Crossing Values (5 page)

“We didn’t overwhelm you today, did we?” said Peter. “Mom likes a lot of people for her holiday gatherings.”

Amber looked down at the s’more, appreciating the change of subject. “No. It was okay.” She was still trying to figure out a good place to bite without ending up like Emma. “You have a nice family, Peter.”

“Yeah. It hasn’t always been easy.” Peter seemed lost in thought for a moment.

Amber waited on him to continue, deciding to try small bites of the s’more. How much could he possibly know about hard times?

“Still, I’m thankful for the family we have. I can’t imagine life without my brother and sister around, not that I always appreciate them being close. And Pops certainly knows how to keep things interesting.”

“Sounds like there are some good stories in your grandfather’s past.” Amber put the s’more down for a moment to see if she could lick the mess off her fingers before it got out of hand.

“Pops is the oldest of five kids, and he takes family very seriously. He’s protective, almost like a lion in charge of his pride. But he also tends to, shall we say, instigate things.”

“Instigate?”

“When we were younger, he was constantly pranking us. Snake skins in our shoes, frogs in our beds, quarters glued onto the porch.” Peter chuckled.

“One time when Britt was getting ready to go out with friends, he turned off the hot water supply right in the middle of her shower.” Amber watched a sparkle appear in Peter’s eyes.

“Was she furious?”

“Probably. But Britt isn’t one to take things like that lying down.” Peter chuckled again. “She doesn’t show her anger. She strikes back. She came out of the bathroom without giving any hint that something was wrong. Her friends showed up and she sweetly kissed Pops on the cheek as she headed out the door.”

“That wasn’t the end of it?”

“At first we thought it was. We were all pretty disappointed, especially Pops. Logan and I were certain she’d come flying out of that bathroom swinging at all of us until she figured out which one was guilty. But somehow she knew, or at least guessed right.” Peter could barely contain his laughter as he retold the story.

“What happened?”

“Well, when Pops decided to go home, his car wouldn’t start. He worked on it for several minutes before he thought to look in the right place. Before Britt left to go out with her friends, she’d removed the coil wire in his engine and took it with her! He couldn’t go anywhere until she returned home.”

“How’d she know to remove that?”

“Pops is big on cars. He’s always insisted that before we could own a car, we had to know how to care for it. We’ve all been helping him on various engines and machinery around here most our lives.”

Although Peter was enjoying the memories, Amber couldn’t begin to imagine her own family acting like this. Dad would have been furious and everyone within shouting distance would have known it! And Cassie . . . oh! Cassie. Amber felt her eyes burning as she struggled to get her brain to think of something besides her sister. Anything besides Cassie.

Sassy stretched out beneath Amber’s feet. Yes! Thank you, Sassy! “So, Andy runs with you and Sassy in the mornings?”

Peter looked at her, his eyes squinting in the outer corners for a moment.

“Yeah. Andy and I basically grew up together. Dad met Micah when we first moved out here soon after Logan was born. Mom and Micah’s wife, Helen, became great friends. Andy was born just a couple months after me, so we were in the same classes at school. We’ve just always stuck together.”

Amber was certain Peter suspected she’d purposely changed the subject, but thankfully he didn’t ask her about it.

“Who was your closest friend growing up?” said Peter.

Amber looked behind Peter’s left shoulder as she thought back to her childhood. “Well, there was one girl who lived on our street when I was little. Michelle. No, Melissa. Hmm. Something like that. We liked to play dolls.” Just mentioning her old friend caused a ping to her heart. How did we go from one touchy subject to another?

Peter’s eyes narrowed again. “Did she move away?”

Amber nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to think of some way to get out of this conversation. “No.” She focused her eyes on her s’more, not that she could stomach another bite of what had been chocolaty heaven just moments before. “Things happened and we couldn’t be friends anymore. Then I moved away and that was the end of it.”

“Sounds tough.”

“Yeah.” Amber shrugged, desperately trying to sound nonchalant. “Life goes on.”

“Have you not had anyone close to you since then?” Peter’s gentle prying wasn’t helping her control the emotions bubbling to the surface.

“Not really. I don’t tend to stay in one place for long and I never write. Makes it hard to keep friends.”

Peter was so quiet that she braved a look at him. He leaned toward her, his arms on his knees, patiently waiting.

What is that in his eyes? Sympathy? Pity? At first anger rose inside her. How dare he judge my life that way! But something about his look made her stop. Peter is the fortunate one. He has a world of people who love him. Amber’s eyes began filling with tears. She was dangerously close to crying. I’ve got to get out of here.

She began to look for something, anything, to use to extract herself from the situation. Surely Emma is done in the bathtub, or Faye needs more ice cream from the garage, or Pops needs help instigating.

A sudden commotion of laughter at the dining room French doors caught Peter’s attention. Amber thrust the s’more into Peter’s hands and scrambled out of the chair, almost tripping over Sassy. She ran upstairs, trying hard not to slam the bathroom door behind her.

Chapter 7

“HOW’RE THINGS GOING WITH AMBER?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter stopped mid-stride on the path they normally took through Cascade Mountains and turned to face Andy.

“Whoa, buddy.” Andy put his hands up before his chest. “You lookin’ to fight this morning? I’d rather not start something but if something’s on your heart let’s get it out and deal with it.”

Peter wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. They’d finished their jog for the morning and were cooling down with a walk, but he knew his temper was short. At only about an inch shorter than himself, Andy was Peter’s match in speed and muscle. But he knew deep down that a fight with Andy wouldn’t solve anything. Amber irritated him. Or maybe, more accurately, God was irritating him.

“Things are . . . going.”

“She seemed comfortable with your mom when we were there for Thanksgiving yesterday.”

“Yeah.” Peter sighed. “She is definitely more relaxed around Mom than she was at first. And she’s still reading that book. I just . . . I don’t know.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m struggling to maintain perspective.”

“What kind of perspective?” The guys stopped as they reached their jeeps and grabbed water bottles, each drinking a sizeable portion.

“Well, Andy, I don’t quite know how to explain it. I feel drawn to her, but she’s not saved. Every time I pray about how to help her, God either remains silent or He simply says ‘love her.’ But how do I accomplish that without scaring her away, giving her false hope, or hurting both of us?”

“Well, let’s think about this for a moment.”

Peter most appreciated his friend’s natural ability to cut to core issues when his own head spun in circular arguments. Andy had a gift for asking just the right question, which aided him in his career as Crossing’s lawyer and always seemed to help Peter refocus on the task at hand.

“Okay. God specifically told you to ‘love her’?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there are many ways to love, different types of love, but they all involve the heart. So, how deeply can you allow her to touch your heart?”

“Exactly.”

“Hmm. With the anger I saw a moment ago, maybe a better question is how deeply do you want her to touch your heart?”

“I can’t even think like that, Andy!”

“You can’t, or won’t?”

Peter ran his hands through his hair again, frustrated at the question. “I can’t allow myself to think that way. She’s not saved. She’s shown no interest in a relationship with God. I can’t allow myself to walk down a road which will force my heart to choose between my God and a woman I love.”

“I get that. But, what if God is using you to help draw her? If God said ‘love her,’ then He’s asking you to enter into some kind of relationship with her. It sounds like the real battle in your heart is the difference between the relationship you’d like to have and the one you think may be required of you.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Is that supposed to be helpful?”

“Look, you know I only want God’s best for you. I don’t want you to involve your heart any more than God wants you to, and I certainly don’t want your head in the clouds thinking you can change her by loving her.”

“So how do I find a balance?” said Peter. “Where is the line between obeying what I know God told me to do, and maybe hurting us both? Whatever happened to her, Andy, she’s hurt. Bad. She doesn’t even have friends! How can I allow myself to begin to hope that she will trust me enough for something deeper?”

Peter and Andy stared at each other for a long moment before Peter turned to look at the mountains. “As much as part of me longs to obey God, I don’t . . .” Peter squared his jaw. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not sure I want to try.”

Andy came up beside Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I can imagine Abraham saying the same thing as he led Isaac up the mountain. He had faith to tell his servant that he and the boy would return, but did his faith waver with the climb? As he built the altar? As he lay his son down?” Andy moved in front of Peter and looked him in the eye. “Pete, I can’t tell you what exactly God is asking you to do, but I do know that He treasures obedience. I can pray with you and for Amber, and I’ll gladly help keep you accountable. But I challenge you: obey.”

Peter sighed deeply, looking at the ground. Andy’s hand still lay on his shoulder. Silently he cried out, Daddy! I just don’t know.

Peter. Those who hope in the Lord . . .

Yes, God. Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.

Peter looked up at Andy. “Okay. Obedience it is. Can we pray before heading back?”

“Can’t think of a better plan,” said Andy. “You want to start?”

Both men bowed their heads as Peter began to pray. “God, I’m not sure I like this path You’ve placed before me . . .”

: : : : :

Peter opened the door slightly and kicked snow off his boots before entering the office Monday afternoon. He briefly glanced around then walked across the room toward his mother, noting Amber faced his direction but didn’t look his way.

“Here’s the updated inventory, Mom. Chad and Jack are loaded down with the logs to fill Harding’s order, and a fresh supply of Christmas trees are already loaded on the truck and headed into town.”

“Good. Thank you.” She took the forms from him and reached for her notebook. He smiled as he remembered their annual trip to Portland to catch the school sales and purchase notebooks, pens, and other office supplies for cheaper than they could get them any other time of year.

“You received two phone calls. Micah called. He forgot to ask you if you needed more sanding belts. His supplier is running a two-day Christmas sale later this week. And Stephanie called. She said dinner Saturday would have to be postponed at least one hour. Something about a hair dresser disaster. Or maybe a dress disaster. I’m not really sure. I’m afraid I got a bit mixed up as she was telling me the problem. Anyway, she said to come for her at 7:30.”

Peter stifled a sigh and ignored his mother’s not-so-obvious look that begged him to invite her to comment further on Stephanie’s call. Best to avoid that topic. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll check the supply of belts and give Micah a call in the morning.”

“Amber, Frank is going to be a tad late for dinner tonight. Why don’t you meander on down to the clearing by the river I was telling you about? I’m just going to clean up here and then head back to the house.”

“Yes, ma’am. A walk would be nice.”

Peter watched her neatly stack the papers then slip over to the coat rack. As he looked more closely, he noticed the seams on her jacket were fraying and more than one spot had been patched with odd pieces of cloth.

Father, thank You for stopping her from traveling farther into the mountains during the winter. That coat’s not fit for the journey!

As Peter prayed, his mom stood up and grabbed her own coat.

“Here, dear, borrow my coat for the walk. The frost on those windows tells me the temperature has dropped this afternoon, and I don’t want any of us snifflin’ around Christmas.”

Bless you, Mom!

Peter watched Amber hesitate then gently take the coat. She looked at Faye, murmuring her appreciation.

“Peter, why don’t you go with her? You know how tricky those pathways can be. I don’t want Amber wandering around lost in the snow!” She gave him a quick shove, neatly pushing him into a position where he found it difficult to refuse.

Amber walked out the door in front of him. She put her hands in the pockets of his mother’s coat, waiting for him to point them in the right direction. They walked in silence for a few moments as Peter slowly guided her to his mother’s favorite river spot. He wasn’t sure whether his mom preferred watching the breathtaking sunsets behind the mountains or listening to the soothing melody of water flowing over rocks downstream.

“Do you like working in the office?”

“Yes.”

Peter waited to see if she would add more, but she remained quiet.

“Mom’s filing system confuses some of those who help out during the summer.”

“It’s not that bad,” said Amber. She grinned, hinting that she might be covering for his mom a little.

“Are you enjoying the book?”

“Yes. Your dad said that it’s a series?”

“Yeah. There’s one book for each of the siblings, so six total. Plus there’s a book before those that tells the story of Sara.”