Apple Orchard Bride. Jessica Keller

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СКАЧАТЬ fine.” She looked away.

      Toby begged a plastic cup off the ladies at the nurses’ station, filled it at the water fountain and then located a vending machine at the end of the hall. Score. It had chocolate-covered peanuts, Jenna’s favorite. After getting a pack, he reclaimed his seat and eased the cup into her hands.

      She took a long drag of water and then cradled the cup on her lap. “That helped. Thank you.” At some point during their dash to the hospital, some of her curls had worked their way out of her ponytail so that they hung around her face. It made her look vulnerable. Protectiveness flooded his heart. Unsure of how she’d respond, he fought the desire to offer her a hug like the old days.

      “Here.” He passed the chocolate-covered peanuts her way.

      Jenna looked up from the cup of water and accepted the bag of treats. “Oh. These are my favorite.”

      “I know,” he said warmly.

      “You remembered.” Her voice sounded breathless.

      “I...” He reached over and tucked her loose curls behind her ear. “I remember almost everything about you.”

      Her eyebrows pinched together, and she rubbed the heel of her palm against her collarbone.

      Toby angled his body toward her. Now was probably the worst time to ask, but he had to know, had to understand why she wasn’t happy to see him. Why she’d wanted him off their property. He tried to find a diplomatic way to start. “What are you thinking right now?”

      “Sorry.” She dropped her hand from her chest. “Sometimes it feels like I’m having a heart attack.”

      Concern for her dad. Anger at him for taking a job at the orchard. He’d expected one of those answers. Not...heart attack. Wait. Was Jenna ill, too? His gut tightened. “Should I get you a doctor?”

      “Please don’t. I’m fine.”

      “Is that a real fine, or like when your dad said he was fine?”

      “I don’t need a doctor.”

      “Jenn-nna.” He dragged out her name, the way he used to when he was bugging her to tell him something when they were kids.

      “I...” She sighed loudly. “You might as well know if you’re going to be sticking around...”

      “I’m not going anywhere.”

      “I have anxiety. It’s not terrible. And not all the time.” She continued, speaking rapidly, almost as if her words might vanish if she didn’t get them out fast enough. “But I have attacks—episodes.” She shrugged. “Sometimes they’re really bad. I’m okay though. Right now. I’m fine.”

      “You said that.” Toby let her words sink in. Jenna hadn’t suffered from panic attacks in the past, that he knew of, anyway. Were these new? What caused them? He’d have to do some more research about anxiety before probing further. One thing he understood from having lived with his brother was that where health conditions were concerned, people could unknowingly hurt with poorly phrased questions or assumptions, even when they had good intentions. He wouldn’t do that to Jenna.

      Jenna set the bag of peanuts in her lap so she could knit her fingers together. “I know it’s irrational. I know... It’s just, at the time, it’s very real.” Her gaze latched on to his. “Do you think that’s silly?”

      “Not at all.”

      “Seriously?”

      “Listen, Jenna, we all have things we struggle with.” He took a deep breath. “You clearly already know, but I spiraled into depression after the reality set in that I’d never play professional ball. I had no clue who Toby Holcomb was without that trajectory for my life. Unlike you, I wasn’t brave though.”

      “I’m not brave.” She sounded hoarse. “Feeling like the world is collapsing when nothing is actually wrong isn’t brave.”

      “You just told someone. That’s brave.” Toby rested his elbows on his knees and pressed his hands together. “I was a coward. I didn’t tell anyone when I was low.” Even himself. He should have known, locked up in his apartment for days at a time. Staying in bed. Not showering. Depression. The mind sure had a strange way of protecting itself...lying. Telling him he was fine. Normal. That how he was acting was how a failure of a man should act. He’d lost his dream of being a professional athlete and then tanked the sporting goods business he’d started after that.

      Toby Holcomb is a failure.

      Toby shook his thoughts away and pressed on. “Instead, like a fool, I self-medicated.” He scrubbed his hand over his jaw. Just say it. She already knew anyway. “Alcohol. Lots of it, I’m afraid. I’m ashamed to say that it took me almost five years to snap out of it.”

      Silence. Say something. Tell me my past doesn’t make me a bad person now.

      “What made you snap out of it?” Jenna quietly asked.

      God. That was the simple—and complicated—answer. His mother’s constant prayers.

      “I could really have hurt someone or myself, making poor choices like driving drunk. I thank God for both of those police officers who arrested me. If I hadn’t been caught...” He shook his head. “It’s more than that though. I was so busy focusing on what I lost—what I felt like was unfairly taken from me—” he tapped the knee that sometimes still gave him trouble, the one that had cost him his career “—that I lost sight of what God put me on this earth to accomplish.”

      “Football?”

      He snorted. “That was something I was good at a long time ago. Something I never used to glorify God. No.” He straightened in his seat. He’d never verbalized these thoughts to anyone—not even his parents—but it felt right sharing with Jenna. “I was put on earth for the same reason you were. I’m supposed to love people, Jenna—we’re supposed to share God’s love with people. No matter what situation I find myself in, I’m supposed to deal with it in a way that points people toward God. That’s my purpose.”

      She pressed her hand into her forehead. “You make it sound like the easiest thing in the world. Dealing with situations that way—as if we’re on display for the sake of God.”

      “Easy? Hardly. But, as Christians, isn’t that exactly what our life is supposed to do? At least...I think it is.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “The old Toby wouldn’t have said all this stuff.”

      He sat up in his chair. Tapped his fingers on the armrest. “The old Toby wasn’t a Christian.”

      “And now?” she whispered.

      “I am. Thanks to my mother.”

      A soft smile lightened Jenna’s face. “She never gave up on you.”

      “I’d long given up on me, but she hadn’t. I’m thankful for that. For everyone who pointed me toward God in some way. You included.”

      Jenna hugged her stomach, her shoulders hunching forward. “I’m not СКАЧАТЬ