Bridge to Haven (57 page)

Men’s voices came from outside. He heard McGillicuddy, Chet, and Javier. They must have gone to the bar because they didn’t sound like they were feeling any pain. Doors opened, closed. Silence. Minutes passed. His heart kept racing. A truck went by, heading out for the Mojave, a night run.

He had to be up early tomorrow. He needed to get some sleep. He untied and took off his work boots, then stripped off his socks. He unbuttoned and yanked off his shirt, flinging it with needless violence into the chair.

Restless, he went into the bathroom and washed his face with cold water. He brushed his teeth. He paced the room, unbuckling his belt. Leather whistled against denim as he pulled it from the loops and tossed it on the bed.

He didn’t know he was waiting until he heard the tap on his door. His pulse rocketed. He knew who was there and what could happen.
He opened the door a few inches. Abra stood under the dying light, looking broken and vulnerable. “You shouldn’t be here, Abra. People might see you and get the wrong idea about us.”

She looked at his bare chest and bare feet, her gaze flitting away in embarrassment. Still, that one brief look had its impact. “I don’t care, Joshua.”

“I do.” She’d seen him without a shirt before, but he felt the awareness between them. It shook him. His hand tightened on the door.

“Can I come in? Just for a few minutes.”

Temptation wrapped its arms around him and whispered in his ear. He fought against it. “We can talk tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to talk, Joshua.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “I want you to hold me.”

He let out his breath sharply and went hot all over.

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean
that
.” She bit her lip. “I mean the way you used to hold me. When I was a kid and . . .”

He saw the sheen of tears in her eyes and curbed the instinct to pull her inside his room and enfold her in his arms. “We’re not children anymore, Abra.”

“Nobody cares what we do.”

“God cares.
I
care.”

She sighed softly. “You’ve been like a brother to me.”

She was lying to herself as well as to him. “But I’m not your brother, am I?”

He saw her eyes flicker, fill with self-recrimination, and then clear. Her face softened. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could go back to the way things were?”

“In some ways.” He wanted to keep moving forward. At least the tension between them had eased. He could breathe a little easier. “Try to get some sleep.”

She stepped back with a smile, relaxed now. “It’s nice to know you’re on the other side of the wall.”

Joshua didn’t close his door until she’d gone back into her room. Stretching out on the bed again, he put his arms behind his head, listening to the soft squeak of her mattress.

Someday, God willing, there would be no walls between them.

The buildings lining Main Street of movie town looked weatherworn, the street dusty and unpaved. The crew had gone on to earn gold elsewhere, making it a ghost town on the cusp of rediscovery. Abra walked ahead of Joshua. She stepped up onto the boardwalk and pushed through the swinging doors of the saloon.

The bar had a brass rail and an ornate mirror mounted on the wall. She started up the stairs. Joshua came through the doors. “Careful. The railing above is breakaway.”

She looked over and gave a breathless laugh. “It won’t be a star that makes the fall. It’ll be a stunt double.” She tried a door. It didn’t open.

“It’s all for show. Nothing but air on the other side.”

“Impressive work. A brand-new ghost town.” She came downstairs. She looked around. All it needed were props and actors to make it feel real. “Franklin wanted me to audition for this movie. I’d have played the part of a dance hall girl with a heart of gold. He said it would be the next step to making me a star.” She ran her hands over the bar and came away dusty. “He had such dreams for Lena.”

“I imagine you could go back to Hollywood.”

“Why?”

“Sounds like you miss it.”

Did she? She had enjoyed wearing beautiful clothes, having heads turn when she walked into a restaurant or party, but the price had been too high. She had to lose herself. It had always felt like an
alien environment to her, one where she could never be comfortable. Whenever the cameras rolled, she felt like a fraud, just waiting for a director to ask what she thought she was doing on the set. She had watched other actresses work, admiring their skill and the love they had for the work. She had tried to fit in, but she hated standing in front of cameras with those lenses like eyes that could see into her very soul.

“I tried to be Lena Scott, but Abra Matthews kept fighting to get out.”

“Did you make any friends?”

“I can think of two who might have become friends, but I didn’t let them get close enough.” It seemed to be a pattern in her life. Joshua didn’t press. They went back outside and walked along the boardwalk.

She felt the tension grow between them. “Now that the town is finished, you’ll be leaving soon.”

“I paid my bill at the motel. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

The news took her breath away. “So soon?”

He gave her a wry look. “Not all that soon, Abra.”

“No. I guess not.” He’d been warning her for days the job was coming to an end, and so was his time with her in Agua Dulce.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” His tone was gentle now, interested, but not pressing. He was a good actor, too.

Two pickup trucks towing trailers had driven past the diner this morning. The film company would arrive soon, bringing props and costumes. A catering service would be handling meals. Bea’s motel had been fine for a few carpenters, but better accommodations had been arranged for the actors. Bea said she could have the room until the end of the week, and then Abra would have to start paying.

Had she done as Franklin wanted, Abra might have been the star of
Desert Rose
, living in a fancy trailer between takes in that saloon Joshua had built. Instead, she had three simple, decent dresses, a
pair of sandals and white tennis shoes, and a zippered tote bag. Her last paycheck and the tips from the diner would be enough for a bus ticket, meals, and a couple of days in a cheap motel in Las Vegas.

“I’ll figure it out, Joshua.” She touched his arm. She owed him so much. “I’m not your problem.”

She’d run away from home to find home. She’d traveled with a devil who led her to dry water holes and a barren wasteland filled with desert beasts of prey.
Stop at the crossroads and look around,
a soft voice whispered.
Ask for the old, godly way, and walk in it. Travel its path, and you will find rest for your soul.

She’d heard the same message in Haven and had said, “No, that’s not the road I want.” Now she knew the road she had thought would lead to freedom had only led to despair.

Her mind told her what had been wrong could never be made right. What had been missing could never be recovered. But her heart hoped.

She could make a good living on her own. All she had to do was resurrect Lena Scott and find some enterprising club owner willing to hire her to play piano in his bar. Lilith Stark had taught her how scandal could be good for business. Newspaper reporters would come flocking. Dylan would come knocking.

Lena Scott or Abra Matthews? Which do you want to be?

Live a lie or live in the truth. It all came down to that.

She couldn’t pretend God wasn’t interested in her anymore. Who but God could have put Joshua in Agua Dulce and then brought her to him?
“I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see. . . .”
The hymns kept coming back, quatrains singing inside her head. Whose prayers had God been answering? Hers or Joshua’s?

Pastor Zeke, Priscilla, Peter, and Mitzi had all talked about God’s mercy. She’d never really listened. Maybe it was time to seek Him. She wanted to come out of the shadows into the open and let God burn away all the bad in her, the selfishness, the conceit, the pride. But it
was a frightening prospect. God might send her somewhere else she didn’t want to go.
I wonder if God will send me to Africa.
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken the words aloud until Joshua looked at her.

“Africa? Why would He do that?”

She shrugged, embarrassed. “Isn’t that where God sends people who give their lives to Him?”

He stopped, his eyes filling with a sudden brightness. “Is that what you want? To give your life to God?”

She didn’t want to give him false hope. “I don’t know, Joshua.” She kept walking. “I still have—” she tried to think of the right word—“reservations.”

“Even people with rock-solid faith struggle at times, Abra.”

“You never did.”

He gave a short laugh. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a monumental battle with Him for quite a while now.”

“You?”

“Yeah. Me. He let me have my way long enough to know it wouldn’t work. But I exhausted myself in trying.”

“When was that?”

He gave her a droll look. “When I went looking for you the first time. And the second.” He lifted his head, a muscle tightening in his jaw. “And now, when I’m going to leave you behind.”

Again, that hard thrust to her heart. She slipped her arm through his and put her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a trial to you. I’ll go back to Haven someday. I just don’t think I’m ready right now.” She’d write first, test the waters, and see if Peter and Priscilla wanted to see her. Then, maybe . . .

I have not given you a spirit of fear and timidity.

She could scarcely remember a time in her life when she hadn’t been afraid.

Joshua slowed. “You’ll never get things right until you go back to where they went wrong.”

She removed her arm from his. Go back. Take the blame. Face the shame. She would have to be Abra Matthews, with all her flaws and frailties, all her failures, her history laid bare. She would be held accountable for the suffering she’d caused others. She had always felt exposed in front of cameras. In Haven, there would be no place to hide. Everyone knew her story: the unwanted baby abandoned under the bridge, then passed from one family to another.

I knit you together in your mother’s womb. You are mine.

She felt a quickening inside her, and it frightened her. It would be easier and less painful to ride a bus to Las Vegas. She could become Lena Scott again, a girl no one ever really knew, least of all poor Franklin.
Make up a new life as you go.
An enticing thought.

At what cost, Abra?

She had never counted the cost before. Joshua said God had a plan for her life. Maybe she should wait for that instead of going her own way. All the plans she’d made for herself up to now had led to devastation.

Words tumbled through her mind—long-forgotten words she’d heard or read.
“I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence!”
The writer hadn’t wanted to get away. He’d wanted to get close.
“As the deer longs for streams of water, so I long for you, O God.”

Where was she most likely to find Him? Anywhere. Everywhere.

Another hymn melody came, lyrics slipping through her mind.
“Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish, come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel. Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish: Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.”

She blinked and let out a soft breath. Why did all those old hymns Mitzi had taught her come back so clearly now? They tormented her with promises that felt just out of reach, just beyond her grasping fingertips.

“Ready to go back?”

Abra glanced up and saw the shadows beneath Joshua’s eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well either, and he would need to get a good night’s sleep before the long drive north to Haven. He didn’t ask if she wanted to drive. She would’ve said no if he had.

The air had turned cool, the North Star appearing in the heavens. He didn’t take her hand as they walked back to the truck. She wished it were a more companionable silence.

“I won’t say good-bye, Joshua.”

When he didn’t respond, she wondered if he’d heard her.

“I’ll write to you. I promise.”

He drove, eyes straight ahead, unspeaking. He didn’t look angry or sad. He looked resolved.

A few lights were still on inside the diner. Clarice and Rudy sat in a booth, talking. She knew they had a decision to make, too. Would they close down or try to keep the place going one more year?

Joshua made a wide turn and aimed the truck at the parking space in front of his room. He set the parking brake, turned off the engine, and removed the keys. He didn’t move and the silence pressed down on her.

She felt the heat of tears building, but held them back. Would he try one last time to talk her into going home? Did he think her a fool? Hadn’t she always been just that?

She didn’t know he was holding his breath until he exhaled sharply. “Well, I guess this is it.”

It
sounded like the end. “I guess it is.”