Mountain Sanctuary (12 page)

He was in front of her before she took her next breath, his hands on her arms, his eyes holding hers. “I am not that good, Stella. I’m just a man who had to find a change. I’ve found that change—for the better. I can’t make any promises or declare any truths, except the ones I’ve already told you. I believe God led me here and…I’ll be here through summer.”

“Did He lead you to me?” she asked on a gentle whisper, remembering the clear nudging she’d had earlier when she’d felt the Lord guiding her. Wanting to test both his faith and that theory the Lord had planted inside her stubborn head, she asked, “What if God sent you here so
we
could give you a soft place to lay your head, Adam? What if He wanted
us
to be the ones to help you, to give you some rest?”

She watched as his eyes went misty there in the muted light. “Are you willing to do that for me? Are you willing to accept me the way I am right this very minute, flaws and all, just to give me some sort of solace, Stella?”

Stella knew he was asking her to take her own leap of faith. But she still needed answers. “When you question a criminal, don’t you need evidence before you can decide his guilt or innocence?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s how we do it,” he replied, confusion coloring his eyes now. “But we believe a man is innocent until proven guilty.”

“Right. But you lay out all the evidence until you have answers, don’t you?”

“Yes, we do.”

“And that’s what makes a cop tick, right? I mean, you have to get to the bottom of a situation before you can make a decision or pass judgment?”

“Yes, but—”

“Yes, but you can’t declare a man guilty until you feel sure you have enough information. And you can’t say he’s innocent until you can clear him with that information.”

He pushed a hand down his face. “Okay, all right. Are you sure you’re not a lawyer?”

“Nope, I’m not a lawyer. I’m just a woman who got burned pretty bad the first time around. I don’t aim to let that happen again.”

His arms held hers. “I’m not that kind of man.”

“Then prove it.”

“I thought I was doing just that. Haven’t I tried to do everything around here you asked me to do?”

“Yes, and then some.”

“But that’s not enough?”

She backed toward the door, then put her hand on her heart. “They say action speaks louder than words, but I need to feel it here, Adam. Right here.”

He came toward her, a frustrated frown on his face. “You are one stubborn woman, Stella.”

“I’ve been told that, yeah.”

“I don’t know how to reach you.”

She glanced around the studio. “Keep trying. I don’t want you to give up on me just yet. In spite of how I protest.”

That made him smile. “I don’t plan on giving up, no matter how much you protest.”

She turned to leave, then brushed a hand over the clean worktable. “This really was awfully nice of you, Adam.”

He followed her out. “Would you do me a favor then?”

She turned. “Oh, here comes the other part.”

“There is no other part. I just want you to go to church with me on Sunday. Just try it. You might find some answers there, at least.”

“I don’t need answers from God, Adam,” she said as she headed back toward the house. “I need answers from you.”

“But God is part of what makes me who I am,” he argued, stomping after her. “C’mon, Stella. What do you have to lose?”

She whirled on the steps, her face inches from his. “This,” she said, her hand on her heart again. “If God sent you, then He’ll just have to understand that I have to have proof that I can count on you in a pinch. You and Him.”

Then she shut the door and left him standing there staring after her.

S
tella heard the church bells early on Sunday morning. It was a gray still day, with dark clouds hovering like a blanket over the mountain. The house was quiet. Everyone else had either headed out to explore the mountains or headed off to church with Adam. So that meant she was alone. Stella enjoyed having time to herself, but it was almost too quiet this morning. She’d never been one who needed the company of others to entertain her or validate her. But she couldn’t help thinking about Adam and how spending time with him seemed to cheer her and make her smile, too. That is, when they weren’t arguing about kissing and other such things.

He hadn’t asked her again about going to church this morning. And even though she wouldn’t have gone if he had asked, Stella felt a bit put off. Maybe he was getting the hint that she didn’t feel comfortable in organized religion. Or maybe he was beginning to see that getting any closer to her was hopeless. She should be glad about that, not disappointed. After all, she’d held him at bay for weeks now, using the excuse of not knowing about his past as her only shield. But Stella knew her reluctance was about much more than Adam’s past. More likely, it was all about her own past and her feelings of abandonment and her extreme lack of self-worth.

Adam Callahan was like the pied piper of religion, escorting his merry band of followers down one hill and up the next, past towering magnolia trees and blossoming crape myrtles to that little wood-and-stone church with the shining white steeple.

“I guess I should just tear out of here and join them,” Stella said to the still air of the kitchen. Why did she always wind up here, staring out this window anyway? Why couldn’t she just find something to do, or at least some other place to ponder all the thoughts whirling inside her tired brain? “But I might get caught in a storm.”

She thought about going out to the studio, but not even that indulgence could entice her this morning. She’d probably just stand there at her worktable, staring at Adam’s tidiness or at her mother’s unopened trunk. She turned to find something to eat, then saw a tiny Bible lying on the kitchen table.
Kyle’s.
Her daddy had given it to him last Christmas.

Stella picked up the white leather-bound book, her hand moving over the gold-etched lettering on the front. “You forgot your Bible, baby.” She thought about running up to the church, just to hand the book to her son. But, no, that wouldn’t work, would it? Then she might be forced to stay.

Instead, she dropped the Bible in her apron pocket, grabbed her cup of hot lemon-and-mint tea and put an oatmeal cookie on the saucer, then headed out back to sit in one of the old wrought iron chairs on the patio off from the house. The wind was picking up and because of the clouds, the morning was cool and pleasant. She’d sit out here and watch the storm roll in.

It wasn’t until after she’d sat down that she realized she still had the little Bible in her pocket. “Well, I’m getting downright senile, not remembering things.” She’d meant to put the book back in Kyle’s room.

Stella put her tea on the table then stared down at the book. She did forget to bring the morning paper out. And she didn’t want to have to get up and go and fetch it. Maybe she’d just glance over the Bible. She knew all the stories, of course. But it had been a very long time since she’d taken the time to read any of the passages.

Her mother had read her Bible stories when Stella was very small, but then Estelle had become more and more involved in her art and less involved in her church or her daughter’s life. As the years passed, the task of keeping the faith had fallen to Stella’s father. And once Estelle had left, even Wally had fallen behind on that duty.

“I reckon it can’t hurt,” she said, her voice carrying loud enough to scare a squirrel down the trunk of the old oak tree. Thunder rumbled off in the distance, scaring the tiny creature even more.

“Excuse me,” Stella said, laughing at the skittish little varmint.

She sipped her tea, then thumbed through the Bible, letting her fingers land where they might.

“Hebrews.”

Stella sat quiet, then gasped at the verse she found. “‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen.’”

She held her breath, her hand on her beating heart as she read the passage over again. This was the verse she couldn’t remember, the verse that had passed through her head just the other night as she’d sat on the bench waiting for Adam.

Was this a sign?

How many times had she hoped in her secret heart that Adam might be the one for her? How many times had she prayed to the God to whom she was so afraid to turn, asking Him to show her a sign of faith?

“I guess this is a
sure
sign,” Stella said, taking a bite of her cookie. Then she shook her head. “Okay, so I turned to that particular passage. Big deal. Nothing to be seen here. Nothing to read into, anyway. I just happened to touch on that passage, is all.” Then she thought about the passage again—“the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Maybe there
was
a lot to be seen in that particular verse. She’d remembered part of it, but there was a lot more written in that simple declaration. A whole lot more.

The little squirrel fussed up in the tree. The wind picked up again. More dark clouds started forming back behind the mountaintop. Apparently, it was going to rain sooner than she’d thought. Off in the distance, she heard a siren whining through town, its shrill alert growing closer and closer.

Then Stella heard a sharp hissing sound and the fluttering of wings and birds shrieking.

She turned to see a big black-and-white cat running through the yard.

With a baby dove in his mouth.

“Oh!” Stella threw the Bible on the table, her chair skidding as she sloshed tea all over her apron. “You mean old cat, let that baby go!”

One of the adult doves fluttered around on the ground near the cat, acting as a diversion for the baby.

“Let it go!” Stella screamed, her hands flapping to mimic the valiant bird trying to save the baby.

The skittish yard cat dropped his prize and took off running through the hole underneath the old gate. Stella rushed to the hurt little bird, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, poor baby.” She didn’t know if she should touch the tiny bird or not.

Wiping at tears, she watched as the mother dove fluttered and fussed. “What should we do, Mama?” she asked the frightened dove.

To her amazement, the feathery baby hopped toward the mother. Thinking maybe the baby was okay, Stella glanced at him. She saw a little trickle of blood near the tiny bird’s neck. But before she could reach out to help it, the little bird lifted in flight toward the thick protection of the honeysuckle bushes. The mother dove flew right behind it.

Taking a deep breath, Stella sank back on her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t know why she cried so hard, sitting there all alone in her garden, the first fat drops of rain hitting her. She only knew that something deeply imbedded inside her heart had opened like a raw wound as she’d watched the mother dove trying desperately to fight for her baby.

And then, suddenly, Stella knew why she was so upset, why watching the doves had so moved her.

Her own mother had never fought for her like that.

Stella looked up at the clouds floating by in the blue-gray sky, the rain coming as fast as her own tears. “Why, Lord?” she said on a rusty whisper. “Why did she do that to me?”

The only answer Stella heard was the thunder off in the distance and the gentle cooing of the mother dove, calling to her fledgling.

Adam came running up to the house, out of breath and soaked to the bone. He had to find Stella. But when he saw her sitting on her knees, crying, he was afraid to tell her what had happened.

“Stella?”

She turned at the sound of his voice, her tear-streaked face full of both awe and fear. Quickly wiping her eyes, she asked, “Adam, what are you doing back so soon?”

Adam bent down beside her, ignoring her question for now. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, took the hand he offered. Her skirt was wet and muddy, her eyes swollen. “An old alley cat tried to get one of the baby doves.”

Adam pulled her up, then stood close as he steadied her. “I’m sorry.”

“The baby got away, because the mother fluttered and fussed, me right along with her. We scared the cat and the baby went into the bushes. But could you check on it for me?”

Adam wanted to do that, but he had to tell her. There was no way around it. “Later, honey. Right now we need to get to the emergency room.”

Stella backed away from him, her eyes full of confusion and dread. “Why? What happened?”

“It’s your daddy. He—”

She stepped back, shaking her head. “No, don’t you tell me that, Adam. My daddy was just fine this morning.”

Adam held her steady, but he felt the tremors moving over her body. “He started having trouble breathing just as the service started. We called 9-1-1 and an ambulance came. They got him stabilized, but we need to get to the hospital.”

“No,” she said, shock coloring her face in a pale white. “No, this can’t be happening.” Then she gasped. “I hear a siren. I heard the ambulance.”

“C’mon,” Adam said. “I’ll drive you to the hospital. He’ll probably be just fine by the time we get there.”

“But he’s not well,” she said as Adam guided her toward the house. “He’s not well, Adam.”

“I know, I know,” Adam said. “We just have to pray that the doctors can figure out what happened.”

The look on her face scared him. She didn’t want to believe in prayer. “Do you think God will save my daddy, Adam?”

“I can’t promise that,” he said as he watched her turning off lights before she grabbed her purse. “But I’ll tell you this.” He pulled her close, his face inches from hers. “No matter what happens,
I’ll
be here, Stella. I can promise you that.”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she whirled and headed out the door toward his truck, her hands clutching her big shoulder bag. Adam decided he’d have to do all the praying for both of them.

Stella paced the small waiting area outside the emergency room at the nearby hospital. She was cold and wet, and she couldn’t stop shivering in spite of the clean blanket a nurse had brought her. “Why aren’t they telling us anything?”

Adam sat in his chair, watching her. “We’ll know soon, I hope.”

“Are you sure Kyle is okay?”

“I just called the Creamers,” he said, “and he’s fine. They took him to a fast-food place after church. Now they’re back at the house. Mrs. Creamer is manning the phones and the check-in desk, too.”

“We don’t have anyone coming today, that I know of,” Stella said, her voice vague and scratchy. “I got a call yesterday about a wedding later in the summer, but nothing else—” She stopped, pushed at her hair. “Adam, I can’t stand this. I’m going to find a nurse.”

He was up and in front of her before she hit the doors, his hands reaching for hers. “Now, just hold on. You just harassed the nurses five minutes ago. Let ’em do their work, okay?”

She gave him a murderous look, then sank down in a vinyl chair. “Okay.”

Her quietness was even more worrisome than her frantic ranting when they’d first come inside the emergency-room doors. Adam wasn’t sure what would happen if her father got worse or didn’t make it. Stella might not ever forgive herself or God, for that matter. He didn’t know how to console her, so he sat still and prayed for the right words.

He sat down beside her, afraid to touch her, afraid to talk to her. If he did or said the wrong thing, she’d shatter right before his eyes. Stella pretended to be strong, but Adam knew differently. And he so wanted to break through to that tender heart deep inside her pain.

He wasn’t prepared for her tears. When he heard her sniffing, he touched a finger to her chin. “It’s gonna be all right.”

“You can’t promise me that, so don’t even try.”

“No, I can’t promise you anything, but you just have to have faith—”

She turned on him then, her eyes heated with disbelief and anger. “Have faith that God will make things right? That He’ll take care of my son and me? Have faith that even if I die old and alone, God will be there waiting on the other side of all my misery? I’m sorry, Adam, but I can’t see that right now.”

“You’re worried and upset,” he said, thinking he was pushing the envelope here. “Just try to relax and…ask God for some help.”

She put a hand over her mouth, then whispered, “I’ve been doing that since the day my mother walked out on us. But…I don’t think God is listening to my pleas.” A sob shuddered through her. “I guess some of us just aren’t worthy of that kind of attention, that kind of peace.”

Adam took her hand in his. “You are worthy, Stella. God doesn’t play favorites. If he did, I sure wouldn’t be on the list.”

She sniffed, pushed his hand away. “Don’t give me that. You were—are—one of the good guys, Adam. You worked to help people down in New Orleans.”

Adam felt his own anger boiling red-hot. “I wasn’t a hero, Stella. You want to know why I left, why I haven’t talked to anyone in my family very much since I came here? And why I don’t want you to know about all of that? Well, I’ll tell you. I found out one of my brothers was doing something illegal and I tried to cover for him. He’s a plumber and construction worker and he was doing some price gouging on the side after the hurricane. I turned a blind eye because I loved him. It got both of us in hot water. I didn’t have the courage to arrest my own brother, but I should have. Now, half my family is not speaking to me because I didn’t arrest him and the other half isn’t talking to me because I came clean and told the truth after he got caught. I had to walk away from my job and my life, all because I was trying to protect someone I loved. So don’t ever think I’m some sort of hero or good guy. I’m a human being and I made a bad mistake. And that’s why I don’t want to talk about it.”

He stopped, saw the shocked expression on her face but he was so tired and weary, he was beyond caring. “I’m sorry. You wanted to know what I’m running from. Well, I guess I’ve been running from myself.”