Tracie Peterson Read online

  “Come in.”

  A man entered the office in a determined businesslike manner. He extended his arm to shake hands with Cara as he introduced himself.

  “Russell Owens. I’m managing the Robert Kerns gubernatorial campaign.”

  The man wore an expensive gray suit and wire-rimmed glasses that gave him a studious look. Cara immediately pegged him as a little boy trying hard to appear grown-up.

  “I’m Cara Kessler,” she finally replied. “Won’t you have a seat?”

  Mr. Owens gave her a closed-mouth smile and a once-over with his eyes that made her feel as though she’d just been undressed. Never mind with the little-boy appearance, she thought. She began to feel increasingly nervous when the silence stretched to a full minute.

  “What is it . . . what can I do . . . for you?” she asked hesitantly.

  He appeared to be nearly leering as he replied, “Perhaps it’s what I can do for you.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Cara decided to ignore the expression on his face.

  “Are you familiar with Robert Kerns?”

  “No, not really,” she answered. “I heard the announcement a while back that he intended to run for governor, but otherwise I don’t know the man.”

  “Let me enlighten you then,” Owens began. “Bob is a tremendous man of talent with a background in law and a reputation for aiding the little man. He’s a family man with a wife and two college-aged kids. He believes, as do I, that he would make a great governor for our fair state.”

  Russell drew a breath, and Cara utilized the moment to break in on his speech. “That sounds all very well and good, Mr. Owens, but I don’t see what it has to do with me, or with HEARTBEAT.”

  Russell nodded. “I’m sure you don’t, but that’s why I’m here. We’d like to solicit your support for our campaign.”

  “I see,” Cara said, getting to her feet. “I can assure you I have no interest in such a cooperation. My ministry is a nonprofit organization and we don’t allow ourselves to become politically involved. I’m sure you can appreciate the implications and problems that can be created. . . .”

  “And you can surely appreciate the possibility of support from the governor’s office once Kerns is elected. If you are one of the avid supporters who help to see him elected, it could mean a great deal to your business.”

  “My business, as you put it, is just that—my business.” Cara smoothed down her floral print skirt in a nervous gesture. “I have no desire to drag this ministry into an association that could suggest a political endorsement of any one person.”

  “Mrs. Kessler . . . Cara,” Russell said without asking permission, “it is very important you hear me out.” His voice seemed to drop an octave. “You’re just the kind of person we’re looking for, especially since you have political experience in your background.”

  Cara couldn’t keep the surprise from registering on her face. “How would you know what is or isn’t in my background?”

  Owens got to his feet. “I’ve taken the time to study your profile. Your father was a district representative for over eight years.”

  “So?” She was growing more agitated by the minute. How dare this man research her background!

  “You know what’s involved in running for political office. You know the schedules and the demands.”

  “Yes, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested in becoming involved in another campaign. Your Mr. Kerns may well be the very best candidate that this state has seen in years, and I still wouldn’t want to play that game again. My father endured a great deal of suffering at the hands of the state political machine. It nearly cost him his health, and I have no desire to see it cost mine.” She could feel her cheeks grow flushed.

  Russell leaned across the desk. “You’re very beautiful, even when you’re uptight.”

  Cara hadn’t believed Owens possible of more surprises, yet here he was stooping to flattery. “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “I was hoping maybe if I couldn’t interest you just yet in Kerns’ campaign, I might get you to have dinner with me.”

  Cara gave him a hard look. “I’m sorry, no.”

  Russell shrugged. “Well, that’s two strikes. I wonder if I dare brave a third time at bat.”

  “Mr. Owens, I’m very busy,” Cara stated, crossing the room to the door and opening it wide. “If you don’t mind, I need to get back to work.”

  Russell came to her and stood so close that Cara backed up a step. “Would you at least agree to meet my boss? He’s very impressed with the work you do here.”

  Cara felt her resolve crumble. It wasn’t wise to make enemies out of powerful people—her father had taught her that much from his days as a representative. Perhaps if she met this man face-to-face, she could explain why she had no interest in politics.

  “I suppose I could meet with Mr. Kerns for a short while.”

  “You won’t be sorry,” Russell replied. “I’ll arrange the meeting and get back with you.”

  “Very well.”

  Cara watched him leave. She had a strange sense of foreboding, but knew it was probably just the way he’d started to come on to her. She wasn’t used to men paying her such open attention.

  Going back to her desk, Cara couldn’t help but think of her chance encounter with Harry Oberlin.

  “What a contrast,” she murmured, thinking of the two men. Then her thoughts drifted to Jack.

  Cara had often thought the pain of his death would never go away, but she had to admit she’d not really thought about Jack as often as before. It was just those early morning hours, when she had time to linger in bed, that the loneliness seemed to grip her afresh.

  She picked up one of the framed photos on her desk. It was a family picture taken only weeks before Jack had died. Brianna shared so many of her father’s features. She had his mouth and nose, and where Cara’s features were more delicate and elfish, Brianna’s and Jack’s were rugged and boldly pronounced.

  “I’m not doing you any favors, Bri,” she said to her daughter’s five-year-old image. “I’ve immersed myself too long in Jack and the memories we shared.”

  They had barely lived in Topeka for two months before the accident, and since that tragic day, Cara had changed relatively little in their lives. They lived in the same apartment Jack had chosen for them, and even the furniture was positioned just as he’d arranged it. She remembered with regret her reaction when Brianna had suggested they move to an apartment complex with a swimming pool. Bri couldn’t understand her mother’s reluctance to give up the last place she’d shared with Jack.

  I’ve been stuck in the past, Cara admitted to herself. Somehow, meeting up with Melissa had allowed these thoughts to surface. Perhaps they were helped along by finding herself the focus of attraction by two very different men.

  “Maybe it is time for a change.” She traced Jack’s outline with her finger. “I will always love you, and there will always be a part of me that belongs only to you. But I know it’s wrong to live in the past.” Tears came to her eyes and blurred the photo. Letting go was so much more than words and symbolic gestures.

  Putting the picture in her drawer, Cara grabbed a tissue and wiped her face. So much wasted time, she thought. Time I could have given Brianna. Time I could have spent among the living instead of the dead. With new resolve, she picked up her Bible and found confirmation of her decision in the words of Philippians. “But one thing I do. 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.”

  “God, give me strength,” she whispered. “Give me the ability to put aside the past and reach forward. Let me make a new start with my life, with Brianna—even with my work for You.”

  “Hey, Cara, you okay?”

  She looked up to find Joe Milken peering into her office. She hadn’t even heard him open the door. The sandy-haired youth pastor had an infectious s
mile and a perpetual tan that gave him the appearance of living outdoors year-round. Today he looked like a lumberjack in his red-and-black flannel shirt and blue jeans. Stepping into her office, Joe’s rugged face held nothing but concern for her.

  “Is something wrong?” he questioned. “You’re crying.”

  “I’m just saying good-bye,” she replied, trying hard to smile.

  “Good-bye?” His voice held a note of concern. “To HEARTBEAT?”

  “No, of course not. I’ve just been dealing with my fixation on the past. I know you understand, because you’ve been after me for a long time to make certain changes and do things differently. I’ve always held you up to Jack’s standards, just as I’ve always held myself up to them. But . . .” She fell silent for a moment and gathered her strength. “Jack is gone and time marches forward instead of marching in place. I want you to put those ideas of yours on paper. We’ll go over them together and see where they lead us. Are you game?”

  Joe’s expression was one of relief and satisfaction. “What in the world brought about this change?”

  Cara grew thoughtful. “Little things. Brianna would mention doing something or buying something, and I’d find myself wondering what Jack would want. She also says things about wishing she had a daddy,” Cara remembered in a wave of guilt. “Then there’s my childhood friend from Hays, Melissa Jordon.”

  “Is she the one who wanted to write about HEARTBEAT?”

  “Yes. Well, she got me to thinking. I mean, I listened to her talk about her life and where she’d gone with it in the last ten years. The last time we’d seen each other was at Jack’s funeral, and I realized how much I’d closed myself away from the rest of the world. So little has changed for me since his death. HEARTBEAT and Brianna have been my entire domain and nothing else has existed.”

  Joe nodded. “And what about now?”

  “Now we start fresh and new. I leave Jack with God and delegate my mourning period to the past.”

  Joe crossed the room. “May I be the first to welcome you back.” He extended his arm and Cara surprised herself by getting up and hugging him.

  “You’ve been a dear friend, Joe. You and Suzanne both have been so patient with me,” Cara said, mentioning Joe’s wife. “This ministry would have folded if I’d been left to my own devices. I’m glad God gave me the sense to bring you on board.”

  Joe gave her a brotherly pat on the back. “I’m just glad you are ready to take a fresh look at your life.”

  Cara’s gaze drifted down to the drawer where Jack’s image now resided. “I wonder why now, Joe? Why all of the sudden, after all this time?”

  Joe held her at arm’s length. “Because now is the right time. My guess is there’s something important coming your way, and God is preparing you by taking care of old business first.”

  “I suppose I can see the logic in that,” Cara admitted.

  “Just don’t be surprised when things start to happen.”

  For reasons beyond her understanding, Cara remembered the sense of foreboding she’d felt earlier. Maybe things were already starting to happen.

  Nine

  By Friday, Cara and Brianna had both exhausted themselves making new plans for their lives. With Brianna’s desire to move to an apartment with a pool, Cara had made some calls and had managed to secure a three-bedroom townhouse in a complex called Misty Glen.

  She and Brianna had immediately set out arranging each of the townhouse rooms on graph paper. Cara had never seen Brianna happier, and it gave her cause to pay closer attention to the child’s emotional well-being. Cara could tell her daughter was thrilled at the new sense of purpose and direction in their lives. Years of mausoleum-like living had stifled her daughter’s imagination and free spirit, but planning for their new home seemed to open them both up to life again.

  Checking on the sleeping child, Cara stood for several minutes and watched Brianna’s even breathing. Long hair wound its way around her angelic face and Cara reached out to smooth it back with a smile. Silently, she thanked God for giving her Brianna and for helping her to recognize her child’s needs before it was too late.

  A ringing telephone drew Cara’s thoughts away from prayer. Who could be calling at this hour? she wondered, quickly closing Brianna’s door behind her. She reached the phone in her bedroom but found no one on the line.

  “Hello?” she repeated before hearing the distinct click that signaled disconnection.

  Deciding it must have been a wrong number, Cara shrugged off her clothes and pulled on pajamas and a robe. There was still time to look over some paper work before she went to bed, so Cara made her way to the dining room and spread out her work on the table.

  She’d barely read through the first page when a knock sounded on her door. Another glance at her watch revealed that it was nearly ten o’clock. Immediately thinking of her elderly next-door neighbor, Cara opened the door expecting to see Mrs. Pritchard.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Kessler.” It was Russell Owens. Beside him stood a very distinguished-looking man.

  Cara stared at them in open-mouthed surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “You agreed to meet with Mr. Kerns, and I thought perhaps your home would afford us an element of privacy,” Owens answered.

  Kerns waited no longer for his introduction. “I’m Bob Kerns, the next governor of Kansas.”

  He smiled in a way that immediately put Cara on her guard.

  “May we come in?” Bob asked smoothly.

  “Certainly not!” Cara exclaimed and pulled her robe together tightly. “It’s after ten. Surely we can have this discussion in my office on Monday.”

  “It won’t wait,” said Kerns, pushing Cara aside to admit himself into the apartment.

  “You can’t just barge in here!”

  Kerns eyed her for a moment, then shook his head and replied, “Calm down and hear me out. What I have to say could be quite profitable to you and your business.”

  By this time Russell had come into the apartment behind her and was quietly closing the door. Cara whirled around at the sound of the lock sliding into place. Her fears mounted with every second as she looked first at Owens and then to Kerns.

  “This is uncalled for. Get out of my apartment.” She tried hard to appear authoritative, but her voice sounded childlike even in her own ears.

  “Calm down, Cara,” Russell said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

  Cara shuddered and pushed him away with her elbows. “Don’t ever touch me again.” Her voice held new power, and Russell backed away with his arms raised.

  “Easy does it. I didn’t mean anything by it. We aren’t exactly the neighborhood boogeymen, you know.”

  Kerns chuckled. “I believe we’ve just taken this young woman off guard. Cara, why don’t you come sit down and we’ll tell you why we’re here.”

  She realized they weren’t going anywhere until she heard them out. “Very well, but I need to change my clothes first. Wait here.”

  Hurrying to her bedroom, Cara went immediately to the telephone. She started to dial 911, then put the receiver down. Robert Kerns was a gubernatorial candidate. She recognized him from numerous television interviews. Surely he was on the up and up. She drew a deep breath. There was really no reason to be afraid or to call the police. Was there?

  Biting her lower lip, Cara hurried into a lavender sweat suit. She resented the way Owens and Kerns pushed her around, but perhaps she could get this over with and be rid of both of them for good.

  She walked slowly back to the living room and assumed a defensive posture. Kerns and Owens looked up at her from where they sat on the sofa. Both were perfectly attired in business suits and striped red-and-blue ties. And both looked at her with the same self-satisfied smug expression.

  Cara switched to the offensive. “If you’re comfortable, I’d appreciate it if you would tell me what merits coming here in the middle of the night.” She held a stony stare on Kerns, hoping the man would grow uncomfortable and
apologetic. He didn’t. Instead, he seemed only amused and smiled broadly, looking too much like a Cheshire cat.

  “Please,” Kerns motioned, “have a seat with us and we’ll explain.”

  Cara noted the ease in which he commanded the situation. His square jaw was firmly set and the smile was frozen on his face, but it was eyes the color of steel that held her attention most. They were cold, lifeless, shark’s eyes. Cara could see that Robert Kerns was the one in charge, and in that moment of revelation she could also see that he knew it as well.

  Almost against her will, Cara sank into the nearest chair. “All right, I’m sitting. What is it that couldn’t wait until Monday?”

  Owens and Kerns exchanged a brief look of satisfaction before Kerns turned back to Cara. “As you know, I’m running for governor.”

  “Yes, both of you’ve made that abundantly clear,” she replied dryly. “And you want the support of HEARTBEAT.”

  “In a way,” Kerns said in a slow hypnotic manner. “In a way. You see, I’m very impressed with the work you’ve done in that organization. You have a great deal to offer this state, including a dynamic personality that will automatically draw people to you.”

  “I don’t see why this has anything—” Cara began, but Kerns quickly silenced her.

  “If you’ll give me a chance to speak, I’ll tell you what it has to do with you.”

  Cara crossed her arms against her chest and waited in obvious irritation.

  “That’s better,” Kerns replied.

  His manner and tone suggested he was a parent dealing with a child rather than a grown woman. His entire demeanor made Cara angry. How dare he come into her house late in the night and order her around! Cara had never felt so helpless, and without even realizing what she was doing, she found herself praying for God’s protection.

  “. . . and that’s why I want you to be my running mate.”

  Cara suddenly realized she hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” There was no way he could have said what she’d heard.

  Kerns’ eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “We will be here all night if I am to repeat everything I say. This is a matter of utmost importance, and I’d appreciate it if you would give me your undivided attention.”