Love Comes Home (16 page)

Then she moved, cutting off what he was about to say.

She leaned forward, her hand reaching to Griff. His son clung to her. Her expression was no less icy, but sparks of heat danced just beyond the cold. Would he ever be able to figure her out? “Griff, I'd love to stay. But that's something your father and I need to discuss.”

Floored, Josh sat back in his chair. She had no right to get his son's hopes up. No right to suggest there was some way for them. What about her precious career? What about her life in Chicago? He couldn't
allow himself to give in to the spurt of hope her words produced.

If he did, he'd never recover.

Enraged by Rachel's suggestive remark, Josh abruptly stood. “Griff, this is something we'll discuss later. Right now you need your rest.”

“Aw, Dad,” Griff complained, his gaze darting between the two adults.

“Go on, Griff. Your dad's right.”

Josh couldn't look at Rachel. He had to concentrate on his son. Had to get him out of there to a safer place. He picked Griff up and strode from the room.

“Dad, are you angry?”

Trying to control the wrath raging in his heart, Josh said carefully, “I'm upset.”

“Why?”

Climbing the stairs, Josh wondered how best to answer that question. He decided on the direct and honest approach. “Because I'd like Rachel to stay, too, but she can't. She's a doctor and that will always be her priority.”

Griff frowned, seeming to think over his father's words. “But she could be a doctor and still be in our family. Kevin's mom's a lawyer and she's still part of their family.”

“That's different,” he responded through a throat tight with aching. He ached for his son, for himself. He ached because he didn't want Rachel to leave.

But she couldn't stay. He couldn't play second fiddle to her career, knowing one day she might decide she no longer wanted to do both. And he'd be the one she'd give up.

He laid Griff on his bed.

Griff settled himself back on the pillow. “Why's that different?”

Josh sighed. “Because it just is. Rachel lives in the big city. She'd never be content here.”

“Sure she would.”

“But that's not what I want,” Josh said harshly. He smoothed hair back from Griff's bruise, careful not to put pressure on the lump. “If I remarry, I want someone who would be content to be my wife and your mother.”

Griff stared at him for a long moment, then his little jaw set into a determined line. “When I get married, my wife can be anything she wants to be.”

Griff's simple, profound statement hit Josh hard, knocking the breath from his lungs.

He realized it wasn't about Rachel's career choice. It wouldn't have mattered if she'd become a dentist, a teacher or an accountant. As long as her career, her dream, was more important than his love, he couldn't risk his heart. He couldn't measure her commitment to him and he needed concrete assurance.

Josh gathered his son close to his chest. “I love you, Griff.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

He left Griff with the bedside lamp on and books to read.

Squaring his shoulders, Josh knew what he had to do. It was time to tell Rachel to leave. Not tomorrow, or the next day, but now. Her presence was too confusing, too painful. For both Griff and himself. He was tired of hurting, tired of feeling that ache take root in his soul.

The healing process would take time, but he would
heal. They would heal together, he and his son. They didn't need Rachel.

The thought left him feeling cold and empty, reassuring him that he was making the right choice. Because without Rachel in his life, he would be empty and cold.

He stepped into the kitchen to see Rachel holding the phone receiver to her ear. She had her back to him, with one finger she traced patterns in the woodwork on the wall.

“Yes, of course. I do realize the importance of my position and I'll be back to…I understand, Doctor. Yes, I will take care of the situation. A few days at the most.”

Josh didn't need any further confirmation that sending Rachel away now was the right thing to do. He and his son couldn't withstand the torture of having her around for a few more days.

 

A noise behind Rachel announced Josh's presence. She turned in time to see him stalking away. She finished her call and hung up.

With a sigh she leaned against the wall. The chief of staff of Cook County Hospital in Chicago wanted to know when she would be returning. She'd bought some time because she needed time to sort out the future, but she also knew she had a responsibility to the hospital. She would go back to resign and help make the transition easier for a new attending.

But right now finding Josh was more important.

She hesitated before stepping into the living room. She was in trouble. This confrontation had come faster than she had wanted or expected. But life always worked out the way it did for a reason. God was in
control and if His plan was for them to have this out now, she'd meet the challenge head-on. As always.

Logical and sound reasoning. Challenging questions. Unemotional. Those were the buzzwords that she had to remember. Now to keep her emotions in check and give Josh a rational argument for why they could work, why she could now stay in Sonora and be a doctor here. Why she could be his wife.

If only she had done some research by calling a female colleague and finding out how she managed to raise a family and be an effective doctor. No matter. She was going into this discussion armed with her love and force of will as her weapons. She had to convince Josh that she could be wife, mother
and
doctor.

Tread slowly.

A wild thought ran through her mind. She wanted to kiss him. Wanted to touch him, feel the connection to him she felt every time they touched. She shook her head. That approach wouldn't work. She almost giggled again, thinking how he'd reacted in the kitchen by the mere brushing of their hands. No, coming in with lips blazing wouldn't be the best way to start what was going to be a draining and lengthy discussion.

Drawing herself up and taking a fortifying breath, she sedately glided into the room and stopped at the end of the couch. Josh sat with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his big body taking up one end of the couch.

How to begin? “I think your son and your father have been doing a little matchmaking,” she stated quietly.

He laughed slightly. “You just now noticed?”

A wry smile touched her lips. “I suspected it. I suspected Rod and Mom G. were up to something, but I was surprised by Griff's manipulations. He's a smart boy.”

“Too smart for his own good.”

She wondered what they'd discussed when he'd carried Griff upstairs. “I hope you weren't too hard on him for trying to bring us together.”

He stared at her through hooded eyes. “I don't want him to get hurt,” he stated flatly.

“Then maybe we should discuss his suggestion.” Her voice sounded even, but inside she quivered with hope and dread. Hope that he'd want her love, dread that he wouldn't. Hope that they'd find a way to make them a family, dread that logic and reasoning wouldn't work.

He regarded her steadily. “Discuss?”

“Yes.” She sat on the couch, keeping a safe distance away. If she touched him, she wouldn't be able to keep her emotions from showing.

“All right. Let's discuss. What kind of game are you playing?” His voice was low and tinged with a sharp edge.

“There's no game.” She understood his confusion. Her own awakening needs and feelings bemused her.

“Rachel, you can't waltz into our lives, getting our hopes up when you have no intention of staying.”

The indefinable undertone to his words prepared her for battle. She jumped into the fray with both feet. “I could see myself staying here.”

A tawny brow rose. “Oh?”

“I mean…” What did she mean? How did she express the contentment she'd felt the past two days? How did she express the love expanding in her heart?
How did she stay unemotional when she wanted to throw herself in his arms and declare her love and ask him to love her back?

She drew herself up, collecting her composure. “I mean, I've enjoyed being here. I've enjoyed caring for your son.” She swallowed then went on steadily. “I've enjoyed caring for you.”

In the waning light of evening, his hazel eyes searched her face.

She rushed on. “Twelve years ago we were both young and we loved each other with an immature love. Neither of us was willing to compromise. We both dug in our heels and hurt each other.”

His expression intensified, laying claim to her heart. “We did hurt each other. And I'm sorry for that.”

“Me, too.” She clasped her hands together to keep from reaching out to him. “We're older now, more mature. We've had time to learn to compromise. We've had time to figure out what we want in life.”

She paused and drew strength from the conviction in her heart. “I know what I want in life, Josh. I want you.” She gestured with her hand, encompassing the house. “I want this. I love you, Josh. Do you think you could love me?”

T
he heat in his gaze threatened to scorch, to enflame Rachel beyond endurance.

“Loving you, Rachel, was never the problem.”

He loved her.
She couldn't breathe for the joy bubbling in her heart. She trembled with the effort to contain her emotion. “You're right, love wasn't the problem. It was us. We each had set ideas of how we wanted our lives. I needed to be a doctor.”

“And I've always wanted a wife who'd be passionate about me, about our life together.”

“You could have that, Josh. With me.”

“Could I?” His gaze narrowed and one corner of his mouth curved with cynicism. “What happened to ‘my career's my priority. God wants me to make a difference'?”

Being slapped with her own words popped her little bubbles of joy. “I do believe God wants me to make a difference and my career
has
been my priority.”

“So, you've had a miraculous change of heart?”

She stiffened.
Stay unemotional.
“In a way. God
has been working on me ever since I returned home.” If Josh heard the hitch in her voice as she said the last word he didn't indicate it. She swallowed, stunned to realize she was indeed home.

“Right. And how long will playing house be enough for you?”

“That's not fair, Josh.”

“No, it's not fair. Life's not fair. But then again God never promised life would be fair.”

The bitterness in his voice made her cringe. How could she get through to him? “These past few days here have made me realize that I've been too…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Obsessed?”

She frowned. “No. Focused.”

“And just where's the line, Rachel?”

“Line?”

“The line between doing God's will and obsession?”

She bit back her stirring anger. “I haven't been obsessed. I've been committed and focused.”

He stood and moved to the fireplace. For a long moment he stared into the empty grate. Finally he pivoted, his gaze riveting. “What drives you, Rachel?”

Her mother's lifeless body flashed across the screen in her mind. Gut-wrenching pain followed the image. Her instinctive reaction was to push the pain to the far corners of her soul, but the need to tell him stopped her.

Maybe if she spoke of her mother's death, he'd finally understand. Mustering every ounce of courage she possessed, she rose. “Do you really want to know?”

He folded his arms across his chest as if to protect himself from her. “Yes, I do.”

Rachel swallowed several times before she could find her voice. “I was six when my mother died.”

His expression softened. “I know. She died of a heart condition.”

“She did have a heart condition when she died, but that wasn't what killed her.”

“What do you mean?”

Rachel took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, careful to keep her voice unemotional. “She'd been under a doctor's care for a long time. Some days she was bedridden, other days she was like everyone else's mom. Normal.” She stared out the window, her gaze trained on the big oak tree with the swing. She remembered the heat of that summer's day and the fear. “Mom was having a good day. We'd been shopping for school clothes when she started having trouble breathing.”

Her chest grew heavy with remembered panic; she fought against letting the memory affect her. “We'd hurried from the store, our purchases forgotten. Mom drove, weaving all over the road and I was so scared we'd have an accident. We arrived at the hospital in one piece. The orderlies took her away. A nurse led me to a waiting area.” She closed her eyes, unsure if she could tell the rest.

Josh moved, his warm hand covered hers. “Rachel, if it's too painful you don't have to tell me.”

His compassion gave her the strength to continue. “I need to tell you.” She squeezed his hand. “To make you understand. I saw her, Josh. Lying on the table so still and pale. Machines screaming, the doc
tors frantic.” The horror of the day haunted her dreams.

“Her heart failed,” Josh stated, as if that explained everything.

“No,” she cried. “Her heart didn't just fail, the doctors failed.”

“Rachel, you of all people should know life's uncertain. Your mother had a bad heart and she died from it.”

She yanked her hand from his grip. She'd heard those words before. The doctors, the social workers, her shrink. Useless anger dripped from her words. “You sound like everyone else. My whole life people have tried to make me believe that lie, but I know what happened.”

“What did happen?”

She clenched her fists. Hating the anger and bitterness roaring to life again. “When the nurse wasn't looking, I went into the room. I saw them. I heard the doctor's words. He'd said, ‘This shouldn't have happened.'”

“What shouldn't have happened?”

Rachel drew herself up. “Whatever mistake cost my mother her life.”

“Do you have proof that they made a mistake?” he asked gently.

“I have my memory.” It was all the proof she needed.

Josh laid a hand on her arm. “The memory of a scared six-year-old.”

“Don't patronize me, Josh.”

“I'm not. It's sad to think you've carried this burden with you your whole life. Why didn't you ever tell me?”

Lifting one stiff shoulder was all she could manage. “I tried. Your knowing wouldn't have changed anything. I still would have left to become a doctor.”

“Yeah, but at least it wouldn't have hurt so bad.” His expression turned rife with contrition. “Maybe I would've…”

“Waited?” Tears of regret stung her eyes. “I'm sorry, Josh. I was young and focused on my goal. We can't torture ourselves with what ifs. All that matters now is the future. Our future. Do you understand now why I had to become a doctor? Why making a difference was so important? I wanted to save others from the pain and rage of knowing a mistake cost them the life of their loved one.”

“Yes, I understand.” He backed away, the physical distance not nearly as wide as the emotional distance he'd just created.

His glittering hazel eyes bore into her. “But you have to understand where
I'm
coming from, what
I
need. Apparently we both have mother issues. The day I watched my mother walk away from her family to pursue her dream, I swore I wouldn't settle for less than a woman who would put her family first.”

She closed her eyes, her heart screaming in agony over his loss. “You wouldn't have to settle for less, Josh. Not with me. Not ever. Don't you know that?”

“No. I don't.” His tone was as coarse as sandpaper. “I don't know that one day you won't decide you've made a mistake. Decide that life wasn't fulfilling enough here. That I wasn't enough.”

Her chest threatened to crack wide open. “That wouldn't happen.”

“Dad didn't think it would happen, either. He tried to keep her, promised her anything if she'd stay. But
she couldn't do both. She wanted her art more than she wanted us. She loved her art more than she loved her son.”

The hurt so evident in his eyes tore at her soul. She reached out a hand. “I'm sure that's not true.”

He jerked away. “Why weren't we enough for her?”

Behind the handsome exterior, she glimpsed the little boy who hurt with unspeakable torment. His mother's bitter betrayal had scarred the boy and the man. Her heart broke right down the middle, the two sides twisting in anguish. “I don't have an answer to that.”

His eyes closed as if the pain were too excruciating. “I don't want to be hurt again, and I don't want my son hurt. I can't have you in our lives if we aren't your priority.”

She stared up at him, tears filling her eyes. His words about Andrea came rushing back:
If I'd loved her enough. Been enough.
Josh took the weight of the world upon his broad shoulders, hefted the responsibility for other people like a heavy cloak. She'd thought he'd been wallowing in self-pity when he'd made that statement, but now she realized he owned the sentiment. “Not enough” was branded across his heart by his own hand.

He had no idea how much more than enough he was.
Dear Lord, I don't know how to reach him.

Digging deep for her last vestige of strength and courage to do the one thing she hated most, she laid her heart and her emotions bare, vulnerable and exposed, before this wonderful man whom she loved with every fiber of her being. “I am who I am, Josh. A woman who loves you, wants to be with you and
who's also a doctor. You can't ask me to give up a part of myself.

“God gave me a gift to heal people. I'm good at what I do. I find great satisfaction in my work. But I believe God has been trying to teach me that there can be more. If you take me, you take the whole package. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but if we work together, we can find a way. In time we'll both adjust.”

His expression was heartbreaking in its intensity. He seemed to consider her words; conflicting emotions played across the hard planes of his face. Finally he shook his head. “I can't, Rachel. I can't take the risk. I don't have it in me.”

Anguish, deep and exploding, nearly sent her to her knees. She gathered her control tightly, taking the composure that had served her so well over the years and wrapping it around her like cocoon. “A wise woman once told me that happiness lies beyond what you think's possible. You only have to have enough faith. God will take care of the rest.”

A spasm of regret crossed his face. “I have plenty of faith in God. It's me I don't have faith in.”

“Oh, Josh.”

He stepped back, away from her outstretched hand. “It won't work, Rachel. I don't ever want to feel that way again.”

Her hand dropped to her side. A spurt of anger gripped her. “So you'd rather be alone than take a chance on me?”

“That's the way it has to be. It would be best if you left as soon as you can.” He walked past her and out the front door.

A scream of soul-searing pain tore at Rachel's in
sides as she watched him disappear into the night. Her legs could no longer hold her upright; she slowly sank to the floor.

Raw and bleeding inside, Rachel fought against despair. They would never find a way together if he wasn't willing to fight for it.

God, tell me what to do.

How could Josh think he wasn't enough? Enough for what? Her? Did he not trust her that much? Her mouth twisted wryly.
What have I done to earn that trust? Except lay my love down like a gauntlet, daring him to pick it up.

Loving you, Rachel, was never the problem.

A spark of hope leapt to life. He loved her, even if he didn't want to admit it. He just didn't trust her not to break his heart.

His mother's betrayal had damaged Josh's perceptions and his ability to trust with faith. What could she do to rebuild that trust? To build his faith in her?

The answer that roared to her mind sent her doubling over. She couldn't defame her mother's memory; she couldn't give up medicine. Being a doctor defined her, made her who she was. If she walked away from that, what would be left?

Josh's wife.

A woman of faith.

Lord, what do I do? I thought You were giving us a second chance.

Understanding flooded her mind and a gentle peace settled over her.

“I do trust you, Lord.” She spoke softly, reverently. “I want both. But if I have to choose, this time I choose Josh.”

 

Josh stared at the moon's reflection wavering in the pool's water. He felt like such a fool. Rachel had offered him his heart's desire—her love—and he'd walked away. He loved her and she loved him. Why couldn't that be enough?

Because deep inside, fear laid claim to his heart.

Fear that his love wouldn't be enough. Fear that Rachel would one day walk away like his mother had. Fear that he couldn't survive her departure from his life.

Father, why am I so consumed with fear?

He closed his eyes with weary pain. Fear wasn't of God. God was love and light and hope. And yet, fear twisted in his heart.

Rachel's words floated back to him on the evening breeze.

A wise woman once told me that happiness lies beyond what you think's possible. You only have to have enough faith. God will take care of the rest.

Faith. It all came down to faith. Faith in God, faith in himself and faith in Rachel.

Faith's being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

“God, forgive me for not having enough faith in You. Please, Lord, take my fear.” He whispered his plea to the night sky.

“Josh?” Rachel approached and stopped beside him.

He stiffened, bracing himself for her goodbye. He didn't want her to say goodbye. But he wasn't free of the fear. A touch, like the delicate kiss of a snowflake on his arm, drew his attention.

“Are you okay?”

Rachel's sweet voice, so full of concern, wrapped
around him. He tried to speak, to say he wasn't okay, he'd never be okay without her, but the constriction of his throat muscles wouldn't allow sound to travel from his body.

She withdrew her hand. “I'm not going to let you do this,” she said. Her voice now held an edge of steel.

He looked at her. In the moonlight shining on her beautiful face he could see traces of her tears. Tenderness filled him, crowding the fear until he thought he'd choke on it. She'd cried because of him. He didn't want to make her cry, didn't want to hurt her. He loved her.

Her voice softened. “You're so full of anger and hurt. I can understand why you're afraid to trust me, to trust anyone. What your mother did was wrong. She shouldn't have abandoned you. But she made a choice and you have to live with the result of that choice.