North Country Family

“Thanks.” Rick nodded when she’d added the right amount. “I didn’t realize he was back.”

“Back? He doesn’t live in Churchill?” This time Cassie sat directly across from him.

“His real home is in Vancouver. But he visits Churchill a lot.” Rick savored the delicious brew. “Your coffee is fantastic. Much better than the slough water I had at the church.”

“Do you live there?”

“Almost.” He chuckled. “The church has a small manse. It’s cozy.” He refocused.

“Teddy’s an interesting character. What else do you know?” she said.

“Kyle told me Teddy came as a client for his dad’s tour business years ago and has kept coming ever since. I believe Teddy owns a hotel business that his son now runs.”

Cassie nodded, then tilted her head to one side. “So what’s the inspiration behind this choir of yours?”

Rick hesitated to broach the subject on his mind. “I’ve talked to Noah a couple of times.”

Cassie perked up. “And?”

“I think he wants to open up but doesn’t know where to start,” he said. “Is there anything you can share with me that would help me understand what he’s going through?”

“Like what?” Rick could see Cassie’s barriers go up again, and he knew he had to tread very lightly.

“Maybe if I knew some details about what happened, I could make him feel that he could confide in me.”

“I don’t discuss my past, Rick.” Her lips pinched firmly together. “I just want to forget.”

“I understand.” Rick could almost feel the pain emanating from Cassie, and he was caught off guard by how much he wanted to ease it. “Losing your husband must have been very difficult. I’m not trying to pry. But can’t you tell me something? For Noah’s sake?”

Cassie sat silent for several minutes, motionless, her gaze locked on something Rick couldn’t see. Finally she took a sip of her coffee. Cradling the mug between her palms she gave a huge sigh.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you think will help Noah.” Rick waited, silently praying until finally she spoke again in a cool, matter-of-fact voice.

“My husband’s name was Eric. I married him thirteen years ago, when I was eighteen. He was twenty-seven. He died two years ago. He drove on an icy street at high speed. Deliberately. He hit a tree and died.”

Rick fought to keep his reaction to Cassie’s horrific story as neutral as possible, for her sake. Now he understood her discomfort on the icy ride to Lives from the train.

“Do you mind telling me why Eric did it?” he asked gently.

“He was an accountant. He served on our church board and agreed to be board treasurer, to oversee a fund-raising campaign to build a new church.” Cassie looked at him, her brown eyes guarded. “Eric was supposed to invest the building fund in something the board had chosen.”

Cassie’s voice broke and she paused to regain her composure. When she did, she said, “But Eric had other plans for the money. Plans I never knew much about.” She frowned. “The congregation was excited about getting a facility that would give them room to expand their programs. Eric received a lot of phone calls from people wanting to know when there would be enough money to start building.”

Compassion filled Rick. The way she avoided looking at him told him he was causing her pain by asking her about the past. Yet he needed information in order to help.

“Was that when Noah’s stutter began?” he asked. “After his father died?”

Cassie shook her head, her eyes pleading with him not to make her say any more.

“I only want to help him, Cassie. Whatever you tell me is in strictest confidence, but I need to know,” he said. Without thinking, he slid his hand across the table, over hers.

For a few moments Rick was certain she would tell him to forget it, that she didn’t want to talk anymore. But she looked at him for a long time, and Rick held her gaze. Gradually her shoulders relaxed and her brown eyes lost their dark anger. She slowly pulled her hand away and exhaled.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

“Noah’s stutter started quite a while after his dad died, after everyone in the church turned on us when they discovered the money was gone,” she said tiredly. “I became their scapegoat and Noah, too. The kids at school tormented him, called him the son of a thief.” Tears formed on her thick golden lashes. “Noah was a total innocent. We both were. But when I tried to explain, no one would listen. To them we were as guilty as Eric. Noah’s friends dumped him, parroting the nasty ugliness of what their parents said. That’s when he began to stutter.”

“Cassie, I’m so sorry.” Rick hated the tears streaming down her lovely face. Holding her was folly, but how could he not offer her comfort?

He stood and moved to sit next to her, taking her in his arms slowly, gently, in case it wasn’t what she wanted. He felt the tension break in her as she wept against his shoulder.

“They were Christians, Rick. They were supposed to love us.”

“Yes, they were.” How he wished he could ease this load from her. It broke his heart that her husband had caused so much grief and then abandoned her to face the consequences, that God’s children had wreaked so much havoc on her son. “I’m sorry they didn’t love you as Christ taught, Cassie. People are more important than lost money.”

“Oh, they got their money.” Cassie pulled out of his arms, dashing away her tears. Her voice grew harsh. “I sold the house and gave the money to the church to cover the loss.”

She’d sold her home? Rick couldn’t imagine what that decision had cost her, a single mom responsible for housing her child.

“I didn’t do it because I felt guilty,” Cassie said, her tone short. “I did it because I wanted them to stop torturing my son. But they didn’t. They thought it wasn’t enough, that I should cover the two years of interest they’d lost.”

“But surely when you explained—”

“I stopped explaining,” Cassie said, her voice passionless. “They displayed nothing but hatred for us. Before he ended it all, Eric tried to make it right. He sank every bit of our savings into trying to rebuild their fund. But he couldn’t do it. So when he was gone, I found out there was no cushion for Noah and me, no life insurance, nothing but my part-time nursing salary to support us.”

“Your parents couldn’t help?”

“My mother died when I was nine. Ever since then my father has been...busy.” Cassie’s voice dropped. “He blamed me, too, for not knowing what Eric was doing. So I stopped trying to defend myself.”

Rick could see how much it cost Cassie to say this. He longed to pull her back into his arms, but for a moment, he questioned his motives. Did he want to offer her more comfort or did he simply love the feel of her in his arms? He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that question.

“The day Noah got beaten up by his former friends was the day I knew getting him more counseling wouldn’t help. We had to leave.” Her eyes were dark beneath her damp eyelashes. “But leaving hasn’t helped. I can’t get him to let go of his anger.”

“We’ll figure out a way,” Rick assured her. “Don’t worry, Cassie. Once the two of you are involved in our church groups—”

“I won’t be involved in them.” She looked at him with an iciness that dared him to argue. “I can’t be in a church, near people who call themselves Christians, without having it all come rushing back.”

“These are not the same people, Cassie.”

“But it’s the same God. Where was He when my son—my innocent son—was being bullied? Why didn’t He help us?” She glared at him, demanding answers.

“He did help you. He led you here,” Rick murmured. “To a new life and a chance to start over.”

“I will start over,” she said with a nod. “But I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice. I will not trust God again. It’s too hard when He fails to come through.”

“Cassie—”