Detour: Destination Abiding Love (11 page)

“So, um, what's up with you and Cole?”

Sierra hesitated. “He's a great friend. In fact, believe it or not, he offered to drive me to New York tomorrow.”

“Oh that's wonderful! I've been praying and praying.”

Sierra grinned. “Hold on, I don't want you to get the wrong idea.”

Melissa's eyes grew wide. “You didn't take him up on his offer?”

“No, no. I did,” Sierra assured her. “It's just Clara and…”

“Good because, in case you hadn't received the memo, I have no wrong ideas.” She said it so seriously.

Sierra didn't know what to think.

Melissa sputtered then guffawed. “I'm kidding. Relax.”

“I must be more tired than I thought.”

Melissa took a sip. “I hope when you leave for this trip, and eventually, when you move, that you won't think the new relationships you have formed need to end.”

Sierra looked down at her pink slippers and tried to think of how to articulate her thoughts. “No, not necessarily end, but they will change.”

“That's not a bad thing. You know, my parents met before my Dad went overseas to Vietnam. When he shipped off, they started with a friendship that over the course of time grew into a romance across the ocean.”

“But—”

“No buts. You and Cole have something special. Perhaps nothing will come of it, then again…
Remember,
I never have any bad ideas. What would it hurt to video chat every now and then? Or you could shoot each other a few text messages and e-mails. The world is not all that big nowadays.”

Sierra wanted to say it was silly to hang onto a pipedream, yet her pulse picked up at the very thought of the possibility. But the nagging question remained, could it cause more pain not only for her, but for him, as well? “Do you think if you're in God's will that everything always works out?”

“Absolutely,” Melissa said without hesitation. “But those 'things' are working for His purposes and glory, and that doesn't always mean smooth sailing here on earth. There can be strife, trouble, and even conflict when you're right where God wants you to be.”

“I've been reading a story about an amazing survivor of the holocaust, Corrie Ten Boom. It sounds like something she would say.”

“Even more importantly, it's what Scripture says.” Melissa set down her mug. “I don't know if this will help at all, but once when I was going through a particularly hard time, my mom said that life is like a work of embroidery. From our perspective, we see the ugly underside with knots and mismatched threads, but when God sees our lives, He's looking from the top and sees the masterpieces we are in the making.”

“So, this thing with Cole could be one of those ugly knots?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Are you willing to trust God to work it out if it's meant to be and close the door if it isn't?”

“I don't know. What if He is closing the door, and I'm trying to push my way through?”

Melissa laughed and picked up her mug. “Speaking of pushing, I think my work is done here for tonight. Just do me a favor and pray on it, OK?”

Sierra nodded. That she could do. Acting on it as Melissa suggested, well, that was another thing altogether.

 

 

 

 

8

 

Cole enjoyed Sierra's quirky sense of humor, expressive body language—even when confined within her seatbelt—and optimist attitude toward her time in New York. She was amazingly talented, and he marveled how she never seemed to put on airs or to think others were beneath her. Perhaps her past had something to do with that, but he was pretty sure that she was just who God made her to be. The hours flew by and, in his estimation, it was way too soon when they entered the city.

As they pulled up to the curb in front of the music center, he looked at her.

She sat taking in the large sculpture and water fountain with people milling about in front.

Did it look as intimating to her as it did to this country boy? “Have you been here before?”

She nodded. “Just once when I was called to interview.”

Cole glanced at his watch. “Looks like we have an hour or so to kill before you meet your contact. Would you like to get a bite to eat?”

“That sounds good. Would you mind if I just ran in to get a program? The director sent me all the music and a tentative schedule, but I'd like to see what else is going on before I meet with anyone.”

“Sure, take your time. I'll wait right here.”

“Thanks.” She got out of the car and walked into the building. This was her element, what she was born to do, but right now he'd be happy if dairy cows interested her more. Even if he wasn't a small town store owner, was there anything about him that would make her desire to leave all this behind?

Lord, does her happiness mean I have to lose her?

 



 

Sierra soaked in the smells and noise of the city. It was a comfortable feeling. She could get lost in the crowd; one anonymous person with an unknown past that no one in the multitude would seek to rectify. The here and now was all that counted.

The little food joint they settled on was nothing fancy, with its red pleather seats and Formica table tops, but it was close to the music center and relatively affordable.

She glanced at the program as excitement welled within.

“So what's going on with the orchestra?” Cole's voice brought her back to the present.

“Lots of great stuff. Other than the scheduled concerts in the hall, there's concerts in the park, pre-concert talks, open rehearsals, ensembles, you name it.”

“Sounds busy.” Cole bit into his cheese steak. Juice ran out of the back of the sandwich.

“Is that any good?”

He grinned. “Sure, you want a bite?” He held out the sandwich to her.

“No thanks, I'll stick to my salad. I don't think my stomach could handle more than that right now.” She pushed the lettuce around the plate with her fork. “Thanks again for coming with me. Your friendship and support means a lot.”

“I'd do it again in a heartbeat.” His honest gaze bore into hers.

The people at the tables surrounding them vanished as he reached out and placed his hands over hers.

“When you are ready to come back to Daviston, call me. No, don't wait that long. Call me anytime you want. I'd love to hear your voice. I'm...” He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Going to miss you.”

A lump grew in her throat. She wanted to lean into the warmth of his hand as it brushed against her cheek, yet she wouldn't—couldn't—let herself.
And I'll miss you.

She pasted on a smile and tried to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere. “Well, at least your mother will be happy now.”

He sat back, the intimate mood broken. “Nah, she's not happy unless she's unhappy about something.”

As thankful as she was to be here, Sierra knew this wasn't going to be a fun farewell. She put her fork down and glanced at her watch. “I'm not so good at saying good-bye.”

“Then don't.” Cole pushed his plate over to the side and reached for her hand. “Good-bye is final, but our friendship is not.”

She blinked back the silly tears that threatened to spill, but it was too late. One spilled over and rolled down her cheek. She grinned and rolled her eyes to try to hide her embarrassment. “Sorry, you know us females.”

Cole wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “If I didn't know how much you would regret not pursuing this opportunity, I would do everything within my power to have you stay at Daviston.”

She looked deep into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and something nameless within their depts. “I don't know what to say other than…thank you.”

 



 

Cole stepped into his apartment above the store just as his phone started to ring. He picked it up. “Hello.”

“Cole, where have you been?” Clara asked. “I've been worried sick. You weren't answering your cell. I've been trying for hours.”

Cole sat in his worn leather wingback chair and rested his head against the back. “Sorry about that. I'm fine. I just had my phone turned off for a while.”

“Why?”

“I was having some time with the Lord.”

A heavy silence descended over the line. “Oh...I didn't know you had gotten so religious.”

He cleared his throat. He had been going to church for how many years and just now someone alluded to his faith? How pathetic was that? Even sadder was the fact that he knew she had planned to sing in church, yet he now wondered whether she was going for worship, or as a social obligation. He knew how that felt, since he had lived that way for years. “Did you need something?” He cringed as he asked.

The car ride back home had been amazing. He started out feeling depressed and lonely, but the more he poured his heart out to the Lord, the more peace he felt. He didn't know how things would turn out with Sierra, but he resolved, with the help of the Holy Spirit, not to get caught up in the merry-go-round and neglect his relationship with the Lord. Sierra had reminded him of the joy he could have in God, and he didn't want to forget that important lesson. Yet here he was, just seconds home, and the pressure to “do” started already.

“I want to go out to dinner with you and talk over some of the plans I've been thinking about for your father's campaign.”

He appreciated the help she had been giving his dad, but he didn't want her to think they could be more than friends. There would never be a future for them as a couple. “I don't know if that's a good idea—”

“Your mother told me, you know.” She didn't finish the thought right away.

He was in no mood for games so he stayed quiet.

“If you have time to take Sierra to New York, you have time to take me to dinner for an hour or two, wouldn't you agree? Besides, I want to know what's going on between the two of you, anyway.”

Not nearly enough.

“Clara, this isn't about Sierra. It's about you and me. I'm not the same person I was years ago when we were dating. We both live different lives now and frankly, I'm not interested in revisiting the past.”

“What are you saying?” Her voice grew husky.

He rolled his eyes, ready for the call to end. “I'm saying that I appreciate the help you're giving to Dad, but I'm not looking—”

“Who said I was?” She scoffed. “Really, Cole, I only said we should go to dinner, not get married.”

He blew out a breath. Why did he get the feeling it was more than just a simple dinner, which she was trying to lead him to believe? Perhaps talking to her face to face would finally make her understand. “Fine. Meet me on Friday at the Bistro.”

 



 

Cole missed Sierra. He picked up his phone to call her, but then set it back down.
Lord, bless her time there and if it's Your will, please bring her back.
He glanced at the clock and sighed. Time to get to work. He picked up his keys, and descended the steps into the store.

Mrs. Whitten was at the counter talking to Sam. “There you are.”

“Good morning. Were you waiting for me?”

“I was. Could we perhaps talk in your office?”

His gut clenched. Something was off. “Sure, come on back.” He led the way to the small room tucked in the back corner. He held the door open for her. “Are you OK?”

“I'm fine.” She took a seat. “But I'm afraid something will need to be done about Clara.”

He furrowed his brow. “Clara?”

Mrs. Whitten folded her hands across her chest. “Why do you look so surprised? She's never, no pun intended, liked to play second fiddle.”

“I don't understand.”

Mrs. Whitten scooted to the edge of her seat. “Melissa heard her talking nasty about Sierra to some church members. I was there. It got...well, ugly. I'm concerned about the ramifications.”

“Why would she put Sierra down? Sierra never did anything to her.”

“Never underestimate the power of a woman who feels she's been scorned.”

“But...” Cole brushed the questions aside. “Tell me what happened.”

“Clara is bent on undoing all the good that Sierra has done. She's putting a twist on things; just enough to make people think Sierra had an ulterior motive. Melissa heard what she was saying and stood up for Sierra. It would have been fine if she stopped there.” She splayed her hands out, at a loss for words.

“What do you mean?”

“Melissa in her urge to defend Sierra happened to mention you.”

His head snapped up.

“And something along the lines that even though Sierra is no longer in town, that doesn't mean she isn't seeing you...that she is staying in contact via computer chat and phone texts, so Clara should back off.”

Cole's heart sped up. The idea of seeing Sierra again, even over the computer, was something he needed to tuck away to contemplate later. Right now, he had her honor to defend. “I don't like that Clara's spreading lies about Sierra. I'll take care of it.”

Mrs. Whitten stood. “Just be careful. I smell something very ugly. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't be here at all.”

“Do you know something I don't?”

“Not really. Just call it a funny feeling. The venom coming from Clara's gaze when she spoke to Melissa gives me the willies. Who knows what she is capable of?” Mrs. Whitten wasn't a worrier, and the fact she sought him out said more than words.

He needed to confront Clara as soon as possible.

 



 

Cole had assumed that he had until the end of his work day to talk to Clara.