Faithfully Yours Page 17

“Needless to say, we’re happy that Miss Langford and her charges had no contact with the men.”

  “But she might have run into them later,” Jeremy exploded, staring at Gillian in dismay. “I can’t believe you would let her go off shopping under such circumstances. She was probably nervous and confused and needed watching.” He glared at her accusingly.

  Gillian felt the heat of her own anger rise up. She’d known he would find a way to blame her. Good grief, she blamed herself.

  “Faith wasn’t nervous or confused,” she said, rebutting his erroneous conclusions. “She said she was hungry. We sat down together and ate lunch.”

  “Ah. So then you just let her wander off by herself. Good thinking.”

  “No, we did not let her wander off by herself. Although she is a grown woman and fully capable of deciding that for herself.” Gillian bristled at the sarcasm in his voice.

  “Auntie Fay wouldn’t even be making these choices if she was in a nursing home. Someone competent would be caring for her.”

  The blue in Jeremy’s eyes had frozen into a hard glittering glacier of reproach and Gillian wondered how she had ever thought she could rely on him when he had just made such an abrupt about-face. He didn’t care about her, not really. She was just a convenience; there to blame everything on when he needed a scapegoat

  “I am competent,” Gillian said between clenched teeth. “We were taking turns shopping with her. Suzy said Faith wanted to sit down for a moment. She agreed to wait there while Suzy paid for their purchases. When she returned, Faith was gone.”

  “My aunt should never have been left alone.” Jeremy’s low voice was full of scorn. “Someone with a more serious outlook on life would have recognized the precariousness of her situation.”

  Gillian whooshed out her anger on a sigh of frustration as she glared at the tall grim-faced man.

  “Someone like you, you mean? Someone who wants to keep that wonderful woman jailed in a cell for old people. Someone who won’t let her enjoy anything in her life without a watchdog there to make sure she won’t take too much pleasure, have too much fun.”

  “If this is your idea of fun, Gillian, I’m afraid I have to agree. I would never have subjected my aunt to these crowds and confusion. Once again, your irresponsibility has landed someone else in trouble.” His face was cold and hard with disdain as he frowned down at her.

  Gillian felt all the pleasure and wonder she had known in his arms, the joy when his lips melted on hers, suddenly drain away. She should have known, she told herself. She should have known it couldn’t last. He had an image of her that could not, no, would not be swayed. It really didn’t matter what happened between them now. Jeremy had just proven his total distrust of her whole theory on enjoying life. And it hurt. A lot.

  “We’d better get looking,” she told him softly. “There’s no point in standing here arguing anymore. You just can’t, or won’t, accept that your aunt is a thinking, feeling human being, who is fully capable of making her own choices in life.”

  “Someone made a choice here,” he expostulated. His mouth curved bitterly. “The wrong one.”

  “You can’t keep her fenced in, Jeremy.” Gillian tried one last time to force him to see. “You’ll only hurt her if you try.” With that she walked away, joining three of the girls who were starting the search once more.

  For over an hour they combed through the throngs of people, moving here and there when they thought they spotted Faith, only to turn away disappointed when an unfamiliar face peered back. Several times Gillian sent one of the girls to check the food area, but there was no good news.

  “Let’s just check outside, along the parking area. Perhaps someone has seen her or knows where she might have gone.” They had only gone a few steps toward the exit doors when Glenda pointed.

  “Look,” she gasped excitedly. “Mr. Johnson’s found her.”

  And sure enough, there was Faith, beaming happily, her arm curved into Arthur’s as they strolled across the mall.

  “Don’t ply her with a bunch of questions just yet, girls,” Gillian advised them quietly. “She might be a little confused. And we’ll want to get her to Jeremy right away.”

  “Hi, Faith. All done your shopping now?” Suzy’s voice bordered on tremulous when Faith greeted the other members of the search party now seated at an empty table.

  “My dear, I simply gave up. I decided to get a breath of fresh air. That’s when I heard the church bells.” She had a vague, faraway look in her eyes, but other than that, the older woman seemed perfectly fine.

  Gillian breathed a sigh of relief as she whispered a prayer of thanksgiving. “I’m going to have Jeremy paged,” she told Arthur. “Could you stay with her?”

  The older man’s faded eyes twinkled merrily. “I intend to keep her by my side for the rest of our lives,” he confided.

  Gillian whispered a word to the hovering guard and watched him hasten across to his office. Moments later the announcement boomed around the mall.

  “I’m so happy for you, Arthur. You’re exactly what Faith needs,” she told him grinning. “But you might have an argument from Jeremy on that.” Her face fell. “He wants to put her in a nursing home.”

  Arthur’s face shone with an inner light, and Gillian noticed the gentle way he enfolded Faith’s hand in his.

  “Nothing is stronger than love,” he told her softly, nodding his head toward the young man who was rushing down the aisle toward them. “Not even him. You just have to have faith.” He grinned. “And Faith!”

  Gillian watched as Jeremy hugged his aunt with relief. She listened to his questions and Faith’s soft answers.

  “Oh, piffle,” she exclaimed in vexation. “I’m so sorry I worried everyone. I heard the bells, you see. And I wanted to explore the church a little closer. Oh, Jeremy, the choir they have there! It’s like a group of angels.” She closed her eyes in remembrance and drew a deep breath. “I could listen for hours.”

  “You did.” Gillian laughed and ignored Jeremy’s glaring eyes. “But I’m glad you enjoyed this excursion as much as the girls did. And I’m sure the guys had a wonderful time skiing, too.”

  “I did,” John Vernon informed them. “But I was sure glad we had to leave early. My legs are tired!” The other boys concurred with varying degrees of grimacing, and Gillian smiled at them all.

  “Well, I think it’s time for supper. How about the rest of you?”

  “Pizza,” Suzy chirped. “But not here. We need some fresh scenery.” Everyone except Jeremy, Faith and Arthur burst out laughing at her assessment of their worrisome afternoon. The older couple were too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to hear the discussion, but Jeremy made his feelings known.

  “I think we’d better wait to eat until we get home,” he decreed. “It is a bit of a drive and I’m sure my aunt is tired.”

  “Why don’t we ask Faith what she’d prefer to do?” Gillian murmured into the dismayed silence of the children. “We can’t guess about her feelings. We should ask her.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Faith murmured, glancing from Arthur to Jeremy. “As it happens, I’m starving. Those faritas we had at lunch were good, but there wasn’t much to them. Pizza sounds wonderful.”

  “Fajitas, Mrs. Rempel. They’re called fajitas. But I thought you had a taco salad?” Suzy peered at her friend in concern, obviously wondering about her memory.

  “Oh, I did. And then I had the faritas. And Mexi fries.” Faith beamed at the young girl. “Such small portions they give,” she complained, rubbing her stomach.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’m sure I don’t know what I’m going to do about this quilt project for Faith and Arthur’s wedding,” Charity Flowerday complained to Anita as they sat together beside the quilt frame assembled in Charity’s front room. “Every other year I’ve made a quilt for someone as a special project. But this year my hands are too stiff to do more than a few stitches here and there.”

  “Why, I’ll help you, of course
,” Anita murmured, her eyes brightening as she stared down at the colorful blocks. “I love to quilt And the boys do sleep for a while each afternoon.”

  “Thank you, dear. That would be a great help.” Charity patted the slender white hand gently and smiled vaguely. “It’s not just the quilt that’s bothering me, of course. I had so hoped and prayed that Faith would be happy this Christmas.”

  “But I hear Mrs. Rempel is getting married on Christmas Eve. I’m sure she couldn’t be happier. She just glows.”

  “Harrumph! That’s the problem right there. She and Art want to get married, and it would be a wonderful match, but that silly old Jeremy is putting a spike into the works. I declare, if I were a little stronger, and that man a little smaller, I’d put him over my knee.” She nodded toward her best china teapot sitting on the table.

  “Pour the tea, would you, Anita? I just want to soak in a little more of this lovely warmth, and then I’ll put the heating pad away.”

  “Are your hands very bad?” Anita asked, her forehead furrowed with concern.

  “Yes, today they certainly are. This time of year is usually good for me. Once that cold weather sets in, the arthritis seems to settle down. But with all this warm, cold, warm, cold, they ache constantly.” She grimaced. “Now I’m not going to bore you with all the ugly details of getting old. You’re far too young and pretty for that.”

  They sat sipping the strong, fragrant tea and munching on the shortbread Anita had baked only that morning.

  “Did I tell you that Sean’s coming home next week?” Anita asked, her face a happy reflection of the good news. “He’s managed to save quite a lot while he’s been in that camp up north. There was nothing to spend it on.” She frowned as she replaced her cup on the saucer. “Of course, the work is over now, so we’ll have to make it last. There’s not much work for him around here.”

  “Anita! That’s wonderful news. I know how lonesome you and the boys have been and what a big load you’ve been carrying on those small shoulders. We’ll just have to pray that the Lord will provide something around here for him.” Charity’s face grew thoughtful. “And it wouldn’t hurt to throw in a word or two for those two,” she murmured, jerking her head toward the window where Jeremy and Gillian stood outside arguing.

  “They’ll be there all day if one of us doesn’t let them in,” Anita said lightly. “I’ve never seen two more opposite people. They argue over everything.”

  “Yes, it’s sad, isn’t it? I remember a time when the two of them had begun to get along quite well. Faith’s plans only seem to have helped draw the battle lines.” She shook her head sadly. “I never really understood how they came to be engaged, but now that they are, I do wish they could find some common ground.”

  “They have,” Anita chuckled, rising from her seat on the sofa. “Their common ground today just happens to be in the street outside your door. I’ll go get them, shall I?”

  Without waiting for a response, the slim, elegant figure disappeared toward the front of the house. Charity clicked off the heating pad and sat staring at it bemusedly.

  “I just have to find a way, Lord. Anita and her family are coming along fine now, and it’s time I focused on Faith. She deserves happiness, Lord, and I know Art will make her very happy.” She sipped her tea absently, staring down at her swollen ankles. “It’s just that Jeremy’s putting so much pressure on her right now. It must be so distressing. Could you just give me a sign, some little signal that this will all work out?”

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Flowerday.” Jeremy Nivens’s low rumbly voice filled the tiny room.

  “Of course, dear. Please come in, won’t you? Anita, do we have any more tea?”

  “Um, we don’t really want any…”

  “I’d love a cup,” Gillian’s bright voice broke in. “I’ve been slaving over this ridiculous concert for ages. My feet are killing me.”

  “Of course they are. Do sit down, Gillian, dear. How is the school pageant going?”

  “Wonderfully!”

  “Awfully!”

  “Well, there seems to be some disparity of opinion here,” Charity chuckled. “Which is it?” She could feel the spark of tension as her two guests glared at each other.

  “It was going all right,” Gillian began. “The kids were starting to learn their songs and the glee club has come along really well.”

  “And thank you so much for making those cummerbunds and ties,” Jeremy told Anita, accepting the tea from her with a smile. “When we get them all dressed in white shirts and dark slacks, they’ll look wonderful.”

  “I enjoyed sewing them,” Anita murmured. “It was nice to be able to repay you for all you’ve done.”

  “The choir bit sounds lovely,” Charity murmured, glancing from one to the other. “We’ve haven’t had a children’s choir here for ages. Why were you arguing?”

  “Because Gillian claims she can’t get all the children to learn their parts in a week, and that’s all we’ve got left.” Jeremy scowled across at his fiancée and Charity smothered the grin that twitched at her lips as Gillian glared back.

  “And?”

  “He wants to do The Nutcracker Suite,” Gillian wailed on a note of pure frustration.

  “Do you mean the ballet?” Charity gasped, dumbfounded by his aspirations.

  “Yep. Costumes and all. I just can’t do it all and cover my lesson plans, too. There’s too much work.” Gillian’s face was flushed with anger. “He—” she stabbed a finger in Jeremy’s direction “—thinks I’m whining and not trying hard enough, but I just can’t do any more. I promised to help Faith with the wedding, and that takes a lot of time, too.”

  “A wedding that shouldn’t even be taking place,” Jeremy grumbled. He glared at Charity. “What’s the rush, anyway? It’s not as if they’re two young lovers. They’ve known each other for years.”

  “Which is why they don’t want to waste any more time,” Gillian hurled at him. Charity watched her green eyes blazing with indignation. “You’ve thrown up every barrier you can to their happiness. Shame on you. Why can’t you be happy for her?”

  “Because she’s wrong!” He slammed the teacup down on the table in a manner that had Charity worrying about her Royal Doulton china.

  “She’s not wrong. She’s deliriously happy!”

  “She’s delirious, all right,” Jeremy agreed with grim concern. “Yesterday I found her out on the front lawn golfing!”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Charity asked, hiding her dismay behind a facade of well-being.

  “At twenty-five below? In three feet of snow? I’d say it’s enough to have her committed.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Gillian’s face had paled to an alabaster white that frightened Charity. “She was trying out an idea I had for youth group next week—snow golf. She’s not crazy.”

  “Well before any of this goes any further I’m taking her to that old fellow, what’s his name?” Jeremy thought for a moment “Doctor Green, I think it is. I want her to have a complete physical and then I’m going to speak to the man myself, just to make sure.” He glared at Gillian defensively.

  “You’re just looking for a label so you can classify someone else’s perfectly natural idiosyncracies on that chart of yours.” But Charity could see the despair behind Gillian’s brave facade.

  Charity glanced from one to the other of the opponents and decided the Lord had given her a sign. This was going to be her Christmas project, no doubt about it. If she could keep these two from killing each other before Faith’s wedding, she would have done everyone a favor.

  “Jeremy, you wouldn’t really have her committed, would you?” Gillian’s voice was full of fear and foreboding.

  “I’ve already seen the woman at the nursing home,” Jeremy muttered, a tide of red coloring his cheeks. “Melanie something or other. She says that they have a bed open right now and that with Alzheimer’s patients it’s best for them to have constant care.” His voice lowered. “I’ve come to suspect t
hat’s what’s wrong with her.”

  His face grew red under Charity’s dire look. “I don’t want to do it, but she’s going to need professional care. A lot of it. I know I can’t manage it on my own. Not without quitting my job. The woman at the nursing home said such arrangements rarely work out best for the patient anyways.”

  “My Melanie?” Charity blazed angrily. “My daughter told you that?” She glared at him balefully. “I’m sure she didn’t know exactly whom you were planning on getting into that bed, did she?”

  Charity could see she was right. She struggled to her feet with difficulty. Moving slowly across the room, she came to stand in front of her best friend’s nephew and fixed him with her most severe look as her cane rapped him twice against the ankle.

  “Now you listen to me young man, and you listen well. I am most distressed to hear such talk. Faith Rempel has been my dearest friend for more years than I can remember, and I will not have you destroying the happiness she’s finally managed to find. After all these years she deserves to be with Arthur.”

  “But she’s my aunt,” Jeremy protested, surging to his feet.

  “Sit down and don’t speak again until I invite you to,” Charity hissed through clenched teeth. He sat. “Faith is your aunt, although what she did to deserve such a miserable nephew, I can’t imagine. Do you mean to sit there and tell me that you actually thought you might have your dear ‘Auntie Fay’ committed to a nursing home against her will, without her consent? This is your idea of love?”

  “I wasn’t really going to go through with that,” he muttered, his face flushed as he stared at his hands.

  Charity breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on the chair Anita had pushed close for her to use.

  “I certainly hope not,” she muttered. Her hand gripped the cane as she stared at him. “Judge Conroy is a friend of hers and I don’t think you’d get it passed, but even the attempt would wound poor Faith so deeply.” She poked her cane against his leg. “Don’t you read your Bible, boy?”

  “Yes, of course I do,” he answered, his dark eyes glaring at her belligerently. “Every day.”