Blind Trust (3 page)

Now, there was even less than no hope.

She dialed her father’s number, got his machine, and said, “Dad, it’s me. Are you there?”

He picked up immediately. “Hi, honey. I was avoiding the press. They’re all over me with the Givanti case going on.”

She didn’t care about that. She only had the energy to deal with one thing at a time. “Dad, I thought you should know that Clint is back. I saw him today.”

Silence. Then, “What did he say?”

“Oh, not much. That he wants to resume things. No real explanation. At least, not one that makes sense.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re not alone, are you? I could come over—”

“Madeline’s here. I’m fine, Dad, really. I guess I should just be glad that he’s not dead. The mystery’s over. At least that part of it.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Silence again. “Honey, are you sure I can’t come over?”

“Positive, Dad. I’ll talk to you more tomorrow.”

“All right, honey. Have faith, okay? All things work together for good …”

“Yeah, I know. Bye, Dad.” She hung up, and sat wondering what good could come of this. Not for the first time, she wondered if she could even believe that Scripture anymore.

Chapter Two

I
f only I could explain,
Clint thought dismally as he stepped into the new office building for Grayson Builders, where Sherry worked with her brother, Wes. It was the day after his disastrous encounter with Sherry, and he hoped Wes might help him get through to Sherry somehow.

Clint caught his breath as he saw Sherry standing with her back to him, staring down with unseeing eyes at the blueprint on the table in front of her. She was thinking about him. He felt it as strongly as he felt that she still loved him, but the knowledge was not enough for him as long as she fought those feelings.

Eight months without her,
he thought with a shudder. Eight lonely, impatient months, wishing to God that one miserable night that changed his fate had never taken place. Eight months praying that someone else would not come along to replace him, that she would wait …

He watched her sweep her hair back from her face and hold it above her head, then let it fall in a helpless tumble. Her heavy sigh moved her shoulders, and she dropped her head. She was as tired as he was, he thought. The months had taxed her spirit, too. He wondered how many months it would take to get spirit back in either of them.

He had almost made her his wife. He had almost had the chance to begin a life with her. Instead, he was reduced to watching her from a distance, with the awestruck feelings of apprehension that he’d known when he’d first fallen in love with her. It had been a constant struggle to keep from voicing his feelings for her, when he’d met her at church and she had volunteered to help with the youth. But she had been involved with someone else—a cop who didn’t seem worthy of her, at least in Clint’s mind—so he had kept his feelings to himself. But when that relationship had ended, he felt the obstacles lifting, and he had lost the struggle with his heart …

I
t was the night of the youth Christmas production, and several volunteers had stayed behind to clean up. Sherry had been one of them, and he still remembered the sweet smiles she’d given him through the laughing faces, the bright blue twinkle of her eyes. Though he’d given no one any indication that he was interested in her, he felt that his interest was dreadfully obvious to everyone. When they had begun to leave one by one, he’d found other things to keep her busy so she would stay.

As soon as they were alone, he had scrounged up the courage to move their relationship to a different level.

“I really appreciate your help, Sherry,” he said. “The kids enjoy having you around. So do I.”

“Don’t misread it,” she’d said, and his soft smile had faded. “I think I’m doing it more for selfish reasons than any generosity.”

“Selfish reasons? Like what?”

She couldn’t make herself say it, and his heart had begun to burn as she’d turned away to close a box. He didn’t know what had come over him just then, but something had told him that her admission was an invitation. And he’d accepted it. He touched her shoulder and she turned around. As she looked up at him, her eyes seemed to twinkle with anticipation.

“Sherry, I heard you and Gary Rivers weren’t seeing each other anymore. Is that true?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“I’m sorry,” he lied.

Her smile told him not to be. “We weren’t right for each other, Clint. It had to happen sooner or later. God has better things for us.”

Their eyes had locked, and he’d desperately tried to read what was going through her mind. “Maybe it’s too soon,” he said, “but I was thinking that maybe you’d let me take you to dinner sometime.”

“I’d love to go to dinner with you. When?” The bold question had made him grin.

“How about tomorrow?”

“All right.” That twinkle in her eyes was more pronounced. “I’ll see you then. Seven o’clock?”

He thought about seven o’clock tomorrow night, and it seemed like an eternity away. “Okay. That’s great. But right now I’d love to sit down over a cup of coffee. Do you have to get home?”

Something about her easy smile had made this feel so right. “No. Why don’t we go to the coffee shop up the street?”

They had talked for hours, about his plans for his ministry, the kids they both loved, the dreams they shared …

And then he had walked her to her car.

He had always considered himself a strong man, a man who wasn’t easily moved, a man who kept his head. But something in her face had made him kiss her that night. The moment their lips met, he knew this wasn’t just an idle infatuation. There was something special about Sherry Grayson.

No other woman had ever made him want one moment to linger into eternity. No other woman had ever made him love so deeply that he would have given anything he owned to hold her for five more minutes …

And there had not been another woman since that night. He had loved her mind, her beauty, and her loving ability to give. His absence had only made those feelings stronger. No, he thought as he watched her. For him, there would never be another woman.

He started toward her, the buzz of a power saw outside muffling the sound of his footsteps across the floor.

H
ad he left her for another woman?
The sickening thought crossed Sherry’s mind as she stared, unfocused, at the blueprint Wes had asked her to make copies of. Had it been some idiotic, male desire that had wrenched him away? Hadn’t the love she’d believed in been a little too good to be true?

An hour hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought of you.
His words echoed in her mind.
Then why?
she wanted to cry out.
Why did you leave me?

As if in answer, the power saw outside cut off, and she heard footsteps behind her. She kept her head down, for she didn’t want Wes or any of the others to see the tears in her eyes. But a familiar scent drifted to her nostrils, and she stiffened as his roughened fingers closed gently around her arm.

She swung around. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” Clint said softly. “Sherry, we’ve got to talk. You have to trust me. You have to believe in what we had, even if what I tell you doesn’t make sense.”

“Get out,” she said.

“No, I won’t. You have to listen to me.”

“You haven’t said anything to listen
to
, Clint. Some cockamamy stuff about writing a book. Do you really think I’m so stupid—?”

“It’ll be clear soon, Sherry. Until then … I just want to see you. I’ve missed you. I would have risked almost anything to get back to you …”

“Risk?” she asked. “What kind of risk could it take? The risk of possible marital entrapment? Is that it?”

“No, Sherry. You know how much I wanted to marry you.”

Her face reddened and tears sprang to her eyes, and her face twisted with the effort of holding them back. “You’re a cruel man, Clint. I never would have believed that about you.”

Clint took a step toward her. “Don’t believe it now, Sherry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

He touched her shoulder, and Sherry turned away, unable to trust herself to face him. A tear seeped through her lashes, but she kept her eyes closed.

Clint lowered his mouth to her hair, kissed it, then pressed his forehead against her crown. She felt his chest brush against her back, felt the fusion of their hearts telling her that she had a dreadful fight on her hands if she intended to forget him.

“Don’t, Clint,” she whispered desperately, but in answer he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him.

“I still love you, Sherry,” he whispered next to her ear.

Why couldn’t she hate him? Why couldn’t she summon enough anger to push him away and convince him that there was no feeling? “But I don’t love you,” she said, her voice as stiff and unyielding as her body.

As if her words had no meaning, he tightened his embrace. “It’s so good to hold you again,” he murmured against her neck.

“Let go of me, Clint.” Her voice broke as she spoke, and she longed to extract herself from his embrace before her brimming emotions burst. Pulling herself together, she said it again more firmly. “Let go of me.”

Clint turned her to face him, forcing her to look up into his pleading eyes. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me,” he challenged. “Your eyes don’t lie. They never have.”

Sherry’s cheeks stung. “This is not a game, Clint.”

“Look me in the eye and say it,” he repeated.

A moment of silence rippled between them as Sherry looked up into his opaque black eyes and summoned all the strength she contained. “I don’t love you anymore.”

Clint’s eyes bore into hers, searching, finding, measuring. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Fine, then,” she said, her face burning. “Delude yourself. I don’t care what you think.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Sherry swatted at her tears and stepped backward. “It has to do with anger, Clint, and resentment. Nothing else. Play your games on someone else. I’m all used up.”

“I know the feeling,” he said, finally allowing her the distance she so desperately needed. “But I can make it up to you.”

“No, you can’t. Not when it was so easy for you to waltz out and waltz back in. I’ll never trust you again.”

He reached for her, but Sherry recoiled, stepping back into a model of a fourteen story building. The structure tumbled over and crashed on the floor. Suddenly, a man bolted through the double doors of the office, hand poised under his nylon windbreaker.

“It’s okay,” Clint yelled quickly, stopping him with a raised hand. “It was the model.”

The man—the same one who’d been with Clint in the car yesterday—assessed the situation briefly, flashed Sherry an innocent, composed smile, then sauntered away as if going for a summer stroll.

Forgetting the collapsed model and the rush of emotion that caused her to back into it, Sherry brought her distrustful eyes back to Clint. “Is that the man who was with you in the Bronco yesterday?”

Clint stooped down and began to pick up the pieces. “Sam’s a friend of mine.”

Sherry wasn’t satisfied. “What is he doing here? Why did he come running like that?”

“He’s funny that way,” Clint evaded. He stood up, and she noted the deep lines running like fissures between his eyebrows, lines that hadn’t been there months ago. He brushed his hands off and set them on his hips. “Do you want to meet him?”

“No, I don’t need to meet your new friend, thank you.”

“But Sherry—”

Before he could detain her again, she was out the door, hurrying across the lawn as if her sanity depended on it.

For she was certain it did.

S
herry sat on the chaise lounge by the pool, letting the sun pour down on her. It had been too much for her to go home and continue feigning composure for the benefit of Madeline, who often came home to work when things at her Promised Land studio got too crazy. So she had come here, to her father’s house, knowing he was in court and wouldn’t be home.

If she could have cried, some of the soul-deep sadness might have been relieved, but suddenly her eyes were as dry as barren craters in godforsaken earth. Her despair found new levels, even beneath the agony that Clint’s leaving had caused. What disturbed her now was that Clint had betrayed her in such a devastating way, then thought he could erase it all with a simple touch and some whispered words of regret.