Chapter 13

Digging both hands deep into the pockets of his worn jeans, he fingered the few coins that rested on the bottom. As he looked out from the enclosed porch at the barn and the driveway, occupied now by a black and chrome Harley-Davidson, he wondered how long he should wait. Restless, he paced the length of the front porch before choosing a wicker chair in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, replaying in his head the last several months.

He could not remember a time he had felt this tired, physically and mentally exhausted. He breathed in the fresh spring air; bending over, he rested his elbows on his knees, running both hands through sand-colored hair long overdue for a haircut. The hair fell over his eyes as soon as he pulled his hand away, a soft golden wave against his tanned skin.

The vehicle pulled almost silently into the driveway. He watched, half-wanting to leave. He felt like a cornered animal, trapped between her and his own doubts. He willed her to use the front door. If she did, he would leave. He’d come back tomorrow when her sister was home. Maybe.

He stood and watched her, saw her clench her fist as she walked toward the bike, then stop and turn back to her car. He breathed a sigh and sunk back into the shadows.

Suddenly, the back door flew open. He stood to face her as words assaulted him like sand thrown in the wind.

“What are you doing here? You can’t just barge in here and mess up our lives anytime you feel like it! This is Karlee’s wedding day, and you’re not going to spoil it! Why are you here? Answer me!” On the verge of hysteria, Hailey shook her head, then covered her face with her hands as tears streamed down behind them.

Knowing full well the possible consequences, Randy stepped slowly toward her and gently put his arms around her. Surprising them both, Hailey rested her head on his chest until she had relinquished the anger and pain she had carried for so long.

Softly into her hair, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Hailey, so very sorry. I came here to tell you that. Can we sit down? Will you hear me out, please?”

Hailey stood back, crossing her arms across her chest, and watched him sit, his outstretched hand offering the chair next to him. She sat down across from him, and Randy began repeating out loud the words that had played in his head for weeks.

Shadows danced around them as the afternoon sun slipped below gray clouds. Throughout the beginning of his explanation, Hailey remained silent. Then, lifting her hand to stop him, she heard her own voice say, “Let’s go inside; there’s coffee made.”

At the kitchen table, he watched her fill two cups from the coffeepot and reheat them in the microwave. He elected to leave his worn leather jacket on. When she sat down, Randy asked if he could continue. She nodded her head.

“Well, like I was saying, I got a job with a roofing company in Dallas in January. We got a contract to put a new roof on a building downtown. I didn’t pay much attention; it was called a women’s health clinic or something like that. It didn’t mean anything to me. The third day we were there, there was a crowd gathering across the street, and I realized the place was an abortion clinic.

“My first reaction was that, finally, something exciting might happen. I’d seen things on TV, and I expected to hear yelling and screaming and see people being carried off by the police. But it was nothing like that. All at once, this whole crowd of people knelt down and started praying and singing. We laughed at them at first. When we took a break, we sat on the edge of the roof like we were watching a football game. We saw women come in and out, but the way the laws are, the protesters couldn’t get close to them, so nothing happened.

“I was the last one to leave that afternoon.” He paused and looked down self-consciously. “This is where it gets weird. I was walking to my bike, and there was this girl heading for the entrance. I almost walked past her, but I noticed she was crying. I don’t usually get involved with strangers, but for some reason I asked her if she was okay. She said no, and then she started sobbing.” Randy took a deep breath to steady his voice. “That’s when it hit me. I’ve always been pro-choice, I suppose, but I never gave it much thought. But that girl could have been you! I never thought about what you went through, how hard it must have been, and all because I never thought about anything but myself!” His eyes shimmered with tears as he finished.

“What happened to the girl?” Hailey asked quietly, wiping a tear from her chin.

“Before I knew what I was doing, I had my arm around her, and I said I thought the people across the street could help her. She didn’t argue, so I walked her over to them. There was a lady there who worked at a maternity home, and the girl ended up going home with her.”

He paused and stared down at his hands. “I—I was crying by the time I got back to my bike. That’s not something I do—ever. I knew I had to come back and tell you how sorry I am, for all of it. Nothing should have happened that night, and then to leave you to make that decision alone. . . I’m so sorry.”

Hailey wiped her cheeks with her hands, then took a sip of her coffee, all the while keeping her eyes on the place mat in front of her. “You didn’t know.”

They were silent for several minutes. Hailey curled and uncurled the edge of the place mat while Randy fingered the zipper on his jacket. Finally, he spoke again. “Karlee tried to talk to me about God when I was here in November. I’ve never been into religion, but she said she’d pray for me, and I have this weird feeling like, I don’t know. . .like God is cornering me, making things happen, you know? Like working on that clinic—it’s too much of a coincidence. Does that make any sense?”

Hailey nodded, rose silently, walked to the counter, and picked up her Bible, then reached for the phone. After she dialed, she turned and faced Randy squarely for a moment, watching him cup the coffee mug between his hands as if to warm himself.

“Hi, this is Hailey. Could I speak to Karlee, please? No, I’m fine. Yes, I’m sure.” Turning from Randy, she shut her eyes tight. Why did Cody have to answer the phone? “Kar, I just wanted to let you know I’ll be a little late. . . . No, I’m okay, just a little headache. I think if I just relax for a few minutes, I’ll be fine. I’ll be back long before you leave.”

❧

Hailey had washed her face and put on fresh makeup after Randy left, but she knew she looked terrible. If anyone questioned her, she wouldn’t have to lie about a headache.

She handed the gift to Karlee and went through the motions of having a good time for the next hour. After seeing David and Karlee off, she helped Jody and Paige carry trays of food out to the kitchen while Cody and Robert folded up the chairs to be returned to the church.

Her father walked in, looking years younger in his uniform, and she gave him a hug. “We’ve been talking with David’s parents and Dr. Worth,” he said, “and we decided not to waste these good clothes. We’re going to drive up to Madison and get a tour of the art gallery, then go out for a late dinner. How does that sound?”

Her mother walked in just as she started to answer. “Oh, Dad, I really don’t feel like it. I’ve had a headache all afternoon, and I think I’d just like a little downtime.” She smiled at her mother’s worried expression. “I’m really all right, Mom, just exhausted. It’s not easy getting a sister married, you know! You two go on and have a great time. I’ve got jeans in the car, and I’ll just putter around here, putting stuff away.”

As she was saying good-bye to them at the door, she heard Cody talking to his father outside. “You go on; I’ll take David’s truck and get this stuff back to the church, then come back for my car,” he said. “I’m not really in the mood for any more partying today anyway.”

Hailey changed into jeans and a lavender T-shirt. She had forgotten to bring different shoes, so she padded around David’s kitchen in her bare feet. Her mind was numb, and she felt drained. She was grateful for the silence.

Her headache was finally beginning to ease when she made one final trip into the walk-in pantry with a bag of leftover sandwich buns. As she set them on a shelf, she heard something behind her and turned.

Cody was standing in the doorway of the pantry, one hand on each side of the doorjamb. She took a controlled breath, conscious of the rise in her pulse. She managed a smile.

“Hi! Get the chairs back to the church okay?”

He nodded, said nothing, and continued to stare.

“There’s plenty of cake left. Want some?”

He shook his head. She stared up at him; there was nowhere else to look. His collar was open, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to his elbows. His voice was low and husky when he finally spoke. “Talk to me, Hailey.”

She fought the tears. “I. . .can’t.” She tried to push past him, but he didn’t move, so she backed away from him, against the cupboard.

“Talk to me.” The softness in his voice broke her. It was everything she ached for, and everything she couldn’t have.

“I can’t!” She screamed it. “I can’t!” The sobs tore from her, and she slid to the floor. Then, somehow, she was cradled in Cody’s arms, curled on his lap like a child as he rocked her slowly, whispering in her hair.

“It’s okay, Hailey. I know, and it’s okay.”

“You don’t know, and you can’t know,” she sobbed into his shoulder.

He let her cry, then gently pulled the damp wisps away from her face. His hand nestled in her long hair, and just his thumb rested on her cheek. “You had an abortion, didn’t you?” he said.

She stared up at him, searching his eyes, her tears still flowing. “How did you know?” she whispered.

“It all came together after I talked to you last Friday. I was praying for you, and suddenly I knew. I knew why you didn’t want to work in the nursery, and why that talk at the community center bothered you, and why you’ve been avoiding me—maybe even why you pretended to be interested in Phil.”

Hailey almost smiled. “That was pretty stupid. We never did end up going out.”

Cody brushed his lips across the top of her head. “I’m glad,” he whispered.

Her head rested back on his shoulder. She was too spent to move. His hand stroked her hair, and his cheek rested on top of her head. “You know God has forgiven you, don’t you?” She nodded. “But you haven’t forgiven yourself.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to let yourself grieve, Hailey. You have to talk about it. Does anyone know? Karlee or Edna?”

“No. Just the. . .” She struggled for the right word. “The father.”

“Were you in love with him?”

“No. It was a one-night stand—we’d been drinking. . . . He never even knew I was pregnant, and he didn’t find out about the abortion until a year later.”

“How long ago was it?”

“A year and a half ago.”

“After I talked to you on Friday, I called a friend from church—I’ve known her since high school. She’s a volunteer at the crisis pregnancy center. They do post-abortion counseling, and she gave me some insight. I’ll go with you, if you want, but I’d like you to meet her.”

“Okay.”

He shifted her in his arms so he could look into her eyes. “There’s something I need you to believe, Hailey. I hurt for you, but this doesn’t change a thing. I mean. . .” He smiled and touched his thumb to her chin. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

She nodded, and he drew her closer, feeling her conform to his chest. He whispered into her hair, “It doesn’t change a thing.”