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  “And I understand Helen is going to be singing a little longer this evening,” her mother said to Jace. “To fill in for the speaker who cancelled.”

  Jace nodded, and wiped his mouth with a napkin, then laid it on his plate. “We’ve been pretty blessed that she was able to do this. But it was thanks to Dodie’s connections that we were able to get her at all.” He shot her a sidelong glance, and for a moment she couldn’t look away, pleased at his acknowledgment of her involvement.

  “I didn’t know that,” Tilly responded, her incredulous tone almost, but not quite, wounding Dodie.

  Because it was balanced out by Jace’s approbation of her.

  She looked away though. Nothing had changed. What he had given her was a kind of parting gift. He was still leaving.

  Her heart contracted at the thought.

  For a few wonderful moments she had envisioned them together. Side by side. But the dream was over and reality had taken its place.

  Jace’s dreams of working with Carson MacGregor left no room for her. Or for Riverbend.

  The conversation drifted along, covering local politics, a new business starting in Riverbend and a myriad of other topics that Dodie had a hard time concentrating on. She was far too aware of Jace sitting so close, yet so far out of reach.

  The dinner was followed by a PowerPoint presentation talking about the center. As soon as it was done and the lights came up, Dodie got up.

  “I’d better see how Helen is doing,” she said, grateful for the excuse to leave.

  Dodie walked to the front of the arena and ducked behind the curtains. Backstage, Helen stood to one side, adorned in a simple off-white dress spangled with sequins, a silky orange shawl draped over her shoulders. She wore her hair loose.

  Her hands were twined around each other.

  “How are you doing?” Dodie asked.

  Helen blew out a sigh. “I’m okay. I guess.”

  Dodie frowned, noticing Helen’s wan look.

  “Just a bit of preperformance jitters,” Paul said, standing beside her, rubbing his wife’s back.

  Dodie had had to look twice at Paul. The leather blazer over the open-necked shirt and new blue jeans was surprise enough. But his shining cheeks and neatly groomed hair gave him a dapper air that made Dodie realize what Helen had seen in the man in the first place.

  “You’re going to do great,” Dodie said soothingly, trying to ease Helen’s nerves.

  A bank of curtains put up for this occasion, hid Helen from the audience. Beyond the curtains Dodie heard Randy. He had moved onto the next part of the program and was giving more information about the center and how the funds from tonight would be used.

  “You sure you’re going to be okay?” Paul whispered to Helen, looking a bit nervous himself. Helen nodded, but Dodie saw the concern in his eyes as he hovered close to his wife.

  “I’ll be okay. Just give me a few minutes,” Helen said, smoothing her palms down the sides of her dress.

  “Okay. There’s my cue. I’ll go warm up the crowd a bit. I’m leaving her in your capable hands.” Paul patted Dodie on the shoulder.

  Paul gave Helen a quick kiss, caught his guitar by the neck and disappeared through the curtains onto the stage.

  The lights dimmed and soon his mellow voice filled the auditorium.

  Helen drew in a long, slow breath as she shook her head, her golden hair spilling down her back. She gave Dodie a pensive smile. “You know this is the first time I’ve performed since…” Her voice faded off.

  As their eyes held, Dodie felt a sudden jolt of awareness. She recalled how Helen had hinted that she had struggled with feelings of inadequacy and self-worth before she met Paul.

  “Since what?” she coaxed gently, hoping Helen would confide in her.

  Helen paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “That night when you came over…” Her voice drifted off again as she looked back at the stage. “I had a feeling, just a vague idea, that you knew what I’ve had to deal with.”

  Dodie thought of the songs she had been listening to the evening of her and Jace’s fight. She thought of the connection she felt with the words of loss and pain Helen had sung.

  “What do you mean?”

  Helen held her gaze as if in challenge. She drew in another breath, as if readying herself. “I mean that my life was torn apart by a man who assaulted me. A man who raped me.”

  Dodie reached behind her to steady herself as her world spun around. She turned away from Helen’s steady gaze. “I…I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  Helen’s voice softened with pity. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

  Dodie wavered on the edge of confession, but old habits were hard to break.

  “Tell them what?”

  Helen sighed, then touched Dodie lightly on the shoulder. “You don’t need to carry this alone, you know. God is always there to help you carry your griefs, your sorrows, your loss. But so is your family. Your friends.”

  Dodie swallowed down a knot of pain and sorrow. She glanced through the curtain at Paul, then at Helen.

  “You have someone,” Dodie said quietly. “Someone who understands you, who feels the same way you do. Someone who shares your values and dreams.”

  Helen tilted her head then touched Dodie gently on the cheek. “You do, too. I know Jace cares deeply for you.”

  “Jace cares more for his job. He has his own dreams. After tonight, he’s gone,” Dodie said.

  “Then maybe you should give him a reason to stay.”

  “And what reason would that be?”

  “That you care for him. And I think he needs to know what you’ve had to deal with,” Helen urged.

  Dodie thought of the burden she carried and wondered if she ever could put it on Jace’s shoulders. Wondered if he would understand. If he would even believe her if she told him who the perpetrator was.

  Dodie glanced over her shoulder to the opening in the curtains leading to the stage. She saw Paul, sitting on a stool, still singing and just beyond him, his face lit by the soft glow of the candles on their table, she saw Jace. He was looking in her direction and for a moment she felt a connection.

  Could she tell him?

  Dodie turned away, the doubts and fears that she had carefully hidden away all these years, awash in her mind.

  “We hide because we’re ashamed,” Helen said, her words striking a chord. “Even though it’s not our fault, we still hide, and we hurt and we don’t tell anyone. I think if I was more honest, more open, I would have gotten help sooner.” Helen laid a light hand on Dodie’s shoulder. “People want to help and they want to understand. Like I said, you don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

  Dodie faced her, a faint spark of hope igniting in her. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “Of course you are. So was I. But you have family and community.” She paused. “And now, I have a set to perform—and you should get back to that very handsome man who, I think, cares for you more than you realize.”

  Dodie stood rooted in place, wishing fervently that she could share Helen’s confidence about a future with Jace.

  Dodie wished she was more confident about that.

  Paul finished up the song and was greeted with a warm burst of applause, then Randy came to the microphone again. He thanked Paul and told a couple of jokes that received polite laughter.

  Paul came backstage and glanced from Helen to Dodie, concern furrowing his brow.

  “Everything okay here?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” Helen reassured him. She gave Dodie a knowing smile, then turned to Paul, adjusted the collar of his shirt and patted him lightly on the chest. “Let’s go,” she said. Then she turned and swept onto the stage, leaving Dodie behind.

  Dodie watched as the lights caught the sparkles of Helen’s dress, bathing her in an aura of light.

  She waited a moment, trying to still the erratic beating of her heart, then she returned to her table, ignoring a puzzled look from Jace. />
  She sat back, letting Helen’s rich contralto flow over her. Her first few songs were older ones, and she invited people to sing along. She paused between songs to explain how they had come to be, what inspired her to write them and what they meant to her.

  As Helen sang and talked, Dodie felt some of the tension gripping her the past week ease away with the folksy, familiar songs and Helen’s easy way with the crowd. One would never have guessed that only a few moments ago she was as nervous and uptight as Dodie was now, sitting beside Jace.

  She just had to get through this night, Dodie thought, unable to completely block out Jace’s profile in her peripheral vision.

  In spite of Helen’s assurances, the reality was that once this evening was done, he would be gone and out of her life. Working for Carson MacGregor.

  Her throat closed off at the thought and for a frightening moment, she felt tears threaten. She swallowed, struggling to stay on top of her emotions. She couldn’t break now.

  But, in spite of herself, she stole a quick sideways glance his way and her heart pounded when she caught him looking at her.

  Their eyes clung and it seemed he was looking for something she didn’t dare give him.

  The truth.

  His gaze softened for a moment and she felt her breath catch in her throat as he raised his hand from the table, as if to touch her.

  Then Helen was speaking again and she wrenched her gaze back to the stage.

  “This next song comes from a place that I had avoided for many years in my life,” Helen was saying, settling onto the stool placed there for her benefit.

  She glanced at the lighting director and gave a quick nod.

  The arena lights were lowered and Helen, lit by the single spotlight, shone like a beacon.

  “I wrote this song out of pain and shame, never thinking I would perform it in public. But tonight, I know I have to.” Helen looked at Paul, who smiled back at her, as if encouraging her.

  And then, she looked directly at Dodie, as if challenging her.

  “When I signed my first recording contract, I thought my life was finally heading down the path I had envisioned for myself since my father bought me my first guitar. My parents had dreams and plans. And so did I. And for many years my dreams were coming true. I had success and adulation. I had money.” She looked over the audience again, in that disconcerting way of hers that seemed to see past the facade to hidden secrets. “But I didn’t know how badly things would go for me. I didn’t know how easily dreams could be shattered, torn and discarded by the actions of one person.”

  Dodie couldn’t stop the quick intake of her breath. She was going to do it, she thought. She was going to bare her soul in front of these complete strangers.

  Helen’s voice grew lower, more intimate as she related the horrific turn her life took when a man she had put her trust in, a man who had promised to take care of her, had found her alone one night.

  As she shared her story, Dodie felt as if Helen was slowly, painstakingly drawing out her own secrets, for all to see.

  She felt once again the shame of that evening. The pain. The humiliation. And then the fear.

  She wanted Helen to stop, willed the story to end. She couldn’t do this.

  She had to get out. She had to leave. It was as if the huge arena was pressing in on her, growing smaller, suffocating her.

  She pressed her hand to her chest, fighting for breath.

  Keep me safe, O God, for in You I take refuge.

  The Bible verse slipped into her mind and she clung to the comfort. She had taken refuge in God. It had taken time. And she would trust that He would help her through this.

  And then, to her utter surprise, she felt Jace’s hand resting on hers. She gave in to an impulse and curled her fingers around his.

  Just these few moments, she thought, relishing the warmth of his touch, savoring the strength of his hand. Just these few more precious moments.

  Helen finished the song, but Paul kept lightly strumming his guitar, laying down a gentle counterpoint to her spoken words.

  Helen looked around the audience, a smile playing around the edges of her lips. “After I wrote that song, I realized that the journey I was taking was one from thinking myself worthless and unworthy of success and happiness, to God showing me that my value wasn’t and isn’t in who I am to the world, but who I am to Him.”

  She pressed her hand to her heart and turned back to Paul. “And, more important, God opened my eyes to a support network I could turn to. I only wish it hadn’t taken me so long to find a community to call my own. If I had, it could have made a difference in my recovery.”

  She faced the audience again.

  “I want to challenge all of you to seek out the wounded and weary and give them rest. I received help and hope the moment I let other people into my life and into my pain. I hope this center will give other lost and hurting souls of this community an opportunity to find peace and to accept help.”

  She paused a moment and then began speaking again.

  “So in light of that, I want to sing this last song that I also wrote while living here in Riverbend. A song that is a waypoint for the journey I’m on. I hope this song might give any of you who are struggling with secret sorrow, who are struggling with shame, some hope, some scrap of dignity and courage to face your fears.”

  She began singing and Dodie felt her heart rejoice with the words. Helen’s song was an anthem of hope, of being strong by being weak enough to show hidden pain.

  And as she sang, Dodie felt herself receive courage and hope. And with Jace’s hand holding hers, she felt strength.

  The last note of Helen’s clear voice hovered in the hushed auditorium then faded away. A heavy pause, more eloquent than any applause fell on the gathering.

  And then people surged to their feet, applauding wildly.

  And as Dodie got to her feet, she knew what she had to do.

  Jace’s hand tightened on hers. “Are you okay?” He leaned closer, speaking just loud enough for her to hear.

  She turned to him and reached up and touched her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t even realized she had shed.

  “What’s wrong, Dodie?” The concern in his voice underlined her decision. She hadn’t been fair to him and she couldn’t let him leave before she bared her soul. She had kept this from him far too long.

  She was tired of hiding. Tired of running. As Helen had said, her value was in how God saw her, not what had happened to her.

  And if Jace couldn’t handle it, that was his problem, not hers.

  She turned to him. “We need to talk.”

  “Where?”

  People were still on their feet, applauding and calling for an encore. Dodie and Jace would not be noticed if they left now.

  She walked ahead of him, leading the way. She went backstage, then turned and found an exit. She wanted to be away from people, out in the open, when she finally told him everything.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The outside air was a welcome chill on Jace’s heated cheeks. The tension that had held him in a tight grip had eased as Helen performed.

  Helen had been amazing and for that he was doubly thankful. But something in Helen’s words had obviously touched Dodie.

  Now he was feeling tense again as he followed Dodie away from the arena, toward the small play-park beyond the parking lot. Her hair glimmered in the gathering dusk, and her pale green gown seemed to shine with its own ethereal light.

  When he had seen her sitting at the table, she had taken his breath away. He’d had to fight the urge to catch her by the hand, pull her away from the crowd and demand answers.

  And that worked so well for you the last time, he thought with a touch of cynicism.

  The streetlights were just flickering on as dusk settled into the sky. A faint breeze whispered through the large trees overhead as Dodie walked toward a small picnic table beside a large slide.

  She paused a moment, her hand toying with the
beads at her neckline, then she sat down.

  Jace wanted to maintain the advantage by standing. “You said we have to talk,” he said, towering above her. “Why don’t you start?”

  Dodie folded her hands on her lap, not looking at him, her gaze focused on something just beyond him. She didn’t say anything right away but Jace knew that sooner or later she would fill the silence.

  “Remember that summer I left?” she said, her voice soft. Composed.

  “When you took off without a word? Yes.” How did she think he could possibly have forgotten?

  “Something happened to me—”

  “In Europe?”

  “No. Before that.” She drew a long, slow breath, her shoulders rising and falling. “The night before I left, I was working late. At the office.” She stopped there, looking down at her hands, now twisted together on her lap. “I was doing some photocopying for the case you and Chuck and I were supposed to be working on. The machine had jammed and I was bent over it, checking something out. Carson came up behind me. Made some comment about me teasing him. I thought he was joking. Then he grabbed me and spun me around.”

  Jace frowned even as a chill crept through his veins.

  She started talking faster, her words spilling out, falling over themselves as she described what happened next.

  Jace felt his blood run cold as she spoke.

  “And when he was done, he told me I asked for it, had been asking for it since I started working for him. Told me it was my fault. Told me not to tell anyone and if I did, he would deny it. He said no one would believe me if I said anything and that if I did, he would lay libel charges against me.” A tremor filled her voice. “I was afraid of him. I’d read his case files. I knew how tough and how powerful and persistent he could be. I saw him eviscerate witnesses on the stand. I was terrified and I was desperately ashamed. I didn’t dare tell my parents. Or you. I didn’t dare tell you.”

  The cold became splinters of ice that stabbed him with each of her words.

  “He raped you?” His words came out on a whisper, as if saying them any louder would give them too much substance.