After leaving the bathroom light on, she’d finally snuggled into the bed. But her eyes popped open when the silence disappeared and the noise of the surrounding forest flooded the room. An urban girl couldn’t begin to identify the sounds, but whatever they were, they would keep her awake.
She’d stared at the bedroom ceiling, listening and praying, until, at long last, sleep defeated fear.
But she’d made it. She drained the last of the juice. She’d conquered the dark, the silence and the noise. Now she had a full day ahead of her. She grabbed her sketchbook and shoes and stepped outside. If she lived in a forest, she may as well make use of it.
Pine needles rustled underfoot as Judith went into the dense woods. Although there was no discernible path, she was able to pass through the undergrowth with little difficulty. A few steps at a time were all she needed, for each stopping point revealed new wonders; a circle of toadstools, vines that wrapped themselves around towering trees, and decomposing logs that flaunted colorful fungus.
Heedless of the dirt, she crouched close to the forest floor, her pencil racing over the pages of her sketchbook until they overflowed with detailed drawings of the small marvels she found.
She pushed farther into the woods, not noticing the branches that slapped against her face, until she reached a clearing. Settling against a fallen log, she quieted her mind and let her senses absorb her surroundings.
There, the call of a crow and the buzzing of insects. Nearby, the sound of a small animal burrowing amid the dry leaves. Overhead, the wind’s song as it danced amid the treetops.
She took a deep breath of the pine-scented air and resumed her sketching. The light that filtered through the canopy seemed to sanctify the small clearing, as though she’d stumbled into nature’s cathedral.
Had her mother been here when she’d been a girl? Had she played among the trees, picked wildflowers, or dreamed here?
She prayed here.
The thought formed in her mind, not as a spoken answer, but as response to Judith’s question. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered.
A sense of well-being washed over her and she lifted her face to the sun. Once again, the Proverb had been proven right. Judith’s heart had led her this way, but the Lord had directed her steps.
****
It was late morning when Jacob parked his truck behind Judith’s sports car. He stepped onto the porch of her grandfather’s cabin and knocked loudly on the screen door.
No one answered.
“Judith?” he called loudly.
Still no answer.
She couldn’t have gone too far. He settled into a rocking chair. But a few minutes later, a troubling thought crossed his mind. What if Judith was in the cabin, but hurt? He wasn’t one to trespass, but a quick look through the cabin wouldn’t hurt anything. If she was hurt, it would be a good thing he checked, and if she wasn’t in the cabin, no one would know.
Surely, she hadn’t gone exploring in the woods by herself. A city girl like Judith would get lost in the maze of pines. After all, the forest didn’t exactly have street signs or a marker with an arrow pointing towards civilization. She was most likely in the cabin. After another minute of debate, he sprang from the rocker and stepped inside.
One look at the artwork taped to the walls stopped him in his tracks. “Holy cow.” On every wall were photographs of fairies. No…that couldn’t be right. No one could take a photograph of a fairy. He stepped closer to inspect the picture. It was a painting. A painting so realistic, it looked like a photograph.
“Good morning, Mr. Fraser.”
Jacob jumped and turned to see her stern face.
“You didn’t touch any of those, did you?”
“What? Oh…no. I…uh…”
Judith arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms in front of her, waiting for him to explain.
“Sorry,” Jacob said as he straightened and faced her. “I came out to give you the mechanic’s name and number. You left the diner before I could give them to you.”
“And you decided to make yourself at home? Is that common practice in Piney Meadow?”
“It’s not uncommon when you’re visiting a friend’s house, but I thought you might be hurt. So, I, uh…” Jacob studied Judith’s serious face. Was she really angry to find him in her cabin?
Just when he thought he’d have to apologize, her stern frown melted into a mischievous grin. “Well…I suppose I can overlook trespassing this time.”
He relaxed with a smile of his own.
“So, what do you think of the paintings?” Judith asked.
Jacob turned back to the wall. “These are amazing. They look just like photographs. Who did these?”
“Who do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s what I do for a living. Remember?”
“You told me you drew pictures for children’s books.”
“Uh-huh. These are for a book about fairies.”
She stepped beside him and he caught the faint scent of gardenias. Not an overpowering perfume, but a feminine scent that matched the attractive woman who stood next to him.
“I’ve got the paintings laid out in the order of the pages,” Judith explained. “The whole book is about how fairies are real and live among humans in secret.”
“I love this one,” Jacob said, tearing his gaze away from her and pointing towards fairies playing in a department store.
“How many fairies can you find in that picture?”
Jacob narrowed his eyes and studied the artwork. “One on the mannequin, two on the light fixture, one behind the perfume bottle…”
“That’s good,” Judith complimented him. “There are two more. Want a hint?”
“Give me a minute.”
From the corner of his eye, Jacob could see Judith watching him as he inspected her painting. “In the shoes. And they look like they’re having a great time.”
“I only have three more paintings to go. But the publisher has OKed the thumbnails and sketches, so now all I have to do is finish.”
Jacob gestured to the drawing board beside the largest window. “You’re going to work out here?”
“That’s the plan. The first part of the book was about urban fairies, the middle part about suburban fairies, and the last part is about—”
“Rural fairies?” Jacob finished for her.
“Exactly. I thought I’d take advantage of living in a forest to get some ideas. I went out sketching this morning.”
“You went by yourself?”
“Sure.”
“Good thing you didn’t get lost.”
“I may be from the city, but I did remember to bring my brain with me.”
In other words, don’t underestimate Judith Robertson. Jacob gestured towards the sketchbook tucked under her arm. “May I take a look?”
“Sure, help yourself.” She handed it to him. “Can I offer you something to drink?” she said over her shoulder.
“Got any coffee?”
“Sorry, don’t drink coffee. How about a soft drink?”
“Fine.” Jacob leafed through the sketchbook, stunned by the intricate drawings. He chuckled at the fairies using acorn caps to slide down snow-covered hills and the cross-section of a pine that served as a high rise apartment building. “These are amazing, Judith. You did this with just a pencil?”
“Yep. Glad you like them.” She handed the drink to him and their gazes connected.
An awkward moment of silence stretched between them as an unspoken current of attraction sparked.
Did Judith feel it, too, Jacob wondered, or was he making a fool of himself by staring into her dark eyes?
“So, do you have that phone number for me?” Judith asked.
Apparently the attraction was all one-sided. “Oh, yeah,” Jacob answered, fishing his cell phone from his pocket. He pushed some buttons and handed it to Judith.
She jotted down the number and returned his phone. “Thanks. I’ll give the mecha
nic a call and take the truck in. Do you think he’ll give me a ride back here?”
“Probably. But my mother wants to invite you to Sunday dinner. If you’d like, I can meet you at the mechanic’s and after dinner, bring you back here.”
Judith took in a quick, sharp breath. Her gaze darted from Jacob to the front door and back again. “Why does your mother want to meet me?”
“She knew your mother when they were both girls. She says she hasn’t seen you since you grew up.”
Judith’s eyebrows drew together and she rubbed her palms on the legs of her jeans. “Will it just be your mother, you, and me?”
“No, my whole family meets at my parents’ house after church.”
“The whole family? Didn’t you say you had two brothers and two sisters?”
“That’s right. They’ll be there with their wives, husbands, and kids.”
Judith’s eyes widened and she stepped away from Jacob.
He closed the sketchbook and handed it back to her. “Are you all right, Judith?”
She let out a shaky breath. “I’m fine.”
Jacob returned his gaze to the art work on the wall. For a few minutes, Judith had been relaxed, even playful. But at the mention of a family dinner, she’d reverted to the same nervous woman he’d met last week. “This picture is really clever.” Jacob nodded to the first illustration. “I love the idea of teams of fairies playing aerial baseball. But these fairies over here are causing a lot of trouble.”
Judith stepped next to him to look at the scene he indicated.
“Messing with the traffic lights is going to lead to chaos.” Jacob grinned at her.
“It’s my explanation of why the Dallas traffic is so awful.”
“Must be the fairies.”
“Must be.”
Judith gazed up at him and smiled. “Thanks for inviting me to your family’s Sunday dinner. What time should I meet you at the mechanic’s?” She’d beaten back whatever had made her anxious.
That was twice now Jacob had seen her afraid, but proceeding nonetheless. Judith had courage. “Church usually lets out around noon. How about I meet you at twelve-thirty?”
Judith nodded her agreement. “OK. I’ll see you then.”
Jacob headed towards the door, and then stopped and turned back to her. “Just one more thing. When you’re at my parents’ house on Sunday, you’re going to have to call me Jacob.”
“Why’s that, Mr. Fraser?”
“Because the house will be full of Frasers. If you call me Mr. Fraser, no one will know if you’re talking to me, my brothers, or my father.”
She pursed her lips in thought. “I’ll think about that.”
“You do that, Miss Robertson,” he said. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”
****
Jacob’s truck drove away in a plume of red dust.
She’d be meeting his family in a few days.
Another opportunity the Lord had put in her path. Large social groups could be especially challenging—so many people wanting so many things, and all of them talking about next to nothing.
She’d always avoided large parties, but she was determined to change her solitary ways. Dinner with the Frasers was as good a place to start as any.
It should be interesting to talk to Jacob’s mother. Other than the stories her grandfather had told her, Judith knew little about her mother’s early life. But did Jacob’s mother know the details of Mom’s death?
Judith squeezed her eyes shut. Every second of that awful day was permanently etched in her memory. Judith wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her head. “Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid,” she murmured. That verse from the Book of John had comforted her many times. She whispered the verse again and waited for the pain in her chest to subside.
Like drops of water melting off an icicle, grief and guilt slowly loosened their hold on Judith.
Then the Lord blessed her with a memory.
Christmas. The house smelled of the fresh evergreen tree they’d yet to decorate, and patches of snow covered the yard. Her mother, young and carefree, helped Judith make Christmas cookies. How her mother had laughed when Judith insisted they use the cookie cutters from Halloween. “Stars and snowflakes,” her mother had said between giggles. “The wise men didn’t bring scarecrows and pumpkins.”
Someday Judith wanted to make cookies with her own children. But that dream would never come true if she settled for a life of fear. A rush of air escaped her lungs. She could have lunch with the Frasers. She could even learn to like it.
4
Judith awoke the next morning to the sound of a prowler. Someone, or something, was pacing the length of the narrow front porch. Her pulse thundered in her ears and she struggled to listen as the footsteps first crept, then sped across the front of the cabin, followed by what she swore was a child’s giggle.
Judith eased herself out of bed and tiptoed on shaky legs to the kitchen. Half hiding behind the cabinets, she watched the uncovered front window, trying to determine who, or what, had decided to visit her.
Less than a minute later, a dark head passed along the bottom of the window frame.
Her fear vanished as she realized there was a child on her front porch. As Judith neared the front door, she saw a small, dark-skinned girl, crouched on all fours. Judith cracked open the door and met the girl’s round-eyed, startled gaze. “I see I have a visitor.”
The girl sprang to her feet, the startled look dissolving into a wide smile of perfectly formed teeth. “Mornin’,” she said, beaming up like sunlight on morning dew. “Do you always sleep so late?”
“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Judith answered, barely able to keep from laughing. “What’s that under your shirt?”
The girl tightened her grasp on the wriggling lump near her stomach. “Nothin’. Are you Mr. Isaiah’s granddaughter?”
“That’s me. My name’s Judith.”
“Judith?” The girl rolled the name around her mouth like a candy she’d never tasted. “Is that a Bible name? Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pretty name and all, but it sounds so serious. Like someone who’s at least a hundred years old.”
“What’s your name?”
“Keneisha,” the young visitor announced with pride. “Keneisha Lewis.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The girl’s eyes grew wider and she bent at the waist. “Ouch! Quit moving around, will you?”
“That nothing under your shirt wants to get out. I think you’d better tell me what it is.”
“It’s just a little kitten,” Keneisha explained as she freed the animal and lifted it up to Judith’s face. “I brung it for you.”
The orange-and-white kitten hung helplessly from Keneisha’s hands, its back legs pushing against the empty air as it struggled against the girl’s tight grasp.
Concern for the animal swept through Judith as she gingerly accepted Keneisha’s gift. “I’ve never had a pet before. Are you sure it’s OK with your mother?”
“Sure it is. She don’t care. She said to tell you she’ll be by later with some things from the garden.”
Judith snuggled the kitten into the crook of her arm and ran a finger along the top of its tiny head. “Do you live close by, Keneisha?”
“Yep.” The girl pointed towards the back of the cabin. “You go through those woods there, and then follow the dirt road to our house. Can’t miss it. Can I come in?” Shyness was foreign to Keneisha.
“I guess so,” Judith answered. “You’ll have to teach me how to take care of this kitten. Does it have a name?”
“Not yet,” the girl answered as she followed Judith into the cabin. “I decided to let you name it. But Pumpkin would be an awful good name because it’s orange like a jack-o-lantern.”
Judith spooned a bit of tuna into a shallow bowl and set it and the kitten on the kitchen floor.
The kitten took in its surroundings, tested its feet on the worn vinyl, and promptly scampered out of
the room and under the couch.
Keneisha giggled at the cat’s antics. “That crazy little cat don’t want the food.”
Judith frowned at the spot where the cat had disappeared. “Do you think it’s OK under there?”
“Sure. It’ll come out after it stops being scared. You got any ice cream?”
“For the cat?”
“No,” Keneisha said between giggles. “For me.”
“Oh. No, sorry. No ice cream. How about a drink?”
“Got any soda? I love a good, cold soda.”
Judith retrieved the drink for her new friend and passed it to her. “You sure your mother won’t be worried about you? Does she know you’re over here?”
“Nah, she don’t worry. She knows I can take care of myself.” Keneisha opened the can and took a long drink.
“How old are you, Keneisha?”
“Nine. How old are you?”
“Seventy-five.” Judith struggled to keep a straight face.
“Wow. That’s even older than my momma. You must be about to die or something.”
“Never know,” Judith said. “Now finish that drink while I get dressed. Then I want you to show me where you live. Plus, you have to tell me how to take care of Pumpkin.”
“You gonna name that cat Pumpkin? Hot dog! I told you that would be a good name.”
A few minutes later, Judith followed Keneisha along a rough path through the forest until she stepped onto a dusty, red dirt road.
“That’s our house there,” the girl said, pointing to a small metal-roofed frame house at the end of the road. “I’ll tell my momma you’ve come to pay us a visit.”
The girl skipped ahead of Judith, her black braids bouncing happily as she called to her mother. As she ran to the garden patch beside the house, a woman rose from her knees and turned to face the road. Shading her eyes with one hand, she waved the other in a wide arc above her head. “Come on, Miss Judith! You saved me a trip.”
From The Ashes Page 4
