“Hello?” The voice at the other end lacked any of the warmth it had held the other night, back when he'd wrapped her in his arms and…
“It's Faith.” She could hear ice in her own voice as well and she felt as though she were lying, as though the role of enemy didn't quite fit yet.
“Faith, I was going to call you torn—”
“Don't lie to me, Jordan.” She was maintaining her cool exte-rior, not showing too much emotion. “You knew you weren't going to call from the moment you saw me at the station.”
He was silent and Faith took the cue.” Listen, obviously you're upset and mixed up. You must have personal reasons for wanting our statue down, for suing Bethany over the Jesus statue… but I meant what I said.”
“Which was?” He, too, sounded dry and businesslike. Gone was the man she'd connected with, the one whose voice had been heavy with years of memories and longing.
“The whole town will turn out.” She was careful with her words. “I think you're making a huge mistake.”
A laugh void of any humor came at her in response. “You really don't get it, do you, Faith?”
She hated his condescending tone. “No, I really don't. The Jordan Riley I knew would have loved God too much to attack Him in court.”
“I've changed since then. Grown up. I thought you could see it that night… when we were together.”
Faith felt her stomach tighten. “The man I was with was not someone different. He was the same boy I loved as a kid.”
“The same—” Jordan's voice was softer this time, but he cut himself short. When he spoke again it was with fire. “I prayed to Jesus, Faith. The same Jesus honored by that stupid statue. And what did it ever get me? My mother died, my sister was sent off to live with strangers, and I never heard from her again. I never heard from you, either. I lost everything that mattered to me that year, Faith. And the reason it hurt so bad was because of the Jesus statue.”
In the silence that followed, a light began to dawn in the shadowy places of Faith's heart. Jordan blamed God for the losses in his life. And now he was trying to get rid of the Jesus statue as his way of exacting revenge.” Why the statue?”
“Because—” his words were like bullets spewing from a semi-automatic— “because there's no such thing as a Jesus like the one in the statue. A Jesus with open arms, welcoming those around Him to come, to bring their troubles and lay them at His feet so that He might make things right again. God—if there is a God— is a hands-off, mad scientist. Someone who set the world in motion and then stood back to watch it self-destruct.”
Faith leaned forward, physically ill at Jordan's anger toward the God they had once worshiped side by side in church and Sunday school. Lord, how did this happen?How had Jordan missed the point that God didn't promise a trouble-free life, just peace and joy and friendship through the troubles? “I'm sorry Jordan. I… I didn't know you felt that way”
“Well I do, and you ought to feel the same way” He huffed. “The Lord took your dad, He took away your relationship with that football player, and because of the accident He took a year of your life. How can you defend a God like that?”
What struck Faith most was that Jordan honestly had no answers for himself. “I can defend Him because He loves me. He loves you too, Jordan.”
“Wake up, Faith. He could care less about either of us.”
She sighed. “I don't want to get into a theological debate. I just want to warn you. The Jesus statue belongs to the people of Bethany, and any battle you wage there is one you'll ultimately lose.”
“Then I guess I'll see you and the rest of the town in court.” His voice was sharp and cool, lacking even the anger it had held earlier. “Good-bye, Faith.”
Jordan hung up before she could say anything else, and her own anger rose in her defense—then an image filled her head. Jordan Riley thirteen years old, kneeling on damp grass in the freezing still of night a few feet from the Jesus statue, begging God to let his mother live.
Faith closed her eyes and felt tears spill onto her cheeks. She bowed her head and prayed for her father's old law partner, Joshua, and the people of Bethany, that they might have strength to fight the battle of Jericho Park. Then, with a full and broken heart, she prayed for the boy she had grown up with, the one she had once dreamed of marrying, the one who had lost so much the winter of his thirteenth year.
And for the bitter man he'd become.
Eleven
Heidi and Charles were stretched out on their living room sofa enjoying the opportunity to chat about their move to Bethany Charles had given notice at the hos-pital, and for the most part everything was in order. Heidi watched him now, the love in his eyes, the way he cared so much about her happiness. He put his hand on her belly and smiled.
“It's getting bigger.”
She pushed her fist into his shoulder and giggled. “Not it, silly Her.”
“Ah, another princess in the house!” He laughed. “Ultrasounds can be wrong, remember. Happens at the clinic every day”
“Not this time. I have a feeling about her.” Heidi placed a pro-tective hand over her abdomen. “She's our little sweetheart.” Her eyes lifted to his and her heart felt light as air. “I can actually picture her.”
The baby kicked, and a grin spread across Charles's face. “Must be a girl. She's feisty, just like her mother.”
He snuggled in close to her, his arm around her midsection as though he were cradling them both. “You don't mind moving in November… right after the baby's born?”
She chuckled and ran her fingers through his hair. “As long as I've got you and God on my side, I can do anything.”
There was a comfortable silence between them and Heidi stared out the window at the gold and maroon leaves on the tree. Fall was her favorite time of year. Summer's last hurrah—its shout that life is, and life will come again. It was the time of year her mother had gotten sick, a time when Jordan had been her greatest strength, her pillar of hope that God would work through their mother's illness no matter what happened. Even after their mother died Jordan had been strong for her, holding her, assuring her that one day they'd all be together in heaven.
Heidi sighed. Days like this it was easy to picture Jordan as he'd been back then, dark-haired and muscle bound, eyes glowing with sincerity What if he hadn't been in the cave that terrible afternoon at the boys’ camp? What if the state had kept them together instead of separating them?
“You okay?” Charles brushed her bangs to the side and looked into her eyes. “Feels like you're a million miles away”
“I am.” She snuggled against his shoulder and resumed her study of autumn out their living room window “Just thinking about Mom and Jordan.”
Charles exhaled through pursed lips, and she could feel his concern for her. He understood the place in her heart that would always remember, always yearn for the people of her childhood days, for her mother and brother. An idea occurred to her and she turned her attention back to Charles. “What if we name her Jordan Lee?”
Charles cocked his head thoughtfully and then drew near and kissed her. “I like it.”
“Really? You do?” Her mood soared with the possibility that her little girl might carry on her brother's name. The name of an uncle her daughter would never know “From everything you've told me about Jordan, he was kind and strong and loving. He cared deeply about God and his fam-ily. Our little girl couldn't have a better name.”
Heidi buried her head in Charles’ shoulder again. “I love you so much. Thanks for understanding.”
He squeezed her once. “You make it easy”
A few minutes passed and he grabbed the remote control. “I want to see what the president said in his address last night.”
They watched the opening story and after a few minutes Heidi stood up. “I'll get dinner.” She moved behind Charles and massaged his neck and shoulders.
“Mmm.” He closed his eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted. “Can't we just skip din
ner?”
She laughed and gave him a final squeeze.” You might not need it, but I'm eating for two.” She ducked her head in front of him, kissed him on the cheek, and left the room.
Charles craned his neck and watched her go. How did he get so lucky, anyway? Married to the perfect woman and about to be a first-time father? He turned his attention back to the television. It was good to see Heidi smile. Too often this time of the year she was lost in thought, remembering ghosts from her past. He sighed and flicked the channel. If there was one thing he was anxious to ask God, it was why He'd taken Jordan Riley so young. Hadn't it been enough to call Heidi's mother home with-out taking her brother too? A news program played on but Charles was too lost in thought to hear it.
He wasn't angry with the Lord, just curious.
It didn't matter that he'd never met Jordan. Charles had heard enough about him to feel like family, as though he could easily recognize him if he passed him on the street. Clearly Heidi had been crazy about her brother, and every fall her feelings for him came back stronger than ever. The reason was simple: During the hardest time in Heidi's life, Jordan had meant everything to her.
The news program moved onto another story, and Charles focused on what was being said. Something about a park in Bethany and a lawsuit to remove a statue. He tried to make sense of the story, but he'd already missed too many details. He won-dered if Heidi knew about the case. Probably. He leaned back into the couch and yawned. Maybe he'd talk to her about it over dinner. His thoughts shifted to the playoffs and whether the National League had a team worthy of the World Series. For that master, where the big games would be held that year and whether he'd have a chance to take in any baseball action before the move.
By the time Heidi called him for dinner, he'd completely for-gotten about Jericho Park and the obscure news item regarding a legal fight over some statue, or the fact that he'd ever intended to bring up the story to Heidi in the first place.
Twelve
In the small law office in Bethany, the weeks passed in a blur of case study and preparation for Joshua Nunn. But when the day of the hearing arrived, he felt no more prepared than the day he'd been given the case, the day he'd had the strange dream.
“You ready to beat this guy?” Frank had asked in a phone call that morning.
Joshua hadn't, been sure how to answer him. Frank was the mayor after all, the one who had put such faith in Joshua's abili-ties in the first place. From the beginning he had known it would be a tough case to win. Now that he'd had a chance to study case precedent, he was fairly sure it was impossible.
A pain took root in his gut. I'll give it my best.”
“Don't worry about a thing, old friend! We've got the Lord on our side.”
That much was sure, Joshua knew. Twice in the past week various churches had held prayer rallies at Jericho Park with as many as three hundred people—singing and agreeing with each other that the Jesus statue was part of who they were, a key facet of their town's history and personality. The gatherings had done a great job of making the townspeople heard. All three local net-work affiliates had carried stories about the public outcry on their nightly news, making Faith Evans look like a prophet.
“Think there'll be a group at the courthouse?”
Frank chuckled. “If you call a thousand people gathered on the courthouse lawn a group.”
Joshua gulped.” A thousand people?” Lord, I'm not up to this. I need Bob…
Be strong and courageous…I will go before you.
The silent words reassured him, easing the kinks in Joshua's belly.
“At least that many. People are outraged over this. Lot of nerve that HOUR group has, messing with our statue. That's the message the people want to convey and I'm betting they actually get heard today” Frank offered a few more words of encourage-ment then wrapped up the conversation. “Gotta run if I want a good seat. See you there.”
Joshua rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward in his chair. “See ya.”
If Bob were there they'd have had an early morning prayer time, bowed their heads together, and taken the issue straight to the throne room of God. Since that wasn't possible, Joshua was left with only one option: pray alone. The image of Bob's daugh-ter came to mind, and suddenly he knew he would not be praying alone that morning. Wherever she was, Bob's daughter would be lifting her voice as well, asking God, even begging Him, to have mercy on the people of Bethany Pennsylvania.
Even if case precedent and HOUR and everything else were against them.
Joshua folded his hands, stared for a moment at the photo of Bob Moses on the office wall, closed his eyes, and hung his head. “Okay God, here it is: You know the situation…”
Faith pulled into a nearly full lot across the street from the court-house, parked her car, and instructed herself to calm down. Her heart pounded as though it were trying to break free from her body and start a life of its own.
“God help us,” she whispered as she climbed out of her car and locked the door. She'd gotten up earlier than usual that morning and prayed for nearly an hour, but still peace eluded her. In the weeks since speaking to Jordan, since hearing the determination in his voice, Faith's confidence that the city would win the case had eroded like beach property in winter. Now that the morning of the hearing had arrived she was more nervous than ever.
She wasn't covering the story for the station, but she'd be rec-ognized all the same. Days earlier she'd been warned to stay out of the camera's view—keep her distance if she wanted to keep her job.
“You're recognized everywhere you go,” Dick Baker told her. “No anchor of mine will be taking sides on a political issue like this one.”
His words echoed in Faith's mind as she made her way past a peaceful demonstration on the front lawn, nodding at several people who waved in her direction. She entered the courtroom and found a seat near the back. The courthouse was located just outside Bethany in a newly renovated area designated for state government buildings. Judge Randall Webster would preside, and Faith was not at all comforted by the fact. Prior to taking the position as a jurist for the state of Pennsylvania, Judge Webster had been a defense attorney who earned a reputation for getting his clients the lightest possible sentences. He was a liberal man who'd made it abundantly clear he saw no place in society for religious icons, the Ten Commandments, or any mention of God whatsoever. Faith felt certain that if it had been up to Judge Webster, the dollar bill would say, “In us we trust.” And that phi-losophy pervaded everything he said from the bench.
Faith spotted her father's partner across the courtroom and their eyes met. She smiled and discreetly pointed upward, mouthing the word, “Believe.” Joshua nodded, his eyes filled with warmth even though uncertainty controlled his face. He returned his attention to his notes, and Faith shifted her gaze to the other side of the room.
Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted Jordan Riley He moved easily from one end of the table to the other, his chis-eled face masked in concentration, shoulders filling out his dark designer suit. She berated herself for being attracted to him. God, help me remember he's on the wrong side.
He moved toward what looked to be a team of attorneys, and they surrounded him the way athletes do in the final moments before a game. Clearly Jordan was in control of the meeting. He spoke commands to several of the men, and one at a time they peeled away and took their seats, either at the plaintiff's table or in the first row behind it.
She looked at him, hoping he would meet her gaze, but he was too caught up in his preparation. God's on our side, Jordan… besides, nothing will bring back your mother.
Faith saw that every seat in the courtroom was taken, but still people continued to stream in, lining two and three deep along the walls. Finally, security guards blocked the entrance and began turning people away.
Judge Webster entered the room and a hush fell over the crowd. He studied the mass of people, looked from perfectly dressed Jordan to the older Joshua and gently
rapped his gavel. “Order…court is in session.” His voice was deep and gravelly and carried with it an authority that sent a shiver down Faith's spine.
Please, God, be with us…
“This court will now hear the matter of Humanity Organized and United for Responsibility versus the city of Bethany, Pennsylvania.”
Joshua watched as the judge lifted his chin and stared down the bridge of his nose. “I understand there are—” he made no effort to hide his sarcasm— “a few people interested in the out-come of this case.” His voice boomed out from the bench. “Let's make one thing clear up front. No intimidation will take place in my courtroom. People are welcome to have an opinion.” He gestured toward the window that overlooked the courthouse greens. “They are even invited to line up twenty deep across the lawn.” He paused and glared at Joshua. “But nothing they say or do will influence the rulings I make in my courthouse now or at any other time. Is that clear?”
Joshua felt every eye in the room on him. “Yes, Your Honor, of course not.”
The judge glared at Jordan next. “That goes for you, too.”
Jordan Riley grinned at the judge as though the man were a favorite uncle. “Absolutely, Your Honor.”
Judge Webster sat back in his seat.” In that case, let's begin. We'll hear from the plaintiff first.” He motioned at the audience. “The rest of you may be seated.”
Those who had seats did as the judge directed, and Jordan took the floor. He paced slowly in front of the tables, holding his notes as though if he studied them long enough he might remember what to say. Joshua knew that wasn't the case. He'd done his research on Riley. The man's memory was one of the best in the business. The notes in his hands were merely for appearances, a device intended to give the impression that every-thing he said—from his opening argument to his closing remarks—was strictly from case law and researched material. That way he wouldn't come across as having a personal vendetta against the people of Bethany or their Jesus statue. Rather he was simply a legal servant of society, doing his best to maintain the line between church and state.
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