Huckleberry Hearts (28 page)

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She wanted to believe him so badly. “It doesn't matter how much you like me if you find me repulsive.”

He jerked his head back. “Repulsive?”

“I've seen how you avoid touching me, like I've got some contagious disease. You cringe when you have to shake my hand.”

He looked stunned. “Oh . . . wow. Is that . . . is that what you think?” With both hands, he kneaded his forehead as if he were trying to sand his eyebrows off. After what seemed like three weeks, he dropped his hands and took another step forward, gazing at her as if she held all his happiness in her eyes. He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her face. “Cassie, sometimes I want to kiss you so bad, my whole body shakes. Sometimes I think I'll go insane.”

“You do?” She couldn't keep from sounding breathless as he focused his gaze on her lips. “Then why . . .”

“I want to be your key chain,” he said, his voice as soft as a feather pillow.

“My key chain?”

He winced. “Ever since I laid eyes on you, I've been trying to deserve you, trying to be the kind of man you could love. Don't freak out, Cassie, but I love you. I love you so much that I can barely function when I'm not with you.”

Warmth pulsed through her veins as her heart hammered an untamed cadence.

“I want to be your Sir Galahad,” he said. “To love you with a pure heart, to prove myself worthy.”

She couldn't breathe. The emotions swelling in her chest and swirling inside her head were too intense. He loved her! “Really?”

“Really.”

“Then I think you'd better kiss me.”

Without a second's hesitation, he pulled her into him as if she were his missing piece. His solid arms enveloped her as he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her like a thirsty man in search of water.

All she could do was hold on tight and hope that her legs would still support her when he let go. Who knew so much blissful emotion could be put into one kiss? She was flying. She was dancing. She was wind and light and water, all at the same time.

If she could bottle this feeling like she bottled maple syrup, she'd be a billionaire.

Still keeping his arms firmly around her, he pulled away, breathless and trembling. “Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?” he whispered. He kissed her again, more deliberately this time, but his touch still left her light-headed.

He traced his thumb along her jawline and brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek. “Have I scared you away yet?”

“I may be timid, but I don't scare easy.”

He laughed and tried to squeeze the stuffing out of her. Then he kissed her again until she felt like a quivering pile of jelly. It was the most wonderful, off-kilter feeling in the world.

This time he pulled away quickly and took two giant steps backward. “We should stop now.”

Putting a halt to the kissing was the last thing Cassie wanted to do. “Why?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “It's better to stop while I still have a shred of self-control left.”

“I trust you,” she said.

He gave her a crooked grin. “That's why we need to stop.” He held out his hand to her. “Is this okay?”

She smiled and laced her fingers with his. “Better than okay.” She picked up her headlamp, doused the lantern, and strolled out of the barn hand in hand with Zach Reynolds. She felt like laughing at the pure joy of it.

They ambled up the porch steps. All Cassie could think about was how much she liked the feel of Zach's hand in hers.

They stood at the front door. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“I'll be boiling sap all day,” she said.

“Do you need a wood chopper?”

Her heart skipped imagining the sight of Zach hefting an axe. “More than anything.”

“I'll be here as soon as my shift is over. If Elmer Lee comes wanting to chop wood, don't let him do it. And don't let him kiss you either.”

She giggled. “I promise not to let Elmer Lee near the wood or my lips.”

“Good,” Zach said. “Because I'm not afraid to break my nose again.”

Still keeping hold of her hand, he leaned over and brushed a swift kiss across her lips. “I had no idea this much happiness existed in the entire world.”

“Me either.”

They both jumped as Dawdi threw open the front door, practically yanking it off its hinges. “Come in, Doctor. It's warmer if you do your kissing indoors.”

Zach chuckled. “I better go. My shift starts in a couple of hours and I need to get some sleep. My friend Austin is having surgery in the morning.”

Cassie squeezed his hand. “Austin is going to be okay, Zach. God is faithful. He will see that surgery goes well.”

The warmth in his eyes made her feel squishy. “I know you're right. You've made me believe in God's goodness again.”

Titus and Mammi appeared at the door, Mammi with her scooter and Titus with his toothpick. “Give me your hands,” Mammi said, her eyes alight with determination. “Five prayers together will hie straight to heaven.”

Zach looked at Mammi as if she'd just offered to donate a kidney. “Thank you,” he said. “I'd really appreciate it. How can Austin not get better with all of you praying for him?”

“God will hear us,” Cassie said.

“Titus,” Dawdi said. “You were a good tree tapper today. Will you pray?”

Titus nodded solemnly, pulled the toothpick from his mouth, and bowed his head.

Holding hands, they stood together in the doorway and prayed for Austin. Cassie slipped in her own little prayer of thanksgiving for Zach, his growing faith, and the happiness she'd found just being with him.

He was an unexpected and essential blessing, and she didn't ever want to live without him.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bundled up in her coat and scarf, Cassie sat on an overturned bucket with her GRE study book in her lap watching the maple sap boil. Boiling sap wasn't a hard job, but someone had to be there to make sure the fire didn't burn out and the forest didn't burn down. Under the simple shelter, three large copper kettles sat on tripod stands atop three fire pits made of cinder blocks and bricks. They burned hardwood because it gave the syrup a smoky flavor that customers had come to expect from Huckleberry syrup. It was Cassie's job to tend the fire, haul wood from the woodpile, stir the sap occasionally, and study for the GRE, if she could.

She found any academic pursuit impossible today because Zach kept creeping into her thoughts and taking up residence there. Just remembering his kisses last night and the warmth of his arms tightly around her made her feel giddy and ecstatic and oh, so breathless.

What time did he say he'd be coming? She'd be worthless until he got here. And when he arrived, she'd be even more worthless.

She stood and set her book on the stool. Maybe she should get more wood. The first kettle of sap had been boiling since nine this morning. It had almost boiled down enough to transport inside and finish on the stovetop. Once it came to the right temperature, Cassie and Emma would quickly pour the finished syrup into pint jars. They'd sell a lot of syrup at the May auction.

Emma and Ben had come this morning to help empty buckets, and they would return in about an hour to empty them again and help Cassie bottle the syrup. Titus lingered somewhere, helping Dawdi with the chickens or the milking, ready to do any heavy lifting she needed.

She trudged to the woodpile by the toolshed, filled her arms with logs, and went back to the sugar shack, where she deposited the wood on the ground near the first fire.

“You didn't let Elmer Lee chop that, did you?” Zach's smile was like springtime as he ducked between the sumac bushes and came to her.

Her heart did seven somersaults and a triple backflip. His coat was unzipped, and he wore the pink shirt she liked so much.
My
, but he was handsome. She'd never get enough of that crooked nose.

He stood on the edge of the clearing as if waiting for her to give him permission to approach. She grinned at him and stretched out her hand. He let out a deep breath, and in two long strides he'd closed the distance between them, hooked his arm around her waist, and planted an achingly gentle kiss on her lips.

“Is that okay?” he said. “Because I am capable of keeping my distance. I don't like to, but I can.”

“If you keep your distance, I'll be able to keep my wits,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close for another heart-pounding kiss. “But who needs wits?”

Both arms slid around her this time, and he lifted her feet right off the ground in his enthusiasm. After he kissed her again, he set her on her feet and released her. She nearly toppled over. Kissing tended to make her ankles mushy.

He coiled his hand around the back of his neck. “It's a little disconcerting how hard it is to control myself when I'm with you. You're just so beautiful. But I promise your virtue is always safe with me.”

She wanted to kiss him for being so noble, but maybe that wasn't such a good idea when her pulse already raced out of control. “I know,” she said as she felt a blush warm her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“So, I've written down the rules.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.

“Rules?”

“They are the kissing rules that my mom made when I was a teenager. I didn't follow them, but I still remember what they were.”

Cassie curled one side of her mouth. “Your mom made kissing rules?”

“She and Dad. They had three sons, and she's a very smart lady.” He unfolded his paper and read. “Rule number one: No kissing while sitting down.” He glanced up at her and flashed those white teeth. “This is so you don't end up making out on the couch in the rec room. Rule number two: No kissing in the car, which if you follow rule number one, you don't really need rule number two unless you have a really tall car that you can stand up in.”

“Like a motor home.”

“Rule number three: No being alone together in anybody's bedroom. And rule number four: Three kisses max per date.”

Cassie dropped her jaw in mock horror. “Only three? We've already reached our limit.”

He squinted and studied his list more closely. “Maybe that's a typo. I think it's supposed to say ‘thirty.'”

“And maybe it depends on your definition of a date. We're just hanging out at the sugar shack. I don't think you can officially call this a date.”

He smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “Dating is so overrated.” He inclined his head and gave her a swift kiss before sliding an arm around her shoulder. “How is the sap coming along?”

“It's almost as exciting as watching paint dry, only colder.” She pointed to the first kettle. “This one is almost ready to take to the house.”

“You've been busy.”

She caught her breath. “How did Austin's surgery go?”

Zach nodded eagerly. “Dr. Perez said it went really well. He's in recovery now. Jamie promised to call as soon as he's lucid enough for visitors.”

“Oh, Zach. I've been praying so hard.”

The tenderness in his eyes stole her breath. “Thank you. So have I. He was doing well enough that I thought it was okay to sneak out for a minute to come and see you.”

“And when do you sleep?”

“I don't need sleep. Not when just thinking of you gives me a boost of pure energy.”

Zach's phone rang. Cassie smiled when she heard his ringtone. “
Because I'm happy. Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof . . .
”

He smiled with his whole face. “I changed it last night. You know, 'cuz can't nothing bring me down.”

She giggled.

“It's Jamie,” he said. “I'll put her on speaker.” He swiped his finger across the screen. “Hello, Jamie?”

“Zach?”

“Yeah, I've got you on speaker with Cassie. She's been worried about Austin.”

Cassie's heart plunged to the ground when she heard the gut-wrenching sob on the other end. “Zach. Something happened. He went into cardiac arrest.”

Zach furrowed his brow. “Okay. I'm coming over right now. Everything's going to be okay.”

Another sob that shattered Cassie's hopes. “You can't. You can't help. Austin . . . Austin is gone.”

Cassie clapped her hands over her mouth as a gaping, gnashing emptiness threatened to consume her. Austin was dead? That poor little boy. That poor sorrowing mother.

Zach gasped and turned as pale as Death himself. His phone slipped from his fingers, and he stumbled backward as if he'd been shot.

“Oh, Zach,” Cassie moaned. “I'm so sorry.” She reached for him, but he recoiled from her touch as if he wanted to suffer the full weight of exquisite grief all by himself.

Pressing his palms to his eyes, he doubled over and roared in anguish. Cassie had never heard a more primal, heartrending sound.

Stunned by some invisible bolt of lightning, Cassie drew a gulp of air into her lungs. “We've got to get over there. We've got to see what we can do for Jamie.”

With a wild look in his eyes, he paced around and around the clearing as if he had to get somewhere quickly but had nowhere to go. “God wasn't supposed to let this happen. We prayed, Cassie. All of us prayed. He wasn't supposed to let this happen.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “You told me I just needed to have enough faith. Why did God take him?”

“I don't know.”

He seemed to turn on her. “You knew all the answers before, and suddenly you don't know anything? You told me . . . you were so sure.”

“I'm sure of God, but nothing else.”

“You're sure of God? How can you be sure of God? Austin wanted to play soccer.” Zach lifted his tearstained face to the sky. “Was that too much to ask? Are You so heartless that You couldn't even let a little boy live long enough to play soccer?”

Cassie's tears flowed down her face. “Zach, it's going to be okay. Austin is with God now. He doesn't have any more pain. He's free.”

Zach snapped his head around to glare at Cassie. “You said God would heal him.”

“No, Zach. I said that God
could
heal him, but our ways are not God's ways.”

“So God wanted Austin to die?”

Cassie didn't know what to say. Zach was inconsolable, and she found it impossible to give him answers she didn't have. If he blamed God for Austin's death, she didn't know how to comfort him. Jesus could not heal him if he wouldn't open his heart to God's love.

Zach seemed to lose all strength. He sank to the overturned bucket, propped his elbows in his knees, and cradled his head in his hands.

Cassie came close and laid a light hand on his shoulder. He didn't move. “I don't know anything, Zach,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I don't know why God chooses death for some and not for others. All I know is that Jesus said, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.'”

With his face still buried in his hands, he took great shuddering breaths that seemed to shake his whole body. When he spoke, his words were muffled and heavy, but she heard them clearly enough. “I don't buy into your blind faith anymore, Cassie.”

Her mouth went dry. “My blind faith?”

He lifted his head. “What has all your feel-good religion gotten me? What good has it done for anyone? Did Jamie think all her church work would save her son? Did all your praying give him one more minute of life?”

“It was in God's hands. All we could do was pray and leave it in God's hands.”

He frowned and pressed his palm to his forehead as if he were trying to erase the pain. “I had faith because you had faith, Cassie. I let down my guard and you led me right into an ambush. I was weak and trusting and naïve. You made me believe.” He laughed softly, bitterly. “You made me believe.”

He might as well have slapped her. “I'm sorry” was all she could think to say. She stood in a barren, frozen wasteland where spring would never come again.

“I'm sorry too,” he said, spitting the barely audible words out of his mouth.

She shook so violently, she could barely speak. “It doesn't matter what you think of me right now. We've got to get to the hospital to be with Jamie.”

He stood and squared his shoulders. “Not
we
.
Me
.”

She felt the sting of his bitterness all the way to her bones. “Zach, don't do this.”

He scooped his phone off the ground and marched out of the clearing. “Keep away from me with your blind faith and your meaningless platitudes,” he snapped. “I'm not listening anymore.”

And then he was gone, taking her heart with him. Numb with grief, she sat down on her bucket and cried until Titus found her and took her into the house.

Zach eased his body onto the sofa. He felt like an old war vet with a dozen battle scars and a thousand aches and pains. He'd been at the hospital for over two hours, helping Jamie make arrangements for the body, closing the loop with Austin's doctors, keeping Jamie's cup refilled with hot black coffee. Two sugars, no cream.

An hour after he'd arrived, Cassie had shown her face at the hospital, along with several friends from church and Jamie's parents and brother. Jamie's ex-husband was also there, looking like one of the walking dead from one of those dark and disturbing television shows.

Most patients with subacute bacterial endocarditis did well with heart surgery. Austin was just too sick. His little body couldn't take the stress.

Zach had set aside his own grief so that he could help everybody else deal with theirs. Wasn't that what doctors were supposed to do? Be a comfort to their patients even when they were barely surviving themselves?

He should probably call Mom. She had been thrilled when he'd asked her and her Bible study group to pray for Austin. Not thrilled that Austin was sick, but thrilled that her son even considered prayer as a solution to anything.

Yeah. Well. He wouldn't try that again.

He pulled out his phone. He hadn't looked at it for hours. There was a text from Cassie that he didn't want to read. She had served him a heaping plate of hope, but now it tasted like poison.

She'd probably sent some Bible verse or some well-meaning cliché like
He was too good for this world or God must have needed another angel in heaven
. God didn't need another angel. God had millions of angels. Surely He could spare the life of one little boy and still have a pretty good choir.