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And his own mother’s critical condition as well. In spite of almost daily phone calls to Higley Lakes, he still hadn’t been granted permission to visit.
So, he was out here exhausting himself, so he wouldn’t think. About any of it.
He’d prayed to have thoughts of Martha Moore removed from his mind.
So far, David knew God hadn’t answered that prayer yet. Or if he had, he’d said no.
David had spent two hours that night sitting in the Explorer with her outside the building, stimulated by the way her mind worked, answering personal questions that he customarily avoided, with her understated feminine scent lingering in the air.
And he knew he was attracted to Martha Moore. Abundantly attracted. And for the first time since he’d started his new life, he couldn’t seem to shut the feeling off.
He mowed and turned. Mowed and turned. Hoping to focus, to get to that place deep inside himself where he could get back in touch with his purpose in life. Realign himself with what mattered most.
The blades whirred. The grass flew. And no matter how deep he went, Martha Moore was still there.
“Why?” he finally said out loud, sweating as he stopped the mower at the end of the last strip.
Because it’s time.
David didn’t bother to hide his frustration. “Time for what?”
No answer. Which meant he already had the answer and just wasn’t looking. Or listening.
“Because it’s time for another challenge?” he asked.
Perhaps.
Great. He could be right. He could be wrong. And it wasn’t telling, this voice or intuition or angel, whatever it was.
“I’m not giving in, no matter how great the temptation,” he announced.
He was not willing to pursue his attraction to Martha Moore.
Okay. “I’m not.”
Fine.
“It’s uncomfortable as hell.”
Perhaps not that bad.
Oh. Right. “I know what to do.”
Yes.
He pushed the mower back to the tool shed. Put it inside. Locked the padlock on the door.
“I just have to immerse myself in my studies, in the lives of all the people I can help. I’ll pay another visit to Whitney Hines’s father…” The man had politely refused David’s previous attempt to initiate any kind of communication. “I’ve got Shelley Moore to watch, Ellen’s investigation to help with. And I was thinking about talking to Bonnie Nielson about holding services at the senior center once a month. More if they’re well attended…”
Okay.
His hand on the door leading into his kitchen, he stopped again, looked up at the stillness in the night sky. “You don’t sound too enthusiastic. Is this not what you want me to do?”
I want what you want.
Good. Inside, he locked the door, turning off lights as he went, and headed upstairs to bed.
What he wanted was to remain part of the bigger picture, to provide guidance and support to the people of Shelter Valley, to live a life of integrity and simplicity, a life dedicated to others.
