Terri Reed - Love Comes Home and A Sheltering Love - Love Comes Home / A Sheltering Love

She squeezed her eyes tight and fought the tears building, clogging her throat. She didn’t want Josh to see her like this. She hated this feeling of utter helplessness.

God, I need you. I can’t face this on my own.

She heard Josh let out an exasperated groan. Then his arms came around her, pulling her to his chest. She stiffened in shock. The odd combination of his woodsy-and-spice scent filled her head, evoking images of Christmastime. She longed to melt into his big broad chest and partake of the comfort being offered.

She didn’t want his comfort. It hurt too much because it came from pity, not affection, but she couldn’t deny the warmth soaking her through, making her conscious of every point of contact between them, every bunching muscle, every beat of his heart.

She swallowed her tears and broke away from him before she gave in to the attraction building between them.

Bereft of his warmth, she wrapped her arms around her middle. Focus, Rachel, focus. “What had Mom G. asked us to promise? To take care of each other. It wasn’t like she was asking us to get married.”

“Right.” Josh’s voice drew her attention.

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. “But how?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure out a way.”

She stared down the hall. Maybe Josh had a point. It could be done. Through telephone calls, Christmas cards, e-mail. They could take care of each other long-distance. In ways that wouldn’t wreak havoc on her life. Or his.

She straightened to her full height, still only barely reaching his shoulders. “You’re right. We’ll find a way. We can do this.”

He smiled approvingly. “Yes, we can.”

She resented how good his approval felt.

As Rachel swept by him and back into Mrs. G.’s room, Josh took a moment to recover from the shock of seeing Rachel almost shatter. It tore him up inside to know she hadn’t completely accepted the eventuality of Mrs. G.’s death. Rachel was trying so hard to be strong. Behind her controlled exterior was a woman struggling against death and grief. He understood why Mrs. G. wanted his promise. When Mrs. G. died, Rachel was going to need an anchor to hold on to because the arctic storm brewing within her would be overwhelming. Whether he liked it or not, he would be there for Rachel because he’d promised.

Mom G. stared up at Rachel with anxious eyes. Taking her hand, Rachel sought to reassure her. “We promise to take care of each other.” Rachel glanced at Josh next to her. His smile was pensive.

“Thank heaven.” Mom G. relaxed into the pillow for a moment and then looked at them with worried eyes. “I need one more thing from you both.”

Rachel braced herself. What more could she want from them? What more anguish would she have to suffer in Josh’s presence?

Josh chuckled softly. “Whatever you need, Mrs. G.”

“Rachel, you need to eat. You’re too thin. Josh take her to get something to eat.”

The motherly words touched Rachel deeply. “I’m okay, really.”

“Please, Josh, make her go,” Mom G. implored.

Rachel had had enough of Josh, thank you very much. “I’m not leaving you.”

“I don’t want you to get sick, honey.”

A flutter of panic hit Rachel. What if she left and Mom G. died before she returned? Rachel knew she couldn’t live with that. “Josh can bring something here.”

“I want to sleep, Rachel. I’ll rest better knowing you’re letting Josh take care of you. As you promised.”

Josh reached out and took her hand. She swallowed back the shiver of comfort in his heated touch. “Rachel, you need a break. We’ll be back in a hour.”

“Anything could happen in an hour,” she whispered and pulled her hand free. Tears once again burned at the edges of her eyes.

“Do you trust God?”

She gazed into his warm hazel eyes. “Of course.” Her answer was automatic. There was no question in her mind she trusted God. He’d seen her through so much and had given her the direction for her life.

Josh placed his hand on her shoulder; heat spread out from the point of contact. “Then let’s entrust her to His care and ask for Him not to take her until you’ve returned.”

This was a test of her faith and she hated the sudden hesitation gripping her soul. She wanted to know where Josh stood. Had his faith survived the death of his wife? “Is your faith that strong?”

Something akin to anguish flittered across his face, but then it was gone, replaced by determination. “Right now it is.”

She had her answer. His relationship with Christ had suffered. She understood. To lose the one you loved so suddenly, without having a chance to say goodbye, would be enough to rock the most solid of foundations.

Mom G. squeezed her fingers. The weight of Josh’s hand on her shoulder imprinted her skin. Her gaze darted between the two. Did she have enough faith? A still, quiet moment slipped by and Rachel was filled with a comforting peace. She nodded. Please, God, let there be time for me to say goodbye.

Rachel listened to Josh’s words of prayer, felt them reverberate within her heart, filling her with comfort she gladly accepted. She’d always loved the sound of his resonant voice, could listen to him talk for hours. Time had only deepened the timbre, matured it in a way that was very appealing. And his words of faith were a balm to her weary soul.

“Thank you, Josh,” Rachel murmured.

“Shall we?” He gestured toward the door.

Rachel kissed Mom G. goodbye, noting how drawn and exhausted she looked. Mom G. had expended a great deal of energy in securing the promise she wanted. It made Rachel more determined to comply.

Josh led the way out of the room. Rachel walked to the nurses’ station, where she gave them her beeper number and elicited a promise from Jamie to make sure Mom G. received some tea before her next chemo session, which she was scheduled for within the hour.

“Everything okay?” Josh asked as they boarded the elevator.

“Yes.” She followed him to the cafeteria.

Josh held open the door for her to pass through. The rattle of dishes and the rumble of voices greeted them. In one corner, a young mother spoon-fed a fussy toddler, while doctors and nurses, their white coats or green scrubs distinguishable, relaxed at several tables.

With metal trays in hand, Rachel and Josh went through the food line.

Even though it was only midmorning, Rachel chose a salad. She didn’t want the heaviness of breakfast fare. Josh picked a hamburger and fries. “That food’s going to sit in your stomach like a rock,” she commented.

He grinned. “I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”

“Apparently.”

At the cashier, Josh insisted on paying. Though she was used to taking care of herself, Rachel didn’t argue. She needed to think about something else. Anything. She searched her mind for a topic of conversation, but unfortunately with Josh, all they had was the past.

“Whatever happened to your ‘65 Chevy?” she asked as they took their seats at a table near the floor-to-ceiling window. The warm sun fell on her back and she shrugged out of her jacket.

“I still have her.” Josh sat opposite her.

“She runs? You were always tinkering with the engine, replacing one thing or another.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitched. “Sort of.”

“Do you ever drive her out to the lake?” Now why’d she go and ask that? Cherry Lake had been a special place for them. A place to go when the world was too hectic and intrusive. It occurred to her that there at the lake, alone with Josh, she’d never experienced that trapped, restless sensation. She mentally shrugged the notion off, attributing the lack of restlessness to being a teenager in love.