Love Comes Home (8 page)

One corner of Josh's mouth tipped up as if he knew how he was affecting her. Disconcerted, she turned her focus to the closet. She touched each garment and Mom G.'s scent wafted up from the clothes, tugging at Rachel, making her ache.

“What's that?”

She wiped away a tear before facing Josh. “What?”

He tilted his head upward. “There.”

She followed his gaze. A white box on the top shelf of the closet bore her name. She glanced at him. “Would you mind?”

Josh squeezed beside her, eating up space, and Rachel stepped back, nearly falling into the clothes piled on the floor. He reached out to steady her, his huge, strong hand closing around her forearm, sending hot sparks shooting up her arm.

“Thanks.” She extracted herself from his grip and moved a safe distance way. Josh's proximity and his touch did funny things to her insides and she didn't want funny things going on inside. It made staying focused difficult.

He easily retrieved the box. “The living room?”

“Please.” She headed down the hall. Josh set the box on the coffee table. She opened the lid and widened her eyes in pleasure. A tattered teddy bear lay on top of a scrapbook.

“Yours?”

“Yes.” She picked up the bear and ran a hand over it. “My mother gave him to me before she died. I'd thought I'd lost him. Mom G. must have packed him up to preserve him.” A lump rose in her throat. She held the bear close to ease the tightness in her chest.

Setting the bear aside, she picked up the scrapbook and laid it on the table. She sat on the sofa and flipped through the pages. Josh took the seat beside her, distracting her.

“Mrs. G. put effort into this,” he remarked.

“It's wonderful.” She couldn't believe how much she enjoyed looking at the pictures and the little anecdotes written beside the frames. The book chronicled her life with Mom G., starting with the first day she'd arrived to the last picture Rachel had sent. On the last line in the book Mom G. had written, “The rest of the book is for you to fill with pictures of your family.”

Rachel stared at the words. Mom G. was her family. Without her, Rachel was alone.

As if he'd heard her thoughts, Josh asked softly, “Are those pages going to be filled, Rachel? Do you have someone waiting for you in Chicago?”

She slanted him a glance, aware of the anger stirring in her chest. Anger because he had no right to ask her that, anger because the answer was no.

“What do you think? No, wait.” She held up a hand before he could respond. “What was it you said? ‘No man would want to marry a woman whose priority in life was her career.' My priority is my career.”

His words still haunted her. Every time a man had shown interest in her, she'd remember those words, remembered the pain of loving only to have to make a choice between the man and her God-given path. And her choice would always be the same.

Her life was about making a difference, about being a doctor.

“Rachel, I'm—”

“You're what? Sorry?” Rachel scoffed, her strength rapidly depleting. “Don't be. You were right. I wouldn't have accomplished what I have if I'd married or stayed in this town.” She couldn't stand the pity in his eyes but hated even more that she'd validated his position on her career.

She closed the book.

Josh tipped the box forward. “There's something else in here.”

She watched as he pulled a large manila envelope from the box and handed it to her. Anxious to get through this, she broke the seal and grabbed an official-looking file. Her name stared at her from the tab.

Ignoring the prickling awareness of Josh's gaze, she flipped open the file. The contents marked her progress through the Department of Child Services, starting with the day she became a ward of the state and continued on, noting every foster home with com
ments by the foster parents. She quickly read and absorbed the words. For out of the five homes she'd lived in, the comments were nearly the same:
“The child cooperates well, is very quiet and insecure.”

Rachel's mouth twisted. More like scared to death.

Mom G.'s name appeared as the last foster home. The remarks made by Mom G. touched Rachel deeply. To Mom G. she wasn't “the child,” she was Rachel. A little girl who needed love and affection.

With a snap, she closed the file. She wasn't a little girl anymore, but a grown woman who just lost the last bit of family she'd ever known.

The hospital. The people there would be her family now. Her focus would be entirely on the patients, and their care, with no distractions.

Impatiently she dumped out the rest of the manila envelope. A hospital bracelet with her mother's name and the blue and white insignia of Sonora Community Hospital, a birth certificate and a small grouping of photos fell out.

Her breath caught in her throat. With shaky hands, she reached for the top snapshot. The woman in the picture had curly hair, which framed her face, and blue eyes sparkling with intelligence.

“Is this your mother?”

She nodded, afraid that if she spoke he'd hear her anguish. She had one picture of her mother that the social worker had given to her. It sat on her bedside table in a crystal frame.

“You look like her.”

The compliment nearly shattered her composure.

Gathering every vestige of her control, she spread the rest of the photos out on the table. Five in all.
“I've never seen these. I wonder why Mom G. never gave them to me.”

“Maybe she thought they'd make you sad.”

In one frame, her mother stood on a beach staring out at the waves, her expression pensive. In another, her mother held a tiny baby wrapped in a pink blanket. The next was a park setting. A two-year-old Rachel sat on a swing, her mother behind her, joyous smiles on both of their faces. The last photo was of her mother, dressed up and looking like a princess.

“I wonder if my father took these?” Everything hurt inside and she willed the pain away.

Josh took her hand. His fingers wrapped around hers, anchoring her as the tide of grief began to rise within her.

“I don't even know who he was, Josh. What he'd been like. Why he'd left.”

“I didn't know,” he responded softly. “You'd said he was gone. I'd assumed he was dead.”

“He was gone before I was born.” She picked up the birth certificate. Her own. She pointed to the line where her father's name should have been. “‘Unknown'?” Her voice rose, betraying the anguish building in her chest.

At sixteen she'd needed her birth certificate for her driver's license. Any hopes or plans she had of seeking her father out died when she'd seen that one word. “I can't accept he was some stranger my mother hadn't loved. Some one-night-stand type of deal.”

“Maybe he hadn't known she was pregnant when they broke up.”

Josh's compassionate reasoning left her with more questions. “Were they even married? Or just dating? Did they fight? Is that why she didn't want him to be
a part of my life?” She suppressed a shuddering breath. “I'll never know. The answers died with her.”

Rachel's heart throbbed with longing. She had spent such a short part of her life with the woman in the photos. “I don't even know what she was like. What had been her dreams, her struggles? There's no one for me to ask. She hadn't had any family that I could find.”

A tear slipped down her cheek and landed on the corner of one picture. The wetness distorted the film, like the tears in her eyes distorted her vision. Josh's arm came around her shoulders and a distressed moan escaped her lips.

Rachel didn't want him to witness her private breakdown. She didn't want to need his strength, his warmth. She tried to pull away but he wouldn't let go. His grip tightened and he eased her back against his solid chest. She resisted by leaning away from him.

“Rachel,” he coaxed, his voice tender, caressing.

Everything inside screamed for her to protest, to run and seek solitude for her grief. She didn't need anyone. Yet his steadfast, comforting presence beckoned to her. She sniffed and shuddered as she tried to keep control of the tears.

When he turned her around, she dropped her gaze to the front of his shirt. She couldn't look into that handsome face and see the sympathy in his eyes. His hand reached out and gently lifted her chin. She almost died to see the tender caring in his hazel eyes. Everything inside melted liked chocolate over an open flame.

“It's okay to cry, Rachel.”

His compassionate words brought fresh tears. “No. I'm not crying,” she sniffed.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered softly as he pulled her to him. “You have to let it out or it will eat away at you.”

Rachel held herself stiff against his chest, but as his hand caressed her hair, and his heart beat a steady cadence against her cheek, her staid control slipped away. She wrapped her arms around him and a tremor worked its way through her body and a deep sob broke free.

She cried for the two mothers she'd lost.

As her sobs receded and the tears dried, she became acutely aware of Josh's arms holding her tight. The once-familiar pressure of his embrace made her snuggle closer. His woodsy, clean scent filled her senses. She clung to him.

She should let go. She should find her composure and graciously extract herself from his embrace. But she didn't want to, couldn't because of an inner need beyond her stalwart control.

R
achel eased back and looked up at him. He stared down at her with careful regard. How could he look at her with such tenderness when the heat in his eyes threatened to singe?

Her clinical mind registered that focusing on Josh kept her from dwelling on her mother's life so tragically cut short. Focusing on Josh kept the overwhelming grief of Mom G.'s death from engulfing her. Focusing on Josh made her heart pound and her limbs tingle with anticipation. Anticipation for what she didn't know. It went beyond the physical, to a heart-rending level. And it scared her.

She hated being scared.

In defense, her mind focused on the obvious—the awareness that overtook her every time he was near. As foolish as it was, she wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him as an adult, as a woman.

Before her brain could protest, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his.

An electric jolt sizzled between them.

Josh flinched.

Rachel tightened her hold around his waist and continued the kiss. Slowly, gently, he responded. His lips moved over hers with drugging intensity and she realized immediately she'd made a mistake.

Kissing him was far more potent than she'd imagined. She wouldn't just be burned, she'd turn to ash.

As Josh broke the kiss with a tortured sound, rejection settled at the bottom of Rachel's heart like a rock in a pool. Of course he didn't want her. He never really had.

She pulled away from him and took a deep breath, collecting herself. “I'm sorry. That was totally inappropriate.”

His jaw clenched. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I—to distract myself from the pain,” she admitted and wiped at her damp cheeks.

His guarded expression ripped at her insides.

She quickly gathered the photos and slid them back into the envelope.

A gigantic boulder lodged itself in the middle of Josh's chest as he watched Rachel. Taut lines of anxiety tightened around her mouth. Her struggle to maintain control was painful to watch. He hurt for her, could only imagine the depth of torment she carried. He'd never realized how devastating her mother's death had been to her. And to find out she didn't know her father's name—it blew his mind. His own mother had abandoned them, but at least at one time he had belonged to her. Rachel didn't even have that. His heart twisted with sympathy and a protectiveness surged through him. Mrs. G. had fulfilled the roles of both mother and father for Rachel, but now
she was gone. It was up to him to be there for Rachel. If she'd let him.

She'd already expressed that she didn't want his comfort and he'd tried to give her space. But when she'd cried, his promise came slamming back to him. Mrs. G. had known what they'd find. That was why she'd insisted on their promise. He was honor-bound to offer his comfort and protection regardless of the cost to himself.

And cost him it did.

In the past few hours he'd glimpsed another facet of Rachel. She was a woman of strong opinions and tastes. Funny and charming when the wall of ice was down. So in need of care and compassion.

Then to hold her, to feel the luxury of her arms wrapped around his waist, had made his soul ache with longing for what might have been. For what would never be.

He sternly reminded himself that he wasn't enough for this woman. What he had to offer hadn't been enough twelve years ago and it wouldn't be enough now.

Her career was on the fast track. Onward and upward. She'd made it clear her life held no room for marriage, no room for commitment. Her career was her priority. That seemed such a joyless and lonely existence.

But when she'd kissed him and he'd felt the splendid caress of her lips against his own, he'd known that keeping his heart safe from Rachel while trying to be there for her was going to take every ounce of strength he could muster, and then some. He sorely wished he could find strength in God, but he'd lost the right to ask for God's help.

So instead he decided to take the high road. “It's late.”

Rachel replaced the lid to the box. “Yes. It's been a long day.”

Josh stood. “You should get some rest.”

A little crease appeared between her blue eyes. A wry chuckle escaped. “I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight.”

“Do you want to take the box back to the hotel with you?”

She chewed her bottom lip and stared at the box. Tears glistened in her eyes, making the blue brighter. She didn't answer. He couldn't stand to see her in such pain.

He reached for her, pulling her in again to the shelter of his arms. She wasn't nearly as resistant, and his blood surged at how right it felt to hold her close. “Leave the box. It'll be here tomorrow.”

She nodded and allowed him to lead her to his truck. They drove to the hotel in silence. He felt protective of her and didn't like the idea of her alone with only her memories for company. “I'll stay. I can sleep on the floor.”

Her gaze jumped to his. “No. That won't be necessary.”

“Maybe not necessary, but the right thing to do.” And the hardest thing.

She gave him a small, gentle smile. “I always liked that about you.”

“What?”

She touched her hand to his jaw, the touch feather light yet searing. “Your sense of honor.”

His chest swelled from her compliment. “I try.”

She cleared her throat. “You should go home.”

She was right, because staying might lead to someplace neither one wanted to go. “You sure you'll be okay?”

She shrugged. “It's better this way. I really did appreciate your help tonight. I'm glad you insisted.”

“Just keeping my promise,” he said evenly, but deep down a voice whispered it was so much more than that.

Her mouth twisted. “Well, it's still appreciated.” She pushed open the door of her unit. “Good night.”

He stepped back. “I'll have Dad check in on you tomorrow.”

Rachel hated the little spurt of hurt his words caused. A foolish part of her wanted him to check on her. “Fine. Great.”

He touched her cheek, the slight pressure like a brand against her skin. She swallowed and forced herself not to lean into his touch.

“Call if you need anything.”

She lifted her chin. “Of course.”

His hand dropped away. “Good night, then.”

And he walked away.

Rachel couldn't bear to watch his departure. She closed the door and slowly sank to her knees. She heard the roar of an engine turning over then the spray of gravel as he left the parking lot and drove away.

She hadn't felt this bereft since the day she'd learned he'd married Andrea. Mistakenly she'd thought focusing on her career had plugged the hole in her heart where her love for him had lived. But now she was left with a gaping abyss she didn't know how to heal.

And even if by some miracle she and Josh could find their way back to each other, she couldn't give
up on the quest that had consumed her all her life, the task God had entrusted her with—to change the way things were done in the E.R. so that patients weren't needlessly lost.

And she couldn't do that in Sonora. She couldn't go into the E.R. where her mother had died. Not even God would ask that of her.

A line of Scripture came to mind and she clung to the promise in the simple words.

He heals the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds.

Peace and comfort would be hers, for God so promised. Her wounds would heal and she would return to her life, accepting the past and looking only to the future.

Without Josh.

 

The jingle of the phone roused Rachel from a fitful slumber. She opened eyes, gritty from crying herself to sleep, and glanced at the clock. Who would call at seven in the morning? Flipping to her back, she stared at the ceiling. Her body felt bruised, her eyes scratchy and she felt totally drained.

The phone jingled again. Rachel threw an irritated glance at the instrument sitting on the bedside table.

Even as depleted as her body and her emotions were, the steps of mourning that she'd gone through last night were necessary. She wasn't so presumptuous as to think she'd made it through the whole gamut of emotions that the grieving process produced, but her soul felt cleansed. She was ready to move on with her life. There were a few loose ends that needed her attention; then she could leave. Closure. Isn't that what they called it?

“You better not be bearing bad news,” she muttered to the ringing phone, and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Is that you, Rachel?” a hesitant young boy's voice asked.

All irritation fled. “Yes. Griff, is that you?”

“It's me.” His youthful exuberance returned full force into his voice. “Did I wake you?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she answered on a yawn, and relaxed back on the pillow.

“Sorry, but I wanted to see if you'd go to Columbia with me today.”

“Columbia?” The historic state park on the outskirts of Sonora was one of the finest restored mining towns in the county. She'd spent many weekends exploring the town. Once, in high school, her government class had held a mock trial in the old justice building. She'd been one of twelve students who sat in the old wooden chairs as jurors.

“Yeah, we could go gold-panning. Dad has to work and Grandpa doesn't want to go.”

“Well…” she hedged. She'd love to spend time with Griff. She didn't have to be anywhere until later in the afternoon, when she signed the necessary paperwork to sell the house. She did have to call the shippers and Goodwill to arrange for the various boxes to be taken care of, but that wouldn't take long. And she loved to gold-pan. She and Josh had spent many hours at the task when they'd been younger.

“Will you go? Huh?” Griff's eager voice snagged her attention.

“Your dad's at work?”

“Yep, and summer vacation started yesterday.
Grandpa has business in town and he said we could pick you up then he'd drop us off in Columbia.”

It would be nice to see Rod again before she left. With Josh at work all day there wouldn't be any surprise meetings.

“I have to get up and dressed, then make a few phone calls.”

“So you'll come with me?”

She laughed. “Yes. I'll go gold panning with you.”

“Yahoo!”

Rachel held the phone away from her ear and grinned. Her mood lightened as energy seeped back into her body. Spending the day with Griff would make a good memory to take with her when she returned to Chicago.

 

“You sure you won't join us?”

“No, no. I gave up my gold-panning days long ago. But I sure appreciate you taking Griff. He's been wanting to do this for some time.” Rod's gold-specked eyes sparkled with life. Even in his sixties he was a good-looking man with his thick graying hair and ready grin.

Rachel smiled. “It's really great to see you.”

Rod reached out and patted her arm. “Now, don't you worry none. We'll spend some time together before you head back to your big-city life.”

The way he said it, her life in Chicago sounded glamorous. Too bad there wasn't anyone there waiting to spend time with her. A familiar sense of loneliness gnawed at the edges of her mind.

A warm smile creased Rod's weathered face. No one smiled at her with real affection in the big city.

“I'll be back in time to get you to your appointment. Don't you worry about that,” he said.

“I'm not.” She turned to Griff. “All set to hit the gold?”

Griff scrambled out of the car in answer. He looked adorable in his loose, navy cotton athletic shorts and yellow-and-red striped shirt. By the size of his once-white sneakers, Rachel knew he'd grow tall like his father. Her heart pinched a little every time she looked at Griff. He resembled his father so much.

She turned back to Rod. “What will you do with yourself now?”

“I'm meeting with Pastor Larkin today about some renovations the church council wants done to the building.”

“Tell him hello for me. And thanks for driving.”

“No problem. You guys have fun and I'll see you in a few hours.”

Rachel slid from the car and watched Rod drive away, his old white Buick ambling down the road. Tenderness filled her. For the first time she acknowledged to herself that she'd missed out by not having a father figure in her life. Rod was as close as she'd ever come and she loved him for that.

Griff danced from one foot to the other with anticipation, drawing her attention. “Let's go.” His eyes widened and he pointed. “There's the stagecoach. Can we take a ride on that, too?”

The jangle of the harnesses on two big chestnut horses and the crunching of large wooden wheels over the loose dirt road heralded the coach's arrival.

Catching the boy's enthusiasm, she laughed. “We can do anything your little heart desires.”

“Yahoo!” He tugged her along eagerly.

Rachel was glad she'd worn her running shoes. She'd forgotten that the streets were unpaved, and dust clung to her feet. And she had a feeling Griff intended to run her feet off. She couldn't think of a better exercise. The wooden sidewalks creaked as they stepped up onto the planks and headed to the stagecoach office.

Rachel paid for their tickets and they walked back outside to wait for the stage.

“I'm so excited,” Griff whispered, loud enough that several people smiled.

In a stage whisper, Rachel replied, “Me, too.”

The coach arrived and let off its passengers. Rachel and Griff climbed aboard. Griff scrambled to sit by the window and Rachel took the seat next to him. Soon the coach was filled and they were off. A speaker in the side of the rig showed the only sign of modernization.

The driver's voice filled the stage.

“Welcome to Columbia State Park. In 1850 gold was discovered and the mining town exploded with activity.”

Rachel's mind wandered as she watched Griff, excitement danced in his eyes as he pointed out the window at various passing interests. She hadn't thought much about having kids of her own, not after Josh had married Andrea. Having a family had been relegated to “someday.” “Someday” had always seemed far away, though looking at Griff she couldn't stop the maternal stirring in her spirit. She would have liked to have seen Griff as an infant, a toddler and a preschooler. To watch him discover the world and to teach him all the wonders of life.