Down by the River

by Lin Stepp

  He held out a hand. “So, as Jo plays the piano, I want those of you whom God is nudging and touching to come down front here to take my hand and to pray with me. And I ask those still in your seats to remain quietly and to pray until the Lord is finished with all He has to do here.”

  Jo began playing the old hymn “Just as I Am,” and Jack’s brow broke out in a sweat. He knew the pull of God on his own heart and he knew God was dealing with him. It was just a matter of whether or not he was ready to yield to that pull.

  He sat and thought of the promises he’d made to his mother and of the desires he had to see if change could really work for him, and made his decision. He stood up.

  As he started to move to his left in front of Margaret’s knees, he looked down to see her weeping and clenching her hands in her lap. He leaned down and spoke to her. “I dare you to go down front with me, Margaret. You know God is dealing with you.”

  Her eyes jerked up to his in anguish.

  Jack felt a wrench on his heartstrings at the look on her face, and he reached down his hand to hers. She grasped it like a lifeline, and he pulled her to her feet. Together, they moved out into the aisle and started down front to see if God could really change their lives as they hoped.

  CHAPTER 17

  Grace decided she would remember this week of her life, in amazement, for years to come. She’d never been to a revival in her entire church life, but she certainly had witnessed one on Sunday morning. Furthermore, it was her daughter who’d been one of the ones to give her life to the Lord that morning. Even more incredible, she’d watched Margaret walk down front to the altar, weeping with emotion, and holding Jack Teague’s arm.

  She’d heard what Jack had hissed at Margaret before he started out of the pew. Grace had been so caught up in the pastor’s message she hadn’t even noticed Margaret was upset and crying. She now knew the term was “under conviction.” Unlike Jack, Grace probably wouldn’t have realized what Margaret needed to do at the moment or why she was so upset. She owed Jack for that, she guessed.

  The back door opened, and Vincent came into the kitchen.

  “Hi, stranger,” she greeted him. “When did you get back?”

  “Late last night. I flew back to Montreat with Grady on Sunday and spoke at several meetings going on at the assembly grounds.” Vincent grinned. “It was Grady’s payback for his coming down here to preach. I also enjoyed some time with my family.”

  Grace looked up at Vincent with a question in her eyes. “Did you know what Reverend Hartwell was going to preach here?”

  Vince shook his head. “No. I just wanted him to come down and see my little church, meet some of my congregation. Grady is my dad’s cousin. Maybe you didn’t know that.”

  “No, I don’t think you mentioned it.”

  Vincent got a cup of coffee, helped himself to an apple muffin from the warmer, and sat down at the kitchen table with Grace.

  He looked around. “Is Margaret here?”

  “No. Margaret has already left for the office. She’s still working over at the realty while Althea is recovering.”

  Vincent spread apple butter over his muffin and took a bite. Then he grinned at Grace. “How’s Margaret doing?”

  Grace shook her head. “She’s been different, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Different how?” Vince stirred cream and sugar into his coffee.

  “Charged, excited, animated. Like she gets when she has a new enthusiasm.” Grace gave Vincent a direct look then. “You’d better not tell her what I said, you hear?”

  “Scout’s honor,” he promised. “I hated it that I had to leave after what happened Sunday. I’ve missed all the fun.”

  “I suppose it has been fun.” Grace considered that. “It’s a joy to hear Margaret excited about Christianity … see her reading her Bible, hunting for religious programs on television to watch, studying spiritual books, talking about faith. It’s hard to believe she’s the same girl who used to balk at going to church at all and who literally made fun of me for going to church groups and Bible studies.”

  Vincent smiled widely, the dimple in his chin deepening. “Isn’t God something? He’s just a constant amazement to me.”

  Grace frowned. “It seems like more happened to Margaret in that prayer with Reverend Hartwell than simply deciding to become a Christian.”

  “More did, Grace. God has a call on Margaret’s life, and He’s starting His work on her.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

  “I heard Grady’s prayer with her, for one thing. The rest I saw. It was powerful what happened to Margaret on Sunday.” He spread more apple butter over his muffin. “There will be more change to come.”

  “I assume it will all be good.” Grace frowned at the thought.

  “How can you ask?” Vincent looked up at her in surprise.

  “I don’t know. It just seems sort of overwhelming, seeing Margaret go through such a transformation. I don’t remember an experience like that when I got converted.”

  Vincent smiled and reached across to pat Grace’s hand. “Don’t worry, Grace. Margaret’s coming to know God more closely will only strengthen the love and bond between you two. She won’t grow away from you; she’ll grow closer to you.”

  Grace smiled back at him. “You always seem to know what my worries are before I express them, Vincent.”

  “How about Jack? Has there been a lot of change in him this week, too?”

  “Margaret says she and Jack are talking about the Bible and about faith some at the office. That’s about all that I know.” She looked down at the open newspaper on the table then to avoid Vincent’s gaze.

  “You and Jack still haven’t sorted out that problem from when Althea had her heart attack, have you?”

  Feeling prickly over that comment, Grace got up to carry her coffee cup to the sink. “That isn’t your concern to worry over, Vincent.”

  “I know, but I’m fond of Jack.”

  “Everyone is fond of Jack.” Grace knew the words sounded sarcastic as soon as they were out of her mouth.

  Vincent shook his head, got up, and followed Grace across the kitchen. He turned her face to look at him. “God has made changes in Jack, too, Grace. Be as ready to forgive and to give Jack a second chance as God has.”

  Tears smarted in Grace’s eyes. “This is a personal issue, Vincent.”

  “I know,” he said, going over to sit back down at the table. “I should keep my oar out of this. But I’d like to see things work out between you and Jack. I think there’s something special between the two of you.”

  Grace didn’t reply to that. She wasn’t sure if the statement was even true. She’d thought so once, but now she didn’t know what to think anymore.

  Vincent looked at his watch. “Did Margaret eat much before she went to work?”

  “No. She took off without eating at all. I wish she hadn’t. It isn’t healthy.”

  A smile lit Vince’s face. “If it’s okay, I’ll take her over a few of these muffins. I’d like to see her, and it would give me an excuse to stop over at the office.”

  Grace smiled in spite of herself. “You do that, dear. I’ll wrap them up for you. And I’ll send her some juice, too.”

  She let Vincent out the back door and then sat down at the kitchen table to consider some of the things he’d said. Thinking about Jack, in particular, was painful. She’d grown accustomed to seeing him, to spending time with him, and she missed his company. It was silly, when she’d only known him since May. But it was true.

  Trying to divert her mind, Grace went over to her desk to get some materials to work on and brought them back to the table. She was hosting the Townsend book club for lunch next week at the inn, and she needed to plan the menu and think about how to decorate the tables. It was Friday now, also, and she had guests coming in to the inn for the weekend. She needed to bake and to get the rooms ready. This afternoon, she also needed to help Kyleen Clark open the craft shop
. With the shop growing busier than Grace had expected, Kyleen had started helping Grace part-time. This arrangement had worked out well for both of them. With the inn so busy, Grace really didn’t have time to be in two places at once as her guests started to arrive.

  Grace was looking through her recipe box for the directions for a coffee cake she wanted to bake for breakfast in the morning, when she heard a soft little knock at the back door. She looked up to see Morgan peering through the glass door.

  “Come in.” Grace waved at her. She hadn’t locked the door after Vincent left.

  Morgan came in and wandered over to the table.

  “What are you doing, Ms. Grace?”

  “Hunting for a recipe I want to make for my bed-and-breakfast guests who are coming in tonight.” She smiled at Morgan. “There are still a few apple muffins in the warmer on the counter if you want one.”

  “Okay.” Morgan headed for the counter. “Can I get a glass of juice, too?”

  “Sure. Where’s Meredith?”

  Morgan’s reply was snippy. “We don’t always do everything together, Meredith and I. She’s down at Stacy Clark’s house visiting.”

  It wasn’t like Morgan to be cross and out of sorts.

  “Is anything wrong, Morgan?”

  “No.” She bit out her reply as she slumped into a seat at the table across from Grace. “I can go if you don’t want me to visit.”

  Grace smiled to herself. Morgan was so much like Jack, irritable and out-of-sorts when she had something on her mind.

  “You know I’m always happy for you to visit.” Grace reached over to pat Morgan on the hand.

  “Morgan, while you’re eating your muffin, maybe you could look over this list of outdoor badges and tell me which ones you think the girls would most like to work on.” Grace pushed the list and her Scout book across the table to Morgan and then went back to her search in the recipe box. The child would talk when she was ready.

  Morgan ate her muffin and looked through the Scout book at the badges Grace had listed and flagged. “I think everyone would like to do the camping badge.” She pointed at the page. “And we’ve all been talking about wanting to do a badge about rocks—so we can visit Tuckaleechee Caverns as a troop.” She showed Grace that page also.

  “Those are good ones to consider, Morgan. I think I’ll put those two badges, and a few others, on my list and then let everyone vote for the badges we’ll work on this fall.”

  “That would be good.” Morgan continued to fiddle through the book, but Grace could tell her mind was on something else now.

  “Grace?” she asked at last. “Do you think my mom is dead?”

  Grace took a deep breath. “Why do you ask that, Morgan?” She wasn’t sure how she was going to handle this conversation.

  “Well, I know Daddy has always said she’s dead. But I think he just said that so we wouldn’t be hurt, knowing she left Mer and me.”

  “What makes you think that, Morgan?”

  “An old memory,” she admitted. “Once when I was little, I was snooping in Dad’s office and saw this letter lying open from Celine somebody. I sort of looked at it. I could only read a little bit then. And because I didn’t know who Celine was, I didn’t pay much attention to it. Then, I guess, I sort of forgot it.”

  She hung her head. “Now I know from something Aunt Samantha said that my mother’s name was Celine. Dead people don’t write letters, Ms. Grace. I got to remembering that letter and got to wondering.”

  “Those are pretty heavy things to think about, Morgan.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I didn’t bring Mer with me. She doesn’t know. And she’s kind of sensitive and gets upset easily about stuff. I wanted to talk with you by myself about this first.”

  “I think this is really something you should talk about with your father, Morgan. I didn’t even live here when you children were small.”

  Morgan looked up in alarm. “You won’t tell Daddy I came over here to ask you about my mother, will you, Ms. Grace?”

  “No. But I think you should talk to your father about this. If he was trying to be protective with you and Meredith, he’ll tell you that now. He knows you’re older. I think you can trust him to tell you the truth, whatever it is.”

  “You don’t think he’ll get mad?” Morgan bit on a nail nervously.

  “No, honey, he loves you. He won’t get mad.” Grace smiled at Morgan.

  Morgan fiddled restlessly with the Scout book. “Thanks for saying you wouldn’t tell him, Ms. Grace.”

  “I might not always promise that, Morgan. I would never keep anything from your father that he would really need to know to keep you safe or to help you.” She caught Morgan’s eye. “And I will expect you to talk to your father soon about this, or I might feel I should tell him after all. You shouldn’t carry a worry and concern like this around with you for long, Morgan.”

  Morgan nodded. “It’s funny to think we might have a mother living somewhere.” Morgan chewed on her lip. “I’d like to know her if she’s still alive. Even if she left us. Does that sound stupid?”

  “No, that sounds normal. Every child wonders about his or her parents and what they might be like if they haven’t known them.”

  “Dad won’t think it means I don’t love him that I’m wondering about our mother?” She looked up at Grace with worried eyes.

  “No, not at all. He’ll understand.”

  Morgan blew out a breath of relief. “I guess I’ll talk to him tonight.” She looked up at Grace with a grin then. “Thanks, Ms. Grace.”

  Grace smiled at her.

  Morgan hopped up from her chair then. “I think I’ll go up to Stacy’s house now and see what she and Mer are doing.”

  “I’ll walk out with you. I need to take Sadie and Dooley outside, anyway.”

  Grace saw Morgan and the dogs outside. Sadie and Dooley took off madly chasing each other down the backyard, and Grace laughed to watch them. Morgan played with them, laughing, for a few moments before she took off skipping down Creekside Lane—obviously in a lighter mood now.

  As Grace sat on the back steps in the sunshine, watching the dogs play, she naturally thought about Jack. She wondered how he would handle his talk with Morgan later—wondered if telling his daughter about Celine would hurt him. Getting up from the steps, she strolled down the back drive toward the mailbox. The mail had run, and she needed to check the box before she called the dogs and took them back in. As she passed the shop, she saw an envelope taped to the front door.

  Grace walked up the steps to retrieve it, opened it up—and then dropped it in alarm as she realized what it was. Another message from Crazy Man—and a truly frightening one. Her heart beat madly as she bent down to pick the envelope back up. Grace called the dogs and took them quickly into the house. In the kitchen, she paced back and forth, thinking about the message she’d received. Then she went to the phone and called Jack’s cell. She needed his help to know what to do.

  “Jack here,” he said, answering the phone congenially.

  “It’s Grace.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. “I’ve had another note from Crazy Man. I’m afraid, Jack. Can you come over?”

  “I’m ten minutes up the highway from you, Grace. Lock the doors until I get there.”

  Grace did, and when she heard Jack’s car and then his knock a little later, she opened the front door to him with tears in her eyes and flung herself into his arms. He held her close and said soothing things to her, and it felt like coming home. Grace leaned fully into him and let her senses take in the male scent of him and the musky undertones of the familiar cologne he always wore. A side of her knew she was staying in his arms a little longer than she needed to, but she really didn’t care at the moment.

  He pulled back from her at last, reaching out to wipe off a few stray tears from her face with his thumb. Jack’s eyes were tender as he looked down into her face. But the smile he gave her was as devilishly handsome and irresistible as she remembered.

 
“Remind me to thank Crazy Man later for this,” he said, grinning.

  “Oh, you!” Grace pulled away and glared at him. “This is serious, Jack.”

  “I know it is, or you wouldn’t have called me. Tell me about the note.”

  “It’s in the kitchen.” She turned and started down the hall. “Come back and I’ll show it to you.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, where she picked up the note from the kitchen table. She read Jack the words with a shaky voice. “Protect your girl. There are wicked men around here.”

  The words were written in the usual black marker, but were plastered across a collage of cutouts from area newspapers telling of rapes and murders of young girls. Grace handed the note to Jack to look at, her hands still shaking.

  “Confound it.” Jack studied the note with an angry frown. “That man’s crossed the line with this one.”

  Jack reached out a hand to steady Grace’s and urged her into one of the kitchen chairs. “Where did you find this, Grace?”

  She told him.

  “I’m going to call the sheriff,” he said. “And we’ll need to talk to Margaret.”

  “Oh, do we have to, Jack? I don’t want her upset and frightened!”

  “She needs to be on the alert, Grace. We can’t know what this message means. And we both know Margaret has had more sightings of Crazy Man than anyone. She told me the other day she’d felt someone was following her when she walked down to visit Jo Carson. And last week she said she got ‘creeped out,’ as she put it, while she and Vince sat out on the stone bench by the creek talking. She suddenly felt like someone was watching them.”

  “I hate that this has happened right now.” Grace dropped her head into her hands. “This has been such a happy week for Margaret. I hate to spoil it.”