Blessings. Lois Richer
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always did.
“Yes, thank you, dear. We had a lovely time. Furly Bowes, she’s my assistant, you know. Well, Furly got there long before me, had all the breads nicely rising. We had our cases filled before nine. I do love it when that happens. Folks appreciate a full selection.”
Miss Winifred walked over to the counter and returned with a plain white box with red script running across one corner. Nicole read it surreptitiously. “Blessing Bakery—made with love.”
“I brought you one of my specialties.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have! Not when I’m such a push-over for anything baked.” Nicole savored the last spoonful of chili with a smile. “We used to have a housekeeper who made shortbread at Christmas. It literally melted in your mouth.”
Now, where had that come from? The people of Blessing, Colorado, didn’t need to know the details of her pathetic past. Nicole lifted the lid of the small square box.
“Oh! It’s a big cookie.”
“One of my love cookies. I only make them when I feel the Lord gives me a special message to pass on.” She sat down across from Nicole, her eyes sparkling. “Go ahead, read it.”
With gentle fingers lest she damage the flaky, heart-shaped cookie, Nicole lifted it out of the box. Vivid red icing spelled out a message.
“All sunshine makes a desert.” Puzzled, she looked across at Miss Winifred. “It’s very nice.”
“Oh, it’s not just nice, dear. Those are words to live by. Problems come to us for a reason and help us appreciate the good times far more than we would have without them. Here, let me pour you some tea to go with that.” She tipped her cornflower teapot, allowing the fragrant aroma of black currents to waft through the room.
“This tea is like nectar.” Nicole sipped again, then broke off a tiny corner of the cookie and ate it. “Your cookies are delicious, too, Miss Winifred. I promise I’ll think about your words.”
“Thank you.” The older woman fiddled with her cup, her forehead wrinkled. Finally she looked up at Nicole. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, dear, and I’m afraid that’s caused you some hurt.”
“What do you mean?”
“Today was difficult, wasn’t it?”
Nicole quickly glanced away. She had no desire to answer.
“I knew it would be.”
“How could you know?” Nicole kept nibbling, working her way around the icing words.
“If nothing else, I can see it on your face. You’re worn out. It’s partly the newness of the job, of course, but I believe it goes deeper than that. My nephew is not an easy man to deal with lately. He’s had too many surprises to render him totally accepting of his situation.”
“What do you mean?”
Miss Winifred sighed heavily, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“Joshua loved his wife and family. He loved his work. The inroads he made into giving this community quality care and providing for his family’s future drove him. Then suddenly that future was ripped away. He’s hurting, confused and discouraged. He feels he’s lost control of everything, that nothing is happening the way he wants. To Joshua, control is everything.”
“I don’t suppose losing his wife or his partner was easy.” A rush of sympathy washed over her. It had to be difficult managing under these circumstances, trying to keep everything together.
“No, it wasn’t. It tore apart everything he’d believed was true. Now he’s floundering.”
“He’s more than competent as a doctor. He gives first-rate care to everyone he sees,” Nicole reassured the older woman.
“Medically, yes. He does his job very well. But he remains aloof from it, outside his patients’ problems. He can’t let himself get involved, you see. And that’s a big problem.”
“It is?” What else was a doctor supposed to do, for heaven’s sake?
“Yes, dear. You see, over the past eight years this town has grown used to running to Joshua. They’ve seen him handle situations they never believed could be solved. They’ve grown to trust him with their lives, their children, everything. He’s served on town council, the school board—oh, a host of things.”
“I’m glad.” What else could she say? She, who’d never been deeply involved in anyone else’s life, though she’d longed to.
“But now he’s opted out.”
“Excuse me?” Nicole lifted her head to stare at her hostess. “What do you mean, opted out?”
Miss Winifred shrugged.
“Joshua doesn’t get involved. Oh, he diagnoses whatever’s wrong, just as he always has. He hands out the required prescriptions, deals with the injuries that need treating, repairs the wounds as best he can. But emotionally, he doesn’t get involved.”
“But—” Nicole stopped the words. What in the world could Miss Winifred mean? That Joshua was still mourning? Wasn’t that natural for a man who’d lost a beloved wife?
In a second Nicole’s mind flashed back to her own mother’s death and her father’s grief-stricken state. Surely this little baker woman couldn’t be suggesting that Joshua Darling—
“He’s locked himself into a rigid need for control.” Miss Winifred shook her head sadly. “My sister would have known what to say, how to get him to refocus. I’ve tried, but…” Her voice trailed away, sadness filling its soft tones.
“Your sister?” Nicole was getting lost.
“Joshua’s mother. She was such a bright, vivacious woman. She always wanted children, but they weren’t able to have any. They adopted Joshua when he was nine. He was a sober, determined little fellow even then, but Honey, my sister, could coax the joy out of him with just a word or a touch.”
“What happened to her?”
“She and my brother-in-law holidayed in Florida after they got it into their heads to be sailors. They were celebrating their eighteenth anniversary. A gale damaged their boat. They were lost at sea. Joshua was twelve then. I took him in, raised him. They’d have wanted that.”
“I’m sorry.” Nicole laid her hand over the smooth white fingers.
“Oh, don’t be. Honey never did anything if she couldn’t do it wholeheartedly. That’s why I know she’d know exactly how to deal with Joshua. Unfortunately, I don’t.”
There wasn’t anything Nicole could say. She wasn’t exactly sure what the problem was, but even if she understood completely, Dr. Darling would hardly accept any personal advice she had to offer. He’d made that more than clear.
“That’s why I was so hopeful when I knew you were coming. I believe God sent you here specifically to meet our need, Nicole.” The blue eyes flashed with intensity. “I think He intends to use you to help Joshua reenter life.”
Dread—stark, utter dread—rolled over Nicole, swamping her.
“Miss Winifred, I’m very glad I could come to Blessing, and if I can help out at the office, then I’m glad to do so. But I don’t think you should look for anything more.” She gulped, then took a sip of tea, her throat bone-dry. “Believe me, I’m not anybody’s answer to prayer.”
“Oh, sweetheart, my faith isn’t just in you. It’s in God.” The blue eyes glowed with inner fire. “Someone has to show Joshua that we don’t control the future. Someone has to help him understand that following all his rules and laws isn’t going to protect him from life.”
Miss Winifred got up from the table, rinsed out the teapot and dried it carefully. She set it inside her cabinet, closed the door quietly,