No Shadow (Prodigal Sons of Cane) (10 page)

The idea that
Melissa was trying to fix them up—or at least trying to get them to reconcile
after the unspoken conflict with the Dean and manuscript—made Helen feel
horribly awkward and embarrassed.

She hoped she
hadn’t given any signs of being interested in Andrew. She’d never considered
herself the kind of woman who threw herself at any man, no matter how much she
might want him, and she didn’t like the idea of anyone believing she had an
interest in a man as unattainable as Andrew Cane.

Surely Melissa
didn’t think… And
Andrew
didn’t think…

Helen pored
over her memory of every interaction she’d had with him. Surely she hadn’t
acted like she was flirting with him or harboring a secret interest. Her cheeks
burned at the memory of laughing with him so fatuously as they’d rolled out
that rug, and she wanted to shrink with embarrassment as she recalled her
response when he’d caught and held her in the Harrison attic.

She knew her
feelings for Andrew were confused and hardly indifferent, but she didn’t think
she’d let that show. She’d known all along how hopeless it was, which was why she’d
tried so hard not to entertain any such feelings.

She had to be
so, so careful. With her heart and with her behavior.

They walked for
a long time in silence.

Helen enjoyed
hiking—the physical activity, the time out in nature, and the adventure of treading
on rocks, tree roots, and packed ground to reach a final destination. She made
herself loosen her hold on her worries and embarrassment. She could enjoy the
day, as long as she was careful about how she acted with him.

They hiked for
a half-hour, Andrew only speaking to point out some unusual birds or local plants.
She started breathing more quickly from the exercise, and her cheeks reddened
from the breeze and exertion. She couldn’t help but admire Andrew as he hiked.
He was a strong, powerful man, and he looked at home in the woods—his steps
sure and his eyes quick and observant. He seemed like such a businessman that
she was almost surprised by his ease in nature.

There was
something compelling and natural about him out here—something that held her gaze
and captivated her. No sense in trying to talk herself out of it. She was
deeply attracted to him. No doubt about it.

But she would
be careful. Not let him know. And not let it lead her to any more dangerous
thoughts. She would only get hurt again. Even more.

“Do you need a
rest?” he asked, after a long stretch of silence.

“I’m okay.” Her
breathing was fast but she felt pretty comfortable. “I don’t spend all my time
reading, you know.”

He paused so
she could catch up with him and lifted his dark eyebrows as he looked down at
her. “I never thought you did. You seem to be in really good shape.”

“Thanks,” she
murmured, dropping her eyes, telling herself to be sensible.

“There’s a good
spot up here to look down,” he said, starting to walk again, this time beside her
as the trail widened and the trees thinned out. “You can see all of Cane.”

She walked with
him to a break in the forest where the trail curved around the side of the
mountain. There was a rock overhang that allowed a view of the full expanse of
the valley. They stood and stared down at the little town sprawled out in the
bowl of the valley.

“There’s my
house,” she said, feeling a silly delight over spotting it from above. “And
there’s the church.”

Andrew pointed
down and to the right. “And there’s my home.”

Something about
the way he said the words made her turn to look at him. His face was still
guarded—as it had been all day—but she wondered what he was thinking. Wondered
if he truly thought of his childhood house as his home. Wondered if he was glad
he’d come back.

He slanted a
look over at her, catching her stare. Something in his expression changed.
“You’re angry with me.”

She made a
brief sound of objection in her throat, too startled to form a coherent answer.

“You’re acting
normal. And you’re always polite. But you’re angry.”

Helen stared
down into the valley, toward the college where she could easily pick out the
library building.

His voice was
low and slightly rough. “I didn’t pressure the Dean to give up the purchase of
the manuscript, if that’s what you think.”

She gasped, and
her eyes flew up to his face.

He gazed at
her, as if he couldn’t look away, even though he kind of wanted to. “I didn’t.
I wouldn’t have done that. I know I have a certain amount of influence in this
town, but I’d never use it for reasons like that.”

“So what did
you do, then?” she asked, startled when her voice sounded so needy.

“I told him
some of the plans I had for the manuscript. That’s all.”

“What plans?”

“It’s too early
to say.” He looked briefly uncomfortable, and she had no idea why. “I figured
you’d be annoyed because I did it without talking to you first, but I don’t
have all the information yet so talking to you would have been premature. I
certainly never thought I would hurt you.”

She felt a
sudden flare of anger and defensiveness. His words sounded convincing, but
she’d been genuinely hurt. “Why wouldn’t it have hurt me? How could I not be
hurt? I’d thought…I’d thought…”

His brows drew
together and his shoulders stiffened. “What had you thought?”

Her cheeks
blazed, and she hoped he’d think it was from her exertion. She wasn’t sure how
she’d gotten herself into this mess—confessing to him how and why she’d reacted
the way she did. “I’d thought we were starting to…to…”

She couldn’t
bring herself to finish. The light that had ignited in Andrew’s eyes—almost
like hope—was bewildering and exhilarating both.

“Starting to
what?” He reached out and put a hand on her chin, forcing her to raise her eyes
to meet his.

She took a
long, shaky breath. It felt like his fingers on her skin had branded her. “I
thought we were starting to be friends.”

Something
released itself in Andrew. The shuddering tension relaxed, and his mouth
softened into a small smile. “We were. We are, I hope. I didn’t mean to blow it
all by going to the Dean as I did. I hope we can be friends.”

She still
didn’t know why he’d gone to the Dean or what had been discussed, but her
father was obviously right. She didn’t know the whole story, and it sounded
like Andrew had never intended it as the act of betrayal she’d taken it for.
She let out her own pent breath. “We can. I’d like that.”

They smiled at
each other. Although she missed that urgent, compelling light in his eyes she’d
seen in the moments before, the comfortable companionship of their mood now was
so much easier to deal with.

When he reached
a hand out to her to help her climb back up to the trail, she took it, and she
didn’t pull hers back immediately. The warm, strong clasp of his hand in hers
triggered a swell of warmth and security inside her.

He was a complex
man and a conflicted one, but he was also a strong man. A good man. And a man
who knew how to protect and cherish those he cared for.

If they were
friends—if he cared for her even a little—then she would always be safe with
him.

***

Climbing up the mountain trail
to the waterfall he’d loved as a boy, Andrew told himself not to be an idiot.

Since he still
wasn’t comfortable with pursuing his interest in her, he should really rein in
his feelings. On the outcropping just now, he’d been pathetically foolish. For
just a moment, he’d thought Helen was about to express some sort of newfound
attachment for him. An attachment that went beyond friendship. And he’d wanted
to hear it. He’d been so eager he’d felt like shaking the reluctant words out
of her.

Which was
absolutely ridiculous. He was trying to be careful about how he behaved with
her, since he didn’t want to lead her on. But he also shouldn’t lead himself
on—let himself entertain feelings about her that he wasn’t allowed to follow
through on.

And that was
exactly what he’d been doing and what he was determined not to do again.

Until he got
himself completely straight with God, friendship was the only thing he was
allowed to pursue with Helen. And, even if he managed to figure everything out,
she wouldn’t necessarily be a reward for him at the end.

Friendship was
best, and it was definitely better than nothing. He was glad she’d believed him
about his visit to the Dean and had forgiven him for going behind her back.

The silence
between them seemed more comfortable and companionable as they ascended the top
half of the mountain. Helen didn’t pull away when he took her hand to help her
up a few difficult sections, and she clung to him trustingly at one point when
she lost her footing.

 She looked so
young and pretty in those two long braids that it roused his protective
instincts. He tried not to let it go to his head and made sure to release her
as soon as the need for his aid was over.

After a while,
they started chatting about their childhoods. He told her about climbing the
mountain with his father and brothers as a boy and about how they used to play
they were pioneers and adventurers. She sheepishly told him that she’d played
library as a child, collecting all the books she could find and organizing them
into makeshift shelves.

They were
chatting so entertainingly that Andrew was surprised when they reached the last
stretch of trail that led to the bluff beneath the waterfall. He reached for
her hand automatically to help her up along the loose rocks of the steep path.
They’d stopped talking, focusing only on the climb, so the sounds of the
mountain surrounded them—the calls of birds, the scuffling of rabbits,
squirrels, and groundhogs, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and the cascade of
the approaching waterfall.

When they
reached the top, Andrew led Helen past the clustering of trees to where a
clearing broke out into broad sky. In one direction, a wide vista of the
Appalachian Mountains rolled off into the horizon. In the other direction, the mountain
continued to ascend, although they were now almost to the top. At a point just
above them, a mountain stream fell over a steep drop, forming a waterfall that
streamed down a face of rock.

It had always
been Andrew’s favorite spot in the world.

He used to come
up here as a boy whenever he was upset or confused.

He still held
Helen’s hand, couldn’t seem to let it go. She didn’t appear to be conscious of
it as she stared around with a kind of breathless awe.

“Wow!” she said
at last. “No wonder this is your favorite place.”

He gave her a
quick, questioning look. “How did you know it was my favorite?”

“I saw your
face.” She smiled at him, and he wondered what she’d seen in his expression.

Then she
suddenly blushed and gently retrieved her hand. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled,
although it was obviously Andrew’s fault that they’d been holding hands for so
long.

“Thanks for
taking me up here,” she said, after gazing around for a few more minutes. “It’s
like that hymn. ‘Join with all nature in manifold witness to Thy great
faithfulness, mercy, and love.’ You can just feel that this place is worshipping
God.”

“Yeah,” he
agreed. He wondered if it was significant that she’d mentioned the same hymn
that had gotten to him so deeply at church a few weeks ago. He wondered if God
was trying to tell him something.

Spiritual answers
seemed too slow in coming to him. He tried to take comfort in what Jack had
said about him being slower to make decisions than others, but surely it must
be some sort of weakness in him that he couldn’t get over this one final
hurdle.

He was still
missing something. Something he saw reflected in the peace in Helen’s eyes.

 Something Andrew
had as a boy and wanted desperately again.

“’Morning by
morning new mercies I see’,” Helen murmured, her voice as gentle as a caress.

He gasped and
jerked his head over to study her, but she was gazing out at the waterfall. Andrew
didn’t know if she’d been speaking to him or not. Could she really have read
his mind?

When she spoke
again, he knew the answer.

She continued,
still looking out on his favorite spot in the world, “I think this waterfall,
this morning, is one of those mercies.”

Trish had packed a light picnic
for the three hikers, and Andrew carried it in his backpack. When he’d recovered
from the moment with Helen, he suggested they spread out the blanket on the
shady grass and eat it.

Helen seemed
delighted, and soon they were feasting on bread with cheddar and Gouda, apples,
olives, and homemade shortbread cookies. They didn’t talk much as they ate, but
the silence was comfortable and soothing rather than awkward.

Andrew had a
lot of trouble keeping his eyes off of Helen. She leaned back against a tree,
and even in the shade her golden hair and vibrant skin seemed to glow.

There was something
about her so fascinating to Andrew. It was like she was shining with an inner
light that couldn’t be hidden by her quiet demeanor and sometimes reticent
manner.

She glanced
over and caught him staring at her, and her cheeks reddened and eyes dropped,
entrancing Andrew even more. “Do I have dirt on my face?” she asked, rubbing at
her jaw and cheek.

He wondered if
she really didn’t know why he was staring at her. “No. You look perfect.”
Realizing how fatuous he had sounded, he looked away awkwardly as Helen’s blue
eyes flew to his face in surprise.

When he looked
back, she smiled at him shyly. “Really?”

He couldn’t
help but chuckle, thinking he must finally have been obvious enough for her to
recognize his deep admiration. “Really.”

Her smile and
her cheeks warmed even more, and they stared at each other for a long moment,
neither able to look away.

Reminding
himself that he’d nobly decided not to pursue a romantic attachment with her, Andrew
finally broke off the gaze. She was so sweet and untouched. Not perfect, of
course, but she deserved a man who was well-set on the right path and wasn’t
conflicted with so many doubts and hesitations.

Seeking a
distraction from the moment they’d just shared, he asked her about how much
she’d hiked in the area. They chatted about local trails and popular natural
spots in this part of the Appalachians, and soon they were able to relax again
into companionable ease.

After a while, Andrew
stretched out and lowered his head to the blanket, gazing up into a tall pine
tree. He pointed toward a branch near the top. “Ever since I was eight years
old and climbed up here for the first time, there has been a bird’s nest in
that spot.”

Helen reclined
back beside him so she could look up in the direction he pointed. “There’s one there
now,” she said, sounding delighted by this fact. “I can see the bird too. It’s
too bad it’s in the shade. I can’t see it very well.”

“It must be a
bird hot spot. Every year, there was a new one.” He closed his eyes and smiled,
thinking about how many times he’d come up here as a boy and stared at the
bird’s nest. He found something deeply reassuring in the fact that some things
just didn’t change.

“You love it
here, don’t you?” Helen asked softly.

When he opened
his eyes and turned his head, he saw that she was looking at him steadily. “I
told you. It was my favorite place in the world.”

“I meant more
than that. You love these mountains. You love Cane.”

A sharp emotion
twisted in his chest at having to admit it to himself, but he told her the
truth. “Yeah. I guess I still do.”

“Why did you
leave?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, as if she were afraid of
spooking whatever mood the day had conjured between them.

Andrew shrugged
and closed his eyes again. He hated to think about that point in his life. It
brought up so many painful feelings, so many conflicted memories.

Helen didn’t
press the question, although he could feel her still watching him. He didn’t
mind her steady scrutiny. It felt gentle, caring, not pushy or intrusive.

After a long
stretch of silence, he heard himself saying, “There’s not a clear answer to
that.”

“Your brothers
left too. Did something happen?”

Did
something happen?
Andrew almost winced at the question. So much happened.
Everything happened. And yet there hadn’t been one thing, like everyone
assumed, that had pushed his family into disintegration.

“No. Nothing
like that. It was just a…a process. Michael left first—just after he graduated
from high school. He was so angry. About a lot of things. He stormed out and
never came back.” As he spoke, he stared up at the sky and the tree branches
above him, finding it easier not to meet her eyes as he shared part of his background
that was always so hard.

But he turned
to check her expression after he spoke.

Helen’s face
didn’t change, and her eyes were still infinitely gentle. “You don’t hear from
him now?”

“The last time
we were in touch was after Dad died. He sold out his share of the house and
grounds to me. I try to keep tabs on him—to make sure he’s doing all right.
He’s in Seattle. But he’s showed no signs wanting to mend fences.”

Her lips parted,
and Andrew could almost hear her next question.
Why? What made Michael so
angry?
To his relief, she didn’t ask it. Instead, she murmured, “Geoffrey
left next, I think.”

“Yes. Geoff left
about six months later. He was a sophomore in college, and he fell in love and
wanted to get married. She wasn’t a Christian, and Dad thought he was too young
anyway. He kept trying to talk Geoff out of it.”

“They fought?”

Andrew thought
back. “Not really. I mean, Geoff just won’t fight. He’s not intense and fiery
like Michael, and he’s not even like me.”

“Hard-headed
and infuriating?” Helen asked, her voice teasing and almost intimate.

Andrew softened
into a smile. “Right. Geoff has always been really laidback, almost to the
point of laziness. We were all amazed that he made it through medical school so
successfully, since he never worked very hard growing up. But the thing about
Geoff is that, once he sets his mind to something, he’s immovable. He doesn’t
fight. He just ignores all obstacles. I can’t tell you how much that enraged
Michael and I growing up. He wouldn’t fight with us—no matter what we did to
provoke him. He just wouldn’t change his mind. That’s how he’s had such a successful
career. He just plows through on the path he decides on, no matter what
threatens to hold him back.”

“So once he
decided he wanted to get married…” Helen prompted.

“He just did
it, no matter what anyone else said. Dad had never threatened to disown him or
anything, but he gave him such a hard time that Geoff just stopped coming
home.”

“What was
Geoff’s wife like?”

He realized
that Helen must know about Geoff’s wife’s death, since she used the past tense.
“She was pretty and sweet and kind of clingy. I can see why she appealed to
him. As I said, she wasn’t a Christian, and Geoff kind of dropped away too
eventually.”

He closed his
eyes again, torn between taking comfort in sharing all of this with Helen and
feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable from opening up in a way he almost never
did.

After a pause, she
said softly, “And that leaves you.”

“That leaves
me.” He took a moment, trying to get his words together. “My mother left us
when I was twelve. Then Michael left. Then Geoffrey left. And Dad, of course,
was torn up about the way we’d fallen apart. I felt like my family had
disintegrated, and I had nothing left.”

He cleared his
throat, finding it very difficult to say the next thing to Helen, when all he
wanted to do was impress her and earn her admiration. “I was young. Just in
college. And I think in some ways I’d been spoiled. Things had always come
easily for me—school, friends, sports, whatever. I was used to being able to…to
fix things in my world to my satisfaction. And then suddenly I’d lost
everything and couldn’t do anything to fix it.”

His face
twisted slightly as he concluded. “I gave up. I couldn’t keep coming back here
and remembering everything I didn’t have anymore. And I was angry with God for
stripping it all from me. Taking it away so unjustly, I thought.”

“I can only
imagine how hard that must have been. You were what, twenty-one?”

“Yeah. So I
just started over—gave up on Cane completely. I never really gave up on my
faith—I just put it indefinitely on hold because I stupidly didn’t think God
deserved my loyalty. I kept in touch with my Dad. I never hated him, and I was
basically all he had left. But I couldn’t bring myself to visit Cane again. He
came to see me quite a bit.”

“I didn’t know
that.”

“Yeah. I guess
the story around here is that we all cut our ties completely. But I didn’t. I
couldn’t. Geoff and I are still close. And, of course, once Mom died, Melissa
came to stay with me.” To his relief, Helen had looked up at the sky so she
wasn’t staring at him while he’d made such a naked confession. It made it
easier, somehow.

Now that it was
said, he didn’t regret it.

“Is that why
you never started a family of your own?” Helen asked at last, her voice oddly
tentative. “Because you’d lost yours so painfully?”

Andrew looked
back over at her and recognized she was nervous about the question, worried
that he wouldn’t respond to it well. Her anxiety comforted him, made him
realize she wasn’t in control of this either, that he wasn’t the only one
feeling his way blindly in this conversation.

He thought
about her question before he answered it. “Maybe. Not consciously. I never made
a conscious decision not to get married. I dated a lot until the last few
years. I just never found anyone I wanted to marry. But, in some ways, I think
you’re right. That was what was holding me back. I couldn’t take the risk of
starting my own family if it might fall apart on me like it did before. Now, I
think…” He trailed off, as a realization hit him out of the blue.

For the last
few years, he’d been growing in his desire for a wife and family, and now he
desperately wanted one. He could picture himself with a wife—maybe like Helen. Maybe
a few children. The image was so powerful, so vivid, his chest ached for it.

“Now, you think
what?” Helen asked, following up on his last broken thought.

He couldn’t
bring himself to tell her, since she was too closely aligned to the heart of
his own desires. He was still too confused about too many things, and he had no
idea how Helen felt about him anyway.

He smiled at
her and shook his head. “What about your family? Any deep confessions?” His
words were light, but he really wanted to know. He wondered if she’d be willing
to share with him the way he had with her. Desperately hoped she would.

Her eyes
drifted away from him, and she made a reluctant face. “There’s not much to tell
about my family. My parents loved me, and I loved them. We were blessed not to
have anything more than the run-of-the-mill conflicts and arguments.”

“Your mom died
a few years ago?”

Her smile was
sad as met his eyes again. “Yeah. It was a heart-attack, and none of us
expected it. So now it’s just me and my Dad.” She swallowed visibly. “And, one
day, my Dad will die too, and then it will be just me.”

He saw tears in
her eyes before she turned away. Andrew’s throat ached for her, at the fear he
recognized underlying her simple words.

Able to do
nothing else, he reached over and ran his fingers lightly over the back of her
hand, which was resting on her belly.

She turned back
to him, smiling again, obviously recovered from the brief swell of emotion.
“Thanks.”

His chest
warmed at the knowledge that his silent attempt at comfort had meant something
to her, had helped her. In so many ways, he felt like he had nothing
significant to offer her, but maybe that wasn’t true.

“I’m surprised
you haven’t started a family of your own,” he said, pleased his voice sounded
natural. He was a little nervous at the comment, understanding now why Helen
had looked anxious when she’d asked him something similar.

She gave a
little snort. “I’m not entirely in control of that.”

“What do you
mean?”

Staring at him
like he was crazy, she said, “Well, in order to start my own family, I’d have
to find a man who wants to start a family with
me
.”

When he
realized what she was talking about, Andrew’s lips parted slightly in surprise.
“Surely, that isn’t a problem for you.”

“Do you see men
lining up at my door to ask me out? Much less ask me to marry them?”

“Well—” Andrew
cut himself off before he said what first came to mind. He could think of at
least two men who were obviously interested in her now. But since one of them
was him, the comment might make a rather awkward situation.

“I’ve never
been the kind of girl that guys are into,” she said, with a little sigh of
resignation that was almost heartbreaking in its finality and acceptance.

“I don’t
believe you,” he said, before he thought through the wisdom of the words.

She gave him a
slightly annoyed look. “I’m not lying to you. I can count on one hand the
number of men I’ve dated in my entire life. I’m not saying anything is wrong
with me. I’m just saying that nobody wants me.”

Andrew could
hardly wrap his mind around what she’d told him so bluntly. She was beautiful,
intelligent, funny, and so sweet. She obviously loved deeply and with
unwavering commitment. She lived her life in response to her deep faith.

What else would
a man want in a woman, in a wife, in the mother of his children? How was it
that every man in the world hadn’t recognized what he’d seen so quickly? Surely
they weren’t all deceived by her the quiet composure or her retiring demeanor.
Her nature shone, it glowed, with a radiance that couldn’t be hidden.

“Well, you
don’t have to stare at me like I’m some sort of freak,” she muttered
eventually, blushing more deeply than she had before. “I promise I’m not the
only woman in the world who has been socially overlooked, for no particular
reason.”