing else could erase the sound of your father’s voice condemning you to eternal fire.

“Dad, you don’t know—”

“I
know
, damn it, Sarah!” I moved to hover over her.

The boy took her elbow and moved her behind him so that he stood in between us.

“You’ll kill her.” My jaw went hard, and I began to shake. “You’ll take her mind piece by piece, and she’ll end up just like her mother.”

His eyes, which had smoldered up until that moment, widened as if confused.

As if he didn’t know.

“Sir.”

“Shut up.” I stepped to the side so I could look at my daughter.

Her eyes glazed, and she mashed her lips together. “Daddy, please…”

I shook my head. “I’m not watching this.” I had to swallow, because I couldn’t let her hear my voice crack. “If you choose him, don’t come back. I can’t do it again.”

Her jaw quivered, and a tear slipped onto her cheek. “Fine,” she whispered. “If that’s how it has to be.”

She drew another long breath and turned her back to me. I’d never forget the sight of her walking out the door.

Jesse

What happened to that man?

I sat in church wondering what to do. I didn’t pay attention to the sermon or to anything else, for that matter. All I saw was Dale’s beet-red face, rage carved deep into his expression. I didn’t know what to do with that.

One moment I was sure I needed to get Sarah out of Minden. Omaha seemed the perfect solution. With that North O project, we had plenty of work to do, and she could stay with her aunt and uncle.

She couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t safe. Dale wasn’t reasonable, and none of it made sense.

But there was part of me that had been woven with a thread of undefined compassion. There had to be something behind Dale’s rage. Anger that fierce didn’t just erupt without having been fueled by something.

What would I do?

Somewhere in the midst of all the wondering, it became clear. She needed to stay, and I needed to step out of the way for a little while. If Sarah lost her dad, she’d lose part of herself, and she’d be devastated. I’d seen how much this war with her dad had been messing with her all summer. If she chose to come with me to Omaha, and I was pretty sure she would, she would definitely lose her dad.

I couldn’t possibly force Sarah to choose between me and the man who’d raised her. I’d never be able to live with it.

Whatever it was driving Dale into this madness was deep and painful, and though the realization was a little on the terrifying side, I was pretty sure Sarah was the only person who would be able to reach into the ache and bring him back.

With the love of Jesus.

Even as this decision (which I didn’t really think I actually made on my own) settled over me, my anxiety climbed.
What if
arguments swirled in my head, and I was pretty sure they were directed at God, because this against-my-instinct plan had to have originated with Him.
What if something really bad happened? What if her dad turned violent, and despite what she said, he actually did hurt her?

I couldn’t live with myself, and frankly, I’d be pretty mad at God.

That small voice, the quiet, peaceful, and yet commanding voice came to me again.

Do you trust me?

For some reason, the more something mattered, the harder it was to trust. I wondered if this was universal. But at that point I was dealing with me, and I had to answer the question. Did I trust him? Yes, I did, but I was going to need some help with that kind of demand-my-whole-heart faith.

Please?

Me trusting God wasn’t the only issue at hand. I had to figure out a way to bring it up with Sarah. As sure as I felt the seat underneath me, I knew that conversation was going to be a fight.

Sarah

Church, lunch, and then home. A someday home, for a someday life.

The run-down farmhouse before me tugged hard on my heart. Nothing had changed in the week since I’d first seen it. Weeds still swallowed the three-acre lot, the roofline of the front porch sagged dangerously, and the windows all screamed
abandoned
.

But not for much longer.

A small smile slowly pulled on my mouth. This could be home, and I could make it amazing. Jesse and I could…

He leaned into me from the side, and the hand that held mine squeezed. “Do it,” he whispered.

My little grin broke into an all-out smile.

His chest moved against me as he laughed. We were crazy. Between his massive project in Omaha and this top-to-bottom renovation we were looking at, we’d be busy for the next two years, at least.

The smile that had just broken free faltered. “Maybe now’s not the right time.”

He pulled away. “What?”

After a long breath and an attempt to put on a positive face, I turned to him. “I want to, but you’ve already told Grant that you’ll be there on Monday to start the North O renos. If I buy this now, it’ll drive me crazy to have it just sitting here—”

Jesse’s mouth twisted, and he shook his head. “Hold on, Sarah. I’ve been thinking about Omaha, and I think you need to stay here right now.”

“What?” My heart dropped.

His hands cupped my shoulders. “You need to be here. I’m going back to Omaha. Alone.”

“No.” I blinked. “No. We were going to do that job together. You said—”

“I know. But that was before I knew your dad, before I saw…” He looked over my shoulder, pulled in a long breath, and looked back at me. “Remember what you said? That your dad needs Jesus? He does, and he also needs you. Right now, I’m in the way, and it’s tearing you two apart. The last thing I want is for you to have to choose between him and me.”

What was happening? My eyes stung. “He’ll get over it, Jess…”

“No. This thing with him is serious. You told me that before this year you two were fine. Close. This morning was not fine, and if you walk away now, you’ll never be able to go back. You’ll regret it.”

“He’s making his choices, and I can’t change that.”

“We make our choices too, Sarah.” His hands left my shoulders and came up to frame my face.

A tear leaked over my cheek.

Jesse rubbed it away with his thumb. “He’s scared of losing you.”

My voice came out ragged. “He’s the one pushing me away.”

“Don’t let him.”

What if in the process of trying to keep my father, I lost Jesse? This wasn’t supposed to be like this. Why were the men in my life tearing my heart in two?

“You have to try, Sarah, and I have to go to Omaha. That’s just the way it is.”

Really? Like I couldn’t make up my own mind. With my spine rigid, I stepped away, and Jesse’s hands fell limp at his sides. I looked away, focusing on the house that had become my new dream. The fantasy faded. It would be work. Hard, dirty, make-me-ache-and-frustrated work.

I wasn’t sure I was up for it.

Jesse

She wouldn’t even look at me. We climbed into the truck, with an icy silence expanding between us.

I should have handled that differently. Except, I didn’t know how. Her dad’s ultimatum had swirled in my mind all morning and into the afternoon. The lunch we bought after church tasted sour in my mouth and sat like a slow burn in my stomach.

My core trembled as we wordlessly drove back into town.
God, please don’t let me make the biggest mistake of my life.

I made the three turns necessary to reach her house and then pulled up to the curb. After setting the truck into park, I looked over to her. She stared straight ahead.

“Sarah…” I reached to touch her face.

She jerked away. “You leave tomorrow, right?”

Air emptied from my lungs, and it seemed that they wouldn’t fill again. “Please, Sarah—”

“Just go.” She stabbed me with a glare before she hopped out of the truck and marched to her front door.

Like father, like daughter? I had no idea what to do with that.

Dale

Jesse’s truck pulled up to the curb somewhere past 4:00 p.m.

Round three.
Or was it ten? The boy was as hardheaded as I was. At that moment, that was all irritating without a trace of admirable. He’d won. Sarah went with him, chose him. Hard anger locked in my shoulders. He had no business coming back here.

A car door slammed, jolting my attention back out the window. Sarah stomped up the walk alone.

That was a twist. One that, for some reason, turned the notch higher on my temper. First sign of trouble, and the boy was going to run.

She’d be better off without him.

I caught a glance of her face. Pain twisted her expression, and when she walked through the door, she went straight to her room.

After two steps toward her room, I switched directions. The punk. I’d kill him.

Just like the coward I’d known he was, he’d already pulled away.

Jesse

My head ached. Not as much as my heart. All this time—ever since we’d met up in Omaha—I thought I understood. God graciously allowed me to be a part of Sarah’s life, used me in His plan for her salvation, and opened the door to my heart’s greatest desire.

Except, not that last part.

Yesterday afternoon flashed through my mind again. The way she looked at me, so hurt and so angry. The hardest thing I’d ever done was drive away, praying that she’d understand and that somehow we’d figure this out. And that Dale would miraculously gain some sense.

After snagging the coffeepot from the twenty-year-old maker Dan kept in his kitchen, I dumped enough black mud to fill my mug and slid the carafe back into place, not caring that it clanked under my none-too-gentle hand. I dropped into the chair I’d tugged away from the table and stared at my unopened Bible.

“Rough night?” Dan’s deep morning rumble came from the archway separating the main part of his house from the two bedrooms.

I cleared my throat. “Guess so.”

I had work waiting for me, and I couldn’t keep putting it off. Omaha, here I come. Without Sarah.

I slouched against the table, my insides sagging as if coated with lead.
Why, God?

No answers. Not that I was owed any. But this uncertainty hurt. A lot.

Dan stepped toward the kitchen, grabbed his own mug, and came to the table. “Bed okay?”

“Yep. Everything has been good.” I sipped the strong brew. “Thanks for keeping me. I’ve gotta get going though.”

Dan’s gaze focused on me. “Going…”

“Got a job in Omaha waiting on me.”

A long, thick pause hung over the table. “Is this about Dale?”

I couldn’t look at him. Or at anything, really. Just the Bible, still unopened in front of me. “I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know what to do.”

Dale

The steel door to the office squeaked open and then slammed shut. I glanced at the clock on my computer. Seven a.m. was pretty early for Dan. Didn’t usually see him till round about eight. No doubt he had more opinions to fill my ears with about that boy.

He did seem to have a point. Not that I’d tell him that. This Jesse guy…had I met him on a job, I’d have probably liked him. Hard worker, knew his stuff, dependable, respectful, and easy to be around.

Without the religious crap, he’d be okay.

Except whatever had happened between him and Sarah had taken her from me. Unforgivable. Not to mention, she’d cried last night. I was sure she didn’t know I knew—thought I was sleeping—but I heard her sniffing. Most definitely unforgivable.

“He’s leaving today.”

Dan sure knew how to make an entry.

“That boy?”

“That
boy
is a full-grown man, and a good one at that. He happens to be the best thing that could happen to your daughter.”

Nope. Jesus freak, that was why. And he made her cry. “Then why is he leaving?”

“You want his answer or mine?”

Where did Dan get his temperament for meddling? Stay out of other people’s business, that was my creed. Dan was always into other people’s stuff.

“Are you giving me a real choice, or are you just leading up to a lecture?”

His glare narrowed on me. “Fine, you get both. He says he’s got to get to that job in Omaha. Without Sarah. Today. He’s needed there now, and she’s not going.”

“That’s life. Work. Not my problem.”

“No, that’s not your problem.” Dan marched closer to my desk. “Here’s your problem. You’re so sure that Sarah’s life will be a rerun of Cassie’s that you’re bullying the man she’s in love with out of her world.”

I dropped my pen and pushed away from my desk. “What’s that supposed to mean? If he were that great, he wouldn’t be running.”

“That right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Even if he doesn’t want to be the reason she loses her father?”

“You’re giving him too much credit. You don’t know anything about it.”

Dan’s face turned an angry shade of red. “Then why is he leaving a girl he clearly loves more than the sunshine on his back?”

Dan and poetry.

Did Jesse love her?

Dan’s glare softened. “Look. Jesse wouldn’t say what happened last night, but he’s not skipping around with joy this morning, and last I knew, they were taking on this project in Omaha together. You’re her dad, and you’ve done everything short of jabbing a shotgun into his chest to get rid of him—which neither Darcy nor I can figure. If you could handpick a man for Sarah, you know it’d be him. Maybe it’s time you stop living in the past and take a risk for the happiness of your daughter.”

After a long glare, certainly meant as a stamp on his rant, Dan turned and marched his way out the door. Which left me staring at the gray steel he’d slammed behind him.

I did care about Sarah’s happiness. That was how this whole thing started. I’d wanted her to be happy. Thought that a weekend shopping with Darcy would set her world okay and we could move on. I’d never imagined the way the past four months had played out. Homes For Hope, then fights, and running off, then Jesus, and now Jesse. What kind of a crazy trail was that?

But I still wanted her to be happy. And Jesse seemed to light her up.

The night Sarah asked me to tell her about Cassie stormed through my mind. Man, I’d come unglued. Didn’t have a good reason for it either. It was long overdue, actually. It was natural for anyone to wonder about who gave them life. I hadn’t wanted to talk about it, to remember her. Hurt too much.

With my elbow on the desk, I rested my head in my hand. I
was
locked in the past and afraid Sarah would relive it. Which meant that I wasn’t allowing her to live at all. That wasn’t right.

I pushed away from the desk and walked to the window. Scanning the lot out front, I tracked the sidewalk across the road to Dan’s house. Jesse stood on the curb, checking the toolbox in his pickup.

Getting ready to leave.

Maybe this was my one more chance. Careful not to appear hurried, I walked out the door and across the gravel lot.
Sarah’s happiness, Sarah’s happiness, Sarah’s happiness…

Jesse heard my footsteps when I was about ten feet from his truck. He looked up from his packing and then back to his hands.

“Hear you’re taking off.” I stopped at the tailgate.

“Yes, sir.” He still didn’t look at me.

“Sarah know?”

“Yes, sir.”

My mouth felt dry, and words wouldn’t form in my head. Jesse made no effort to rescue the silence. He finished organizing whatever he’d been arranging and shut the toolbox. With one step, he retrieved the duffel waiting for him on the sidewalk and then tossed it into the passenger side of the cab.

Must have been a doozy, whatever had happened.

I crossed my arms and cocked my head. “So leaving is how you’re gonna handle this?”

He turned toward the bed of the truck and pushed both palms against it. After one long breath, he slammed a palm against the metal. “What it is you think I should do, Dale?” After straightening, he anchored both hands on his hips. “Tell me what to do here. You gave her an ultimatum. Did you want me to take her to Omaha? You want her out of your life? I can’t be that guy.”

Heat sparked in his eyes, and I began to wonder if I’d been wrong.

With a step forward he continued. “This cold war you have going on with Sarah is crushing her. I’ve watched it all summer. Every slam of anger you hammer against her drives the pain deeper. You’re her dad. She
loves
you. As much as I want to take her away, because you’re being a little scary right now, I can’t. I don’t want to be the final blade that severs the little bit of relationship she has left with you. She’ll regret it, and I won’t be able to live with myself.”

They fought about me—and Jesse was on my side? That didn’t add up. Guilt began to weigh heavy in my chest, and I couldn’t push aside the image of my daughter, shoulders slumped, shuffling to her room yesterday. I thought her heartbreak was Jesse’s fault.

Turns out it was mine.

Jesse sighed. “Look, I don’t know what it is you think you have figured about me, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Sarah’s mom. While I’m not sure what happened there, I can promise you I’m not what you think I am. I want Sarah to be whole and free. I want her to be happy.”

Whole and free. The exact opposite of what Cassie’s father had demanded from his daughter. I stole a glance at Jesse’s face. He looked about as honest as they came, and like he was in as much turmoil over this whole thing as I was.

What if he was telling the truth? If Darcy and Dan were right, and Jesse was really what he appeared to be, then I was an idiot.

Sarah loved him, and he wasn’t taking her from me. Would he change, show a different side of himself if I trusted him?

Jesse exhaled, and his shoulders drooped. “I have a job to get to,” he mumbled as he stepped away.

My fists balled at my side, and I found that my muscles twitched. I didn’t trust much. But…

“Did you say good-bye?” Heat crawled up my neck as I pictured myself as some little old meddling woman.

He stopped, his back to me, and his hand anchored on his neck. “No.”

I drew a breath, long and deep, digging for courage and honesty. “I did that once.”

Jesse turned, looking back at me.

“Left after a fight. Didn’t say good-bye.” I swallowed, the memories pounding me with ruthless cruelty.

Crazy, I hadn’t remembered that part all these years. That Cassie and I had fought the night before she left. Even in that moment, I didn’t remember about what, likely about her father, but I knew we fought, and I went out. Didn’t come back until late, slept on the couch, and then left early the next morning before she and the baby were up.

I glanced back up, finding Jesse still looking at me. Waiting.

“Never saw her again.” Emotion surged over me, and I had to grind my jaw to cap it. When that didn’t work, I turned away.

All these years, I’d blamed everything on Cassie and her father. Now I knew. I had been wrong too.

Jesse

Dale turned away, his shoulders hunched tight. I thought his jaw quivered before he turned his back to me and walked across the street. His confession had been costly.

I scanned the neighborhood, quiet in the warmth of the late summer morning. “Sir.” My voice broke the stillness.

He turned but didn’t really look at me. I moved forward, not realizing until I reached him that I’d jogged across the way.

“Where is she?”

He lifted his eyes, which were sheened. “Left this morning. I’m not sure where she went.”

I had a guess.

After a moment of careful study, Dale nodded. I waited, feeling like he wanted to say more. When he didn’t, I moved back toward my truck.

“Jesse.”

My real, actual name. That was a big deal. I stopped to look at him.

“Be a better man than me.” He didn’t wait for me to respond. Just continued to the office door, his shoulders tucked in as if to protect his heart.

Because it was broken.

A fresh compassion washed over me, one which I should have maintained in the first place. Strange how love could draw out the best and the worst in a person.

I chewed on that as I hopped into my truck and pulled away from the curb. More proof. Without God, we were lost. Even in the most amazing gift—love—we were destined to make a mess of things.

But, and this was amazing, but God…He was able to heal what had been damaged.

Please make this right.

Sarah

The sun kissed the eastern sky, making the semidark horizon blush a beautiful pink hue. I hadn’t slept at all, and I wasn’t ready to face my dad again. Desperate to see Jesse, I pushed down the impulse to drive to Uncle Dan’s, and drove in the opposite direction.

The house stood quiet and sad in the early morning dimness. It needed new life.

Do it.

I didn’t know how he talked me into things, but I was certain he had. I planned to bid on the house that afternoon.

Despite my tears that had everything to do with Jesse and my dad, my heart jolted with erratic kicks. I pulled onto the weed-filled driveway of my dream house. Not much of a dream house, if you were judging by HGTV standards. But as I wandered into the front yard filled with overgrown neglect, I could see the dream unfold. Jesse was right. I did have vision. He said it was a gift. I still thought maybe I needed medication.

I loved that project in Lexington though. And those houses in Omaha…seriously, I couldn’t wait to witness their transformation.

This house in front of me was so much more than a project. It would be my first home, the one that was mine to go with the life I was beginning to see.

A fresh vision for a fresh me.