Wind Over Marshdale (32 page)

 

Con smiled. He was having trouble containing it, this excitement he was feeling right now. Rachel was sitting beside him in church. Now God would speak to her heart and she would want to share his faith and all the worry and guilt and fear would be ended.

The roads coming into Marshdale had not been the best this morning and he'd been a little late picking her up. They'd slipped in during the first song and found a seat at the back. It was probably better this way anyway, since it was her first time. There was no fuss or introductions to deal with, and since they were sitting right at the back he could hold her hand for the entire sermon and no one would even see.

She sure seemed nervous, though. Hopefully the singing and the message would calm her. He squeezed her hand and glanced over, hoping to communicate his assurance with his eyes. Hers looked panicked.

“I need to leave immediately. I don't feel well,” Rachel whispered into his ear as soon as the service was over.

Con raised his eyebrows in question. “I was kind of hoping to introduce you to a few people.” “Please?” Rachel begged, her eyes pleading.

He nodded. It wasn't exactly the response he had hoped for, but at least she'd come. It was a start. Maybe she was just feeling some conviction. He took her by the hand and tried to rush her through the milling bodies that had already started congregating in the foyer.

“Thomas!” Con called, seeing his friend entering the building. “I didn't see you in church today.”

“I couldn't make it myself, but I dropped the kids off,” Thomas explained walking toward Con. Suddenly he stopped, as if seeing who was by his friend's side for the first time. He blinked.

“I'm sure you two have met,” Con said, “since Whisper's in kindergarten.”

Thomas was staring down at their clasped hands. “So this is your girlfriend?” His voice seemed strained. Tight. Angry, even.

Con frowned. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Is that a problem?”

“Ask her.”

Con turned to Rachel. “What does he mean?”

“Let's just go,” Rachel replied, her voice small and forlorn.

“No, I want to know what he means,” Con persisted.

“This probably isn't the time or the place,” Rachel said. “Please? I—I don't want to cause a scene.”

“I'd listen to her,” Thomas advised. “You won't want this crowd eavesdropping.”

Con watched Thomas stalk away in search of his children. There were a couple of people standing nearby whose own conversations had become inexplicably quiet. A horrible sick feeling landed in his stomach.

He set his mouth into a determined line and maneuvered himself and Rachel through the rest of the people and out into the fresh air. He didn't release her hand until she was safely stowed in his truck. When he got in on his own side he let out a pent up breath.

“So? Are you going to tell me now or are you going to tell me at your place?”

“Let's drive,” Rachel replied. “I'll tell you on the way.”

****

Rachel swallowed. A lump had formed in her throat. Never in her wildest dreams had she considered that Con and Thomas might know each other, let alone be friends. It was just the kind of sadistic joke that was the byline of her life.

“So?” Con prompted.

Rachel licked her lips. “Thomas and I were kind of seeing each other awhile back. That's all.”

The information obviously took Con by surprise. His eyebrows shot up and he remained silent for several seconds. “Oh,” was all he finally uttered.

“I guess he's still bitter about it,” she added.

“And that's it?”

Rachel shrugged. “I'm not sure what else you expect me to say. It's not like it was serious or anything. I mean, we went out a couple of times, but we didn't sleep together if that's what you're worried about.” The fact that she'd come close—even pushed herself on him, wasn't something she was going to volunteer.

“Wow. I don't exactly know what to say. I feel kind of jealous, I'll admit, but it's not quite as bad as I feared.” He thought for a minute and frowned. “When was this?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Rachel hedged. “If you recall, there was a time when you basically ignored me. What was I supposed to do? Sit home and keep waiting?”

“And before that?”

“It wasn't like you'd staked a claim or anything.”

Con was silent and kept on driving.

“You passed my corner,” Rachel pointed out.

“I know,” Con clipped. “We've got some other things to talk about.”

Rachel looked out her window. Why did the prospect of spending time alone with Con not send thrills up her spine like it might have just hours ago?

“What did you think of church?” Con asked with no preamble.

“Um, it was okay.”

“You seemed nervous. Preoccupied.”

“Is that what we're doing?” Rachel asked. “You're going to grill me about church?”

“I'm not grilling you. I just need to know where you stand. It's important to me.”

“Where I stand? What do you mean?”

“You know. In terms of the Bible and your belief in God,” Con explained.

“I told you,” Rachel replied, her voice taking on a slightly defensive edge. “I don't exactly know what I believe when it comes to religion, but you're welcome to believe whatever you want. I can live with that.”

Con's lips were clamped shut and he released a frustrated breath from his nose. “But I'm not sure I can.”

“Now you're scaring me.” Rachel allowed a nervous giggle to bubble forth in hopes that it would lighten the tension that had taken over the interior of the truck. His expression didn't change.

“I've thought more than once about throwing it all away, you know. Everything I believe in. Heck, I could drive out to my place right now and we could make love all afternoon. I'm only a man, Rachel, not a saint.” He looked over to see her reaction. “And I think if I suggested it, you might just agree. Neither of us are virgins, I know, and everybody's doing it, right? So big deal. But then I remember I've been bought with a price. It's why we're warned not to be ‘unequally yoked.' The temptation is just too great and sooner or later we might fall away from God.”

“So what you're saying is, you choose God over me,” Rachel said, her voice tight.

“Something like that, if it comes down to it,” Con agreed. He glanced her way again. “Look, I'm not trying to hurt you. Lord knows I care about you more deeply than is good for me. Which is my point. I think I love you, in fact, but I love God, too.”

“So why can't you just love us both?” Rachel asked.

“Like I said, the temptation to sin is too great. I'm not sure how much longer I can go without giving in. And after this morning, well… you're not exactly following my master plan.”

“And what plan would that be?”

“I thought once you came to church you'd get it. You'd want to get saved. Then we could get married. I want to make love to you, Rachel, but not till we're man and wife. I see now how premature and childish that idea was.” There was a foreboding silence. “It appears by the look on your face I've blown it,” Con said.

“No, it appears that this is all about you,” Rachel came back at him. “Basically, what you're saying is, you were trying to manipulate me.”

“Not manipulate,” Con countered. “I just want what's best.”

“For you or me?” Rachel fumed. “In the end it's about getting what you want. Well, what about what I want? What if I don't want to get ‘saved' as you put it? What if I think all this religious crap is a delusion—a crutch to keep you from facing the real world?”

“Rachel, I'm sorry. I know you're hurt. And I know I've screwed up here, but now that it's all out in the open, I think we can work it out. I can't help thinking God put you in my life for a reason.”

“And you've got some kind of corner on what God wants?” Rachel scoffed. “First you make it sound like you want to break up with me and now you're telling me God brought us together. Make up your mind!”

“I'm just confused!” Con thumped his hand on the steering wheel.

“You and me both,” Rachel replied tightly. “You know, I thought you were different. But all men are the same. None of you can be trusted.”

“I don't know who hurt you in the past to make you say that, but you need to know I'm not that man. I'm not purposely trying to hurt you, but I have to be honest. I can't keep living with false hope if there isn't any.”

Rachel blinked, the sting in her eyes a sure sign of tears to follow. Crying was the last thing she wanted to do. It would make her seem weak and right now she wanted to be strong. The one in control for a change.

“False hope,” she repeated, making the words sound like a mockery. “Hope of what? That you can finally get a piece of me? That's pathetic, even for a so-called Christian. Is that why Christians get married? To keep their sexual impulses from running away with them?”

“You're twisting my words,” Con shot back. “I never said that was the only reason I wanted to get married. I also said I think I'm in love with you.”

“Nothing but words,” Rachel scoffed. “Maybe what I need is some action. I want to have sex with you—today. Right now. My place, your place—doesn't matter. Make a choice, Con. Prove you love me with your actions.” She knew it was a risky maneuver—one that could easily backfire. But right now she needed to know that she was more important than anything else, even his God.

There was silence in the cab for far too long. A sinking feeling began to overtake Rachel as she realized his answer even before it came. “I can't do that.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She wanted to lash out and hurt him the way he was hurting her. “Too bad,” she said, flipping her hair back. “I don't know what a girl has to do around here to get a piece of tail. I almost made it with Thomas, you know. And he would have, too, if I hadn't stopped him.”

“Don't do this,” Con said, shaking his head.

“Do what? Tell you the truth? The truth is I was seeing both of you at the same time. Bet you didn't know that.”

A deep and weary sigh escaped Con's lips. He had been driving around the streets of Marshdale and was back on Mrs. Beatry's street. He pulled up in front of the house and let the vehicle idle. There would be no steamy good-byes this time. “I hate to let it end like this. Maybe I'll call you later and we can talk again when we're not quite so upset.”

“Don't bother,” Rachel clipped, stepping down from the truck.

She slammed the door shut and strode toward the house. Angry tears ran unchecked down her face and she glared at the crack in the curtains. With finality, she unlocked her apartment, closing the door on the sound of Con's truck speeding away.

****

Con sat alone in his living room, a football game blaring on TV. He didn't even know the score. He kept replaying Rachel's last remarks over and over and over again until he had every word memorized. Each time burned more than the last. Initially, his anger and jealousy had been directed at Thomas, but his brain told him that the other man was probably not to blame. Thomas had seemed genuinely surprised to see them together at church, and he remembered him mentioning something about a recent relationship that hadn't worked out. Now he knew what that meant.

How could he have managed to misread her so completely? She seemed shy and innocent—naïve even. Boy, was he wrong! He had imagined himself a knight in shining armor, with a mission from God to rescue her from her insecurities and point her toward a new life as a Christian. Of course, along the way, he would ignite her dormant passions as well and make her fall in love with him. He had felt her passionate side. Apparently it wasn't as well buried as he'd thought.

That hurt. A picture of Rachel and Thomas together kept flashing in his mind. He wondered how much of what she'd said was fact and how much was just lashing out. Somewhere, deep inside, hope still lingered. Maybe with enough time and some counseling, they could work things out. He knew he needed to talk to someone—pray with someone, before he went crazy.

The shortened days meant darkness descended quite early, so despite the blackness outside it really wasn't too late to head into town. He phoned Pastor Todd and Carol said he was at the church. A call there came up empty, but Todd often let the answering machine screen his calls, so Con didn't think too much of it. Todd's cell phone also went to an automatic messaging center. The thought of a solitary ride under the inky sky was rather appealing, though, whether Todd was available to talk to or not.

When Con reached the church, a sliver of light coming from Todd's office window sliced across the parking lot. Just as he suspected. Todd spent a lot of time there. Con let himself into the church. A sudden and uncanny sense of deja vu overtook him as he approached the closed office door. The hair on the back of Con's neck stood on end. He raised his fist to knock, hesitating for a moment before letting it land with a crisp rap.

“Who's there?” Todd called from within.

“It's Con.”

“Just a minute.” After a bit of shuffling the pastor unlocked the door. “What can I do for you?”

“Sorry for disturbing you,” Con said. “I just wanted to talk. I can come back later if you're busy.”

“Um …” Todd hesitated, his eyes flickering to his laptop for a second and then back to Con. “Of course we can talk. If you'll just excuse me for a minute? I'll be right back.”

Todd went in the direction of the washrooms, leaving Con alone in the office. He was too agitated himself to sit just yet, so his gaze wandered about, lighting here and there on various book titles, a framed certificate, and a photo of Todd and his family sitting prominently on the desk top. Todd's laptop was on the desk, too, safely shut, but still running. Con glanced at the door, then back at the laptop. An uncharacteristic curiosity was tugging at him to open the lid and see what Todd was working on so late on a Sunday night.

One more glance at the door, and Con rounded the desk. Without further hesitation he flipped open the lid. Within milli-seconds the screen assaulted him with a still image of two naked women, a small wheel on the screen spinning in readiness to continue the video.

He snapped the lid shut and jumped away from the desk, his mind reeling. The still image was burned into his psyche. What would the video version do? He heard Todd returning so he lowered himself into one of the chairs in front of the desk and took a deep breath.

So,” Pastor Todd began, finding his own seat behind the desk. He looked much more in control than he had earlier. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” Todd asked.

“Actually, it's not that important,” Con said, letting a pent up breath escape.

“Really?” Todd raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. I just saw your light on and thought I'd stop by,” Con said. “Everything okay with you?”

“Yes, I think so.” Todd nodded and smiled.

Wow. He thought he knew this man. Apparently he was in for more than one case of mistaken identity today. What in the world was he supposed to do now? Confront him? Tell the board? Just keep his mouth shut? Maybe there was a perfectly logical explanation for a pornographic site to pop up on the pastor's computer. He'd heard of this type of thing happening before when a hacker gained access to one's internet account. One thing was certain, his own issues seemed trivial in light of what he'd just seen.

“Well, I gotta go.” Con stood, awkwardness filling every fiber of his being.
Coward.
He didn't feel ready for any of the options. He'd just go home and pray about it.

But later, on the drive home, all he could think to say was, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” This was way beyond his realm of experience. His whole entire world had just come crashing down.