Chapter Twenty-Five
NICK SCOWLED EVEN as he let Julia in his front door. He knew.
She had a “well, duh” moment. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that in her alarm Mom would have called him right away, probably Thursday evening after the dinner-table discussion? She’d have been mad he hadn’t warned her about his sister’s foolishness, and wanted his take on the whole thing besides.
Not, Julia thought, that she could have won either way. If Nick had had any suspicion of how serious she was about this, he’d have called Mom or Dad to give them the heads-up and demand they talk Julia out of her idiotic scheme.
“Hi, Nick,” she said with extra cheeriness. “It’s nice to see you. Mom and Dad looked great. Mom may have retired, but she’s not letting that slow her down.”
The look he gave her combined annoyance and rueful amusement. “It’s pretty obvious that Mom’s just figured out another way she can run the whole show. Next thing we know, she’ll be president of the board of trustees. If they have such a thing.”
“They must, but I have no idea what it’s called.”
“Julia . . .”
“Can we work at getting dinner on the table before we argue? I’m starved.”
After a miserable drive from Kansas City, she’d gone to her apartment to leave her suitcase but not even stopped to change clothes before coming straight here, per brotherly demand. She was rumpled, her hair falling out of ties, and she was tired. Not like there was a choice unless she’d wanted to take a hop on a small plane. Naturally, she was white-knuckled behind the wheel in city and busy freeway traffic.
I might not be driving at all for very long.
Great—except she’d be petrified the first time she took a horse and buggy out on her own, too.
Could she buy a decent horse and buggy for the money she’d get selling the used car she’d bought such a short time ago? She didn’t have a clue what either cost.
Dinner was pretty much a repeat of the first evening with her parents, except Nick wasn’t surprised.
“I just don’t get it. You can be friends with any of the Amish without joining their church. You’ve got a nice place to live, a job you claim to like.”
“I can keep the job. Unmarried Amishwomen often hold jobs. But if I were ever to marry, I’d be happy staying home to raise my children. I’m not . . . driven like you are, Nick. I never have been.”
“Never?”
She knew what he meant, didn’t even mind his raising the subject. “Never,” she repeated. “Even before the assault, I didn’t know what I wanted to major in. I vaguely thought of aiming for graduate school to become a librarian, probably just because Mom was one and talked about it, plus you know how big a reader I am. I was enjoying college, but mostly because I felt like I was finally an adult. Out on my own.”
Even Nick smiled at that. Living in a dorm and taking classes, all paid for by your parents, didn’t qualify you as an adult, not by a long shot.
“Nick.” She reached across the table and touched his hand. He turned his over and clasped her hand. “When I’m with the Amish, I feel as if I’ve come home. I don’t know why that is, but it’s that simple. Would it really be so bad? I’d stay local, and we could see each other whenever we want.”
“Could we?”
“Well, we wouldn’t be going to church together.”
He sighed.
“You’ll still love me if I do this, won’t you?”
“Blast it, Julia! Of course I would. I just can’t help feeling . . .”
Surprised by his tone, she asked, “Feeling what?”
He ran a hand over his head. “That this is my fault. If I could have caught that lowlife—”
She blinked. “I wouldn’t be drawn to the Amish? Um, I don’t quite see the connection.”
“You could have healed,” he said roughly. “It’s as if you couldn’t. You got stuck partway.”
“That may be true, but don’t you see? I am healing now. I’m starting to let go of my fears. I even—” Whoa! Not somewhere she wanted to go with her brother.
His eyes narrowed, seeing past her defenses. “You even what? Tell me, Julia.”
Oh, why not? she thought recklessly.
“A man kissed me, and I enjoyed it. I wasn’t scared, Nick. Do you know what a miracle that is for me?”
He leaned forward, his gaze more piercing yet. “What man?”
“Not your business.”
“Who?”
She grinned at him. “Don’t be nosy. And really, it doesn’t matter anyway. What does matter is that it happened. I’m shaking off the past, Nick. Can’t you be happy for me?”
“It was your boss, wasn’t it? That Luke Bowman. I saw the way he looked at you.”
Hope stirred in her, because even at the beginning, she’d been aware of Luke, and able to tell he was equally aware of her.
But she only rolled her eyes. “Not telling you.”
“Humph.”
Julia waited.
A slow change came over his face. The skin crinkled beside his eyes, and his mouth lifted into a crooked smile. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “I can be happy for you. I just don’t want to lose you.”
Naturally, tears sprang into her eyes. She had to grab her napkin and blow her nose. Her smile trembled when she said, “You won’t. I swear you won’t.”
“Okay.” He shoved back his chair and came around the table, still holding on to her hand. He tugged her to her feet, too, and then bent to press an astonishingly gentle kiss to her forehead.
If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d just given her his blessing.
Of course, he couldn’t resist saying, “You know, you don’t have to do this.”
Julia laughed.
LUKE REINED HIS gelding into the alley Tuesday morning. Julia’s familiar car wasn’t there.
He often beat her here, he told himself. There was no reason to worry yet. He knew he was here earlier than usual, and didn’t bother pulling out his pocket watch. Daad was probably still sipping his coffee at home.
She’d be along, or maybe she’d left a phone message apologizing and saying she’d be back tomorrow.
But the bands constricting his chest didn’t loosen.
Even hoping this way was flat-out stupid, but how could he help himself? And that scared him. He had a big problem where she was concerned. What, he imagined if he kept scrabbling until his fingers were bloody and his nails torn, he’d find a solution? There was only one within his power, and he knew it. When he returned to his faith, this vulnerable yet strong and compassionate woman was part of what he’d given up. He just hadn’t known it then. Was he now to say, No reason I can’t toss that commitment aside?
From long practice, he removed the harness quickly and slung the collar over the fence rail. Freed, Charlie shook his head vigorously, sending his lush black mane and droplets of sweat flying. Luke tossed some hay into the manger and topped off the water before crossing the alley to the back door.
Inside, he stopped, painfully aware of the silence. He shouldn’t have driven himself today; it would have been better if he arrived with his father. Luke had made an excuse because he’d feared he couldn’t hide his increasingly bleak mood from his father. Daad had the gift of reading him all too easily.
He put his bagged lunch in the small refrigerator and prepared to start work. His concentration ragged, he’d been remarkably unproductive this past week. He’d quietly put that handsome slab of elm away in the timber room, given that the right idea for what to do with it refused to gel in his head.
Thinking he heard a car engine in the alley, he turned to face the back door and waited, not breathing. Sure enough, a key scraped in the lock, and the door swung open. Julia stepped in, her fiery hair backlit by the morning sun, her gaze going straight to him. She looked . . . as disturbed as he felt.
It was the first time in weeks he’d let himself openly stare at her. “You’re here,” he said inanely.
“I told Eli I’d be back to work today.”
“Or Wednesday, he said.”
“That was just in case . . .” She shook her head.
“You look tired.” He should have kept his mouth shut, pretended not to notice.
She hadn’t moved since she set eyes on him. “I am,” she said quietly. “The week was . . . hard.”
“But you were home with your parents.”
“I know.” This twisty little smile hurt to look at. “They had dreams for me that will never happen. I hoped they’d understand, but they don’t.”
What did that mean? He shouldn’t ask; he should get to work and let her go out front and start on hers. She’d probably need all day to catch up.
But something alien overcame him. This much he could have: the answer to a question that had haunted him from first meeting her. “Will you tell me what happened?”
Obviously startled, she said, “You mean, with my parents?”
“No. Why you seem sad when you think you’re alone and don’t have to pretend. Why you dress as though you want to be invisible. Why . . .” No, he couldn’t ask why she was afraid of him.
Really, he hadn’t needed to ask the question at all. He knew the answer, just not the details. How would learning those details help?
She looked away for a minute. Said, voice low and scratchy, “I thought you weren’t talking to me anymore.”
“I shouldn’t.” His hands were knotted in fists, he realized, and with effort loosened them.
“When I tell them, people look at me differently.”
“Tell me anyway.”
She made an odd sound. “Oh, why not. What do I have to lose?”
Her resignation intensified the ache in his chest.
“I was raped, then beaten. I . . . we think he was trying to kill me. He came close. I was in a coma for two days. I remember parts of it, but not the end, and not his face. The police believe he was someone I knew, or at least would have seen around. They wanted me to identify him, but how could I?”
In so few words, she’d said so much. Luke wanted in the worst way to put his arms around her, but it wasn’t hard to tell from how she held herself, arms tight to her body, that she wouldn’t welcome any touch. Telling him had thrown her back to the worst moments of her life.
No wonder she was afraid of men.
And he didn’t dare touch her anyway.
“He was never arrested,” he said hoarsely.
She shook her head.
“How old were you?” Not a child, he prayed.
Gazing toward the far wall, not him, she said in a low voice, “Nineteen. It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college. I was subletting an apartment because I’d taken a job for the summer with the financial aid department. I came home after being out with friends, and I forgot to lock the door. Or . . . that’s what they think. He didn’t have to break in.” Her desperate gaze returned to his. “The police kept drilling on that. Had I invited somebody? Or hinted that I might welcome him?”
“No.” Luke took a step toward her. “You know none of that is true. And if it was, so what? Flirting isn’t an invitation for a man to rape you and hurt you.”
Her shoulders hunched, and once again she averted her eyes. It might not be conscious, but more than ever she was trying to shrink, to disappear before his very eyes. Guilt seized him. He had done this to her. What had he been thinking? That it would help her to relive an event so horrible, she would forever carry the wounds? Or had he merely been indulging his curiosity?
No, he could absolve himself of that. His need had gone deeper than that.
“Julia.” Her name sounded as if he’d scraped it over gravel.
She said suddenly, “I hear your father. I have to get to work.” She rushed toward him, compelling him to step aside, and yanked open the interior door. Before he could so much as turn, she was gone.
He stood stock-still, filled with rage and so much else on her behalf. Even if she’d lied about hearing his father coming, Luke knew she wouldn’t want him to follow her.
In that minute, his faith in a loving God was shaken to the point of breaking. Had that vicious attack been God’s will? Luke wasn’t sure he could bear to think so.
Panting, each breath harsh, his entire body shaking, Luke imagined trying to forgive the monster that had hurt her.
No, God asked too much.
INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL TO see the pile of work waiting for her, Julia booted the computer from its nearly weeklong rest and immersed herself in bringing the accounting up to date. Along the way, she noted which pieces of furniture had sold so she could remove them from the website, if they’d been on there. She’d have to tour the showroom, too, to look for additions she needed to photograph.
Of course, her mind wandered.
She’d had no problem last night telling her brother she wasn’t going to satisfy his curiosity, so why hadn’t she done the same with Luke? This was the guy who’d pretended she wasn’t there for something like two weeks. Why hadn’t she pulled out the tried and true and said, Not your business?
She blinked a few times and focused again on the columns of numbers showing on the monitor. She couldn’t let herself think about that strange interaction with Luke. Not now.
Twenty minutes after she’d begun, Eli popped out to welcome her back. No surprise, she didn’t set eyes on Luke again the rest of the day. She and Eli left at the same time, Eli not commenting on his son’s early departure, her not asking about it.
Only later, trying to will herself to sleep, did Julia try to picture the expression on Luke’s face as she’d told him her story. All she knew for certain was that he’d felt something powerful. Surely not rage. How would that be compatible with his beliefs?
Not disgust, either; he’d been insistent that none of what happened was her fault. Remembering that much gave her comfort. Her parents and Nick had said the same, as had the counselor she saw for nearly a year once she was able to drive herself again. But with the police, there’d always been an undertone. She’d heard other rape victims say the same.
One careless moment, her arms full when she’d gotten home, and it was her fault she’d been assaulted.
She looked toward the faintly lit rectangle of her bedroom window and had a puzzled thought. In the past, she felt dirty when she told someone about the worst thing that had ever happened to her, knowing he or she would never see her the same again. This time . . . she’d felt almost cleansed, as if telling Luke had allowed her to let go of subterranean emotions she didn’t even like to acknowledge.
Or maybe it wasn’t Luke at all. Maybe in examining her relationship with God, she had found some peace.
Her heart felt . . . warm, as if it contained a glowing coal. Of course she could forgive the man who’d attacked her! she realized in astonishment. All she’d ever had to do was let go of her anger and resentment. She’d blamed him for all her fears, all her anguish, but she might have been freed much sooner if she had done as God asked of her and forgiven a man so troubled. Wanting him to be caught so he didn’t hurt other women, that was different. But what she’d done was allow him to tower over everyone else in her life, casting a shadow so dark, she hadn’t been able to find the sunlight.
Or hear God’s voice. Psalms 27:1 said it best: The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid?
And yet she’d let herself fear so much.
The most astonishing peace swept through her, as if that glowing coal in her chest spread warmth until even her fingers and toes tingled.
Dear Lord, she prayed, if vengeance is needed, I trust that to You. I pray that the rapist was never caught because he never did such a terrible thing again. I pray he horrified himself, and in seeking to forgive himself, found You, and some peace.
Tears stung her eyes, but felt good, too, as if needed to complete the cleansing begun by answering Luke’s questions and seeing the power of his response.
By forgiving her attacker, she dismissed him from the dominance he’d held over her life ever since.
Julia drew in a deep breath that expanded her lungs to an extent that dizzied her. The man whose face she couldn’t see receded in her mind, became small and faraway, a last glimpse seen in the rearview mirror as she accelerated down a highway. No longer important.
She wished she could tell Luke how she felt, but that would have to wait.
At peace with her decision, she knew what she had to do tomorrow.