22

The thing Chase wanted to do more than anything in the world was make a difference in the war that was taking place in Pyper’s heart—a war between the past and present, between battle scars and fresh beginnings. The revelations they had shared, those precious, rustic moments beneath blue skies and earth-spiced air had left him with a burning fire at his core that called him to a solitary purpose—reconciliation. Trapped between two people of tremendous impact in his life, Chase needed to let them both know—no matter what—how much he cared.

That goal had been accomplished with Pyper. Time now, he figured, to extend that same gesture of faith and care to the one who had dredged hope from the ashes. It was time to face Mark once again.

Chase set up an appointment, so he’d be sure to have Mark’s undivided focus. He had nearly requested this meeting at Mark’s apartment, but Chase had worked through recovery of his own, and figured the solid ground of professionalism might serve them best for now.

After the receptionist announced his arrival, Chase moved at a brisk clip to the threshold of Mark’s office. When he stepped inside, Mark pushed away from his desk and welcomed Chase with a tentative grin. The old wooden chair in which he rested squeaked comfortably when he moved back and pointed to the chair across in invitation. “Come on in. Everything OK?”

“I’m good, thanks—no worries.”

That was always Mark’s first question, and first concern. Chase appreciated the fact that, no matter how complicated the undercurrents, Mark demonstrated faultless concern for his welfare. He needed to lean on that bottom line today more than ever.

“Glad to hear it.”

Chase refused an offer of coffee, and Mark heaved from his chair and rounded the desk. He claimed a chair next to Chase’s, and the meaning behind that gesture of equality didn’t go unnoticed. “So, what’s up?”

“I’m wondering if you’d mind me acting as a bit of an intercessor.”

Mark’s brow went up. “Depends. Are the two of us still on solid footing?”

Chase regarded the man. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Thanks for that. I need it.”

“And so do I. Never doubt it.”

At once, Mark relaxed; relief painted soothing colors against his softened features. Light. Affirmation. Goodness. Maybe that’s what it would take to wipe away decades of decay.

The realization gave Chase added courage. “You don’t need to thank me for anything. There’s more hard work to come. That’s why I’m here.” Chase edged forward against his chair. “I know I was rough on you, but it’s important that I look out for Pyper—not just important, necessary. Like breathing.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“But I need you to realize I’m looking out for you, too.” Chase sucked in a deep breath. “I need you to know that I completely understand the transformation that’s taken place in your life. You know I do. And I believe Pyper should hear you out, give you a chance.”

Mark seemed to visibly relax a little more at that, but Chase knew the comfort wouldn’t last long once he’d said his piece. “Understand, though, that I think she should give you a chance for her own good, not for yours.”

“Ouch.”

Chase shrugged. “I’m being straight with you here. It’s what you taught me, after all. I’m going to support you—as my sponsor, as my friend, as a man I know is changed. I’m going to do what I can to ease the tension between you and Pyper, but you need to understand that she’s hurting right now. She’s scarred, and that’s a hundred percent on you. You need to give her time. You need to let her vent and get out her resentment. It’s the only way you have a shot at a relationship with her. Be gentle.”

“I was gentle, Chase. I held my tongue and let her have her say. She doesn’t want to hear anything from me at all. Am I even gonna have the chance to try again?”

Chase shook his head, sensing Mark’s frustration—and yearning. “I hope so. I believe so.” In the end, he expressed the same conclusion to his mentor that he had with the woman who owned his heart. “If you keep at it, we’ll all come to terms, OK? Persist. Don’t expect her trust after one attempt. Let her know you’re not going to just...vanish…if things don’t go the way you want. Know what I mean?”

“I do—but this is a whole lot easier with you than with Pyper, that’s for sure.”

Chase couldn’t suppress an agreeing chuckle. “She’s a spitfire, but she’s also an incredibly warm, loving person.”

“I saw that, the other day, between flashes of hostility. Chase, I wish things were different. I wish I hadn’t hurt her so badly. I owe you an apology, too, for that sin of evasion you talked about a while back.”

Chase shook his head, lifting a pen and twiddling it between his fingers. “Mark, you weren’t alone in all this. I know that. You weren’t the only one who stepped back from God.” He tossed the pen aside as his restrained growl vibrated through the air. How could he properly express himself? “I’ve done a lot of thinking lately, and I found I can really relate to Pyper’s mama. Pyper told me all about her, and their history. Like Amy, I pushed through life figuring I was immune from anything bad. I was the successful lead singer, just like she was the cheerleader, the head of the youth group at her church. Like her, I felt like the golden child. God would take care of me no matter what I did. Amy’s stumble came in the form of an ill-advised physical follow-through on a high school crush. For me it was fame, women, and the bottle.”

Mark squeezed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Don’t do that, Chase. To any of us. There’s been enough recrimination and blame and sadness to cover any number of lifetimes. God made goodness out of the mistakes we made. He gave this world our daughter. She’s part mine, no matter what she chooses to do about it.”

“Hang on to the knowledge—the privilege—that you’re her father as you fight back, and earn a place in her life, but don’t consider that she’s yours at all. She’s His.” Chase motioned upwards and let that tidbit sink into the silence that stretched between them.

“You honestly think I should keep fighting? After the way she—”

“Yeah, I do.” The fire in his belly burned hotter than ever. “She wouldn’t be in my life without you. I’ll never, ever stop being grateful for that.” He swallowed over a hard, thick lump. “God’s given me more than I deserve. Keep at it. He’ll do the same thing for you.”

“No matter what, we’ll end up where God means for us to be.”

“That’s right. Like you, Mark, right here and right now. You’re helping people. You’re reconstructing lives based on the life God gave you, and that’s a blessing that will move into eternity for the people you counsel—and for you, too. You’re not the man she knew. Give her time, and she’ll realize that. You chose the path to life, even when circumstances went bad. When you found out Amy was pregnant, you could have just dropped her, or pushed at her to get an abortion. You didn’t. Instead, you tried.”

“And failed.”

“And came out refined by the fire.” It felt strange, assuming a mentor role with Mark, but Chase refused to budge on his convictions. He wanted to embrace this moment for all it was worth.

“It was either that or end up dead.”

“Which leads me back to the one thing I know to be true. God’s will is perfect, even when we fall and make mistakes, even when we mess up His plan and leave Him to pick up the pieces and reassemble them into something good. Just like you, Pyper has brought so many people to the core of God’s joy and goodness. That’s all His doing.”

Mark’s eyes went red and he sagged through the shoulders, leaning heavily against his knees. “I want to find a way back so badly.”

“Then see it through. Let it propel you past all of those fears she’s hanging on to so tight. If she didn’t want this as much as you do, she wouldn’t be fighting against it so hard. If she didn’t care, she’d blow you off and walk away. She can’t. She’s injured, but she wants the daddy of her youth to love her the way he should have in the first place. You’re ready for that opportunity, but she doesn’t quite believe it can happen. Underneath that tough, sassy exterior of hers is the little girl who’s been hurt. If you can make your way through, you’ll earn her trust and her love. I have no doubt. So, don’t give up. Keep treading lightly. You’re fighting the good fight, and she’s worth that battle. That’s what I wanted to say to you today.”



Puckett’s in downtown Franklin was jumping. The hostess weaved through tight space, directing Pyper and her dad to a tall table with stools positioned right by the window overlooking Fourth Avenue. A realization came to life, a memory that tightened Pyper’s throat and stirred a glaze of moisture across her eyes. The voice of her five-year-old self drifted through time and spirit. And heart.

“I decided something. Something important. I’m gonna be a singer when I grow up. Just like Tyler.”

Tyler took her hand loosely and gave it a gentle shake as they sat across from one another. “I remember, too, sugar beet. This is the exact spot we shared the first time you and I and your mom spent time together in Nashville. You were, what? Five?”

Pyper rolled her lips in and bit down. The effort at stemming tears failed. A pair of them trickled down her cheeks anyway. As always, Tyler offered comfort, smoothing them away with the brush of his fingertips beneath her lashes. In an instant, Pyper was that little girl once again, loving this man like the father he had become.

Confusion nearly overwhelmed her. Because of Mark Samuels. Uncertainty simmered and prickled beneath her skin. “You’ll always be my daddy. Always. No matter what.”

“That’s a given, sugar beet.”

Tyler seemed to gather his breath and his thoughts all at once. He ran his thumbnail across a scar on the time-worn wooden tabletop, the after effects of someone else’s cuts. So much like the genesis of their relationship, and the turmoil she now faced with Mark.

“Pyp, establishing solid ground, spending time with him, won’t change any of that.” Mischief danced through his eyes, lent a teasing curve to his lips. “And you know what? I’m about to go all ‘Dad’ on you, twenty-something or not.”

“Oh, boy. I’m in trouble.”

“Not at all.” Still, Tyler’s tone and expression turned serious. “I want you to think about something. You need to forgive him, Pyper. You need to get rid of the baggage and the pain he caused. Meet him halfway. It’ll make all the difference. I promise you that. He eats at your peace. Don’t let him. Don’t let him rob you twice, OK? That’s all I want to say. Maybe you’d find a way past all of it if you gave him the chance to—”

“No. I don’t need him in my life.” Strong, stubborn and hurt most of all, Pyper’s denial came in a low growl, but packed as much impact as a roar. Hostility etched its fine, cutting line against each word she spoke. “It’s too late.”

At that point, she opted out of the conversation, studying the people around her. She loved doing that on stage, too, connecting with as many smiling faces as possible. Like when she had sung alongside Chase. Lord help her she was confused…by everything.

That’s when something caught her eye, a vignette playing out at a nearby table presently occupied by a large family. “Hey, dad, look at her!” Pyper reached out and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention to a little girl decked out in a blue denim skirt fluffed out by thick layers of pink tulle and topped by a white T-shirt. Best of all, she absolutely rocked a pair of shiny, spanking new, pink leather cowboy boots.

“I remember when you and mom got married, and I moved down here for good. You got me a pair just like those for my birthday.”

“Every Southern woman should have ‘em. That and a horse. It took you maybe a week on the farm before you batted those lashes at me and asked for a pony.”

Pyper released a joyful laugh as the beautiful perfume of nostalgia swept in. “Briar was in our meadow by the next sunrise. Mom pretended to have a fit, mockingly accused you of spoiling me.” Pyper’s chin quivered. This man had erased so much of the horror in her life, and she was grateful. But was she grateful enough to take that last, terrifying step to reconciliation with the blood-related father who had acted like an emotional wrecking ball? Could she extend true forgiveness? She knew she should…but she didn’t feel able. She met Tyler’s gaze and gave him a tremulous smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sugar beet. Always and forever and take it to the bank.”

The ages old reply soothed the rough patches on her soul. “You’ve always been so good to me. You were always there. You showed me a father’s love. Nothing and no one can take away the fact that you are my dad.”

“True. But, if he’s sincere, if he’s trying, I think you owe him a chance.”

“I. Owe. Him. Nothing.”

“Don’t disappoint me, Pyper Marie.” The admonishment was tender, but unyielding. “If nothing else your Christian faith tells you as much. To do anything less dishonors everything we stand for and makes us nothing more than self-righteous, judgmental and wrong.”

“Dad.” The word was a one-time warning shot.

He ignored it. “Don’t cast stones. I know when he first showed up I told him to steer clear, and I promise you, Pyper, he won’t hurt you physically ever again. I won’t let him. But I can’t stop him from hurting you emotionally, spiritually, if you allow the hurt to fester inside you, and that’s tearing me up. Open your heart wide enough to give him a chance, Pyper. Let him know how you feel. He’s after that as well, and you have the right to express your pain. But you need to listen, too. That’s all I’m asking.”

That was all he asked, sure, but to Pyper, it felt like everything and more. She just wasn’t ready, or able, to push through.