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“No, that isn’t true. I was unhappy at first, and disillusioned, but I’ve gotten over it, and I don’t want to renew our relationship.”
“But you will think about it?” Ray insisted.
Connie agreed, adding, “But I don’t expect to change. I’m happy with things the way they are now.”
Ray stomped toward the open door and out into the night. He lived in one of the two-room cabins, and Connie supposed he was going there, but she heard his Jeep’s motor start, and he drove by at a reckless speed, apparently heading for town. Had she been wrong to turn him down? Did he deserve a second chance?
She was startled out of her reverie by Della, who was coming down the hall swathed in a terry cloth robe, with a towel thrown over her shoulder.
“I’m going for a swim. The pool will be open for another hour. Why don’t you come with me?”
Connie jumped up from the couch. “Just what I need! Give me a few minutes to change, and I’ll join you.” Della was doing push-ups when Connie came back into the foyer. “Don’t you ever run out of energy?” Connie said, laughing. “At this time of day, I hardly have enough steam to take a few laps across the pool.”
Della bounded to her feet. “That’s because you’re not old enough. It takes years to build up enough stamina to get over the hump.”
“Do you expect to live forever?” Connie joked.
“Nope, but I want to feel good as long as I’m here. I aim to leave earth with a shout and head upward like Elijah did. I don’t intend to cripple into heaven.”
Della hooked her arm into Connie’s as they left the dorm. “Excuse me for eavesdropping, but I was coming down the hall and heard your conversation with Ray. I waited until you’d finished, not wanting to interrupt.”
“Did I do the right thing, Della? Should I marry him?”
“That’s a question I can’t answer for you, honey.” Everybody was “honey” to Della, who humorously admitted that she called everyone that because her memory was so faulty she couldn’t remember names.
“I know I’m the only one who can make that decision. When I agreed to marry Ray, I thought that was the right decision. And when I broke our engagement, I felt that was right, too. I don’t want to make another mistake.”
“I’m not sure either of those decisions were mistakes. How would you have known the depth of your commitment to the Marriage First ideal unless you were tested? But you may be facing your toughest choice now—whether or not to take Ray back.”
“I thought marriage to Ray would be perfect. We were both dedicated to physical fitness, and I believed we could become partners here at NLC, as well as in marriage.”
“Honey, no marriage is perfect. It takes work from both parties to even have a good marriage, and there isn’t any perfection this side of heaven. But, besides your profession, what else did you and Ray have in common?”
“Not much,” Connie admitted ruefully, “and that should have been a warning for me. Since childhood my parents have quoted the Scripture to me, ‘Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common?’ They weren’t pleased with my choice of Ray, but I thought I knew more than my parents.”
“I’ve noticed Ray’s scornful expression in morning worship, and I question that he believes a word of Eric’s messages. You need to consider the depth of his spiritual life in making a decision.”
“The way I feel now, remembering how angry and forceful he became, I’ll never marry him. I hoped we could remain friends as long as he works here, but I’m starting to doubt that. I’m afraid of Ray, and that keeps me uneasy.”
“I pray you’ll find the right mate, honey. I’ve buried two husbands, and I loved both of them. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be married to someone you couldn’t respect, and I hope you never find out. Keep yourself pure until you find the man who shares your ideals.”
“I intend to, but I sometimes wonder if there is a man like that.”
“There are lots of them, honey. Don’t let Ray pressure you—wait until you’re sure.”
The pool wasn’t crowded, so Connie pulled off her robe and eased into the tepid water. She paused to admire the skill of Bobby Richie, a young athlete who was a regular in NLC’s weight room during football season. This summer, he’d signed up for NLC’s body building program in preparation for a cross-country bicycle trek. He sprang from the board, executed a graceful somersault and dived into the water.
After swimming the length of the pool six times, Connie felt refreshed and glad she’d come, for the tension she’d experienced during the meeting—and while she’d talked with Ray—had eased. She’d once looked forward to their weekly board meetings, but she didn’t any longer. She was always edgy, wondering what Ray would do next. Why was Ray biased against Joseph?
Connie waved to Della, who rested on the side of the pool, waiting to plunge into the water again. On the way back to her apartment, Connie turned aside to the chapel and sat in the back pew. Connie’s father, a machinery salesman, had located the abandoned pioneer log church in the western part of the state, and her parents had helped her dismantle the building, log by log, and arrange to have it hauled to the Center, where Connie had hired a builder to reassemble the chapel.
Each morning when Eric conducted the half hour service, he stood behind a hand-carved lectern that she’d found in an antique shop and had painstakingly restored to its original splendor. A small electronic organ was used for congregational singing, but the remainder of the time, quiet, taped music lent an atmosphere of peace and hope to the small room. A few minutes of meditation in the chapel always lifted Connie’s spirits as she looked at a large painting behind the pulpit depicting Christ’s healing of the crippled man at the pool of Bethesda.
In the early days, when she’d had so much trouble getting the Center started, and when financial straits made her wonder if the work was worthwhile, Connie had often come to the chapel and focused her attention on Jesus and the man He’d healed, which reminded her of the first line of a poem she’d once read—when the author had suggested that Christ used the hands of others to do His work. When Jesus went back to Heaven after His years on earth, He’d commissioned His followers to continue His mission. Connie considered herself in partnership with Jesus to bring hope to the disabled as He had done.
Joseph Caldwell came to mind. She welcomed the challenge to work with him until he could walk with the assurance and the erect bearing he’d possessed when she’d seen him on television. Thinking of him made her wonder about Ray’s antipathy toward Joseph. She supposed she was foolish, but she suspected that Ray didn’t want her in Joseph’s company, as if he were jealous of him. She’d shown no more interest in Joseph than she had any other potential patient of NLC. Or had she? Had she inadvertently revealed her uncommon interest in Joseph and his affairs? She must exercise more self-control where he was concerned.
Or did Ray know something about Joseph that she should know? If she’d learned anything from her disappointing relationship with Ray, it was to steer clear of anyone who didn’t share her Christian beliefs. And she was pretty sure that Joseph didn’t. She’d been burned once—that should’ve taught her to stay away from the fire. Her face flushed when she thought of working with Joseph. She’d almost refused to be his personal trainer, for his was the only assignment she’d ever taken in which she thought of her client more as a man rather than a patient. If she felt that way about him now, what would happen when she spent time with him every day for three months? Just thinking about their hours of togetherness left her breathless.
But she hadn’t come here to think about Joseph. Ray was her main concern now. Did she love him? At one time, she’d had no doubt. Did her love die, or had she ever truly loved him? Connie had no desire to marry Ray now. She couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life with a man who used force to achieve his objectives. But should he continue in the employ of NLC? Ray was an expert in his field, and he would be hard to replace.
When she left the chapel, Connie hadn’t gotten the answers she’d come to find.
Connie awoke to bright sunshine and the sound of a white-winged dove cooing outside her window. She threw back the covers and hit the floor with a song bursting from her lips. She couldn’t match the dove’s refrain, but she had a melody of her own.
Kim’s bed was neatly made, and the apartment was empty. Kim had already gone for her early-morning swim.
Changing into sweats, and feeling a tremendous joy in the new day, Connie joined Peggy on the two-mile round-trip run they took every morning. Joseph would be coming to the Center today, and she fleetingly wondered if that was the reason for her joyful attitude. Of course it was, for she always looked forward to helping a new patient—her excitement didn’t have anything to do with the captivating masculinity that, in spite of his disability, Joseph radiated.
Connie waited in her office, and when Joseph didn’t telephone, she wondered if he’d decided not to come, but she soon heard his halting tread in the corridor. Kim greeted him warmly, and said, “Connie is in her office. Go on in.”
Joseph paused with his hand on the doorknob, feeling giddy at the thought of seeing Connie again. She’d been uppermost in his thoughts for two days, and he blushed when he remembered that her presence had even infiltrated his dreams. Banishing such thoughts from his mind, he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
Joseph was dressed in jeans and a red-plaid flannel shirt that lent color to his face, which had grown pale during his hospital confinement. During previous television interviews, Joseph had always appeared as a tanned and hardy outdoorsman, and his casual appearance today pleased Connie.
After they were seated, he said, with some apprehension and a hint of belligerence, “Well, was I accepted or not?”
“Yes. We’re willing to give it a try if you are.”
“The sooner the better,” he muttered. “My leg has been giving me fits this morning. I brought my luggage.”
With a gleam in her eyes, she said, “You were unfortunate enough to draw me for your personal trainer. We rotate assignments based on workload, and since we discharged one of my patients last week, I was next in line for an assignment. After a week, if we aren’t compatible, you can have another trainer.”
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
Considering her sensitivity to Joseph’s physical appeal, Connie knew very well why it might be necessary to appoint a different trainer for him, but she said evenly, “It doesn’t happen often, but we’ve had a few cases of personality conflicts, and when that happens, the patient is given the option to have another trainer.”
“I’m sure we’ll get along all right,” Joseph said with a grin. “I’m peaceable until the pain gets too bad.”
Connie picked up a folder from her desk. “Let’s sit at the conference table,” she said, indicating an oval table near the window. Joseph pulled out a chair, seated Connie, then took the chair beside her. She spread out several sheets of paper.
“I’ve planned a three-month program for you.”
“You still think it will take that long?”
“Probably. We’ll start slowly and gradually work up to your potential. I want you to walk out of here at the end of three months as physically fit as you were when I saw you ride a bucking bronco at the state fair two years ago.”
“You saw that, did you?” His gray eyes flashed with pleasure.
“On television—but it impressed me.”
“Bronc riding is a hobby for me, and most of my riding has been local. I thought my rodeo days were over, but I’m beginning to hope again. Dr. Melrose said that NLC would have that effect on me.”
“We’ll make every effort. Today, we’ll settle you into a dorm room and do a few exercises.” She handed him several sheets of paper. “Tomorrow, we’ll start on this schedule, and then add a little more distance and additional exercises each day.”
He glanced through the papers. “Looks as if I’ll be busy enough.”
“Our residents work at their own speed. Some are up at the break of dawn, swimming, jogging or working out in the gym. The day’s schedule for everyone begins with worship services at half-past seven, and breakfast at eight. I always go jogging and shower before chapel, but until you’re stronger, you should wait until after breakfast to start your physical activity. Other meals are at noon and six o’clock in the evening. Three meals a day and chapel are mandatory. Otherwise, it’s up to the trainer and the client to decide on the individual’s program.”
“Do you actually believe that Christian worship makes a difference in the healing process?”
“Absolutely! It’s been proven that people with a strong, practicing faith heal faster than those who don’t believe in God.”
“I’ve read those reports, but the people who heal more rapidly are those suffering from depression, hypertension, heart disease and similar problems—not anyone with an injury like mine.”
“You’re right to a degree, but one medical school study found that deeply religious surgical patients are less likely to die than those who find no comfort in religion.”
“I don’t believe it, but at this point, I’m desperate enough to try anything. I’ll attend chapel.”
“Even if you don’t achieve complete healing, if your spirit is freed, you won’t mind the physical injury so much.”
Connie didn’t think she’d convinced him, but Joseph glanced through the papers. “So my goal for the first week is to walk a mile and back, starting at nine o’clock each morning.”
“Yes. The first days, you won’t be able to walk that far, but hopefully you’ll be able to by the end of the week. After the walk, you should rest in your room, and then spend an hour in the pool before lunch. In the afternoon, you can work in the gym at your own speed.”
“I notice you don’t have anything scheduled for evenings. Is that time reserved so the patient can take his trainer out for dinner?” Joseph hoped his expression didn’t reveal his consternation. What had prompted him to make such a suggestion?
Startled, Connie swung a quick look in his direction, and their gazes locked for a few tense seconds. Connie deliberately ignored his remark and stacked the papers in front of her in an effort to regain her composure.
“A masseur and a masseuse come from Denver each evening, and many clients find it beneficial to have a massage several times a week. There are support group sessions where patients talk over the problems they’re having. We show movies each night—nothing but comedies because laughter, too, is a part of the healing process. Or evening can be a good time to enjoy the peace and solitude of our surroundings. I’m proud of the grounds here at NLC—they’re especially lovely in the spring.”
“The lake near the gate is beautiful,” Joseph drawled, chastened by her silent reprimand. Well, he’d asked for it. His remark was out of line.
“There are benches around the lake,” Connie continued, and he couldn’t tell from her voice if she was annoyed with him, “and many of our clients find it restful to sit and watch the ducks. The lake is stocked with fish, too, if you’re interested in fishing.”
“I’ve done a lot of trout fishing, but I prefer to do that in a mountain current.” His face hardened and his gray eyes dulled, and Connie suspected Joseph wondered how he could ever stand again in a cold mountain stream when he couldn’t even walk unaided.
Connie joined Joseph in his blue pickup, and they drove to the dorm. “I arranged for you to sleep on the second floor because climbing stairs will be beneficial to you. However, there’s an elevator to use when necessary. You must not overtax your strength! Most clients push themselves too much at first and become discouraged when they don’t see immediate results. In fact, strenuous exercise at first does more harm than good.”
The gardener was working in the flower beds in front of the dorm building, and he took the luggage upstairs by the elevator. Connie wanted to see Joseph’s performance on the stairs, but seeing the way he winced on each step, she wished she hadn’t asked him to try.
Joseph sat down immediately when they reached his room, and although his breath came in uneven gasps, he complimented Connie on the accommodations. The rooms varied in size, but she’d arranged for Joseph to have a large one with a king-size bed and a view of the mountains. A Bible on the night table lay open to a highlighted verse in the book of Isaiah. “Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
Paintings by local artists decorated the walls, and a large cross-stitched sampler facing the bed was embroidered with a Bible verse from I Corinthians. “Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God. You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore, honor God with your body.”
Joseph glanced out the window. “This is a peaceful setting,” he said. “The large kitchen window in my house faces the mountains, too. It used to be a peaceful place.”
Did the death of his wife keep him from finding any pleasure in his home? It shouldn’t be surprising that Joseph would be depressed over the tragic events in his life during the past year. Had it been a happy marriage?
“What’s on the program for this afternoon?”
Connie had intended for him to take a short walk, but suddenly she was overwhelmed with the desire to know more about Joseph—not just as a patient of NLC, but as a person. Besides, she thought climbing the stairs had overtaxed his strength.
“Tomorrow morning will be soon enough to start your exercises, so I propose we go on a picnic to Paddy’s Point, NLC’s most scenic spot, this afternoon. It’s located along a graveled road that leads to our reservoir, and we can travel on the Center’s ATV. Or would you prefer to rest?”
“Not at all. I haven’t been on a picnic for years.”
“On second thought—with your injury, the ATV may be too rough for you.”
He grinned. “Not as long as you drive.”
“Take a half hour to rest, and I’ll check with Rose about our food.”
After Connie left, Joseph stretched out on the bed, but he didn’t sleep. Would his awareness of Connie as a desirable young woman interfere with his therapy sessions? He’d married Virginia for “better or worse,” and even when their marriage soured, his thoughts and actions had remained faithful. He didn’t take any pride in his restraint, for he hadn’t seen another woman who’d interested him until he met Connie.
Virginia had frequent mood swings. For months she might be sweet, vibrant, attentive, then suddenly she would become depressed and uncommunicative. Upon her parents’ insistence, she’d once been tested for being manic-depressive, but when the tests had proven negative, she’d discontinued her medication. His quiet wife had been a sharp contrast to Connie’s outgoing, vibrant personality, and he wondered if he’d have the strength to resist her when he was in her presence for three months. He had enough trouble without developing a romantic bent for Connie.
As long as suspicion of Virginia’s death shadowed him, he had to focus on his legal situation. When he regained his mobility, Joseph was determined to find out what had really happened in the days and weeks prior to his wife’s death. He remembered a Bible verse he’d learned as a youth. “The truth will set you free.” He’d never be free until he learned the truth about Virginia’s death.
Chapter Three
Wondering what had possessed her to make such a suggestion, Connie hurried toward the cafeteria. She’d never picnicked alone with another patient!
“Hi, Rose,” she called as she entered the kitchen. “Could you pack a lunch for me? Mr. Caldwell isn’t ready for exercise this afternoon, and I suggested taking him on a picnic at Paddy’s Point.”
Connie fidgeted while Rose rummaged in the cabinets and refrigerator. Was it too late to change her mind? Or did she have a mind where Joseph was concerned? Joseph was like no man she’d ever known, and her behavior was worse than a girl with her first teenage crush.
“Here you are,” Rose said, approaching with a small basket. “Cold grilled chicken breasts, tomatoes, apples, bread, yogurt and iced tea. Anything else?”
“No, that’s fine. I didn’t expect a feast on such an impromptu request.”
Connie hurried away before Rose could ask any questions. The ATV hadn’t been used for a couple of weeks, but the motor started on the first try, and Connie drove it out of the garage and stopped in front of the dorm. She fastened the basket on the rear of the vehicle.
Connie hurriedly went to the apartment to change into jeans, and Joseph was waiting by the vehicle when she returned.
“Are you sure you don’t want to drive?” she asked. “I’ve only operated this thing a few times.”
He shook his head. “We have an ATV at the ranch, and I can give you advice if you need it. I don’t want to risk hurting my leg by driving, but a four-wheeler isn’t much rougher than a truck. Drive slowly, and there won’t be any problem.”
Still with some hesitation, she held Joseph’s arm while he carefully and slowly lifted his left leg over the driver’s seat, perched over the rear wheels of the ATV, and stretched out his injured limb. Once he was settled, Connie sat on the padded seat behind the wheel. Joseph hardly knew what to do with his hands, but Connie said, “Put your arms around my waist. I’ll try to drive carefully, but you need to be able to steady yourself.”
Joseph did as she said, but not without misgiving. Had he suffered a momentary mental relapse to agree to this strenuous excursion? And what about the injury to his heart—a heart already bruised and vulnerable? But he gritted his teeth, determined to endure with composure any pain to his injured hip or any emotional stress incurred from physical nearness to Connie.
When she’d always advised her staff to avoid personal encounters with their patients, Connie was hard put to understand why she’d suggested this outing with Joseph. There wasn’t anything she could do now, but she vowed that this was just a one-time incident. Regardless of today’s outcome, she would know better in the future. With these thoughts, she salved her conscience as, mindful of Joseph’s injury, she put the vehicle slowly into motion. But her conscience didn’t have to deal, as Connie did, with Joseph’s soft breath on her neck, the firmness of his arms around her waist, nor the strength of his hands clasped in front of her.
Joseph needed NLC, but Connie didn’t need the frustrations his presence provoked, and she wondered how she could endure three months of daily interaction with him and retain a strict patient-therapist relationship. Did she have the strength to remain dispassionate to this man who’d captivated her thoughts since the first day she’d met him?
When they entered the forest behind the chapel, the trail curved steadily upward. Connie shifted into a lower gear and glanced over her shoulder.
