"I heard from some of Ashley's friends that Landon was teased for his devotion to her. He didn't care. He told me once he'd keep asking her out until she said yes."

John remembered Ashley's reasons for not saying yes as clearly as if he'd heard them yesterday. "He's too good for me, Daddy, too all-American. He's bought into the system-the faith thing, the work thing, the save-money-for-a-house thing. He thinks life is work and marriage and kids and retirement. But why? What's it all for?"

Like all the Baxter children, Ashley was ent.i.tled to reduced tuition at Indiana University because of John's position. But she had no interest in even applying.

"She went to Bloomington Community, didn't she?" Mark knitted his brows curiously, and again John was impressed at his memory.

"Yes, got her a.s.sociate's degree in graphic design, and we actually thought she might grow up." A troubled sigh escaped from deep within, and John shook his head. "We still felt that way when she left for Paris."

"Paris. That's where she got pregnant?"

"Yes." Those two years were the most difficult John and Elizabeth 275 had ever faced as parents. Ashley had rarely called, and each time she did, it was as if a piece of her had disappeared forever. Later John and Elizabeth learned that Ashley had met a well-known French artist who ran a studio in downtown Paris. Their romance had been little more than a whirlwind. Beyond that, details were sketchy, though everyone a.s.sumed the artist was the father of Ashley's child. "Whatever happened there, it scarred her. She came home jaded and cynical, pregnant and more determined than ever to stand against everything we'd taught her to believe. The only reason she landed here is because she had nowhere else to go."

"That's when she had her accident." Mark didn't have to ask. Everyone at church knew about Ashley Baxter's accident. People had prayed around the clock that her unborn child might survive the impact, and miraculously he had.

"Sometimes I think the lawsuit was just another one of a long list of things that hurt her. Of course, she'd never agree."

"If I remember right, it was a lot of money for a young girl." John nodded slowly. "Especially a young girl whose life was completely out of whack."

According to Ashley, the lawsuit had been the best thing that ever happened to her. She'd been six months pregnant when she was rear-ended by a national freight-delivery truck. The impact had totaled Ashley's car and put her in intensive care with a concussion and broken ribs. Contractions had started immediately, and doctors had feared the baby might have been brain-damaged in the accident.

The story received considerable local attention because the freight company had a history of similar accidents-many in which a faulty brake system was to blame.

Given the fact that the company had disclosed that information before the collision, any lawyer with a day-old law degree would know there was money in the case.

Four months later, when a healthy Cole was five weeks old, 276 Ashley's attorney settled out of court with the freight company for two hundred thousand dollars.

Overnight, Ashley had become the owner of a three-bedroom house in an upscale neighborhood close to the university and had begun a life of what John liked to call drifting-taking a few art cla.s.ses at the university, hanging out with her friends, doing some painting. "Cole's the one I feel sorry for. He doesn't have a daddy, and his mother really hasn't grown up yet."

Mark stroked his chin again. "Sounds like she hasn't changed much since coming back from Paris."

"No.,, "I guess I didn't realize...

"Poor Cole." John crossed his arms and met his friend's eyes. "I try to take the place of a father for him. You know, get down on the floor and play with the little guy. But Ashley's always dropping him off so she can find a quiet place to paint or hang out with her friends at the coffeehouse. It's almost like she's still in high school." He searched for the words. "Still trying to convince the world that no one can tell Ashley Baxter how to live."

The breeze was picking up, and storm clouds gathered in the north. The temperatures had dropped considerably just in the time they had been outside, and snow flurries were actually forecast for the late evening. John stood and stretched, gently squeezing Mark's shoulder. "All that to say-pray for her, would you? As Cole gets older, he'll soon realize that we're his real parents and his mother's nothing more than a mixed-up kid."

Mark rose to his feet as well and patted John on the back. "I'll pray. And anytime you need to talk, I'm available."

John felt grounded again. He remembered his favorite Bible story, the one about Peter getting out of the boat and walking on water. The big fisherman was walking along quite nicely until he looked at the waves and began to sink.

As much as possible, John tried to live his life without looking at the waves.

But when he did, when the lives of his grown children caused his faith to waver even a little, G.o.d always sent 277 someone to ill.u.s.trate the words of Christ: "You of little faith ... why did you doubt?"

John felt certain that in this, his most trying season yet, the Lord had sent Pastor Mark to fill that role. It was a certainty that kept his eyes where they belonged-off the waves and straight ahead to the outstretched arms of Jesus.

Inside the house Ashley heard the men stop talking and move toward the front door. She wiped the angry tears from her eyes and hurried into the empty dining room so they wouldn't know she had been listening.

So that was how her parents saw her-as an irresponsible single parent who cared little or nothing for her son?

Ashley's shoulders tensed, and she grabbed a dishrag and wiped the crumbs from the dinner table. Fine. If that's the way her parents wanted to be, she could make a life without them. She didn't have to bring Cole to their house. She had a dozen friends who would gladly watch him. Why burden her parents? Especially if they felt like she was pa.s.sing off her duty on them.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kari and Tim, side by side at the kitchen counter stretching plastic wrap over a bowl of mashed potatoes. They were talking quietly together about something Ashley couldn't make out. The sight was practically nauseating. Was Kari so willing to pick up where she left off with Tim, even after his blatant affair? That he could even show his face at the Baxter house was nothing less than astonishing.

She remembered her father's blessing over the meal and how in the quiet s.p.a.ce afterward Tim had spoken to the entire family. "Obviously, you all know about the troubles Kari and I are having." Tim had the attention of everyone at the table, his voice somber, humbled. "I've made some very bad choices, and I'm sorry. Not just about hurting Kari-" his eyes glistened, and Ashley wanted to spit at him-"but about hurting all of you 278.

too." He reached for Kari's hand. "We're trying hard to work through our issues, and in the meantime your support means everything to me." He looked at Kari and then at the others. "To both of us."

He cleared his throat. "I won't ask for your forgiveness, though. I want to earn it."

Ashley rolled her eyes as the memory fizzled. The entire speech was Tim's pathetic attempt at making things easier for himself, so that he could show his face around Kari's family without feeling guilty.

She glanced at her sister, working there beside her husband. There was a glow of faith in her eyes-not just faith in G.o.d, but in Tim as well. It was a faith Ashley could not fathom. If Tim had cheated on Kari once, certainly he'd do it again. And even if he didn't, Kari would have to live her entire life with the knowledge of Tim's betrayal.

Kari was crazy, standing by Tim when a real man was clearly still in love with her. Ashley considered Ryan Taylor for a minute and knew that if it weren't for Kari she would have asked him out herself. Yes, he was like her parents in some ways. But there was something daring and different about Ryan, something that made him more appealing than Landon Blake had ever been.

She ran the dishrag over the table once more. If marriage required the type of devotion Kari had for Tim, Ashley was glad, she was single.

In the next room, the patio door slid open and Luke came in, breathless, an old football in his hand. Brooke's husband, Peter, was close behind, and both men pa.s.sed her without saying a word. Hadn't there been a hundred times when Ashley and Luke played catch with that same ball after dinners like this one? You were my best friend, Luke. What happened to us?

The question was one that filtered through her mind constantly when she was at her parents' home, but Ashley never voiced it. I should have stayed in Paris for all anyone cares about me.

She tuned in to the sounds around her: the gentle clanking of 279 dishes and the whoosh of water running in the dishwasher; a football game on the television in the next room and the mingled sounds of conversation and laughter. Everything about the moment felt like something from a Hallmark commercial.

Forget the fact that Kari was nearly four months pregnant by a husband who until a few weeks ago had been living with another woman. Right now there wasn't a person in their family who wasn't feeling sorry for Kari.

Poor Kari this, poor Kari that.

Ashley snorted and moved the dishrag to the opposite side of the table.

Then there was Brooke. Never mind that she and Peter had gone as far from their parents' faith and values as Ashley had. Brooke and Peter were always welcome around the Baxter home, always talked about in a favorable light. Mom and Dad never nagged them or complained about them. The reason was obvious, and it irked Ashley endlessly. Brooke and Peter were doctors, just like Dad. They might not go to church, but at least they'd done well for themselves, followed after Dad into a respectable profession.

But not Ashley-no, sir. According to her father, she hadn't had the sense to grow up yet.

She looked across the room at Brooke and Peter. Like everyone else, they seemed happy this Thanksgiving Day. Why wouldn't they be? In the card game of life they'd been dealt nothing but aces, hand after hand after hand.

People constantly praised Erin. No one seemed to notice that she was practically phobic about the prospect of her husband's getting a job out of state. Erin was a kindergarten teacher, a sweet girl, a Christian. What reason did she have for feeling lost or left out that afternoon?

And Luke? He'd gone from being the carefree ray of sunlight in a childhood marked with absolute certainty to ... to a selfserving ignorant conservative who did little but judge those around him. Especially Ashley.

280 Ashley gathered a handful of crumbs, marched into the kitchen, and shook them into the sink, wedging her way between Kari and Tim with a curt "Excuse me."

She wasn't halfway back to the dining room when she heard Tim whisper to Kari, "What's eating her?"

Ashley blocked out Kari's response. What did it matter? They were the ones with the problems, weren't they? Tears flooded her eyes as she grabbed a sweater.

Rather than risk questions from her parents about what was wrong, she headed out onto the empty back porch.

Alone outside, she watched a pair of birds chasing each other in the darkening sky, diving one way then the other, taking turns in the lead. Then she looked back toward the house. Through the windows to the family room she could see the others talking and laughing.

Your lives are a mess, and you don't even know it. She exhaled sharply. They looked happier than any television family ever had. And maybe they were.

All except Ashley.

281.

Kari WAS BOUND TO RUN INTO Ryan Taylor again, and on Christmas Eve it happened.

After six weeks of counseling and working to put the pieces of her marriage back together, Kari was hopeful that complete healing was just around the corner. She and Tim were making progress with each session. They were more honest with each other, but also more tender, more careful not to wound.

Early in their counseling Kari had come clean about her emotional affair with Ryan. The admission had been hard for both of them. But then they had talked the whole thing out with the counselor. To their relief, the knowledge that both had strayed became a source of mutual understanding as well as pain.

Since then Kari had been particularly pleased with her progress in one area of her healing-her thoughts of Ryan were less frequent now.

But all that was threatened on the December Sunday morning When he appeared in her Sunday school cla.s.sroom.

The church service had been over for ten minutes, and she 282 was alone, putting away supplies, when she heard his voice behind her.

"Hi." Her heart lurched at the sight of him standing in the doorway. "Hi," she answered. She dusted her hands on the back of her skirt.

He seemed careful not to let his eyes fall to her abdomen, which was firm and rounded, leaving no doubt about her condition. She felt her face grow hot. He must know by now; that's why he isn't surprised. She silently chided herself.

Why hadn't she told him about the baby? It would have been better coming from her.

He held an envelope in his hands, and he looked nervous, as if they were meeting for the first time again. "I ... I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas." He held out the card. "This is for you." No, Ryan ... don't.

She made her way across the schoolroom and took the envelope, keeping her distance, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm ... Tim and I are back together." Her hand came around her abdomen self-consciously. "We're having a baby."

Ryan slipped his hands into his pockets, and Kari struggled to read his eyes.

"Pastor Mark told me."

Suddenly Kari was overcome with the nearness of him, trapped again in the memories of their night at the lake and the truths she'd learned there. Tears flooded her eyes. "Ryan, I ... I can't be your friend." She was too choked up to speak, and she shook her head, a series of sobs jammed in her throat.

He folded his arms tightly in front of him and breathed in hard through his nose. "I know."

Her knees trembled beneath her skirt, and she desperately wanted him to leave. A meeting like this could only set back everything she was trying to do with Tim and the counselor. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she looked down at her feet.

"Being with you that day . . ." She struggled to swallow. "It was wrong, Ryan. I never should have allowed myself to" "Kari." His tone stopped her and she met his gaze once more.

283 "I didn't come here to ask you to be my friend or to make you feel bad." He gave her a sad smile. "I just wanted to give you a Christmas card and tell you something."

She could smell his cologne, and she tried not to think about how good it was to see him again. Instead, she waited for him to continue.

Ryan leaned against the Door frame. "Every day for the past six weeks I've prayed for you, Kari."

"Prayed?" Ryan nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes ... that you and Tim would work things out." He bit his lower lip and hesitated. "Obviously my prayers are being answered."

They made small talk for a few more minutes, and then Ryan glanced at his watch.

"I need to go." He refrained from hugging her but lifted a hand as he walked away. "Merry Christmas, Kari."

After he was gone, she opened his card and felt her breath catch in her throat.

Inside he'd written this simple message: "Thanks for teaching me what love really is."

Their conversation played again in her mind. His eyes had said he still had feelings for her. And the pounding of her heart had answered that her own feelings hadn't changed. In fact, only one thing had changed since their last meeting.

Their determination to let each other go.

Ashley often used Sunday mornings to run errands that hadn't been finished during the week. If she happened to be out when church ended, she would sometimes swing by and pick up Cole. That Christmas Eve was such an occasion.

She'd even considered attending services with her family, but in the end she'd been too busy. She'd go some other time. New Year's Eve, maybe, or Easter.

She parked her red Honda in the church lot, ran her fingers through her short-cropped hair, and was heading toward Cole's 284 cla.s.s when she saw Ryan Taylor standing in the doorway of one of the Sunday school rooms.

For a moment she considered approaching him and giving him an update on Kari, but before she could make a decision he turned and walked the other direction.

Who had he been talking to? Her curiosity got the better of her, and she walked slowly toward the place where Ryan had been. She leaned in, but the room was empty.

"Ashley?" She spun around and saw Kari stepping out of a closet. Her face was tearstained, and she held a handful of glue bottles and child-sized scissors.

"Hi." Ashley felt strangely guilty. "I was just getting Cole." "Cole's cla.s.s is at the other end of the building." Kari straightened and pulled her hair back from her face. She looked weary, as if she were carrying an invisible burden too heavy to bear.

"Ashley shrugged and decided to be honest. "I saw Ryan and thought I could catch him before he left."

Kari rolled her eyes and began stacking workbooks. She spoke with her back to Ashley. "What were you going to tell him?" "Look, Kari, I'm not trying to make life difficult for you."

Ashley sighed. "But if you ask me, Ryan's a much better-" "I'm not asking you!

Kari's voice was harsh, and it sent Ashley back a step. "Besides.. She smoothed her hands on her skirt and hesitated. "Besides, Ryan feels the same way I do.

That what we shared is better left in the past."

"Ryan said that?" Ashley had worried about her sister's judgment before. But if Kari thought Ryan Taylor was no longer head over heels in love with her, she was definitely in need of help. "Ryan will love you until the day he dies. Why do you think he was here?"