Project Love (Cascade Brides Series) (9 page)

She tilted her head. “You know, I'm not sure how I
survived three months of your passing acquaintance without seeing
your smile.”

“
I think it hurt me more than it hurt you,” he said
before climbing from the car.

Charity followed suit and adjusted her coat around her
shoulders. The rain had stopped but it was still misting.

“
Ready?”

She nodded and they
headed across the parking lot. Charity was struck anew by the organ
music and flickering candles as they entered the sanctuary. It was so
different than her other church experiences, but she found it
appealed to her more than she would've imagined.
Maybe I'll
ask Holly to come. She would like the stained-glass windows for sure.
Would asking her to church constitute talking about God?
If she came, Charity figured God could handle the talking to her
part. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she'd
done a disservice to her roommate. Not so much by her lack of church
invitations, but perhaps in the lack of attempting any relationship
at all.

Then again, it was hard to connect with someone who
filled up the tub with laundry starch and called it art.

As the service began, she shelved her questions for the
moment and concentrated on quieting her heart before God. Not an easy
task when one considered her seat mate.

***

I'm enjoying this way too much
.
Daniel forced himself to concentrate on the sermon, but his thoughts
quickly wandered back to the woman next to him. He doubted she had
any idea how much it meant for him to share this experience with her.
He had to remind himself not to come on too strong. It was almost
miraculous she'd agreed to attend at all, especially after his petty
confession about withholding his smiles.

That was so dumb. Good grief
.

He glanced over at
Charity and caught her staring at him. Her brow was raised.
Oh,
great. Now I'm talking to myself. That's got to be attractive
.

He knew his nerves were not totally due to Charity's
presence. It was what might or might not happen following the
service. How would she take it? There was another part of his life he
wanted to share with her but it was a world away from soft music and
scented candles.

Lord, prepare Charity's heart. Prepare my heart. Go
before us and lead the way
.

Chapter Seven

Charity sensed a suppressed something from Daniel all
through lunch at an Italian eatery. As she pushed the last of her
fettuccine Alfredo around on her plate, she darted little looks at
her companion, wondering when he would tell her what was on his mind.

“
Are you finished?”

She looked up to see the waitress hovering at the table.
Leaning back, she said, “Yes.”

“
Me, too,” Daniel said.

Once their plates were cleared and they were alone, he
scooted forward in his chair.

“
Thank you for lunch,” Charity said, suddenly
nervous.

“
You're welcome. I'm glad we can do this together.”
He paused then shook his head. “I'm sorry if I seem to be acting
mysterious, I just have an odd request, and I want you to feel
comfortable saying no.”

“
I would say no if I needed to, Daniel.”

He nodded. “Okay, here's the thing. I have a standing
appointment on Sunday afternoons. It's at the Lutheran home. It's a
care facility for the elderly.”

She waited for him to continue, wondering why he thought
she'd be shocked by his visitation at a care home.

“
My church sponsors the facility, obviously, and I
went along one time when I found out about it.” He swallowed. “In
fact, they have this big fund-raiser every year to help defray
finances for patients who can't afford it. They have asked me to head
it up this year, despite my lack of experience. I don't know if
that's something you'd be interested in helping me with. It would be
quite the time commitment and on my part, a learning curve—”

“
I'd be glad to help.” Was that all? He knew she
enjoyed community work.

“
A lot of the ground work is done throughout the year
for the fund-raiser. They need me—and an assistant—to do the
heavy lifting over the next month or so. The event itself will be the
first week of November.”

“
Like I said, I'm in.”

He smiled, a measure of the strain on his face easing.
“Thank you, Charity. It means a lot to me.”

She nodded, trying to control an impulse of giddiness.
Despite her uncertainty of feelings for Daniel, she knew she'd enjoy
working with him.

“
But there's something else. It kind of goes along
with the fund-raiser. As I mentioned, I visit the home every Sunday.”

“
Just you? Or do you go with a group?”

“
Just me. There's someone there I go to see.”

“
A family member?”

“
No, a stranger.”

Charity wasn't sure how to respond. “Oh.”

“
I'd like you to accompany me there today.”

She nodded. “What's this person's name?”

“
Evelyn. And that's all I know about her.”

“
How long have you been going to see her?”

“
It's been almost six months now.”

She lowered her gaze so
he wouldn't see the surprise in her eyes.
Okay
.
“So what time do you usually go?”

Daniel glanced at his watch. “About now.”

Charity scooted back in her chair and got to her feet,
determined to relax and be there for Daniel. Because she was pretty
sure he needed the support.

***

Huge vases of gladiolas and snapdragons greeted them in
the foyer of the care home. But they couldn't completely mask the
heavy scent of cleaning supplies common to such facilities.

New lines appeared around Daniel's eyes as they neared
Evelyn's room after checking in at the front desk. The halls were
dotted with the elderly using walkers and in wheelchairs, while
around them white-garbed staff flowed past. The facility seemed clean
and shiny, but despite the hygiene and flowers and competent staff,
places like these tugged at her heart like nothing else.

Daniel stopped at a room and knocked. He didn't wait for
a response. Propping the door open, he entered the room. Charity
followed close behind.

A small, frail woman sat on the bed staring at the wall.
She wore a pink housecoat and slippers. Her white hair was sparse and
barely covered a scalp dotted with age spots.

Daniel pulled two chairs close to the edge of the bed
and sat down in one. “Miss Evelyn, I'd like you to meet my friend,
Charity.”

At the sound of his voice, the woman turned her head
slightly, but no spark of recognition came to her eyes. She simply
held out her hand. Daniel took hold of her hand, pressing it between
both of his. Charity sat down in the second chair and attempted to
maintain a smile on her face.

Daniel had tried to prepare her in the car on the way
over.

She's not blind, Charity, but it's like she doesn't
see anything. There may be emotional damage.

I just hold her hand. For an hour or so.

She never speaks. Sometimes I don't either. But
sometimes I tell her little things about my life.

I don't think she cares whether I talk or not. She
just needs someone to hold her hand
.
That's all
.

Charity watched as a gamut of emotions worked their way
across his face. There was something more, something he hadn't told
her. If he'd been coming to do this every week for six months, there
should be some measure of ease. But a muscle worked in his jaw as he
stared at her. He stared as if he willed her to offer him something
in return.

She'd asked what he knew about the woman, but the nurses
only said she'd been abandoned by her family and didn't respond to
much stimuli of any kind.

Who abandons their—?
But before the thought completed, Charity knew she'd left her sisters
behind. Granted they weren't old or infirm—at least she assumed
they weren't. How terrible if one needed help and she didn't know
about it.

Guilt for wanting to remain anonymous assailed her. And
yet, if she received another phone call, would she answer it?

I just don't know
.

Blinking away a sheen
of moisture, Charity focused on a watercolor painting on the opposite
wall and wondered how soon they could leave.
I don't like
it here.

I don't like it here at all.

***

Ninety minutes later, Daniel studied Charity's face as
they exited the building. However, her schooled expression gave
nothing away. He wished he had the same self-control. Every week he
walked out of the care home feeling wrecked and no closer to a peace
that proved elusive.

He cleared his throat. When Charity looked up at him, he
said, “Do you mind if we go for a walk? It's not raining, and I
usually need to walk for a while after...”

She nodded.

Daniel held out his hand, needing the contact more than
he wanted to admit—even after his time with Evelyn. Charity paused
for the barest moment before slipping her hand within his. The moment
she touched him, a portion of his angst eased as somehow he knew it
would.

He led her down the sidewalk in front of the facility,
keeping his eyes from the windows. Instead he looked down at Charity,
noting the way her lashes fanned out over her cheeks. What was she
thinking about? Him? His strange obsession with an unrelated woman in
a care home?

As they walked several blocks in silence, Daniel felt he
owed more of an explanation to Charity. At the same time, he wanted
her to like him. Not as a church buddy. But something much more.

We've gone to church together twice. Not even on a
real date. We've eaten together twice, but does that count? What
about when she came to my office with the coffee? Where are we at in
this relationship, if we have one at all? And at what point does one
dump details about one's pathetic past?

He knew from experience
that over-sharing was a death knell to a fledgling relationship.
I
don't want to mess this up with Charity. I need guidance, Lord
.
An overwhelming urge to share ate at him. Would he scare her away?

It has to be her decision
.
He knew that in his heart, whether or not she decided to stick
around. “I bet you're thinking there's more to these Sunday
appointments.”

Her dark eyes sought his. “I can tell that just by the
tension in your hand.”

He smiled, so thankful for her presence, for the feeling
of her fingers wrapped around his. “Okay, here goes. This might
come as a shock, but I'm the firstborn sibling in my family.”

“
Um, no. Not shocked,” she said, her voice tinged
with mirth.

“
I had a younger brother.”

Charity's smile faded. “Had?” she said softly.

“
He was very gifted in the arts. Where I am drawn to
schematics and logic and all manner of boring things, he could pick
up any instrument and play with hardly any practice. His voice was
amazing, too. But along with nascent success in the Los Angeles music
industry, he got caught up in the drug scene.”

“
Oh, no. I'm so sorry, Daniel.”

“
My parents broke their hearts over him, giving him
chance after chance. They saw it as mercy while I saw it as
enabling.”

“
So there was tension between you and your parents of
how they handled the situation?”

“
And then some. But there was tension between him and
me, too. I went to see him in L.A. several times, trying to get him
into rehab, or at least appeal to him to think of his parents.” He
paused. “Of course talking didn't do much good. I finally stopped
going back. I headed home to Missouri, finished college, got a job
with a good company there...”

Daniel looked out at the fading light coloring the sky
faintly with orange. He'd tried so many times to seek forgiveness,
for his actions or the lack thereof. “He called me a year later.
Begged me to come and see him. I relented and went, but with a
hardened heart. Plus an unexpected leave of absence doesn't build
credit with a new employer.”

“
Why did he ask you to come and not your parents?”

“
I think they'd
finally given up. They just had nothing left he hadn't already
squandered.” Daniel swallowed. “When I found him, I was
unprepared for his condition. He had grown thin and had a terrible
cough. I assumed he'd asked me to come so he could get help. But he
wanted a hundred bucks to buy more drugs. As if I hadn't just flown
halfway across the country to see him. Instead of pity, I was furious
at him for wasting his life, wasting the talent he'd been blessed
with. For wasting my
time
.”