Gold in the Fire and Light in the Storm

by Margaret Daley

  Samuel ran his hand through his hair, massaging the back of his neck. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t really thought about setting up a workshop.”

  “You should. You’re very good.”

  He felt his cheeks flame and was surprised at his reaction. Nothing usually threw him, but for some reason Beth’s compliment had. “I’ve thought about making a dollhouse for the annual auction.”

  “That would be great! Jesse and Darcy would love it.”

  “Aren’t you the head of the auction?”

  “Yes, but I’m turning the reins over to them. Remember, I’ll be gone by then.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.” The thought of having only a few months to get to know Beth bothered him. He chalked it up to the fact she was an intricate part of the church and would be sorely missed when she left.

  Beth heaved a deep sigh. “I’d better be going. It’s been a long week and will be a busy weekend now that Daniel is home.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “You don’t have to. I know the way.”

  “I know. I want to.” Samuel fell into step beside Beth as they made their way down the stairs to the coat closet.

  He helped Beth slip into her long black wool coat with a fake fur collar. After she fitted her hands into her black leather gloves, she made her way to the kitchen to tell Aunt Mae goodbye and thank her for the delicious dinner. When they walked back to the foyer, Samuel opened his front door, a blast of cold striking him in the face.

  “Really, my car is right there in your driveway.”

  “Wait.” Samuel snagged a jacket from a hanger and quickly donned it.

  Outside on the porch a cold breeze swirled about them, making Samuel instinctively draw closer to Beth in an attempt to keep her warm. She didn’t move away.

  “I’m not a winter person. I’m really looking forward to spring.”

  He chuckled. “We have less than two months till the weather gets warmer.”

  Beth hurried down the steps toward her car. “Nothing beats spring. The colors are breathtaking after a drab winter. God sure knew what He was doing.”

  At her Jeep Samuel stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Do you think it will take long to get Jane tested?”

  “I’ll try to push it along.”

  “Why didn’t I see this before now?”

  “Jane has probably been very good at covering up her weaknesses.”

  “I should have been more aware of what was going on with Jane at school.”

  “When a child moves from school to school, she often gets lost in the shuffle.”

  His chest tightened, guilt gnawing at him. “In other words, we shouldn’t have moved so often.”

  “You didn’t have a choice. That was your job.”

  “We always have a choice. I should have quit the army long before I did. But up until Ruth’s death everything seemed fine. I can’t believe I missed the signals. Ruth handled everything. I…” Samuel couldn’t finish his sentence. His wife had kept the home running while he had kept the church running. It had worked, or at least until now he’d thought it had. What had he missed out on with his children? His guilt grew to knot his stomach.

  “The important thing is that you’re doing something about it now. Maybe I’m wrong and Jane is just rebelling.”

  “I don’t know if I want you to be wrong or right.”

  Beth reached out and laid her hand over his on the car door. “Let’s wait and see what the testing shows before we start throwing blame around. And even then, I strongly advise against blaming anyone or anything. It’s wasted energy.”

  He smiled. “You’re very wise, Beth Coleman. Have you thought about going into counseling?”

  “I’ll leave that job up to you. Teaching is what I love to do.” She slid behind the steering wheel.

  Samuel leaned into the car while she started it. “From what I’ve seen, you’re very good at your job.”

  “And from what I’ve seen, you’re very good at yours. The sermon last Sunday was inspiring.”

  He glanced away toward the streetlight that illuminated a part of his yard and the church. The building’s gray stone facade mocked him. Its towering bell tower housing the brass bell that rang every Sunday jutted up toward heaven. In that moment he didn’t feel worthy of setting foot in the church.

  Guilt ridden, he stared at the dark shadows that surrounded the Garden of Serenity at the side of the building, where members of his congregation often found solace. In the dead of winter with snow still covering the ground he had walked its stone paths, sat on a wooden bench and looked at the pond, hoping for some kind of inspiration, and yet nothing had come to him. Instead, his sermon last Sunday had been a recycled one from when he had been in the army. He’d thought it had been an appropriate one right before Lent, concerning Jesus’ mission in the days preceding His death. More than anything he had needed to reconfirm why Christ had died for them.

  “Are you all right?”

  Samuel blinked, tearing his gaze away from the church. “Yes, I was just thinking about the garden.”

  “It won’t be too long before we’ll have to tend to it. Spring is around the corner.” Beth started her car. “But even in winter I like to visit the garden from time to time. There’s a certain beauty in the starkness of nature at this time of year. And with the pine trees and holly bushes it isn’t totally brown.”

  “Is the garden’s upkeep another one of your little projects around the church?”

  Beth laughed. “No, I have a brown thumb when it comes to plants. Cooking’s my forte. Joshua Markham is in charge of the garden.”

  “Good, because I have to confess I have a black thumb when it comes to gardening. I’ve been known to kill a cactus because I underwatered it. I have to admit I can’t cook, either.”

  “But you do beautiful things with your hands. I mean…”

  Samuel heard the flustered tone in Beth’s voice, but couldn’t make out her features. He could imagine a blush tainting her cheeks. She blushed so easily, but the red tinge added a glow to her face, enhancing her beauty. “I know what you mean. God gives us each a talent.”

  “Yes, and we need to emphasize that to Jane.”

  “I’ve tried. But for some reason she doesn’t think my opinion counts. She once told me I have to love her because I’m her father.”

  Beth sighed. “I wish that were true.”

  A touch of pain laced her words as though Beth knew firsthand the falseness of that conception. In a perfect world all parents would love their children and there would be no mental or physical abuse. He knew from counseling parishioners that wasn’t true. Was Beth’s knowledge derived from being a teacher or from personal experience? He remembered her telling him about her father leaving her mother. He shivered, thinking of the answer to that question.

  Beth reached over and switched on her heater. “I’d better go before you freeze.”

  Samuel watched her disappear down the street, suddenly wishing that the evening wasn’t over. Her caring nature added a charm to Beth Coleman that was very appealing. That observation took him by surprise. He hadn’t thought of a woman being appealing since the death of his wife, his high school sweetheart, the only person he’d ever seriously dated.

  “Then if we all are in agreement, we’ll put Jane on an individual education plan where she can utilize these modifications we have discussed to help her with her auditory processing problem.” Dr. Simpson, the school psychologist, shuffled some papers and produced a sheet of paper, which she signed then slid across the table to Samuel. “If you’ll sign here, saying that she qualifies for special education services under the category of learning disabilities, Ms. Jones will go over the IEP.”

  Beth noticed Jane pale and ball her hands in her lap when Nancy Simpson said “learning disabilities.” The teenager’s teeth dug into her lower lip. Beth’s heart wrenched at the sight of the child fighting back tears.

  “Jane, you should sign, too.” Dr. Simpson
guided the paper toward her after Samuel had penned his name.

  Jane stared at the paper on the table before her. She started to say something, but her lower lip trembled. She dropped her head, her shoulders hunched over.

  Sitting next to the teenager, Beth covered Jane’s hand with hers. “No one needs to know you are on an IEP unless you choose to tell. This is kept strictly confidential.”

  “Everyone will know. They’ll think I’m dumb.”

  The waver in the teenager’s voice tightened a band about Beth’s chest. She knew exactly how Jane felt. She realized Jane would have to come to terms with her disability in order to get the help she needed. That wasn’t easy when she was a fifteen-year-old in a new school. Jane should have a circle of friends much as Darcy, Jesse, Zoey, Tanya and she had. Then maybe the teenage girl wouldn’t feel so alone.

  “It won’t come from us, Jane. No one will know you’ll have a copy of the teacher’s notes. No one will know you have extended time for your tests. All these accommodations can be carried out without others knowing.”

  Jane’s head jerked up, and she glared at each person sitting at the table. Tears shone in her eyes. She shoved back her chair and shot out of it. “I won’t sign the paper.” She rushed for the door.

  Chapter Five

  Samuel’s gaze snagged Beth’s across the empty chair between them. A dazed expression in his eyes told of his own overwhelming feelings concerning the past thirty minutes. A myriad of tests and their scores had been thrown at him, along with a list of recommendations to help Jane. He might have thought he had been prepared, but from his look Beth doubted he really had been.

  Beth rose. “Let me see if I can explain again that everything will be kept private.” She directed her statement to Samuel, who nodded.

  She left the conference room and went in search of Jane. Beth’s black pumps clicked against the tile floor, echoing in the empty hall, as she walked toward her room. Jane had probably escaped outside; she was maybe even at her father’s car waiting for him at this very moment. Beth decided to grab her coat and check the parking lot. The cold chill of a late February afternoon would go right through her if she didn’t.

  She stepped into her classroom and halted. Jane stood at the window, her shoulders sagging forward, her chin resting on her chest, her head touching the cold pane.

  “I’m not going back in there, Miss Coleman.” Jane drew in a huge breath and held it for a few extra seconds. “I saw how everyone was looking at me. I don’t need anyone’s help. If I want to do good in school, I will.”

  Beth covered the space between them, stopping a few feet from Jane. “I’ve looked at your records from your previous schools. I know you can do well in school. Up until a few years ago your grades were good. I noticed you had some trouble in elementary school, especially with reading, but you seemed to overcome that.”

  Jane spun about and took a step back. “So you’re wondering what happened. I don’t care anymore about school. I’m—I’m…” Tears slipped from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. As quickly as she wiped them away, more appeared.

  Beth moved closer. “I know when I reached high school I started to have more trouble. The work was harder, so therefore it took longer to do my homework and assignments, to memorize what I needed to know, to read the work I needed to do. Is that what’s happening?”

  Jane kept her gaze turned away, but nodded.

  “Some of the things we’re suggesting to help you will make it easier for you. Hopefully you won’t feel so overwhelmed.”

  Jane squared her shoulders and looked Beth in the eye. “I’m not overwhelmed. I don’t care anymore.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  Her bottom lip began to tremble. Jane bit into it and looked away.

  Determined to discover what was behind Jane’s statement, Beth stepped even closer and laid a hand on the teenager’s shoulder. “Why, Jane?”

  “My grades…”

  Beth moved into Jane’s direct line of vision. She lifted the young girl’s chin. “I care, Jane.”

  “My grades were important—” Jane swallowed hard “—to my mom. She helped me study when I was having trouble.”

  “You didn’t care about having good grades?”

  “No.” With a sheen to her eyes Jane stared at Beth. “Yes, I wanted good grades, too.”

  “But that changed when your mom died?”

  Jane wrenched away from Beth and crossed her arms over her chest. “Everything changed when my mom died.”

  Her palms sweaty, Beth curled her hands into tight fists. With a conscious effort she tried to relax against the radiator as though the conversation they were having was mundane, unimportant. “You know, Jane, you and I are a lot alike.”

  Jane leaned back against the other end of the radiator. “How so?”

  The girl’s tone of voice spoke of her doubts that a teacher and she would be alike in any way. Beth suppressed a grin and said, “I lost my mother when I was nineteen. She was my world, and when she died I didn’t know what to do. There are times I still think about her and my heart breaks even after all these years.”

  Jane slanted a look toward her. “You do?”

  “But she’s always in here.” Beth touched her heart. “No one can take that away from me.” She ran her hand along the radiator, feeling its heat chase away the chills the memories brought. “If you want, I’ll tutor you at your house. No one will need to know. It’ll be between you and me. We can do it several times a week in the evening. What do you say?”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I care what happens to you. Jane, I think you’re very smart and have a lot of potential. I don’t want to see you throw it away. Will you let me help you?”

  “I still don’t want to sign the papers.”

  “I know. The accommodations will be there for you to utilize if you choose to. It’s not easy asking for help. I know. I’ve been in your shoes.”

  Someone cleared his throat. Beth looked toward the doorway at the same time as Jane. Samuel stood just a foot inside the room. How much had he heard? Beth wondered, and pushed herself away from the radiator. “Is the meeting over?”

  “Yes. Are you ready to go home, Jane?”

  “You mean I don’t have to go back and sign the papers?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.”

  She straightened, her chin tilted at a proud angle. “I don’t. I’m going to my locker and get my books.”

  When Jane left, the silence in the room grew. Beth wanted to ask if Samuel had overheard any of their conversation, but couldn’t find the words. She made her way to her desk to gather up her papers. “I’ve offered to help Jane in the evening a couple of times a week. Is that all right with you?”

  “Where?”

  “Your house. She doesn’t want anyone to find out.”

  “Do you have that kind of time?”

  Beth swung her gaze to Samuel’s. “I do for her. This is something I want to do, unless you object.”

  “No! I’m thrilled she has agreed. Maybe you can reach her. No one else has been able to since her mother died.”

  The touch of vulnerability always just below Samuel’s surface emerged. It was obvious that his wife’s death had deeply affected more than Jane. He was floundering just as much as his daughter. Could she help both father and daughter? Would she be able to before she left Sweetwater?

  Lord, give me the knowledge and strength to know what to do to help both of them. They are lost and need Your love and guidance.

  When Jane finished explaining the functions of each branch of government, Beth said, “I think you’re ready for your government test tomorrow. What do you think?”

  Jane raised one shoulder in a shrug. “I guess so.”

  “Did it help to have a copy of the teacher’s lecture notes?”

  Jane turned her head away, doodling on the piece of paper in front of her. “Yeah,” she murmured in such a low voice Beth wouldn’t have heard he
r if she hadn’t been sitting right next to her at the table.

  “Good. Then I’ll continue to get your teachers’ notes for you.” Beth hoped one day that Jane would begin to ask for the notes on her own, but until then she would. Jane needed to be convinced the accommodation worked for her.

  Beth knew the second Samuel appeared in the dining-room doorway. She felt the power of his gaze and met it with a smile that lightened her heart. For the past month she had been coming to his house to tutor Jane three times a week, and every time she was about to leave he would appear and they would end up talking. At first about Jane. Now their conversation covered just about every topic in the news—but nothing really personal and certainly nothing about his deceased wife. Beth wasn’t sure how she could help him when he wouldn’t let her in.

  “Jane, there’s a call for you. You can get it in my office.”

  Jane furrowed her brow. “I can pick up in the kitchen.”

  “You might want to take this call in my office.”

  The teenager pushed herself to her feet, dropping the pencil she had been doodling with onto the open notebook. “Who is it?”

  “A boy.”

  “It is?” The perplexed look on Jane’s face deepened as she headed toward her father’s office, her steps quickening.

  “Are you two through for the evening?” Samuel came into the room and stood on the other side of the table.

  “Yes.” Beth gathered her books and papers and stuffed them into her briefcase. “A boy calling Jane. I wonder who it is.”

  “I was sorely tempted to ask his name, but I suspect Jane wouldn’t be too thrilled if I did. But you can bet I will be asking my daughter when she is through talking to the young man. I’m a firm believer in knowing what is going on in my children’s lives. And this latest problem with Jane at school tells me I have been neglecting that responsibility. I won’t do that again.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Kids can be great at hiding things, and with you all moving so much the previous schools didn’t pick up on Jane’s problems, either. Sadly, that happens.”