The hot, sticky weather weighed heavily on everyone that Memorial Day weekend. Micah pushed her damp hair away from her face, and then put the finishing touches on the caricature of a young boy on a bicycle. The flapping canvas of the tent sheltered Micah and her squirming model from the full effect of the sun's heat, and the occasional breeze saved them from the sweltering humidity.
“Here you go.” She smiled at the child who jumped gratefully from the lawn chair in which he had been sitting.
“Thanks, lady. Hey, Grandpa! Check this out!”
Micah reached for the lemonade on the table beside her chair. Summer had not officially arrived yet, but no one seemed to remember in light of the soaring temperatures.
The string of booths and tents, one in which Micah worked, lined a section of several streets in Chillicothe during this annual festival. Micah had been pleased to find a lemonade stand right next door to her tent. This was the final day of the festival. Although glad for the work and the money, she also needed this distraction to take her mind off Rob, even if it was only a temporary solution. Substitute teaching was coming to an end for the year with only a few days of school remaining, and a season of traveling to various carnivals and art shows awaited her.
After a long, cool drink of lemonade, she returned the paper cup to the wobbly table close to her. Ordinarily, Micah enjoyed the fairs, the traveling, the people. But this year, her heart was not in it. It couldn't be. She had lost it to Rob Granston in the spring. And she wondered if it would ever really belong to her again.
“Daddy? Can the lady draw my picture?”
When the man nodded his permission, Micah smiled and asked the small child her name.
“Mollie,” came the reply in a squeaky, little voice. “I'm four years old.”
“You're getting to be a big girl, aren't you? Mollie is a pretty name,” Micah said as she picked up her supplies. “Tell me what you like to do for fun.”
“I'm learning to swim, and I'm doing real good at it,” the child responded, wiggling in the chair she had sat down in.
“Okay,” Micah replied. “We'll put some water in this picture. How about a float belt, too? Do you wear one of those?”
“Yep. It's a blue one with three squares. Not two, not one. Three.”
Micah laughed softly at the young girl's preciseness and began to sketch her, carefully including all three foam squares in the drawing. “I have a good friend named Carole who loves to swim.”
“Me, too!” Mollie responded, pointing to a skinny girl with blond pigtails and glasses who stood a few feet away with Mollie's father. “That's my Carole. Is yours here today?”
“No,” Micah answered, glancing at the people passing by. “She said she might come for a while this afternoon, but so far I haven't seen her.”
The girl chatted incessantly from that point on, chewing bubble gum loudly as she spoke. This became one of those times when Micah felt relieved to hand the finished product to the customer, receive her five dollars and say goodbye.
The heat had kept many people away from the festivities and Micah noticed the crowd appeared considerably smaller than either of the two previous days. Tugging at her white cotton dress, she freed it from clinging to her legs. If only the rain that had been promised would come. She scooped her hair up in one hand, lifting it away from the back of her neck and enjoyed the lifesaving breeze that skimmed over her.
“Micah.”
Auburn curls tumbled around her shoulders as her head jerked toward the sound of the voice. That's when she saw him, standing at the edge of her tent, looking at her for a long, silent moment with a sadness in his expression she'd not seen before.
“How did you find me?” she asked quietly.
“Carole,” he replied.
A woman with a small child entered the tent behind Rob. “Could we have a picture drawn together?”
“She's busy right now, you'll have to come back later,” Rob explained as he ushered the woman from the tent.
“You know, don't you?” Micah asked. The fact she had wanted most to keep from him, somehow he knew. She could sense it.
Rob rubbed the back of his neck in a weary movement when he turned to face her. He watched her fumble with a few brushes and pens on the easel ledge, realizing she preferred concentrating on the colorful tools rather than look him in the eyes.
“I came home from California this morning,” he acknowledged.
Micah nodded and swallowed hard at the persistent lump in her throat. “And now you know.” She raised her eyes to meet his.
This time it was Rob who averted his gaze. But not in the disappointment Micah assumed. He simply could not bear to see the unspoken pain he'd inflict when he confirmed her suspicions. He cleared his throat. “I spoke with your father.” Then he met her watery gaze again.
“You had no right,” she said hotly.
“Maybe not,” he conceded, keeping his emotions in check. “But I had to find someone who would tell me what you wouldn't.”
“Couldn't,” Micah corrected. “I've never told anyone my father is a murderer. How could I tell you?”
“Micah, you had nothing to do with it. It wasn't your crime.”
“But the sins of the father—”
“Belong to the father. That's not just my opinion, it's scriptural. You've done nothing wrong. Let it go.”
“I don't know why he did it, and I've never had any of the money he embezzled.”
“Did you think I wouldn't believe you? You could have trusted me with this. You know I love you. Nothing will change that. Why can't you believe in my love for you?”
She shook her head sadly. “Because it will hurt so badly when it's gone.”
“It will never be gone. Nothing that I've found out changes anything. You could have told me about your dad. You could have told me that your boyfriend back then was a law student. That alone would have explained a lot.”
“And I could have told you how Kevin wanted nothing more to do with me once the story was out. Or maybe I could have told you the cruel comments that he made during his ‘exit’ speech. Kevin and his parents hated me for connecting him to the scandal. And the thing I keep remembering is how my mother's law practice dwindled to nothing right after Dad's arrest, and she hated him for it. I couldn't bear to think of damaging your career and watching you grow to hate me.”
“Micah, please—”
“What kind of future can an attorney have with the daughter of a convicted criminal? Kevin's parents were right in ending the relationship.”
“His parents aren't to blame. Everyone makes their own decision, and Kevin made his. He was a coward.”
“No, he did the smart thing. His mother warned me that Kevin knew I would only ‘tarnish his bright and shining future.”
“Then, apparently, he was a fool as well as a coward,” Rob muttered, looking away from the anguish reflected in Micah's eyes. Then he looked back again. “What could be ‘bright and shining’ about a future without you?”
And Micah smiled. The first real smile she'd given him in such a long time. But it didn't last.
“Rob, please don't make me want you more. This is difficult enough, as it is. Losing Kevin was nothing compared to losing you!” She spun away from him, moving toward the tent opening to put distance between them.
“Micah, look at me.” Rob gripped her shoulders, pulling her back and turning her firmly around to face him. “You're not losing me.”
“But, Rob, think about it! My father is guilty of embezzling over half a million dollars, then murdering his business associate to cover up the evidence. Do you want to go through life having a father-in-law who is in prison?”
“I talked with your dad for a long time. And I met with his attorneys and read over all the transcripts. He did take the money, but I honestly don't think he's guilty of murdering anyone.”
“But there's no way to prove that.”
“Probably not. But I'm going to discuss the case with Alsmore.”
“No! That will be the end of your job. The moment he finds out who I am—”
“Being a lawyer was Nick's dream, not mine.”
“But I thought—”
Rob cut her words short. “I told your dad I want to marry you.” Rob studied Micah's wary gaze, disliking the familiar hesitancy he saw there. “He said he could use a good attorney in the family again.”
Micah shook her head no. She knew Rob's decisiveness too well. He'd determine to stand by her, to be a better man than Kevin had been, no matter what the cost. “Rob—”
He interrupted her once again. “But I told him you had the feeling that someday you might be a pastor's wife. And I said I thought that would make you happier.”
Micah froze, and swallowed the despair that clawed at her throat. Rob was letting her go. After all the months of telling him he should and hoping that, somehow, he wouldn't, he'd let go. Just like that. Micah wondered if she would die of a shattered heart, right there in that tent on a hot afternoon while life buzzed all around them.
A pastor's wife. She had thought that at one time. Hadn't she? Sometime back before she met Rob, back before she fell in love with him…because since that moment, she had wanted no one else. And now it was ending.
Micah nodded and turned from him, choking back a sob. She would let him go, she would get through this. She must. Didn't the Bible promise that “All things work together for good to them that love God?”
“Micah, what I'm trying to say is that I resigned from Alsmore's firm today.”
“No,” she moaned and shot a look of disbelief at him. “You can't! That's your career. That's your life.”
“It's just a profession, Micah, not my life. And it's not the work I've always wanted to do. I didn't even consider going to law school until Nick died. He was the one who wanted to become an attorney, work with his dad. Then he died and, I guess, my faith in God died with him that night.” Rob raked a hand through his dark hair. “But I'm almost as tired of running from God as I am of you running from me.”
“Then stop running. Go back to Him, Rob.” Whether or not Micah ever knew a life with Rob didn't change her longing for his return to their faith. She loved him too much to dare think of him never finding his way home.
“I promised Him I would come back when I had reason to trust Him again.” Rob's eyes misted with tears, and Micah reached out to him, touching his forearm. “And I've kept my promise.” He paused. “Your painting of the church, Micah. I could have been the pastor there at Pinewood when you visited that first Sunday. Remember how you felt drawn to that place and didn't understand why? I could have…should have met you then.”
“How? Why?”
“When you saw my diploma in the office, you didn't look at it closely. I told you I went to a Christian college, but what I didn't tell you is that I was a religion major. I planned to go into the ministry, and I interviewed for Pinewood right after graduation…right after Nick died.”
“So that's the important decision you made in that church. Not to go into the ministry? I had no idea.”
“I didn't want you to know. I didn't want to risk your hoping someday I'd go back to the ministry, because I didn't think I ever would. I thought my life without God was going great. And you…I thought I'd found you all by myself. No help from the Lord. You were a witness to an accident and walked right into my office and into my life. But when I saw your finished painting and realized it was Pinewood, I knew then that God had intended to bring you across my path, one way or another.”
Rob touched her hair, tracing the edge of her ear as he did so. “Having you…it wasn't my doing. In fact, I'd have met you much sooner, when you first discovered Pinewood, if only I'd been there like I should have been. I'll never understand why God let Nick and Rachel die that night. It still doesn't seem fair to me, it doesn't seem right. But now, for the first time in a long, long time, I do believe He's still working in my life. And I'm going to have enough faith to trust Him to lead me the rest of the way. I have an appointment with the district superintendent next Tuesday to discuss what I need to do to get my credentials reinstated.”
Micah's hand moved to cover Rob's where it lingered close to her ear, and she pressed it against her cheek. His palm felt warm on her face. “But this means I can't hurt your future.” Her eyes flooded with tears.
“Now we can both stop running.” He opened his arms and she came to him, letting him draw her near.
“I love you, Rob.” She breathed the words against his chest where she'd buried her face near his heart. She held him close. Without regret. With no thought of parting.
Rob kissed the crown of her head tenderly. “And I've loved you since…” He paused, remembering.
“Since I told you Mrs. Winslow drives like a maniac?”
He laughed quietly and shook his head. “Not exactly. I think it happened over pancakes and orange juice.” Then his easy smile slowly faded.
Micah raised on tiptoe to brush her lips against his in a feather-soft touch she knew Rob would not settle for. And she was right. He pulled her closer, kissing her the way she wanted to be kissed, holding her the way she needed to be held.
When she could breathe again, words rushed from Micah's heart. “Marry me, Rob, or I'll die right here and now from a broken heart.”
“I think,” Rob said, then hesitated long enough to brush a kiss against her ear, “that's supposed to be my line.” Then he smiled…almost. “So, will you? Marry me?”
“Yes.” Micah's arms slid around his neck as she gazed into the gentle blue eyes that touched her soul. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
“You owe me that many after all the no's I've listened to,” Rob replied tenderly, quietly. A soft summer shower began to fall, pelting the top of Micah's tent. “I love you, Micah Shepherd, but you'll need to change your name again, you know.”
“Paperwork will be easy this time,” she responded.
“True. All you'll need is our marriage license,” Rob said. “And no multiple-choice selection. ‘Granston’ is your only option.”
“I don't think I ever told you how I chose ‘Shepherd,’ did I?”
Rob shook his head, his easy smile returning. “So, tell me.”
“‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…’ After I became a Christian, the Twenty-third Psalm was the first passage of scripture I memorized. And since the Lord is my shepherd and like a father to me, I decided to think of myself as the daughter of a shepherd.”
“That's beautiful, Micah,” he commented as a seriousness creased his forehead. “You know your Heavenly Father loves you, but your dad does, too. He wants to see you.”
“Did he say that, or is it just your opinion?”
“He said it, I'm only delivering the message.”
Rob touched her cheek gently. “He regrets the past, Micah, and he hasn't been able to reach you to apologize.”
“He's the one who told me to change my name and never contact him again. It was his idea.” Her words were sharp, but only hurt shone in her eyes.
“He did that to protect you, in case someone thought you had access to the missing money.”
“Well, now he can get in touch with me if he chooses. He knows my last name.”
“No, he doesn't.”
She frowned. “But you said you saw him—”
“I did, but I didn't give him your name or address. You've spent a decade establishing a career, a life with the name Shepherd. I didn't feel I had the right to give that away to the man who made you change it.”
“But he knows you now….”
“He doesn't know my last name or even what part of the country I come from, that is, unless he detected that Columbus, Ohio, dialect in my speech.” Rob's eyes shone with gentleness. “He's tired, and he's lonely…and he misses you. I told him I'd take you to see him if you wanted to go. I don't promise things that aren't mine to give.”
A disconcerted look flashed in Micah's gaze as she considered the possibilities. “I don't know if I can do that. See him again after all these years.”
“You won't know unless you try,” Rob suggested. “He loves you.”
When Micah's eyes met Rob's again, they filled with tears. She wiped at them with the back of her hand. “I love him, too,” she softly admitted.
“Then tell him, Micah. You are all he has left in this world.”
“Yeah, just me and about half a million dollars hidden somewhere.”
“I don't think so,” Rob said. “I don't know how much this will upset you, but your father believes that his wife somehow took the money from his accounts and moved out of the country to live a life of luxury. From the things he's told me, I'm inclined to agree with him.”
“Nothing she does could surprise me. She left Dad when he needed her most—”
“And you. You needed her, too, Micah. You were just a kid.”
“I was never the kind of daughter she wanted. I didn't have any interest in studying law or being like her. I wanted to paint and to teach others to paint”
“That's because you are exactly like your mother.”
Micah frowned. “No, I meant—”
Rob reached for her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb while he responded quietly, cautiously, “I know what you meant, but what you don't know, what your father didn't tell you, is that the mom you grew up with was not your biological mother.”
“Rob?” She pulled her hand away from him suddenly. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father's first wife was a beautiful redhead who taught art. She died right after your birth.”
“Died? My mother died?” Micah repeated in near disbelief with one hand flying to cover a gasp.
Rob nodded. “Your dad will explain more when he sees you, but, Rita, the mom you grew up with, adopted you when you were about a year old. Everything was fine until she learned she couldn't have a child of her own. Then the criticism and resentment of you started. The distance you've felt from Rita was not your fault.”
“I thought all along that my mother didn't love me, that it was my fault. It would have been so much better if they would have told me the truth.” Micah returned to Rob's arms, that place of comfort she now knew would always be hers.
“And it would have been better for you to have told me about the murder charges…and the law student.”
“I know that now. I'm sorry, Rob. No more secrets. I promise.” She smiled up into a gaze filled with tenderness.
“Good,” Rob answered as his mouth slanted into the familiar smile that Micah had suspected would be her downfall from the beginning. “I can hardly believe you're really mine. You're so beautiful and lovely and—”
“Yours,” Micah added with a boldness his love afforded.
“And no more reluctance about our future, right?” he added.
“None. Ever.” She raised up, touching her lips to his. And when the wind shifted, the soft summer rain blew inside their shelter, showering their kiss with its blessing.