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The Test of Love
Irene Brand


SPIRITUAL HEALINGWhen Joseph Caldwell started the New Life Center's program, he wanted only to regain mobility in his leg. He didn't realize the center's philosophy was to rehabilitate the body…and the soul. He also didn't know he'd have such a tough–and caring–trainer.From the moment he met Connie Harmon, Joseph had a feeling he faced much more than physical therapy. For lovely Connie believed that, more than anything, Joseph had to regain the faith he'd lost. And though he protested, he knew if anyone could help him, it was this kind and compassionate woman.But Joseph wasn't sure he could overcome his mental wounds, and accept the love Connie felt he deserved….









“I’m going to appoint a new trainer for you, Joseph.”


“If you don’t continue as my trainer, Connie, I’ll leave. I can’t blame you for not wanting to work with me, but I don’t want anyone else.”

“But you’re not ready to leave yet,” she protested. “I don’t want you to lose all you’ve gained.”

Joseph laid his hand on her shoulder. “When I sat on that bench this morning after my jog, exhausted, and you were holding my hand, I realized how bleak my life has been for the past year, and I compared it to the serenity and peace I have with you. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I can’t let you go out of my life completely, and that’s what will happen if I leave here.”

Connie swallowed a sob, and moved closer to him….




IRENE BRAND


This prolific and popular author of both contemporary and historical inspirational fiction is a native of West Virginia, where she has lived all her life. She began writing professionally in 1977, after she completed her master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself full-time to her writing.

In 1984, after she had enjoyed a long career of publishing articles and devotional materials, her first novel was published by Thomas Nelson. Since that time, Irene has published twenty-one contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles with publishers such as Zondervan, Fleming Revell and Barbour Books.

Her extensive travels with her husband, Rod, to forty-nine of the United States and thirty-two foreign countries, have inspired much of her writing. Through her writing, Irene believes she has been helpful to others and is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her truly inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters of strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187.




The Test of Love

Irene Brand





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Do you not know that 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.

—I Corinthians 6:19-20




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Letter to Reader




Chapter One


A snatch of song marked Connie Harmon’s progress as she jogged slowly along the driveway and into the New Life Center’s administration building. A tall, slender brunette, she bubbled with vigor and vitality. Most of her life, Connie’s gaiety had been spontaneous, but events of the past few months had dampened her spirits, and at times she’d had to force her cheerfulness. The chorus she sang today, “In my heart there rings a melody,” didn’t always reflect her true emotional state.

Before going down the hallway to her office, Connie paused in front of the foyer’s wide expanse of windows to gaze at a scene that never failed to soothe and inspire her. Brilliant snowbanks clung to the peaks of the Rocky Mountains several miles to the southwest, while on the lawn, a robin stiffened its legs and tugged purposefully on a worm in the row of yellow tulips, which were frosted by early-morning dew.

Continuing toward the reception room, Connie sang the refrain of “When It’s Springtime in the Rockies,” in her pleasing, soprano voice, attempting to keep her spirits high. She was scheduled to discuss monthly bills and accounts with her secretary, Kim Watson, and since her financial condition was usually discouraging, she wanted to get the task behind her.

Connie owned the New Life Center near Idaho Springs, in one of Colorado’s oldest historic districts. And though she operated on a hand-to-mouth budget, her financial condition was better than it had been when she’d opened the Center three years ago. Her college degree in physical therapy and psychology hadn’t equipped her to be an administrator—she’d had to learn that on her own, and it had been rough.

The phone rang as Connie walked in the door. She waved to Kim and moved toward the adjacent office, but the receptionist stopped Connie with an imperious shake of her head as she picked up the phone. Connie’s large blue eyes glimmered with amusement at Kim’s gesture, and her sensitive, well-formed mouth broke into a grin that spread over her finely chiseled features. Who was boss here anyway? But she and Kim had been best friends for years, and Connie was used to Kim ordering her around. So perched on the edge of the desk, she waited until Kim answered a query from a local boy about their gymnastic equipment.

Kim replaced the phone, her brown eyes flashing a message Connie couldn’t decipher until she scanned the note Kim scribbled on a scrap of paper. “A visitor is waiting in your office.”

Connie lifted her eyebrows, and Kim wrote, “Joseph Caldwell.”

“The Joseph Caldwell?” Connie mouthed silently.

Kim nodded, and Connie said quietly, “Why?”

The receptionist shook her head and wrote again. “He said that it was very important that he see you today, and he wouldn’t take, no, for an answer.”

What could Joseph Caldwell want so urgently from NLC? A well-known Colorado rancher, Caldwell often appeared on television as a spokesman for legislation to promote the rural interests of the state. Occasionally, he’d been a featured rider in rodeos at the state fair, and although she’d never seen him in person, whenever Connie saw him on television, she’d had the urge to learn more about him. Regardless of why he’d come today, Connie looked forward to meeting him.

When she entered her office, the man sitting in the visitor’s chair rose with effort and leaned on his cane. He was dressed in a tailored denim suit, a blue-plaid shirt and cowboy boots. A wide-brimmed white hat lay on a chair beside him.

Her visitor was a man of medium height, only a couple of inches taller than Connie, but he had broad shoulders and handled himself with dignity. His hair was light-brown, and steely gray eyes glistened above his high cheekbones. A wide, determined mouth and a straight nose indicated his strength of character.

“I’m Joseph Caldwell,” he said slowly, almost with a drawl.

Joseph Caldwell in the flesh was even more appealing than he appeared on TV, and with downcast eyes, Connie’s fingers fumbled with the papers on her desk, fearful that her visitor would detect her sudden interest. She’d heard it said that following a broken relationship, a person was apt to rebound quickly into another’s arms, and at the moment, Joseph’s arms seemed more than inviting.

Careful, she admonished herself as she again focused on her visitor’s remarks.

“Your facility was recommended to me by my Denver surgeon. My left leg and hip were crushed in an automobile wreck six months ago.” He fixed her with a keen, unwavering glance. “Perhaps you’ve heard about the accident?”

Connie thought for a moment. “Yes. I do remember the accident was reported on the evening television news.”

“My wife was killed in the accident, and there was quite a lot of publicity.”

What kind of publicity would cause his voice to tremble slightly when he mentioned it? she thought. Local accidents didn’t usually cause a ripple in the news media unless the wreck was sensational, so what was unusual about the accident he mentioned?

“I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”

“It’s a miracle that I wasn’t killed too, and considering the physical suffering of the past few months, there have been times when I wished I had died, but I’m still alive and disabled. The surgeons have done all they can and suggested that I enroll in a rehabilitation program.”

“What do you know about our work here at NLC?” Connie asked, wondering if Joseph was the type to readily accept the strict regimen required at the Center.

“Not a thing,” he said, and added with a broad smile, “I’d never heard of the place until yesterday. But what difference does it make? My surgeon said that you could recommend a physical program to strengthen my thigh and leg. What else do I need to know?”

“Quite a lot. You see, Mr. Caldwell, NLC’s focus differs from most physical fitness centers. Our goal is to heal the mind and spirit as well as the body.”

He laughed shortly. “There’s nothing wrong with my mind and spirit. I have an injured limb. That’s all I want from you.”

Connie swiveled in her chair toward the cabinet behind her. She took out several pamphlets and handed them to Joseph, and when he refused to take them, she laid the booklets on the desk in front of him.

“I suggest you read those, Mr. Caldwell. You need to know the basic purpose of NLC before we can continue. I’ll be in the office working with my secretary, and I’ll talk with you again in a half hour.”

Joseph’s gray eyes hardened, and he glared at her. He hadn’t picked up the brochures before she left the office and closed the door behind her. Kim turned questioning eyes in her direction, but Connie shrugged her shoulders and said, “Let’s check through the bills we need to pay this month.”

They’d been working about three minutes when her office door opened abruptly. A sardonic grin spreading across his face, Joseph ripped the pamphlets she’d given him and dropped the pieces into the wastepaper container.

“No, thanks, Miss Harmon. I won’t accept your services. I had enough Bible training when I was a child to do me a lifetime. I’ll come here for physical training, but nothing else.”

“You apparently didn’t read enough to find out our application procedure, Mr. Caldwell. We have a limited clientele, and our staff decides who enrolls here. The patient doesn’t have the last word.”

Favoring his left leg, and leaning heavily on the cane, Joseph turned toward the door. “Then I’m sorry I bothered you, Miss Harmon.”

Well, that takes care of rebounding into his arms! she thought.

Either from anger or fatigue, Joseph’s body trembled as he walked down the hallway, and his leg buckled when he reached the foyer. If there hadn’t been a couch handy, he’d have collapsed on the floor. Stifling a groan, he rubbed his thigh, which felt as if it was on fire. What was he going to do? Had he been too hasty in rejecting NLC’s services? Joseph considered himself a man of integrity and truth, but he hadn’t been completely honest with Connie Harmon. His life had been out of sync long before Virginia’s death, and his injury and the unsettling incidents following the accident had shattered his peace of mind. Over the past six months, he didn’t know which had been the most painful—his physical wounds or his mental anguish. Where had he gone wrong with Virginia? What had happened to the marriage that had started out so promising?

When the throbbing in his leg lessened to a dull ache, Joseph stood and started toward the door, but he sat down again. He remembered what Dr. Melrose had said the day before. “Joseph, I can’t do anything more for you, but it is possible for you to be healed. You’re fretting about the circumstances of Virginia’s death, and that keeps you from concentrating on your recovery. Since you were driving, no doubt you feel guilty, and you’ll have to move beyond that before you’re physically well. I know a place that can help you.”

He’d spent many hours thinking about Dr. Melrose’s recommendation, and he’d come to NLC this morning with a sense of anticipation. He was normally an even-tempered person, so why had he been so antagonistic toward Connie Harmon? Suddenly the answer was obvious. He’d experienced a physical attraction to her the minute she’d walked into the office, and he resented her because she’d sparked an emotional yearning he’d stifled for years. He had remained faithful to Virginia in spite of their problems, and after her death, he’d vowed to refrain from future involvement with women. Developing a romantic interest in Connie Harmon would be the worst thing that could happen to him now. Surely Dr. Melrose could recommend another facility that wasn’t operated by a young, attractive woman who had shattered his determination to avoid the opposite sex with one lovely smile.

Joseph struggled to his feet again and started toward the door. He stopped and looked down the hallway. Was NLC his last hope for healing—and for living a normal life? If he left, would he always be physically handicapped? Did a new life await him if he stayed? He stood at the crossroads. Which way should he go?

As they listened to his faltering footsteps, Kim and Connie exchanged glances. This wasn’t the first irate prospect they’d lost, but Connie knew that Joseph desperately needed their services. Unless he recovered his mobility, his ability to operate his ranch would be limited.

“Too bad!” Kim said, her brown eyes wretched. “He’s a man who needs some help.”

“But he’s apparently too proud to accept it. We can’t help those who won’t cooperate.” Drawing a deep breath, Connie said, “I’m not in the mood for bills, but we might as well ruin the whole morning. Do we have the money to pay our debts?”

“Cheer up,” Kim said, as she handed Connie a list of current expenditures and receipts. “We’ll be a few dollars in the black this month.”

Connie couldn’t keep her mind on their work, and she finally leaned back in the chair. “I’d heard that Mr. Caldwell was injured in an auto accident that also resulted in the death of his wife. Do you know anything else about it?”

“Actually, I heard more about it than I wanted to,” Kim said with a laugh. “When Virginia Caldwell was killed, Rose gave me a blow-by-blow description of everything that happened.”

Surprised, Connie asked, “Rose Nash? Our cook?”

Kim nodded.

“Why would she be interested?”

“She worked for Virginia Caldwell’s family, the Perrys, for several years, when Virginia and her brother, George, were children. She was hired as the cook, but I’ve gathered she did some baby-sitting, too. The Perrys were rich socialites and they were away from home quite a lot. She also knew Joseph after he and Virginia were married.”

“I try not to listen to gossip,” Connie said, “but since I’ve heard this much, I might as well learn what else you know. I’m curious about him, and also interested in why his surgeon suggested NLC when there are so many excellent health centers in Denver. Does Joseph need more than physical therapy?”

“Virginia’s death was caused by a blow to the head, but the authorities questioned whether she died from being struck during the accident, or from a fall she’d had earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“According to Rose, Joseph found his wife unconscious and bleeding from a head wound, and he was taking her to the hospital when the accident occurred. There probably wouldn’t have been an investigation, except for the note Virginia had sent to her brother the day before her death. I don’t remember the exact words, but it was something like, ‘He’s got all of my money. I have nothing else to give him except my life. I’m afraid.’ George Perry jumped to the conclusion that she meant Joseph and he went to the police.”

“I can’t imagine how I missed all of that,” Connie said.

“It could have been that time when we were shorthanded. You were working long hours and didn’t have the time to read the newspapers.”

“Have those suspicions been authenticated?”

“Rose hasn’t mentioned it for several months, so I don’t know anything more than that.”

They started checking the accounts again, and they’d almost finished when a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” Kim invited.

Joseph Caldwell stood diffidently in the open door. “I was a bit hasty in my departure, Miss Harmon. Perhaps we should have that talk.”

Connie’s pulse quickened. She would have been disappointed to have had no further contact with this man. “By all means. Come in the office. Don’t interrupt me for phone calls, Kim.”

She moved toward her office and Joseph followed. Watching the graceful sway of her shoulders, Joseph knew his decision to return had been influenced more by his desire to associate with NLC’s proprietor than by the services the Center could provide. He could find another rehab facility, but where else would he find a woman whose presence gave him a reason, not only to recover physically, but perhaps even to live again? Momentarily, he was seized with the desire to hold Connie close and never let her go—a thought that amazed him so much that he stumbled and almost fell.

Connie turned immediately and grabbed his arm, a touch that electrified both of them, and for a moment, they stared incredulously into each other’s eyes.

Connie released his arm, and striving to ignore the intimate moment they’d just experienced, Joseph carefully lowered his body into the chair and stretched out his leg.

“I apologize for my rudeness earlier,” he said. “I’m not usually so short-tempered, but except for a few childhood illnesses I’ve never been sick, and for the past six months, I’ve been in and out of the hospital without gaining much help for my problem. That’s caused me to become irritable.”

“I understand,” she said.

“I’m only thirty-four years old, and it hurts my pride, as well as my hip, to move around like an old man. Dr. Melrose recommended you, saying you were my best chance for complete recovery.”

“I know Dr. Melrose well. He’s sent several patients to us, including his own son. He was pleased with his son’s progress.”

“I expected a conventional health center, not a religious spa,” Joseph said bitterly. “I don’t have time to go to worship services every day. I’ve been away from my ranch off and on for months, and with summer coming, I need to be at home. How long do you think this will take?”

“I’m not a miracle worker, and if you expect me to use some mysterious hocus-pocus to bring about your healing, you may as well leave. God is important in the healing process, but it takes exercise, rest, proper diet, as well as spiritual commitment, to achieve a complete cure, and that takes time.”

“I’ve just explained to you that I don’t have much time,” he said tersely, then he laughed. “We’re going in circles, Miss Harmon. Someone has to budge, and since I’m the one asking for help, I guess I’ll have to do it. What do you want me to do?”

“I’ll take you on a tour of our facilities so you can see what we have to offer. Our physician will give you a brief exam, and you can fill out an application. We’ll need a copy of your recent medical records, too. Our review board will study your case and decide if we can give you the help you need. If so, we’ll assign a personal trainer to work with you and help implement a daily exercise program.”

“Do you know how long it will take?”

“Lacking any medical details of your injury, except what I’ve observed, I’d guess at least three months.”

He shook his head and gritted his teeth, but he controlled his anger. “All summer!”

“We don’t make prisoners of our therapy patients, but we do expect them to stay here five days a week, and they go home on weekends if they’re able. Those who live at a distance often stay until their program is completed.”

“My ranch is a hundred miles from here, and I’d have to go home periodically to oversee the work. My sister lives nearby and checks on the place every few days, but there are some decisions she can’t make.”

“Let’s take a tour of the buildings now, and you can see what we have to offer. We have golf carts available for our patients to travel if they aren’t able to walk. Are you up to walking?”

He grunted painfully as he got out of the chair. “I walk as much as possible, but I’m slow, and after a short time, I have to stop to rest.”

“We can take all morning because I don’t have an appointment until this afternoon. Let’s go.”

They went first to the gymnasium, located near the administration building. In general, Connie stayed away from the gym as much as possible to avoid Ray Blazer, the manager of the exercise rooms, but since she found it expedient to dispense with unpleasant encounters as quickly as possible, she started the tour there.

The gym provided the best exercise machines available. She and Joseph paused at the door of the fitness room to observe, and avoid the walkers who circled the indoor walking track, either cooling down after workouts, or getting their adrenaline pumping before strenuous exercise.

One elderly woman waved to Connie and rushed on. Amusement spread across Joseph’s face as he observed the lady circling the track in a slow trot.

“Isn’t she a little old for this activity?” he asked.

“Not at all. Della Sinnet is in her eighties, but she’s a regular fixture around here,” Connie said. “Her home is in Colorado Springs, but she spends her winters in a warmer climate. She comes to NLC for several weeks each spring, and she challenges all of us with her vitality.”

“So you have patients of all ages,” Joseph said as he observed the activities—people on treadmills, stationary bikes, stair-steppers, rowers and skate machines. In spite of the busyness, the atmosphere appeared calm, for quiet, classical, inspirational music wafted through the rooms. Videos provided soothing scenes of sunsets, towering trees, placid lakes, tranquil oceans and animals playing with their little ones. The room conveyed a pleasant feeling of exercising in the great outdoors.

Joseph followed Connie into the free-weight room where men and women worked on the equipment, seemingly without effort. “It’ll be a long time before I’m ready for this equipment,” he muttered.

“Not as long as you might think,” Connie said. She beckoned to a young man, who was coaching a woman on the horizontal calf raise machine. He ignored Connie for several minutes as he continued his instructions, then he sauntered toward them. Ray Blazer was a good advertisement for his profession. He had the build of a wrestler, and he kept in shape by exercising two hours each day on the free-weight machines.

“Mr. Caldwell, this is Ray Blazer, manager of the gym and an expert on physical fitness. He’ll explain the various equipment to you. I’ll be on a treadmill while Ray gives you a tour of our exercise facilities.”

A patient stepped off a treadmill and moved to a modified leg stretch machine, so Connie got on the machine and adjusted it to her pace. She faced the weight room, so she’d know when Joseph was ready to leave. Ray moved from one machine to another explaining their various functions to Joseph.

Although Ray was an expert in his field, Connie wished he’d leave NLC. She’d been engaged to Ray until two months ago, and her disappointment in him still burned in her heart. When Ray came to the Center a year ago, it seemed the perfect situation—she could combine her work and romance. She’d thought she loved Ray, but when he disregarded her moral principles, which he’d known about before their engagement, she broke the engagement. But though she tried to avoid being alone with him, she couldn’t drop him from her staff, and it presented a problem.

When Joseph limped in her direction, Connie stepped off the treadmill. “I must sit down,” he muttered. “This leg gives me fits when I’m on it too long.”

“That’s understandable,” Connie said. “Let’s sit on the bench in front of the building, so we can enjoy the sunshine and fresh air.” He held the door open for her, then he eased onto the bench with a deep sigh and closed his eyes.

Joseph breathed heavily, and pain etched deep lines on his face. Sitting beside him, their shoulders touching, Connie had the urge to run her fingers through his finely textured hair, and to wipe away the pain reflected on his face—an emotion that surprised her so much, she leaped to her feet and leaned against the building. When Joseph opened his eyes, he said, “I might as well go home, accept the fact that I’m handicapped, and learn to live with it. I’ll never be able to manage those exercise machines.”

“It’s normal for you to feel like that. I pointed out Della Sinnet to you. She came to us using a walker soon after NLC opened. She’d had two hip replacements. None of us were optimistic about helping her, and there were days when she cried in frustration. After only a few minutes on the treadmill her body hurt so much she had to stop. But Della believed that ‘with God, all things are possible,’ and she kept at it. Slowly, we began to see progress, and the day that Della climbed Faith Mountain, we had a party.”

“Faith Mountain? I’ve never heard of it.”

Connie laughed. “Not many people have. It’s a hill on our property, several hundred feet higher in altitude than we are here, but it’s a steep climb to the top. When one of our patients is able to scale that hill, we know they’ve just about recovered.”

“If an eighty-year-old can make it, perhaps I can, too. I’m ready to continue the tour,” Joseph said, struggling to his feet.

They checked out the pool area and the aerobic room, where exercises were in progress, before they reached the cafeteria.

“It’s a little early, but let’s have lunch anyway. You’re our guest today, Joseph. Incidentally, we use first names at NLC.”

“All health foods, I suppose,” Joseph said, a twinkle in his gray eyes, as they entered a brightly decorated room that could seat fifty diners.

“All our meals are designed with health in mind, but we believe moderation is the key to good living, so the cooks provide occasional treats,” Connie said as she directed Joseph to a small table beside a window. “There’s a buffet in the evening, but we order from a menu for breakfast and lunch.”

When they were seated, she took two menus from the rack and handed one to him. “Our sandwiches are served on whole wheat or rye bread, and everything is low-cal as much as possible. If you want a hot meal, I’d recommend the pasta dishes.”

“Please order for me. I haven’t paid much attention to my diet for several months. I don’t care what I eat.”

“Very well. We’ll have the pasta and chicken, a vegetable salad with tarragon vinegar and a bowl of mixed fruit. Spring water for our beverage.”

A waitress soon placed their meals before them, and Joseph attacked his food as if he hadn’t eaten for a month, surprised that his appetite had returned. He couldn’t remember when he’d been hungry. Appraising Connie obliquely, he wondered how much her presence contributed to his enjoyment of the meal.

Questioning what had happened to her appetite, Connie picked at her pasta. Habitually, she never left a morsel of food on her plate, but Joseph’s keen, appraising glances unnerved her. Remembering that electric moment in the office, she wondered if he sensed the attraction between them also. Finally, she pushed the pasta and salad aside and nibbled on the mixed fruit.

When the silence became unbearable, she directed the conversation to Joseph’s ranch, and they talked amicably while they ate.

“I went to college, intending to study ophthalmology, but, after a year, I knew I couldn’t spend my life tied to an office. Ranching was what I loved, so I changed my major to agriculture, which pleased my father. He was nearing retirement age, and he wanted me to take over the ranch.”

As Joseph described the changes he’d made at the ranch since his father’s retirement, he seemed to forget his physical and emotional problems. They’d just finished eating when the kitchen door opened and a plump, graying woman in her fifties approached their table.

Remembering what Kim had told her, Connie hoped this encounter wouldn’t embarrass Joseph, but when Rose stopped beside them, Connie said, “Mr. Caldwell, this is our head cook, Rose Nash—the one responsible for the good meal we’ve enjoyed. Rose, this is Joseph Caldwell. He’s looking over our facility today.”

“Oh, I know Mr. Caldwell,” she said.

Joseph looked up quickly, and rose awkwardly to his feet. His face registered astonishment, but not guilt or displeasure, as he shook Rose’s hand.

“This is a surprise, Rose! I didn’t know what happened to you after Mr. Perry died. I’m glad to see you. You’re looking—” he hesitated “—fit.”

Rose threw back her head and laughed heartily. “Don’t you mean fat? I try to eat the food Connie prescribes, but I’d overindulged too long before I came to NLC. She hasn’t given up on me yet—I’ve only been here a year.”

“Sit down, Rose,” Connie invited. “You probably need a break.”

Rose took the chair between them, explaining, “Connie, I was employed by Mr. Caldwell’s in-laws for several years.”

“And I remember all the good food you served us,” Joseph said.

“Like that chocolate-pecan pie you liked so well?” Favoring Connie with a mischievous glance, Rose said, “I brought a big box of recipes from the Perry home. If I can find the directions for that pie, I’ll bake one for you.”

“That will definitely be a factor in my decision. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Connie listened silently while Joseph and Rose talked about the Perrys, and the childhood of Virginia and George, her brother. The conversation was lighthearted until Rose stood up. “Time for me to go back to work. It’s almost noon, and I’ll be busy. It’s good to see you again, Mr. Caldwell. I’m sorry you and George are having problems—you were always such good buddies.”

A somber expression clouded Joseph’s face, and he said stiffly, “I’m sorry, too, but I suppose he’s doing what he thinks is right.”

Leaving the dining room, Connie noticed that Joseph walked with increasing difficulty, and she pointed to a golf cart parked nearby. “Let’s take the rest of the tour on wheels, for I have an appointment in about an hour.”

She wanted to save his pride by suggesting the cart was for her benefit, but when he put his arm on her shoulder for added support as he eased into the seat, a little twinge of excitement flowed into her heart. It’s high time you get your emotions under control, she admonished herself sternly. But she wasn’t sure her heart received the message.




Chapter Two


NLC was located on a thirty-acre tract of land in a remote valley. The facility had been built for a convention center, but when the firm that owned the center failed, Connie bought the place. What had once been a forty-room motel turned into a dormitory for residents. If they preferred, patients could lodge in one of ten two-room rustic cabins. NLC had a well-equipped kitchen and spacious dining area, and an inside Olympic-size pool with sliding doors, which opened during the warm season to give the illusion of outdoor bathing.

Connie drove past the small chapel, the dormitory, the shaded area by the creek where the log cabins were located and along a few of the walking trails.

Returning to the administration building, she said, “Our physician has his offices here, and he’s on campus two days each week. You’ll need to see him for a brief exam. He checks each of our patients weekly, so he’s busy, but I think he’ll be available today.”

“What’s my next move? When will you tell me if I’ve been accepted?”

“Our advisory board meets tomorrow evening, so if you’ll come back or telephone midmorning two days from now, I’ll give you an answer. A client is assigned to a personal trainer, chosen according to the workload of the employee. If the trainer and patient aren’t compatible, we make another assignment.”

Connie accompanied Joseph to the reception room of Dr. Ron Alexander. Peggy McCane, the nurse, said the doctor could see him within the hour. Tall, lanky Peggy had been at the Center for over a year, and she was Connie’s jogging partner. Since her broken engagement two months ago, Connie no longer ran alone.

“I’ll leave you now, Joseph. You’re in good hands with Peggy and Dr. Alexander.”

Joseph shifted his cane to his left hand and shook hands with her. Candidly, he said, “I should warn you, Miss Harmon, I’m a cantankerous patient—you may want to take that into consideration during your staff conference.”

She returned his grasp, noting that his fingers were strong and capable, but quickly disengaged her hand, unprepared for the tingling sensation triggered by his touch. The more difficult Joseph was, the less likely she would be to succumb to his charm. If he compelled her admiration when he winced with pain at every step, she couldn’t imagine how attractive she’d find him when he was physically fit. When she’d once watched his rodeo exhibition, Connie had been impressed with the suppleness and grace of his body, and she’d never forgotten his superb performance. Yes, it would definitely be more beneficial to her peace of mind if Joseph was a disagreeable patient.

“That won’t make any difference. We don’t shy away from difficult cases—they present a challenge. We’re dedicated to meeting the needs of our patients at their level. Bye.”

With a wave of her hand, Connie sprinted down the hall to her office. She was next in line on the staff to take a new patient. Should she decline to work with Joseph? She had no doubt that he would demand all of her therapy skills before he achieved complete mobility, but that didn’t worry her. She’d never doubted her skill as a therapist, yet she did question her ability to deal with Joseph without becoming personally involved with him. She’d had no trouble in the past staying on an impersonal level with her patients. Would working with Joseph challenge her self-control?



After Joseph left the doctor’s office, he got into his pickup to return to the ranch. His troubled mind superceded his eagerness to get home, so instead of heading toward the interstate and a quick trip to the ranch, he turned northward on a narrow, winding road through the mountains. After several miles, he stopped at an observation point that provided an unobstructed view of Long’s Peak.

The encounter with Rose Nash had flooded his mind with memories that he wanted to forget. In spite of the suspicions of his brother-in-law and the police, he hadn’t killed Virginia, but had his actions driven his wife to her death? If he could rid himself of the guilty feeling that he’d indirectly caused her to die, he thought he could regain his physical health.

He’d fallen in love with Virginia at their first meeting. Their whirlwind courtship had soon led to a proposal, and he couldn’t believe his good fortune when she’d wanted to marry him.

They’d been deliriously happy for the first year, but Joseph had become disillusioned when he’d realized they had very little in common. His wife had detested his rural lifestyle, while he’d resented the money showered on Virginia by her parents—money that enabled her to spend winter months in Florida or California with the friends she’d had before they were married.

Joseph wasn’t good at pretense, and when his love dwindled, he could no longer treat Virginia with the affection she craved. When she’d wandered away, he’d done nothing to prevent it.

When his love for Virginia had been at its peak, he realized that his regard for God had sunk to its lowest ebb, and when he’d no longer loved her, he was still out of fellowship with God. Once the close relationship with his wife and with God was gone, he didn’t know how to regain either of them.

Joseph stepped out of the truck, and leaned against the stone barrier at the edge of the precipice. From his pocket, he took out a New Testament that a chaplain at the hospital had given him. When Joseph had complained that God seemed so far away, the chaplain had answered, “God hasn’t moved—you have,” and he’d quoted a verse from the writings of Solomon. “‘I know that everything God does will endure forever.’ Once you’ve trusted God for your daily provision and your eternal salvation, it’s a done deal. Your affections may wane, but God is always there—faithful and steadfast.”

Joseph turned to a Psalm that had once been meaningful to him. “Whom have I in heaven but You? And being with You, I desire nothing on earth.”

He bowed his head and longed for the day when he could regain the fellowship he’d once had with God.



The advisory board met the next night to consider several applicants. Files on each of them had been provided to board members in advance. Kim attended the meetings, not only as a voting member, but to keep records of the proceedings. They met in the reception room beside Connie’s office. Chaplain Eric Sadler, Dr. Alexander, Ray Blazer, Connie and Kim were permanent members of the board. Other staff members came periodically to report on the progress of their patients. Four out of five of the permanent members had to agree on applicants before they were accepted. Ever since Connie had broken her engagement to Ray, he was often obstinate during this decision making, especially if he thought Connie was particularly keen on accepting the individual.

Ray opposed Joseph’s application immediately. “The man is suspected of murdering his wife. His presence would be bad publicity for NLC.”

“If he’s in trouble, he probably needs our ministry more than many others,” Connie replied evenly.

“It’s my opinion,” Eric stated, “that the larger the problem, the greater our responsibility to deal with it. If Mr. Caldwell is innocent, he must be carrying a heavy emotional burden, in addition to his physical problems.”

Dr. Alexander, a middle-aged, tall, heavyset bachelor, nodded agreement. “I haven’t received his records yet, but I did talk to his surgeon, Dr. Melrose. He concludes that Mr. Caldwell’s mental anguish is partly responsible for the slow healing of his body, and that’s why he recommended NLC as the place for him. Dr. Melrose also believes in Caldwell’s innocence. I’m in favor of accepting his application.”

Joseph was accepted by a vote of four to one, with Ray dissenting. Connie was assigned to be his personal trainer.

When the meeting adjourned, Ray fell in step with Connie as she walked down the hallway. “I want to talk to you, Connie.”

“Go ahead,” she said.

“Not here. Let’s take a drive.”

She shook her head. “No, Ray.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“How could I? But in any case we have nothing to say to each other.”

“Don’t you trust yourself? By refusing to be alone with me, are you afraid I’ll break down your feeble defenses?”

Connie didn’t answer, but continued doggedly toward the dormitory, and the small apartment on the first floor that she shared with Kim. Considering the growing relationship between Kim and Eric, the chaplain, Connie knew she might soon be staying in the apartment alone.

“Let me come in for a few minutes. You can’t be serious about breaking our engagement. You’ve had time to think about this. Everybody deserves a second chance.”

He followed her into the foyer, and Connie motioned to a couch near the door.

“I don’t have anything to say, Ray, but if you’ll be brief, I’ll listen,” she said curtly.

When they were seated, he took her hand. “If you won’t agree to live with me for a year’s trial, we’ll go ahead and get married now.” From his pocket, he withdrew the diamond solitaire she’d returned, and when he tried to put it on her finger, she shoved his hand away.

“You still don’t agree with my conviction that couples should avoid intimacy until after marriage. Since I’m the coordinator of the local Marriage First support group, I won’t have a spouse who opposes that concept.”

Connie fingered the pin on the lapel of her blouse. In a gold setting, a pair of intertwined wedding bands and the slogan, Marriage First, stated the group’s purpose. In an age when the institution of marriage was being threatened by divorce and premarital sex, Connie and her friends had joined other groups nationwide to encourage abstinence. Ray had laughed at her beliefs, and she found that hard to forgive.

“But you still want me,” Ray said, and he bent forward to kiss her. Connie moved to elude his gesture.

“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.

“Okay?”

“Not a twinge so far. You’re a careful driver.”

“Paddy’s Point is only two miles on this trail, but it’s too far for you to walk,” she shouted, as she revved the motor and moved forward. The vehicle lurched into a small ditch, and Joseph’s chin bumped into Connie’s head.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Did that jolt your leg?” she yelled, for the noise of the engine was deafening.

“Don’t worry about me—I’m fine.”

They soon arrived at a scenic spot, where a few years earlier, a forest fire had destroyed the tall trees, making way for a new stand of aspens and pines. Several miles to the west, the mountains around Berthoud Pass lifted their majestic peaks skyward. A small table and two benches provided a resting place for patients who jogged along this path. They were hailed by a couple of teenagers from Lakewood, who came to NLC daily to work out in the gym and test their endurance by climbing Faith Mountain and jogging back on the reservoir trail.

Joseph grunted as he laboriously raised his injured limb and eased off the four-wheeler. Connie stood by, ready to assist him if necessary. Joseph gasped, grabbed his cane for support, and stood for a few minutes before he limped to the table and sat heavily on the bench facing westward. When Connie brought the food basket, his eyes were fixed on the distant mountains, but noting the bleakness expressed on his face, she surmised he wasn’t observing the beauty of nature.

“It’s hard for me not to be angry when I see those two kids running down a trail like that, when I can’t even walk.”

Ever conscious of the purpose of NLC—to heal the body and the spirit—Connie pondered her reply as she spread a cloth on the table and set out the food items Rose had packed for them.

“Was the accident your fault?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he said indignantly. “I was taking my wife to the hospital, and we were traveling in a blizzard, with visibility at zero level. A truck came around a curve in the road, skidded, and we hit head-on.”

“Then, why are you carrying around a load of guilt?”

“Hey,” Joseph said angrily. “Are you a psychiatrist? My mind doesn’t need to be healed. I don’t want you probing around.”

“I’ve had a lot of psychology training, and I told you the first day that we work with the spirit as well as the body. It’s a two-fold program. I’m not interested in your past,” and as Connie said the words, she doubted she was being completely truthful, “but you strike me as a man who has a load of worry on his mind. Even Dr. Melrose’s report indicated as much, but he wasn’t specific.”

He didn’t answer, and Connie said, “When you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen, but let’s have our picnic and enjoy the beauty of God’s creation. Tomorrow, you start the hard stuff, so you need relaxation today.”

Ignoring his silence, Connie offered a brief prayer of thanks for the food. On a paper plate, she laid a piece of chicken, a slice of bread, quartered one of the tomatoes and placed it in front of him.

“I hope you like iced tea—that’s all I have except water.”

He nodded, his face still gloomy. She placed the plate and beverage in front of him.

He sipped the tea. “No sugar?” Joseph asked grumpily.

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Connie reached in the basket. “One or two packets?”

With a sheepish grin, he said, “I don’t want any sugar. I’m wallowing in self-pity, and I was ready to be angry if you told me I couldn’t have any sugar.”

Connie’s laugh bubbled. “You told me you’d be cantankerous, but I didn’t expect you to be childish.”

He laughed lowly, and Connie was glad he hadn’t taken offense at her words. “You might as well learn the worst about me as soon as possible. Sit down and eat your lunch. You don’t have to wait on me. I’ve prepared more than one meal for myself.”

Connie sat beside Joseph, and made a sandwich of the chicken and bread.

Still moody, Joseph said, “I don’t suppose you know what’s it’s like to have your life put on hold—everything you want to do pushed on the back burner—your whole life disrupted in a matter of seconds.”

Connie nibbled on a tomato wedge before she said, “As a matter of fact, I do, but I don’t want to talk about that now.”

“So you understand why I didn’t want to talk about the accident—it’s still too painful.”

“Certainly, I understand. I’m not pushing you.”

Except for an occasional comment about the food, they ate in silence until their initial hunger was sated. The serenity and the beauty of the spot soothed Joseph. His leg pained him, and he dreaded climbing back on the ATV for the downhill ride, but except for that, he was comfortable with Connie. He experienced peace and contentment he hadn’t known in years. How much should he tell her? Or should he tell her anything?

“I won’t talk about the time my future plans were disrupted,” Connie said, disturbing his thoughts, “but I do understand how frustrating a physical disability can be. I know from experience how difficult it is to be unable to walk properly.”

He turned to stare at her, his gray eyes incredulous. “I can’t believe you’ve ever been sick a day in your life.”

“Oh, but I have. When I was born, my left leg was shorter than the other, and I limped badly when I started walking. My parents were afraid I’d always be crippled, but they were people of prayer, and they made up their minds that they wouldn’t accept my disability as permanent. So they prayed for my healing, and asked others to pray, and I sincerely believe that the reason I’m walking normally today is due to Divine healing. I went through a rough childhood at fitness centers, taking stretching exercises and strengthening my body in general.”

Joseph’s expression softened to hope. “And that’s all it took?”

“Not exactly. They kept me on a strict diet so I wouldn’t gain weight, and gradually my leg lengthened. One day, when I was ten years old, I was reading the Bible incident about Jesus healing a man’s arm, and I actually felt my leg stretch until it was the same length as the other one.”

Joseph’s face registered skepticism as she talked, so she was surprised at his next comment.

“He said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand.’ He stretched it out, and his hand was completely restored.”

Connie’s eyebrows lifted. “So you are familiar with the Bible!”

“When I was a child, my parents forced me to spend every Sunday afternoon memorizing Bible verses, and that was enough Scripture to last a lifetime. I haven’t read the Bible since I left home.”

Considering his attitude, Connie wondered how she could encourage spiritual and physical healing in a man who had so definitely turned away from God’s word.

“You were completely healed?” Joseph asked.

“Yes, but the left leg isn’t as strong as the other one, so I’ve continued my exercise program. God did his part, and I do mine.”

“And that’s why you became a physical therapist?”

She nodded. “I’d been in and out of gyms most of my life, learning the importance of maintaining a strong, healthy body. When it was time for me to decide on a career, I remembered the story of the four men who brought their friend to Jesus for healing. Jesus forgave the man’s sins before He cured his disability, saying He healed the man when He saw the faith of his friends. I believe spiritual commitment has a great deal to do with the health of the body, and that God enables His followers to bring about that healing.”

Joseph removed the cover and took several bites of the strawberry yogurt.

“I want to believe you’re right, and in my heart, I know you are. I resented my father’s authoritarianism, but the spiritual truths I learned as a child are still ingrained in my mind. I’ve become cynical, but it’s only skin-deep.”

“Since you believe that, you’re well on your way to recovery.”

Joseph didn’t speak again as he slowly scraped the last of the yogurt from the plastic container and picked up an apple. Connie welcomed the silence, for it gave her time to think. Although she’d thought this trip might be a mistake, it had given her important insight into Joseph’s character. He finished the last of his apple, and threw the core to a waiting raven that, for the last five minutes, had been hopping from one branch to another in a nearby tree, noisily making his presence known.

Without meeting Connie’s eyes, Joseph said, “You mentioned guilt—I feel no guilt about the automobile accident. My wife had been injured, the telephone lines were down because of the blizzard, and I was trying to take her to the hospital. The truck crossed the center line and hit our car. I couldn’t have avoided any of that.”

Obliquely, Connie glanced at her watch. They should leave soon to give Joseph time to rest before dinner, but this informal session might be Joseph’s most beneficial therapy, so she shifted her position on the narrow bench and listened intently.

“However, Virginia and I had been growing apart for a long time, and I let it happen. I feel guilty about that. I should have worked harder to make our marriage succeed.” He sighed deeply. “It’s too late to do anything about that, so I should let it go, but I can’t seem to.”

“You might remember this Scripture verse from your childhood. ‘Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.’”

He smiled grimly. “Yes, I remember that verse. It was easy to memorize the words, but it’s difficult to accept them as a rule for living.”

“We can’t change the past, as much as we might like to. Can’t you try to forget what happened and look to the future?”

“I intend to try, but it won’t be easy. What about you?” he continued, eyeing her skeptically. “Can you unload baggage from the past that’s troubling you?”

“As of now, I have. That sermon I preached to you found lodging in my own heart. I’d been debating a decision, but I’ve made it. No more vacillating.” The conversation had progressed into ticklish matters, and Connie started gathering up the picnic items.

“We should start back. I have some office work to finish, and you may want to swim or rest before dinner, depending on how you feel.”

Rubbing his leg, Joseph said, “Right now, I want to rest, and I doubt I’ll have changed my mind when we get back to NLC.”

Joseph’s leg had stiffened during the leisurely hour they’d enjoyed, and it took a lot of maneuvering to seat him on the four-wheeler. Sensing his discomfort, Connie drove slowly, but she heard him stifle a groan when she hit the brake quickly to avoid striking a deer that ran across the trail. When they arrived at the dorm, Connie turned off the engine and hopped off the ATV. Joseph stared at her, a ludicrous expression on his face, and he made no move to step down.

“Connie, I’ve always considered myself a level-headed person, and I can’t imagine why I ever consented to go riding on this ATV. The pressure on my body as we came down that trail has numbed my left leg. I can’t move.”

In spite of being alarmed at his statement, his perplexed expression amused her, and she grinned.

“I’ve doubted myself ever since I suggested the picnic. As your trainer, I should have known better. Do you suppose we have a bad effect on each other?”

He laughed. “That’s possible, but I can’t stay on this ATV the rest of my life, and I can’t move. What are we going to do?”

Contrite, Connie trotted to the other side of the ATV and started massaging his leg.

“At least, there’s some small gain—when the leg is numb, it doesn’t hurt,” Joseph said, still chuckling over his predicament.

They were startled by Dr. Alexander’s booming voice. “What are you two doing?” He towered over them, his face black as a thundercloud.

“Joseph and I went on a picnic to Paddy’s Point, and he can’t get off the ATV.”

Joseph flexed his leg. “It’s better now, but, Doctor, I need some help dismounting. I’ve had less trouble getting off a bucking horse.”

Dr. Alexander was a tall man, and as Connie supported and protected Joseph’s leg, the doctor lifted him off the ATV.

“Walk around and see if you notice any problem,” the doctor commanded.

Connie took Joseph’s arm, and walking with his cane, he said, “No worse than it was yesterday.

“In spite of the discomfort, I did enjoy the picnic,” Joseph said. “I admitted a few things I haven’t been able to put into words before.”

“That’s good. Mutual understanding is important between a trainer and patient. Try to get some rest before dinner.”



Joseph was already in the cafeteria when Connie entered the next morning, and Rose Nash sat beside him. Since they were deep in conversation, Connie waved and moved on to sit beside Kim and Eric.

“How’s your new patient doing?” Eric said.

“We start therapy this morning, and for the first time in my career, I’m afraid of failing.”

“Isn’t it too soon to consider that?” Eric asked.

“Of course, but I feel we’re Joseph’s last hope, and if I can’t help him, where else can he turn?”

Eric laughed lightly. “How about God? He’s our ultimate help. If we encourage Joseph to trust in God, regardless of his physical problems, all will be well.”

Connie flushed. “That was a careless remark for me to make. For a moment, I forgot the major emphasis here at NLC.”

“Eric,” Kim said, “perhaps you can befriend Joseph and help him with his spiritual problems.”

“I’ll do that, of course, because it’s my job, but I also want to do it for Joseph’s sake. He strikes me as a man with a lot to offer others, and we need to work toward his complete healing.”

Eric was an important addition to NLC, having joined the staff during the year. A slender man, with prematurely graying hair, his black eyes revealed not only his Creole heritage, but also his intense passion to help others mature spiritually.

Joseph finished eating before Connie did, and he stopped by their table.

“Meet me in front of the dorm in a half hour,” she said.

“Good,” he answered. “That will give me time to change into exercise clothes.” He lifted his hand in understanding. Connie soon finished her meal, deposited the tray on the rack near the kitchen and left the cafeteria. Ray Blazer was waiting for her beside the door.

“When are we going to talk?”

“Now is as good a time as any,” Connie answered. She walked away from the building, and when they were out of hearing of those leaving the dining hall, she said, “I will not resume our relationship. I’m happy this way—our engagement was a mistake, but I hope we can still be amicable associates. It isn’t good for NLC when we’re at odds.”

“You’re sure you want it that way?” he asked angrily.

“Yes.”

“What if I tell you I’m leaving?”

“I don’t want you to resign, but that decision is up to you. If tension between us affects the health of our patients, it will be best for you to leave.”

“So I’m good enough to manage your gym, but not good enough to marry,” he retorted angrily.

Ray stalked angrily toward the gymnasium. Another chapter in her life closed. “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead…” Turning toward the dorm, she noticed that Joseph sat on a bench in front of the building, looking her way. Why did she mind that he’d witnessed her encounter with Ray?

She smiled at him. “Ready?”

“No, I haven’t been to my room. I had to rest.”

Contritely, she said, “I hope that trip on the ATV didn’t add to your discomfort.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. My injury isn’t any worse, but the least amount of exertion saps my energy.”

“Rest as long as you want to—we aren’t on a tight schedule this morning.”

When Connie left her room a half hour later, Joseph wasn’t in sight, but he soon joined her, dressed in denim shorts, a green knit shirt, and sturdy walking shoes.

“Good choice of clothing,” she said approvingly. “Let’s go this way.” She directed Joseph along a smooth-surfaced, shaded walk behind the administration building. Connie wore khaki shorts and shirt, and a water bottle hung at her waist.

“This is our easiest walking path,” she explained, “We have three other trails requiring various degrees of physical skill, and the test of your graduation from NLC is to climb Faith Mountain.”

Connie matched her steps to Joseph’s slow gait, and when they were out of sight of the buildings, she said, “Now, give me your cane.”

He paused, startled. “I can’t walk without it.”

“Have you tried?”

“Only a few steps without holding on to something.”

“You must start depending on your own strength instead of the cane.”

His facial muscles contracted into grim lines, and the skin whitened around his lips. He struggled with fear.

“What if I fall and end up worse off than I am now? I had a few nasty spills in the hospital when I was in therapy.”

Connie understood his hesitancy, for she remembered how frightened she’d been to trust her own strength when she was a child. “I can’t guarantee that you won’t fall, but I’ll walk beside you, and you can put your hand on my shoulder and lean on me.”

He handed her the cane, and she tucked it under her left arm. “Just swing your arms slowly and walk as naturally as you can,” she encouraged. He took a few experimental steps, and pain etched deep lines on his face.

Connie laid a hand on his shoulder, and her pulse quickened at the touch. You’re a trainer—he’s your patient! she reminded her heart. “I know that must hurt dreadfully,” she said, “but you have pain when you walk with the cane, don’t you?” He nodded and gritted his teeth. “There’s a bench up ahead. Look toward it as your goal—you can sit down as soon as you reach it.”

Joseph moved forward slowly, but relentlessly, and occasionally he grunted in pain. Once he stumbled, and Connie’s right arm circled his waist. “Put your arm on my shoulder now,” she commanded.

With her support, he walked the rest of the way and collapsed on the bench. Tears of pain and distress seeped from his closed eyelids. Connie sat beside him, took a towel from her pocket and mopped perspiration from his face. She placed the water bottle in his hand.

“Take a drink when you feel like it.”

With his eyes still closed, he lifted the bottle to his lips and drank several long gulps. Water dribbled down his face, and Connie wiped the drops from his chin.

Joseph’s heart pounded, and he knew the extra stress wasn’t all a result of the exercise. First, Connie’s arm around his waist, and now her gentle touch when she wiped his face, drove a small wedge in the barrier he’d built around his heart. Considering the problems he faced, the barrier had to remain intact, but it had been a long time since anyone had fussed over him, and her kindness soothed his troubled spirit.

“I’m so ashamed,” he said. “I haven’t been this weak since I was a baby. I’ve never depended on a woman for strength since my mother cut the apron strings.”

“I told you it’s sometimes necessary to change trainers. Some men resent taking help from a woman. It will be no problem to assign a man to take over your program.”

His eyes popped open. “I didn’t mean that. It’s humbling for me to depend on anyone. I want you to continue.”

“I wanted to give you a choice, but you must learn to trust me. I won’t ask you to do more than you’re capable of doing. One of the first steps in healing is to admit you need help and can’t handle your situation alone.”

He closed his eyes again. “I trust you.”

“But you must also trust God.” He didn’t respond.

Connie massaged Joseph’s neck and shoulders and waited for him to find the courage to go on, looking with pleasure around the little glade where they sat. The trail at this point was overhung by huge spruce trees, and a patch of wild roses bloomed in a sunny spot. Pink flowers grew in clusters on the young branches. A downy woodpecker, oblivious to their presence, dug in a tree trunk for insects. She’d always enjoyed this spot, but it seemed even more precious today, and looking at Joseph, she reluctantly admitted the man by her side had made the difference.

Joseph breathed deeply, and Connie thought he slept, for he jumped when a Steller’s jay flew into the tree above them, announcing its arrival in strident tones.

Joseph stirred and opened his eyes. “Shall we go on?” he asked reluctantly.

Connie grinned at him. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it, but I would like for you to continue to the next resting spot. If you make a round-trip to that point, you’ll have walked a quarter of a mile.”

He struggled to his feet, his hand on her shoulder.

“It feels like a streak of fire is running up and down my leg, but I’ll try to make it to the next bench.” He peered at her. “If I can’t make it on my own, will you carry me back to the dorm?”

She smiled at him. “I won’t have to carry you. You’ll manage. Do you want your cane?”

“Not yet.”

Connie laid the cane on the bench. “I’ll leave it here until we come back.”

He looked longingly at the cane, but with an effort, he started walking. “It gets easier after I’ve taken a few steps.”




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