Chapter 8

eight

T wo days. That's how long it had been since David dropped Sadie off on her doorstep and almost kissed her under an umbrella in the rain. There was a reason people wrote songs about that. His warm body, his hand pulling her close, the look in his eyes—she would have kissed him, and enjoyed it, if not for the interruption.

For the first time ever, Sadie had been thankful for the stomach bug, because kissing David? That would have been a disaster. Even if they could move beyond all the hurt in their past, there was no way their futures could mix. She'd been honest with him when she told him she'd have followed him to the ends of the earth. But that was ten years ago. Now she had a daughter, a job, a life—and it was in Heritage.

But she was human, and he made her feel… things …she hadn't in years. How could she ignore the way his every touch made her skin burn? How every time he leaned close, she longed to curl into him? How she dreamed about their lips meeting again after ten years of separation?

Her phone vibrated on her desk. Romee. She'd been ignoring her sister since the messages started coming in late Saturday night.

Romee: *gif of a skeleton tapping its fingers. Still waiting for you to tell me about your date.

Romee: You can't ignore me forever.

Romee: Do I need to show up in your store? Because I can.

Sadie sighed and rolled her head around, stretching her neck. Too bad her sister would make good on those threats.

Sadie: There's nothing to tell.

Except for the way her waist still tingled where his hand had settled, pulling her closer, shielding her from the rain. Nope. Not sharing that.

Romee: Mom says his car idled outside your unit for ten minutes. That's a long time for nothing to happen.

Of course her mom had been spying. Nothing ever got by her when they were children. Nothing would escape her notice now.

Sadie: He walked me to the door in the rain. We were there only a minute or two before Doris dropped Lottie off because she had a stomach bug.

Romee: Poor Lottie.

Romee: But a minute is a long time. Nothing happened?

Sadie: Well, he didn't kiss me, if that's what you're asking.

Romee: That's like saying he's only mostly dead. Did he almost kiss you?

Sadie: I never almost kiss and tell.

Romee: *gif of little girl squealing and shaking her fists.

Sadie tucked her phone into her pocket, shaking her head. Romee would report back to Mom faster than—well, she probably already had.

Hopefully, the kiss that didn't happen wouldn't be enough to scare David from coming back in to work today.

But maybe it would be better if he didn't come in.

Food. She needed a snack. Sadie opened the bottom drawer of the desk and tried to pull out her new lunch tote—it matched Lottie's tie-dyed lunch box—but her finger caught on an old ledger, snagging her cuticle.

Ouch. Sadie immediately stuck her fingertip in her mouth. Oh, that hurt. But the cover of the ledger stayed open, and her dad's familiar handwriting peeked out at her.

After shaking her hand, she pulled out the book and flipped through the pages. The yellowed pages were filled with names and numbers. Some of the entries were over twenty years old, and the pencil markings had faded. There was an entry from Dale Kensington. He'd moved out of town years ago. She continued looking through the names.

Every single entry listed someone who took out a line of credit at the store.

She gripped the book to her chest and pushed back from the desk. It was too soon to get her hopes up, but maybe, just maybe, this would help her keep the store.

If these were really outstanding charges, perhaps she could collect a few of them. It would go a long way toward the remaining amount due to the bank. Since paying the bank had wiped out her savings, any extra funds would be appreciated.

The bell jingled, and Sadie stood up. She'd have to worry about this later. "Be right there."

"Just me," her father called back. Well then, she'd get a chance to talk to him now.

Sitting back down, Sadie opened the ledger and studied the names.

"Brought you some lunch. Your mom made soup and thought you'd like some." Her dad set a thermos on the desk and settled in the black plastic chair across from her. "Oh, I know that look. What's up?"

Sadie slid the ledger forward and tapped it. "Don't you think that this is something I should have known about? We have lines of store credit and a massive bill due. You didn't think to tell me about this?"

Her dad bristled. "Those are people in town who needed some help. Those are my friends, and this is between me and them."

"Are you serious right now?" What about her? What about the store?

Her dad nodded. "Yes."

"Who's running this store? You or me? You asked me to come home, to run the store. Have you changed your mind?"

Her dad's shoulders rounded. His wrinkles deepened. She hated fighting with him, and guilt racked her for upsetting him.

"Haven't changed my mind. But these credits weren't given to just anyone. Sometimes things are hard. Those people had big families, medical bills, a burst pipe, a large freeze that knocked out their crops—each person has a story. And while I do run a business, those are my people. And if I can help them out, I will."

"They should pay you back."

"They'll pay when they can."

"This isn't a charity, Dad. This is a business." Sadie shook her head. "Do you trust me to run it?"

Her dad scooted forward and placed his elbows on the desk. "You know I do. It's just…this is not just business. These are my friends."

"Friends who enjoy having a local hardware store. But we can't keep our doors open this way." Sadie let out a sigh. Her dad's jaw ticced. "Why not tell me about this?"

Shaking his head back and forth, her dad stood and paced away from the desk. "I saw those as personal, not business. But you're right, I should have told you about them. I guess I'm having a harder time letting go than I realized. But I trust you to do the right thing."

The bell jingled, and Sadie called out a greeting. "Work calls, Dad."

They walked to the front of the store together, her dad patting her on the back. "I'll tell your mom I gave you the soup."

When Sadie stepped out of the aisle, David stood with a tiny bundle of orange fur pressed against his firm chest, a cat carrier in one hand, bits of cat hair spread across his black T-shirt.

The kitten.

Her dad sneezed. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm allergic. Talk to you kids later." The bell jingled as he left.

David's gaze flickered to the door then back to Sadie. "You okay?

The kitten snuggled deeper into David's chest, and, wow, if it didn't make him even more appealing. Talking about anything other than her mixed emotions toward him would be easy.

"There's so much going on behind the scenes here. You have no idea."

David stroked the kitten's head and neck, making a soft shushing sound. "What can I do?"

She started to brush off the offer, but when she met his gaze, there was a depth of concern she hadn't been prepared for. It wasn't a throwaway statement. He really meant it. Had anyone ever offered to share the load with her? To help her out, not by doing it for her, but coming alongside her?

The tiny orange ball of fur held perfectly still in David's arms, his large, yellow eyes taking in the store. "You really want to help?"

David shifted the kitten so that he held it tightly in one arm. He used his free hand to grip her arm. "Anything you need."

Sadie gently scratched the kitten under his chin. Cuatro looked at her, his big, yellow orbs studying her. No wonder Lottie wanted a kitten so bad. "It's the store. Dad took out a mortgage. I found this ledger full of store credits. Dad says he issued those credits when people really needed help. He doesn't feel right asking them or reminding them."

"You run a business, Sadie. A good one. If people owe the store, it's okay to remind them. Send bills, talk to people."

"That's what I said. But my dad says he doesn't feel right doing that." They weren't running a charity, but it was her business, and the line between honoring what her dad wanted and doing what the business needed seemed jagged. The kitten yawned, his mouth opening wide. He was a cute thing. "What's his name again?"

David stepped closer, his breath fanning across her face. "Cuatro. Ready to hold him?"

David was so close. Close enough to touch, to smell, to kiss. His warm fingertips brushed against her arms as he passed Cuatro to her, the tiny fur ball purring and studying her with curiosity. Could a purring kitten really drain all the fight out of her? She'd heard that petting a cat was good for the soul, but to experience it firsthand…or was it the feel of David's large hand settling on her shoulder?

"I'll…I'll take the kitten upstairs. Show him where the litter box is." Maybe clear her head and figure out how to save the store.

"Do you mind if I look at the ledger you mentioned?" David's gaze never faltered.

"Why?"

"I am serious about helping. You don't have to figure it out on your own. Let me help you."

It would be great to have an extra set of eyes. But what if…There would always be a what-if. Right now, David was willing to be a second set of eyes. Someone to walk with her and help her out. "It's on my desk next to my computer if you want to look at it while I take the kitten upstairs."

The tiny body snuggled closer to her, trusting her, as she carried it up to her apartment. She showed the kitten the litter box and the food and watched him explore his new home, his curiosity winning out. What would it be like to be so trusting in a completely new situation? To have enough faith to explore, to try new things?

Could she have that kind of faith?

Could she go back downstairs and not only allow David to look at the ledger, but talk to him about her ideas and accept his offer of assistance?

The kitten jumped toward the sectional sofa and overshot the arm rest, sliding onto the cushion. Slightly startled with the landing, he sat down and started cleaning his face.

She could take a leap. Invite David in. Maybe with something smaller, less life altering than the business of the store. Like the kitten, if things didn't quite work the way she thought, maybe all she'd need to do was wash her face and try again.

Resolved that she could take a chance on David's offer of help, she returned to the store and found David helping Mrs. Allen pick out another paint color.

Sadie slid into her chair in the office and glanced down at the ledger David had left open. She closed it and pushed it aside. She'd start with something simple.

A few moments later, David settled into the chair across from her.

She pulled her lips in and squeezed them before letting out a breath. Just take the jump. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about webpages, would you?"

David held up his fingers about an inch apart. "I set up the school's webpage."

Of course he did. David could do everything. And he wanted to do things for her. Help her out. "I can't figure out the store website. Could you look at that, too?"

David nodded, scooting forward in his seat. "I'd be happy to."

Those simple words lifted the weight on her shoulders. She slid her computer around to face him. David pulled the computer closer and went to work. His face thoughtful, his thick hair flopping on his forehead. Occasionally, he'd rub his jaw and ask a few questions, but he eventually turned the screen around and showed Sadie a beautiful—could she call a hardware store website that?—layout.

Perfection.

It's just what David did. He jumped in, helped out. Almost like her knight in shining armor. Not that she was a damsel in distress by any means, but when she couldn't reach the top shelf, when the window needed washed, when drywall needed redone, when the website needed finished—David stepped in. He saw her. He saw the needs, and he filled them. Without prompting. Without her asking.

They did make a good team.

She studied the site, and a deep longing she'd buried long ago woke up. The desire to find someone who made her feel safe, seen, protected, valued. Someone who would be here, in the moment, with her.

Love.

Once upon a time, she'd called that feeling love.

She'd had those feelings for David, until he'd shattered her heart. Then she'd set a pipe bomb to her remaining feelings, swept them up and buried them. Until right now, when they clawed up, blooming into a warmth she'd thought she'd never experience again.

But she couldn't give a home to the happiness, the feelings . Costa Rica stood between them.

She could, however, accept his offer of assistance. It saved her from scrolling through her mental Rolodex to find the right person to ask. She could cash in on this lifeline, this phone-a-friend.

No one else offered her that. And she liked it. Liked that he was there to help. Liked that he didn't back away from a challenge. Liked that he wanted to be there for her.

She liked it a lot. Way more than she should.

It had been four days. Four days, and David still couldn't scrub the memory of almost kissing Sadie from his mind.

David picked up a set of heavier than usual weights and held them by his side as he stepped into position for a lunge. The familiar sounds of the gym and guys laughing faded into the background as he bent his knees, letting his back knee briefly touch the mat before he stood up.

David continued to repeat the move, his thoughts drifting back to a certain stubborn, intelligent, hardworking woman at the hardware store. Sadie carried so much on her capable shoulders—far more than she needed to. David had ached to take some of the weight from her. The webpage had been a simple fix, and she'd made him feel ten feet tall, praising his ingenuity.

For the first time since the accident, David could imagine a future. One he didn't have to fight for. One he didn't have to struggle to make happen.

One that included a beautiful woman and her spunky daughter. One right here in Heritage, Michigan.

But that wasn't right. He had to get back—for his students, for his supporters. For his calling.

David switched legs and started another set of split lunges.

"Thought I might find you here." Nate dumped a gym bag on the bench as David finished up this set of lunges.

"Where else would I be? We agreed to be here ten minutes ago." David set his left leg forward again and started another set.

Nate rubbed his jaw and let out a lengthy sigh. "Sorry. It's been a busy day at the church. How'd your dinner with Lance and Marco go?"

Air rushed out as he considered the night. He couldn't call it a complete disaster, because the feel of Sadie's waist under his hand stuck with him. "A mess. I spilled water all over the table, Charlotte thought we were a couple, and I almost kissed Sadie when I dropped her off."

Nate picked up a set of weights and lined up next to David. "Why not kiss her?"

David could think of several reasons. The main one? "Her life is here. We've already established that there's nothing more between us."

"Why not?"

"I have to get back to Costa Rica."

Nate stood up and switched legs in front. Then he continued lunging. "Why, David? Why do you have to go back?"

David allowed silence to fill the space as he did a few reps. "I've done a lot in Costa Rica. I'd like to continue. For my supporters. For my students."

"Your supporters want you to follow God where He is leading."

"That's Costa Rica."

"I believe it was once upon a time. But is it still? It's hard to pivot, but if God is asking you to, the best thing you can do is let go of your personal plans and follow Him."

David paused with his knee on the mat. "Missions work is God's will."

Nate sighed and stood up, turning to face David. "Have you ever stopped to consider that God's will is not one size fits all? It's tailored to fit each person and their unique life differently. God's will is not a specific calling that everyone has to follow in a robotic manner. Finding His will for your life is a daily activity. Every morning seeking God, following Him. God will help you adapt and stretch as you grow and age, if you are seeking Him. For some, yes, it's missions. For others it's being a pastor, or an accountant, or a teacher. Even a shopkeeper."

David shifted his weights so his arms curled up. He held them at shoulder level, spread his feet apart, and started squatting.

Nate continued. "Have you stopped to consider that maybe this accident and subsequent trip back to Heritage might be God setting you on a different path? He can use you anywhere. Look at me, Jon, Seth, Luke—pick any one of us—God has worked in our lives right here. He's using us here. You don't have to cut yourself off from everything you love to follow God. Perhaps He's asking you to change. To follow Him on a new path."

David pushed to standing and placed the weights back on the rack. "God needs people willing to go."

"I'm not denying that. I'm just asking you…have you asked God what He wants for your life today? Because sometimes God wants us to go, and sometimes He wants us to stay."

"He hasn't opened any other doors." David dug through his gym bag and pulled out his water, but even as he swallowed the beverage, he knew that wasn't true. How many times had Lance asked him if he was certain Costa Rica was his future?

David had refused to consider any other option.

Nate set his weights down on the rack and picked up another set. Sat down and started doing some bicep curls. "I've enjoyed having you close. I know your sisters have soaked up all the time you're willing to give them. You keep saying you want to hear God again. But, David, maybe you just aren't listening to what He is saying. And I know you feel God is silent right now, but let me ask you this—if you are only listening for one answer, are you really listening?"

Nate's phone buzzed from inside his gym bag. He dug around until he found it and then blew out a deep breath. "I need to take this. I'm sorry, David. I'll catch up with you later."

David finished his workout routine in silence, Nate's words reverberating in his mind. Maybe you just aren't listening.

Could that be it? Could God be leading him in a path that David didn't want to acknowledge? Had he only been listening for what he wanted to hear?

Okay, Lord. Whatever You want, wherever You want, I'm listening. Even if it wasn't Costa Rica, even if it wasn't the future David envisioned, he'd rather do whatever God wanted. Peace like he hadn't experienced since before the accident settled around him like a blanket he'd left behind in Costa Rica. That's what he'd been missing—the peace that came from living a surrendered life.

David hurried out to his car, flung his gym bag in, and started the engine, but his phone rang before he could back out of his spot. He opened his bag and dug around until he found it. Lance's name flashed across the front of his phone.

"Hey, Lance. Everything ok?"

Lance let out a sigh, and David could picture him loosening his tie. "It was good to see you at dinner last week. Marco and I enjoyed catching up. But…we've been talking to Chris."

Oh no. Lance's hesitation, the catch in his voice. He had something to say, and David could pretty much guarantee he wouldn't like it. "I'm not sure I know a Chris?"

"The young guy who was filling in for you in Costa Rica."

David's stomach squeezed. "Everything okay?"

Lance chuckled. A nervous sound, and David could tell he'd stood up. Probably pacing his office. "Great, actually. He loves Costa Rica. Loves the position. Loves the kids. Has even updated the webpage. Honestly, he wants to stay. Asked if this position could be permanent."

"But it's not. I'm going back." David closed his eyes and relaxed his head against the headrest. He waited for his stomach to drop, for his mind to race a hundred different directions trying to figure out how to keep his position. Instead, peace settled over him like a weighted blanket.

"That's the thing." Lance paused, and his chair squeaked again. He likely sat back down. "We told him the position was his. It's not that you can't go back to Costa Rica. Maybe in a different capacity, but Marco and I have talked, and both agree this is the right decision right now."

Nate's words came rushing back. Are you only listening for one answer? This was a pretty clear answer—Chris was taking his position. Permanently. What could he say?

Lance cleared his throat and took a sip of something. "With the position filled by someone else, it's time to let your supporters know you are changing paths."

David rubbed his chest. Most knew he'd come home after the accident, but if he wasn't going back, he couldn't continue to take their financial aid unless he had a new plan. "What if I go to a different location?"

"If that's the case, you need to make some decisions within the month so you can let supporters know. Some may not continue to support you in a new location, and you may need to find more people to partner with you if you change fields."

The call ended and David sat in the car, letting the now warm air blow on him. He should feel frustrated, disappointed, angry even, not peaceful.

David's mind flashed to Sadie—her resilience, her ability to bounce back, the weight she carried on her shoulders.

He had no future. No plans. No idea what God wanted from him, only what He didn't want from him.

The idea should settle like a pair of shoes two sizes too small, but that weighted blanket of peace didn't budge.

Okay God, I'm ready for whatever You have next.

Nothing.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe part of surrendering was not just letting go of the what but also the when. So, until God opened a clear path, David would stay where he was—in Heritage. Enjoying his family and helping Sadie.

He'd figure out what to tell his supporters soon.