by Lynne Gentry
David blew out an exasperated sigh and snatched up the Bible. His father had underlined the verse in red ink. “So?” He pushed it back at her.
“So, doing kind things for others is what pleases the Lord.” Momma sat in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “And that, James David, is never a fail.”
“Momma, don’t you get it? All is lost.” David raked his hair. “Ollie left town before I could offer to represent him. Ruthie believes since she failed to raise her daughter, she’ll fail at raising Angus.” David had never felt so hopelessly cold and red-hot mad at the same time. “We lost, Momma. We have to move.”
“David, I’d live under the overpass myself if it would make things better between Maxine and Howard. They’ve got to work this out. And they will. They love each other.” Momma leaned forward. “My advice to you was wrong. Getting mixed up with Angus is exactly what your father would have done.”
“Obviously he knew how to clean up his messes, because he lasted eighteen years.”
“Your father lasted until his work here was done.”
“This is as good as it gets?”
Momma shrugged. “Cornelia is going to live. On the positive side, you won’t have to avoid dark baptistry rooms for the rest of your life.”
“I love you, Momma.”
“And I have never been prouder of you, son.”
“What am I going to tell Amy?” David asked. “We were planning a life here.”
“I think you don’t need my advice on this one.” Momma stood. “Oh, I almost forgot why I popped over. I promised Saul we’d settle J.D.’s estate after Christmas. I made an appointment. He’s expecting us in thirty minutes.”
Another punch landed in David’s gut. “Let me close up.” He stood and let his gaze take in the serenity of his father’s office one last time. “Wouldn’t want vagrants to get in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Leona eased the van into the last parking space in front of Dewey Hardware. Hands gripping the wheel, she let the engine idle. The heater never had warmed up and her feet were frozen. She’d sounded brave for her children’s sake, but her insides coiled in fear. She loved this town. She loved Mt. Hope Community Church. And she loved the house she’d lived in the past eighteen years. She’d made the parsonage into a home. Leaving everything she knew terrified her.
“Momma?” Maddie’s hand touched her shoulder. “Ready?”
Leona glanced at Maddie’s supportive face in the rearview mirror. “Sure.” She let her gaze slide to her stoic son riding shotgun. “A change could do us all some good. Right, David?”
“Hope you’re right,” he sighed. “’Cause it doesn’t look like we have a choice.”
Together, the Harper family climbed the steps to the lawyer’s office. Juanita, the secretary Saul had inherited when he bought the firm, led them to the conference room. “Anyone need coffee?” she asked.
“We’re good, Juanita. Thanks,” Leona said.
David pulled out a chair. “Here, Momma.”
Leona sat facing the windows, her forearms resting on the table for support. David and Maddie flanked her on either side. Leona reached out and took each of their hands.
Two minutes later, Saul came in, a thick file resting in the crook of his elbow. “Things back to normal at the church?”
Leona felt David stiffen. “Pretty much.”
Saul dropped the file on the table. “The judge tells me that because Ollie left a note saying the pot was his, proving Angus had no knowledge of his ... activities ... David was able to get the boy off with a light sentence of community service.” Saul took his place at the head of the table. “I guess all is forgiven then?”
“Except by Maxine,” Leona said. “The Board is voting this evening.”
“On what?” Saul asked.
“On whether the Harpers go or stay.” David’s terse tone told Leona he was taking this harder than she would have expected.
“It should be an easy decision then.”
“Maxine has already secured the support she needs to have us removed,” Leona said.
Saul’s face sobered. “That’s a shame.”
“Don’t worry about us,” David said. “We’ll be fine.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that.” Saul clasped his hands over the file. A rare look of compassion came over his face. “It’s just that I hate to think of Mt. Hope losing such a fine family.”
Leona tried to swallow the terror creeping up her throat. “Thank you, Saul.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” Leona said firmly. “But thanks.”
“Not only have you and J.D. blessed my life, Leona”—Saul turned his attention to David—“I believe your son has a gift for the pulpit and I would hate to see that gift wasted.”
“That’s kind of you, Saul,” Leona whispered, fighting tears at the actual reality sinking in. She was moving. After eighteen years, she was leaving the community she’d come to love and she thought loved her. “The Lord never wastes anything we give him with our whole heart.”
“Can we wrap this up?” David asked. “We’ve got a lot of packing to do and I’ve got to rent a U-Haul before they close.”
“You can afford professional packers if you want.” Saul tapped the file. “Or you can even afford to buy the parsonage if you’d rather not move.”
“What are you talking about?” David asked.
“I believe you can make the church a handsome offer if you want to keep your house, Leona. An offer even Maxine Davis could not refuse.”
“I couldn’t put a down payment on a pup tent, Saul.” Leona said. “What makes you think I could possibly buy the parsonage?”
“This.” Saul opened the file and handed her a piece of paper edged in a beautiful scroll. A certificate of stock ownership. “You are a very wealthy woman, Leona.”
Leona’s heart stopped. She didn’t blink. She didn’t move. It was as if someone had shoved her head under water and she couldn’t breathe.
“What did you say?” David’s garbled question was the very one she would have asked if she could speak.
“The TauRx shares J.D. left you are worth millions. Fifteen million to be exact.”
Leona came up for air and sputtered, “I don’t understand.”
“J.D. invested a small monthly amount in this particular pharmaceutical stock.” Saul handed her a piece of paper with so many dollar signs and zeros her eyes blurred. “Pennies on the dollar, really.”
Maddie assumed a wary posture. “How would Dad even know about this company?”
“Cotton.” Leona’s mind retraced all the times she’d caught the church janitor and J.D. huddled together. Once she’d even seen them looking at a file, a file Cotton had said contained notes to a Bible study he was considering. She intended to track Cotton down at the church. Whether she’d hug him or kick him for helping J.D. keep her in the dark she didn’t know. “Cotton’s rich too, isn’t he?”
Saul gave her the same don’t-go-there look David had given her at the diner. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the financial affairs of your very wise, retired-banker friend.”
“And all this time Mother thought falling in love with Cotton meant she’d finally learned to be self-sacrificing.” Leona busted out laughing. “The woman can’t lose, can she? Everything she touches turns to gold.”
“Including men,” David said.
“The same can be said of you, Leona.” Saul passed more stacks of paper around the table. “Should this promising new Alzheimer drug pass FDA approval, your wealth could more than double overnight.”
Leona and the kids flipped through the papers. When she got to the bottom line, she grabbed the hands of her children to keep from sliding from her seat. “We can go anywhere we want.”
Maddie squeezed her back. “I’d loved the hospital in New York, but didn’t think I could ever afford to live there.”
Leona smiled. “Baby, we can afford for you to do your residency on
the moon if that’s what you want.” She turned to David. “Where do you want to go? Back to England? Another degree from Harvard? Name it.”
David pulled his hand away. “I don’t know, Momma.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
David sat on the front pew in the quiet sanctuary, his father’s shoes dangling from his crooked fingers. He stared up at the empty pulpit framed in the sunlight streaming through the stained glass window. He’d fought his love-hate relationship with this huge hunk of carved wood for as long as he could remember. Why couldn’t he shake the hold this pulpit had on him? Especially now that God had just dumped a truck-load of manna. So much money that he would never have to work again, let alone preach for a dying West Texas church in order to keep a roof over his mother’s head. And yet, here he was, unable to walk away. Why?
“Leona said I’d find you here.” Amy’s hand caressed the back of his neck.
David dropped his father’s shoes and gave her a weary smile over his shoulder. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She came around the pew and sat beside him. “Deep in prayer?”
“Deep in battle.”
Her brow knit in confusion. “You won.”
“It’s crazy, I know, but it doesn’t feel like a victory.”
“The board voted to keep you.”
“How crazy is that? Especially after the Christmas Eve fiasco.”
“I guess Hank and Harold aren’t the puppets Maxine believed them to be after all.”
“That, and I’m pretty sure Howard is still mad at Maxine,” David added.
“You think Howard voted to have you ordained as the permanent pastor to get even with his wife?”
David shrugged. “Like you said, grief-based anger isn’t always rational.”
Amy leaned forward and took him by the chin. “So I’m guessing this long face, the handsome one I want to kiss by the way, isn’t about how the board voted?”
He sighed. “I’m not sure how I’m going to vote.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Your family can afford to go anywhere.”
David’s head whipped around. “You’re the only one I’ve told about the money.”
Amy dragged her fingers across her lips like she was closing a zipper. “The Harper secret is safe with me.”
“Momma deserves a little time to process all of this. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s rich. She says they’ll treat her different once they find out.”
“So she’s staying?”
“I don’t know.”
“She could buy the parsonage.”
“She could buy this church and this whole town, if that’s what she wants,” David said. “I don’t know what she’ll do.”
“Will she at least buy a new van?”
David gave her a half-hearted chuckle. “Not until the engine falls out of that one.”
“David, look at me.” Amy took his hand. “Don’t stay because of me.”
“We’ve been through all that,” David said, the possibility of losing her snapping him from his distraction. “I love you.”
“I think you love the idea of you and me changing this church.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“When you thought you were trapped in this one-stoplight-town ...” her voice trailed off.
“You think I fell in love with you because I didn’t have another option?”
“I’m just saying ... I want you to be sure.”
David cupped her face with his hands. “The girl I fell in love with is smart. Tenacious. Honest. And kind. She loves salads and sweet tea and anyone who’s been kicked to the curb.” He wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb. “Whatever God has in store for you, he has in store for me, Amy.”
“David, if you stay to preach, you can’t do it for me, and”—she pointed at his father’s shoes—“and you can’t do it for him.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I know.” He dropped his elbows to his knees and rested his head in his hands. Amy did the same.
Side by side, they sat silently, each contemplating the weight of what was at stake. The baptistry heater kicked on. David’s eyes lifted to the stained glass window and the crucifixion scene that had always fascinated him. The jeweled path started wide at the base, curved around, and disappeared into a tiny point beneath a large cross.
For as long as he could remember, the fear of losing himself had kept him away from this path, the path his father had taken.
David closed his eyes. As he sucked in a labored breath, a small voice whispered that he should look at the scene again. His eyes flew open and his gaze immediately cut to Amy. She was silent, staring straight ahead, like she hadn’t heard or said anything. The instruction to look at the cross had not come from her.
David blinked and dared to look at the scene again. Radiant spears of light burst from the center of the cross and cut straight through him with an illuminating power. This cross that he’d avoided most of his life did not represent persecution but resurrection.
And now, the shafts of light were reaching well past him. They were piercing the darkness of the world. “Salt and light,” a soft voice whispered. It wasn’t a demand from above but rather a gentle whisper from his heart. A whisper he could trust.
Realization, bright as the sun shining through the window, dawned. His days of running in purposeless circles were over.
David picked up his father’s shoes. Without a word of explanation to Amy, he carried them up the steps of the stage and to the podium. He squatted behind the pulpit and peered inside the cavity. The little stepstool waited in the dark. He gently placed his offering of worn-out shoes atop the leg-up his father had built for him. His father’s influence was the bedrock upon which he would always stand. A legacy he would deny no longer. But the calling, the voice beckoning him to step out in faith, was his own.
“Well done, good and faithful servant,” he whispered to the retired footwear. Covered in peace, he rose confidentially. “It’s time I stood on my own two feet.” He strode boldly to the lip of the stage.
Light from the stained glass had shifted. Golden rays framed an angel waiting in the aisle. David smiled at the beautiful woman smiling at him and dropped to one knee. “Amy Maxwell will you marry this imperfect, blundering, stubborn preacher man?”
“I let you go once.” A coy expression danced in her eyes. “But then a handsome young pastor told me I am the kind of girl who never makes the same mistake twice.”
He opened his arms and she ran to him.
EPILOGUE
Late Summer
To the thunderous cheers of a packed sanctuary, Leona blinked away tears as Mr. and Mrs. David Harper danced down the aisle. The wooden pews and stained glass windows of Mt. Hope Community Church had made for a beautiful afternoon wedding. Her son was happy. The members were excited about the church’s future with David and Amy at the helm. And, more than once, she’d seen Maddie glance favorably in Parker’s direction during the wedding. All in all, it had been a wonderful day.
So why the tears?
Leona’s bleary gaze traveled back to the stage. The pastor waiting to deliver the formal reception invitation was not her J.D. Her husband would have loved sharing this day with their family. It had been nearly a year since his death, but time had not lessened her pain. In fact, with each passing moment the ache in her heart seemed to increase. But she refused to let her overwhelming loneliness ruin David’s day. A day she’d prayed for since the moment her son was born. A day she prayed would come to Maddie when she was ready.
After the post-ceremony pictures were finally finished, Leona went to the foyer to give herself a stern talking to before facing a jovial crowd at the reception. She burst through the swinging doors and plowed smack into her husband’s lawyer.
“Sorry, Saul.”
“Leona.” He held her by the shoulders. “Are you all right?” Dressed in a summer linen suit, he didn’t appear as stern as he had whenever the bu
siness of settling J.D.’s affairs summoned her to his office.
She nodded. “A little emotional is all.”
“Weddings are hard.”
“David will be glad you came.”
He released her, but his eyes continued to cut straight through her. “Let’s not fool ourselves.”
Saul was right. He’d grated on her son like nails on a chalkboard from their first meeting. When she’d brought his name up to David, it was quite obvious her son’s opinion of his father’s lawyer hadn’t changed. Truth be known, she had her own reasons for not trusting the man. He’d kept J.D.’s secret from her for years. Miffed as she was at her husband’s lawyer, leaving him off the guest list would have seemed an intentional slight, a slight she couldn’t afford to make until she could figure out a way around J.D.’s little clause that Saul remain her financial and legal advisor.
“Then I’m glad you came.” Which she hoped sounded convincing. “You are coming to the reception, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He started toward the door, then turned. “May I offer you a ride?”
“Mother insists on having Melvin chauffer the family to the country club.” She hadn’t meant to sound so excluding. “But save me a dance.”
“I prefer not to dance.”
“Oh,” Leona stuttered.
“But I do eat cake.” The slight twitch beneath his moustache was almost reminiscent of a smile.
If she didn’t know better, she could’ve sworn Saul had just taken a stab at a joke. A poor one, but an uncharacteristic stab nevertheless. “Then I’ll see you at the dessert table. Bette Bob has outdone herself.”
She was watching Saul march from the church, contemplating why his relationship with her husband grated on her as well, when Maddie’s arm slid through hers.
“David invited Daddy’s attorney?” Maddie asked.
“I did.”
Maddie smiled and sighed, “He is handsome, in a Tom-Selleck-sort-of-way.”
Leona corralled her turbulent emotions before looking at her daughter. The brilliant brain residing beneath those cascading curls would pick up on her low spirits in a heartbeat. “I shouldn’t have let you watch Quigley Down Under so many times with your father.”
