27

Monday morning, Trevor drove toward Easy Rider an hour earlier than usual. He’d burned the bridge to Toronto. Vince Starr’s scorching curses still rang in his ears, and Carlos had every right to give Trevor’s job to someone else. Trevor’s belly cramped. Maybe re-heated, day-old coffee on an empty stomach wasn’t such a good idea.

Trevor pulled into the lot behind the shop and parked beside Carlos’s almost-antique, green half ton. No trade-ins for Carlos, even when he’d bought a new truck. The man loved that old truck, promised he’d keep it going forever. Knowing Carlos, he probably would.

That was one of many things Trevor admired about the new-and-improved Carlos. He didn’t quit, didn’t give up on anything. Or anyone. Trevor stood tall, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Carlos looked up from the motorcycle parts on his worktable. “T-man. What are you doing here? Thought you’d be packing for Toronto.” His eyebrows drew together as he regarded Trevor. “What’s wrong?”

“Got a minute? Maybe in your office?”

Carlos peered at Trevor as though he could read his thoughts. The scrutiny made Trevor want to squirm, but he stared right back. Finally, Carlos nodded, wiped his hands on a rag, and headed into his office. “So what’s up?”

Trevor rubbed his chin as he discarded several openings. Might as well blurt it out. “I’m not going to Toronto. Phoned Vince Starr before I came.” He grimaced. “That didn’t go well, but Starr’s reaction convinced me my decision was the right one.”

“Hallelujah!” Carlos leaned back, propped his feet on his desk, and clasped his hands behind his head. One side of his mouth quirked upward. “So what happened to change your mind? Gotta be quite the story.”

“Something just didn’t feel right about Lowrider. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but a couple days ago, the guy I was going to room with phoned. Nate Smith. He warned me to stay away. I don’t know what’s going on there, but when I talked to Max…”

“You and Max?” Carlos lunged forward, his feet hitting the floor with a thump.

“Yeah, we talked. A lot. Pretty smart guy.”

Carlos’s face lit up, especially his eyes. They seemed to bore into his very soul, just as Max’s had.

“Now I know what you meant, boss—him telling you stuff you didn’t know about yourself. He did that to me. Made me see how wrong I was. About pretty much everything. Like quitting everything here for pride’s sake.” He blew out a breath. “And judging people and God based on my own perceptions.”

“You mean…”

Trevor nodded. “Yeah, all about Jesus. I think I get it now.” He blew out a breath. “Well, I’m starting to.”

Carlos raised his arms and lifted his face toward the ceiling. “Thank You, Jesus!” Then he leaned over the desk, his hand thrust out for a handshake. “Welcome to the family, bro.”

Family? That sounded pretty good. Trevor got up and grasped Carlos’s hand. “Thanks.” Then he sank back into the armchair. “So…is there any chance this family member could get his job back?” Before Carlos could respond, Trevor held up a hand, palm out. “I know I don’t deserve it. I was ready to leave without a backward glance after all you’ve done for me. I regret that. I regret a lot of things.”

“Regret’s not a bad thing, if it leads you to repentance. But once you repent, hanging onto guilt won’t do you—or anyone else—a bit of good. Comprende?” Carlos stroked his goatee. “So now you want your job back.”

The knot in Trevor’s gut tightened. “Have you already filled the position?” Panic began to swirl his thoughts. Please, God.

A grin broke through Carlos’s stern look. “Naw, your job’s open. I been prayin’ you’d come to your senses before it was too late.” He chortled. “You should see your face.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll make this up to you somehow.” With all the emotions warring for dominance— gratitude for getting his job at Easy Rider back, frustration at Carlos’s teasing, shame for his actions, and eagerness to get back to work—his face probably did look ridiculous. He grinned. He didn’t even care.

“Yeah, you will. You can start by getting to work. The interview you did for the paper is bringing in lots of interest, several orders. As you know.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Here. Take your pick and get to work.”

“You’re too good to me, boss.”

Carlos grinned. “Don’t you forget it. Welcome home, T.” He cleared his throat.

“What?”

“I just had an idea. Since your bikes—and your handsome mug—are so popular, let’s spotlight your Indian in the window. Build a raised stand so it shows up better from outside.”

Trevor mulled it over for a minute. “Sure, as long as it’s secure. Don’t want anything to happen to my Chief.”

A cold breeze came out of nowhere. Trevor shivered as an icy tingle raced up and down his back.

~*~

Hayley paced her bedroom, the receiver pressed to her ear, as though it would calm her nerves. “Hi, Daddy.”

“I got your text. What do you mean, you’re not coming back? After all we’ve done for you? I suppose you quit your course too, after I paid for it.” Her father’s cultured voice rose with every word.

What had she expected? Her parents would rejoice with her that she’d found her way, a reason to live?

“No, I haven’t quit. In fact, I’m nearly finished, and you should be proud of my grades. I’ve booked my exams at the University of Saskatchewan for the end of June, and I expect to graduate with honors. But I’m staying here. This is my home now.”

Home. A fleeting image of Trevor and her working side by side on the farm and someday adopting hurting kids, spread warmth outward from her heart, all the way to her cold fingers clutching the phone. God had brought her here, and He would work out His plan. His very good plan.

“Are you pregnant again?”

Her father’s harsh words slapped her romantic dream into far-flung bits, and Hayley gasped at the pain. Tears flooded her eyes, and as she reached blindly for a tissue, she fumbled the phone. It dropped to the floor. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and knelt to pick up the phone. “Daddy?”

No response. Had the fall disconnected them, or had he?

Hayley sank onto her bed, lay on her side, and pulled her knees up to her chest. Why couldn’t her parents support her? Oh, they’d always supplied her physical needs and often her impulsive wants. But not what she yearned for, their love.

Jesus, what am I supposed to do? How can I make them understand?

Pray for them.

The answer resonated in her heart. Hayley slid off the bed and onto her knees.

~*~

After supper, while Trevor placed the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, Hayley put away leftovers, barely enough to keep. She’d tried something new, chicken fettuccini, and the Hiebert family had declared it a grand success. Laureen and Franklin had lavishly praised her expanding repertoire, while Trevor nodded in agreement and helped himself to thirds.

After the conversation with her father, she needed a boost to her confidence. But Hayley had hardly tasted it. In spite of her open-heart prayers, her father’s harsh accusations reverberated and stole her appetite. Dear Jesus, if they cannot love me, at least help them accept my decision. Please.

Strong, warm arms encircled her from behind, and Trevor’s whiskery chin nuzzled her neck. “That was delicious, Red. And so are you. Mm-mm.”

“Just a second.” Hayley placed the covered dish into the refrigerator, closed its door, and turned into Trevor’s embrace. She leaned her cheek against his broad chest. The steady beat of his heart calmed her. Here, she mattered. She was safe. This home, this man—everything she’d dreamed of was right here. Thank You, Jesus.

Trevor stroked her cheek and tucked a short strand behind her ear. “You’re pretty quiet tonight. Want to talk about it?”

Did she? She hated to burden Trevor with the ugliness of her relationship with her parents, but if the dream she dared to cherish came true, he’d be related to them. “Yeah, I guess so. Just let me make sure your parents don’t need us, and maybe we could go for a drive. Would that be all right?”

“Of course.” He hesitated. “My car’s not very clean.”

Hayley reached up and pecked his cheek. “Silly man, it’s you I want, not your car.” Heat rushed to her face as she realized what she’d said. “I mean…”

“I like the way you think.” Trevor chuckled, lifted her chin, and kissed her. Hard.

Hayley broke contact, gasping, and ducked her head to lean on his chest again. Trevor’s heartbeat raced, and she smiled. His rapid breath tousled her hair as he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

“This….” He whispered, sounding winded. “Is why…I can’t…live in…the same house…as you. Yet.”

Hayley closed her eyes and waited for her pulse to slow. “You’re right.” She hugged him tightly. “But at least you’ll be close. Not in Toronto.” Her least favorite place. “I’m so thankful.”

Trevor’s large palm caressed her back, creating tingles from the curve of her hip to her shoulder before his hand slid down her arms to clasp hers. “Me too. Now let’s go tell Mom and Dad we’re going for a drive.”

A few minutes later, Trevor stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the North Saskatchewan River. The moon peeked out from behind a small cloud and illuminated the riffles of flowing water.

“Oh, so pretty,” Hayley said. “I didn’t realize your farm was so close to the river.” She looked around. Darkness hid most of the details, but bushes of various heights reached for the sky beside the graveled area. “What kind of shrubs are those? They look familiar.”

“Saskatoons. We used to pick buckets of the berries here in early summer. I’d help Mom clean them, and we’d freeze a bunch. Of course, she’d make a Saskatoon berry pie or two. Good times.”

“Your family did a lot together, didn’t they? You still do.” She could hear her own wistfulness.

Trevor’s seatbelt clicked.

Hayley raised her hand. “Wait. Maybe we should keep our seatbelts fastened.” His brow furrowed, and she reached over to smooth those lines away. “Because, you know, I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Good point.” He grinned and re-fastened the restraint. “I think that goes both ways, darlin’. So, now that we’re properly confined, how about you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Hayley swallowed hard. “My parents. I’ve always been a disappointment to them, especially my mother, but now my father seems to have taken her side. He used to stand up for me sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told them I didn’t plan to return to Toronto.” She clasped her cold hands in her lap. “That didn’t go over well. My father accused me of being a quitter.” And pregnant. She trembled, unable to speak those words. “I prayed for them, but it still hurts. I don’t know what else to do.”

Trevor’s seatbelt clicked and he slid closer. “I promise I’ll be good, but I need to hold you. All right?”

Hayley nodded, released hers, and scooted close to his side. “How can I make them understand?”

Trevor sat quietly for a moment, his eyes closed. Was he praying? A little thrill shot through Hayley. God really could change people.

Then he lifted her chin, and his eyes connected with hers. “You can’t. Only God can change people’s hearts.”

Hayley gasped. “I had the same thought, right before you said it. God spoke through you. Wow. I needed that reminder. I can’t change the way my parents feel, but I can keep loving and praying for them. I should ask your parents to pray. I think they have a direct line to God.”

“Good idea. They’re definitely well-practiced in prayer.” Trevor chuckled dryly. “I gave them plenty of reasons.”

Hayley leaned her head against Trevor’s shoulder. “Thank you for understanding.”

Contented silence filled the vehicle for several moments, until Trevor cleared his throat and coughed a little, as though he was nervous. Hayley looked up and noticed a line between his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“What are they going to think of me?”