The Breaking Point (34 page)

“Bo, hold it!”

“Wait!”

The husky did neither. He coiled and vaulted the river, clearing it, as Gabe had predicted, with far greater ease than either of them. The dog bounded over to them, then wriggled his delight at being reunited. Gabe’s laughter only deepened when Bo’s nose suddenly fastened to his shirt pocket.

Pushing the dog aside, he fished out the treat and handed it over. “You deserve it, buddy. That was a great jump.”

Renee stood, brushing snow from her clothes, and picked up her pack. “So … onward and upward?”

Gabe rose as well, lifting his pack back onto his shoulders. “Forward, into the fray.”

Renee fell into step beside him, her chuckle deep and warm. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Renee walked beside Gabe, unable to keep the smile from her features.

No one could make her laugh like he did. No one could make her feel more secure and protected.

And no one could hurt her more or drive her crazy faster.

If only they spent more time enjoying each other, like they’d done at the creek. Moments like that both gave her hope and filled her with despair. She knew they loved each other, knew they even liked each other most of the time.

If only she could figure out what it was that kept them from resting in that love, in being at peace with one another.
“There’s only one person you can change, Renee …”

Grace’s words echoed through her as they’d done many times over the last few years.
Okay Lord. Okay.

Renee gripped the straps of her pack and shifted it into a more comfortable position. She’d tried packing and repacking it over the years in an effort to make it lighter, easier to carry, but it never worked. No matter what she did, the pack always ended up being too heavy.

Sometimes she thought the only way she would ever be
able to walk without being weighed down was if she didn’t carry a pack at all. She lifted her foot to step over a fallen branch, then paused. No pack at all …

She lowered her foot to the snow, her hands tightening on the straps of her pack. Then she looked at the ground.

A sudden memory of Gabe’s words at the creek flowed into her mind.
Stuff on your back, weighing you down … fall forward… toward me …

Then her own thoughts echoed again:
The only way to walk without being weighed down is if I don’t carry a pack at all—

“You okay, Ren?”

She looked up. Gabe was standing just ahead of her, waiting for her. “You want me to carry your pack for a while?”

Renee’s mouth fell open.
Okay God, okay I get it.
“Um, no. I’m okay.” She hiked the pack up on her shoulders. “I just needed to make some adjustments.”

His quizzical stare followed her as she joined him, but she didn’t explain. She just fell into step beside him.

So show me what I’m holding on to, Lord. What’s weighing me down? Because I’ll tell You what
—she matched her steps to Gabe’s, focused on the sound of the snow scrunching beneath their feet—
I’m tired of hauling it around.

“Bo, will you knock it
off?”

Gabe gave a hard yank on the rope, but it didn’t help. Bo continued his side-stepping dance, weaving around his feet and whining like a two-year-old at Toys “R” Us.

“What on earth is wrong with him?”

Gabe looked at Renee and saw the frustration he was feeling reflected in her features. The dog had started acting weird about twenty minutes ago, and he was still at it. “Beats me. But if he wraps that rope around me and I fall—”

Renee didn’t wait for him to finish his gritted comment.
She came to take hold of the dog’s collar, disentangling him from Gabe’s legs. “What’s up, boy? You still worried about Gabe falling?” She scratched his ears and neck, which usually soothed him, but Bo wasn’t having any of it. He whined again and backed away from her, eyes wide.

Even as Renee cast him a worried glance, Gabe’s own frustration shifted to concern.

“Gabe—” Renee’s voice trembled—“maybe he was hurt in the crash. Internally. And it’s just now showing up?”

He studied the husky, taking in the ears flattened to his head, the pacing, the quick glances around them.

No, Bo wasn’t hurt.

He was scared.

Gabe followed the dog’s darting gaze. What was that in the snow? Sudden understanding dawned, and the hair at the back of his neck rose as he went to study the indentations in the snow in front of them—indentations that went exactly where he and Renee and Bo were heading.

Tracks. Cougar tracks, from the look of them. And Gabe was willing to bet they were fresh.

“Are those what I think they are?”

He looked to find Renee peering over his shoulder. He stood, nodding.

“Cougar?”

He nodded again. “No wonder Bo’s been so antsy. He probably caught the cat’s scent, and there’s nothing like a whiff of a cougar to make other animals go nuts.”

Renee was staring at the tracks as they disappeared into the woods in front of them. “He’s going our way, isn’t he?”

Gabe sighed. “Looks like it.”

Renee pursed her lips. “Do we have to go that way?”

He shook his head. “I can’t say for sure, but I think it’s the most direct route. And if the weather’s any indication, tonight will he even colder than last night.”

“So we need the most direct route possible.”

He looked up at the sky. “At least we’re upwind of him. But if the wind shifts …”

Renee didn’t hesitate. “We’ll just have to pray it doesn’t.”

Gabe glanced down at Bo, trembling at his side. “Do me a favor and request a supernatural doggie downer while you’re at it.”

A smile eased the tension from Renee’s eyes. “You got it.” She took his hands, and they bowed their heads, but Gabe kept his eyes open, fixed on the tracks and the woods.

Just in case.

Because if there was more waiting for them than the river, he wanted to know as soon as possible.

J
UNE
30, 1992

GRACE CAME INTO THE BEDROOM AND FOUND OREN
still awake, waiting for her.

“Is Renee settled in her room?”

“Yes.” She sat on the edge of their bed, then took her Bible from the bedside table and let it fall open. She read the words from 1 Corinthians, words she knew so well: “When you put a seed into the ground, it doesn’t grow … unless it dies first.”

Oren watched her in silence, waiting. How she loved that about him. That he didn’t feel the need to push. Oh, how far they’d come.

She looked up from her Bible. She knew what she needed to do. “I want to tell her about us, Oren.”

He nodded without hesitation. “I think we should. But I also think we need to pray about it. To ask God how we should do
that. And when.” He slipped from beneath the covers and sat beside her. “Grace, Renee and Gabe are at a crossroads, and not just in their marriage.”

She knew he was right—because he spoke from experience. Their experience. She spread her fingers over the open pages of her Bible.

Unless a seed dies …

She knew this death. Knew it well. Knew the pain and fear, knew the cost of surrendering self and rights and taking on Christ instead. “It’s not going to be easy. For either of them.”

“No.” There was a sweetness, an encouragement in Oren’s expression that never failed to move her. “But it will be worth it.” He squeezed her hand. “And we’ll help them, as much as God lets us.”

Grace hugged him. “I love you, Oren.”

“I love you, Gracie. Always and forever.”

Amen. She followed his lead and bowed her head.
Amen and amen.

Renee couldn’t believe she’d been at Oren and Grace’s for so long. At first all she could do was weep, and they let her. Sat with her. Prayed with her. Finally, as the three of them sat together in the living room, she started talking, and her struggles with Gabe came pouring out. The distrust, the anger. Finally, “We can’t even talk for more than two minutes without ending up in a fight. It’s like we hate each other.”

Oren and Grace exchanged a look. “Or like you hate yourselves. And who you’ve become together.”

Renee considered Grace’s comment. “Yes, that’s it. I can’t stand who I am with him. But—” she choked on the truth she was about to share—“I don’t know who I am without him. I’ve changed. Everything I think and do is centered on him, but not in a good way. It’s as though I’m living my whole life
with the sole purpose of not needing him, not trusting him.” Shame warmed her cheeks even as it chilled her spirit. “I’ve closed him out of my heart, but I’ve welcomed in hatred. For him. For myself.”

“For God?”

The quiet words struck home, and she lowered her head. “Sometimes.” She held her hands out. “But He could
change
all this if He wanted to!”

Tears silenced her for a moment and she looked away. “You know, when I was a little girl, I didn’t care about a career, about having lots of friends. All I ever wanted was a marriage like my parents had. A marriage full of love and laughter.” She turned back to study the two who sat there, listening with such acceptance. “And now … now I have this great career, and wonderful friends—better friends than I deserve. And a marriage that’s a nightmare.”

She tugged the afghan over her lap, wrapping herself in its softness, its warmth … wishing it could somehow remove the chill that seemed to dwell deep in her bones.

Would she ever feel warm again?

Oren watched her for a moment, then patted Grace’s hand. “I think I’m going to leave you two women to talk.”

Renee started to shake her head. “You don’t have to leave, Oren.”

He came to sit on the couch with her. “It’s okay, Renee. I have some things I need to do. But first I have something for you.”

She took the wrapped package he handed her. “What …?” “Actually, it’s from both Gracie and me.” He smiled at his wife.

“You said you longed for a relationship like ours?” The older woman nodded toward the package in Renee’s hands. “Then you’ll want to read that—but not until you’re ready.”

Renee must have shown her confusion, because Grace smiled. A tender, understanding smile. “It’s just a book, and
it’s not so very long. But when the time is right, I think it will help you.”

Grace and Oren shared a smile, and then Grace turned back to Renee. “It will help you understand what having a relationship like ours really means.”

Renee looked down at the package. “But how will I know when I’m ready?”

Grace’s reply was simple. “Trust God to show you when the time is right.”

Oren halted whatever other questions Renee was about to ask when he patted her hand. Then he rose. “Okay, then, I’m off.”

Renee watched him leave the room, the gift pressed against her chest, and swallowed the tears that threatened to overtake her. She was so tired of crying. You’d think that with all the crying she’d done, she’d be bone-dry. But no, there always seemed to be more tears.

She focused on the dancing flames in the stone fireplace. How she loved watching the shadows those flames threw on the rich wooden walls. How she loved everything about this room. It smelled of cedar and wood smoke and pine …

It reminded her of her childhood. Of the Oregon woods and camping and nights full of sweet laughter.

“Can’t get the thoughts to stop?”

Renee angled a smile at Grace. Leave it to her to understand. “No.”

Grace leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the cushion, closing her eyes. “Maybe that’s the problem.” Renee frowned. “What is?”

“Maybe you’re trying too hard. Sometimes it’s better to just … rest. To not try anything, but to just be.”

“Be.” Renee pushed at the bottom of the afghan with her foot, pressing the covering between the plush couch cushions.
Just be?
What on earth did
that
mean?

Grace’s deep chuckle told Renee her confusion was showing.
She gave her a smile that she knew was decidedly sheepish. “Okay Miss Know-Everything, how exactly am I supposed to do that?”