Reclaimed (37 page)

Wanting desperately to go to her, to take everything back, Paul leaned against the counter, his heart writhing with every silent moment.

Suzanna pulled herself straight and sniffed. Brushing her tears away, she fixed a glare on him. “That’s it then.”

Her angry tone cut deep. She moved out of the kitchen, and the front door slammed two seconds later.

Paul dropped into a chair at his table, his head falling into his hands.
God, why?

THIRTY-FIVE

Suzanna raced up the creepy basement stairs, her large suitcase in tow. Paul had stored it in the basement for her so she wouldn’t have to try to be brave on her own. He wasn’t there to retrieve it for her now. He wouldn’t ever be there again. Her tears refused to be bottled.

If you don’t know Him, you’ll never really know me.

She tried to turn his voice off, but it refused to be silenced. Refused to be ignored.

Jason had said something similar. Only weeks before he went into hospice, he’d forced a similar conversation—wanting her to
know
Jesus. Over the years of their marriage, as Jason struggled through treatments and pain and fatigue, he turned more and more to his Bible. Became more and more religious. Except he hated it when she said that.

It’s not religion, Suzie. It’s a relationship. I need Jesus every day—like I need you. I need to talk to you, to spend time with you. He’s everything to me.

Everything? They had spent more time in the cancer center than they had in church. He spent more of his life sick than healthy. What kind of relationship was that? Where was the fairness in it all?

Suzie, you and I need to face reality. I’m going to die.

He had quit—given up the fight, but she couldn’t surrender as readily.

Jase, don’t talk like that. There’s still chemo. We can try that again. This doesn’t have to be the last effort.

Lying in his bed, pale and thin and weak, he had reached to cover her hand.

Baby, I’m ready. Heaven is calling, and I’m ready to go. But I don’t want to leave you not knowing whether or not you’re saved.

Why did the men in her life question that? Didn’t they think she was good enough? Granted, she didn’t match their character. Neither one—not by a long shot. They were both tremendously good men, and she knew without a doubt she didn’t deserve their love. But did she deserve hell?

I’m a good person, Jase. You wouldn’t love me if I were completely evil. Why wouldn’t I go to heaven?

He’d stared at her, real fear playing over his face.

What if your good isn’t good enough?

What if… what if they were right? Where did that leave her? And her father? He didn’t preach relationship. He preached living, doing. Religion. Wasn’t that the real deal? Didn’t Jesus teach about doing good? Serve the poor. Love the orphans. Go to church. Get baptized. Take communion. Jesus said to do all those things. Daddy taught that. Where did Jason—and Paul—get the idea that it wasn’t enough?

She tugged two pairs of jeans from her closet and threw them into her bag.

I’ll always love you. That’ll never change.

Jason had promised the same thing. It was a beautiful sentiment, but it didn’t do her any good. Jase was gone, and Paul had drawn a line he would never cross. Both had left her alone. Just like Mother. Just like Daddy.

Just like God.

She continued to rummage through her clothing, tossing sweaters and socks into her bag without any rhyme or reason. Anger regained its hold, and her tears dried against her hardened face. So, she was to be alone. Fine.
Never again.
She wouldn’t let anyone that close to her heart again.
Ever
.

She flipped the top of her suitcase shut and was zipping it when her doorbell rang.

Paul?

No. He wouldn’t use the front, probably wouldn’t even bother to knock. He’d just step in the side entry and yell
Pickle
to announce his arrival.

The doorbell rang again.

Stopping at her bedroom mirror, Suzanna brushed at the trail of dried tears and gathered her hair into a ponytail. She looked awful. It was only seven in the morning, so she could claim bed head, if pressed.

She went to the door, and Shelby Stanton and Paul’s beauty queen stood on the other side. Her back stiffened. “What do you want?”

Shelby put a hand to the other woman’s elbow and pulled in a long breath. “This is Hailey, Suzanna. We wanted to talk to you—to explain—and apologize.”

Come again?
Suzanna stared at them.

“Hello, Suzanna.” The chocolate-eyed woman spoke.

Was she supposed to talk back?

“I’m busy.” She stepped back, not sure if she really had it in her to close the door on them.

“Please, Suzanna.” Hailey stepped over the threshold. “I do want to apologize. I didn’t know Paul was seeing someone—you. Honest. It was all a big mistake.”

Shelby stepped forward, and suddenly both women were in her house. She should have shut the door. Was she expected to offer them coffee too?

“You were set up. Both of you,” Shelby said. “Andrea and I figured it out last night after you and Paul left. Hailey and I have kept in touch over the years, mostly by Facebook these days. She got a message from me in November, saying Paul had been asking about her. Only I didn’t send it. There’s only one other person who has access to my account, so it didn’t take too long to figure things out.”

Chuck.

Shelby nodded as though Suzanna had said her husband’s name out loud. “Hailey has been having an ongoing conversation with someone whom she
thought
was Paul. Dre insisted Paul wasn’t on Facebook, so Hailey showed us the page on her phone. Except, well, it was established about the same time Paul started seeing you. Most of his messages to Hailey were between seven and eight in the morning—and all of us know that’s when he’s usually here, having coffee with you. We figured it out. And trust me when I tell you, my husband is in all kinds of trouble.”

Relief should have draped over her. It didn’t. Because it didn’t matter now. Paul had seen the ugliness inside her and had deemed her unworthy. They were done, no matter what Chuck did or didn’t do.

Hailey twisted her hands together. “I should have known better, anyway. I should have known Paul would never encourage me to leave my husband. He wouldn’t have suggested… what Chuck suggested. That’s not him—he’s too honorable to do that. I was just desperate... well, anyway, you don’t need to know all my troubles. But you should know Paul wouldn’t do that. He just wouldn’t, and I’m sorry for the scene I caused.”

Silence edged into the room and needled Suzanna. What was she to do with all of this?

“I hope you can forgive me,” Shelby spoke softly. “I believed everything Chuck said, and now I know it was all a lie. I said horrible things about you—and Paul. I’m so sorry.”

Forgive? How does one do that?

Paul finished settling the orphaned calf in a stall in the barn. He hated this part of the job. Not just because the motherless babies were so hard to keep alive at this age, but it touched his heart. And that area ached enough today.

How could he have let this happen? He and Suzanna had done battle, plunged to uncharted depths and resurfaced together. How could he have overlooked the most important part?

How could she not be a believer? No wonder forgiveness came hard for her. She hadn’t experienced it for herself. No wonder anger was her perennial response. She didn’t know peace.

She didn’t know peace, and yet she longed for it. Ached for it with every stitch of her soul. The pain in his chest constricted.

God, please give her peace.

“Did you lose one?” Tom’s voice came through the stall door as he stepped onto the straw.

“Yeah.” Paul came up off his knees. “About an hour ago. Don’t know if this little guy will make it.”

“I’m sorry.” Tom shoved his hands into his pockets. He toed the straw and leaned back against the stall wall. “Are you and Suzanna okay?”

Paul rubbed his jaw, trying to clamp a firm hold on his shaky emotions. “No. We’re not.”

“Wondered. That’s why I’m here. There’s some stuff you need to know. Hailey came under false pretenses. You were both set up by Chuck. Seems he pirated his wife’s Facebook page and then set up one in your name. Hailey thought the two of you had been talking for the past three months. She didn’t

know anything about Suzanna.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, the whole thing came spilling out at the dance, and now everyone in town knows the truth. You can both move on with your lives—Chuck’s done.”

That was great. Except it didn’t matter. Paul looked the other way and then stepped out of the stall.

“Paul?” Tom tailed him.

Paul swallowed, searching for words. They came out surprisingly simple. “Suzie’s not a believer.”

He didn’t want to know Tom’s reaction. It didn’t matter. At the moment, nothing was going to change the fact his heart was broken. He didn’t want to share that. With anyone.

THIRTY-SIX

Suzanna turned toward her car as a Chevy truck pulled in across from her. Sheesh. One gas station in town. She couldn’t even make a silent escape.

Pastor Ron dropped from the driver’s seat and reached for the gas pump. “Hey there, Suzanna Wilton.”

“Hi.” That was pathetic.

Who cared? She wouldn’t be back.

He removed the gas cap and started filling his truck. “You doing okay?”

She kept her attention on the gas pump. Surely the man would take a hint.

“Look a little tired. Been a day?”

Guess he couldn’t. Her eyes moved back to him, almost of their own accord, and something deep inside latched on to his sincere concern.

“Did you know my dad well?”
Say what?
What happened to
it didn’t matter
?

“I did, actually.” He smiled, his expression warm, honest.

Since when did she trust people, especially people in this town?

Pastor seemed to ignore her discomfort. “He and I spent quite a few mornings together over coffee.”

Suzanna nodded, stifling her voice with a closed mouth lest anymore mutinous words set themselves free. She turned back to her Honda. Why the dickens was it taking so long to fill the tank?

“Did you want to talk about him?” The man’s voice came from over her shoulder.

Yes.

No. Nothing good would come from it. The more she’d opened up about the past, the worse her life had become. But Daddy had found something here—something she longed for with a desperation that pressed near insanity. Yearning welled up so strong that the tears managed a rebellious escape. She hardened herself against the rush of emotion.

“I can’t. I’m on my way out of town… to visit my mom.”

Back to lying. That should work well.

“I think we should,” he continued softly. “I know there were things your dad wanted you to know.”

She froze, her back still to him. The demand for answers overcame her resolve to run. She
had
to know.

“Joy was putting some cinnamon rolls in the oven when I left.” Pastor came around the gas pump and stood a respectable distance to her side. “Why don’t you stop in for a bit? Colorado will still be there when we’re done.”

She nodded, unable to raise her eyes.

“Good. There’re some things I’ve wanted to tell you. I have a feeling they may change the way you see life.”

Doubtful. What made him so sure?

The smell of cinnamon and freshly baked bread swirled around Suzanna as she dropped into a chair at the Hursts’ table. Joy offered coffee, but out of the norm, Suzanna declined. She didn’t intend to stay.

What on earth was she doing here? Escape had been her only aim. How did she get so easily sidetracked?

“How’s calving season going for Paul?” Joy asked—innocently, Suzanna reminded herself.

“I…” Maybe she should have accepted the coffee. At least a mug would have been some kind of distraction. “I’m not sure. He’s busy, so I guess that’s good.”

“I know how that feels, not knowing exactly what my guy’s up to, but knowing whatever it is takes up a whole lot of his time.”

My guy? Not anymore—thanks to God. He must really hate her.

“Your dad was looking into cattle before he died.” Pastor sat across from her, speaking as though the conversation shouldn’t be uncomfortable. Maybe not for him. His family still breathed.

Suzanna nodded. Cut to the chase and hit the road. “He was a pastor. Did you know that?”

“I did.” Ron grinned as though he were truly acquainted with the man. “He and I had many talks about the years he spent behind a pulpit.”

Joy brought a plate of cinnamon rolls and set it in the middle of the table. She passed out plates and forks and then settled herself between her husband and Suzanna.

Uneasiness was pushed over by a demand for answers. “Paul has a different idea about heaven than my dad did. We…” She looked to her hands. “We fought about it.”

Pastor Ron shifted in his chair. “That’s bothering you.”

Uh, yeah. Silence settled in the room, and Suzanna fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. How could she get out of this?

“If what Paul says is true, then I don’t know if my dad is in heaven.” Holy buckets. Did she just say that?

Pastor leaned back against the chair. “Why don’t you tell me what Paul said.”

Suzanna swallowed. It may as well all come out now. Wouldn’t matter much anyway since she was leaving for good within the hour.

“He says not every person goes to heaven. That you have to be saved personally. He called it having a relationship with Jesus.”

Pastor nodded slowly and then tipped his head. “Paul didn’t make that up. The Bible says it. John wrote that the person who has the Son—Jesus—has eternal life. But the one who does not have the Son does not have eternal life, but the wrath of God is upon him.”

Anger surged like a high-pressure fountain. “My daddy preached for nearly twenty years. He
never
talked like that. If God is going to offer heaven, and if He’s fair, then He would give it to every basically good person, without condition.”

“His offer is for everyone, whether they think they’re basically good or not, and there’s only one condition. Belief.”

“I do believe in God!” Her heart rate doubled. “Paul doesn’t think that’s good enough.”

The older man held her gaze with kindness. “Your dad and I had a couple of conversations similar to this, Suzanna.”

He what? Perhaps her father was trying to straighten these narrow-minded people out.

“He was restless and angry.” Pastor Ron leaned an arm atop the table. “Mad at God because he didn’t feel like God had kept the deal they’d made.”

Daddy made a deal with God? Not likely. Okay, maybe. That’s how life worked, right? Good deeds resulted in a good life, except Daddy’s fell apart. It wasn’t fair—he had good reason to be mad. So did she. Why did God deal kindly with some but gave others the cold shoulder?

But the last time she’d met with Daddy, he wasn’t angry. He was content. Peaceful. It had made her hot with anger, especially since he kept insisting God would make her life beautiful again.

Beautiful?
How did you take muck and make it pretty? Why did Daddy keep telling her to put her hand in God’s? She’d been about to bury her husband. Her parents had made a shredded mess out of their family. Her sister had abandoned her entirely. God had failed. On every side—
failed
.

“Your father had quite a tale, Suzanna. And I know for a fact he wanted you to know it. He hoped the truth would release you from the bondage he’d put you in.”

“You’re wrong about whatever it is you think you need to tell me.” Bitterness hardened her voice. “My daddy didn’t put me in bondage. God did. He allowed our family to rip apart. He took everything I loved and put it through the shredder. That’s the truth.”

“Your father told me about you.” He leaned closer, his eyes ever steady, ever kind. “About your husband. And about your mother. I know why you see God as cruel. The truth is, you see Him that way because you don’t know Him. Your dad felt responsible for that.”

“Responsible?” Her voice rose. “Everything I know about God I learned from my dad. You’re not making sense, and I think you’re speaking out of turn.”

“Do you know why your father went into the ministry?”

She sat back hard, not even trying to hide her annoyance. “Because he was called.”

“No. That wasn’t why he went to seminary nor was it the reason he preached. He did it because he thought it would appease God. He thought he could make a deal with Him.”

“Why would he do that?”

Pastor leaned back again. “Because he couldn’t stand the guilt he carried around.”

“Guilt? Over what?” She glowered at Pastor Ron.

“Your mother got pregnant before they were married. When they were seventeen.”

“Ha.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s quite an invention. My sister was born when they were twenty-two.”

“Your mother aborted the baby.” Ron held her with a long stare. “She did it on her own. Your dad didn’t find out until after it was all said and done. Guilt set hard on him, even after they were married. He thought preaching and teaching all the moral laws of the Bible would satisfy his guilt. It never did.”

Suzanna’s ears rang as if the man had just smacked her. It wasn’t possible… couldn’t be true, except… those letters she’d found in Daddy’s box demanded an explanation.

Pastor Ron’s soft voice filled the sharp silence. “He knew about your mother’s affair, but he couldn’t confront it because he couldn’t get away from the guilt rotting inside him. When she filed for divorce, he felt not only the failure of his marriage and the collapse of his family, but also failure in his attempt to please God. Everything he’d believed, everything he’d preached throughout his ministry was thrown into question. And the final straw was you. Actually, no, it was Jason. That was your husband’s name, right?

Suzanna nodded. She wanted to leave, but she sat paralyzed like she was stuck in a bad dream.

“Your father loved Jason, and not just for your sake.” Pastor continued his story. “He said he watched the young man come alive, watched him bloom out of a pile of ashes. He couldn’t reconcile why God would afflict Jason, of all young men, with leukemia. He would come in my office raging at the unfairness, and then our talks would turn to theology. Who is God?

“Over time our discussions continued. Your dad didn’t know the God of the Bible. He knew the “thou shalts” and the events recorded in the Bible, but he didn’t know God. Coming to terms with that was both heart shattering and bondage breaking. He found a God he could love. A God who loved him without reservation, without condition. He found salvation through faith, not by works. He found peace in Jesus. Shortly afterward, he went back to Colorado, not long before your husband died. Do you remember that?”

Suzanna nodded again. The emotion of the memory and the overwhelming story Pastor Ron had told held her tongue in silence.

“He came back knowing he needed to tell you all of this—feeling like he had led you wrong. He wanted to but not at that time. Not when your husband was dying. But he didn’t get the chance, did he?”

She bit down into her lip, tasting blood but not feeling the pain. How could this be true? How could any of it be right?

“He wanted you to know.” Ron leaned forward, sympathy in his expression. “He wanted you to find the Jesus he came to know—came to love. Your dad wanted you to have peace.”

Suzanna pressed her hand to her lips and stared across the room. Everything about her life seemed to shatter, and she couldn’t think, couldn’t take it all in.

“I have to go.” She stood, and her legs trembled.

Ron looked at his wife, and Joy laid a hand on Suzanna’s arm. “You’re safe here, Suzanna. Please don’t leave just yet. Let this sink in. Truth—God’s truth will set you free. Don’t run from it.”

Truth?
She wouldn’t know what that looked like. She turned toward the door.

“Suzanna, wait.” Pastor Ron stood. “I have something to give you.”