Welsh Wildfire

by Clare Revell

  Josh frowned. She brought him breakfast? After having had a go at him the last time she saw him? Which was also at breakfast if he remembered rightly. Had it only been twenty-four hours since he’d seen her last?

  She came in to the room. “How are you?”

  “Fine. You?”

  “I’m OK.” She headed over to the side.

  Josh turned back to the laptop and scowled at his brother’s grinning face. “She lives here,” he signed.

  “You’re living with a woman?” Even without vocalizing it, Matt managed to convey shock in his signs.

  “That’s not what I said. I’m lodging at her parents’ house.” He signed rapidly, not bothering to speak as he set Matt straight, not wanting Jess to know what his brother was teasingly inferring. Not that the grin went away, it only broadened.

  “She’s pretty.”

  “And you’re pretty annoying.”

  Matt laughed. “And she’s right behind you.” He yawned. “I’m going to call it a night. Have a good day. ‘Night.”

  “’Night.” Josh closed the laptop. “My brother,” he explained, taking the plate. The contents surprised him. “Pancakes?”

  “That is what you Yanks normally eat for breakfast, isn’t it? Other than that revolting sausage, cake, and milk concoction?”

  “I’m only half-American. And technically not all Americans are Yankees. Only those that live north of the Mason-Dixon line.”

  “Then, tomorrow I shall do haggis as that’s what the Scots eat.”

  He broke off a piece of pancake and speared it with the fork. He hadn’t been hungry, but the smell of the food was making his stomach growl. “I’m only half Scottish and no one in their right mind eats haggis for breakfast.”

  “Or at all,” she said. “Are you always this disagreeable first thing in the morning?”

  “Depends on how much coffee I’ve had.” He sighed. He really didn’t want to start another early morning fight with her, but if she didn’t back off she was going to get one.

  “Then it’s a good thing I came prepared, look you.” Jess held out a cup. “Here you go. There’s a whole pot full on the side.”

  “Thank you.” He took the cup and inhaled deeply. Just the scent hit the spot. “You’re here early.”

  “I need to pick up a couple of things before chapel. Are you going to come with me?”

  “No. How many more times…”

  She tilted her head. “It’s just there is something different about you that I’ve only ever come across in Christians before. You don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t swear…”

  “You can be born in a garage and not be a car,” he quipped. “I don’t like the taste of alcohol and smoking is a stupid habit.”

  “So’s biting your nails.” She nodded to his hands.

  He cringed. He’d bitten them far too much in the past few weeks. It was the only outward sign of the stress and raw emotions that filled him to the point of overflowing. “That isn’t going to kill you,” he shot back. “Whereas smoking will, and drinking probably will too.”

  “True.”

  He ate quickly, hungrier than he realized.

  She studied him. “So why run here and not Scotland?”

  “Run to the first place they’d look for me? Yeah that makes sense.”

  Jess perched a hip on the counter, sipping her coffee. “America’s a big place. Surely there must be some remote place in the mountains or desert…”

  “Not when you’re a household name because of your job. And it doesn’t help when your dad is a politician.”

  She tilted her head. “You’ve intrigued me now. Are you really famous? Did you save the president’s life or something?”

  He snorted. “I wish. No, that’s down to the Secret Service to do that. Thank you for breakfast. I should make a move and get down the rest of the ivy.” He stood, once again taken aback by her beauty and his desire for her…to be with her. Somehow. He had to ask her again, keep asking her. “Will you go out with me later, maybe?”

  “I told you, I can’t.”

  Once again she’d turned him down.

  What would his brother do? How had Matt gotten Laurel to agree to date him?

  Josh took three steps over to Jess and kissed her. His hand cupped her face as he poured every ounce of passion he could into the kiss. His other hand slid down to her waist, holding her in place.

  Jess froze for an instant, then responded to him.

  Then as quickly as he’d begun the kiss, he pulled away and ended it. “If you want me I’ll be out front.”

  7

  Jess stood there, shock running through her. She could feel the imprint of his lips, taste the coffee, and smell his aftershave. Every part of her tingled and sang. Then anger replaced the exhilaration. How dare he?

  She’d said no to dating him several times, and still he had the audacity to kiss her anyway.

  The brazen cheek of the man.

  Then her anger turned inwards to her traitorous body and the fact it had betrayed her. Not only had she let him kiss her, she’d kissed him back. More than that, she’d enjoyed it, and wanted more.

  She stopped short. She wanted what?

  Oh no. No way.

  There was no way she was going to allow that to happen. Ever. The less she had to do with that man the better. In fact, maybe he’d do them all a favor and go home.

  She was better off single.

  The problem lay in the small town she lived in and the fact she was an upstanding pillar of the tiny close-knit community. She was expected to marry.

  And Josh was living in her parents’ house—another problem.

  But the main problem? Well that was easy. His faith, or rather the lack thereof. And it was a huge stumbling block, because despite his lack of faith and her desire to remain alone, she wanted him. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone. She craved his touch, his attention, his…love? Was that what she wanted? Or was what she was feeling the same as the giddy school girl crush she felt when watching her favorite actor on the TV.

  Maybe she should leave. As soon as her parents came back. Just be honest with them like she should have been from the outset. She had to tell them that being a small town country GP wasn’t her cup of tea, and she was planning on taking up a job in the city again.

  She left the dishes in the sink and headed outside. The object of her thoughts—she baulked at the word desire—stood in the front garden tugging at the ivy.

  His blue gaze fell on her, a smirk covering his lips. “I’ll get rid of the rest of this before lunch. Does your dad have an incinerator?”

  “There’s one in the back garden. But you can only use it after six in the evening.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Jess scowled at him. “And I’ll thank you not to kiss me again.”

  Josh’s smirk grew bigger. “You’re welcome, lassie. Do you want dinner after church?”

  “Yes…uh, no.”

  He tilted his head. “Well, which is it? You have to eat at some point.”

  “Yes, I—”

  “Well, that’s great,” he said, cutting her off. “It’ll be ready at one. Don’t be late.”

  Jess flounced down the path. Had he just railroaded her into that as well? She climbed into the car and slammed the door. She hit the wheel in sheer frustration and anger. “Ohh!”

  The people living next door must have visitors as there was a car she didn’t recognize partially blocking the drive. If it was still there when she got back, she’d go around and ask them to move it.

  Da’s voice echoed in her mind. “Don’t let anger get the better of you, Olwyn. Play loud hymns and pray for the idiot who annoyed you.”

  Jess pushed a CD into the slot and turned up the volume. She closed her eyes. “Lord, bless the idiot blocking my drive. He can’t help lacking manners and the ability to park properly.” She sucked in a deep breath. “And as for the other idiot? How dare Josh presume to kiss me? But then I’m at fault
too, I guess, for letting him—for kissing him back—for wanting him to—”

  She broke off. “For enjoying it. Forgive us both. Something is really bothering him, and I wish I knew what it was, because then, perhaps, I could help him. You see, I like him way too much, but I can’t have him because he wants nothing to do with You. Maybe if he did know You, then things could be different. Is it wrong to ask You to convert him purely for that reason?”

  She opened her eyes at a rap on the window. She opened it. “Yes?”

  “Just checking you’re OK.” Was that concern in Josh’s eyes or was she imagining it?

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Good. Don’t be late. I’ll see you at one.”

  She was determined not to come back to the house after the service, but force of habit found herself parking in her usual spot on the driveway.

  The ivy had completely gone, and Josh had even started to clean the brickwork. The cottage looked almost sad without its familiar covering. Jess took a photo on her phone and emailed it to her parents.

  The door opened as she held out her key to the lock. “Oh, look, an automatic door,” she quipped.

  Josh grinned, a tea towel flung over his shoulders. “Great timing. I’m about to dish up. It’s not a roast, I’m afraid. I made Spanish chicken.”

  Jess hung her bag up in the hall. “Well, it smells great.”

  “Mom makes it a lot. Well, when she can get in the kitchen, that is.” Josh headed down the hallway.

  “Does your Da do all the cooking, then?” she asked, remembering what Josh had said about grilling.

  “No. They have a cook these days.” He moved over to the stove. “Have a seat.”

  Jess moved to the table as Josh put a huge pot on the table between them. “Are you feeding the five thousand?”

  “No. I figured I could freeze whatever was left over into individual portions. Something else Mom did a lot at one point.”

  She sat. “Sounds like things changed a lot at home.”

  He nodded. “You could say that. I’d left home by the time they did, but it’s still weird going by the old place and them not being there.”

  “Know how that goes,” she said wryly.

  He nodded. “Don’t let it get cold.”

  She closed her eyes, reciting grace in her head, as always saying it in Welsh. Am yr hyn a dderbyniwn, O Dad, gwna ni'n wir ddiolchgar. She noticed that although Josh didn’t say grace, he waited for her to finish before offering her the rice so she could serve herself.

  “Chapel was good,” she said, putting rice onto her plate.

  “Was it?”

  “Yeah. He preached on Jonah and the whale.”

  “Big fish,” Josh corrected. “The Bible doesn’t call it a whale anywhere.”

  Jess looked at him in surprise. How did a man who wanted nothing to do with church know something like that? “Oh, OK. Anyway, Pastor Bryn was saying—”

  He held up a hand to silence her. “If I wanted a sermon, I’d go to church. Can we just eat, please?”

  “Sure.” She concentrated on her meal for a few minutes. Lord, show me how to help him. He obviously knows his Bible, so perhaps he’s fallen away from You. Maybe I can show him the way back. Is that why You keep bringing us together like this?

  She glanced at him. “You look like your brother.”

  Josh put another spoonful of chicken on his plate. “Identical twins tend to do that. And before you ask, yes I miss him, and no, he doesn’t know where exactly I am. That’s the nice thing about email and video calls. They don’t give away your location.”

  “Why are you running?” she asked, holding his gaze. “What did you do that’s so bad you couldn’t stay in the US? Did you kill someone? Are you running from the heddlu?”

  “The what?”

  “Heddlu—police.”

  “No,” he shot back. “I am not running from the cops.”

  “So why travel seven thousand miles? Surely there was somewhere closer you could have gone. And don’t say this is a holiday. You’re holding down two jobs, so you’re not by here for fun.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Fine. My father is Andrew Wilson.”

  He stopped as she couldn’t keep the gasp of surprise inside.

  “The Andrew Wilson?” she asked, wondering why she hadn’t worked it out.

  “See, why I was keeping it quiet? And why going anywhere in the US was out of the question.”

  “So those suited men I saw you sending away…”

  “Secret Service. Reporting back to Dad that I was alive, well, and hiding in Wales.”

  “That doesn’t explain you sneaking over by here and hiding,” she said. “Because that’s exactly what you’re doing. What is the real reason Josh Wilson is in the middle of nowhere?”

  ****

  Josh sighed. “OK.” He put his fork down, no longer hungry. “You want the truth?”

  Jess nodded. “The whole truth.”

  He looked at his hands for a moment, trying to work out the best way to say it, only there wasn’t one. “I’m a pastor. Well I was, up until July fourth.”

  Her jaw dropped. “No. Seriously? But you’re so anti-church.”

  “Yes, seriously.” Josh took a deep breath. “I was Pastor Josiah Wilson of Hope Street Christian Fellowship in Oklahoma City. It’s a big church, not like you’d picture it here with a spire and stained glass windows, but based in a huge warehouse to the south of the city. There’s roughly a congregation of a thousand at each of the three services on a Sunday and again on a Wednesday. It was growing under my ministry. People were being converted and baptized. My preaching was well received and Internet downloads reached several hundred each week. I was doing what God wanted me to do. Seeking and saving the lost, and I was good. They would tell me so. I even had a weekly radio slot that reached several thousand more.”

  Jess’s intent gaze pierced him to the core. “That’s an awful lot of I in there and not much God. You’ve heard of pride comes before a fall, I assume? What happened?”

  Josh scowled. Who was she to criticize him? “Stuff happened. It doesn’t matter what.”

  “Yes, it does. For a pastor to turn his back on his faith and God and run halfway across the world, it must be a pretty big something.”

  He pushed down his anger and shoved his plate away. “Suffice it to say that God and I have had a parting of the ways. I stayed with my parents for a while, but the White House is like a goldfish bowl and they wouldn’t let the subject slide either. So I came here.”

  “To hide?”

  “Yes, to hide. From the past, from them, from God.”

  Jess rolled her eyes. “Jonah couldn’t hide from God, and neither can you.”

  Josh stood. “The last thing I need is a lecture.”

  “What did you do that was so bad? Did one of your sermons land you in hot water with the heddlu or something? Or did a member of your congregation accuse you of conduct unbecoming?”

  Josh sucked in a deep breath, not wanting to even go there.

  Jess stared him down. “You of all people know that God can and will forgive you anything if only you ask Him. And that someone who is doing God’s will in the way you say you were, is going to be under direct attack from the devil and his forces of evil.”

  Josh stood and walked outside. He leaned against the wall of the house and sucked in what should be a series of deep, calming breaths, only they weren’t. The breeze ruffled his hair. He could still hear the wind and the screams. Around and in front of him he could see the destruction. He shoved his fists into his eyes. “Make it stop. God, if You love me, make it stop!”

  ****

  Jess sat for a moment, stunned. What in the world? She stood and headed into the other room to the computer. Once it booted up, she typed Josh’s name into the search engine. Hundreds of entries popped up. Narrowing the search, she typed Pastor Josiah Wilson, Hope Street Christian Fellowship.

  A news report headed the list. She clicked it.<
br />
  Hope Street Christian Fellowship destroyed by F5 Tornado screamed the headline.

  Jess read, tears blurring her vision and her chest tightening. The storm had hit mid-morning during the worship service on July fourth, striking the church from the side, preventing a far higher death toll. Fourteen people had died, including his grandparents and one of his mother’s protection detail. Josh himself had been injured trying to save a child who’d later died from his wounds. More clicks showed photos of the devastation and lines of body bags. The report said the storm formed fast and there was little time for advanced warnings, the sirens only sounding as the storm hit.

  “No wonder he’s running, Lord, and no wonder he’s mad at You. This happened while he was doing his job, preaching Your Word. Help me to show him that You still care and there is no need for him to hide because this wasn’t his fault.”

  The pager on the window sill went off. Jess picked it up and headed outside to find Josh. He sat on the retaining wall, his head in his hands. “Josh?”

  His head slowly rose and he met her gaze with red-rimmed eyes. “Can you give me another minute, please?”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. Your pager went off.” She held it out.

  “Thanks.” With a heavy sigh he moved off the wall.

  “Is that why you fight fires now?”

  He stopped part way over to his car. “What?”

  “If you can’t save their souls, you’ll save their lives instead?”

  His eyes glistened and he regarded her with a scowl before he turned and walked towards the car.

  Jess stood in the sunlight as Josh got into the car. God, keep him safe and work within him. Let him once more know Your love and peace.

  8

  Jess drove her parents back from the airport, somehow enduring the third degree interrogation that they’d started the instant they got into the car.

  “So what’s he like?” Da asked from the backseat.

  “Cute,” she replied.

  “Cute isn’t an answer,” Mam told her. “Or a description. Yr wyf yn meddwl ei bod hi'n hoffi ef.”

  Jess’s face burned. “Even if I did like him, there’s no point. He isn’t staying.”