“Rachel, I may not be your pastor anymore, but I would like to think we’re still friends. I’m always here for you to talk to.”
“I don’t need to talk, and if I did, it wouldn’t be with someone who is friends with him.” Rachel gave him her back.
“If you’re so angry at him, why are you here?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Shade thinks I may be able to help him.”
“Can you?” Dean leaned casually against the window, blocking her view and forcing her to look him in the eye.
“No. My gift isn’t like that. I don’t heal; I can’t fix what’s broken,” Rachel tried to explain. She blew out a breath of air. “I’m more of an emotional empath. I can give off warmth and sense things that are out of place. I can transfer my feelings to others, but I am not a healer.”
“I don’t think Lily would agree with you.”
“I didn’t heal Lily; Shade did.” Rachel believed in giving credit where it was due. Without Shade giving Lily a sense of being protected, she would never have healed or been able to face her demons.
“I see. Have you tried?”
Rachel nodded. “I told you, it’s useless. Everyone thinks I’m not helping him because I’m mad at him, though.”
“I’m not saying Cash doesn’t deserve your anger, merely that your gift comes from love, and hate always stands in the way of love.” When Rachel rolled her eyes at his trite words, Dean laughed. “I know it sounds idealistic, but I believe it. Just because I’m no longer a minister, it doesn’t mean I don’t have faith.”
She knew he might be right. Whenever she had felt the warmth in her hands, it had come when she was thinking of how much she wanted to help the person and cared for their happiness.
“I’m not capable of helping him.”
“I get pretty mad at Cash sometimes. I wasn’t at the party, and he pissed me off.”
Rachel blushed.
“The hardest battle I fought as a minister was everyone’s view of sex. I don’t believe because a woman enjoys her sexuality that makes her a whore. Small towns tend to be judgmental.”
“Yes, they do,” Rachel agreed.
“Rachel, I don’t doubt you’re hurt, angry, and embarrassed to have something that was special to you thrown out at a party to humiliate your brothers. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Rachel looked quickly over her shoulder at Cash, as if he could hear them while in a coma. “I was. I don’t even like him now, though,” she confessed.
Dean nodded. “If it’s any consolation, he felt terrible about what happened. He was trying to find you when he wrecked.”
Rachel closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to feel any emotion toward Cash.
“I’m not trying to get you to forgive him. This is about you, Rachel. You are a very giving and kind person who has helped every person in this town at one time or another, yet you didn’t give any of us a chance to stand beside you when you needed us. You ran.”
“I was so angry at my brothers and Cash. I didn’t want to be near them.”
“If you keep letting them control you, they will. Learn to stand up for yourself.”
“That’s easier said than done,” Rachel replied.
“I’m willing to bet they’re more willing to compromise since you left. I’ve seen Tate, and he’s in bad shape. Dustin and Greer aren’t much better.”
Rachel blinked back tears. Her brothers might be idiots, but she missed them. “I’ll call them.”
Dean’s hand squeezed her arm. Standing up straight, he then gave her the smile she had seen on so many Sunday afternoons.
“I’ve missed having you to talk to. Do you miss the church at all?”
An indiscernible look crossed his face. “I miss talking with and helping the people I grew close to while I was undercover, but getting up early every Sunday? No.”
Rachel laughed at his attempted joke.
“If you need to talk, I’m just a phone call away,” Dean offered.
“I am, too,” Rachel returned the offer as he left then stood, staring sightlessly at Cash on the bed.
Gingerly reaching out her hand, she touched his foot and attempted again to connect with something in him. Nothing.
She sat back down on the chair, waiting.
Chapter 12
Rachel was crossing the parking lot to her car when she saw her brothers walking toward her. She thought about going back inside the ICU where they couldn’t go—Shade had put them on the ‘do not admit’ list to provide her with a safe zone from them—instead, she stopped and waited for their approach.
She refused to feel guilty when she saw how worried they were. Tate’s face was haggard, and he had aged at least ten years in a matter of weeks. She braced herself for their harsh words, but was ill-prepared when Tate didn’t hesitate to jerk her into his arms, holding her close. When he finally released her, she was enfolded in Greer’s then Dustin’s embrace.
“I’m going to give you an old-fashioned butt whippin’ for scaring the shit out of me, Rach,” Tate threatened.