The Reluctant Bride (13 page)

“She was so helpful and patient, listening to me ramble on and on. I used to think I'd be a pastor's wife someday…and be just like she was so I could
help people who needed it. I know this sounds crazy, but she offered to let me stay with them.”

“There's nothing crazy about it, Micah. God helped you through her.”

“But she didn't know anything more about me than what I told her and what the papers said. Yet, she took me into that parsonage with her three kids and her husband, and they accepted me as though I belonged there. I stayed with them for the next two months while I finished school. Then I found a job as a secretary and a cheap efficiency apartment in the area so I could be on my own. But that family made the difference in what my life turned out to be,” Micah continued with a smile. “They are the reason I accepted the Lord into my life. They offered me compassion when I thought I'd never find it anywhere, and I wanted to be like them. I still do.”

“That's one of the reasons I love you so,” Rob said, his voice edged with sadness.

“But I've told you from the beginning we shouldn't start this. You thought if I loved you, it would change things,” Micah gently explained. “But I do, and it doesn't change anything.”

Rob touched her face and the tenderness in his expression was almost unbearable for Micah to see. “It won't rewrite history, if that's what you mean,” he said. “It can't turn your dad into an honest man or make your mother into the maternal type. But it doesn't have to be the end of us. We can live with this.”

“No, we can't. I won't,” she stated emphatically.

“But, have you told me everything? Is that all there is to it?”

“Isn't that enough?” Micah responded, deliberately not answering the question.

“You've had a horrible experience, and I know your father is in prison…but if I can accept that without reservation, why won't you let me? This career doesn't mean—”

“It's not just your profession. It just can't work for us. It might be fine in the beginning, but there will come a day when you realize what a mistake you've made—”

“Then what do you want from me, Micah? Here? Now? And nothing more?”

“That's all we can have.”

“You can't give me today and expect me not to want tomorrow. That's too much to ask.”

“That's all I have to give you,” she whispered, trying not to cry as she pulled her hand away from his grasp.

“Did you think I could be with you and not fall in love? Micah, I've loved you almost from the be ginning.”

“You want what you think I am…not the real me. You need someone who can be a part of your family. Someone who will give you children. I won't.”

Micah hated what she'd done to him when he looked at her in disbelief. She knew the hurt she had dealt him; it was her pain, too.

“Why wouldn't you have a child with me?” he asked quietly.

“I don't know how to be a good parent. My mother
never
loved me. Not from my earliest memory. She only stays in touch with me out of a sense of duty. I won't pass that legacy on to a next generation.”

“Micah, you're a
teacher!
I've seen you with Heather and the boys, and you have all the right instincts with kids. There's nothing maternal lacking in you.”

“But you don't know how it feels. You have your family, the things you've learned from them, their presence in your life, their love.”

“They'll love you, too. They'll be your family.”

“Why should they?”

“Because I love you. My mom is already crazy about you,” he protested.

“She won't be when she knows what a liability I can be to her son. I've already had one mom protect her son from me. I don't intend to go through that again.”

“When did that happen? You've never mentioned—”

“It's not important. What matters is that you find someone who will give you the respectable life that you deserve…with lots of kids so you can have Sunday get-togethers like your parents do and Thanksgiving dinners and eat fruitcake in December—" Her wavering words broke off with a cry, and she
stood up and walked to the front door. Turning the knob and breaking the heart that beat within her, she pulled open the door.

Rob stood by the chair for a minute, watching her in a mixture of disbelief and mounting frustration. “Micah, don't do this. I don't care about family dinners—”

“Yes, you do. They're part of you as much as my upbringing is a part of me. This was wrong, Rob, from the beginning. I'm sorry.”

“It was never wrong. Not with us,” he insisted. His eyes misted with tears, and Micah looked away as he continued, “But I can't fight you every step of the way. This hurts too much.”

“Then don't.” She choked the words out.

“All right, you win,” he conceded bitterly. “There's obviously more to this story than you're telling me, because this isn't enough to keep us apart. Are you going to give me the missing piece of this puzzle before I walk out of here?”

Micah shook her head no without looking up into the frustration she knew she'd find in his eyes.

“Then I'll leave you alone with your miserable past or whatever it is you want to hold on to more than you want me. I didn't accept inadequate answers from God, and I won't accept them from you.” Then he walked away.

Micah leaned back against the wall and slid down, inches at a time, until she sank onto the floor and, burying her face in her hands, wept inconsolably.

The days passed slowly and the nights even more slowly. Micah purposely avoided her apartment as much as she could, assuming Rob would return. But if he had, there was no indication of it. No notes, no calls, no messages on the answering machine. Nothing.

Teaching the next several days kept her busy most of the time, and Angela didn't mention the breakup. Micah spent some time painting in the park when weather permitted. The summer-festival season for her artwork would begin over the long holiday weekend, and she needed to prepare for her display. The country-church scene she'd started months ago, before her weeks with Rob, had been sadly neglected. But she started working on it again, and it began to take shape the way she had envisioned it, exactly as it had looked that first afternoon she saw it—a welcoming place that was in need of a good paint job. Suddenly, Micah missed that little church in the woods. She felt almost homesick for it. Maybe she'd go back there this Sunday. It had been so long since she'd visited. But she had always supposed Rob would go with her one day. It was the kind of place he would like.

Thursday evening came and she dawdled around the neighborhood Laundromat nearly twice as long as necessary rather than hurry home to a lonely apartment. Carole came in with her own dirty laundry just as Micah began folding the dish towels.

“Hiya!” Carole said as she plopped her basketful
of clothes onto the floor. “Why haven't you called? I wanted to know how your day with Rob's family went.”

“Sorry. I haven't felt very chatty these days.” Micah knew Carole would talk about the cute accountant she had been seeing, and she did not want to hear it so soon after losing Rob. “So, how are you?” she asked and braced herself.

“I'm okay, and I'm learning a lot about finances as well as other things,” Carole answered with a mischievous expression as she dumped an odd assortment of clothing into the washer. “How did family day with the Granstons go?”

“Wonderful,” Micah replied with a sad sigh.

“I see. And that explains why you look so miserable?” Carole remarked with a frown. “I don't understand you. How could you have a guy like that and be so unhappy?”

“We're not seeing each other any longer,” Micah said and continued folding her towels.

“Not seeing each other!” Carole exclaimed so loudly other people in the Laundromat looked over at them. “After all you've been through with him, now it's over? Are you serious?”

Micah reached for a washcloth. “Yes, I'm serious.”

Carole placed her hands on the table and pushed herself up to sit on top of the folding table, sitting directly beneath a posted sign: Do Not Sit On Machines
Or Table. “I should have known something was wrong. I haven't heard from you for days.”

“It just won't work, Carole. No matter how hard we try.”

“You've got to be kidding. You saw each other almost nonstop for weeks, and now it's just over. There's something you're not telling me.”

“No juicy details to tell you. It simply wasn't meant to be.” Micah stacked the last of her dish towels onto the top of a nearly full basket “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“But—” Carole stopped abruptly as Micah's green gaze flashed a warning that temporarily halted her friend's relentless prying.

“I'm glad things are working out for you and your accountant.”

“He has a really nice friend. We could introduce you to him,” Carole said.

Suddenly, all Micah wanted to do was go home. “I don't think so, Carole. Thanks, anyway.”

“You're really in love with Rob,” Carole stated.

Micah shrugged. “It doesn't matter now. I'll see you later.”

“I'll never understand you, Micah Shepherd. I've watched you date guys over the past two years that you didn't care much for, and then you find one who is right for you and you tell me, ‘it just won't work’.” Carole was quiet for a moment. “You're the one who ended it.”

“Yes,” Micah answered. “Someone had to.”

“And we're back to him being a lawyer again, aren't we? Are you in trouble with the law or something?” Carole asked quietly. “I mean, I wouldn't tell anybody and that would explain—”

“No,” Micah replied briskly. “Don't be ridiculous. I'm not on a Most Wanted poster anywhere.” Picking up her overflowing laundry basket, she started toward the door.

“Micah, you're making a serious mistake, and by the time you realize it, it may be too late. Trust me on this,” Carole responded, watching Micah leave.

“Thanks, Carole. I know you mean well, but that's just the way it is. I'll call you in a day or two.” Micah backed through the double doors. “When I do, let's talk about something other than Rob Granston, attorney-at-law. Okay?”

T
he boxes of chocolate displayed in the window of the tiny candy shop caught Micah's attention, and she stopped to view the selection. Hiking her book bag over one shoulder, she slid her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans. Mrs. Poe loved chocolates and tomorrow was her birthday. And this was the first edible thing Micah had seen for nearly two weeks that actually looked good to her.

“Micah!” Carole stepped out of the shop. “I thought that was you.”

“Hello,” Micah responded, glad to see her friend. She could buy a gift later. She'd rather talk to Carole now.

“Want some?” Carole held out a small bag of chocolates. “They have peanuts in them.”

“Sure,” Micah said and reached into the sack for a sample. “What about your diet?”

“It was successful!” Carole laughed. “I lost seven pounds. See?” She turned, around to display a shapely figure. “A little chocolate never hurt anyone.”

Micah smiled.

“Where have you been hiding yourself lately? I haven't seen you since that night at the Laundromat.” Carole pushed a few stray blond strands of hair from her forehead. “You are a hard person to get in touch with, and I'm getting tired of talking to your machine.”

“I've been teaching and painting, getting ready for the festivals this summer.”

“Are you going to do that again this year? Traipse around to all those hot, crowded carnivals drawing pictures?” Carole wrinkled her nose in obvious distaste.

“They're called caricatures, and, yes, I am. I enjoy it.”

“Why you like sitting in all that humidity in those crowded places, I'll never understand.”

“The caricatures are fun to do, I meet some interesting people and I make pretty good money,” Micah explained to her frowning friend.

“You could take a full-time teaching position if you want to, Micah. You've had plenty of opportunity. You only need to be willing to commit yourself. Rob was saying just last night—”

“Rob?” Micah cut off Carole's words.

Carole popped a piece of candy into her mouth.
“I've seen him a few times. I didn't think you'd mind.”

Micah stood nearly speechless for a moment, staring at her friend's unconcerned expression.

“No…I…” She paused. Why should she mind? She had ended her relationship with him. She had no hold on his future. “Why should I mind?” she asked quietly.

“My thought exactly. You said you had no plans to see him again, so when he called the first time—”

“The first time?” Micah repeated. “You've been seeing him regularly?”

“Kind of. He called me not long after the talk you and I had at the Laundromat.”

“What happened to the cute accountant?” Micah inquired as she recalled a portion of their conversation from that evening.

The shopkeeper of the candy store in front of which they still stood turned out the lights in the display window. It was nearly five o'clock.

“Let's go to my car,” Carole said, pointing across the street to a small automobile. “It looks like they're closing up shop here.” They began crossing the street as Carole answered, “The accountant was fun for a while. That's all.”

“And Rob?” When they reached the car, Micah leaned against it, waiting for Carole's response. “You always said he was more my type than yours.”

“He still is, actually, but I'm beginning to think
your type of men are better bets than mine. I've wound up with too many losers.” Carole folded down the top of the candy sack. “Rob is an interesting man.”

“You should know. You dated him before I even met him.” Micah's reply rang a little sharper than intended.

“I went out to lunch with him back then. One time, Micah. That's all.” Carole leaned through the opened car window and placed what remained of her purchase on the front seat. “I thought then he'd make a good match for you, but since you're not interested… Anyway, he called me, and I reconsidered.”

“So now you're doing more than eating lunch with him,” Micah commented, shielding her eyes from the glare of the setting sun.

“Yes, I've had dinner with him, too,” Carole replied.

“And breakfast?”

Carole's eyes flickered with amusement at Micah's inquisition. “Not yet. You really are jealous, aren't you?”

“Why should I be jealous? I'm the one who ended it, remember?”

“I remember, Rob remembers,” Carole said. “But do you? If you're the one who sent him away, why are you now upset that someone else wants him?”

Micah's cool green gaze eyed Carole cautiously
while asking herself the same question. Why did she care?

“He only talks about you, Micah. He's just using me to get to you, and I'm going along with it. See what a good friend you have in me? I'm so determined to get you two together that I'm sticking myself right in the middle of this mess. Why don't you call him? You could still patch things up.”

Micah frowned at Carole's suggestion. “I don't think so, Carole. You are the one he's seeing.”

“And
you
are the one he
wants
to see,” Carole added, smiling at Micah's frowning face. “He's a nice guy, Micah, and I like him, but there's nothing going on between us. I just wanted to make you see what you're giving up. Call him. Please, Micah. Take a chance on this man.”

Micah shook her head and lowered her gaze to the brick pavement beneath her feet. Here she stood, questioning her best friend about things that were none of her business…jealous over a man she had sent away. If only
she
could get away….

“I think I'll go up to that cabin for a few days. Remember, that one we rented last Christmas?” Micah said. Maybe a change of scenery, even a temporary one, would help.

“Call Rob. See if he can go with you,” Carole offered and, with a smile, added, “you have my permission.”

Micah smiled back. “I'm sorry I was so sharp
with you. I had no right to pry into your private life.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Carole replied in a lighthearted voice while climbing into her automobile. “Want a ride?”

“No, thanks. I need the exercise.” Micah began to walk away from the car.

“Are you really going up to that isolated cabin? All by yourself?” Carole asked with a frown. “Do you think that's a good idea?”

“I'll be fine. I need to go alone to do some thinking. Next time, I'll invite you to go along.”

“I wasn't thinking of myself, Micah. Rob is the person you should take.”

Micah shook her head again. She couldn't go back now. Her decision had already been made. “See you later, Carole.”

“Forget he's a lawyer for the weekend. Pretend he's an art instructor, or a picture framer, or unemployed! You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Micah wished it could be that simple. Why couldn't he be something other than what he was? And why couldn't she? Why couldn't the fact that he was no longer a Christian be enough reason for her to let him go? “I'll phone you next week,” she called to her friend and began walking away.

“I'm telling you, you'd better grab him while he's still available. If I spend much more time with him, I might issue a breakfast invitation.” Carole's words were a warning but spoken with a genuine
smile. Still, Micah wasn't sure if Carole had only been teasing as she watched her friend's car disappear around the corner.

Deciding on flowers for her landlady's gift, Micah stopped at a nearby florist and purchased a small bouquet that she delivered to Mrs. Poe before heading back to her own apartment. She found her suitcase underneath the bed, and she started packing. A pair of shorts, her new jeans, a couple of shirts and some clean undergarments. She didn't need much. The thick mystery book lying on the floor by the side of her bed made it into the luggage, but only temporarily. Micah quickly removed it from the bag. Being alone in that cabin could be eerie enough at night. She didn't need any added effects. She glanced through the stack of reading material beside her bed, looking for something else to take. She found another mystery and a romance.

“Great,” she said aloud to herself. “Just what I need. A love story.” Pushing that book aside, she gathered up a couple of recent magazines and tossed them in on top of her clothes. Then she saw the book of devotions she'd been reading the other night and added it to the top of her pile. “This should help. I'll read some every morning and night,” she reasoned. In little more than half an hour, she had everything she needed packed and loaded into the car. A quick call to the rental office confirmed the availability of the cabin she wanted. She would pick up
a few groceries and take off first thing in the morning.

May. A lovely time of year and Micah's favorite month. Yellow and red tulips bloomed around the spacious front porch of the cabin nestled in the woods. Micah eased her rambling old station wagon through the secluded trees and parked close to the back door so she could unload her belongings easily.

After going inside and wiping away some of the dust and cobwebs, Micah carried her easel and half finished canvas into a work area she selected in the living room. Returning to the kitchen she found the few modern conveniences there covered with a layer of dust. She had not been at this haven in the woods since Christmas, when she and Carole had enjoyed the holidays here together. A forlorn piece of tinsel lay on the large braided rug, a glimmering reminder of that long-ago holiday. Micah leaned over, picked up the scrap and tossed it into the trash and wondered if anyone had rented this place since that December vacation.

Crash! Micah jumped when a picture frame that she had leaned against the wall fell over, hitting the hardwood floor. After inspecting it and finding it damaged, she moved it to a better spot. Then she decided to check out the rest of the rooms. The two tiny bedrooms upstairs offered more than enough room for Micah and her belongings. The kitchen, living room and bathroom downstairs were all in
good repair, and Micah switched on the refrigerator. She left her groceries in the ice chest until the temperature in the refrigerator was cool enough to maintain the food.

Pulling back the colorful striped kitchen curtains, she stared out into bright sunshine. The weekend promised to be a beautiful one, and this first day of it passed slowly and leisurely, much to Micah's delight A week of rowdy elementary-school students with little interest in schoolwork had frayed Micah's nerves. And there had been those two night classes to teach, one to attend and a pottery course she helped with… and no Rob. That was the part she wasn't sure she would ever grow accustomed to.

Dusk settled over the area, and Micah placed the kettle on the stove to make a pot of tea. Then she began making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A knock outside the front door startled her, almost frightened her. Who could be up here in this remote part of the woods? Maybe it was Carole. She knew Micah planned to come here. Maybe she decided to drop in for a visit. Micah peeked through the window and saw a raccoon scampering off the front porch and a flowerpot lying on the wooden floor, toppled by the clumsy visitor.

“Frightened by a little critter like you,” Micah said, laughing as she cleaned up the spilled plant and went back indoors to finish her sandwich.

She had just turned off the burner under the tea kettle when she heard a car pull into the gravel
driveway. She pulled back a curtain and looked out. And saw Rob.

“Carole,” she said aloud to the friend who was nowhere to be seen. “What have you done now?” She closed the curtain and headed toward the front door, pulling it open just as Rob stepped onto the porch.

“This is a surprise,” she stated softly and looked into his direct gaze as he approached the screen door. But she quickly lowered her eyes to the collar of his shirt to avoid confronting the sadness she'd seen, sadness she'd left there, sadness she shared.

“How are you?” he asked quietly, easily.

“Okay…” Micah responded, “I guess. How about you?”

“I've been better,” Rob replied, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in a weary movement “It's a long drive from Columbus.”

“Uh-huh, it is,” she commented and bit her lower lip, restraining words she dare not say. Not now.

“I don't suppose you bothered to listen to a weather report before you came running up here for the weekend?”

“No,” Micah answered, feeling suddenly childish for not having thought of it. One look toward the darkening skies told her she should have done so. “Is that why you're here?” she questioned him quietly. “To give me details on the weather?”

Rob's laugh sounded harsh. Bitter. “Yep,” he said. “I spent an hour and a half driving up here to
give you a five-day forecast.” Pain flashed through the blue eyes Micah, once again, looked into, and she knew he was as disappointed by the things she didn't say as he was with those she said. He turned to go..

“Rob, don't—” She pushed open the heavy screen door that had stood between them and stepped out onto the porch. The door slammed shut behind her.

He stopped and turned back to face her. “Carole called me at the office. If your cabin had a phone, she could have told you herself. There are severe storm warnings for tonight, and she's worried about you being alone in this isolated place all weekend.”

“What Carole wants is for you to spend the weekend here with me, as though that would solve all of our problems.”

Rob shook his head and looked out toward his car. “That would cause more problems for us than it would solve. I came here to see if I could talk you into going home. To your home, by yourself…the way you like it to be.”

“It's not the way I like it—it's the way it has to be,” Micah replied.

“So you say,” he commented. “Do you need help carrying things to your car? I assume you brought some paintings to work on—”

“I'm not going home, Rob. I'm not afraid of thunder and lightning.” What she feared more was the tranquillity she could find in this man's arms.

Anger flickered through his gaze again just as Micah knew it would, and she was relieved at its return. Anger proved much easier to send away than tenderness.

“Okay, Micah,” he remarked. “Have it your way. Have your whole life your own way. I don't care anymore.”

Rob's words, cold and deliberate, stung her and tears flooded her eyes as he turned to go.