Twin Blessings and Toward Home: Twin Blessings / Toward Home. Carolyne Aarsen
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an architect, she reminded herself. A secure, solid, hardworking architect who lives for schedules and routine.
A man who took good care of the women in his life—his nieces, his mother.
A man who probably would never do to Karen what Henri had done to her, she thought with a faint feeling of remorse.
And in spite of his comment about Karen, a man who would be out of her life once they all went back to Calgary, she reminded herself. She and Logan moved in different circles. Only for this moment had their lives intersected.
The girls gave her noisy goodbyes as they left. Logan ushered them out the door. In the doorway he turned to face her. “Thanks for working with them tonight.” Still holding on to the door, his eyes met hers.
Once again, Sandra had that peculiar feeling of an intangible allurement that tightened between them, drawing her toward him.
She looked away and nodded. Her only reply.
The door closed, and Sandra was alone again. As she heard the girls’ excited chatter and Logan’s deep voice fading away, it was as if the house had grown smaller, emptier.
Restless, Sandra got up, went to the stereo and turned it up. Unfamiliar music spilled out of the speakers. Bethany’s CD, Sandra remembered. She was about to turn it down but was stopped by the music. Upbeat and catchy. She found herself tapping her fingers against her leg in time to the beat.
The singer sang the words with an absoluteness that Sandra would once have dismissed as narrow-minded, but the sincerity in her voice kept Sandra from turning the song off.
In the lyrics of the song Sandra heard a call back to the faith of her youth, a call to come and worship Jesus as Lord, a challenge that one day every tongue would confess God, every knee would bow.
Sandra felt a shiver of apprehension followed by a pressing of guilt and sorrow as the music swelled, built in intensity, the singer drawing Sandra in.
She felt a touch of God’s hand. Just like she did when she was outside, when she looked into the heavens and knew for certainty that the vastness and the order she saw there didn’t come through happenstance.
She hit the power button and turned the music off. Standing alone in the empty room, Sandra closed her eyes as the now familiar loneliness washed over her.
Home, she thought. She wished she could go home.
But that was out of the question.
“He hasn’t kissed her yet,” Brittany whispered to her sister, setting the plates on the table.
Bethany spun around, still holding the utensils she had pulled out of the drawer. “How do you know?”
Brittany glanced over her shoulder and tiptoed to the door. But Uncle Logan was still in the shower.
“I watched them last night. They were just sitting and talking.” She shook her head in disgust. “This is taking forever.”
Bethany carefully set the knives beside the plates Brittany had laid out. “We just have to wait, I guess.”
“I wish I knew if that Karen was going to come back.”
Bethany shuddered. “She really likes Uncle Logan. I wish she’d leave him alone.”
“Well, I don’t think he likes her much. He never even held her hand when they were walking.”
“So we have to keep getting Sandra and Uncle Logan together,” said Bethany with a sigh. “We don’t have much longer.”
“Good morning, girls,” Logan said from the doorway, toweling his wet hair. “You’re up bright and early.”
Brittany threw Bethany a guilty look, wondering if Uncle Logan had heard what they said. She looked at him, smiling, hoping he didn’t. “Just thought we’d get up early so we can do some schoolwork.”
Logan paused, holding the towel, looking at Brittany as if he didn’t quite believe her. “You’re doing homework in the morning?”
Brittany nodded. “Sandra gave us a contest. She said if we get our work done by tonight, she was going to take us out to look at the meteor shower.” She stopped. “Oops. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
“You weren’t?” Logan hung on to his towel, his dark eyes flicking over one, then the other twin. “Why not?”
“I think it was a secret,” Brittany said, biting her lip.
Logan nodded once, then left.
“Do you think he was mad?” Bethany asked, her eyes wide. “He sounded mad.”
Brittany shrugged. “I hope not. Otherwise Sandra might get in trouble with him again.”
Logan stood by the window watching as Sandra came up the road to the cabin, her knapsack slung over one shoulder, her hands shoved in the pockets of her faded blue jeans. She wore her hair back, tied in a heavy braid that hung over one shoulder.
She looked much younger than he knew her to be. More like an older sister of his nieces than their tutor.
Mentally he compared her to Karen, whose clothing was always up to date, polished.
Once he had envisioned Karen as a potential wife, the perfect complement to an up-and-coming architect.
But after seeing Karen on Sunday and spending time with her again, he knew that even though she seemed more than willing to come back to him, he wasn’t ready to take her. Nothing in his circumstances had changed. He still had the girls, and she still wasn’t comfortable around them.
Whereas Sandra had an ease and naturalness that he admired, in spite of questionable characteristics that he didn’t. Like keeping tonight’s excursion a big secret from him.
As Sandra came up the wooden sidewalk to the cabin, Logan stepped away from the window hoping she hadn’t seen him. When she knocked on the door, he was already there, opening it for her.
She looked taken aback at the sight of him, then recovered. “Hey, there. How are you?” she asked, stepping past him. “The girls ready for another day of education?”
Logan nodded, wondering how he was going to approach her. It seemed that just as one thing was resolved between them, something else came up.
He decided to go straight to it.
“Brittany told me about your plans to see the meteor shower tonight.”
Sandra nodded, shrugging her knapsack off her shoulder. “That’s right.”
“She said that you had asked her not to tell me. I’d like to know why you don’t think I need to be consulted about this.”
Sandra let the knapsack drop with a muffled thud and looked directly at him, all traces of good humor vanished. “Is this going to go on until I’m done, Logan Napier?” she asked, her voice chilled. “This constant questioning and mistrusting and wondering if I’m good enough?” She began pulling books out of her backpack, her movements jerky with anger. “I’m taking my job with them very seriously.” She slammed a book on the table. “I’m not some heathen that is determined to turn your nieces astray. They’re learning things and I’m doing a good job.” Another book joined the first with a heavy thump. She threw a fistful of pencils on the table.
Logan watched her sudden spill of anger, heard the indignation in her voice. It seemed out of proportion to what he had asked her, and for a moment he wondered what was behind her anger. He forced his mind to the topic at hand.
“You have to admit, Sandra, I have a right to know what’s happening,” he said quietly, leaning against the door. “All I ask is that you let me know.”
Sandra’s gaze flew to his, her dark eyes snapping with suppressed indignation. She blinked, then looked at the books on the