And the Shofar Blew (35 page)

Eunice saw the sign for Rockville and thought of Stephen Decker. How long had it been since she’d seen him? It was even longer since they’d talked. She debated stopping by to see how he was doing. Samuel had told the Bible study group that Stephen was leading his own group now. That pleased her very much. She had seen him grow as a Christian over the years. It was a pity he and Paul weren’t still friends. Considering the character assassination Paul had allowed, she doubted they could ever be friends again.

The exit came up and she pulled off the highway. Paul wouldn’t miss her. He always played golf with one of the board members after Sunday services. Unless he had another call for emergency counseling. That had happened more often lately. Even though VNLC now had two psychologists on staff, Paul had a hard time letting go of anything.

Rockville was a quaint little town with a wide main street, high-false-front, Western-style buildings, tree-lined streets. She had no difficulty finding Stephen Decker’s place. She’d looked up his address once, but changed her mind about stopping by then.

The front door was wide open. Her heart quickened when she saw Stephen. She hadn’t expected that, and debated turning around, getting back in her car, and driving away before he noticed her. Instead, she stood rooted, her heart in her throat. He was at a table, several books spread out around him, his Bible open. He was jotting down notes. When he lifted his head, her stomach dropped at the look on his face.

“Eunice?”

“I’m sorry if I interrupted. I just thought I’d drop by on my way home and see how you’re doing.” She knew it was a mistake, but didn’t know how to turn around now and walk away without adding insult to injury.

“Centerville is north.”

“I was in Los Angeles visiting Tim.”

He rose slowly from his stool. “You’re thinner.”

She felt a slight fluttering in her stomach. “Older, too.” Her laugh came out flat. Why had she come here? What impulse had driven her? “I was here once before. A long time ago.” She looked around. “Of course, I didn’t come inside the building. I just looked through the window.” She looked up at him, and the warmth in his eyes stirred her. “When it was first given to the church.”

He frowned, perplexed. “Given to the church?”

“You didn’t know?” She was relieved. “This was the property bequeathed to Centerville Christian. It belonged to one of the founding members. I never met the gentleman. He lived in a convalescent hospital north of Sacramento. We didn’t even know about him until Paul received word that Bjorn Svenson had left his property to the church.”

He understood. “And Paul sold it and put the money down on the property where VNLC is now.”

“Yes. That’s right.”

He looked shaken. “I didn’t know.”

“I was hoping you didn’t.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Some notion of getting back at Paul, I guess.”

He lowered his chin, eyes challenging. “That wouldn’t make me much of a Christian, would it?”

She was making a mess of things. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up past differences.” That seemed to annoy him further.

“Why are you sorry, Eunice? It wasn’t your fault things fell apart.”

“VNLC is still standing, Stephen. It’s magnificent. A testimony to your love of Christ.”

“Yeah, well, that’s one way of looking at it.”

“You don’t see it that way?”

“Time will tell if VNLC will stand or not.”

He had reason to be cynical. Paul had ill-used him. Worse, Paul had allowed gossip to cast shadows over Stephen’s reputation. Not that they had lasted long. People couldn’t be around Stephen for long without knowing he was a consummate professional. She hadn’t come with the intent of rousing old animosities, but to open the doorway for healing. She was naïve—stupid and naïve. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m glad you did.”

His tone had softened. So had his expression. Her heart thumped heavily.

“Dad?”

Stephen turned. “Brit. Come here. I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine.”

Eunice watched the girl saunter forward. Brittany tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her faded blue Levi’s and studied her disdainfully. Despite the punk clothes and haircut, the piercings and tattoos, Eunice thought she was beautiful. She had Stephen’s eyes. “Your father often talked about you.” Eunice extended her hand to the girl she had prayed for since hearing she was missing.

“Nothing good, I’ll bet.” Brittany shook her hand limply and let go.

Eunice glanced at Stephen. She could read nothing in his expression, nothing that gave her any indication of what kind of response was needed. She looked at Brittany again, looked deep. “I always had the impression your father adored you and couldn’t get enough time with you. He went to Sacramento every week to see you. Sometimes he mentioned plans he’d made.” Why did the girl’s eyes flicker? Eunice decided to take another track. “We prayed for you, Brittany. Your father, me, Samuel. Have you met Samuel Mason yet?”

“No.”

“Well, I hope you will. You’ll like him. Anyway, we were all praying for your safety and that you would call or come home or the private investigator would have good news—”

“Private investigator?”

“Your father hired him right after you left home. Didn’t he tell you?” She looked at Stephen, who still stood silent. “You went down to San Francisco, didn’t you, Stephen? I heard you stayed there for a week looking for Brittany.”

Brittany looked up at him. “You did?”

“Yes, I did.” It was a flat statement, no hint of what he was feeling.

“I didn’t think you cared.”

“I
care
a great deal.”

The girl’s face changed. She looked young and uncertain, even a bit frightened. “I wasn’t in San Francisco for more than a few days before I went down to Santa Cruz and then to Los Angeles eventually. I . . . ” She grimaced, bowed her head, and then tipped a look at Eunice. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Sorry.”

Eunice blushed. “You didn’t interrupt anything, Brittany. I just stopped by on my way home. I have a son close to your age. He’s living with his grandmother in Los Angeles.”

“Why isn’t your son living with you?”

It was a rude question, faintly challenging, but Eunice felt compelled to answer. “Timothy felt as though he were living under a magnifying glass. It’s not easy being a pastor’s son.”
Or wife.
She tried to change the subject. “I heard about your father’s latest project, and thought I’d take a look. He built the Valley New Life Center where my husband is serving as pastor. Did you know that?”

“He’s always building something.”

Stephen’s mouth tightened. “How’s Tim doing, Eunice?”

“Fantastic. He has a nice group of friends, and he and Lois get along very well.” She spoke brightly past her pain. “He’s on his way to Mexico with a youth group this week. They’re building houses south of Tijuana. And he’s talking about going to college in the Midwest.”

“Any chance of him coming home?”

Afraid to trust her voice, she shook her head.

“Why not?”

Eunice faced Brittany. The girl had no way of knowing she was probing her pain. Or did she? “Because he’s better off where he is. He can be himself. He’s free to spread his wings and fly anywhere God directs him.”

“In other words, he’s old enough to make up his mind where he wants to be and he’d rather be with his grandmother than his own parents.”

“That’s enough, Brittany.”

Eunice tried not to show how much the girl’s words had hurt. “Everyone wants to choose how they live and with whom, Brittany. As much as I want my son home with me, I see how he thrives with his grandmother. So I won’t ask and I won’t pressure him to come home.” She had Brittany’s full attention. “That’s a question you need to answer now. Where will you be able to grow into the woman God intended you to be? Where will you thrive?”

Brittany frowned, but had no comeback.

The three of them stood in uneasy silence.

Eunice spoke first. “Well, it was good to see you, Stephen.”

“Don’t go. You haven’t even seen the place yet.” He reached out.

Brittany looked at her father and back at Eunice. There was something troubling in that look, something all too knowing. “You want me to make some coffee?”

“Great idea, Brit. The coffee is in the right cabinet and—”

“I can find what I need.”

Stephen gave Eunice the grand tour from basement to second-story apartment. When they came upstairs, Brittany picked up an army coat. “I think I’ll go out for a walk.”

Eunice felt Stephen’s tension as he watched his daughter head for the back stairs.

Stephen poured coffee into two mugs. Eunice heard the front door downstairs close firmly. “When did you find her?”

“I didn’t. She found me. Brittany showed up on my doorstep out of the blue.” He took a chair and leaned back. “Every time she walks out the front door, I wonder if she’s going to disappear again. But I know if I try to hang on to her, that’ll send her running faster than anything.” He lifted his gaze, his eyes dark with pain. “It’s been awful the past few years.”

She had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about his runaway daughter. “That’s part of the reason I came by. I wanted to say how sorry I am that things didn’t work out better between you and Paul.”

“Why are
you
apologizing?”

“Well, I . . . ” She couldn’t very well say that Paul had no intention of doing so, as badly as it was needed. “I don’t like to see brothers at odds.”

“Nice thought, Eunice, but you can’t make someone else’s apology and have it mean anything.”

“I guess not. I keep hoping Paul will . . . ”
Come to his senses?
She couldn’t say such a thing aloud, not about her own husband. It was disloyal.

“Don’t worry about it.” He lifted his mug and looked at her over the rim as he drank. “I wasn’t mortally wounded.”

“Sometimes Paul rides roughshod over people when he’s doing the Lord’s work.”

“The Lord’s work? Is that what you call it?”

She blinked. He was angry, more angry than she had ever seen him.

“You and Paul aren’t getting along too well right now, are you?”

Confused, she stammered. “W-we’re getting along as well as we always did.”

“Oh. That good, huh?”

“I beg your pardon?”

He put his cup down. “You can’t possibly know what a temptation I’m facing right now.” He looked at her. “On several fronts.”

Her heart started pounding. It wasn’t what he said. It was the way he looked at her. He seemed closer, even with the table between them.

“I used to put it off as a stupid, childish crush, something that would pass with time. But it didn’t. It grew and went deeper. Remember that day at the hospital when you followed me out to the parking lot?”

She wanted to deny it and couldn’t. “Yes.”

“The fact that you remember tells me more than you might like me to know.”

She felt her cheeks heating up. How long had it been since Paul had looked at her as though he wanted more from her than her abilities as a pianist or church volunteer? Was this the reason she had come?

“You avoided me for months, Eunice.”

“I thought it was best.”

“You could hardly look me in the eye.”

“I . . . ”

“You don’t have to explain. We were both treading the straight and narrow. It hurt. At other times, it made me mad because . . . ” He shook his head. “But you were right.” She clasped her hands around her mug. He leaned forward slowly and her breath caught. “When I saw you in the door-way a while ago, I realized something.” His fingers brushed her hands and she felt a wild rush of sensation. “Nothing’s changed. For me, at least.”

“Or me, Stephen.”

“Careful how you say that.”

She drew her hands away from his touch. “I mean . . . ” She swallowed hard, her breath jittery. “I’m married.”

He leaned back. “I know.” His eyes gently mocked her. “Married and unhappy. And there’s the rub. I’d like to be the one to make you happy. Not just for a couple of hours up here in my apartment, but for the rest of our lives.”

She’d felt the sparks fly between them before, but the blaze of fire now frightened her. “I didn’t come to start anything.”

“I know that, too, Eunice. I know
you
. A pity Paul doesn’t.”

Wincing, she stood and went to the windows overlooking the street. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to leave gracefully. Why had she come? She and Stephen had never been able to make casual conversation. Too many currents moved beneath the surface. Riptides. Undertows. t would be so easy to be swept out to sea. What would Paul say if he knew she had come to Rockville to see Stephen Decker? She knew she shouldn’t be alone with this man. What had she been thinking? As a pastor’s wife, she shouldn’t be alone with any man in his home. It bred gossip. She stepped back from the window, turned, and found him standing right behind her. he had been so caught up in her own struggle she hadn’t heard him move. And now she would have to step around him to leave.

“You know what I think, Eunice? I think God moved me to Rockville to protect us both. And I think God brought Brittany home to make sure nothing happened between us now.”

She looked up and saw the pulse hammering in his neck. She was afraid to look into his eyes, afraid of seeing her own needs mirrored there.
Oh,
Lord. Lord, help me!
She was trembling.

Stephen stepped back. “I’ll walk you down.”

She let out her breath softly.

He gave her a tender, all-too-knowing look. He opened the door for her, but held it so that she couldn’t pass through it. The intensity was back in his eyes, the fire banked but still burning. “If I ever hear Paul’s out of your life, expect to find me on your doorstep.”

“That’s not likely to happen, is it?” She hadn’t meant to sound disappointed.

His expression changed. He avoided looking into her eyes as he let go of the door.

What was he thinking? She waited a few seconds before stepping over the threshold. “It was good to see you again, Stephen. You’ve done wonders with this building. Samuel said you’re teaching a Bible study. He’s very proud of you.”