The Reluctant Bride (5 page)

“Yes, but…I don't know what to say. We can't keep on seeing each other. It won't work.”

“It can work. I don't believe all the things that you believe, but I won't stand in your way. Go to church, be the Christian you ought to be, love God more than anyone if that's how it has to be. But don't run away from what we could have together.”

Chills ran through her. Her clothes were still damp and she shivered. She could have opened the door to go, but she found herself more drawn to him than ever by his tenderness. “Rob, I want us to be honest with each other, and the truth is, I left California to get away from my family. I have a mother who doesn't love me, a father I never see and no one else. I'm probably not a good risk for anyone's future, but especially not yours. My father—” She stopped.

He waited for a moment, then asked, “Your father…what?”

“He worked for a successful company near Sacramento. Things didn't go right. He's been in trouble with the law, and my mom moved away because of it. I guess I did, too.”

“What did he do?”

“It doesn't matter. The important thing is that you understand a future with me would mean nothing but problems for you. Who knows? You could become a partner at Alsmore, Barlett and Maine one day or go into politics to become a judge. But with me…”

“Specifics, Micah. Why would having you in my life hurt my future?”

“You don't want anyone who comes from my family tree.”

“I don't just want someone who comes from your family tree, Micah. I want you. And, unless you can look me in the eyes and honestly tell me you don't feel the same about me, I'm not walking away from this.”

Micah averted her gaze to look out the window. She could not do what he asked, and he knew it as surely as she did.

“Don't be afraid of ‘us,’” he said, touching her damp curls.

“It's not what you think it is.”

“Then tell me what it is.”

Micah had never come close to sharing her secrets with anyone until that moment, looking into Rob's warm eyes. But she had not moved all those miles,
halfway across the country, only to tell the story again. She shook her head, her hair moving against her shoulders.

Rob searched her troubled expression and sorrowful green eyes that reflected painful memories. “Did someone hurt you?” he asked hesitantly.

“No, nothing like that,” she answered. But the remarks and gossip a decade ago had stung almost as though it had been a physical affliction. “Rob, I can't talk about this. Not now—” Her voice broke off.

He nodded. “All right, when you're ready.”

But Micah sensed there would be some things she'd never be ready to discuss. Not with Rob.

“I should go,” she stated softly, turning to leave.

“I'll walk you to the door.”

“No,” she protested. “You have a long drive home. If you get out in this rain, you'll get drenched again.”

“C'mon, let's go,” he said and opened his car door.

“But there's no reason—”

Rob disregarded Micah's argument and came around to open her door. “You're not walking through that dark courtyard by yourself.” He took one of her hands in his, and they hurried through the rain to the gate and back toward the rear apartment.

Micah slid the key into the lock and they stepped
inside the doorway, out of the stormy spring weather.

“Thank you, but I walk through that courtyard alone nearly every evening.”

“You shouldn't,” he stated. “You need an apartment that isn't so secluded.”

She switched on the light in her not-so-tidy living room. Paints and brushes were scattered on top of her old coffee table and an easel sat in front of the window.

“Thank you for dinner…the movie…everything,” she said.

“I want to see you again.”

“No, Rob, please, let it go.”

“I won't.” Rob's warm hand brushed her face, tilting her chin up, and he studied the glimpse of honesty Micah had unknowingly shown him in a lingering gaze. “Tomorrow?”

Mixed feelings ran through her at the sound of his words. Another evening with him. What would it mean? Would it really matter so much? “Rob, we shouldn't.”

“But we will,” he stated bluntly.

“You're the one who will be hurt.”

“I'll take my chances,” he responded, and kissed her lightly on the temple. “Seven o'clock?”

“No, I have a class to teach at the tech school tomorrow evening. I'll be home around seven-thirty.”

“That's not so late. I could come by then for a
while,” he commented with a hint of a smile returning. He hesitated for a moment, and Micah thought he might kiss her again. But he made no move to touch her. “Tomorrow,” he said as he slipped away from her, through the door into the rainy evening.

Micah closed the door and leaned against it. This was going in the wrong direction…and quickly.

The next day passed slowly for Micah as she silently berated herself throughout the hours for agreeing to see Rob again. More time spent with him would only make her want him more. But her heart was still winning out in the decision-making process when day turned to evening.

Rob arrived at exactly half past seven. Micah had returned home from class only minutes earlier, and she excused herself to change clothes.

“Could I use your phone to call my brother while you are changing? He left a message for me at work today asking me to call and, so far, I haven't been able to reach him.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Micah replied before disappearing into the bedroom and slipping out of her slacks and blouse and into a sky blue top and a soft, summery skirt splashed with color. She slid both feet into her favorite leather sandals and was walking from the bedroom back to the living room while running a brush through her free-flowing hair when she overheard part of Rob's telephone conversation.

“Yes, you can use the boat. I'm going to be too busy this weekend anyway. No, I had dinner with Liz tonight. Right. We had a good time. Sure, no problem. I'm at Micah's apartment now. See you later.”

Micah stood in the doorway, and Rob replaced the receiver and looked up at her. “Ready? I thought we could go out for coffee and dessert.”

Dessert. He had obviously already had dinner. With Liz.

“Micah?” he said when she failed to respond.

She forced a smile. “Fine. That sounds fine.” Then she picked up the sweater she had left on the sofa. So what if there was a Liz? Micah had no future with him anyway. What had she expected?

“There's a little restaurant a few blocks from here that's famous for its strawberry pie. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, it's fine,” she replied, wondering why her mind had gone so blank that “fine” was the only adjective she could think of. Other than “jealous.”

They left her apartment and walked the few short blocks to the corner café where pie and coffee awaited them. Once seated in a semiprivate booth in the corner, Rob placed their order and studied the distant look in Micah's eyes.

“You're not talking much this evening. Did you have a bad day?” he inquired.

“No.” The day had been good. It was the night
that was falling apart. “How about you?” she asked politely.

“What's wrong, Micah? Something has happened.”

“No, it's nothing.”

“We said we'd be honest,” Rob reminded her. “It was your idea.”

The waitress appeared with their food. Rob thanked her, then returned his attention to Micah, who sat staring into the swirl of cream she had poured into her coffee.

Honesty. It really had been her idea. “How was your dinner?” she asked in an artificially even tone. She knew it was none of her business, but the question would give her no peace.

“Dinner?” he responded with a frown. “Good. Fun. Why?”

He was going to make this difficult. She could see that in his casual reply.

“Just wondered.”

“Liz called and said she was free for dinner and I was, too, so—”

“You can be free now, too, if you want to be. I told you we shouldn't see each other again,” she said softly, being careful not to show any emotion. “You didn't need to cut your other plans short to keep this late date with me.”

Rob had every right to be angry, and Micah fully expected to be informed that this was none of her business. But there was no sign of anger evident. In
fact, Micah thought she saw a glimpse of a smile as he raised the coffee cup to his mouth before responding.

“You don't know who Liz is, do you?” he commented, a definite smile now curving his lips.

“Is there any reason I should?” She studied her untouched dessert. Even strawberry pie didn't look good. What was this man doing to her?

“You've worked with her every day this week.”

Micah looked up at him in blank surprise.

“Angela Elizabeth,” he stated.

“Your sister?” A warm blush of embarrassment colored her cheeks, and she raised a hand to her mouth. “I didn't know…I mean…you call her Liz?”

“I have since I was old enough to know she preferred being called Angela. Teasing that has stuck over the years.” Rob reached across the small table, covering Micah's hand with his own. “Feel better?”

“Better?” she moaned. “I feel like a fool. I thought—”

“A little jealousy is good for a relationship,” he replied and released her hand. “Now, eat your pie.”

After several minutes of discussing the events of their workdays, Rob began a new line of conversation which surprised Micah almost as much as finding out who Liz was. It was about his past. And Nick.

“I remember coming in here for lunch occasionally, with Nick, years ago. The strawberry pie was
the main attraction. Well, that and a pretty blond waitress.”

“That you liked?” Micah stuck a fork into a berry and raised it to her mouth.

Rob shook his head. “Nick. He fell in love with her.”

Nick. Rob's friend who had died, Micah recalled. The link between the man Rob is now and who he used to be. She put down the fork. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

“She died with him in the accident” Rob stared into his coffee cup, and Micah knew he was avoiding her gaze. She sat silently, uncertain whether or not to pursue the subject. Finally, she offered, “You still miss him.”

And Rob met her eyes, the stern look Micah glimpsed suddenly softening. “I always will.”

Micah nodded. She understood how that pain felt. “Always” could be a very long time. She placed her hand around the warm cup, hoping Rob would continue. And he did.

“Nick and Rachel had gone to hear a missionary they both knew speak in Cincinnati. They started home after the service. It had been raining…the roads were slick. And, in the dark, in the drizzle… he missed a curve.”

Micah's heart ached for the loss. Rob's. Nick and Rachel's. She watched him avert his gaze to look out the nearby window.

“They hit a tree and died. Just that quickly, Micah. He made a mistake, and they both died.”

She listened without comment…and waited.

“Nick is…was the finest Christian I've ever known. He didn't deserve to die so young…and not like that. What a senseless loss.”

“Yes, it is,” she agreed softly. “I don't know why so many things happen that we don't understand.”

Rob glanced back into Micah's eyes with a critical look. “Neither do I. At the funeral I asked the district superintendent how something like this could happen. To
Nick
of all people. He loved the Lord and tried to serve Him how he knew best. And yet, he was dead. So, what do you suppose the D.S.'s answer was?”

Micah gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I don't know.”

“That's it. ‘I don't know,’” Rob gave a harsh laugh. “‘I don't know,’” he repeated, running a hand through his hair in a restless movement “What kind of an answer was that for the deaths of two good people?”

“An honest one.”

“An
inadequate
one,” Rob retorted. “And I knew I was about to plunge into a
world
of inadequate answers…a
lifetime
of them.”

“That's what faith is all about, Rob. None of us will get very far in this life without it.”

“I didn't have enough. Not then, not now.”

Micah weighed her words carefully. “Nick was your best friend. He wouldn't want his death to cost you your relationship with the Lord. I think it would break his heart to know that about you.”

“Knowing Nicholas Alsmore the way I did, I'm sure you're right.” Rob's eyes flashed an angry glance, and he signaled for their check.

“Alsmore? Of Alsmore, Barlett and Maine? Your law firm?”

“One and the same,” he responded, pulling several bills from his wallet. “Nick was the son of Taylor Alsmore, the senior partner. He had planned to become a lawyer.” Rob rose from his seat in the booth and held out his hand to Micah.

She took the hand extended and stood up to leave with him. “And now you work with Nick's dad…in place of Nick….”

“No one can replace Nick,” Rob remarked while opening the door to exit the restaurant “But, yes, I work with his dad.”

They stepped out onto the brick sidewalk and began to walk the several blocks to Micah's apartment, hand in hand, and Micah couldn't remember such a simple pleasure meaning so much. She walked silently by his side, knowing she could have held his hand forever, through lack of faith, loss of friends, days of thunder and lightning or sunshine. Forever. And the thought terrified her. She needed to think about something else. Anything else. Maybe Rob would talk more about his past.

“Do you work with Alsmore because you want to, or because you think you should?” She asked the question that nagged at her.

“The shoulds and the oughts make a lot of demands on us, don't they?” he replied and squeezed her hand. “It's a good job, Micah. The money is great, the future looks promising….”

A stab of guilt pierced her heart. She was enjoying the present far too much to consider the future. His or hers. And she wanted to know more about his past.

“Rob, tell me about Nick. What was he like?”

“We grew up on the same street, started kindergarten and went all through school together.” He smiled. “We played army and cops and robbers after school. Then came Little League, and junior-high basketball. We both learned to drive the same summer.” Rob stopped speaking, and Micah walked along with him in silence.