Blair got up early Tuesday morning, fed Mr. Rogers, did her devotions, and made breakfast for her mom, who had been getting up earlier and seeming to do better. But when she wasn’t up ten minutes before Blair needed to leave for work, she ran up the stairs and knocked on her bedroom door. There was no answer.
She knocked harder, thinking that she didn’t have a very big workload today and might get off early. She’d be able to shop for groceries. She wasn’t going to be able to slip in a meeting with Deacon, though. He’d texted her late last night and told her that Lynette had taken a turn for the worse, and Pastor Wyatt was taking her back to the hospital in St. Louis.
Deacon had said he was taking a day off work and going out with him, just to be there. It was a discouraging setback.
So there was no hope of her seeing Deacon today. She wasn’t exactly depressed, but she didn’t look at the sunshine and the beautiful day with quite as much eagerness as she would if there was a chance.
Thankfully she and her mother had been developing a better relationship. Ever since they went out to the diner together, and Blair had apologized, and she and her mother talked, they’d been feeling their way into a closer and deeper relationship.
Blair had to admit coming home had been the best thing she’d ever done. She still had her apartment that she needed to go clean out and close up, but she had until the end of the month.
She knocked again on the door, harder than last time, and called out, “Mom? Mom? It’s time to get up. I need to go to work.”
Still no response.
She tried the door handle. It turned under her hand, so she pushed the door open.
Blair took two steps into the room. Her mom lay on the bed, on her back, with her hands crossed over her chest.
It was a position Blair had seen before. It put her in mind of a corpse in a funeral casket.
The thought made her whole body go cold. Her legs buckled. She caught herself before she fell to the floor and slowly walked to the foot of the bed.
She didn’t have to touch the cold, stiff foot of her mother to know that her mother had met Jesus last night.
At that thought, she did fall to her knees beside the bed, gripping her mother’s foot, waiting for the sobs that were backed up in her throat and her chest and her heart, wishing they would come out, but unable to cry. Unable to do anything but hold onto her mother’s foot and stare at the floor and wish that she’d had more time.
~~~
Two weeks later
Blair stood off to the side as the wedding guests slowly made their way through the bridal line and out of the church. They would be heading toward the Hudsons’ property, where food for the adults and games for the children awaited.
She’d heard about the wedding planning progress each time she’d been in church, since Mrs. Hudson had made a point to talk to her about it.
Blair had never been to a wedding reception where the children changed into swimming suits and played water games, but apparently that was what was happening this afternoon.
Blair wouldn’t be there.
Two weeks ago, when she found her mother, she took that as a sign from the Lord. Her mother was the reason that she’d come back.
She’d made her peace with her, and all it had taken to make up her mind about leaving now that she’d accomplished what she’d come for was the phone call she’d received later that afternoon.
Someone from the church had blamed her for her mother’s death and said it was her wild past and the sin in her life that had caused her mother to get sick and die. That person also said that she needed to back off and leave Deacon alone so that he could carry on the work of the Lord and not have her sin affect his ministry too.
She’d given her two-week notice to Wilder Stryker that evening.
The next days were a blur. She’d picked out a casket and made the arrangements, decided to take Mr. Rogers and Rascal with her and talked to Deacon, who didn’t understand why she had pulled away from him.
She could see it in his eyes and the slope of his shoulders and his curled hands as he reached out for her and she turned away.
The pain in her heart from losing her mom was harsh, but the pain in her heart from hurting Deacon was almost more than she could bear. It made her want to double up and curl into herself and squeeze in somewhere tight and dark and deserted and just hurt alone.
But she’d gone back to work by Thursday, and she did what she was supposed do.
Deacon was busy with two funerals, because Mrs. Manarae, with the kidney failure, had died as well. With Pastor Wyatt gone and Lynette worsening, Deacon had his hands full.
Although, with the wedding, today was a happy day.
Hopefully, when she told Deacon her car was packed, and she was leaving Cowboy Crossing for good instead of going to the reception, he’d be okay. It had been almost two weeks since their unbelievable kiss. They’d barely talked.
She’d ignored his texts as well as his calls, and when he pressed her about it for a few seconds at church, she’d just said she needed time to get over her mother’s death.
Which was true.
But she couldn’t stay here, couldn’t have a relationship with him, without him finding out about Tinsley, and there were more worms in that can. She didn’t want to open it.
Part of her thought maybe she was making the wrong decision, but the biggest part saw what she was doing as the plan for her life. She knew Deacon was too good for her, and everyone else in town knew it too.
Or maybe, it was just she wanted to go back to where she came from. Where there were no phone calls telling her she killed her mother and would ruin the man she loved. Where she was building a life and no one knew her past, no one held it in front of her face, expecting her to live down to their low expectations instead of encouraging her to do better. That she could do better.
That she was better.
It was what she needed to do.
It was not what she wanted to do.
She’d watched as Tinsley skipped out of the church, giving her uncle a high five and Ivory, who looked absolutely stunning and radiant in her white gown with lace trim, a hug.
From where he stood with his brother, Deacon had looked at Blair several times and tried to make his way to her twice. Both times, he’d been stopped by someone who wanted to talk. She stood waiting.
Something tugged on her arm, and Blair looked down.
“Are you coming to the reception? Grandma wants to know if you want to ride with us?” Tinsley asked.
Blair looked down into the eyes of her daughter. Innocent eyes. Eyes that had been sheltered and protected and encouraged and taught character and morality and justice. Eyes of a little girl who would grow to be a fine woman with the best father in the world.
Only Mrs. Hudson knew her secret, and she’d kept it like she’d said.
Would she keep it even after Blair was gone?
Probably. Mrs. Hudson was an honorable woman and had said she wouldn’t tell.
“Thank you so much for offering. Tell your grandma I said thank you, but I’m going to talk to your dad for a minute before I leave here.”
There. She managed not to promise to be there, and to not lie, while also not telling the truth. Guilt tugged at her insides along with a longing which wrapped around her heart and lungs and ribs like a boa constrictor.
“Okay.” Tinsley twirled to leave but then twirled back around. “If you bring your swimsuit, you can swim with us. We’re going to play in the water.”
“I’ll remember that,” Blair said, blinking to keep her eyes from watering.
Tinsley skipped away and bounced out the side door. Blair watched her go, wishing, longing, that things could have been different.
Taking a deep breath through her nose, she turned, and Deacon strode up.
“You look at my daughter like you love her.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Blair deflected the comment.
Deacon let it go. “How are you holding up?”
She straightened her shoulders and tried to keep her expression cool. “I’m fine. I had enough casseroles in the freezer to feed me all winter.”
He laughed. “That’s what Baptists do best. Send food. All homemade of course.”
“Of course.” Inez had already come and took the casseroles to her house. With all her children, she could use every one.
Deacon tilted his head. “I’ve been kind of thinking that you’ve been avoiding me. But I’ve been busy. So maybe it’s just bad timing, although you didn’t come to the rehearsal last night. You were invited.”
“I had some things I needed to do.”
His brows went up, but he didn’t say anything. In the silence hung the question: what in the world could she have had to do that could have been more important than the wedding rehearsal and seeing the man that she’d been kissing on her porch two weeks ago?
Deacon lowered his voice, and his words came out strained. “I want to help you. If I can’t help you, I just want to be with you. Is that too much?”
He’d been amazing leading the wedding service. He’d done a beautiful job on the ceremony and when speaking for a few minutes on the subject of love. Words that were timeless and applicable and beautiful and inspiring. He’d been confident and funny, serious and at ease. She’d admired him as always as she watched.
Now he stood in front of her, wanting her.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know there’s a vote coming up in the church, and they don’t want you if you’re with me.” The words didn’t want to come, but she forced them out anyway. “I’m not any good for you.”
“That’s not—”
She held her hand up. “Wait. Let me speak.”
He clamped his mouth closed, but his fingers stretched and fisted at his sides.
“Everything that you’ve done for me has made me want to be a better person. You’ve accepted me and given of yourself to me without asking anything in return. From inviting me into your family, to giving me the reference to the job that I got, to the beautiful words and amazing kiss.” His face contracted; she shook her head. “The whole time, we knew that we wouldn’t work out. You and me. There are just too many complicated things in my past, and I would always be afraid of them coming out.”
Deacon spread his hand out, his voice low and almost pleading. “The hard stuff is already out. Everyone already knows what you’ve done. Now they can see who you are. The woman that you are now. Not the kid you were then.”
“Some things are too precious to risk.”
An angry voice interrupted them, startling Blair. “I thought we talked to you about this. I thought I told you that if you continued to see her, I wasn’t going to be able to vote for you, and you won’t have the two-thirds majority that you need in order to get paid. We’ll run you out of this church.” Mike stood on her left, and Blair turned her head. The church was far from empty, and people milled around, closer and closer, curious about the confrontation going on in the corner.
Deacon didn’t even turn his head. His eyes were staring into hers. She could hardly stand the pain in them. He knew she was saying goodbye, and he didn’t understand.
She didn’t know what to say to make him understand. She didn’t want to hurt him. That had never been her intention.
“What things?” he asked in a soft voice, pain lacing his words. “Tell me what things. We’ll get rid of them. We don’t have to keep anything. Just us.”
She swallowed, thinking that she had been all cried out from losing her mom, and the funeral, and the decisions that she made, but realizing that that wasn’t the slightest bit true as her eyes pricked and tears filled them. She wasn’t going to have a choice. He wasn’t going to understand until she told the truth.
She shook her head, unable to get any words out.
“Are you talking about Tinsley? Are you talking about the fact that you’re her mother?” he asked.
Her eyes grew big, and she gasped. “How?”
Mike’s voice interrupted them. “Ha. I should have known you weren’t such a goody-goody.” He hit Deacon on the arm. “Back in the day, she’d sleep with anyone.” He grunted. “So you’re the unlucky idiot who ended up being the father of her kid.”
That was too much for Blair. She knew it was a wedding, and she wanted to be respectful, but she wouldn’t tolerate the smear on Deacon’s character. That was exactly what she was trying to avoid. “No, you jerk,” she said in a voice loud enough to quiet the church. “You fathered Tinsley.”
She whirled around, moving out of Deacon’s grasp as his hand came up to hold her. “I already gave my two-week notice two weeks ago. I’m leaving. I’m going back to the town where I came from, where they don’t know my past and they don’t know what I’ve done. Where I don’t have to see my daughter every day and know that she can never be mine. You know the Lord closed the door on Cowboy Crossing when my mother died.”
“Maybe that was an open door,” Deacon said fiercely.
She stared at him, never having thought of that. Death was always a closed door.
“Maybe that was to push you out of your wallowing in self-pity. Did you not see all of the people at your mother’s funeral? How they loved her? How she’d done so much good in her life? Didn’t you see the doors opening in front of you and all that could be yours if you just walk through them? You don’t even have to do so with me. Just do it.” His voice had strengthened, but pain still tightened his face. “And you should be a part of your daughter’s life.”
“I’m not the dad,” Mike said angrily, ignoring their conversation.
Deacon turned to him. “No, you’re not. I am.”
Blair spun and power-walked out of the church. It was too much. She couldn’t process it all. She had everything all planned out in a nice, tidy package, and Deacon came in and shot holes through all of her faulty reasoning, making more sense than she ever could.
And what had she done?
She’d just walked out, embarrassing him in front of the man on the board who wanted to get rid of him.
Another question bothered her more.
How had Deacon found out about Tinsley?
If Mrs. Hudson had told him, Blair was going to lose a lot of respect for her, since she’d said she wasn’t going to. It wasn’t her secret to tell.
She stepped off the sidewalk and started walking to her car when the thought hit her.
What was she doing?
The man wanted her. He made no bones about it. What made her decide that she wasn’t good enough for him when he thought she was?
He didn’t look at her and see all of her past mistakes. Or maybe that wasn’t quite true. Maybe he saw all of her past mistakes, and he loved her anyway.
What he’d said just a few minutes ago as he married Ivory and Chandler came back to her. When he’d been talking about putting others first. About esteeming them better than herself. About how that wasn’t directly applied to a marriage in Scriptures, but how it was the duty of every Christian, and why would they not do that in the relationship that was closest to them?
Deacon had done that with her. He’d not questioned whether or not she was worthy of love; he just loved her. He had looked at her and saw someone that he was better than, but in lowliness of mind, he’d esteemed her better than himself.
While she had put herself and her fears first. She’d thought he was helping her become a better person, and maybe he was, but her old self had come to the forefront here in this decision.
Turning in mid-stride, she started marching right back into that church.
She yanked the door open in time to see the entire board gathered around Deacon and Mike.
Someone was talking, but when Deacon saw her walk back in, he broke out of the group and walked over to her.
He reached out for her. “I—”
She shook her head. “Me. I need to apologize first.” She lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I might still have trouble and not always remember this, but you’re right. You’ve shown me what true love is, and I haven’t wanted to believe you because the idea is so preposterous. That someone would just love me, no matter what I am. I can’t even believe it.”
“Jesus. He loves you like that.”
“And I saw Jesus in you. Because that’s how you love me.”
“I don’t think I’ve told you that I loved you. How did you figure it out?”
“Because of the way you act. You showed me love. You were love with boots on. You didn’t need to say it.”
“Well, I’m going to.” His eyes stared into hers. “I love you. I was already falling in love with you, and a few weeks ago when I was changing my clothes upstairs at my parents’ house and heard through the heat vent what you were saying to my mom about being Tinsley’s mom, everything fell into place for me. I already loved you, but that solidified everything.”
Blair’s heart raced, although she also felt free and light, like she could float.
Of course. He’d overheard. Mrs. Hudson hadn’t told him. Of course not.
“I want us to be a family. I don’t want to push too hard. But that’s what I want. With you.”
“What about them?” She nodded over his shoulder at the board members that were standing behind him.
“I think it’s going to go in my favor, but even if it doesn’t, I don’t care. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re the one that God has for me. And if that means tribulation at church, then that’s what it means.”
“Are you sure?” Her brows scrunched together, and she looked up at him.
“Dead sure.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, and she knew then that she was the most blessed woman in the world, because she had a man like this for the rest of her life.
© 2024 Jessie Gussman – All rights reserved.