A Kingsbury Collection

by Karen Kingsbury

  Despite all of that, Jordan could not remember ever feeling more relaxed.

  It was Faith’s turn. Judge Webster scanned the spectator section and leaned into his microphone. “The court would like to hear from Ms. Faith Evans.”

  Faith made her way to the front of the courtroom, and Jordan joined the others watching her as she took the witness stand. She looked professional, like she’d just walked off the studio set at the station, and Jordan wondered if she knew how proud he was of her.

  Although Faith made an undeniable presence, Judge Webster did not look affected by it. “Miss Evans, as a landowner and party to this matter, I will allow you to voice your concerns.” He sounded unemotional, as though his dialogue were scripted. “You may proceed.”

  Faith smiled at him. “Thank you, Your Honor.” Her eyes shifted to the courtroom and locked onto Jordan’s. His pulse quickened. How had he survived sixteen years without her? She looked away, her eyes dancing as she searched the faces of the spectators. “The reason I purchased the property in Jericho Park is because I think the people of Bethany deserve to see the Jesus statue. Every hour, every day of the year. Anytime they’d like.” Jordan was struck again by both her beauty and eloquence. He stifled a chuckle. Even a crusty old guy like Judge Webster had to dread making a decision against her.

  “When the statue belonged to the city, it was a liability the people were unaware of until the judge’s earlier ruling.” She turned back to Judge Webster. “But now that it belongs to me, I believe I have a right to see it, to access it like any other property owner. By placing a permanent wall around it, that would of course be impossible.” She shrugged lightly and looked back at the spectators, this time bypassing Jordan.

  “Ultimately I agree with Joshua Nunn and the citizens who signed the petition. Let the people decide. And in this case, my purchase of the property has helped to do just that. The mandatory placement of a permanent wall around my property would be a violation of my right to access it.” She leveled her gaze at the judge in a way that was just short of angry. “And that would defeat the whole point, Your Honor. Because you told this court at the first hearing that you were concerned for the rights of the people. I’m assuming that means my rights as well.” She smiled politely. “That’s all, Your Honor.”

  In the silence that followed Faith’s testimony, it hit Jordan that no matter what argument he might present today, God’s plans would prevail. Based on the statements by Joshua, the valid points by Faith, the fact that the statue was now clearly private property, and the signatures of five thousand local voters, Jordan was sure he wouldn’t have had a chance. He swallowed and looked down at his hands, humbled by the enormity of it all. He would have lost the case—and possibly his job. Maybe even the relationships he’d rekindled with Heidi and Faith.

  Most of all he would have missed a chance at new life, the life God planned for him to live all along.

  The judge was rambling on about the decision being his no matter what anyone else brought to the table. Jordan’s thoughts wandered for a moment and almost immediately his stomach twisted. The loss of this case would cause fallout from the lowest levels of HOUR to the highest levels of state government.

  It was entirely possible Jordan might never work as a lawyer again after today. What firm would trust him after what he was about to do? See me through it, God … please. Give me the words to say.

  Faith had returned to her seat, and Judge Webster smiled weakly at Jordan. He knew the judge wanted him to save the day, to give an irrefutable argument strong enough to quell the voice of the people. “The plaintiff will now state his position. Mr. Riley?”

  He thought of the hours he’d spent preparing for his career, his fervor at winning battles for the wrong side—and he was assaulted by warring emotions. These are my last few minutes as an attorney for HOUR …

  Jordan took the floor, and his anxiety dissipated, as though he were sailing on a reservoir of peace. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he wasn’t worried.

  God was in control.

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and made his way closer to the judge. “Several years ago when I first became a lawyer, I had one thing in mind.” He stopped and locked eyes with Judge Webster. “Find the wrongs and right them.”

  Jordan exhaled heavily. “For years I thought those wrongs centered around Christianity, around the people who insisted on being public about their religious beliefs.” An image came to mind of Mr. Campbell, the high school teacher Jordan had gotten fired for praying with a student. He cringed inwardly. Lord, if only there was some way to make it up to him …

  And suddenly Jordan knew that there was.

  “I thought those things, but that was before I filed suit against the city of Bethany.” He turned and faced the curious eyes of the spectators and the concern on the reporters’ faces. “I’ve found out a lot since I started this case.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I found a friend I thought was lost forever … ” He let his gaze linger on Faith for an instant before looking around once more. “I found a sister who thought I was dead … and I found the heart’s cry of my mother, who I buried in Bethany when I was just a boy. But most of all I found this.”

  Jordan faced the judge and took another step closer. Let him hear me, Lord … let all of them hear me … “Most of all I found out that putting walls around myself, or walls around Jesus Christ isn’t righting a wrong.”

  A wave of whispers washed over the courtroom, and from the corner of his eye, Jordan saw several townspeople break into grins and grab hold of the hands of someone next to them. There was no turning back now.

  “Order!” Judge Webster was furious. “There will be no talking, no—” he waved his hands in the air—“no outbursts like that, or I’ll have everyone thrown out.”

  Quiet fell over the crowd, and Jordan waited until he had the judge’s full attention before resuming. “I could tell you that I concede here this morning. That Mr. Nunn’s speech about government of the people, by the people, for the people was right on, or that Faith Evans made a valid legal argument by requesting that her right to access and view her property not be denied.” He cocked his head and paced a few steps toward the spectators. “I could tell you the HOUR organization has no right removing a landmark from a city where five thousand people want it to remain.” He stopped and gazed past the people to Joshua, sitting serenely at the defense table not ten feet away. “But I don’t want to concede.”

  The courtroom seemed to hold its collective breath, waiting for Jordan’s next word the way a retriever waits for a tennis ball. He smiled at them, praying they could see the difference in him. “Instead, I want to add my voice to those who have already spoken today by saying this—” he spun slowly around and stared at Judge Webster— “please, Your Honor, put a three-foot-high wrought iron rail fence around the base of the Jesus statue, but don’t wall it in. I have no right, and neither do you nor anyone else, to censor a park statue because it depicts a religious figure.”

  Jordan folded his arms and looked down for a moment, overcome with emotion. When he felt strong again he looked up and continued. “My days of attacking the very beliefs this country was founded on are over, Your Honor.”

  Judge Webster’s face was chalky white, and an air of stunned amazement hung in the courtroom. Nearly a minute passed before the judge spoke. “Am I to understand that you are revoking your earlier request, counselor? That you no longer want this … this Jesus statue surrounded by walls?” His voice was quieter than at any time since earlier that fall when the proceedings first began.

  Jordan felt a twinge of pity for the judge. It wasn’t his fault God had opened Jordan’s eyes, and now he had little choice but to rule in favor of the people—a ruling he was clearly against. Help him see the truth, too, God. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m revoking my earlier request.”

  For a moment, Judge Webster did nothing but stare at Jordan. Then he rolled his eyes, look
ing like a man disappointed in a favorite son’s bad decision. “Very well. I will take the information shared with the court this day and make my decision. Court is adjourned for fifteen minutes.” He rapped his gavel once and then quickly left the room.

  Jordan saw the reporters pressing in toward the front of the courtroom, each of them desperate for an interview with him. He looked to the spot where Faith had been sitting, but she was gone. He moved back to the plaintiff’s table, sat down, and rested on his forearms. There was a tap on his shoulder and Jordan braced himself. After today, the public sector would never again view him the same way.

  He turned around, expecting to find a microphone in his face. Instead he saw Faith, eyes glowing with more feeling than Jordan had ever seen before. Unconcerned about the cameras aimed on him, despite the fact that the entire country would know his feelings by tomorrow, he stood and came to her. A railing separated them, but he drew her close anyway, hugging her, certain that somehow—despite the camera flashes lighting up the room—everything was going to work out.

  He pulled back and saw there were tears in her eyes.

  “That was perfect.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “It wasn’t planned.” He squeezed her hands, still mindful of the crowd closing in, watching them. “I told God I’d let Him do the talking.”

  A reporter wedged herself between them and stared at Jordan. “Mr. Riley, did someone pay you to revoke your earlier request?”

  “No, of course not, I—”

  “Mr. Riley—” Another reporter, this one with a microphone half the size of his face, angled in closer and took Jordan by the sleeve. “Now that you’ve become religious, are you resigning from the HOUR organization?”

  “I didn’t become religious. I’ve always known God … I just got sidetracked for a few years because of personal—”

  “Mr. Riley, what is your relationship with Faith Evans?”

  “Did you change your mind about the statue because of your feelings for her?”

  “Mr. Riley, tell us why you no longer think human rights are important?”

  The questions came at him like bullets from a semiautomatic. Faith cast him a quick look of sympathy and allowed herself to be squeezed back by the media. Her eyes told him they’d talk later. As she moved to the back of the courtroom, a vision filled the screen in Jordan’s mind. Faith and him and Rosa Lee in a church full of people. And something else. His mother smiling down at him from heaven, giving him the biggest thumbs-up he’d ever seen.

  His heart grew warm with compassion for the throng around him. After all, he’d been just like them a week ago. He turned his attention to the reporters. “Rights are very important to me, but I understand now that I’ve been attacking human rights, not defending them. People have a right to freely express their religious views whether in this court or … ”

  Jordan continued to answer questions, and the fifteen minutes passed quickly. Judge Webster needed only one rap of his gavel to bring the courtroom to order. Reporters hurried back to their spots and a hush gave way to utter silence. The judge looked about, and there was humility in his eyes. “This court is now in session.” He glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. “I have reached a decision in the case of the HOUR organization versus the people of Bethany, Pennsylvania.”

  Jordan clenched his jaw and prayed.

  A heavy sigh drifted from the judge’s mouth. “Honestly, I had my mind made up about this case long ago. From a personal standpoint, I agreed fully with Mr. Riley’s earlier argument.” He cast a discouraged glance at Jordan. “But this is not a case I can decide based on my personal viewpoint. Instead I must—according to the law—make my decision based on all possible evidence and points of view.” His eyes shifted to the spectators. “As Mr. Nunn reminded us, this is government of the people, by the people, and for the people. And I believe in this case the people have spoken.”

  He tapped his finger on the paper and looked from Joshua Nunn to Jordan and back again. “For that reason, I hereby rule that a three-foot high, wrought-iron railing shall be erected around the Jesus statue in Jericho Park, along with a plaque declaring it to be private property.”

  Jordan wanted to raise his fist in the air, jump on the table, and shout to all the courtroom about God’s faithfulness. Instead, he glanced up toward the window, at the blue sky beyond, more grateful than words could express. How awful it would have been if …

  Jordan banished the thought. Things had worked out, just as the Lord had promised.

  A wave of excited whispers rose through the courtroom, but the judge said nothing. He glanced at Jordan, but refused to make eye contact, allowing his eyes to settle on Joshua instead. “If there are no further questions—” he waited for a moment—“this court is adjourned.”

  Judge Webster left in less time than it took Jordan to stand and start loading his briefcase. The moment the judge was gone, a cheer rose up across the courtroom, the kind usually reserved for game-winning touchdowns or buzzer-beating three-pointers. The cheers filled Jordan’s senses, and he had the distinct impression that the applause of heaven itself was mingled in the sound. He looked behind him and saw that Faith was gone, but that was okay. She and Heidi had agreed to meet right after the hearing since Heidi had stayed home with the baby.

  “Jordan … ”

  He turned and saw Joshua Nunn. He reached out his hand, aware that the reporters were closing in again. “Hello, Mr. Nunn. Great job.”

  Joshua smiled, and Jordan had the strange feeling he’d spoken to the man before. Something about his eyes. Then it hit him. Shining from the older man’s eyes was the same peace and warmth and certainty he saw in Faith’s, the same he’d seen in his mother’s eyes back when he was a boy. Wasn’t there something about that in the Bible? The eyes being the window to the soul? Jordan wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing. He had a friend in Joshua Nunn.

  One that he felt sure had been praying for him.

  “Faith tells me you’ve had an interesting week.”

  Jordan nodded. “Yes, sir.” He dropped his gaze for a moment and then found Joshua’s eyes once more. “I’m sorry about all this. I was wrong. There’s no other way to say it.”

  Joshua put his hand on Jordan’s shoulder and grinned. “I didn’t come over here for an apology, Jordan. I have something to ask you. Now let’s get out of here before the press eats you alive … ”

  30

  The warm smell of fresh roasted turkey filled the Benson home, and Joshua Nunn could hardly wait for the meal. In the days since the hearing, he and Jordan had talked at length, and finally Jordan had promised an answer by Thanksgiving Day.

  “It’s a lot to think about,” Jordan had said the night before. “I’ll give you my answer tomorrow. Over dinner.”

  Now, as the others bustled about the kitchen and Joshua and Helen watched the final minutes of a football game, he smiled to himself. The idea that Jordan would tell him over dinner was a good sign. Especially given the group of people gathered there. Heidi and her husband and baby daughter, Jordan and Faith. Even Rosa Lee had been able to come for the day. They were a tight group with everything in common and every reason to celebrate, even if Jordan had been fired the day of the hearing. Jordan hadn’t gone into details, but apparently his conversation with the partners at HOUR had not been a pleasant one. He’d planned to quit anyway, and Joshua had a hunch God had better plans for the young attorney than any of them could imagine.

  Faith’s news had been better. The media groundswell of interest surrounding her had continued to be positive—even after Jordan’s statements in court and the photographs of their hug had made the front page of every newspaper for a couple hundred miles. As a result, WKZN made an executive decision to hire her back on a part-time, feature basis. She’d work out of the same Philadelphia studio as before, but her feature pieces would run nationally. It was a dream position that paid twice as much as her previous job and allowed her more time off.

  In addition, the p
revious station manager, Dick Baker, had been relocated to an affiliate in Los Angeles.

  Joshua smiled. It was just one miracle after another.

  He remembered again the dream he’d had in his office back before Jordan had filed suit, back when he couldn’t imagine lasting another day without Bob Moses’ help. You’re so faithful, God. And he realized the Lord hadn’t merely brought down the walls in Jericho Park, He’d torn the walls down from their hearts as well. All of them. His and Faith’s, and especially Jordan’s. He saw again the portraits he’d seen in his dream. One of himself, and one of a handsome, angry young man. Joshua chuckled softly.

  God had done everything he’d promised.

  And now that Jordan was smiling more, his picture was going to look absolutely fantastic on the office wall.

  Faith set the mashed potatoes on the table and caught Heidi’s eye. “I think we’re ready.”

  From across the kitchen, Jordan smiled first at Faith, then at Heidi. He had Rosa Lee by the hand and he bent down and whispered something to the child before the two of them took their places on either side of Faith. Rosa’s entire face was lit up, a grin spreading from ear to ear as she took Faith’s hand.

  Thank You, God. I’ve never been so happy in all my life. Daddy, if only you could see me now …

  Over the past two days, she and Jordan had spent hours together, much of it with Rosa. There was no denying the feelings she and Jordan had for each other, and though she wasn’t exactly sure of Jordan’s intentions, she could see how completely he’d fallen for the little girl as well.

  “Okay, everyone, time to eat.” Heidi’s voice rang across the room, and in the den Joshua turned off the television. The group gathered around the table and held hands. Heidi smiled at her brother. “Jordan, would you say the blessing for us?”

  Faith squeezed Jordan’s hand as a hundred memories danced across her heart. Memories of Jordan and Heidi and her as kids, believing that somehow they’d be together forever. And now, against all the odds, on a day devoted to giving God thanks, here they were.