“Yeah. He said I should take him up on it to appease my mom.”
“There you go. The man has a gift for telling people what they want to hear. I’d go, if I were you. It might help you feel better.”
“Alright. Maybe I will. Thanks, Sammie.”
“Take care, girl. See you in the morning.”
Chapter 15
I didn’t want to sing and clap, but being the wet blanket to Emma Lee’s joy would have been even worse. So I went along with the opening song, as did Sammie, to indulge her. I kept my eyes scanning the crowd. I would call my mother eventually, but I didn’t know what to say yet, so I didn’t want to bump into her here.
The song concluded and Cotton took the stage. This morning his suit was powder blue.
“Wonderful song. I want to thank the choir and everyone in the congregation.” He raised his hand and waited for everyone to quiet down. “It’s a very special day here in Grunwald, Texas. This week, in the dark of night as Veterans Day came to a close, God’s light shined on this town.”
Now the whole crowd was silent.
“A day that should have been full of celebration of heroism and sacrifice very nearly turned to tragedy. There was an accident outside town, and a little girl became lost in the forest. But thanks to prayer and one extremely courageous individual, God showed us His works and brought the child home. Will the Hagen family and Kelly Clegg please join me up here?”
I went blank for a second. Beside me, Emma Lee jumped to her feet.
“Is that us, Mommy?”
“Yes! Let’s go up and see all the people! Come on!”
Emma Lee’s excitement brought me back to reality. She scrambled past me, pulling her equally excited mother by the hand. Bewildered, I looked over at Phil, who rolled his eyes and shot me a grin.
“Let’s get it over with,” he said. I let him tug me to my feet and then I followed him down the wine-colored carpet of the center aisle. My stomach was crawling by the time I reached the stage.
Dozens of stage lights and five cameras stared at us as Cotton paused to let the congregation clap and cheer. I didn’t want to think about how many people were watching from home.
To the right, I could see a screen showing one of the camera views. There was Sammie, smiling and holding her beautiful family. And there I was, just off to one side, the odd one out, the one with no husband and no child, a little too tall, a little too broad, my red-brown curls already disagreeing with what I’d done with them this morning. And my displeasure was plainly evident on my face. I tried, and failed, to put on a more presentable expression.
“I want to present Phil, Sammie, and…” Cotton squinted at the paper on his podium. “Emma… Lee. Hagen.”
“Pronounced like ‘Emily,’” Phil offered.
“Emma Lee. Here’s the family whose scary experience allowed us all to feel the presence of the Lord. Let’s give them a hand and thank God that their girl is safe.”
Another round of cheers.
“And Kelly Clegg.” Cotton stepped past the Hagens to put his hand on my arm. I nodded and gave a tight-lipped smile.
“Because of the reputation of the Green Ravine river valley, it took some doing to rally people to come out to the scene of the accident,” Cotton said. “But a good portion of the people here in this church came out to pray with me. Mrs. Clegg here was not content to pray, though. At the time, I didn’t understand it. But when she plunged into those woods alone and returned with Emma Lee, I knew that Mrs. Clegg was the answer that God had sent us. Let’s show her our appreciation, ladies and gentlemen.”
My forced smile turned into a genuine one. I hadn’t expected that. I couldn’t see the congregation very well because of the lights in my face, but I could hear the applause and whistling.
The chief of police, David Branchett, stood in the front row in his full dress uniform. I noticed that goofy cowboy gun on his hip as he started to walk up the steps to the stage. Right behind him was Martin Vintner, the mayor. Vintner carried a small box in his stout hands.
I tried to make a neutral face as the two men came to stand on either side of me. Vintner dabbed at his shining forehead with a handkerchief before opening the box and holding it out to me. It was a bronze medallion on a bright red sash.
“Kelly Clegg, on behalf of the town of Grunwald, I present you with the Mayor’s Medal of Honor,” Vintner said. He picked up the medal while Branchett reached across me to take the box from him. Vintner then placed the medal around my neck. My face must have turned as red as the sash. There was another round of applause as Vintner and Branchett both shook my hand and took a step back. Sammie and Emma Lee embraced me, shouting with delight.
Cotton smiled. “Let Kelly Clegg be an example to everyone. She acted in the spirit of the holiday. Veterans Day is for soldiers of the United States military, but we are all soldiers for God. We must pray to Him for strength, of course, but there comes a time where we must put fear aside and take action, trusting that He has given us what we need to see it through. Never again must fear of darkness grip the town of Grunwald. Let this terror of the curse pass into memory and then into distant history.”
I found myself nodding. Wow. I actually don’t disagree.
“So let us thank God for guiding this church to Grunwald so that this miracle could be performed. And let us never forget to give the first fruits of our labor to God so that He might return it to us tenfold. Everyone hold up those offerings. Let’s show our support to the church so that it can continue to bring God’s blessings to Earth.”
OK, that’s more like it.
Chapter 16
When I stepped into Cotton’s office, I was again surprised. The chamber was comfortable for a man of his size, but not overly large or gaudy. He sat behind a modest desk. To one side was a shelf with multiple copies of the various books he’d written. To the other side was a glass display case full of military decorations and memorabilia. I took it all in with interest.
The pastor was just surprised to see me. After a second, his puzzlement became amusement. “You sure didn’t wear that medal for very long.”
I held up my purse and shook it, making him laugh. He gestured to the pair of chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat. Help yourself.”
I looked away from the display case and noticed a grilled chicken salad in a sealed plastic package on the desk in front of me. He had an identical one at his place.
“I don’t know what young women like to eat these days,” he confessed.
“That’s… fine. Thank you.” Still not sure of myself, I sat in one of the cushioned chairs. I looked up at the display case again. My eyes wandered across a hat covered in patches. “Vietnam,” I said. “Army paratroopers.”
“Yes, I found myself drawn to the priesthood after the war.”
I glanced at him and felt my guard dropping a little. “I had no idea.”
“I don’t often talk about it. Sometimes I make a passing mention in my sermons, but it’s really not a place I like to go back to.” The pastor’s face fell, the television smile gone. “Sometimes, I think there are times and places in the world where God just isn’t there.”
I stared into the sad old eyes, not sure what to say.
With a deliberate effort, he cheered up and grinned again. “Not to drag you down or anything. We’re not here to talk about me. You didn’t look pleased about my inviting you to the stage, but I was glad to get to say some nice things about you and the town anyway. I hope you didn’t mind.”
I shifted. “I was sure surprised, but it wasn’t that bad. I’m just not used to cameras and big crowds.”
“I see. Do you go to the other church?”
“Sometimes. Not as much as I should.”
“Understood. Well, I’m very glad you came here today. I feel I owe you an apology.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yes.” Cotton leaned back in his rolling chair. “I realize how everything must have looked to you
that night. Your best friend’s child was missing and all I was doing was leading a prayer circle. Your approach proved to be the right one, so I thought I owed you an explanation.”
I sat up straighter. “Yeah. That didn’t seem very helpful. I would like to understand.”
He rubbed his face. “I was operating under the assumption that the girl was frightened and would run from any strangers. The only hope of finding her, I figured, was to mobilize the locals. And they weren’t going in those woods. You know the whole reason the Lord called me to move the church here, right?”
“Yes, to dispel the myths because they’re somehow threatening to Christianity.”
“That sure makes for a good narrative, doesn’t it?” he said, resting his chin on his hand. “Mrs. Clegg, I came from Atlanta, one of the most traffic-jammed cities in the country. As the world gets more modern, a lot of people feel they’re being left behind. They isolate themselves from a connecting world and cling to beliefs of all kinds. I feel my job is to make sure those beliefs aren’t destructive. And, I think you’ll agree with me when I say the beliefs of Grunwald were destructive the night Emma Lee went missing.”
“Well… yes. Kind of. No one wanted to go after her.”
“Exactly. People are afraid of autonomy, of responsibility. They need to believe in something more powerful than themselves. When they believe that higher power is against them, as is the case with Grunwald and the forest, that’s bad. People will be paralyzed if they don’t think the higher power is on their side. That’s why I bring this church where it’s most needed.”
I felt words coming to me that I hadn’t been able to articulate before. “I know the kind of church Bellwether is. You tell people to give money to you and they’ll be rewarded with material wealth of their own. You’re a prosperity pastor. As if God is a giant high-interest investment for people to pay into and then withdraw when they need. Meanwhile you line your own pockets. I’ve seen it before.”
He shrugged. “It works.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean these people believe in something. Did you see the crowd that night? The people that moved to Grunwald from Atlanta were raring to go. They only stopped to pray with the natives because I asked them to. Don’t you see? The people who followed me here believed the power was on their side, so they were ready to take action People need to believe. I saw great things accomplished in Atlanta because the people believed they had built up enough good credit with God that they could do anything. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, because it produces results.”
“You sound like you don’t believe it yourself.”
“My own belief has no bearing, that’s the beauty of it. It gives power to people who otherwise feel they have none. They accomplish God’s will in deed and do amazing things, which places them closer to God in spirit. Instead of waiting for the faith to come to them before they do the works, they are emboldened to do the works first. That’s all. You can disagree all you like, but I’m doing some good for the world.”
I sighed. “It still feels wrong. But I can’t disagree as much as I want to. Not anymore. I understand your position a little better.” I hesitated. “And I accept your apology. What did my mother say?”
Cotton glanced behind me. “You can close that door, if you feel the need.”
I reached back and swung the door, leaving it open an inch. Then I started to open the salad container in front of me.
“In her voicemail she said she feared you were lost. She mentioned a husband and said you were lonely and seeking attention, rambling about the bear in the woods. She didn’t give me much context. Can you tell me about yourself, Mrs. Clegg?”
I let out a long breath. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Well, from your actions on Wednesday night, I gathered that you are not a local. When did you move here?”
I began picking at my salad, feeling a little more at ease with the pastor. “I grew up in Victoria. My dad owns a surveying company. When I was thirteen, the city of San Antonio offered him a job doing some re-zoning. They were negotiating annexing some of the surrounding towns. A lot of the towns were fighting it, Boerne and Bulverde especially, so my dad was up here locking horns with councilmen every day. Eventually, he moved us here to Grunwald to be closer to most of his work. I went to high school here.”
Cotton unwrapped his own lunch, working adeptly with his one functional hand. “Please, continue.”
“I met Sammie and Rachael at school and we all three became best friends. My junior year, we dated three guys who were best friends too. Sammie was with Phil Hagen, Rachael was with Mickey Flaherty, and I was with Garrett Clegg.”
“Your future husband, obviously.”
“Yes. They all three proposed at our high school graduation. We did everything as a set of six. My parents were pretty upset when I was engaged at eighteen and married at nineteen. My dad ended up buying a house to retire on the north side of San Antonio and they weren’t pleased to hear I was going to stay in Grunwald. That was never part of their plan.”
Cotton smiled. “Life is never part of the plan.”
“Garrett was planning to follow the local tradition, do some time in the service, and then come home and follow his father into the clergy.”
“The clergy…” Cotton snapped his fingers. “That’s right. Pastor Gordon Clegg. You married his son. I didn’t make the connection until now.”
“Right. Well, it didn’t work out that way. Life got in the way again. Phil enlisted right away, but Garrett put it off for a year to spend some time with me after our marriage. Mickey held off too because he wanted to do basic training with Garrett. Eventually Garrett gave in to his sense of duty, and they joined up. My parents took their chance to start pressuring me into divorcing him and moving back in with them. Garrett’s parents had helped us with the down payment on a little house, so I was able to stay here. I avoided my folks and took community college classes for journalism. But after a while, I started to listen to what my parents were saying. They were right, I was lonely. So I started to consider a divorce. After a year, Garrett came home and spent a couple weeks of leave with me. By the time he returned to duty, I was pregnant.”
Cotton stopped eating and stared at me.
“I felt stuck. I still loved him, but I couldn’t deal with him being gone all the time. Maybe it was all the stress, I’m not sure. I ended up losing the baby in the first trimester.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been terrible.”
“That’s the worst part.” I looked at him long and hard, trying to resist the tears I felt coming. “I felt… relieved. I hated myself and felt so guilty for it. But it was the out I thought I needed. I was about to file for divorce when I heard he had been injured.”
Cotton produced a box of tissues and slid it across the desk. “One thing after another. No wonder your mother worries about you.”
I took a tissue and dabbed at my eyes. “No kidding. Anyway, it was horrifying. They flew me out to Germany to see him in the hospital and everything. His eye, his arm, his leg, burns all over… and traumatic brain injury. His personality changed. He won’t talk to me about it.”
“So you don’t know exactly what happened?”
“Well, he was lapsing in and out of consciousness and I was next of kin, so they had to share information with me. He told the psychologist that his unit was clearing a building and got hit with an improvised explosive. Mickey was on point with Garrett and the rest stacked up behind. Mickey’s body shielded Garrett from most of the blast. Garrett came home injured, but Mickey came home in a box.”
“He left a widow… Rachael, you said?”
“Yes. She was pregnant too when this happened. When Phil heard what happened to his friends, he got out of the service to be with his family. I don’t blame him. Emma Lee was about a year old then.”
“So to make sure I have this straight, Sammie’s family came out intact. She has her husband and child. Yo
u kept the husband but lost the child, and Rachael lost the husband but kept the child.”
“That’s exactly right. Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Not that crazy. War does these things.”
“Well, Rachael didn’t take it very well at all. She completely withdrew from us. Said we both got off lucky because our husbands came home. I’ve barely even met her daughter, Laylah.”
“The dynamic has got to be difficult for all three of you.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Did it ever cross your mind that your actions Wednesday night were the result of this strange situation? Perhaps a projection of, not to be cheeky, a ‘mama bear’ instinct? You’re the one without a child, after all. Maybe some part of you has adopted Emma Lee as your own?”
“That did occur to me, yes.”
Pastor Cotton stared at his salad for a minute. “Nothing to worry about, just a thought. Well, what about Garrett? Has he recovered?”
“Mostly. The brain damage was the hardest part. At first I hoped he had forgotten all about the pregnancy. But eventually he cleared up enough to ask, and I had to tell him I had miscarried. He just… snapped. As soon as they let him drive again, he bought a motorcycle and threw himself into volunteering for disaster relief. He’s barely been home since. The October hurricanes hitting the Deep South in the last couple of years have kept him extremely busy. He visits for a day once or twice a month. He obsesses over his work, saying he’ll come home ‘when the job is done.’ I haven’t been able to bring myself to think about divorce again. I’m holding out hope he’ll settle down. Of course, my mother isn’t.”
Cotton’s face turned thoughtful. “Old Pastor Clegg in the other church must be having a rough time. I never realized. Perhaps I should reach out to him, huh?”
“He might appreciate that.”
Pastor Cotton stood up and started a slow walk around his desk. “Well, I’d like to tell you that prayer and donations to my church will help you, but we both know that won’t work with you. So I have to ask—what do you have faith in?”
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