7

Trevor dug into his pocket for his cell, pulled it out, and groaned. Dead. He’d forgotten to charge it. He rushed to the nurses’ desk, but the attending nurse was on the phone. Trevor drummed his fingers on the counter. Where was his mom?

“May I help you?” The gray-haired nurse wearing purple scrubs spoke as she hung up the phone, her expression gentle yet alert.

Trevor glanced at her ID badge. “Yes, please, Ms. Jenkins.” He straightened. “I’m looking for my mother, Laureen Hiebert. She was in room 322.”

“You must be Trevor. She and your father were quite concerned when they couldn’t reach you. She was discharged a couple hours ago and left for home.”

“So she’s OK?” He couldn’t keep the worry and doubt from his voice.

“They asked me to give you this.” Ms. Jenkins handed him a folded note.

Trevor tried to read her expression, but it held only professional compassion. “Thanks.” He didn’t open it until the elevator doors closed behind him. His fingers trembled as he unfolded the note.

Praise God, there’s no tumor. Not sure yet what’s causing the dizzy spells. More tests later. We’re on our way home. Come out when you can. Love, Mom and Dad.

Relief wrestled with bitterness. No tumor? Great. Praise God? Not a chance. He clenched his jaw as he retraced his steps to his truck.

His mom was still vulnerable, and God let people die.

~*~

“It’s good to be home.” His mother’s voice sounded weak, but her face shone. “Have you made a decision yet about Toronto?”

Trevor perched on the edge of the afghan-covered couch. So typical of Mom, to be more concerned with others than herself. “No. I’m still on the fence. This opportunity is fantastic, something I’ve only dreamed about, but I don’t want to leave you guys in the lurch.” He looked from his mother to his father. “What would you do? If you were me?”

Dad cleared his throat and shifted in his big, black recliner. “Well, son, if fear for us is the only thing keeping you from your dreams, I’d say go for it. But if you’re running from something or Someone, it won’t work.”

Stunned, Trevor couldn’t formulate an answer. Was he running? Sure, he’d like to get away from the discomfort he felt whenever his folks or Carlos talked about God. But he couldn’t ignore his family’s needs. Or was it an excuse to avoid the challenges that such a big change would bring?

“We’ve been praying for you, son. Can we pray with you right now?” Dad leaned forward and clasped his hands as though already praying.

Trevor couldn’t refuse, no matter how much he wanted to. “Yeah, OK.” He closed his eyes and hoped his parents would do the same. He wasn’t at all sure he could hide his discomfort.

“Father God, You know all things. You know our hearts, and You know our weaknesses. We praise You for the good news that Laureen does not have cancer. You are good, oh Lord, and what You do is good. Now we bring Trevor to You. Give him courage to follow Your leading, we pray. The opportunity offered by the shop in Toronto sounds fantastic, as he will have more freedom to use the gifts You have given him. You know what You have planned for him, and we know You will be with him, whatever he decides. Thank You, Father.”

Trevor’s mind churned. Dad’s prayer seemed to pull him into the presence of God, and he didn’t want to go there. He didn’t dare. He opened his eyes. The expressions of peace on his parents’ faces magnified his turmoil. He looked down and squirmed, and the couch protested.

Then his mom’s soft voice soothed him, as it always could. “Dear Lord, thank You for Trevor, for bringing him into our home and making us a family. You trusted us with him, and now we entrust him to You. We love him dearly, and You love him even more. Give us all courage, I pray, in Jesus’s name.”

Did they expect him to pray too? He looked up. Both parents were looking at him with so much love, it made his heart ache. He should say something. He finally whispered, “Thanks.”

“You’ll stay for supper, won’t you?” Mom sat forward as though to get up. “We picked up pierogis and farmer sausage on the way home.”

“And I’ll cook them.” Dad pushed himself out of the chair. “You stay right there.”

Her sigh sounded dredged from the bottom of the river. “Yes, sir. I guess you can have my kitchen for a day or two. I am a little tired.”

“I’ll help. Haven’t had pierogis for months.” Trevor stood and followed his dad into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway and leaned back toward his mom. “Can I get you anything?”

“A glass of water would be nice. Thanks, son.”

Trevor filled a tall glass with water from the fridge and brought it to his mother. “Here you go.”

She reached up and placed her palm against his cheek. Her gaze held his. “Don’t let fear hold you back, dear boy. Follow your heart.”

Trevor’s throat constricted. He bent lower and brushed his lips against her forehead before escaping to the kitchen. Why did this decision have to be so hard? Could a restless heart be trusted? Maybe he should talk to someone impartial. But who? Work consumed his time and energy. He couldn’t think of anyone he’d trust to advise him.

He slit open the package of frozen pierogis and lifted the lid of the enameled red Dutch oven. Steam swirled out of the boiling water, nearly scalding him. Trevor dropped the lid with a clang and stared at the pot. Through the hot mist, its color triggered a memory of another shade of red. Spiky…red… hair.

“You all right?”

Trevor dumped the pierogis into the boiling water and grinned at his dad. “Yes, I am. After supper, I’ve got a call to make.”

~*~

Hayley leaned into Lydia’s embrace. Warm hands stroked her hair as Lydia whispered, her lips close to Hayley’s ear. “Thank you for sharing with us. I know it wasn’t easy, and we appreciate your trust. God loves you, dear child, and so do we.”

Pastor Dave cleared his throat. “May I cut in?”

Hayley smiled, disentangled herself from Lydia’s hug, and walked into the big man’s open arms. “Of course.”

He folded her close to his soft, cotton shirt, and Hayley relaxed into his pine-scented hug. She sniffled and blinked back tears. Why couldn’t her parents respond like this?

After a few moments, Dave opened one arm to include Lydia in a love huddle.

Hayley inhaled the life-giving elixir of their acceptance and opened her mouth to thank them but found herself praying aloud for the first time. “Thank You, Lord Jesus, for Pastor Dave and Lydia. Thank you for loving me through them and Nila, and for forgiving me.” She froze, stunned.

Dave and Lydia both squeezed her one more time and stepped back, questions in their eyes. Lydia spoke first. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Hayley gestured with both hands from her heart up into the air. “It’s gone! The pressure is gone.” Her mouth stretched into a wide grin. “I feel like dancing.”

Dave grabbed her hand, and Lydia took the other. “Then by all means, let’s dance.” He began to skip around the living room, pulling the two women behind him. Giggles bubbled up inside Hayley and erupted in laughter. Twice around the room they pranced, and then Hayley plopped into the couch while Dave sank into his recliner and Lydia took the glider.

Hayley massaged a muscle spasm in her leg while she caught her breath. “Whew! That was the most fun I’ve had in ages. You guys are the best. Thank you.”

“Our pleasure, my dear.” Pastor Dave beamed. “It’s been a while since I’ve skipped, but forgiveness is worth celebrating.”

“It sure is. Now it’s not just here, where it didn’t really help.” Hayley touched her forehead and then moved her hand to her chest. “It’s here too. I know in my heart I’m forgiven.” She sighed and shook her head. “You can’t imagine what a difference that makes.”

“Actually, we can. While we haven’t experienced the same trials you have, we do know what it’s like to need to be forgiven.” Dave’s deep voice rumbled. “And only God can free us from guilt. You are free, my child, and that makes this a blessed day.”

Hayley hugged her knees. “This has been the best day ever. I can’t imagine anything better…”

Her cell phone chimed from deep in her pocket.

~*~

The following evening, street lights blinked on as Trevor drove toward the address Hayley had given him. Echoes of their phone conversation still resonated, especially the tone of her voice. At first he’d thought he’d gotten the wrong number. The cheerful voice that answered didn’t sound like the withdrawn but intriguing woman he’d met on the plane. But she’d greeted him almost breathlessly, and he had to admit, that gave his ego a boost. So instead of asking her to meet him for coffee, as he’d planned, he’d offered dinner. He shook his head. What was it about this woman? One chance encounter and she’d wormed past his well-practiced defenses.

He slowed, checked the address, and pulled into the driveway of a well-kept, older, two-story house. As he stared at the door, Trevor inhaled deeply to calm his onset of nerves, but some kind of winged insects had taken up lodging in his throat. He grimaced and opened his door. It had simply been too long since he’d been on a date. So why were his legs as wobbly as a newborn calf’s as he climbed the front steps? He pushed the thought away and rang the doorbell.

A large, gray-haired man opened the door, one eyebrow raised. “You must be Trevor Hiebert. I’m Dave Harris. Come on in and have a seat. Hayley will be up in a minute or two.”

Oh, great. The old protective father bit. He cleared his throat and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.” He followed the man into the living room, lowered himself into a Mission-style rocker, and promptly stood again as a smiling Asian woman with gray-streaked black hair entered the room.

Dave’s face lit up as he introduced them. “Sweetheart, this is Trevor. Trevor, my wife, Lydia.”

Trevor took her extended hand in his. It was warm, her grip firm. “I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

Her smile widened. “And I’m happy to meet you. Please, have a seat and tell us about yourself. You met our Hayley on the flight from Toronto?”

He waited until the older couple sat on the couch before perching on the rocker. “Yes, we shared a row on the plane. I…” A door off the kitchen opened, and his words fled.

Hayley hesitated in the doorway, a vision in black slacks and a deep green sweater that echoed her brilliant green eyes. Eyes without shadows. And she looked relaxed, happy. Not like on the plane.

He stood. “Hello, Hayley. You look…really good.”

“Hi, Trevor. Thanks. You too.” She lowered her chin as she headed for the entry closet, but not before Trevor caught a glimpse of the blush blooming on her cheeks. Nice.

He pulled back his jacket sleeve and looked at his watch. “We’d better get going. Our reservation is for six.” He turned to Dave and Lydia. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Lydia’s smile widened as Trevor helped Hayley with her black wool coat. “You kids have a good time.”

He nodded to her and shook Dave’s hand.

“Take good care of her.” Dave patted Trevor on the back as he and Hayley headed out the door.

“I’ll do my best.” Although he’d spoken casually, the promise twisted his gut. What had he gotten himself into?

~*~

At the Italian restaurant, Trevor seated Hayley, and then sat down.

Hayley’s eyebrows lifted, and her cheeks bloomed pink. She looked down at the menu. ”It all looks good.” She shrugged her delicate shoulders. “I can’t decide what to order. Do you have any recommendations?”

“The lasagne’s good. That’s what I’m getting.”

“Sounds perfect.” She glanced down, shifted, and finally met his eyes again. “I’m really glad you phoned. I didn’t expect it.”

He smiled as he placed their menus on the edge of the table. “To tell you the truth, I have an ulterior motive.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned back, obviously wary. “Oh?”

“You know that job in Toronto I mentioned?”

Hayley nodded, her expression shuttered.

The waiter appeared at their table, and they both ordered lasagne with Caesar salad. “Very good. Anything else to drink? Coffee, or maybe some wine?”

“No, thanks. Water’s fine.”

“Just water for me too,” Hayley said, her attention on her full glass.

Once the waiter walked away, Trevor fiddled with his water glass as his mind raced. Where to start? His words came out in one long breath. “Toronto. You’re from there. What’s it like to live there? And what do you know about Lowrider Cycles?”

Hayley flinched and shrank back. Not a good start.

“I’m sorry. That sounded like an interrogation—not my intention.” He sighed. “It’s just that I’m struggling to decide whether to stay here and try to expand my custom work, or give Toronto a try.”

Hayley’s expression relaxed, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “That’s a huge decision. So what’s drawing you toward Toronto? The bigger city and customer base? Because Lowrider’s a busy shop, from what I’ve heard.”

Trevor nodded. “That’s one part of it. They have the equipment and space I need to build custom bikes better than anything I’ve done here. Our shop is too small and money’s too tight.”

“Then what’s the problem? Sounds like you’ve been offered the job of your dreams.”

He looked toward the ceiling as though he could find answers there. “It is. I think. But I’m not sure.”

“Why?”

His gaze turned to Hayley again, and he was momentarily distracted by the compassion in her bright green eyes, the soft glow on her face.

She fidgeted and lifted a hand as though to tuck her hair behind her ear. Then she blushed as she clasped her hands. “Old habit. I used to have long hair.”

That sparked his interest, and he opened his mouth to ask her about it, but she held up a hand. “You were going to tell me what’s holding you back.”

Right. Images of his mother, her arm in a cast, his father looking old and stooped, and Carlos with his generous encouragement but irritating preaching ran like a quick-time slide show through his mind. He grabbed the first reason. “My mom. Well, both my parents. They’d like to move off the farm, and they want me to take it over.”

“Do you want to?”

“I’d love to, eventually, with the right person.” With the right person? Where had that come from? Trevor shook his head. “But the timing…”

Movement from the side caught his attention, and they both leaned back as the waiter refilled their water glasses.

“Your order will be out in a few more minutes.” His attention lingered on Hayley’s face until she blushed and turned toward the dark window.

“Thank you,” Trevor said more curtly than he’d intended.

The waiter raised his eyebrows and left.

“Sorry about that. Sure hope his serving skills make up for his lack of manners. He made you uncomfortable, didn’t he?”

Color brightened her face as she met his gaze. “A little. But tell me more about the farm and your parents. Why do they want to leave it?”

His gut clenched. This was where it got tricky. How much did he want her to know? She was basically a stranger, but maybe it was a good thing. If this went sideways, there was no reason he’d have to see her again. Even though he already wanted to.

One arched eyebrow lifted as Hayley tilted her head. A tiny dimple appeared beside her mouth, then disappeared. Fascinating. Her lips curved upward. “I’m waiting.”

Trevor closed his eyes as heat rushed up the back of his neck. He needed to concentrate. And not on her face. “Sorry.” But he wasn’t, not really. “Um…my folks are getting older, and now with Mom’s injury…”

“What happened?” Her smile disappeared, and a line appeared across her forehead.

“She fell and broke her arm. I got the message at the airport—the emergency I mentioned on the way here.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. But is she all right other than that?”

Trevor sighed and focused on his water glass. “I don’t know. She’d been having dizzy spells, and that’s why she fell. The doctor says there’s no tumor, but I know Dad is worried. She needs extra help now, of course, and he’s already struggling with the upkeep around there. His age is catching up to him.”

“How old is he?”

“Dad’s seventy-two and Mom’s seventy-three.”

Hayley’s brow furrowed. “They must have been well into their forties when they had you.”

Trevor’s jaw clenched shut like a beaver trap. He should have known this would come up. Hayley Blankenship attracted him like no other woman he’d met, and he wanted to know her better. But how would she respond if he admitted the truth, that until the Hieberts took him in, he was nobody’s child?