Everyday Blessings

He’d jerked away from her. She’d meant to comfort him, and he pulled away as if she were hurting him more. She was embarrassed, yes, but it was nothing compared to the hurt she felt on his behalf.

“That man was William Corey. The photographer.” Danielle stared at the card. “I didn’t even know Jonas knew him. Wait, maybe I did. My brain is a total fog.”

“Did he tell you about the gift?”

“Oh, you mean he wanted to contribute to Jonas’s medical fund, except there isn’t one.” Danielle rubbed her hands over her face, so weary. “I told him about the funds we’re accepting for charity in his name. Oh, and I mentioned the auction fund-raiser thing you and Ava are coordinating with our church.”

Should she tell her about the anniversary gift? Aubrey wasn’t sure at this point that Danielle looked strong enough to take one more blow.

“Mr. Corey was interested in writing a check to Jonas’s medical fund, but I told him I wasn’t able to think about that much right now.” Danielle shrugged. She seemed frayed at the edges, at wit’s end, as if her heart had stopped beating. “I’ve got just about all I can cope with.”

Aubrey put her arm around her stepsister. “Did you get some sleep?”

“I’ll be fine. I—” Danielle shoved the business card in Aubrey’s direction. “I told him you or Ava would be in touch about that donation. It was nice of him, don’t you think?”

“I do. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Aubrey took the card, wrapping her hand around her sister’s. She willed all the sympathy she had into a prayer.

It was hard to know what exactly to pray for. For Jonas to miraculously recover? For Danielle’s marriage and family to be whole and happy, as before? To turn back time so that Jonas would not have been shot? Some things not even God could change. The past was one of those things.

Please, Father, make this come out all right.

But she didn’t see how. All she could see was her sister’s tenuous act of holding things together, and the remembrance of William Corey’s sadness. She could still picture the steel-straight line of his spine and the inherent sorrow that made him seem so distant and impersonal. But his story clung to her like skin.

How sad is this? she thought, wanting to push it all away like an empty plate. If only she could get this ordeal out of all of their lives. She hated dealing with this constant sorrow and sadness. She liked to look at the positive side of life. She hated the heartbreak and woe that had permeated their family and stolen Jonas from his wife and children.

“Are you all right?” Danielle asked in concern; Danielle who always thought of others even when her world was unraveling at the seams.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just overwhelmed.” Aubrey shrugged. “You know me. I hate that things like this ever happen. I would want there to be no hurt and loss in the world. Just goodness and sunshine for everyone.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me. If only that were true.” Tears brimmed in her dark blue eyes. “What I’d give if we could make that true, but life is a mixed bag of blessings. Some days it’s more than I want to face, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have to.”

A faint bell dinged at the end of the hallway, echoing against the long empty corridor. The light above one of the elevators came on and William Corey moved toward it.

Sympathy tugged at her heart. William looked deeply alone. She watched him wait while a few passengers in the elevator disembarked—Dorrie was among them. She carried a drink carrier and a covered plate, tapping quickly in their direction. But it was the man, lost in shadows, who kept Aubrey’s attention as he entered the elevator and disappeared from her sight.

The impression he’d made on her heart remained.

William listened to the echo of his step in the hospital’s chapel and wondered why he was here. It was as if he had followed his feet. He couldn’t remember making the conscious decision. The chapel had been noted on the main-floor directory and he’d followed the arrows without thought. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what he could possibly do. There was no prayer on earth that could comfort him.

Candles flickered in the front of the nondenominational sanctuary, candles that had been lit in hope and prayer. The stillness of the simple place felt as if it still held the memory of decades of deepest prayers whispered in sorrow. Maybe his were still here, earthbound and unheard, from that dark, desperate night long ago.

I shouldn’t have come here.

He’d thought he was doing the right thing, but now he wasn’t so sure. The online article about Jonas’s shooting was sparse, and he’d come thinking there was some difference he could make. Sure, Aubrey had told him enough of Jonas’s current medical situation to prepare him, but hearing it was another reality entirely. Seeing the look of it on Jonas’s wife’s face was too bleak a reminder.

William knew that look too well, the appearance of exhaustion and desperation. Of what it took to put life on hold to stay at a loved one’s side. There wasn’t enough sleep, not enough hope, not enough love, no matter how hard you tried, to will that loved one well.

The day’s blazing sunshine spilled through two arched stained-glass windows, and the colorful spill of light might be a sign to some who sought comfort in this solemn place. But that comfort and hope had been elusive for him. William’s hand felt empty, as empty as his soul, and coming here had been a mistake. He’d been unable to make any sense of life, or reason behind it. It wasn’t what he wanted to believe. It was simply all he was left with.

The scent of flowers placed on the altar became cloying, a scent-related memory of when he’d knelt here, praying for mercy to save his wife.

It hadn’t happened.

He turned his back to the altar and the cross on the wall, feeling devoid of faith, like a pitcher empty of water, but the pad of approaching footsteps made him hesitate. It was as if the light slanting in thick, nebulous rays through the stained glass brightened when she stepped through the threshold and into the sanctuary.

Aubrey. She recognized him, and their gazes locked. With the way she was haloed by the jeweled light, a hopeful man might think this was a sign that heaven was listening after all.

Chapter Four

“William.” Aubrey blinked but couldn’t quite believe her eyes. The man seemed darker somehow even as he stood in the light. “What are you doing here?”

Okay, duh, obvious. Was there any question why she was twenty-seven and single and doomed to stay that way? Her conversation and social skills could be better. She took a quiet step forward, careful not to disturb the reverence of the sanctuary.

He didn’t answer or acknowledge her obvious question.

“I guess we had the same thing in mind. Prayer,” she added when he continued to look at her without saying a thing. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I can come back later—”

“No.” His baritone boomed like summer thunder. “Don’t go. I was just leaving.”

“Okay.” She remembered how he’d jerked back from her touch in the waiting room. Maybe he was on his way out; maybe he was trying to avoid her.

Way to go, Aubrey. This is where being her twin would come in handy. If she could clone her sister’s personality, she’d know exactly what to say to this man who looked slightly panicked and out of his comfort zone.

She moved aside to give him plenty of room to escape. “I always turn to prayer, too, when I feel lost.”

He held out his hands, palms up, in a helpless gesture. “I didn’t pray. Couldn’t.”

She noticed his gaze slide lower. She put her hand where he would be looking, at her throat, and felt the small gold cross their maternal grandmother had given her. Gran was a deeply religious woman, and that had always given Aubrey courage. “Danielle gave me your card. My sister and I are trying to handle all the donations that are coming in. Jonas is fortunate to have extensive insurance after all, so we’re designating a few charities to donate to in his name. If you’re still interested, then just let me know.”

A single nod, that was all. His face was stone hard, but now she knew the reason he ambled past her as if he didn’t have a heart. No, she thought, a man wouldn’t who’d buried his wife.

“I’ll get back to you about donations, then.” At least she thought that’s what his nod had meant. “This had to be pretty important to you for you to come here in person.”

He hesitated in the doorway. Turned. He didn’t look at her but above her head at the windows radiating light. “It was. I owe Jonas a great debt. Whatever else I may have lost, I still believe in the Golden Rule. In doing right by others.”

He left in silence, without a goodbye. Even the pad of his black-soled shoes hardly made a noise, as if he were more shadow than man. Aubrey knew it was just the artistic part of her, thinking of him that way. In the sanctuary filled with God’s light, she knelt and said a prayer for him first.

Whatever reason God had brought William into their lives, and into her path, she hoped she could do the right thing by him. But as to what that could be, she was clueless. She left that up to the angels as she bowed her head and began to work her way down her prayer list.

“I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

Aubrey looked up from shelving new inventory at her parents’ Christian bookstore to see her twin dashing down the main aisle toward her. “Ava, you’re twenty-three minutes late. Again.”

“I know it. My bad!” Breathless, she skidded to a stop beside the book cart, dressed in neon-pink from head to toe. “But on the good side, I remembered to bring lunch for you. I did a drive-through at Mr. Paco’s Tacos. Is Katherine in yet?”

“No, she’s staying with Danielle at the hospital this afternoon so Dorrie can get some sleep. Oh, and Spence got a call from Rebecca.”

“Is our wayward stepsister finally on her way home?”