pull the security tapes from your store,” he said, pausing in midstride. “That should give us a picture of the customer who bought the doll.”
Ruthie slumped in her chair. “That’s a great idea, but unfortunately, Abundance doesn’t have a security camera.” At the pained look on Gray’s face, she quickly added, “Yet,” but it was Pop who decided to belabor the point.
“You should have a camera in the store. And an alarm system connected to a dispatcher.” He leaned toward her, concern underscoring his words. “I meant to tell you this earlier—there was a report on News at Noon today about a prowler on Strawberry Street. I want you and your friends to be protected in case someone should take a notion to break in.”
“Strawberry Street is a good distance away, so I’m sure we won’t have to worry about that person bothering the shop.” The reports of someone lurking around homes and small stores had actually been closer to the house on Floyd Avenue that she still rented from the Bristows, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “Even so, I’ll mention to Savannah and Paisley that we should beef up our security.”
An idea occurred to her.
“Maybe Restore My Sole or one of the other shops near Abundance has a surveillance video of the parking lot. We might be able to get an image of the customer or, better yet, the number from her license plate.”
“If she drove,” Gray pointed out.
He was right. Many of their customers came from nearby residential areas such as Ellwood Avenue, which ran parallel to Cary Street behind their shop and was within easy walking distance. Or they were local employees who strolled over during their breaks or after work.
“I’ll come by tomorrow after work to check out any videos your neighbors may have.” He paused as if considering what he was about to say next. “And I’ll do a walk-through of Abundance to determine what kind of security system will work best for your setup.”
A lot had changed between them, but the one thing that remained the same about Gray was his fierce protectiveness. They might not be a couple anymore, but she knew that wouldn’t stop him from doing everything in his power to keep her safe.
“You really don’t need to go to the trouble,” she assured him. “I’m sure we’ll be fine until I make an appointment for someone to install an alarm.”
Gray’s engineering degree had been put to use securing facilities and equipment during his time in the army. Since his return home, he’d parlayed that experience into a thriving business designing and installing security systems for businesses and government offices. Asking him to outfit her little shop with a security camera and alarm would be like using a howitzer to kill a fly.
He ripped the list off the pad of paper and stuffed it in her hand. She moved to pull away, but he held her in his grip.
“Don’t delay,” he warned. “Wishing and hoping are not enough to keep you safe.”
Once again, his protective side was showing. The odds of the prowler making an unwanted appearance at the Abundance shops were slim, but when Gray was in defender mode, arguing with him was pointless.
And though he didn’t say it, his meaning came through loud and clear.
Prayers aren’t enough, either.
* * *
That night in bed, Ruthie’s prayers weren’t enough to take her thoughts off Gray and his steadfast resistance to all things related to faith and the Bible. Like a cold-case investigator who keeps searching for clues in years-old evidence, she reached into her nightstand drawer and withdrew the letter that he’d sent her from Afghanistan. The paper, now tattered, held a place in her Bible in the book of Ruth.
That Wednesday night at church, she’d been excited when Sobo had handed her the old-fashioned letter from her sweetheart and her family and friends had watched expectantly as she’d read it. Something had felt wrong in the first sentence when he’d told her, “I’m sending this letter by way of my grandparents so you won’t be alone when you read what I have to say.”
Even now, four years later, a rock still formed in the pit of her stomach whenever she read those troubling words. But just as she had done back then, she forced herself to continue.
Something happened that has caused me to question my beliefs. I won’t burden you by sharing the things I’ve seen, but suffice it to say that God—if there is such a being—let me down when I needed Him most. While I’ve been wrestling with this bad blow over the past few months, you’ve been steadfastly sending encouraging letters and emails. You must have sensed I was going through a tough time, so you tried to cheer me up and urged me to lean on God. I love you, and I loved receiving each and every one of your notes, but they only served to illustrate how far apart we’ve grown.
She teared up at the knowledge that whatever had caused Gray to lose his faith was something he would not—perhaps could not—discuss with her or anyone else. Pop, a veteran of the Korean War, had urged her to give Gray time. Give him time to sort through the unspeakable experiences he’d endured.
But how much time would it take? For his sake, she prayed he would find answers to the questions that troubled him.
She forced herself to read that paragraph again, knowing the answer to Gray’s trouble lay in his belief that God had abandoned him at a time when he needed Him most.
Just as it had done that fateful night, the sound of blood pounded in her ears, nearly deafening her, and she became aware that her breathing was fast and shallow. Steeling herself to the pain that still stabbed every time she read his words, she sucked in a deep breath and blinked back the moisture that clouded her vision.
Although I’m not sure how I feel about God right now, I do believe there’s something to the warning in the Bible about being yoked together with unbelievers. I love you and know how much you love the Lord, but I can’t pretend to believe so I can be with you. It’s not fair to either of us.
Like a passerby at a horrible traffic accident, all she could do was continue to stare at the page in front of her and read what came next.
It may hurt now, and believe me when I say it hurts me more than I can express, but it’s best for both of us if I release you from our engagement so you can find someone else. Someone whose faith is as strong as your own.
You’re a good person, Ruthie, and you deserve someone who won’t hold you back. I’ll understand if you hate me for this, but I will always care for you, even though we can’t be together. I wish you much love and happiness.
Gray
A fist clenched around Ruthie’s throat, and once again the room threatened to close in on her. She refolded the letter and returned it to the drawer, as if that simple action might take away the fresh pain that hit her every time she read it.
Hate was something she could never feel for Gray. Anguish, confusion, yes. Although she didn’t fully comprehend the reason behind his change of heart, she’d never doubted his motives to do what he considered best for both of them.
Too numb to cry again, she leaned back against the pillow and pressed her hands to her forehead. Because of her faith, she had lost favor with Gray—the man she’d believed, and still did believe, that God intended for her.
With the Bible resting on her lap, she returned the letter to mark the pages of the book of Ruth.
“Please bring him back, Lord,” she said. “To You and to me.”
* * *
The following evening after the shops closed, Gray pocketed the parking lot surveillance tape he’d collected from the neighboring classic-auto supply store and walked through the Abundance building to search for possible security problems. His civilian career involved planning high-end security systems for large businesses and government agencies, which might have been the reason Ruthie had tried to decline