Christmas Rescue Route Page 8

  “I don’t want to argue about this now. We have such a short amount of time together before you need to leave. And for the record, I have known long-distance pairings that do work out. Think about all those Christian dating sites. People fall in love over the Internet. Couples meet on-line and marry after a few hours of being together in the flesh. We can keep in contact through social media and telephone.”

  He bounced his knee, a sign she recognized as a nervous habit.

  “But that doesn’t sit right with me. I need the tangible, the physical presence so I can read your feelings. And mine.”

  “We can use a visual option.” Brock tapped her lips with two fingertips. “If God planned for us to meet at this time in our lives, and for us to be together in the future, He’ll work out the details. Graduation isn’t that far off. Besides, there are sports teams everywhere.”

  “And if God plans it, you will be a successful author who has proven to your father that you’re a Bible teacher as well.”

  “We aren’t talking about me right now.”

  10

  The following day, instead of mentally planning a video for her intern application, or looking forward to final courses, Izzy battled her meandering mind. She wandered along the rim of the creek bank, lost in thought. Brock overshadowed almost everything. She’d never gone gaga over a boy in middle or high school, and a guy had no part in her college equation. She’d always been grounded and stuck to her goals. This, whatever “this” was called, she couldn’t get a handle on. And every time she pictured him or remembered their times together, her heart quickened. She drew shallow breaths rather than the way she’d trained to breathe deep.

  He had calmed her fears and given his time to her in the front seat of her wrecked car, at the hospital, in the wee hours. Brock had poured out selfless love.

  One moment she freaked because she didn’t have a car parked outside, and the next she wondered if she were crazy to consider relenting and accepting Brock’s offer.

  What did a woman do with all the emotion the mere mention of his name flooded through her soul? The only thing she could compare it to was absorbing an operatic aria, filling her pores, and lifting off on the winged notes of the orchestra.

  An outlet. She needed an outlet.

  Her feet crunched over the snow where drifted ripples lay on top of the dried grasses of autumn. A fence stood in her way. She didn’t feel like stepping into drifts where she’d sink to her thighs. She opted to retrace her tracks, and teetered into the indentations she’d already made.

  Name these feelings. Get in touch with them. Soar with them.

  How did one sort out all those emotions without a way of expression? All she had to do was hear the mention of Brock’s name, picture his face, and she remembered the passion of their kisses. Those thoughts increased her awareness, her heart rate, her breathlessness, that panting sensation that stole over her and wanted to make her weep for loss of making any sense of it all. Mere words evaporated. Should she go with the flow and discover where she landed?

  This crazy mixed-up disconnection must be love. She had it bad.

  “Lord, I’m outside where I often get in touch with You and what I’m feeling. Open my eyes to what’s around me and please help me sort through this mess I’m dealing with.”

  The damp, overcast day set the scene for contemplation. Cloud cover hid the sun.

  Thankful she could summon a sunny disposition, Izzy refused to give in to a threatening, gray day. She considered Brock. Her heartbeat raced. She wanted to give in to her awakening feelings and fully experience all a relationship could bring.

  The tap of a beeping horn pulled her out of her reverie. She rushed to meet Brock. Her heart tumbled and her feet stumbled.

  He leaped out of the truck and swung her in his arms. They circled as he warmed her lips. Even outdoors, her head swam from lack of oxygen, or so she imagined, as they pulled apart.

  She licked the creamy coffee taste of him on her lips while he shut his door. He lifted his arm with the intent of putting on his stocking cap. But she stayed the motion, took the knit bowl from him and set it over his longish hair.

  He moved to adjust the fit.

  She shook her head. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled off her gloves and jammed them in her pockets. Then she held on to the ends of the cap, relishing the texture of his hair, she played with the ends and settled the fabric over his earlobes.

  Brock covered her hands, drew them to his mouth and caressed her fingertips with his lips. His breath, warm and moist, brought tears to her eyes.

  “I know, love, what we’re feeling here is too strong for words, isn’t it? I’m so full of you, I could cry, too.” He pulled her gloves from her pocket and slid them on, making sure each finger fit exactly as purposed. He guided her in, holding on to her gloved hand. “Why does that bird feeder look odd?”

  Glad to have something else to think about, she squinted. Then she picked up their pace. When they were six feet away from the feeder, she didn’t know if she should laugh or what exactly to do. But it was her turn to go to the rescue.

  “Do you think Chance did this?” Brock’s voice held humor.

  “I have no idea, but I doubt it. I don’t think he’s been out yet today. My guess is the wind or a squirrel. I suppose it is possible Mom didn’t get it closed after filling them. Crazy to think the bird got in while it was open and then the lid closed. Help me get the finch out, please.”

  The goldfinch teetered on top of the sunflower seeds. Occasionally, it picked up a seed, cracked it open, and spit out the shell.

  “What do you think?” Brock’s voice tickled her ear.

  “Watch.” Izzy opened the hole at the top of the feeder and tipped the container. Brock caught the spilling seed from the feeding tray.

  The bird blinked. Little by little, it wobbled along with the newly formed hill of seed until it reached the hole and flew to freedom.

  Brock dropped the seed from his hand through the open lid.

  Izzy closed it. “It’s a freakish odd thing, and yet I can’t help but wonder why God allowed the bird to be trapped with us here to free her.”

  “We’ll laugh about it later. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first.”

  “Me either, but there’s a message here somehow. I know how that poor little bird felt. I’ve had that same feeling of entrapment three times now. I have no doubt the bird flew in or hopped through that open lid, and trapped itself. Initially, my incidents of being trapped were none of my own doing. But by reliving what happened to me, I’ve become trapped within my own wrong thinking.” Was she trapping herself now with the idea of loving Brock after knowing him such a short time?

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting cold. Is there something warm to drink inside?”

  “Any manner of things. I need to hold on to a warm mug myself.” And sort out what this new insight might mean.

  Suddenly aware of the way her body tensed, it was time to take some sort of action. She wasn’t easily riled, but she recognized the signs and needed to arrest the building stress before it grabbed hold. What should she do next? Take a chance and trust Brock to get her to Denver? Trust the insurance agent and Dad to work things out? Without her own wheels here in Nebraska, how could Dad take care of getting her a car once she was back in Colorado?

  No matter the steps, she needed to plan and do it herself.

  ~*~

  “You don’t need a car yet.” Brock blew a gust of frustrated air. His leg bounced against the table leg in triple time. “You have me. I can stay a day or two and help locate a vehicle. God, your dad, and I. We all have your back.”

  “Please stop bouncing. You’re spilling my hot chocolate. You don’t understand. I have to do something to resolve this myself. I’m not one to sit back and let others do things for me.”

  “I don’t really get what we’re fussing about. Izzy, I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know how God orchestrates these things, but I’m fa
irly sure what I’m feeling for you is love. I believe it can happen at first sight.”

  She set down her mug and stared out the window.

  Her profile took his breath away.

  “This is way too fast for me. I need the time to get in touch with my feelings. Such pressure makes me feel as trapped as the bird in that feeder.” She sucked in a gulp of air, and covered her mouth. “Forget I said that. Surely, you can understand. Just think about the pressure you must have felt when you thought your dad was insisting on a Bible college for you. Instead, you ignored the fact that such study may have allowed you to follow your dream of becoming a writer.”

  “This isn’t the time to go into all that. I do believe that now, thanks to you, I can use my life experience. I can apply those to research in order to be a Bible study leader, as well as a writer.” He jounced his leg, realized it bounced on its own, and tapped his thigh with the outside edge of his fist. “Why do you fight the idea of me driving you back? Think of all those hours we can talk and work out the big issues of life and our respective futures?” I pray according to Your will, Father, regarding Your future for Izzy and me, apart or together.

  He drank in her beautiful features, though she wore a frown, as she sipped from her mug.

  “Please let me do something on my own first. I know a friend from school whose parents live in Omaha. I don’t know if she drove home for the holidays or flew. I need my freedom, Brock. I need lots of time to discover what I’m supposed to do in each life situation. That’s how I grow.”

  “God will show you the way.”

  “Deep down, I know that. But I feel a time crunch. With the demand of classwork, study time, and my job, I can’t do what I really want to do right now because of time restrictions.”

  He covered her hand with his and rested it on his thigh. “What do you wish you had time to do right now in your life?”

  “I want to be able to show Mom and Dad how much I love them for the sacrifices they’ve made for me. My initial school loans and my vehicle, even though it’s wrecked now.”

  “Admirable. God’s in the timing of our lives, even when we mess up. Your parents love you and they expect nothing from you except to be who God wants you to be as you love Him.”

  Her expression asked questions without the use of words. Emotions chased one another over her features as though a director gave her cues. She still held something back. What dark shadow of her heart was she hiding from him?

  Chance stormed in from outside. “You two and your dimples. Must be in another basementy talk. When’re you going to bring Oscar out again, Brock?”

  “Tomorrow, if you can keep him entertained while I take your sister to a movie.”

  She tickled the top of his leg where he still held their hands. “As in a date?”

  “As in a movie date, Ms. Kinesiology. You pick one out.”

  Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough to suit him.

  11

  Izzy swallowed the lump in her throat. It was time. Almost time for Brock to bring their drinks to the table. And most important, way past time for her to divulge what pushed her through life, the past that came to mind most every day. Brock had bared his soul to her concerning angst with his father. She had something to unload she’d even kept from the therapist.

  She sensed his presence and turned from the window to catch him standing still and staring. She spread her hands wide, using them to ask what.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? I’ve never had the desire to paint, but what a picture you make.”

  “I’m touched you think so, but please sit. I need to tell you something.” She could almost hear him think it’s about time.

  He slithered out of his coat and took her hand. “Lord, before we enjoy these delicious milky tea drinks, thank You for gracing us with the viewing of a good, clean movie. Thank You for having us meet. Thank You for knowing the paths for our lives. And now I ask that You help Izzy. I can tell by the look on her face what she wants to say won’t come easy for her. Please bless the rest of our time together this evening and all the future times we will be together. Amen.”

  “You are something else. I’m always saying thanks to you. I needed that prayer.”

  “I believe we need each other. Taste your chai, I asked for an extra shot of zing, and I’m guessing we won’t discuss that movie we just watched.” He sobered and released her hand. Then testing his drink, he licked off the froth from the corner of his mouth. “Take your time.”

  “Bossy.” She said it with a smile and blew into the spicy froth. Two sips later, she reached for the strength of his hand where it still rested on the table top. “I have dealt with more than being locked in a shed, fighting for my virtue in the backseat of a car, and the car accident. My dearest friend died when we were seniors in high school. I’ll always believe I could have done something to prevent it. Because of what happened I’ve always wanted, always needed, to put things that touch my life into motion myself.”

  He squeezed her hand. “A form of control, understandable. But much of life is out of our control.”

  “I’m seeing that more and more.” She enjoyed more of her hot drink.

  “Tell me what happened when you’re ready. We aren’t in a hurry.”

  “I knew about the drug use. I talked her down from committing suicide twice when she wanted to end her life. I should have stepped in and gone to the high school counselor, or brought up my concern to her parents.” Izzy swiped a tear and hated wrinkling her whole face to prevent another crying jag over this subject.

  Brock reached out and smoothed her brow.

  She latched onto his hand, lacing her fingers between his. “She texted me for help the night she died. She was at a party and took something that scared her. It wasn’t intentional, yet I believed she’d put herself in harm’s way. I didn’t answer.”

  “I’m so sorry. You loved her. I get how you felt responsible. But sweet, you weren’t responsible for her actions.”

  “My head knows that, but my heart couldn’t deal with the guilt. I stayed home from school for a whole week. I selfishly took the blame. And sometime during that week, I became obsessed with becoming a success. I’ve always felt I can control my destiny. With God’s help.”

  He pulled back his hand, leaned into the corner of the booth seat, and studied her. Now he wore the frown.

  “You don’t have to say it.” Could they really be so in tune as to read each other’s thoughts? “I know God is in control of my destiny. But I can’t help but think I need to be doing something to bring about success, to help Him out. I ask myself, what does success mean in today’s world? Life is hard. I want security.”

  “I agree; life is hard. The Bible never quotes God as saying life is easy. We’re sinners. Our attitudes can release the hard stuff if we remember our security for the long haul is all wrapped up in faith and trust that God has our backs.”

  “I can’t help but picture life as a dream or fantasy. It should be easy instead of hard, but I think I’ll have an out if I fail after college, I could always start over, somehow with magical wealth in an exotic locale.” She attempted a smile that fell flat.

  “Sounds like you’ve had too much time to think during this break from school.” He showed his dimple and his eyes crinkled. “Unless you’ve been thinking about me and all those hours we’ll have traveling west…”

  Izzy smiled into the dregs of her cup, swirling dots of cinnamon. Maybe it was nutmeg. No matter. “I believe you’d be a really good Bible counselor. I’ve realized tonight, saying these things out loud, that I’ve kept myself busy living moment-to-moment as a diversion to prevent facing a future where I could miss someone else’s cry for help, and ultimately let them down. Another friend could die.”

  “Only God knows about the counseling thing in my future. And He alone knows the people who will come into your life in the future. But you’ve drawn deep basementy, as Chance would say, buried stuff out of my past to make me a bet
ter person. We’re good for each other, Iz.”

  “It’s not easy for me to accept help. I’ve always believed that I can do it, whatever that may be. I still hope I can accomplish what I need to, with God’s help.”

  “Have you tried asking Him first before you attempt things on your own?”

  “I’m learning.” She broke their hand-hold, left her seat to slide in next to him. For the first time tonight, she gave him a quick kiss, keeping eye contact. “All right. I give. My friend from school flew to Omaha over break. I finally prayed as the last resort. No answer came. That said, I’m sure I’m meant to accept a ride from you. We’ll leave early New Year’s Day.”

  “We have a couple days. Let’s go rescue Chance from Oscar and make plans for New Year’s Eve, unless you have another hot date.”

  ~*~

  Brock opened his truck door and held her elbow while Izzy climbed up, thankful she was his hot date. He liked her shapely legs, even if they were covered in black tights or whatever they were called. “I hope you don’t think it’s dorky going to a movie on New Year’s Eve. We’ve been with family. We don’t go out and party, so our choice comes down to a movie. You look as beautiful as Christmas, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Hope you don’t mind me wearing the same dress as on Christmas Eve, but it’s the only dress I packed.”

  He climbed in his side and put the truck in gear.

  “Thanks for the heat. I’m always saying thanks. It’s so cold I’m glad you left it running.”

  “Welcome. As for your dress, I love you in red. I haven’t met a guy yet whose motor didn’t rev over a beautiful woman in red.”

  “Any more talk like that and I’ll wonder how safe I am with you.”

  “You better know by now how safe your virtue is with me.”

  “I do know. As Dad reminded me, if any one of my family members didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be riding back to Colorado with you tomorrow.”

  “Seems to me you’ve had wise guidance from your parents.”