Love Comes Home (4 page)

Rachel continued forward. As she approached the bed, she heard Rod say, “I will do my best, my dear. I promise.”

Mom G. nodded. “We have to try.”

Rod stood. “Here's Rachel, back just in time. I have to take off, but I'll return this evening.”

“Your coffee.”

“Thank you.” He took the cup and walked from the room.

“Such a nice man.” Mom G. stared after him.

“He is.” Rachel lifted a brow. “You and Rod have become close. You never said anything in your letters or phone calls.”

Mom G. smiled slightly and a blush brightened her pale cheeks. Rachel laughed, loving the life shining from Mom G.'s eyes. If only she could hold on to that.

“Where's Josh?” Mom G. asked.

Rachel sat in the chair. “He said he'd be here.”

Mom G. took her hand. “I'm going to rest until he arrives. Please wake me.”

“Of course.”

Mom G. closed her eyes. Rachel listened, thankful Mom G. breathed easier than she had earlier, but she couldn't shake the fear Mom G. might not reawaken.

Dropping her head onto the side of the bed, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut.
Lord, Your word says to count it all joy when we fall into various trials. This sickness is a trial that affects so many people. Mom G., Rod, Josh, me. Where's the joy, Lord? Show me, teach me. I don't understand.

The low beeping of the machines, combined with Mom G.'s soft breathing, lulled Rachel's senses. Heart heavy with concern, she allowed herself to rest.

 

Josh pushed opened the door to Mrs. G.'s hospital room and stepped in. He stopped short when he saw Rachel sitting in the chair, her body bent forward and her head resting against the blue covers of the bed.
He could see the steady rise and fall of the blankets over Mrs. G.

They were both resting. He started to leave, but found himself staring into Rachel's crystal-blue gaze. She straightened and her black hair brushed loosely across her shoulders. She wore the clothes he'd seen her in yesterday. She hadn't left and he doubted she'd had more than a few moments of rest.

She blinked several times. “Hi,” she said softly.

She sounded young and vulnerable, more like the girl he'd known. His heart twisted with longing. He pushed the unwanted emotion aside and told himself he felt sympathy for her for what was to come. Nothing else. “Where's my dad?”

“He left.”

Josh frowned. “We came together, but he sent me to get coffee for him.”

Rachel smiled ruefully. “With cream and sugar.”

“Yes.” He smiled and held out one of the cups in his hand. “I brought you one, too.”

She stood and took the cup from him. Her hands shook slightly.

“Have you eaten?” He didn't appreciate the sudden need to take care of her.

“No.” She sipped from the coffee cup.

He watched her press the cup to her mouth. He remembered kissing those lips so many years ago. Remembered her soft, pliant mouth beneath his, the way she'd felt in his arms.

Angry at the unwanted course of his thoughts, he averted his gaze. “You shouldn't drink that on an empty stomach. Why don't we go to the cafeteria and get some breakfast?”

She shook her head. “She wanted me to wake her when you got here.”

Even though Mrs. G. lay a few feet away, being this close to—this intimate with—Rachel troubled him. It was too easy to remember the past, to remember how he'd once loved her, how she'd looked at him with love in her blue eyes. Too easy to remember that she'd wanted to be a doctor more than she'd wanted to be with him. And being a doctor had changed her. The woman standing before him set his nerves on edge.

“I'll let you do the honors.” He took her cup and set it, along with his own, on the side table.

Rachel lay a hand on Mrs. G.'s shoulder. “Mom G., Josh is here.”

Mrs. G. stirred. Her eyelids fluttered.

Josh's chest tightened. Mrs. G. had been such a godsend to him and his family. They'd kept in touch after Rachel left town, and when Andrea died, Mrs. G. had insisted on keeping Griff while Josh had dealt with the funeral arrangements. Then she'd insisted on continuing to care for his son while he worked. She'd become the grandmother that Griff needed.

And now they were losing her. Josh didn't know if his heart could take much more loss, and he worried what the loss would do to his son.

Mrs. G.'s eyes opened fully and she smiled weakly. “Thank you, Josh, for coming.”

Josh moved closer. “Of course I'm here. I'll always be here,” he said softly. From the corner of his eye he saw Rachel glance at him.

“We're both here, Mom G.,” she said softly.

Mrs. G. lifted her hand from the bed and held it
out. Rachel immediately wrapped her own hand around Mrs. G.'s.

“Josh.” Mrs. G.'s intent was clear. He hesitated before he slowly lifted his own hand and placed it over Rachel's. He kept his gaze trained on Mrs. G. and ignored the cool hand beneath his palm.

“I need a promise from…you both.”

He glanced at Rachel. Her gaze met his. The wariness in her eyes reflected his own. Whatever Mrs. G. wanted, they would do everything in their power to make it happen.

As if she'd heard his thoughts, Rachel nodded imperceptibly and turned to Mrs. G. “Yes, of course, we'll promise you anything.”

“Of course.” Josh murmured his agreement.

His brows drew slightly together as he met the older woman's gaze. A mischievous glint twinkled in Mrs. G.'s eyes. Josh dismissed it as a trick of the light. Then she said, “Promise me that you two will take care of each other when I'm gone.”

Josh stilled. Mischief nothing, the woman was bent on matchmaking! And he'd just given his word he'd do anything for her.

He hoped that wasn't a mistake he'd come to regret.

D
ismay sat heavy on Josh's chest, but he saw the fledgling hope in Mrs. G.'s expression and determination set in. He would do anything it took to fulfill her dying wish.

Hers would be one grave he wouldn't stand over with regret.

His gaze slid to Rachel. A slow red stain spread over her cheeks. She shook herself, glanced at him with wide, panicked eyes and then began to sputter, “Mom G. I…can't— You can't possibly expect…”

Josh tightened his fingers around Rachel's.

She ignored him. “We can't make a promise like that.”

Josh applied more pressure. “Rachel, we can do this,” he said with deliberate slowness.

Her head snapped toward him, her expression thunderous. “What?”

He was not going to argue with her in front of Mrs. G. It was bad enough that she was balking. He refused to subject Mrs. G. to the tempest that was about to
explode. Because, like it or not, he was going to make sure she agreed. He couldn't let her live with the kind of regret that plagued him. He lifted Rachel's hand away from Mrs. G.'s. “We need to discuss this outside.”

Rachel stared at him mutinously. “There's nothing to discuss. It can't be done. I live thousands of miles away, Josh.”

He smiled tightly at Mrs. G. “We'll be right back.” He tugged on Rachel's hand. She pulled against him but finally stood and jerked her hand from his grasp.

“Fine,” she snapped, her expression softening as she looked at Mrs. G. “You'll be okay?”

Mrs. G. blinked. “Of course.”

Rachel strode out of the room. Josh watched her go. She'd become quite a formidable woman. He normally chose to defuse confrontational situations long before they came to a head. That skill made him a good manager of the forestry team he was responsible for. But he found a part of himself looking forward to seeing the sparks fly, to being a part of the controlled energy that was Rachel.

Filled with anticipation, he winked at Mrs. G. before following in Rachel's wake, confident he could manage her.

 

Rachel's head was going to explode. Anger raged, pounding at her temples. She couldn't make such a promise. She wouldn't lie to Mom G. How dare Josh even consider promising something he had no intention of fulfilling?

She rubbed at her temples, trying for a calm that was proving elusive. She could control her emotions.
She was a doctor, a professional, standing in a hospital corridor, after all. She wouldn't cause a scene.

But the second Josh stepped into the hall radiating confidence, she whirled on him, her vow to remain calm pushed aside. “What was that all about? What are you trying to do?”

Rachel paced away from Josh in an effort to cool her temper.

Unruffled, he stated, “Trying to make Mrs. G. happy.”

She screeched to a halt. “By lying to her? You think that's going to make her happy? Is your conscience out to lunch?”

Josh held up a hand. “Whoa, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” She didn't appreciate him pointing out the obvious. Unfortunately her reserve of cool and collected was suddenly lacking. And it was Josh's fault. Something about the man he'd become caused her to lose her self-restraint. She didn't like being this out of sorts. It was too much; she felt too vulnerable.

She needed calm. She needed to breathe.
In slow, out slow, find the calm.
“We can't make that promise.”

The dark green of his button-down shirt magnified the intent look in his eyes. “We said we'd do anything for her.”

“But…not this. Are you out of your mind?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I don't want to live regretting that I didn't do everything I could to make Mrs. G. happy.”

His words struck her with sharp bites of guilt. “I want to make her happy, too, but I can't do this.”

His expression hardened. “How difficult would it
be for you to set your feelings aside for a moment and do something for her?”

She drew back, stung. “I'm not being selfish, Josh. I'm being realistic.”

His look said he didn't believe her.

“Think for a second, Josh.” Her hand gesturing wildly. “Your life's here. My life's in Chicago. And I'm leaving as soon as Mom—”

She froze. She widened her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand as she realized what she'd almost said. A tremor assaulted her body. The reality of the situation hit her full force. No matter how good the medical care, Mom G. was going to die. Sooner rather than later.

Just like her mother had.

No! This was different. Her mother hadn't received the best care possible. Mistakes had been made, inadequate procedures followed. None of that was happening with Mom G. It was God's decision.
He
was in control.

She squeezed her eyes tight and fought the tears building, clogging her throat. She didn't want Josh to see her like this. She hated this feeling of utter helplessness.

God, I need you. I can't face this on my own.

She heard Josh let out an exasperated groan. Then his arms came around her, pulling her to his chest. She stiffened in shock. The odd combination of his woodsy-and-spice scent filled her head, evoking images of Christmastime. She longed to melt into his big broad chest and partake of the comfort being offered.

She didn't want his comfort. It hurt too much because it came from pity, not affection, but she
couldn't deny the warmth soaking her through, making her conscious of every point of contact between them, every bunching muscle, every beat of his heart.

She swallowed her tears and broke away from him before she gave in to the attraction building between them.

Bereft of his warmth, she wrapped her arms around her middle.
Focus, Rachel, focus.
“What had Mom G. asked us to promise? To take care of each other. It wasn't like she was asking us to get married.”

“Right.” Josh's voice drew her attention.

She hadn't realized she'd spoken her thoughts out loud. “But how?”

“I don't know, but we'll figure out a way.”

She stared down the hall. Maybe Josh had a point. It could be done. Through telephone calls, Christmas cards, e-mail. They could take care of each other long-distance. In ways that wouldn't wreak havoc on her life. Or his.

She straightened to her full height, still only barely reaching his shoulders. “You're right. We'll find a way. We can do this.”

He smiled approvingly. “Yes, we can.”

She resented how good his approval felt.

As Rachel swept by him and back into Mrs. G.'s room, Josh took a moment to recover from the shock of seeing Rachel almost shatter. It tore him up inside to know she hadn't completely accepted the eventuality of Mrs. G.'s death. Rachel was trying so hard to be strong. Behind her controlled exterior was a woman struggling against death and grief. He understood why Mrs. G. wanted his promise. When Mrs. G. died, Rachel was going to need an anchor to hold on to because the arctic storm brewing within her
would be overwhelming. Whether he liked it or not, he would be there for Rachel because he'd promised.

 

Mom G. stared up at Rachel with anxious eyes. Taking her hand, Rachel sought to reassure her. “We promise to take care of each other.” Rachel glanced at Josh next to her. His smile was pensive.

“Thank heaven.” Mom G. relaxed into the pillow for a moment and then looked at them with worried eyes. “I need one more thing from you both.”

Rachel braced herself. What more could she want from them? What more anguish would she have to suffer in Josh's presence?

Josh chuckled softly. “Whatever you need, Mrs. G.”

“Rachel, you need to eat. You're too thin. Josh take her to get something to eat.”

The motherly words touched Rachel deeply. “I'm okay, really.”

“Please, Josh, make her go,” Mom G. implored.

Rachel had had enough of Josh, thank you very much. “I'm not leaving you.”

“I don't want you to get sick, honey.”

A flutter of panic hit Rachel. What if she left and Mom G. died before she returned? Rachel knew she couldn't live with that. “Josh can bring something here.”

“I want to sleep, Rachel. I'll rest better knowing you're letting Josh take care of you. As you promised.”

Josh reached out and took her hand. She swallowed back the shiver of comfort in his heated touch. “Rachel, you need a break. We'll be back in a hour.”

“Anything could happen in an hour,” she whis
pered and pulled her hand free. Tears once again burned at the edges of her eyes.

“Do you trust God?”

She gazed into his warm hazel eyes. “Of course.” Her answer was automatic. There was no question in her mind she trusted God. He'd seen her through so much and had given her the direction for her life.

Josh placed his hand on her shoulder; heat spread out from the point of contact. “Then let's entrust her to His care and ask for Him not to take her until you've returned.”

This was a test of her faith and she hated the sudden hesitation gripping her soul. She wanted to know where Josh stood. Had his faith survived the death of his wife? “Is your faith that strong?”

Something akin to anguish flittered across his face, but then it was gone, replaced by determination. “Right now it is.”

She had her answer. His relationship with Christ had suffered. She understood. To lose the one you loved so suddenly, without having a chance to say goodbye, would be enough to rock the most solid of foundations.

Mom G. squeezed her fingers. The weight of Josh's hand on her shoulder imprinted her skin. Her gaze darted between the two. Did she have enough faith? A still, quiet moment slipped by and Rachel was filled with a comforting peace. She nodded.
Please, God, let there be time for me to say goodbye.

Rachel listened to Josh's words of prayer, felt them reverberate within her heart, filling her with comfort she gladly accepted. She'd always loved the sound of his resonant voice, could listen to him talk for hours. Time had only deepened the timbre, matured it in a
way that was very appealing. And his words of faith were a balm to her weary soul.

“Thank you, Josh,” Rachel murmured.

“Shall we?” He gestured toward the door.

Rachel kissed Mom G. goodbye, noting how drawn and exhausted she looked. Mom G. had expended a great deal of energy in securing the promise she wanted. It made Rachel more determined to comply.

Josh led the way out of the room. Rachel walked to the nurses' station, where she gave them her beeper number and elicited a promise from Jamie to make sure Mom G. received some tea before her next chemo session, which she was scheduled for within the hour.

“Everything okay?” Josh asked as they boarded the elevator.

“Yes.” She followed him to the cafeteria.

Josh held open the door for her to pass through. The rattle of dishes and the rumble of voices greeted them. In one corner, a young mother spoon-fed a fussy toddler, while doctors and nurses, their white coats or green scrubs distinguishable, relaxed at several tables.

With metal trays in hand, Rachel and Josh went through the food line.

Even though it was only midmorning, Rachel chose a salad. She didn't want the heaviness of breakfast fare. Josh picked a hamburger and fries. “That food's going to sit in your stomach like a rock,” she commented.

He grinned. “I'm a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”

“Apparently.”

At the cashier, Josh insisted on paying. Though she
was used to taking care of herself, Rachel didn't argue. She needed to think about something else. Anything. She searched her mind for a topic of conversation, but unfortunately with Josh, all they had was the past.

“Whatever happened to your '65 Chevy?” she asked as they took their seats at a table near the floor-to-ceiling window. The warm sun fell on her back and she shrugged out of her jacket.

“I still have her.” Josh sat opposite her.

“She runs? You were always tinkering with the engine, replacing one thing or another.”

The corner of Josh's mouth twitched. “Sort of.”

“Do you ever drive her out to the lake?” Now why'd she go and ask that? Cherry Lake had been a special place for them. A place to go when the world was too hectic and intrusive. It occurred to her that there at the lake, alone with Josh, she'd never experienced that trapped, restless sensation. She mentally shrugged the notion off, attributing the lack of restlessness to being a teenager in love.

Any semblance of a smile vanished from his face. “No,” came the terse answer.

Silence, dense and thick, filled the air between them.

Pushing her Cobb salad around with her fork, she searched for a neutral topic. “Does your dad still work for the forestry service?”

“He's semiretired.” He picked up his hamburger and took a bite.

“That's nice for him.”

“Uh-huh.”

Frustrated that he wasn't being cooperative with
small talk, she watched him drown his French fries in ketchup. The red gooey mess didn't look healthy.

She ate slowly, her body recognizing the need for sustenance, but her mind rebelled, urging her back to Mom G. After a long moment of silence she tried again. “And you, Josh? What do you do?”

“I'm a ranger.”

“You are?” Surprise echoed in her voice.

He glanced at her sharply. “I wouldn't lie.”

“I didn't mean to suggest you would.” She softened her voice. “You used to talk about going into the forestry service. I didn't think…” She trailed off, not wanting to offend him.

“You didn't think I would.” He sounded amused.

“No, truth be told, I figured when you married Andrea you'd settle into a nine-to-five job and have a picture-perfect life.” She'd imagined him living the fantasy. The fantasy they'd dreamed together those days long ago. An old Victorian house, the dog, the picket fence. Those were the things they'd wanted.