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

“I’m not angry.” His denial rang false. Leaves fell all over the place.

“Yes, you are.” She put voice to the suspicion she’d always had. “You’re angry not because I became a doctor, but because you didn’t get what you wanted.”

He looked her square in the eye, his expression derisive and taut. “You’re right, Rachel. I didn’t get what I wanted. I wanted you.”

“You didn’t want me,” she scoffed. “You wanted a wife.”

“I wanted you to be my wife.”

“No, Josh. You wanted a cookie-cutter wife. Someone you could put in a box and mold to your specifications. And it didn’t take you six months after I left to find one, did it?” Her own anger and pain reared up, making her chest ache. “That only proves how deep your undying love went, doesn’t it?”

He drew back. Hurt—desolate and unmistakable—darkened his hazel eyes. “I did love you, Rachel.”

He sounded sincere. But then, he’d always sounded sincere. “Oh, save it, Josh. I’m not buying it this time.”

“What did you expect? You left and made it very clear you weren’t coming back.” The sarcasm in his tone dug at her heart.

“But I hadn’t given up hope that we’d work things out once I finished school.” Hurt-filled tears burned behind her eyes, making her more angry that she was losing her control. Shaking her head, she admitted, “I lay in my dorm room every night and agonized over my decision. Was being a doctor worth the risk of losing you?” She gave a bitter laugh. “But I never really had you.”

Josh opened his mouth, but no words came. His perplexed expression galvanized her into adding, “You never once checked on me. No phone call. No letters. Nothing.”

He shook his head. “I was hurt and angry, Rachel. You chose your dream of being a doctor over my love. I certainly didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.” His tone seethed with anger and resignation.

“No, you were too busy planning your wedding.” Thinking about the blonde who’d been after him all through high school made her insides twist with…jealousy? No, never. “And how’s dear Andrea?”

A spasm of pain, or perhaps guilt, crossed his features. “Andrea’s dead.” He stepped around her and walked toward the elevators.

Shock doused her anger like a swollen rain cloud emptying itself. “Oh, no.” Sympathy and regret tore through her, and she hurried after him. “Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He jabbed his finger on the elevator call button. “Not your problem.”

She reached out, wishing she could retract her words. Josh reared away as if she were contaminated. Stung, she let her hand drop to her side. Feeling small and petty, she said softly, “I’m truly sorry.”

The elevator doors opened and he stepped in. He turned and stared at her, his eyes cold with fury and his face a hard mask of stone. An oak tree never looked so intimidating.

“Josh, please,” she implored, wanting somehow to make amends.

He looked away and the elevator doors slid shut in her face, leaving her alone.

Should she go after him?

Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath. Her unruly tongue had caused enough damage for one day. Leaving Josh alone and staying as far away from him as possible while she was in town was the best thing she could do for him…and herself.

Andrea was dead.

Compassion filled her heart to overwhelming proportions. She ached for what Josh had lost. His wife, his helpmate, his dream.

How long ago had Andrea died? How did she die? Did they have children? Goose bumps of remorse tightened Rachel’s skin.

Years ago, she’d made it clear to Mom G. the subject of Josh and his bride was off-limits. She hadn’t wanted her assumptions of his picture-perfect life confirmed. How arrogant she’d been.

The resentment she’d used to close off the pain of Josh’s marriage deteriorated, exposing her to fresh wounds.

Slowly she walked back down the hall, rubbing away the goose bumps from her arm.

How had Josh taken the news of Andrea’s death? Had he been with her at the end? Or had he been at work and received a call? How had the doctor told him? With compassion? Coldness? Understanding? Detachment?

The questions plagued her mind. And she welcomed them as she stopped in front of Mom G.’s door. As painful as it was, thinking about Josh kept her from worrying about Mom G.

Rachel leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

Lord, why does life have to hurt so badly?

She hoped, when all was said and done, she’d have enough mortar left in her to repair the crumbling wall around her heart.

“Dr. Maguire?”

Rachel’s eyelids jerked open. She pushed away from the wall. “Dr. Kessler?”

He smiled kindly, his big gray eyes peering at her through his glasses. “Olivia’s asking for you.”

Relief surged in her chest. “How—how is she?”

“Holding her own for the moment.”

Relief gave way to a dull ache at the words meant to give comfort but not false hope. She nodded her thanks and stepped into the room. Her footsteps faltered slightly as she approached the bed.

A nurse hovered over Mom G. For a panicked moment Rachel feared something was wrong, that she wouldn’t have a chance to tell Mom G. how much she loved her, how much she appreciated her.

The nurse straightened and moved away, a reassuring smile on her face. Rachel resumed walking, her heart rate slowing to normal. As she reached the bedside, Mom G.’s eyes opened and she smiled. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Rachel winced at how weak and breathless her mother sounded. Taking her hand, Rachel held on tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” She wanted to say she should have been called right away but she didn’t want to lay guilt on Mom G. It would serve no purpose.

“You’re here, now. There’s so much to say before—”

“Don’t even go there,” Rachel interjected. “We’re going to make you well. I’m going to make you well.”

Mom G. shook her head. “I’m dying, dear. We must accept that.”

“Nooo!” Tears clogged her throat. She didn’t like constantly being on the verge of tears. Even when she’d bounced from foster home to foster home, she’d never been this scared or so close to the breaking point. She wanted to draw into herself as she’d done as a child. But she couldn’t. Mom G. needed her. And she needed Mom G.

“Rachel, please, don’t cry. Let’s use this time as best we can.”

Rachel wiped at the tears unceremoniously slipping down her cheeks. She nodded. There was so much to say. “I love you. I want you to know how much you mean to me. I wouldn’t be who I am today if you hadn’t taken me in.”

Mom G. squeezed her hand. “I hadn’t ever planned on having kids, but when I was asked if I’d take on one child…I prayed and God urged me to say yes. I remember the first time I saw you. So skinny and scared. And you tried so hard not to show it. Now look at you. You’re a grown woman and a wonderful doctor. Just like you’d planned. Are you happy, Rachel?”

Taken off guard by the question—surely Mom G. knew how much medicine meant to her—Rachel nodded. “Of course.”

Mom G.’s eyes narrowed. “Really? For a long time I’ve had the sense that something’s missing from your life. You’ve never talked about a man, or friends, even. Your phone conversations are always about your work. Work can’t be the only thing in your life, Rachel.”

“It’s not. I…” But try as she may, she couldn’t come up with an example. She worked six, sometimes seven days a week. Her apartment was small and cozy, but not a place she’d feel comfortable inviting anyone to visit. When she wasn’t working she went to movies by herself or rented videos. She attended a Bible study through her church, but outside of class, she didn’t socialize with any of the other participants.