Page 24 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)
LUCAS
P ulling into the parking lot of Camp Grace, I watch as campers run across the grounds, laughing and calling after one another while their counselors are trying to wrangle them together to get them to the next activity.
For a moment, I let the familiar scene wash over me.
I’ve spent almost every summer here, walking along the trails and learning about God while basking in His creation.
I’ve never had any trouble feeling His presence on these grounds.
But now, the air feels heavier and there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as my gaze moves toward the wooden cabin where Pastor Mark’s office is housed.
That office used to feel like a safe place, somewhere I could get answers and guidance whenever I needed it. Especially after my mom died. My dad wasn’t always able to be there for us the way he should’ve, and Pastor Mark took on a role as a father figure without even knowing it.
But now, it’s different. Now it feels like I’ll be walking straight into judgment if I walk through that door. Judgement that’s undoubtedly deserved. Because I have to go in there and confess to what I took from him, how I betrayed his trust in a very personal way.
Perhaps the most personal way.
I sent Hannah home to speak to her mother. She wanted to come with me at first, but I managed to convince her that it should be something I do alone. It might be too little too late, but it’s the right thing to do. I owe this to her father. No dodging, no excuses. Just the truth.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Pastor Mark steps out of his office. He pauses, glancing in the direction of my truck as a small frown forms on his face.
God, please let this go well.
The truck door slams shut behind me, the sound ringing louder than it should in the stillness of the late afternoon.
Each step across the gravel feels heavier than the previous, as I try to gather my thoughts—silently rehearsing words that refuse to come together in my head.
At least I took two minutes to shower and dress in a fresh shirt before coming out here.
I’m not sure showing up with grease stains on my hands and face would help my case.
“Lucas,” Pastor Mark greets, holding his hand out in greeting. His tone is neutral, but his gaze is searching. “I didn’t know whether I’d be seeing you again. Especially considering the way my daughter looked this morning.”
Taking off my cap, I take his hand and shake it, not missing the way he squeezes a bit harder than necessary.
“Me neither, sir,” I tell him honestly, my voice sounding steady despite the way my stomach is churning. After this morning, I thought I might never see Hannah again, much less be standing here now. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. It was never my intention, I hope you know that.”
He nods slightly. The silence stretches between us as Pastor Mark studies me with his familiar mix of patience and perceptiveness.
It’s the same look he gave me when I came for counseling sessions as a teenager, digging into my feelings in a way I couldn’t on my own.
Now, I find myself wishing he could see straight into the secret I’m hiding, saving me from having to grapple for words that won’t ever be enough.
My grip tightens on the brim of my cap, I watch the man that is now my father-in-law—without even knowing it.
“Lucas, what’s on your mind, son?” His voice is laced with a note of concern. “You don’t look so good.”
I let out a heavy breath, steeling myself for what I know I must do.
“Sir, first I want you to know that this is not how I ever thought this conversation would go. But there is something that I need to tell you—something I need to own up to.”
His brows knit together, and he straightens slightly, his stance shifting.
“Should we maybe go inside for this?” Pastor Mark suggests, gesturing toward the door of his office behind him. “It looks like we need some privacy, and perhaps a chair.”
“That would be good, yes,” I let out, following him into his office.
The wood structure hasn’t changed much since I’ve last been here.
It’s still filled with his giant desk on the one side and a comfy couch across from it.
A small smile tugs at my mouth as my gaze falls on the pillows Hannah’s mom made from their favorite clothes.
Being here makes me feel more like the small-town boy I used to be instead of the grown man who plays professional hockey I am right now.
Turning, I watch as Pastor Mark closes the door behind us, closing us off from the rest of the world.
I swallow. Somehow, this isn’t better.
On the walls are photos of the Sanders family.
Photos where Pastor Mark is holding his two daughters, laughing with them while they’re covered in paint.
Guilt floods my stomach as I’m faced with what I’ve done.
Now, gazing at the man who has been there for me so significantly in the past, it feels like I’ve stolen something from him.
Like I’ve dishonored his family by dishonoring his daughter in the way I’ve handled things.
It’s not the way my parents raised me. I should’ve gone to him to ask for his blessing to marry his daughter, after we were together for an appropriate amount of time.
We should’ve gotten married by him, in the church Hannah grew up in.
Instead my impulsivity took over, my self-control was non-existent.
I rushed something that should’ve taken time and bulldozed through it in less than nine hours.
God, it doesn’t feel like I deserve Your help, but I really need it.
He gestures for me to take a seat at the desk as he sits down in his chair, steepling his hands. He watches me carefully, his brown eyes cautious as he waits.
I take a deep breath, picking a safe place to start. “You know that Hannah and I were together in high school and that we were quite serious about each other.”
“Oh you were, were you? I thought you looked a bit like the boy who sat at my breakfast table for a few years.” His voice is laced with slight humor for which I’m thankful.
“Yes, sir.” I can’t help but smile, the situation feeling insane all of a sudden.
“Anyway, to be completely honest with you, I kind of saw things going a certain direction. Even if we were just eighteen back then, I knew what we had and I knew what it could become if we gave it the necessary time. But I guess it didn’t work out that way. ”
It was hard for me to come to terms with it back then. It was like Hannah ripped the rug from beneath my feet when she broke up with me. I could see how everything would play out between us, the future we could’ve had together, and then it all changed in a matter of minutes.
“No, it didn’t.” Pastor Mark sighs. “Lucas, I know you have a history with my daughter. We all saw how serious you two were and to be honest, I was a bit relieved when you two ended things.”
His words strike a nerve and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. If he’s relieved that we broke up, he’s not going to like what I have to say.
Before I can say anything, he continues, “I didn’t want your relationship to pull you from the plans God had for you.
When you’re that young, it’s easy to choose the easier path—all in the name of love of course.
But I’ve been counselling married couples for a long time, and somehow it always goes back to old wounds and resentment. I didn’t want that for either of you.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m not sure I’m following,” I say with a frown.
“You’ve done well for yourself over the past five years.” He said it as a matter-of-fact statement, making me feel a little bit better about how he might perceive me as a husband for his daughter. “After school you pursued hockey. You’ve played for the Rangers for the past three years, right?”
“Four years sir, my contract ends next year. But I’ve been told there will be another offer on the table should I want it.
” I can’t help but feel a sense of pride at what I’ve accomplished in my hockey career.
I’ve worked hard, kept my head down, done the training and got to where I needed to be considered as one of the best. It’s not something I take lightly.
Pastor Mark smiles at me, almost like he’s proud of what I’ve achieved. “You worked hard to get where you are today. And I’m not entirely sure your hockey career would be where it is if you and Hannah stayed together, am I right?”
I sigh. He sounds like my dad right now, making it seem like Hannah was the deciding factor in my life.
I would’ve stayed in Georgetown for Hannah, it would’ve been the easier decision.
But it would also have been for my father and my brother.
Perhaps I just don’t want to admit how much she influences me and my decisions.
“You know the family farm is important to me. It’s been in our family for more than four generations.
I’ve always pictured myself taking over from my father.
But when things didn’t work out with Hannah.
..” I trail off, thinking how different my life could’ve been.
Everyone’s life changed when Hannah made her decision five years ago—even Noah’s.
Now, yet again, things are on the brink of changing.
In more ways than I’ve even considered. “It doesn’t matter anymore.
We are where we are today, despite our decisions back then.
Things can change so quickly, and that’s why I’m here, sir. ”
Pastor Mark frowns slightly, then nods, giving me room to say what I came here to say. “Last week, Hannah and I ran into each other.” I swallow. “In Las Vegas.”
My gaze stays on him, watching and reading every change in his demeanour.
His posture stiffens slightly at my mention of Vegas.
The tension between us suddenly grows thicker.
Pastor Mark presses his steepled hands to his mouth, like he’s trying to keep himself from saying anything. His gaze pins me to my seat.