Some Bright Someday (Maple Valley #2) - Melissa Tagg Page 0,115
the sound of his voice.
At first, she’d thought it might be his father. But Lucas’s look of surprise had quickly turned to relief. Not his father, in that case.
Which left the man she’d heard Lucas talk about many times since he’d first told her about Bridgewell.
Over an hour had passed since Colie went into surgery. Violet was sound asleep in the chairs next to her. At some point, Dustin had passed a sleeping Cade to Mara. He sat in the opposite corner at the moment, talking quietly with Carmen. Sam was in the chair Lucas had used earlier.
“I don’t know how to convince him, Sam.”
He shifted and straightened in his chair. Had he started to doze off? “Uh, might need a little more context.”
“I don’t know how to convince Lucas that none of it matters to me—his military record, his prison record, the secrets he’s kept, the wounds that still hurt him, his father. It doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t change how I feel about him.”
He didn’t say anything at first, just rubbed his cheeks and crossed one leg over the other. Then seemed to think twice, planted both feet on the ground, and turned so he faced her. “Can I say something you might not like?”
The TV droned in the corner, and the whir of the revolving door let in a blast of cold air. “I’m not a wilting flower, Sam.”
“Well, okay then. All those things you listed—they matter to Luke. They’re burdens he carries, and you can’t just talk him into putting them down and walking away.” He exhaled. “Can’t love him into it either.”
“I accept him exactly as he is, burdens and all.”
“But you have to let him be who he is, too. Think about it. He went to war after 9/11 because of the sense of personal responsibility he felt toward his country. It’s the same code of ethics that kept him from speaking up for himself during his court-martial because he believed he deserved to pay for his desertion. And all the secretive work he’s done since then . . .” He shook his head. “Lucas’s drive to serve and sacrifice and look out for the needs of others, whether it’s on some mission or here with you, that’s a part of who he is.”
Sam shifted again, appearing uncomfortable with his own words. “If he’s pulling back right now, then maybe the way to show you care is by giving him the space and time he needs to wrestle with whatever it is he’s wrestling with.”
“You’re right. I don’t like hearing that.” She slunk farther into her chair, suddenly aware that Sam had recognized in Lucas what she hadn’t. Last night in the garden and again just minutes ago, she’d seen a man sinking into the shame of his past.
But Sam had seen a man filled with integrity, with the desire to do the right thing in the present.
And asking Lucas to somehow find instant clarity because of her feelings, her acceptance of all he carried with him—well, it wasn’t all that different than her parents expecting her to set aside her emotions at their demand. She needed to walk through her emotions, not just around them.
Lucas needed to walk through all that pulled at him now. And maybe, much as it hurt her, he needed to do it without her.
“I don’t like it when you’re more discerning than me, Sam.”
He crossed his arms. There was the Sam she knew.
“But you know I have a point, and you’re grateful I spoke my mind as a friend of both you and Lucas and blah blah blah, right?”
She elbowed him.
“Jenessa.” Carmen stood in front of her. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
A fresh dread wound through her. Colie wasn’t even out of surgery yet. Surely the lecture she was about to receive for whatever she’d done wrong this time could wait. But Carmen was already moving off toward a second waiting area walled off by glass, Dustin on her heels.
Jenessa rose. “Guess I’d better go. But Sam?” She waited until he looked up at her. “Thanks.”
He nodded.
She joined Carmen and Dustin in the smaller waiting area, Sam’s words resounding in her mind, realization and hurt mingling in the aftermath. And fear . . .
Fear that she was going to have to trust Lucas enough to let go. Trust God enough to meet her in the pain of it. Do some wrestling of her own.