The Winding Road Home (13 page)

At five o'clock Adele yanked open her front door before Deputy Cal Huntington had a chance to ring the bell. She had seen him park his cruiser on the street.

“They're fine, Adele.” He stepped inside.

She put her hands to her face and held back a sob.
Thank You, Jesus.
Before her knees gave way, she went to the staircase, the nearest seat, and sank onto a step.

Cal shut the door and removed his sheriff's hat. “A friend of mine with the State Patrol spotted Tara's car coming from the direction of Chicago.”

“Chicago?” The hollowness in her stomach grew. Chelsea had never gone to Chicago alone!

“He followed them to the Rockville exit and just now called to let me know. My guess is they're coming home.” Chelsea and Tara hadn't been gone long enough to be reported missing, but Cal had made some phone calls and asked favors.

He rubbed his full beard. “But if you want, I'll head down the highway and find them.”

She wiped tears from under her eyes. “It's not Jacob County.”

“No problem.”

“You don't mind?” Fear still clutched her throat, making her voice sound like a stranger's.

“You okay alone?”

She nodded. “I'll call Tara's mom.”
On the off chance she cares.

“All right. If you don't hear from me, I'm on their tail until they're parked in your drive.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and replaced his hat. “Adele, she's a good kid. She's a really good kid from where I sit. Don't be too hard on her.” With that he left.

She's a good kid. She is a good kid.

Adele rocked herself and let the tears fall.

She's all right.

Every nightmare she'd ever had bombarded that afternoon. Her greatest terror was always of losing Chelsea, her only child, the love of her life. It made her overprotective. It made her want to cling to the nearly 17-year-old girl and not let her out of her sight.

Not a healthy attitude.

Chelsea was pushing her away. It was a creeping, subtle withdrawing. In recent months their communication had suffered. For the most part, they got along like always, with no major disagreements, but something was fading.

What was it? Rand Jennings' words came to her. “Then Chelsea's the mistake?”

Had she ever breathed a hint of that? Ever inadvertently given credence to that thought by her words or her actions?

Oh, dear Lord, give me wisdom.

She waited. Again. Every breath hurt as they had all afternoon. She had raced home after the school called. After shouting at the school secretary for not knowing sooner. Didn't they keep better track of those things?

Joel had gotten on the line, trying to calm her, promising to talk to all of Chelsea's acquaintances. He had checked in with her twice since then.

She called him now. He thanked her for the news and promised a stiff sentence at school.

Next she called Tara's mom and talked briefly. The woman did not sound like the basket case Adele knew she herself was at the moment.

And then she waited. Again.

Headlights flashed through the front windows. Adele rushed to the door and opened it. Tara's car was in the drive. Chelsea took an eternity getting out.

Adele braced herself against the doorjamb, the cold night air numbing her hands and face.

“Mom.” Chelsea approached. “I'm sorry. Please don't yell.”

Adele grabbed her daughter by the arm and pulled her into a fierce hug. Yelling was the second item on her agenda.

By eight o'clock the yelling had fizzled. Chelsea was in her room, moping, grounded from phone, computer, and pottery until further notice. Kate had gotten wind of Chelsea's trip and popped in long enough to make sure everything was under control before she went to cover a meeting. Adele's “thank you” had snapped like a crocodile's jaws, sending her boarder quickly on her way.

She paced the living room now, more distraught than she could remember ever feeling. Her prayers were incoherent babbles. She hadn't eaten since lunch, but wasn't hungry. She was exhausted, but not tired. She was totally confused and unsure.

The doorbell rang. She considered not answering. It rang again. She did not want to talk to anyone! Now someone pounded on the door.

She went to it and jerked it open. “Graham.”

“Hi. How's it going?”

She shook her head. “I'll get through it.” Some way. Some how. Some day.

“May I come in?”

“I'm really not good company tonight.”

“I'm not looking for good company.”

“What are you, a masochist?” Her laugh was without humor.

“Adele, you don't have to do this alone.”

She blinked. “Of course I do. She's my daughter.”

“And you're my friend.”

“It's my problem.”

“But you don't have to deal with it alone.”

“Graham, I appreciate the offer, but I really need to be alone right now.”

He came inside, shut the door, and shrugged off his coat. “Have you eaten?”

His sudden presence engulfed her home. It felt as if something shifted, tilting her world, throwing it off balance. Throwing her off balance. Blurring her vision. She took a step backward. “Graham, please. I'm all right. Really.”

“How about some tea? I bet I could find my way around your kitchen.” He hung his coat on the hall tree and turned, his voice a soothing murmur. “After you left the other night, I helped clean it up.”

Why didn't he leave? “Look, I don't need any tea! I don't want any company!” It was the tone she had used against Chelsea. The same volume. The same tone. Full of fear. Teetering on the brink of controlled. “I can do this alone! I've always done this alone! For over seventeen years, as a matter of fact! I've been a single mom from day one, perfectly capable—”

“Yes, you are.” He held out his arms, nearly closing the gap between them. “But I'm here now and you don't have to do it alone this time.”

She felt something begin to crumble inside of her. Courage? Determination? Stamina?
Faith?
That couldn't happen! “Jesus does it with me.” The crumbling was gaining momentum. The sound of crashing grew louder. She heard her voice like a distant echo. “I'm not really alone.”

“I know. Imagine, though, that He would let me take His place. Physically. That I could hold you for Him.”

She shook her head, desperate to shake away that shattering noise whirling in her head.

“Let it go, Adele. Just for now.”

She sensed him move nearer, his arms held wide. He didn't touch her, but now his shoulders filled her vision, blocking out the world, restoring balance to her home.

And then she knew. All that noise was her fear. Like great waves it crashed against the rocks protecting a harbor. A safe harbor…the one that waited for her now in Graham Logan's embrace.

She laid her face against his soft sweater.

Graham closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. She felt smaller than he had imagined she would feel. Perhaps it was only that he was unaccustomed to her display of fragility. Her hair smelled like sweet, freshly crushed lavender. Its springy curls tickled his cheek.

She didn't cry. She had probably cried all day. He would have come sooner had he known, had he been in town.

He felt a shudder go through her. She slipped her arms around him.

It was the first time he had held a woman since…since Samantha. Since that day…

Like Adele, he had gone it alone. Trusting in Christ, yes, but not letting anyone come alongside and see the pain in its full force. Why now? Why with Adele Chandler of all people on the face of the earth? Why now as Rand lay on his death bed, complicating issues? Of course without Rand he never would have come to Valley Oaks in the first place…

They stood in the entryway. He didn't want to break the spell. She needed to come to terms with what she had just done: accepted his comfort. From her outburst he knew she still feared totally trusting any man as she must have once trusted her father, who let her down. Could she trust him in that way, in spite of everything?

He wanted to carry her off, whisk her away from the here and now, away from that
teenager
for whom he was garnering a few choice words. Of course, if she hadn't behaved like a fool, he wouldn't be standing there now holding Adele. Who knew how long before he would have allowed himself?

Adele stirred and lifted her face.

He cradled her cheek in his hand, caressing the everpresent dimple with his thumb. Her eyes were puffy and dark circles surrounded them. As always he found her lips enticing, the upper one a bit fuller than the lower one. He inclined his head.

And then he stopped. “Adele. It's not the right time.”

She swallowed and nodded slightly.

“Tea?”

“You'll stay?” Her voice was hoarse.

“As long as you'll let me. Come on.” With an arm around her shoulders, he led her through the dining room and into the kitchen.

A short time later they sat at the kitchen table sipping tea, Adele's shoulders wrapped in a blanket. Since arriving he had heard the furnace blasting heat waves throughout the house. Still she was cold. He got up and shut the door leading to the dining room, wondering if she'd mind if he sat around in his T-shirt and shorts. It was hot.

Adele was slowly describing the events of the day. “She refuses to tell me what she was up to. I have no idea what she and Tara did all day. I'm only guessing they went to Chicago from what Cal told me. She says I can trust her. I mean, that's it. That's all she'll say.”

“Do you think you can trust her?”

“Before today I would have said completely. Without a doubt.” Her gaze wandered toward the windows. “No, before the last few months I would have said that. She has been pulling away. I know she hasn't been opening up, not like before.”

“She's never been sixteen going on seventeen before. Perhaps it's merely her age, her need for independence.”

Adele's face fell. “I didn't think it would happen. We've always been so close because it's just been the two of us. And I've never discouraged her independence.”

“Have you talked with Tara's mother?”

She shook her head. “The woman has…a wild lifestyle. I've lost track of which boyfriend is living with her now. Her daughter doesn't seem to be a priority to her.”

“Maybe today was Tara's issue, not Chelsea's.”

“I hadn't thought of that.”

“Not that you should let her off the hook for skipping school and frightening you half to death, but if she asks for your trust, maybe giving it is a giant step toward letting go.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “It's so hard. Harder than I ever imagined.”

He reached over and touched her hand.

The kitchen door swung open and Chelsea entered. “Mom—Oh, Graham. Hi.”

“Hi yourself. Are you allowed to be down here?”

Her eyes widened.

A tiny giggle escaped from Adele.

Chelsea's eyes grew even larger as she looked back and forth between the two of them.

Graham said, “Would you like some tea?”

“I came for ice water. Mom, it's so hot upstairs. Can I turn down the heat?”

“I'm freezing.”

“Do you want some soup?” The child was obviously attempting to rack up good-behavior points.

Graham stood. “I'm sure you both need some. I'll cook.” He touched Chelsea's shoulder and steered her to the table. “You two make up.”

Now they both stared at him.

He ducked his head inside a cupboard. “Chicken noodle all right?”

In unison they said, “No chicken!”

“That's Kate's stuff!” Chelsea added.

He smiled at them. “I knew that.”