Wounded Grace (6 page)

“Oh…” Viv's voice faded away as she looked in the distance. “I don't know…I just don't know.”

Madison looked at Lance, sitting across from them in one of the three white Adirondack chairs that graced the porch. Maybe he'd put in a word of encouragement…at least try to get Viv going. But he didn't. In fact, he'd hardly said two words since she'd told him the truth about her feelings. The next morning she'd come to the big house, fully expecting a long, difficult rehashing of the past. Instead, she'd found silence.

The situation had made the following days awkward. Both Viv and Lance seemed distant, unfocused, almost lost to reality. Occasionally, Madison caught Lance studying her, but he never said a word. Those moments only added to Madison's discomfort. With the loss of Mr. Hart, and now Viv and Lance acting so strangely, Heart's Haven had stopped feeling like home. Most of the time Madison felt like a foreigner living in a foreign land. Sometimes she thought Lance's righteous, cutting attacks had been easier to take than his odd, speculative silence.

Today, when Lance suggested she stop work in the office and join them outside on the porch, she'd gladly followed. Now, after her third attempt to draw one of them into a conversation, she wondered if she should have stayed inside.

Vivian grasped her hand and patted it, breaking into Madison's thoughts. “Poor dear. We're like Martha and Mary, aren't we?

“What do you mean?”

“You know, Lazarus's sisters? When something happens, you feel like you have to move, to help, to serve…like Martha. And I'm like Mary. All I can do is sit at the feet of the Lord and wait.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I don't know.”

“How long must you wait?”

“I don't know that, either.”

Her words didn't ease Madison's concern. If Vivian spent many more days waiting, staring off into nothingness, Madison feared her friend might slip into an abyss and never return.

Before she could express her concerns, all three heard a raised voice and turned in that direction. From the corner of the porch, they could see the front of Kaci's cottage. She stood in the door, facing the trio on the porch, one hand clamped on the portal, another gripping the jamb as she listened to Ryne, who was saying something. Even from a distance, the troubled look on the young woman's face was apparent and though Ryne's back was to them and his words were unclear, his low, taut tone clearly bespoke his mood. Suddenly, he spun and stalked off. Kaci stepped back inside and slammed the door.

“Oh dear,” Viv murmured. “Our soon-to-be wed couple seems to be having problems.”

“It's probably just pre-wedding jitters. The ceremony is only a few weeks away, now,” Lance said.

“Hmmm, I hope so. They're such a perfect couple.”

Madison disliked the fearful timbre of Viv's voice. The tremble seemed like a visible wincing, as if she expected another, fatal blow any moment.

Her reaction frustrated Madison even more. “It's this atmosphere. It's making us all tense and uptight. It's so heavy, so oppressive…” She broke off as a thought occurred to her. She rose from the swing and crossed to the porch railing. Sure enough, beneath a cloudless sky, a large circular shadow covered the area where Mr. Hart had fallen.

“It's still there.”

“What?” Lance came to stand beside her.

“That big shadow over the plant beds. It appeared the day Mr. Hart died.”

Lance looked out on the grounds. “I don't see a shadow.”

“How can you miss it? It goes from the plant bed to the driveway, at least ten feet." She rubbed her arms, upon which goose bumps had broken out. "It frightens me.

Lance gave her an odd look, his brows drawn together in a frown. “There's not a cloud in the sky, and all I see are unplanted flowers.”

Madison stared at him, puzzled. Another shiver tripped up her spine.

“The shadow is there,” Vivian said.

“I'm not going crazy? You see it, too, Vivian?”

Vivian nodded. “You're not crazy, my dear. It's a dark stain on the earth, and it won't go until we drive it away. It's our job to shine light into all the dark places, to chase away the shadows. To turn our suffering into joy.” Vivian's voice faded away.

“But how, Viv?” Madison asked. “How do we chase the shadows away? We've prayed and prayed. The Falls Tabernacle even started a prayer chain for protection. What else can we do?”

“I don't know,” Viv's voice quivered now and she shook her head. “Andrew knew. He understood these things, how to…” That was as much as she could get out. Words failed her, and she burst into tears.

Lance rushed to her side and Madison dropped to her knees in front of her. “I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up.”

Her friend tried to speak, but a new wave of sorrow swept over her, and all she could manage was a shake of her head.

“Don't apologize, Madison. Let her talk, let the tears flow,” Lance murmured. “It's better she gets them out. Better not to bottle them up.”

“He's right,” Vivian finally managed to say, pulling a fresh tissue out of her pocket. “It's just a little too much today…the heat...everything.”

More tears spilled down her cheeks. But the heat hadn't caused her distress. The spiritual warfare raging around Heart's Haven did it. How could Vivian possibly get her head above water when sinister shadows and spirits were waiting to push it right back down into pools of grief?

Lance wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulder and gently lifted her out of the swing.

“Come on. Let me take you upstairs for a little rest.”

Viv nodded and let him half-carry her into the house. When they'd gone, Madison let her head and shoulders droop.

Heart's Haven was a place of joy and peace, a true haven. Her sanctuary…everyone's sanctuary. She couldn't stand the thought that darkness could overshadow all the good that happened here.

She walked back to the railing. The shadow still covered the ground, the flowers, and all their lives.

What had Vivian said?

Shine the light.

“I'm afraid,” she whispered.

Shine the light.

“I hate it when you repeat yourself. It means I'll end up doing it no matter how much I argue.”

The shadow seemed to shimmer and move, like something alive. Trepidation rippled up Madison's spine.

“Please, Lord...”

Her plea for help was immediately answered. Resolve…if not courage…filled her. Determined to be a light, she marched down the front steps.

 

****

 

Lance closed Vivian's door and stood for a moment. At first, he heard only silence in the room behind the door, but very soon, he heard his sister's soft sobs. He hesitated. Should he go back in and try to comfort her? No, he should take his own advice. Viv needed to cry, to release and mourn, then maybe she would sleep. Maybe.

Madison was right to be worried about Vivian. He was worried, too. His sister's grief seemed overwhelming, almost unmanageable. Far worse than when she lost her first husband to cancer. And it seemed to increase rather than ease as time passed.

He hadn't noticed the atmosphere the women mentioned. He paused on his descent down the stairs to consider that fact. But then, he'd been lost in his own turmoil. Madison's declaration of her feelings had sent him in a tailspin.

At first, he'd found it hard to believe. But as the surprise wore off, he began to uncover feelings of his own. The attractions and affection Viv had mentioned existed. He could no longer deny the truth in his sister's observations.

Those feelings explained why he thought so highly of Madison all those years ago and why he praised all of her accomplishments. Even his dislike of Tony, before he really knew the man's character, lay in his own buried feelings. Admittedly, Tony had been a poor choice for someone like Madison, but if Lance was honest with himself, no man would have been good enough.

That realization changed the color of his memories. Incidents had a different meaning. Little wisps of conversations made sense. He had a better understanding.

He had been madly in love with his wife. He might not have consciously wanted Madison for himself, but he'd always wanted the best for her.

Still, even though he knew why Madison had done what she had done, he couldn't let go of years of resentment at watching her destroy her potential as a child of God. He found it hard to forget the bitterness he felt she made life choices that led her further and further from the Lord.

He could forgive. After all, she had suffered most. But he could not forget. He could not look at her without feeling sad and disappointed. Those feelings consumed him, even though he knew the truth. A truth made worse because he couldn't shake a certain sense of responsibility.

He'd spent days trying to come to terms with it, and now, because he'd spent so much time with his own emotions, he'd let his sister down. Viv was sinking into depression while his attention was focused on his own selfish feelings. Guilt hit him with a blow that almost knocked him to his knees. His legs grew weak, and he wanted to sink farther into the steps and not get up.

Was this what Viv and Madison were talking about? This overriding sense of hopelessness and failure that came from outside of him, that was greater and heavier than the reality of his actions?

For the first time, he had an inkling of what they had been trying to express and hurried down the stairs to discuss it with Madison. But she was not on the porch where he'd left her. It took him a minute to find her, across the yard planting the flowers.

As he watched, she took the long-handled shovel and dug three new holes. Then she dropped to her knees, tipped the purple pansies out of the pony pack, dropped them in place, patted them down, and moved to the next. He could tell from the shudder of her shoulders that she was crying, though she made not a sound. As she rose, she wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand and tackled another row of holes. Her tears didn't stop her or slow her down. She worked on, relentless, full of determination.

But that didn't surprise Lance. What shocked him, what kept him rooted to his spot on the porch, his mind whirling and his lips parted in surprise, were the flowers behind Madison. Each row of the delicate flowers she had just planted sparkled in sunshine, while in front of her, a large, circular stain covered the ground.

The shadow. He could see it now, as clear as day. How had he missed it before, and why was it suddenly visible to him? Madison was attacking it with purpose and making great strides, narrowing its parameters with each spade of dirt.

She was chasing the shadow away and turning their suffering into joy. He would not allow her to do it alone.

Stepping off the porch, he crossed the yard. Just as she took the long handled-shovel and was about to dig another row of holes, Lance grasped the handle and tugged it away.

Muddy streaks dirtied her face. Her nose was pink from crying and her cheeks flushed from exertion…but she had never looked more wonderful.

Without a word, he jammed the shovel in the ground and started the next row. They worked in silence, with determined purpose. Lance barely kept ahead of Madison, she moved so steadfast along the way. But she never stopped crying. Occasionally, tears dripped off her face, splattered her hands and the ground beneath. He wanted to tell her that her tears were God's way of watering the soil, making it fertile for new growth and healing. But he couldn't pause long enough.

After he'd dug the last hole, he fetched a large trash bag and stuffed the empty pony packs inside. Madison dropped the last flower into the ground, patted it firmly down, and rose to her feet. They surveyed their work, side by side, standing so close the backs of their hands brushed.

The shadow was gone. Completely gone. Ready to slide into evening, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, and still, every flower sparkled, kissed by its golden touch. The pansies lay low to the ground, like a blanket of purple velvet. Behind them, bright, yellow daffodils wavered on tender stalks, their round faces turned up to catch every last ray of blessed sunlight.

Purple and yellow. Patches of dark surrounded by light…like the canvas of Madison's life. A breathtaking picture, and he wondered if she knew how really beautiful it was.

Reaching out, he linked his fingers with hers and grasped her hand, palm to palm. Silently, they watched the sun set.

 

 

 

 

7

 

The choir's voices rose in a perfect crescendo. They'd chosen “Amazing Grace,” and the words struck Madison as more than perfect. On this day, Easter Sunday, she could only praise His name, thankful that He had not given up on her.

Sunshine streamed through the tall windows of The Falls Tabernacle. The choir sang with near angelic perfection and the man she loved…had always loved…sat beside her. She couldn't think of a more perfect blessing on this Resurrection day, unless, of course, that the man might love her back. But that was a dream, the long-lost dream of a young girl and Madison was no longer that girl. She was content to have his respect once again.

Since they'd worked together to drive away the shadow, the intense Lance with cutting animosity had disappeared. In his place, Madison found the good friend she had lost so long ago. She relished every moment of the newly established friendship, like a new leaf uncurling in springtime.

These had been almost perfect days. Lance had helped her gather the supplies for this afternoon's Easter brunch. When he'd offered to help, Madison had cocked a dubious brow.

“I promise,” he said, raising his hand in a scout's salute. “I'm excellent at checking items off lists and toting.”

Madison laughed, but it turned out he was also excellent at running back to the store for forgotten items. When he returned with bags full of the Easter candy, Madison was stacking baskets and goodies in the common room. Bright Easter colors surrounded them and the sweet smell of chocolate filled the air.