9

Hayley opened one eye and squinted at the glowing red numbers of the bedside clock. Two-thirty. What had woken her? She strained to hear, but other than its usual creaking and the sound of the furnace blowing heat, the old house was quiet. She flopped back against her pillow and sighed.

Think about something pleasant, but what? Her date with Trevor Hiebert. Given the way he’d hurried out of the airport without a backward glance, she hadn’t expected to hear from him. So when she heard his voice on the phone, a thrill zinged through her.

She smiled in the darkness of her basement room. She would never forget the extra-hard thump of her heart when she came up the stairs and saw him talking to Dave and Lydia. His dark brown hair curled over the collar of his leather jacket, his posture straight but relaxed, and his worn denim jeans hugged his muscular thighs. The eyes she remembered as stormy gray seemed to glow like mercury when he’d spotted her.

She’d tried to forget the strong pull she’d felt on the plane, but the instant their eyes met in Dave and Lydia’s entrance hall, all her senses switched to high. She couldn’t have backed away if she’d tried. A deep, contented sigh bubbled up. Hayley closed her eyes, willing herself to dream about Trevor.

But just as she drifted toward sleep, a chilly breeze tickled her ear. She jolted upward, and her whisper forced its way past fear-tightened vocal cords. “Who’s there?” She held her breath and listened. Nothing. Must have been her imagination. Hayley settled back against the pillow, but her eyes refused to close.

Movement near the window caught her attention. What was that?

Hayley pulled her blankets up around her shaking shoulders. “Is s-someone there?”

Her leg began to ache as though a storm brewed, from a dull discomfort to deep, searing pain in seconds. She sat up and massaged the tormented limb, but it only made it worse. Groaning, she crawled out of bed without turning on the light, pulled open the bottom drawer of her desk, and rummaged under some papers. Where were they?

Another hot spasm shot up her leg, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Stretching her arm as far as she could, her fingers touched a small, plastic case. She drew it out and clenched it in her fist.

Pain overwhelmed all other thoughts, and Hayley opened the pill container. She picked out two capsules, but halfway to her mouth her hand stopped as though it had hit a wall. Shock rippled through her as realization hit. These pills were her escape route from life, the narcotics that would end her misery forever.

Take them. You need them. The raspy whisper swirled around her face.

Hayley threw the pills back into the drawer and slammed it shut. “No! Not now.” She began to sob. “I want to live.” Still sobbing, Hayley crawled back into bed and curled into a fetal position. Breathe. In and out. I am OK. I am strong. The past is gone, the future is God’s. Over and over she repeated the words, until finally the throbbing pain ebbed, and she relaxed.

As she slid into a deep sleep, she heard another sound, and it tore at her soul. Faintly, as though through a dense fog, a baby’s cry hung in the air.

~*~

Darkness still shrouded the city when Trevor emerged from a deep, restful sleep. He shut off his alarm radio before it could interrupt his peace and propped his hands behind his head. He could take a few minutes to enjoy the comfort of his own bed. Since he’d returned from Toronto, he’d stayed at the farm to help his dad with chores. Now it felt good to be back in his own place, even for one night.

His thoughts drifted to the farm with its problems and possibilities. He’d always dreamed of eventually taking it over when his parents retired and he’d found the woman who could share his dream, a real helpmate. This farm was the perfect place to do for some hurting kid what his parents had done for him. Give a child a secure home and help him find his way to a better life.

His lips twisted as memories took him where he didn’t want to go. Anything would have been better than his last foster home. He shoved the haunting images away and picked up a brighter one.

Hayley. She’d surprised him. Several times. Her empathy towards the difficulty of his decision, her willingness to open up even a little, and especially the change in her demeanour. The timid, hurting beauty from the plane had morphed into a more confident, positive woman. She’d figured God had helped her. Fine. At least she hadn’t tried to preach at him.

And if she could find someone to help his mom, he’d be indebted to her. Pleasure radiated through his chest. Another reason to see her again, and he could go for that. Better give her a day or two to talk to those friends of hers, though.

Trevor glanced at the clock. If he wanted to get to the shop before the other guys claimed work space, he had to get going. Sometime during the night, his subconscious figured out the solution to the gas tank issue on his next creation. But would this be the last custom bike he’d build in Saskatoon? Pleasure twisted into unease.

He wrenched the covers off his restless body and hurried to shower.

~*~

The bedside clock read ten forty-five when Hayley sat up and rubbed gritty residue from her eyes. She hadn’t slept well until she’d heard footsteps above her indicating Dave and Lydia’s comforting presence. She padded across the hardwood floor and pulled her plush moss-green bathrobe out of the closet. Its warmth enveloped her as she wrapped it around her weary body. She smoothed the rose-embroidered silk lapel, tied the belt, and cringed as its long ends mocked her thinness.

A few minutes later, she grabbed the handrail as she took one stair at a time, her injured leg lagging behind like a reluctant puppy. She pushed open the door at the top of the stairs and blinked.

Bright sunshine streamed in through sheer curtains at the kitchen’s bay window. Hayley shielded her eyes with her hand as she crossed to the cupboard for a mug. But after her rough night, tea didn’t appeal. “Coffee. I need coffee.”

The stainless thermos carafe felt heavy, and when Hayley poured out its dark liquid, fragrant steam wafted into her face. “Mm-mm.” It smelled good for the first time since the accident.

She took a careful sip, swallowed, and smiled. It tasted good too. Wonder flitted through her mind, but pleasure overrode it. Hayley sat at the round oak table, sipped her coffee, and marveled at the stark beauty of Lydia’s garden outside the bay window.

Nothing bloomed yet, of course, as temperatures still dropped well below freezing most nights. But the cedar gazebo and benches, metal fire pit, and bare but stately trees and shrubs created a still life picture which promised more loveliness to come.

Lost in contemplation, Hayley jumped when something touched her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Lydia sat next to Hayley. “Did you have a good evening?” Concern textured her voice. She must have noticed the shadows under Hayley’s eyes. Or maybe it was just the lateness of the hour.

Hayley felt her face warm. “Trevor was great, and so was the meal. I’m really glad he called.” Memory of a promise clicked, and she turned to face Lydia head-on. “I have to ask you something, though.”

Lydia patted Hayley’s hand. “Anything, dear.”

“Trevor’s worried about his parents. They live out on a farm near….Langham, I think he said. Anyway, his mom broke her arm, and his dad is having trouble keeping up with the chores, and that’s keeping Trevor from taking the job of his dreams in Toronto.”

Lydia’s head tilted. “His last name is Hiebert, right?” Hayley nodded, and Lydia continued. “I wonder if they might be Franklin and Laureen Hiebert. I met Laureen at a women’s ministry luncheon a couple years ago. Lovely lady.”

Hayley shrugged. “I don’t think he mentioned their names. But I told him you might know someone who could help them, at least until his mom’s arm heals. Oh, and she’s been having dizzy spells, so his dad is afraid to leave her alone.”

“Oh, dear. Let me think…better yet, let’s pray.” Without waiting for a response, Lydia bowed her head. “Father God, You know this situation inside and out. You know the cause of these dizzy spells, and You know Trevor’s desire to take care of his parents. If he is to go to Toronto, please provide a helper for them. Thank You, in Jesus’s name.”

The calm assurance in Lydia’s voice surprised and soothed Hayley. How did Lydia know God heard her? How could she expect He would care enough to act?

Before she could formulate a question, Lydia patted Hayley’s hand and stood. “Have you eaten yet, dear?”

“No, but I’m not really hungry. I’ll wait for lunch.”

Lydia peered at her. “Are you sure?”

Hayley nodded as echoes of her bad dream settled like a lump in her stomach. “Thanks, anyway.”

“Dave has a luncheon meeting, so it’s just the two of us for lunch. Would you like something light? Maybe grilled cheese sandwiches and a tossed salad?”

Her distress melted away, and Hayley smiled her pleasure. “That sounds perfect. Do I have time to get dressed first?”

“Of course, but it’s not necessary. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll make lunch together. And afterward, while we wait for God’s response to our prayer, how about some more cooking lessons? We can make some meals for the Hiebert family. The poor woman won’t be able to do much with her arm in a cast.” She pulled a tattered cookbook from the cupboard and began flipping pages.

Hayley propped her chin on her hand and stared at Lydia’s back. “You’re amazing, Lydia, always doing things for others. I wish I could be just like you.”

Lydia stilled. “No, you don’t.” One side of her mouth lifted as she returned to the table. “I’m far from perfect, my dear. Don’t aspire to be like me. You haven’t been here long enough to know how imperfect I am, but trust me.” Her eyes twinkled as she shook her head. “You are becoming the woman God designed you to be, and that’s a very good thing. Much better than trying to be like anyone else.”

Hayley nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t understand.” God had a design for her? How could He? Why…? She shook her head and pushed back her chair. Maybe a quick shower would clear her mind and untangle her thoughts. She headed for the basement stairs. “I’ll get dressed and be right back—with some questions.”

What if Lydia was right?

And if God had a plan for her, what could it possibly be?

~*~

Five hours later, three casseroles and two meat loaves shared space in Lydia’s convection oven, while six dozen cookies and four dozen buns cooled on racks. Hayley grimaced at the misshapen blobs she’d formed. “Maybe we should keep these here, hmm?”

Lydia grinned. “You should have seen my first batch of buns. Good thing Dave loves my cooking, no matter what. Yours don’t look bad. Let’s give them a taste test.” She picked up two sorry-looking specimens, handed one to Hayley, and sliced open the other. “Come on, help yourself to the butter.”

Hayley waited until Lydia took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. At least she hadn’t choked or gagged. “How was it?”

Lydia winked. “Try one.” She took another bite.

Hayley took a tentative nibble. Not bad. She chewed and analyzed. It tasted yeasty, like buns should, soft inside with a slightly crisp crust. “It’s good.” Relief lifted her lips. “They look funny, but they’re all right.”

Lydia nodded as she packed cooled cookies into freezer containers. “Shaping them takes a little practice, but I’m impressed with how well you did. Maybe tomorrow we’ll make some hot cross buns to freeze. A tasty Easter tradition.”

Hayley sank onto a chair at the table and massaged her leg. “I can’t wait. That was fun. I’ve always envied people who could turn ingredients into something tasty and nutritious. But I never imagined I could do it.”

Lydia reached for another container. “Why not?”

“My parents didn’t cook much, and when I tried….well, that was the disaster I told you about.”

“Then I suggest we make up for lost time now that you’re here. I love having such an eager student.” Her smile felt like a benediction.

Warmth flooded Hayley until one word pricked her conscience. Student. Her accounting books waited downstairs, and she hadn’t even thought about them for two days. And now she dreaded facing them. She imagined herself at her father’s accounting firm, wrestling with numbers and forms. Day after day. A shudder rippled through her.

“Are you cold?” Lydia’s soft voice dispelled the vision.

Hayley forced a smile. “No, I’m fine. A little tired. But I’ll help with supper.”

“You already did.” Lydia’s eyes twinkled. “One of the meat loaves is for our supper. I’ll pop some potatoes in the microwave, heat up some green beans, and there’s salad left from lunch, so we’re set. Why don’t you relax, maybe put your leg up for a while? We’ll eat in about forty-five minutes.”

Hayley pushed to her feet. “I should probably work on my studies.”

Lydia turned back to the baked goods. “All right, dear. Thanks for all your help. Have fun.”

Hayley plodded toward her room. Fun? Not the word she’d choose for her studies. Destiny, maybe. Or obligation. Her father’s note nudged her conscience. She’d made a promise to succeed. She straightened her shoulders. She would do it. She had to. Fun didn’t enter the equation.