The Forgiving Hour (39 page)

“I didn’t mean from me.”

The words stung her heart … because they were true. She
was
running, and they both knew from whom.

A strangled sob was wrenched from her throat. A moment later, she felt Kevin’s hands turning her toward him. Then she was gathered into his arms, her face pressed against his chest. She hadn’t cried since this nightmare began. She’d been afraid to, afraid that if she got started she might not ever stop. It was easier to hate and rage than to crumble into helplessness.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Kevin stroked her hair. “Many are the afflictions of the righteous; but the Lord delivers him out of them all.”

How can He deliver me from this? It’s real. He can’t change the past, and neither can I.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit.” His voice was soft, soothing. “A broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.”

I’m broken. God, I’m so broken.
Tears coursed down her cheeks, dampening Kevin’s shirt.

“Cast your burden upon the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.”

But I’m not righteous. I’m angry and resentful and filled with hate. And I
am
shaken. I’ve been shaken to pieces. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear it.

His arms tightened, and he pressed his cheek against the side of her head. “He hasn’t forsaken you. No matter what’s happening, you aren’t alone.”

“If you knew what has happened … It’s so hard. It’s
too
hard.”

“Life is often hard, dear one, but God is always good.”

“I thought I was supposed to be happy for the rest of my life.” She drew back slightly, enough to look into his eyes. “What about
that
promise?”

He shook his head, his gaze filled with infinite patience. “God didn’t promise you happiness, Claire. He promised you joy and peace. They’re something different altogether.”

She frowned. “Well, I don’t feel joy or peace either.” She lowered her chin toward her chest and closed her eyes, fighting another flood of tears.

He cupped her chin with his hand and gently forced her to look at him again. “Whatever is going on, you’re not going through it alone. God’s here.” He paused, then added, “And so am I.”

FORTY

With her family gathered around her — like a warrior’s shield in battle — and her mother holding on to her arm, Sara entered the church narthex on Sunday morning.

She’d told her family nothing except that the wedding was off. She could do nothing to reassure her parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law. She had no intention of telling them the reasons why she’d given Dakota back his ring. All she could do was maintain a stoic silence.

She made certain not to look around her as they headed toward the sanctuary. Instead, she kept her gaze trained directly in front of her, fastened on her father’s back.

But she didn’t have to see Dakota to know he was there. She recognized his voice, despite the din of myriad conversations. A sixth sense told her the precise moment he noticed her. Kristina’s grip tightened an instant before Sara heard Dakota speak her name from only a short distance away.

Unable to stop herself, she glanced up. He was standing next to Tim, ignoring the glowering look her eldest brother was giving him. She recognized the pain in his eyes, for it was like looking into her own heart. And yet there was something else in them as well. Something she couldn’t describe. Something … peaceful.

He took a step closer. “Sara, may I talk to you? Privately?”

Frantic, she turned toward her mother and gave a quick shake of her head.

“Not now, Dakota,” Kristina answered for her. “Perhaps later.”

“All right. But I want you to know something, Sara. I love you. That hasn’t changed. Do you understand?”

Her throat was constricting. Her chest was about to collapse.

“No matter what you decide to do, I’ll go on loving you.”

She saw the questions swirling in her mother’s eyes, questions she didn’t want to answer. Because in answering them, she would have to confess to her parents what she’d done, and she couldn’t bear to do that. How many people did she have to hurt before this was done? Weren’t Dakota and Claire enough? Did she have to cause her parents pain as well?

I should have stayed home. I shouldn’t have come.

But I called you here, beloved.

A shiver ran through her.

Kristina must have felt it, for she put her other arm around Sara’s back and gently propelled her through the double doors and toward the two rows the Jennings clan filled every Sunday. Sara sank to the seat, glad to have something solid beneath her.

O Lord, don’t let me fall apart in front of everyone. Get me through this.

Frustration welled in Dakota’s chest. If only she would talk to him. He wanted to share with her what he’d discovered by the river yesterday. He wanted to impart some hope into a hopeless situation. The Word said,
Fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
If he could tell her that, maybe it would help.

John came to stand beside him. “She’s hurting bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Wish I could do something. I always thought you two were perfect for … well, you know what I mean.”

“We
are
perfect for each other. I still believe it. But there’s a mighty high wall between us right now, and I’m not the one who’s got to climb over it.”

Just then his mother, escorted by Kevin Quade, came through the main church doors. Despite her arm in a cast and a fading bruise on her forehead, she looked much improved from the last time he’d seen her, which was only yesterday morning. He suspected Kevin had something to do with that.

He felt a flash of irritation, realizing that he and Sara could be separated forever while his mother might be falling in love with this man. Not that he begrudged her some happiness. She deserved it. She’d given up plenty over the years. But her unforgiving attitude would have to change before any of them — Claire, Sara, Dakota — could be truly set free from the web of heartache that entrapped them all.

Seeing Dakota, Claire drew Kevin across the narthex. When she stopped, she gave her son a kiss on the cheek. “Honey, you remember Kevin.”

“Sure.”

The two men shook hands.

Claire continued her introductions. “And this is Dakota’s good friend, John Kreizenbeck. John, this is Mr. Quade from Seattle.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Quade,” John responded. Then he added, “You’re looking good today, Ms. Conway.”

Claire smiled. “Thanks. I’m feeling better too.”

“Bet you’ll be glad to get rid of that cast. My youngest sister broke her arm once, and she just about drove us all crazy ‘cause of the itching. Complained all the time.”

Dakota heard little of what his friend was saying as he glanced toward the sanctuary, wondering where Sara was sitting, wondering if she was all right. Would it upset her even more if she saw Claire? And what would his mom do if the two of them met face to face?

Don’t lose hope, Sara. Remember that we’ve fixed our hope on the living God. Don’t forget it. Not ever. Hang on to it.

Claire sat down between Dakota and Kevin. It wasn’t until then that she saw Sara’s distinctive red hair.

Anger instantly glowed hot in her chest. She’d hoped Sara wouldn’t have the nerve to show her face in church. After all, she had to know Dakota would be there, and if Dakota was there, then Claire would be there too. Surely, she had known it.

But she’d come anyway.

As the service began, Claire was only vaguely aware of the pastor, of the choir, of those around her. The very core of her being was focused on hating the younger woman whom she held to blame for every wrong that had occurred in her life.

She didn’t know for certain what drew her back from her secret rage. Perhaps it was the minister’s voice: “Galatians 6:1 and 2 say, ‘Brethren, even if a man is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ.’”

Something stirred inside her, one word repeating in her mind:
Restore … Restore …

“John 20:23 says this: ‘If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained.’”

She knew what God was saying to her, and yet she resisted.

I’m the wronged person here. Me!

FORTY-ONE

The negligee on the mannequin was made of white satin and trimmed in delicate lace. It would have been perfect for a bride on her wedding night.

Claire watched from behind a display as Sara, longing and loss written on her face, reached out and touched the nightgown. Then, as if stung, she quickly pulled back her hand. Her shoulders slumped, and she turned away, an aura of futility lingering in her wake as she left the lingerie department.

Claire drew in a deep breath, not realizing until then that she’d been holding it. She’d been afraid Sara would see her, and yet she’d been unable to move so much as an inch. She’d been like a deer caught in the headlights, mesmerized despite the danger. Something in the girl’s expression had caused a crack in her hardened heart.

She knew she was supposed to forgive Sara, and it wasn’t anything Dakota or Kevin or even the pastor had said that told her so. She knew she had to let go of the anger and bitterness a second time. She’d laid it all down once, when she first came to believe. But how quickly those old traits had replanted themselves when she’d met Sara. Like the demons returning to the man because he didn’t put anything else in their place after Christ cast them out.

I don’t want to be like that man. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to be worse off than I was before.

Wanting suddenly to escape this place, she hurried toward the escalator. And that’s where she came face to face with Sara. Each of them stopped, looked in the other direction, as if they could pretend they hadn’t seen each other, then met the other’s gaze a second time.

Sara was the first to find her voice. “Claire.”

“Sara.”

“I … Please, go ahead.”

She had an affair with my husband, and then she wanted my son.
The thoughts raced through Claire’s mind in an instant.
She took him like an innocent lamb to the slaughter. Did she seduce Dakota? Is that how she got him to propose? She must have entrapped him, her and her wicked ways. He never would have fallen for her otherwise. She hasn’t changed. It’s obvious she isn’t good enough for him. So what difference does it make if I forgive her or not? She’s gone from his life. He’ll get over her and meet some nice girl and get married. It’ll be better that way. Better for everyone.

Sara took a step backward. “I just remembered something. I’ve got to go. Excuse me. I’m sorry.” She turned and hurried away.

But not before Claire saw the tears.

The tears shouldn’t have affected her. She didn’t
want
the tears to affect her.

But they did.

Another chink appeared in her armor of bitterness.