Bridge to Haven (63 page)

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and rocked her gently against him, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t try so hard. It’s going to be good between us.”

Dad had years of counseling experience behind him, and they had talked about what Abra might feel after what she’d been through. She’d been abused and used, never loved. It was understandable she’d shut down, retreat inside herself. Dad talked about what a honeymoon was meant to be. Tonight wouldn’t be just about their sexual union; it would be about finding ways for Joshua to show his bride how much he cherished her, that she could trust him completely, that he intended to restore her and lift her up and love her.

It would be a night of patience as well as passion—if he could hold his desire in check long enough. He’d laughed a little when admitting that to Dad, and Dad told him to bring God into the midst of everything, to ask for self-control. Joshua had fasted and prayed that his physical needs wouldn’t win out over his desire to give Abra whatever time she needed. Now he breathed in the unique scent of her, and his head swam.

Oh, Lord, I’m walking in a minefield. Help me reach my wounded bride. Help me bring a healing touch.

He took his arm from her, remembering she’d barely eaten at the wedding reception. “God bless Priscilla for thinking of this.” Joshua smeared Brie on a cracker and held it out to her. “I planned our meals through the end of the week, but I didn’t think about tonight. We didn’t get much of a chance to eat, did we?” He smiled into her eyes. She broke his heart. He didn’t like seeing that look in her eyes, nor thinking about who and what had put it there.

She nibbled at the cracker and set it on the side table. Joshua took
the cue and set the basket aside. They’d eat later. “We’ve known each other all our lives, Abra. But this is new territory, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Her voice caught softly and he felt her increasing tension.

“Do you trust me?”

She looked at him, studying his face. “Yes.” She took a shaky breath. “How did you ever find this place?”

He knew delaying the inevitable wasn’t going to make things any easier for her. “Jack told me about it. He and Reka come out a couple times a year.” He stood and held out his hands. Hers were cold. “The owner is an architect. He lives in San Francisco and doesn’t get up here very often. So he rents the place out. There’s a nice stretch of beach right across the street. You’ll see it in the morning. We can take a walk whenever we want.”

He drew her close, felt her body trembling. “It’s okay, Abra.” He spoke gently, his lips against her hair. “We’re going to take our time tonight.” Her heightened breathing against his throat aroused him. He brushed a few curls back from her temple. “We’re in no hurry.” This wasn’t going to be a drag race down a backcountry road, but the Indianapolis 500.

“Oh, Joshua.” Her tone implied she knew better than he what to expect of this night.

He lifted her chin. “I love you.” He kissed her the way he’d longed to do for weeks. She tasted like heaven, and he savored her. “I cherish you.” He took his time and felt her body relaxing, growing warm. She moved closer, and desire rose in him like a fire. He drew back a little, banking it. She gave a soft sigh, eyes closed. He unbuttoned her wool jacket and smoothed it back off her shoulders, then sucked in his breath sharply when she tried to unbuckle his belt. “No.” He captured her hands and drew them up over his shoulders. If she started touching him below the waist, it would all be over. “I want us to get to know each other.”

“We already know each other, Joshua.”

“I know your mind and heart, Abra. I want to know your body, what you need, what pleases you.” Her eyes flickered with surprise and grew moist. “I want to undress you. Are you ready for me to do that?”

Abra gathered her courage and nodded because she couldn’t trust her voice to answer. Her skin burned under his fingers’ touch. He removed each layer, like layers of wrapping paper hiding a precious gift marked
Fragile: Handle with care
. He removed everything but his mother’s cross necklace, and then looked at her in wonder. When his gentle hands moved down over her, she shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” Was that throaty voice hers? Abra felt a sense of wonder, an inner assurance.

Cast all your fears away, beloved.
Everything was going to be different with Joshua.

“You’re so beautiful.” His hands moved over her body. “So soft.”

She drew in her breath as currents of warmth and sensation swept through her. When he smiled at her, she smiled at him. He took her hands and put them flat against his chest. She could feel the strong, fast beat of his heart. “Your turn.”

Following his lead, she took her time. He trembled, too. When he stood naked, she ran her hand over the scar on his side. Leaning in, she kissed it. Michelangelo’s
David
could not compare to her husband.

When they both stood face-to-face, like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, she felt no shame, but only a sweet, urgent expectation opening like a flower inside her. He was so perfect, so strong, so beautiful, and she loved him so much her heart ached.

She caught her breath at his strength when he swept her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing and carried her into the bedroom. She reminded herself how well she knew him. This was the boy she’d played with, the teen who’d teased her, the friend who’d
driven her around town and treated her to hamburgers, fries, and chocolate milk shakes. This was Joshua, the man she loved. Joshua, the husband who was about to become her lover. He placed her on the bed.

She touched his face as he leaned down over her, loving the planes, the light stubble of beard, his lips slightly parted, the warmth and sweetness of his breath. She gave a soft laugh and then gasped as he stretched out beside her—rough against smooth; hard muscle against soft curves. She felt herself retreat, and knew he felt it, too.

“What do you need, Abra? What do you want?” He spoke gently, his eyes tender. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know.” She’d never been asked before, and she didn’t know what it would take for her to shed the niggling fear that kept trying to ruin this. “Joshua.” She said his name to remind herself. “Oh, Joshua, I’m sorry.”

He put his fingertips against her lips and smiled tenderly. “We’ll figure it out.”

And miraculously, he did. The coldness melted, and her body filled with voluptuous sensations. When Joshua finally slipped his hand beneath her head and drew her into the marital embrace, she was ready. A symphony began inside her when she looked into his eyes so tender and pleasure-saturated, as she touched his face.

The surf pounded. She heard drums beating, the tempo quickening. The tension went deep, stretched taut, and then raised her up higher and higher until harmonious chords broke into exaltation. Suspended, she felt the exquisite resolution, the drifting like a leaf fluttering downward softly back and forth until it rested, spent, on earth.

Joshua shifted his weight. “And God came up with this idea.” He gave a throaty laugh, nuzzling her neck as he rolled over, holding her on top of him. His hands ran down her back in a sweeping caress. “How do you feel?”

Abra sighed and rested her head against her husband’s chest. “Born again.” Languorous and drowsy, she tucked herself close. “I think I could sleep for a week now.”

“Then it’s time we went to bed.” Joshua rose and took her by the hand. He led her up the stairs to the observatory, where he’d made a bed of sheets and blankets.

“I wondered how we’d stay warm.”

“Did you? Look up.”

Nestled in each other’s arms, they slept beneath the canopy of stars.

Zeke waited a few days before he dropped by Joshua and Abra’s home to see how they were doing. He heard the faint sounds of someone who knew how to play a piano very well. Mitzi had surprised Abra with the gift of her piano, delivered and tuned while the newlyweds were on their honeymoon. Sounded like Abra was already putting it to good use.

“Dad!” Joshua opened the front door. “Come on in. You haven’t been over since we got back from our honeymoon.”

“I wanted to give you a little time alone.”

Abra came to hug him.

“I heard you playing. A piece I haven’t heard before.”

“Just something I’ve been working on.” She asked him to sit and make himself comfortable. He took one end of the sofa, Joshua the other, while Abra perched on the arm beside her husband. His son looked happy and relaxed, Abra radiant. Zeke had never doubted Joshua and Abra would do well together. As they talked of ordinary things, he watched their interaction—a brush of fingers, a quick glance, an adoring look. They had used their honeymoon wisely. The faint shadow of doubt had left Abra’s eyes. They were clear now, sparkling, full of joy. She knew she was loved and could
now love fully in return. The promise of what could be was being fulfilled.

“I brought you something.” He handed the gift to Abra and watched her unwrap Marianne’s Bible. Would she remember she had returned it to him with instructions to save it for Joshua’s wife?

Abra held it against her chest and smiled at him through shimmering tears of gratitude. “I’ll cherish it.” He saw she remembered everything, especially that her sins had been put as far away from her as the east is from the west.

CHAPTER 20

Nearer, still nearer, close to Thy heart,

Draw me, my Savior, so precious Thou art;

Fold me, O fold me close to Thy breast,

Shelter me safe in that “Haven of Rest.”

LEILA MORRIS

J
OSHUA
AWAKENED
when Abra moaned. She moved restlessly beneath the covers, as though in a struggle. She talked, but not distinctly enough for him to understand. He moved closer, touching her bare shoulder. “Abra.” She startled awake, panting. He rubbed her arm. “You were having a bad dream, honey.” Her breathing slowed and then she started to cry.

“Tell me.” He stroked her hair.

She gulped. “I almost saw her face.”

When she curled on her side, Joshua curved his body around hers in comfort. He rubbed the top of her head with his chin. “Whose face?”

“My mother’s.” She shuddered a sigh.

Joshua felt her breathing ease. He was tired, but if she wanted to talk, he’d listen.

“I used to dream about the bridge and I’d be lying on the gravel,
helpless and cold. I could see Dad up on the walkway, looking down at me, but I couldn’t cry out.”

Joshua drew her closer. “He found you and brought you home.” He’d loved her the first time he saw her. He shifted his body, giving her room, and propped his head up on his hand. “Dad didn’t want to give you up.”

“I know.”

“We wouldn’t be married now if he hadn’t.”

“I know.” She turned onto her side and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. “I’m glad he gave me to Peter and Priscilla.”

“Mom and Dad.”

“Yes.” He heard the smile in her voice. “Mom and Dad.”