The Still of Night (21 page)
Jill dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, Shelly. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Shelly moistened her lips. “You need to talk.”
Jill shook her head, but as always, Shelly ignored her. Seated at the café court, a mocha latté between her hands and Shelly’s face before her, Jill realized there was no escape. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Shelly’s eyes softened. “Well, something happened since the last time we talked.”
Yes, something had happened. She had lost her surety of a good and loving God. She had lost the point of her salvation, the relevance. She shook her head. Maybe it was stress overload that numbed her, not the realization that she was worthless in God’s eyes. Maybe even that was delusion. What if there was no God? She’d rather believe that. It hurt less.
“Talk to me, Jill.”
Jill tried to form her desolation into words. She’d made her confession and been baptized at nine. Her parents were so proud, and their approval meant more than any spiritual awakening involved. She had measured up to their expectations and made the false assumption that she also measured up to God’s.
She looked into Shelly’s face. “I think maybe it’s all been a hoax. That, as you said, there
is
no difference between those who believe and those who don’t. We’re no better off believing than not.”
Shelly threaded her fingers. “What have you always told me? Circumstances don’t matter. It’s what you know by faith that counts. That Jesus Christ gave His life to bring salvation once for all.” It was almost comical hearing the words from Shelly’s mouth.
“My daughter is dying. She’s fourteen. She’ll never have a child. And even if Morgan’s bone marrow halts the disease, there’s no certainty of a cure.” Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t the heart of her desolation. Her soul rent inside her. “Shelly.” Her voice caught. “Kelsey told me not to regret giving her away, that God knew where she needed to be. With a different mother.” Jill stared into her friend’s eyes. “God rejected me.”
And suddenly her resistance ruptured and pain burst from her in scalding tears. Shelly snatched a wad of napkins from the nearest food booth. Jill pressed them to her eyes until the sobs ebbed.
Shelly spoke softly. “Maybe God did you a favor. Maybe he knew a young girl, alone and immature, could not support the upcoming difficulties in that baby’s life.”
The words were sensible from Shelly’s point of view. Jill acknowledged that much. But shame mingled with sorrow to clog her throat. God saw it, too, what they’d all seen.
Unworthy
.
Others talked in such glowing terms of their relationship with Jesus. She did everything they did, but she was like the wannabes who hung with the cheerleaders, hoping some of the magic would rub off on them. Jill knew from the inside, there was no magic. It was all illusion.
N
oelle was back at the ranch when Morgan returned by taxi a week later. He found her on the couch looking almost well, but he read weariness in her posture. He bent and kissed her cheek. “The prodigal returns.”
“Me or you?”
He smiled. “Now there’s an interesting thought. Done anything worth repenting?” He sat and slid an arm around her shoulders.
She nudged him with an elbow. “I’m too tired even to think of anything.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He removed his arm to a respectful position.
“The good news is, in spite of my pneumonia, the baby grew two centimeters.”
“Two centimeters. Imagine that.”
She rested her hand on her abdomen. “It’s significant.”
“Then good. I’m glad to hear it.” And he was. Noelle’s baby was a beacon of hope, of what it could and should be like. His first awareness of her pregnancy had been difficult, hammering home what he’d given up, what he could have fought to have for himself but had given Rick instead. Now he was just grateful the baby thrived.
“How about you, Morgan? Tell me what’s happening with you and Kelsey.”
Hearing his daughter’s name from Noelle gave him a jolt. Hearing it connected to him brought the ache.
With him and Kelsey?
Nothing. How could there be? She’d been ripped from his reality before he ever laid eyes on her. Maybe it was some flaw in his nature that made it matter so much. Why couldn’t he just let it go? So he had a kid. So what?
But as the oldest of six, he’d been a natural caretaker. Rick teased that their bane had been the arrival of the little sisters, but he had adored every one of those babies. Mom knew. She’d seen his soft heart and appreciated his automatic nurturing. He would come home from school and let the little girls swarm him. He tickled, hugged, even changed their diapers. He would have made a good dad.
“Morgan?” Noelle touched his arm.
“Yeah.” He gathered in his thoughts. “I don’t know what’s happening with Kelsey. I’ve done my part. It’s scheduled.”
“The transplant?”
“It’s actually called a harvest on my end. Rescue on Kelsey’s. Imagine that, Morgan Spencer to the rescue.”
Her gaze rested on his. “I don’t have to imagine. I know that masked man.”
He looked up at the vaulted ceiling, noted a few cobwebs at the junctions of crossbeams. He cocked his head. “You ought to let me get Marta up here.”
“You’d never get her away from her grandchildren.”
“Wanna bet?”
Noelle smiled. “No. Your silver tongue is notorious. But I’m all right.”
“I think you could use the help. And frankly, this place isn’t the same without her.”
“You mean my cooking.”
He winked. “What say I cajole her for a month or two?”
Noelle laughed. “Morgan …” Then she sobered. “It is tempting.”
He stood up. “She still with her son’s family in Littleton?”
Noelle nodded. “Last we heard. Aren’t you going to call first?”
“No. The personal touch is more effective.” Though it hadn’t been with Noelle. She’d resisted his touch like no woman before or after, until he’d used his magic to reunite her with Rick. Something was wrong with that picture. Why could he make things work for everyone else but himself? If he consulted on his own life, would he find the answer?
“I’m so glad you’re back, Morgan.”
That warmed him more than it should have. “I’m not staying long.” With a quick wave, he strode out and saw Rick riding Destiny, his sorrel stallion, down from the high pasture. He ought to run the plan by him, as it was his brother’s ranch. He waited in the yard while Rick dismounted the impeccably behaved horse. Hard to believe it was the same fiery-tempered animal upon which Rick had charged into the yard the first day Noelle arrived. Morgan half suspected Noelle had married Rick for Destiny.
“Hey, Morgan. You’re back.”
“Sort of.”
Rick crooked an eyebrow.
Morgan pulled his keys from his slacks pocket. “I’m going to fetch Marta for a couple months to help Noelle out.”
“Oh, you are, are you?”
Morgan smiled. “With your agreement, of course.”
Rick propped his hands on his hips. “First off, Marta won’t come. She’s crazy about living with her grandkids. And secondly, I can’t afford to pay her what she’s worth. Since we’re not taking guests this summer, aside from Stan’s family, I have only the sale of the foals and the occasional riding party. With Noelle’s illness …”
“Let me do it.”
Rick shook his head. “I know you can afford to, but—”
“All the times I come up here, eat your food, take up a room, gaze at your lovely wife. I owe you.”
“Sorry, Morgan.”
“Ever heard of the deadly sin of pride?”
Rick studied him a long moment. “It’s not pride, it’s … well, okay, it is.” He dropped his chin. “It’s not easy having the daughter of old money for a wife.”
Try not having her
. “Let me spring for Marta.”
Rick frowned. “Man, you’re annoying.”
“Come on.”
“Don’t make her think I put you up to it. And don’t make her feel guilty if she refuses.”
Morgan started for his car. “She won’t refuse.”
And the really annoying thing was that she wouldn’t. Rick was sure of it. He watched Morgan take off in his Thunderbird and knew his brother would do whatever it took to get Marta up to the ranch to cook and clean and order them around. Not that it was a bad thing, especially with Todd and Stan still baching it, and Noelle hardly past the pneumonia.
That had been a bad scare, and she was still weak and tired. Soon she’d be cumbersome. Marta was exactly what she needed. It just rankled that Morgan thought of it. And yes, it was pride. Morgan might have his faults, but he sure had his gifts, as well, like seeing a problem and providing a solution. Rick looked over the ranch. A good part of his relative security was thanks to Morgan.
He’d gotten him into the ground floor of a few prospects that had made a tidy profit. Nothing like the first company that launched Morgan into big-time money, but enough subsequent suggestions to buy into one or another of the corporations he was turning around. It was a risk, of course. If Morgan’s plan didn’t work, there would be no profit and maybe losses as well. But that had yet to happen.
Still, Rick guarded those investments carefully for his family’s future. The ranch income was normally sufficient for their everyday needs. At least he owned it outright, had no mortgage to concern him, only the property taxes, insurance, and expenses. He waited to be a good steward over all that he had. And Noelle seemed content. But Morgan saw things with an outside eye and didn’t hesitate to intervene.
Rick stabled Destiny and went inside the house. Noelle was asleep on the couch. He stood a long moment watching her, love swelling inside him like the baby that enlarged her belly. The hours beside her hospital bed had brought back too clearly the ones spent there after her fall on Aldebaran, the mare she’d ridden over the flaky shale slope.
That had taught him too well not to lose his temper with her. She was so fragile in so many ways, yet she was strong, too. And the Lord would make her stronger still as she grew in faith. Looking at her now, he could understand Morgan’s wanting to help her. Some women just brought that out in a man.
Even Jill, the day she’d come. He had spent a lot of years blaming her, but when he’d stepped in the door and seen her there, his first instinct had been to reach out, say something more than her name. But Morgan had moved her out too quickly.
Noelle stirred, opened her eyes, and smiled. “What are you doing?”
“Watching you sleep.”
She patted the couch next to her, and he sat down, curled her into his arms, and kissed her. She caught his vest lapels and drew a breath beside his cheek. “You smell like horses.”
“Yep. Aldebaran’s foal tangled with something last night. Had to bandage up his leg.”
“Is he all right?”
Rick kissed her eyebrows. “He’s fine. Sort of put me in the doctoring mood, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Know anyone who might need some TLC?”
“Mmm.” She snuggled into his neck.
“This is not the place.” He scooped her into his arms, then carried her up the winding stairs. While they had the house to themselves he ought to take advantage of it.
Morgan returned four hours later with Marta and six bags of groceries. Rick had to hand it to him. Morgan made you want to do his request. Marta would not have stood a chance. She looked smaller somehow but just as spry, her gray hair wrapped around her head in braids. It took her all of two minutes to shoo them out of the kitchen so she could get started on supper. In the front room, he gripped Morgan’s shoulder. “What did it cost you?”
Morgan smiled. “A gentleman never tells.”
Rick wrestled him by the neck, but Morgan refused to talk. Whatever it was, it would sure be nice having Marta again. If just for a while. He went down to Stan’s cabin and knocked. They’d been taking most of their meals at the big house already, but he and Noelle hadn’t put together anything spectacular, and while she was in the hospital, he’d just given them the run of the kitchen.
Stan opened the door. “Hi, Rick.”
Rick glanced in and saw Todd with his back to them, hunched over a Game Boy. “I wanted to let you know we’ve got our cook back. Her name’s Marta. Used to be here every summer, and believe me, she’s amazing.”
“Hey, that’s great.”
Was that relief in his face? Noelle might not be the best cook …. Rick caught that thought and pressed on. “Morgan talked Marta into a couple of months. You’ll get some terrific meals.”
Todd looked up. “Morgan’s back?”
Rick nodded. “I’m not sure how long.”
Stan stepped out and closed the door behind him. He glanced back, then spoke low. “Rick, I’m debating the effectiveness of this venture. The few days with just the two of us, I almost threw it in.” He spread his hands. “That just now was the first interest he’s shown in anything.”
Rick studied the man’s face. Discouragement definitely. “That’s your call, Stan. You have the cabin as long as you like.”
“If I could think of anything else …” Stan raised his hand and dropped it limply. “I was hoping for a breakthrough before I took him back into real life.”
Rick nodded.
“It was too much for Melanie and for Sarah. They needed some normalcy.”
“Are you sure of your call?”
“To foster care?” Stan pursed his lips and stared at the floor of the stoop. “I don’t feel released.”
Rick gripped Stan’s shoulder. “Then run the race.”
Stan nodded. “Maybe now that Morgan’s back …”
“Stan.” Rick dropped his hand. “Morgan outshines most of the male population. You can ride his shadow, but is that going to accomplish what you need?”
Stan sighed. “Probably not.”
“Fight for the kid, Stan. Morgan’s magnetism won’t outlast your faithfulness.”
Stan drew himself straight. “You think?”
Rick nodded.
“That’s what I heard in my prayer time. Persistent widow and all that.”
Rick smiled. “Keep knocking.” He started off the stoop.
“Rick, is everything all right with Morgan?”
Rick released a long breath. How did one answer that? In the world’s view Morgan was king. In God’s eyes … “You could keep him in your prayers.”
