Forbidden Falls (Virgin River #9)(54)

“How long?”

“I was a student forever, Ellie. I have two undergrad degrees and two master’s.”

“Wow. And I didn’t even finish high school. Well, I got my GED later. So when did you get there? As you put it.”

He chewed thoughtfully. “This really is good popcorn. I could eat this for dinner.”

“Don’t get distracted, Noah,” she said. “When did you discover you were going to be a minister?”

“Oh, that. I was going to teach and counsel and study. Maybe get a Ph.D. in clinical psychology. I like counseling—at least some kinds. But all along I’d been doing some community service and I realized I was happiest when I was just being a good neighbor. When I was helping out, lending a hand, you know. And a minister’s role is complicated, but a lot of it is helping out, acting as spiritual support. It’s like a relay race, Ellie. The baton is filled with faith and knowledge and good works—like community service, food for the hungry, food for the soul, and as it’s passed to me, I can run with it to the next person, who can run with it to—” He stopped to laugh and shake his head. “That’s the part I gravitated to. I have a mentor professor, George. I landed in the seminary because he couldn’t stay out of my business and convinced me it would make me happy.”

“So you just went along with his idea?” she asked.

“Not really. It was more than that.”

“Well, for Pete’s sake,” she said, annoyed. “What more?”

He thought for a minute, chewing his popcorn. “It was about God,” he said. “Whenever I called out to him, he answered. Wasn’t always the answer I wanted, but there was always an answer. I ignored that as long as I could.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Now, that’s a good enough reason,” she said. Then she took one of his hands and pulled it toward her. “But these are not the hands of a preacher.” She ran her fingers over the calluses on his palms and fingers, then a long fingernail over a couple of thin scars on his forearm. “How did you get so rough? So messed up?”

“I worked on the docks and on fishing boats and markets in Seattle from the time I was eighteen till I went into the seminary a few years ago. I worked my way through college that way, I wanted to get as far away from my father and his lifestyle as I could. I got most of these scars the first year or two. It was tough, physical work.” He grinned. “I loved it, but I wasn’t born into it like a lot of the men I worked with. It took me a while to learn, and I got hooked, grappled, cut and scraped a lot.”

“Then why aren’t you still there?”

He shrugged. “It was time to move on. Past time—I’m thirty-five.”

She ate more popcorn. Then she thoughtfully said, “You can stop being ashamed of growing up rich now.” When he looked at her in shocked surprise, she said, “If I’m not ashamed of growing up poor, why should you be ashamed of growing up rich? I think it’s kind of cool. You shouldn’t let that hold you back.” And then she smiled at him.

“Let me ask you something,” he said. “Were you lonely growing up?”

“Growing up? Oh, hell no. I probably had too many friends. Of course, they were mostly friends in the same boat as me—not a dime to spare, not going anyplace, couldn’t even stay in school. But between my gramma and friends, I got by fine. Later, after I was a single mom with two jobs and my gramma gone, I was lonely all the time, but I was almost never alone. Growing up, I had friends. I always envied the girls who had good grades, cool clothes, went to lots of parties and stuff, but I wasn’t ever lonely.”

“Didn’t all those friends of yours have parties?”

She smiled blandly. “No, Noah. We hung out. Usually around a convenience store with a big parking lot.”

“You couldn’t get good grades?” he asked.

“Well, sometimes I did okay, but I’ve had at least one job at a time since I was fourteen. Full-time babysitting, housecleaning, waitressing, you name it. I worked when I was pregnant and I worked when the babies were small and my gramma watched them. Until she died. But I’ve always worked—from right after school till late at night and then on weekends. There wasn’t a lot of time to hit the books, know what I mean?”

He did know, but the difference was, he hadn’t been the mother of two children when he’d been working and studying. “Ellie, you’re smart,” he said. “You’re intuitive. You have common sense. I think you could do anything.”

She laughed at him. “I have done anything, remember?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, grinning back. “And now you’re working for a church. God must be shaking in his boots.”

“No doubt.”

“Listen, I’d better get going. I’ll see you in the morning.” He stood up. “So, can I come with you and the kids on Saturday?”

“I’ll think about it. But you have to promise to behave.”

“Thanks. That’ll give me something to look forward to.”

He stood in the open door and she held it a moment. “Noah? When did you stop having a relationship with your father?”

“Oh, jeez,” he said, dropping his chin. “We haven’t gotten along since I was a kid. He was continually disappointed in me.”