CHAPTER.

11.

Jill would not allow herself to think what might happen if Morgan's stem cells didn't match. As she sat on the flight, buffeted and jostled by the wind, she imagined Kelsey getting stronger, Morgan's marrow fighting the disease inside her. It would all be worth it. God would not have sent her otherwise. He was not fickle. His love was everlasting. She knew that, even if she couldn't capture the surety just then in her heart. She didn't have to feel it to believe. She had maintained that position for years.

If it was feelings she sought, they were there in plenty. Too many. In his casual designer shorts and seersucker shirt, Morgan had looked as good as he did the other night. And he'd certainly not been dressed to impress anyone this time. The white retro Thunderbird outside the house had to be his. And she had noted the Dell laptop on the table. What was she doing crashing into his life when he'd obviously done so well with it?

She stared out through the oval Plexiglas at the sun setting beneath her. It was for Kelsey-regardless of the feelings that had threatened to make it personal. What attraction there was between them was fatal. No one could bridge so much pain and betrayal. At least Morgan had made it clear he never wanted to see her again. A spark of defensive anger rose inside her. They were agreed on that.

After landing, she collected her overnight bag and drove home.

The message light flashed on her phone. Lethargically she pressed the button. Her mother's voice: Jill, I didn't hear back from you. Everything all right? Call me, dear. Then Cinda: Jill, this is Cinda. Could you give me a call at your convenience? Thanks. She rattled off the number, and Jill noted the nervousness in her tone. She must have agonized over whether it had worked out with Morgan.

Rascal plastered himself against her leg as Jill picked up the phone. Cinda first. "Hello, this is Jill."

"Oh, Jill. Thanks for calling. How did it go?"

Jill leaned on the counter. "I found Morgan and he'll have the blood test."

"Praise God! Jill, I can't thank you enough. How was it?"

"He wants to see Kelsey."

A long pause. "What did you tell him?"

Jill repeated what she had explained, at Cinda's request, that it would be too stressful for Kelsey. If the stress still surging inside Jill was any indication, Cinda was right.

Cinda spoke flatly. "It isn't the same as with you. We had ... some connection. You delivered Kelsey. You gave us our daughter. He ...Jill, I appreciate what he's doing, but ... Kelsey's confused enough. If she has to try to conjure feelings for a stranger and ..."

Cinda had already expressed all that when Jill raised the possibility of Morgan as a donor. She assumed the message was intended for her, as well. "I understand." She'd seen Kelsey's spunk but also her vulnerability. As Morgan was now, he could say and do things that ... hurt. Kelsey had to be protected.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine." Nothing in her voice betrayed how very un-fine she was "I'm relieved he agreed. I guess we wait to hear." She threaded her fingers into her hair.

"Yes. Too much waiting. Like Jesus on the Mount of Olives." Cinda sighed.

Jill scratched under Rascal's chin as he stretched himself up to her lower thigh, demanding recognition. "Did you tell Kelsey about Morgan?"

"Only that there's another potential match."

"I guess that's best." Jill heard Morgan again, saying he wanted to see his daughter. He meant it, but he didn't understand. Did she? She tried to see it from Morgan's side. She was asking so much and giving nothing. How could she begin to make up for the hurt? Morgan would understand-once he was over the shock and thinking clearly. At least his fury was only for her and not his daughter.

"On the other hand, and I know this sounds inconsistent," Cinda paused, "but Kelsey would like to see you again."

Jill's throat tightened. Why would Kelsey ask that? They could explain her first trip easily enough, donor-recipient connection. But she was no longer the donor. Another visit, when there was no longer a medical connection, when she didn't match? What would she say? How could she carry out the charade? And didn't it violate what Cinda had just said? Keeping it simple for Kelsey surely didn't include another visit.

"I explained that she couldn't expect you to come again. But she insisted I ask."

Jill pressed her hand to her eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

The silence lingered, then, "To be honest, it's not what I wanted. But I don't have the heart to deny something she wants so much. I certainly understand if you can't come, especially now that there isn't a match."

"You have to know that if Kelsey's asking, I can't say no."

"I didn't think so." There was a smile in her voice. She understood Kelsey's magnetism.

They worked out a time on Wednesday between Kelsey's maintenance chemotherapy and after Jill had finished tutoring her students. Then she hung up and stared at the floor. Had she been disloyal to Morgan? Should she have urged Cinda to reconsider? How selfish was it to see Kelsey herself, then side against him for the very same?

It wasn't her decision. Quickly she punched in the speed-dial code for her mother. A rush of relief when she got the answering machine. "Mom, everything's fine. Hope all's well with you and Dad. Talk to you later."

God was merciful. She scooped up Rascal, and he curled his paws around her neck. She snuggled her face into the fur beneath his head, letting his purr vibrate her cheekbone. Then when he had established his ownership, he wiggled out of her arms and jumped to the floor.

Just as well. She had little to give in the wake of emotional overload. The phone rang. She picked it up. "Hi, Shelly."

"I saw your light."

"Um-hmm."

"Can I bring you some brownies?"

Jill smiled. "Brownies are definitely what I need." Even if it meant she'd relive the day for Shelly. Maybe talking about it would give her some perspective. Shelly was always good for perspective.

The knock came while Jill was halfway into her nightshirt. Shelly called from the kitchen. "Dr. Brownie's here."

Jill tugged down the nightshirt and met Shelly in the kitchen. "I had to change. I might fall asleep at any moment."

"Not until I've heard it all."

Jill reached for a papery-topped gooey brownie. No one made them like Shelly.

"Milk?"

Jill nodded. "Sure."

Shelly poured them each a glass. Jill took the plate into the living room and sat in the giraffe chair. Shelly curled her legs up on the couch, setting the two glasses of milk on the corner table between them. "So tell me."

Jill bit into her brownie and chewed the bittersweet confection. "Not until I'm fortified." She followed the brownie with a long chug of milk. Was there anything so good? In spurts and rushes she told Shelly about Morgan, how he'd been that day, and how he'd been at the reunion, and how he'd been before. She shook her head. "I feel like I've ruined his life."

Shelly was actually quiet. She pressed a brownie crumb up from her knee and said, "Does Dan know you're in love with Morgan?"

Jill stared at her. "Shelly, that's not what I said."

Shelly met her gaze. "Yes, it is."

Jill shook her head. "I admit he's entangled in my psyche, especially at the bad points, but ... he's not the person I knew. I've grown past him." When he didn't come for her, when she put their baby into a stranger's arms.

"That's the real reason you and Dan didn't get anywhere. Not a difference of beliefs or-"

"That's not true." Jill clenched her fist. "Morgan hates me. And it's just as well."

Shelly sank back on the couch. "You are so blind."

Jill said nothing. This was not the perspective she wanted. Shelly was wrong. "I went to Morgan because Kelsey needs him." Cinda's phone call niggled. Why did Kelsey want to see her? "Don't read more into it than there is."

Shelly rolled her eyes. "You're the religious one here. Why do you think all this is happening?"

"To save Kelsey."

Shelly hunched forward. "Then God could have used you."

"Maybe ... maybe He wanted Morgan to know; maybe it's for Morgan, too."

"But not for you. God doesn't care about you."

Jill huffed out her breath. "Of course God cares. Jesus died for me. I wish you understood that. It's more than I deserve, more than I can ever repay. But I don't have to. It's His free gift of salvation."

"So after this life you can be happy."

It sounded so wrong, yet how could she refute it? Shelly knew she wasn't happy. "It's just all the stress. When Kelsey's better, when it's all over ..."

"What? You and Rascal will grow old together?"

"You're married, Shelly. You don't understand that some people can be alone and be happy, complete, satisfied. Especially if they know and love Jesus as I do." It was true. If she could ever love Christ as completely as He loved her, she would need nothing more. And marriage to someone like Dan, who didn't share her beliefs, was worse than being alone.

But marriage to Morgan, who also didn't share her beliefs? That was a treacherous thought, one that had once filled her waking and dreaming moments. She had forsaken what she knew was right because his kisses were more potent than her faith. If she loved him still, it was God's punishment for her making Morgan an idol.

"Shelly, it breaks my heart that you and Brett don't know the Lord."

Shelly spread her hands. "Frankly, I don't see the benefit."

Jill dropped her chin. That was her fault. She was a dreadful witness. But Shelly knew her too well. She could hardly pretend to be rapturous. "I couldn't face this without Him."

Shelly sighed. "What if it's not about facing it? What if you're supposed to do something?"

Jill collapsed in the chair. "What else can I do? It's out of my hands."

"And in God's?"

"Yes, Shelly." Jill willed her to believe it.

"Well, sorry if I think that's a cop-out. Brett's arrested too many kooks who think God ordained their crimes. If He's such a good God, so all-powerful, why is there so much misery?"

"Because the world is messed up."

"So save the planet?"

Jill tossed a chunk of brownie at her. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Well, from my point of view, those of you who believe are not in any better position than those of us who don't. If Dan had seen it differently, he'd have been born again and married you."

It stabbed. Had her lack of joy poisoned Dan, as well? She thought of the good times they'd had together, then the discussions. She'd maintained the party line, but had the truth of it ever come through? Had she ever demonstrated a radiant faith?

"Sorry, Jill. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's true." Jill closed her eyes against the sting of tears. She could talk, but had she ever lived her faith? Maybe with the children she taught. Maybe there.

"Dan will not be happy I told you what he said."

"It doesn't matter."

Shelly reached over and grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry."

Jill smiled. "You may not believe it, but you make a terrifying prophet."

Shelly scrunched up her brow. "Will I be struck by lightning?"

"No, but I might if I don't take what you said t? heart." Jill squeezed Shelly's hand. "I want you to see the joy of serving God, the hope, the peace."

"Well, if you can accomplish that with all this going on, then I'll believe there's something to it."

Jill drew a deep breath. No matter what lay ahead, her trust had to be real. Her friends knew her too well to buy a false gaiety. "I have to sleep now. I'm worn out."

"I'll leave you the brownies."

After Shelly left, Jill took out her Bible and the concordance that went with it. Using the two, she would read every "joy" entry in the Bible. If she focused on that, would it fill the hollow of her heart?

Morgan heard the strains of Rick's guitar when he walked in, saw his brother perched on the hearth. Noelle was curled up on the couch, listening with a look so enraptured it hurt. Her expression changed to one of concern when she saw him. He hated that. Why couldn't he burn all by himself?

Rick set the guitar in its case. "How're you doing?"

"Sober."

Rick nodded. "I could tell."

Morgan sat down in the corner chair. He settled back, the immensity of his situation pressing him down, the unfathomed revelation still unreal to his mind even when he spoke it aloud. "I've got a fourteen year-old daughter." Maybe, Bern's doubts whispered, but the truth shouted louder.

Rick set the guitar aside. "I guess we misjudged Jill. It must have taken a lot for her to stand her ground."