The Isaac Project (28 page)

Uncurling Poppy’s fingers, I held his palm to my cheek. Whenever I used to get discouraged, if I fell off a horse, or got a bad grade in school, or I caught the boy I liked kissing Amy Carmichael behind the slide on the playground, Poppy would place both hands on either side of my face and look me straight in the eye. He’d tell me how much he loved me and how special I was. He’d say, “Rebekah Anne, sometimes in life we fall down, and sometimes life pushes us down. Either way, we’ve got to pick ourselves back up and brush ourselves off. No matter how you feel or what someone else might tell you, you’re a child of the King. And that makes you God’s princess. And you’re my princess too.” Then he’d kiss my forehead, swat me on the behind, and send me on my way.

Reverently, I placed Poppy’s hand back onto the cot. Scooting my chair closer to his head, I softly pushed the white wispy hair off his brow with my fingertips.

“What am I going to do without you?” I whispered.

Poppy had believed in me when no one else had, when I wasn’t even sure I believed in myself. He was the one who had cosigned the loan that had allowed me to buy the ranch and follow my dreams. He never told me I needed to get a conventional nine-to-five job or the security of a weekly paycheck. He never seemed worried that I wouldn’t succeed. He only ever said how proud he was of me.

I laid my head against Poppy’s shoulder.

“I don’t know how you did it all those years. You were mother, father, and grandfather to me. I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you did. How much I love you.”

We stayed like that for a long while—Poppy seemingly unaware of me in his comatose state. No flutter of his eyelids, no jerk of his body, no movement of any kind. If it weren’t for the hum and beep of the monitors I would have thought he’d already breathed his last breath.

My heart was breaking, but my eyes were dry. I needed to be strong for my grandfather.

“It’s okay, Poppy,” I reassured him, even though I wasn’t sure if he heard me or if I was just talking to myself. “I know I’ve been telling you to hold on, to fight. But you’ve fought a good fight, run a good race. The finish line is in front of you. You don’t have to hold on for me anymore. I’m going to be fine.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. In time I was sure that would be true.

Lifting my head, I kissed his saggy cheek. “Good-bye, Poppy.”

***

Three days later, Poppy was gone. I thought my world would have come crashing down like the walls of Jericho, but instead I didn’t feel a thing. I was completely numb. It was as if I had been shot with a thousand doses of Novocain all over my body. I could have been run over by a bus, and I doubted I would have felt the impact. I shouldn’t have reacted that way, I knew. I was prepared. I had said good-bye. But I couldn’t help feeling bereft. The sense of loss was keen.

I was unaware of everyday occurrences, such as the passage of time. If it was time to eat, I would find food in front of me. If it was time to sleep, I would be tucked into bed.

In the back of my mind, I knew there were things that needed to get done. I needed to find a funeral home and make the necessary arrangements. Pastor Dunbar needed to be informed of Poppy’s passing so he could prepare a eulogy. I should have been thankful my list wasn’t longer. When my parents had died, Poppy purchased several plots so the family could be buried together. He didn’t have a lot of material possessions, so I wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with money-grubbing relatives. I grunted. Who was I kidding? Poppy had been the last member of my family. Now I was all alone. I would have taken any relatives, even the money-hungry type.

Pushing myself off the bed, I ran my hand through my hair. Or at least I tried to. My fingers snagged on several tangles, causing me to wince with pain. The numbness seemed to be wearing off, and I was feeling something again.

Lifting my eyes, I looked at myself in the mirror above the dresser. Dark bags sagged under bloodshot eyes. My hair went out in all directions around my head, testament to the night I’d spent tossing and turning. My mouth was dry, and I worked my tongue over the roof to build up saliva. A lick across my teeth had me running to the bathroom and my toothbrush. No one should have a film that thick covering her teeth.

Dissolving myself of morning breath, I jumped in the shower, making sure to use plenty of conditioner to get all the knots out of my hair.

When I finally emerged, Luke was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Welcome back,” he said with a small smile. My mind supplied his inferred
to the land of the living.

“Don’t you have a job you need to get to?” I groused.

His smile slipped, and I immediately regretted my surliness.

“Actually, I took a few personal days off.”

I slumped into the seat opposite him, reached across the table, and stole the steaming cup of joe, sipping it with appreciation. It would have been a completely natural act on my part. That is, if I wasn’t determined he was an adulterer I was soon to divorce. However, that fact seemed to have slipped my mind in lieu of Poppy’s passing.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to be so snarky. But you don’t have to take time off on account of me. I’m used to taking care of myself. I’ll be fine.” The falsehood of the last three words left a foul taste in my mouth. I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t sure when I’d be fine again. But I needed to convince Luke otherwise.

“Are you saying you don’t want me here with you?” His voice was quiet, his eyes sad.

The internal battle I had been struggling with raged within me. Which would win, head or heart? If I were honest with myself, the answer to his question was an easy one. I did want him here with me. I didn’t want him to leave. Not today, not ever. I opened my mouth to tell him just that, when the door burst open.

“Lisa!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”

Lisa rushed in and flung her arms around me, nearly squishing me in her hug.

“Luke called me,” she said, her words echoing in my ear.

I closed my eyes and returned my friend’s exuberant embrace. When I opened them, Luke was slipping through the door. His unanswered question hung heavy in the air around me, the response dead on my lips.

30

Rebekah

“OH, BECKY,” LISA crooned. “I came as soon as Luke called.”

My head still spun with the fact Lisa was sitting with me, that Luke had called her in the first place, and that I had let him walk out of the house without telling him I wanted him to stay. With the way I’d treated him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he went to get the divorce papers himself.

I pulled my focus back to the conversation at hand. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I said, still a bit distracted.

“I’m glad to see you’re more yourself now. Luke told me how out of it you’d been. Said he practically had to spoon-feed you. He was really worried. He cares for you a lot, you know.”

How had I not realized it had been Luke all along who’d been the one looking out for me? Why had he done it? I surely hadn’t deserved it. I could no longer fool myself that his kind actions had ulterior motives. I’d already decided to go with my heart. As much as I tried to hold on to my hurt as a shield, I’d slowly been stripped of that armor until I was utterly defenseless. I was in love with my husband. I admit it. There was nothing left to do but forgive him of any indiscretion.

But maybe there was a scenario that had occurred in Michigan other than the one that
woman—
my
Christian charity restrained me from calling her something more colorful—had portrayed. Was there a way to silence the doubts lingering in my mind?

She squeezed my shoulder. “I have to tell you, even though I agreed to find you a husband and we prayed about it, I was still skeptical that everything would turn out all right. It was just too crazy to conceive. But look at the two of you now. You guys are obviously in love. The whole thing is so romantic.”

Lisa’s incessant prattle registered through my introspection.

Lisa! She’d been there. Maybe she would know the truth.

“Hey,” I interrupted, “you saw Luke during his trip back east, right?”

“Yeah. I had dinner with him and his family one night.”

“Was that before or after he supposedly saw Marty in the hospital?”

“After. Wait, what do you mean supposedly?” Lisa scratched the side of her head.

“I called Luke when he was in Michigan. Only he didn’t answer. A woman did. She told me Luke had gone there to see her and that she had
rewarded
”—my mouth twisted as I spat the foul word—“him for his effort.”

Lisa’s jaw hung open. “I don’t believe it. Becky, he told us he loved you that night. Why would he say that if he’d been with another woman?”

If only all the pieces would line up. “He said he loved me?” My voice was small, unbelieving, as my heart raced.

Lisa nodded. “Did you talk to Luke about it? What did he say?”

“I know I probably should have confronted him, but what if he just denied it? Could I trust him to tell me the truth? In my experience, cheating men are also liars.”

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this.” Lisa retrieved her purse from where she’d dumped it by the door. Rummaging through her Vera Bradley bag, she withdrew her phone.

Lisa gave me one confident nod of her head with an accompanying wink. I returned the gesture with a reticent smile. I was starting to have second thoughts. Maybe not knowing for certain wasn’t so bad.

“Hey, honey, I’m here with Becky, and she just told me something very interesting. We need your insight on the matter.” Lisa relayed all I had told her.

I followed along with the discussion as best as I could, being privy only to Lisa’s responses. “Mhmm…Oh really?...Isn’t that interesting…Yes, he should have told her.” The conversation turned decidedly more personal when Lisa’s voice grew intimate. “I miss you too, but we’ll see each other in a few days. I love you.” Pause. “Bye.”

I pounced as soon as she ended the call. “He should have told me what?”

“Apparently, Marty’s mom has made advances toward Luke in the past. He turned her down one too many times, and she fired him from being Marty’s tutor. Sam thought Luke should have told you about her, but since Luke didn’t date her or have any interest in her whatsoever, he thought it was a nonissue. He said you had too many other things you were worrying about.”

My breath left me in a whoosh, and I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. “So, what? She made it all up?”

Lisa squeezed my hand. “Looks that way.”

I shook my head. I was completely dumbfounded. Why would anyone say something so malicious, so vengeful? And I had believed every foul word like it was the absolute truth, never questioning the word of a stranger over that of my own husband.

A groan strangled in my throat as I remembered the horrible way I’d treated Luke since he’d come back. He’d presented me with a beautiful and thoughtful gift, an exquisite music box, and I’d called it stupid. Stupid! If only I could go back and tell him how much I really loved it. How much the gesture meant to me. How much he meant to me.

I bolted off the couch faster than if someone had poked me in the behind with a knitting needle. “I’ve got to go find Luke.”

I needed to talk to him, and it couldn’t wait another minute. I never once thought that a proper grieving granddaughter would go gallivanting off to declare her undying love in the wake of her grandfather’s death. Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic. But if I
had
thought of it, I knew Poppy would have approved. He did, after all, want to see me happily married before his passing. I arranged the married part. Thankfully, God provided the
happily
portion. Now to go find that husband of mine and assure I
stayed
happily married.

Lisa chuckled as I dashed out the door.

A few feet from the house, I paused, looking right and left. Which way to search first?

Lady barked from the barn. It wasn’t one of her happy I-found-a-squirrel-to-chase yaps either. No, this one was low, laced with a warning growl. I sighed. I wasn’t in the mood for a detour, but I needed to make sure nothing was threatening the horses. Coyotes were known to roam the area, and I didn’t relish the idea of doctoring bite marks, or worse, losing an animal.

Lady’s next bark ended in a pain-filled yelp, and I sprinted the rest of the way to the stables. Searching through the stalls, I found her lying in a heap on a bed of hay.

“Lady!” I rushed to her side.

Only I never made it.

Once over the threshold of the stall, I was grabbed from behind in a vice grip, the biting point of knife pressed to my neck. I inhaled sharply, and my punishment was immediate and twofold. The jerky movement of my involuntary gasp caused my neck to rasp against the edge of the blade. The small puncture stung, but it could have been, and still might become, much worse. I needed to stay as still as possible. I gagged. And breathed as little as possible. The stench of the unwashed body that held me turned my stomach.

The man’s chest rumbled against my back in his mirth. “My day keeps getting better and better.”

My mouth filled with saliva, but I didn’t want to swallow. I wasn’t keen on my skin moving against that blade again. With small movements, I asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Who am I?” The man snorted. “With all the horses you’ve stolen from me, little lady, you’d think you’d know who I was.” Then he leaned his head down till his mouth was next to my ear. A wiry beard scratched my face. Bile burned my throat.

“But don’t you worry none. We’ve time to get better acquainted.” The knife that had been pressed to my throat now traced a line down my cheek as my assailant caressed me with the blade. “Maybe you can pay me back for all your thieving ways.” The hand that didn’t hold the knife slid down and cupped my breast.

My heart pounded in my chest, and my head raced to find a way out of the situation. I had been scared before but thought I might be able to talk some sense into the guy. But he had just doubled the stakes, and I wasn’t the betting kind. Desperation clawed at my every nerve.