Page 93 of I'll Be There
It wasn’t fair to ask Conner to sacrifice who he was for her—because...
Because she’d chosen fear.
She closed her eyes.I’m sorry.
Hanging up her apron, she stood in the shop for a long moment.
At least she’d be able to finish her orders.
Another breath.
She closed the door to the workshop, stood in the mottled dawn watching a sparrow land in the feeder.
Do you love Me enough?
The voice seemed to sweep through her, more feeling, more heartbeat than words.
Do you loveMeenough to love him?
She stilled, her hand on the railing, her chest thick.
When your heart’s desire is the will of the Lord above everything else, then life loses its threat, because His love will carry us through every situation.
She sank down on the stairway. Pressed her hands to her face, and forgot to breathe.
Oh, God, what have I done?
She curled her hands over her head, her body shaking as sobs tore free. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move with the immensity of—
“Liza? Oh,Liza. Baby, it’s going to be okay. Please, stop...stop crying.”
She lifted her head, fingers so tight in her chest she wanted to wail, a horror cresting over her as she stared...at Conner.
He appeared stricken, his eyes so red that she thought he might have spent the night crying, too. He’d showered—unlike her—smelled good, wearing a blue dress shirt, a pair of jeans.Hadn’t shaved, though, and she just barely stopped herself from reaching out, touching the rasp of his whiskers.
Not hers.
“What are you doing here?” She might have whispered it, but it came out as a cry in her heart. “You’re not supposed to—I thought—”
He swallowed, and she hated that she’d asked like that. He knelt in front of her. “I...”
“Read it, bro.”
She followed the voice, and didn’t know what to make of Justin standing there. He wore a clean T-shirt, something she recognized as Conner’s. And jeans, flip-flops. She must have been blind not to see the resemblance. The blue eyes, the same golden-red whiskers, the half-smile that must be a Young family trait.
Conner seemed to struggle to get up. But he dug into his pocket. Pulled out a piece of paper. “Just listen.” He offered that same wisp of a smile. “You do that so well.”
She closed her eyes.Please, don’t do this...
“Liza, when I first met you, I was a man destroyed by my own broken promises. I didn’t believe in myself, in happy endings, or even, deep down, in a good God who still let bad things happen.”
Crisis of faith.
“And then you brought me donuts, Donut Girl.”
She opened her eyes. He stood there, the golden sunlight on his hair, his eyes glistening.
She pressed a hand over her mouth and listened.
