A Season for Family (14 page)

I
t was two days before her very first Thanksgiving at Table of Hope and Olivia's heart was full to overflowing with emotion.

Tonight she was surrounded by friends. Tomorrow they'd help prepare the huge holiday meal and then welcome returning clients in the afternoon. Thursday her new family would spend Thanksgiving together, and then on Friday she'd concentrate on learning something about each interior decorator and art collector on the list Lance had provided. It was unbelievable, but on Saturday she would be the guest of honor at Studio Gallery, making her debut as a local artist.

Father, forgive me. This shower of blessings should be plenty for anyone, but a busy schedule isn't enough to crowd thoughts of Heath from my mind. He'll be gone before I know it and my first touch of love will be nothing more than a scar on my heart. Help me to let go of myself while we worship tonight, Lord. Let it be all about You and nothing about me.

“I knew it!” Velma was triumphant.

Olivia raised her eyes from the well-worn Bible open on her lap. Velma had plopped front and center into the
row of chairs set up for study. Her eyes were clear of fever and sparkling once again with the pure mischief Olivia had come to love in her friend.

“Knew what?” She was almost afraid to find out.

“You got it goin' on with that good lookin' fella.”

“I don't have anything
goin' on,
period.”

“Oh, please, girl. I'd have to be one of the three blind mice to miss the way he looks at you.”

Olivia's insides quaked. “And just what is it you've noticed?”

“Since you're shamelessly asking, I'm gonna tell ya.” Velma's grin spread wider and she slid her chair close.

“That man would hardly raise his head from his plate a few days ago for fear somebody might look him in the eye. But if you asked him what we had for dinner tonight, I doubt he could say. He was watching you and brooding like a love-struck teen. And you weren't much better.”

Velma was right. As glad as Olivia was to focus on her friends and catch up on the past few days, her attention kept straying to Heath. It would have been easier to stop drawing breath than to ignore him at her table. Each time their eyes locked, it was like their hands touching, their spirits embracing.

Heath loves me.

Olivia was certain of it, knew it as sure as she knew the sun would come up in the morning. Whatever fueled his reluctance to admit his feelings was just as strong as the excitement that had forced her to tell him how she felt. But nothing was more powerful than the God she served and Olivia trusted His plan more than she trusted human emotions. Still, the urge to fight this battle on her own was almost overwhelming.

“That obvious, huh?” Olivia acknowledged Velma's
astuteness. Her hand settled on Olivia's knee to emphasize that something important was coming.

“There's no shame in it, Miss Livvy. So don't think you have to hide it under a bushel basket.”

Olivia smiled. “That's exactly what Heath said to me about my painting.”

“He's good lookin'
and
smart. You could do a whole lot worse.”

The others began to find their seats so Velma scooted her chair away and took up her Bible. Peggy and Mary Sue claimed the seats beside Velma. Heath sat on the end, arms folded across his chest. His body language still said he was closed off, but Olivia knew better.

She opened their time together with a prayer of thanks and then moved straight into the story of Jonah and his call to preach repentance to the seafaring city of Nineveh.

“Most everybody knows the action-adventure part of the story. Jonah ran away from God's command and boarded a ship headed in the opposite direction. During a storm he was thrown overboard by the crew, but God saved Jonah's life by sending a great fish to swallow him whole. Inside the belly of the fish he spent three days and nights crying out to God and in His mercy God commanded the fish to spit Jonah out on dry land.”

“I can sure relate to having something in your belly that wants out!” Bruce teased.

“Please.” Heath blocked the very thought by covering his ears with both hands. “No reminders. Those were the grossest few days of my life.”

“We'd have been in a world of hurt if you hadn't come along when you did and been willing to do the dirty work,” Amos admitted.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Bruce added. Nick nodded, too.

“Trust me, if I'd known community service was gonna involve helping you guys in and out of the shower, I'd have opted for thirty days in the hole.”

The men shared companionable laughter, obviously bonded through the dire circumstances.

“And speaking of community service—” Olivia winked at the ladies as she wrestled the men's attention back to their study. “What Jonah did for Nineveh is the part of this story we might not remember because we get stuck on the amazing transportation God used to deliver His messenger.” She waited for more snickers.

“The message is always the most important part and in this case it saved a population almost exactly the same size as Waco.”

“For real?” Nick asked.

“The Scripture calls Nineveh a great city of over 120,000 people. God planned to destroy them all.”

“So, Jonah's visit was that important?”

“It wasn't Jonah's visit, Nick. It was his obedience. The ironic thing is the people of Nineveh respected God—they just wouldn't obey Him.”

Amos joined in the explanation. “They were too big for their britches, thinkin' they could behave any which way and get away with it. The Lord gives us a lot of rope and the free will to decide what to do with it. If we're smart, we tie one end to Him and hang on to the other for dear life. If we're too smart for our own good we wrap that rope around our necks and jump off a cliff. Those are the times when we find out that if our anchor isn't Jesus Christ we're just free-fallin' fools.” Amos looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry for taking over, Miss Livvy, but I've been there and done that. These young folks can learn something from an old man if they'll just have some respect for the voice of experience.”

“Amos is right,” Peggy added. “We choose our paths every day and we have only ourselves to blame when things go wrong. Eventually, God gets fed up. The Ninevites were so filled with wickedness, He decided to destroy them. But first He gave them one last chance.”

“By sending Jonah, you mean?” Nick was engrossed in the story.

“Exactly.” Olivia prepared to wrap up the lesson. “Jonah preached and warned that they had forty days to repent and then their city would be decimated. Everyone, from the king right down to the last dock worker knew Jehova God meant business. They put on itchy sackcloth, went without food and spent all their time praying for God to change His mind. Velma, would you read Jonah 3:10 for us, please?”

“When God saw what they did and how they turned from their evil ways, He had compassion and did not bring upon them the destruction He had threatened.”

“But those were Old Testament times. God doesn't destroy whole cities like that anymore.”

“Nick, God can do anything He wants to do.” Every eye in the room was on Heath as he spoke. “His authority hasn't diminished since the days of Jonah. And neither has His ability to forgive people who change their ways.”

Silence hung in the room as if everyone held their breath.

“Heath's right,” Olivia agreed. “God asks for repentance and obedience and in return He shows compassion.”

“And then everything's okay?” Nick's voice was hopeful.

“You know better than that.” Heath spoke up again. “I'm sure there was still plenty of suffering in Nineveh
to go around, but God did spare their lives. Even though He's the God of second chances, it's up to us to do things right after He forgives us. And even with forgiveness there are still consequences. Sooner or later bad choices catch up with everybody.”

Olivia's ribs ached from the frantic pounding of her heart beneath her sweater. Heath really did get what his parents had tried to give him all those years ago. The Word was down deep inside him and it just needed God's perfect timing to rise up out of his spirit.

Thank You, Father!

 

Heath worried that he'd said too much. Where did he get off adding his two cents, as if anybody cared? It wasn't his place to speak up during Olivia's teaching. Still, there was a sweet look of peace on her beautiful face, as if she was glad for his participation.

“Thank you, Miss Livvy,” Nick spoke up.

His face had gone so white Heath thought the boy might pass out.

“That's what I needed to hear tonight. I've missed everyone—” Nick's voice broke away. He nearly choked on his words.

Olivia nodded at Bruce, who said the closing prayer and then suggested they meet in the kitchen so he could hand out tomorrow's assignments.

Heath hung back, watched as Amos slipped a grand-fatherly arm over Nick's shoulder and guided him away from the big room.

Peggy waved goodbye, promising to be back with the sunrise.

When they were alone, Heath apologized. Sorta.

“I can't seem to stop pokin' my nose into your business.”

“Making disciples is everybody's business. It was cool to see you making it yours, too.”

“So, what I said was okay?”

“It was perfect. Solomon wrote that when parents train their children correctly, they'll remember their faith when they're grown. I'd say your folks deserve a pat on the back for a job well done.”

Heath nodded. In a couple days he'd tell his mama face-to-face that she hadn't just been spinning her wheels after all.

“Your parents did well in other ways, too, Heath. I know you don't think of yourself as a gentleman, but that's what you've become.”

His scalp prickled, as if the blood were quickly draining from his head and face. And from his heart. He was a snake, as cold-blooded, calculating and deceitful as the serpent in the Bible. When Olivia learned the truth, she'd want to crush his gentleman's ways beneath the heel of her boot.

“Why do you keep overlooking my flaws and giving me the benefit of the doubt? I don't deserve that,” he insisted.

“Heath, you're the only one who's obsessing about your perceived faults, so they must bother you. If you don't intend to change those things, then concentrate on the positives in your life—”

He interrupted by taking hold of Olivia's wrists and pulling her close. He guided her hands up around his neck, released his grip and slipped his arms around her slender waist. She waited, dark eyes staring up into his face, unwilling to take the initiative this time.

“Olivia, you are the most amazing woman I've ever met, so that qualifies
you
as the positive thing in my
life. If I concentrate on you for a moment, would you stop making excuses for me?”

“I'll do my best.”

Heath saw the glimmer of a smile begin to curve her lips. When he covered her mouth with his the grin slipped away, a sigh resonated in her throat. He pressed her close, spreading his fingers wide across Olivia's slender back to pull her nearer.

Her hands were soft and warm on the back of his neck. He sizzled from her touch on his nearly shaved head to the tips of his toes, sensations he'd never expected to experience. She leaned into him, perfectly made for him in every way.

“Ahem.” Amos fake coughed and knocked on the door.

Heath's arms slid away from her body as they moved apart. Olivia's face had never looked more beautiful, flushed pink as it was from their kiss. Her brows knitted and she pressed fingers to her lips, as if worried that she had only imagined the moment.

“I apologize for interrupting but most everybody's about to call it a day. Before I hit the hay I need a word with you, Heath. Then you can finish your
conversation
with Miss Livvy.”

What Amos really meant was
once I've had my say you can get back to your monkey business if you dare.
Heath was no boy who deserved a trip to the wood-shed. Even if he had been caught red-handed by the very person who expected the worst of him, he was still a grown man.

Olivia was very much a grown woman and they'd done nothing to be ashamed of.

Amos turned, stomped away. They stood still until the footsteps faded. Olivia's eyes were downcast. Was
she disappointed that he'd kissed her or disappointed that the kiss had ended too soon?

“I think we'd better say goodnight.” He touched her chin, raised it so her gaze met his.

“May I ask a big favor, Heath?”

“Name it.”

“Would you please drive back over for my art gallery launch on Saturday? It would mean so much to have you there.”

“It's a date.”

Olivia nodded, and then wisely turned to leave the room. She slowed at the door, looked back. “I'll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Where else would I be?” he insisted, as if the question was absurd.

But if circumstances unfolded as expected, he might be called anywhere in the city in the next twenty-four hours. And after that he'd be back on his home turf, starting the new life his calls today had set into motion.

The oddest sensation thickened his throat and wouldn't be swallowed down. He held one arm outward, unable to miss the trembling in his hand. It was something he hadn't experienced in years.

Fear.

Not of a drug deal that might go wrong. Or of a family who wouldn't be patient with him while he became the man he wanted to be.

The fear was stronger than any he'd ever known.

Heath was afraid of losing Olivia.

“H
ave you spoken to Heath today?” Olivia asked for the third time that morning since she'd come downstairs. Nobody had talked to him. Nobody had even seen him since their Bible study the night before.

Amos shuffled across the kitchen floor with a heavy tray of candied yams. He eased it into one of the wall-mounted ovens and then double-checked the temperature before turning to face her.

“Can't say as I have,” he answered her question as he wiped his hands on the skirt of his apron.

“You two didn't exchange cross words last night, did you?”

“What would make you suspect such a thing?” Amos was brimming with more sarcasm than usual.

Olivia mentally counted to ten when what she really wanted to do was bounce him out if he'd been meddling. But Amos was like a grandfather, so it was natural that he'd turn a critical eye on any man who showed her attention.

Not that there had been such a man before or might ever be again!

“Amos, I know you don't approve of what you saw last night.”

He scowled and growled, a toothless old papa bear still defending his grown cub.

She moved close, wrapped him in a hug. She patted his back, feeling how much thinner he was since his bout with flu.

“I'm twenty-seven years old. You don't want me to be alone forever, do you?”

“Of course not,” he muttered near her ear and then leaned back to look into her face. “But kissin' that toad won't make him turn into Prince Charming.”

She smiled at Amos, gave his shoulders a playful shake. “Heath will be gone in a day or two, so where's the harm?”

“Right there.” Amos tapped his index finger just below her left collarbone. “I'm afraid the harm's already been done. I just hope it's not permanent.”

“I love him, Amos.” The quiet admission burst out.

“Oh, good gravy. You don't know anything about the guy.” Amos's whiskered jaw sagged, his arms fell away as if they were suddenly made of petrified wood.

“I know more than you probably think, and it's enough for me.”

Amos shook his head and moved behind the prep counter.

“Heath's an honorable man with values and morals. You said yourself—we'd have been up a creek without him.”

“Yeah, well, now your heart will be up a creek because of him and I don't like that one bit.”

Olivia was about to give up on the conversation. She'd already said too much and it hadn't accomplished
a thing, apart from upsetting Amos. She needed to find Heath.

“So, did you and Heath have words last night or not?”

“Not. Nick needed some advice and I thought having an opinion from a man closer to his own age might help. Last time I saw the two of them they'd stepped outside to talk privately.”

“Thanks, I'll see what Nick can tell me.”

“Nick's gone back to Waco General at least for the day.”

“What? Why don't I know anything about this?”

“I'm sure you noticed he was green around the gills after supper. Peggy took one look at him this morning and drove him right back over to the hospital to sleep it off there. Said she wasn't having anybody sick in the same building where she was making forty dozen biscuits and five gallons of giblet gravy.”

“That's certainly understandable, but I wish somebody would clue me in on this stuff beforehand.”

“You've got your own to-do list to worry about and everything's under control in the kitchen. We'll be okay without Nick since Peggy and her husband are both here today.”

“Where do you want this?” Detective Biddle stood in the doorway with a fifty-pound sack of flour hoisted on his shoulder.

“In that far corner,” Peggy instructed from right behind him. “Set it inside that galvanized tub so I can get to it as I need it.”

“Good morning, you two. Sorry I'm so late coming downstairs.” Olivia's guilt meter was in the red zone. She'd spent entirely too much time on the phone with Lance, answering his questions about her paintings. He
was putting a brochure together and with time so compressed between the holiday and the meet-and-greet he had to get the information right away. “I should have my head examined for taking on something else this weekend.”

“That's nonsense,” Peggy disagreed. “The timing couldn't be more perfect and God dropped it right into your lap by using Heath the way He did to introduce you to that gallery owner.”

“Speaking of Heath, nobody's seen him since last evening and I'm kind of worried. Could he get into trouble for being missing in action today?” Olivia looked to Biddle for an answer.

“You said he's been working around the clock, right?

“Yep, puts in twenty-hour days,” Amos spoke up.

“Then his obligation has been more than fulfilled and he's free to return to Austin.”

“Since it's a holiday week, maybe he had plans,” Peggy chimed in.

“That's my guess. I bet his mama's cookin' a big Thanksgiving dinner for their family. We really don't know that much about him.” Amos's unnecessary words stung, but there was truth in what he said.

Olivia had seen such a change in Heath in a short time. The sullen, self-centered person who'd come through the door on the first afternoon was gone. A man with compassion and renewed faith had blossomed inside that tall, lanky body. His light was no longer hidden, it flickered with promise. It made sense that he'd want to share such positive changes with his family.

But does that have to exclude me, Lord?

Hours later Olivia wondered how was it possible for the day to fly by and drag on at the same time.
She worked through her to-do list, never once having her mind clear of Heath. Where could he be and why would he run out on her—today of all days? It should be fun preparing the feast and decorating for the holiday. Instead it was a chore with little joy.

“Miss Livvy, I think we need to start check-in early today, don't you? It's already below freezin' and people are starting to show up. We can't let 'em hang around outside in this cold.”

“Of course, Velma. Go ahead and take in clients as they arrive. We have plenty of hot drinks and snacks in the big room to tide us over until it's time to heat pizzas and start the movie.”

“That was a good idea you had for tonight. Something easy to fix and a movie that will get folks settled early so we can keep workin' on tomorrow's dinner.”

“Actually, it was Heath's idea.” One of the many he'd jotted down on the legal pad in her office.

“Where is he today, anyway?” Velma asked. She looked around as if expecting him to be nearby.

Olivia hitched both shoulders, trying not to let the deep sadness in her spirit show on her face.

“You're kidding?” Velma caught on anyway.

“Nobody's seen him since last night.”

“Should we call the cops?”

“He's not a missing child, Velma. We don't need to file an Amber Alert.”

“Did you at least tell Detective Biddle?”

“I mentioned it and he reminded me that technically Heath is free to go back to Austin whenever he's ready.”

“Did you think to check the impound lot to find out if he'd picked up his car? I sure hope he's not afoot in
this cold. That old coat of his wouldn't make a good bathmat. It'd be worthless on a night like tonight.”

“He's a grown man.” Olivia tried to sound convincing. “He makes his own decisions and if he up and decided to leave last night that's nobody's business but his.”

“But what if he—”

Velma got a
talk to the hand
gesture in her face and then Olivia tapped on the back of her wrist to indicate the time.

“It's getting late and you said yourself people need to be checked in.”

Taking the hint, Velma trudged away.

“I'm just sayin',” she muttered, loud enough to be heard.

Olivia felt a lump of despair gathering in her throat. She made a beeline for her private stairwell and sprinted up the steps. Inside the apartment she leaned her backside against the door, and cupped both hands together over her breastbone. She felt the painful trembling of her heart where it shuddered deep inside her body. She gulped for air as her gaze roamed the strangely unfamiliar walls. They were suddenly white, devoid of all color and movement. Devoid of the love that touched them for a time.

Like me, like my life.

She bent at the waist to catch her breath, determined not to cry.

“Oh, Father, why would You send me love and then rip it away? Why would You let me feel this abandonment again?”

The black phone rang. She straightened, crossed to the small kitchen and lifted the receiver to her ear assuming it was Velma or Amos.

“I'll be downstairs in a minute.”

“It's me.”

Olivia held her breath, afraid to exhale. Fear and pressure expanded in her lungs till she thought they might burst.

Heath leaned against the cold brick wall, sheltered from the wind but still chilled to the marrow. “I'm sorry I left without so much as a note. I thought I'd be back by now.”

“You're coming back?”

“Probably not.”

“Heath, what's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?” He squeezed his eyes tight against the worry in her voice.

“Nothin' I can't handle, but I have to head home tonight.” He prayed he'd be sleeping in his own bed and not on a tray in the morgue.

“Detective Biddle's been here all day. Is there something he can do to help you?”

“No, but I'd appreciate it if you'd let him know I checked in with you. And if you find anything I left behind, he'll know where to send it.”

“Okay.” She was a dry twig about to break. Another woman's patience would have snapped already.

Heath could just imagine righteous anger reaching the boiling point in Olivia's core. That was good. She needed to think his main concern was being off the community service hook. She needed to remember that he was a selfish creep.

A creep who loved her and might never get the chance to say so again in this life.

“Olivia, listen to me. I need to tell you something.”

“Sure, whatever.” She was fed up with his needs, his drama, his glass that might always be half-empty.
She ought to hang up the phone, but she didn't. She waited.

“I love you.” He said the words as tenderly as his chattering teeth would allow.

She was silent. What was she thinking?

“I want to thank you for everything you've taught me about myself, and about God.”

“Why are you being so secretive, disappearing like this?” she demanded to know. “If you love me, then we can work this out, Heath. Living an hour apart is not a death sentence.”

Depending on how things went down tonight, just living in the same state could be a death sentence. But she could never know that.

“It's not about logistics.”

“Then what is it about, Heath? Please, talk to me.” Her anger turned to pleading.

The team was waiting, one of the men signaling for him to join them.

“I don't have time to explain. I have to go.”

“Heath—”

“I love you, Olivia.”

His thumb mashed the OFF button of the secured cell and he slid it through the neck of his body armor, down into a thermal shirt pocket.

“Lord, You put me into Olivia's life for this moment, to protect her. Please let me live long enough to find out if You have other plans for us, too.”

He tugged a navy wool cap close around his blackened face and gave the Glock in his shoulder holster a reassuring touch.

“Time to surprise the bad guys. Let's roll.”