“Losing your wife.”
He caught an edge in her voice that hadn’t been there since they’d arrived at the lodge. Something flickered in her eyes at a depth that he’d never seen before. Fear. Not fear for her life—fear for Ella.
“You don’t really want to talk about this.” He approached her. “Ella is going to be fine.”
Her whole body stiffened. Was she worried? Fearful?
He stopped closer to her than was good for either of them. “What brought this on?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s spending time with Jessie and seeing how healthy she is. Or maybe it’s Fowler.” She shook her head. “It just seems like Ella and I can’t get a break when all we want is a normal life.” She clutched her hands.
He understood. More than she could know. He’d lived with desperation, and he hated to see her suffer.
Ignoring warning bells clanging in his head, he took her hand and twined his fingers through hers. “You really want to know how I handled losing Diane?” He peered into her distraught eyes.
She gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“I had to keep things together for Jessie the same way I’ve seen you do with Ella. But inside, I was a wreck. I thought it was so unfair. That God was punishing me for something. It took months before God could get through and let me see He didn’t hate me or have it out for me.”
“Talk about role reversals. I remember telling you about my faith and you humoring me. Now you’re the one who’s truly living your faith again.”
His turn for surprise. “Are you saying you don’t?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I still believe, but everything’s falling apart around me, and God’s letting it. I can’t see Him in my life anymore.”
“He’s still there. You just have to look for Him.”
She tugged her hand away. “I want to believe that, but I can’t.”
“If we talk about it, maybe I can help.”
She stared at the floor and massaged her neck. “I don’t know if you can.”
He crooked a finger under her chin to tip her head up. “I’d like to try. If you’ll let me.”
Trust flickered in her expression for a moment before she looked away. “What do you want to say?”
Her brief second of renewed trust in him put a lump in his throat, and he swallowed hard before going on. “When’s the last time you remember feeling like God cared about you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I guess I started to question His presence after Ella got sick and Orrin left.”
“Tell me about it.”
“There’s not much to say. It was hard—really hard. I didn’t know if Ella was going to make it after her first surgery, and I had no one I could count on to be there for us.”
“What about your parents?”
“Well, yeah, they were there, but it’s not the same as having the father of your child with you.” Tears formed in her eyes. “Imagine if Jessie got sick and you had to carry the burden all alone.”
“Having Jessie abducted gave me a glimpse of your struggle, and I know the fear of losing a child has to be almost unbearable for you.” He rested a hand on her shoulder.
She shook her head. “Look at me—going on and on about my fears when you actually had to get through the pain of losing your wife.” She stepped away from him as if his loss diminished her fear.
He followed her. “Don’t shut down like that. Sure I lost my wife, but your fear is still very real, and I’d like to help you see how God can bring you through it.”
“I don’t think anything you can say will help.” Her voice was tiny and weak, as if she’d given up. “And I’m too tired to talk.” Her shoulders drooped.
He needed to let this go for another day, but he wouldn’t end on a down note. He had to leave her with hope. “Just promise me you’ll try to remember what your life was like when God was a part of it. When you could leave all of your problems with Him. Can you do that?”
