Bailey climbed the front porch steps of Cole’s cabin.
Kayden opened the door before she could knock. “Hey, Bailey. Come on in.”
Hewn pine planks covered the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Recessed lighting brought out the warm honey hues in the wood. “Is Cole awake?” she asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Piper wasn’t the only one recovering from a bullet wound.
“Yeah, right here on the couch,” he called from the rear of the cabin. “Come on in.”
She moved down the hallway and into the main living space of the house. The open kitchen, dining area, and family room all had window-to-floor views of the forest. He’d done a nice job decorating the place. Hunter green and deep blues accented the pine beautifully. Photographs of moose and whales, and underwater shots of Alaska’s famed coral dotted the walls. The decorating looked so well put together she wondered if his sisters hadn’t played a role in it.
Cole angled his head back with a smile. “Hey, gorgeous.” Wearing his red-and-white Scuba Cowboy T-shirt and faded cargo shorts, he looked perfectly at ease.
“You look like you’re feeling better.”
“What can I say—you bring out the best in me.”
Heat flushed her cheeks.
Kayden jingled her keys. “I’m gonna head out.”
Cole lifted the bowl in his hand. “Thanks for the soup.”
“I’ll drop by later.”
“I’m really okay. You can stop fussing.”
“Piper insisted. You think I’m bad, wait until she gets released.”
“Have they given her a date?” Bailey asked.
“Doc says if she keeps healing at this rate, she’ll be home next week.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“She’s a strong kid,” Kayden said with pride.
“Takes after her sister.” Cole winked.
Kayden smiled. “Catch you guys later.”
The door shut, and Cole set the soup bowl down. “I thought she’d never leave.”
“Cole!”
“No. It’s not how it sounds. I love seeing Kayden, just not her soup. She was hovering over me to make sure I ate it.”
“That bad?”
“You have no idea.”
Bailey chuckled and reached for the bowl. “I’ll pour it out for you.”
“Nah. I can do that later. Right now, I want you to sit here.” He tugged her onto his lap.
“Cole.”
“We need to talk, and I need to be sure you stay put for the length of it.”
“I don’t think”—she wriggled as if to escape his clutches—“this is necessary.”
“Probably not, but I’m not complaining.”
She laughed. “You’re impossible.”
“Determined,” he corrected. “Determined to tell you I love you.”
“I know you think you love me.” But he couldn’t possibly.
“I don’t think . . . I know I love you. Question is, do you love me too?”
She did with all her heart. “I’m not right for you.”
He clasped her hand, intertwining their fingers. “You’re perfect for me.”
“How can you say that? After all I’ve done.”
“Done. As in the past.”
“Don’t you know—‘The past isn’t forgotten. In fact, it isn’t even past.’ ” Faulkner had it right.
“Bailey . . .” He said her name with so much love, her heart nearly broke. “You’re a new creation. Your sins are forgiven. Why carry a burden Christ died to relieve you of?”
She exhaled, trying to pull away, but he held her tight. “It’s not that simple, Cole.”
“Yes it is. Come with me.” He clasped her hand and led her to a full-length mirror at the base of the landing. Positioning her in front of him, he rested his hands on her shoulders. “What do you see when you look in the mirror?”
Filthy rags. The woman who deserved to be stoned.
“You need to start seeing yourself through God’s eyes.”
But what He sees is the same. She was flawed and undeserving.
“When God looks at you He sees His beloved child.”
“Not me. You’re wrong.”
“No. I’m not.”
“How can you sound so certain?”
“Because I know He loves you.”
“How?”
“Because He died for you.”
Her lip quivered. “But I am so unworthy.”
“We all are. That’s the beauty of God’s grace and the depth of Christ’s love. God loves you.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing against her cheek. “And so do I.”
“But you deserve better.” He was respected, looked up to in the community. She couldn’t destroy that, couldn’t cast a black smudge on his family name, not when they’d all been so kind and selfless toward her.
He tipped her chin up. “There could be nobody better for me than you.”
How could he love her after all she’d done, after how she’d treated him? She’d never even apologized. Steeling her courage, she turned to face him. “This is something I should have done years ago, but I was too prideful.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Yes it is. I need to tell you how sorry I am about how I treated you. It wasn’t because you weren’t special to me. It was because I was so screwed up. I thought I needed guys like Tom’s approval to have value. But even more than that . . .” Here comes the hard part. “Truth is I was terrified. Terrified you’d discover I wasn’t worthy of your friendship and affection, terrified you’d . . .” Abandon me like my parents.
“Bailey.” Cole clasped her hands. “I forgive you and I love you.”
“But I’m still such a mess.”
“We all are. We don’t instantly become like Jesus the moment we’re saved. It’s a journey.” He cupped her face. “A journey I’d like to share with you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to spend my life with you.”
Her head spun. How could a man—a wonderful, kind man like Cole—forgive her so easily and love her so deeply in spite of her flaws? She studied him a moment, searching his eyes, finding only truth and love. If a human being could love and forgive her like that, then maybe God could too.
The breath left her body in a whoosh as His truth seeped into her soul.
Christ had not only saved her from her sins, but He loved her. Not based on how she measured up, but because she was His.
It was unfathomable, but true.