by Irene Brand
One boy lifted his hand. “You anything like Mr. Brown, sir?” he said to David. The boy’s face spread in a wide smile, but behind the smile lurked a hint of uneasiness. “We’re brothers,” David said easily, walking to the table and putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “but I’m not the great guy Bert was.”
“You gonna come here to stay? We’re afraid we’ll get somebody who won’t understand us like Mr. Brown did.”
“We’re just visiting today, but don’t worry. Miss Stollard will see that you get a good replacement for Bert.”
The boy shook his head. “Nobody could take his place.”
Edna directed them to the serving window, where she introduced the cook, Hallie Blackburn, and Anita Bailey, a student, who gave each of them a filled tray.
“You look like your sister,” Anita said to Summer. “She was neat and pretty, too.” She eyed Summer’s pink pants set. “I like your outfit.”
“Thank you,” Summer said, warming to the girl’s admiring glance. “Spring and I do…did,” she corrected herself with a pang in her heart, “look alike.”
They took their trays to a vacant table, where Edna bowed her head and gave thanks for the food. The tray contained a slice of ham, sweet potatoes, green beans, vegetable gelatin salad, two cookies and a carton of white milk. The food tasted good, but the servings were small, and Summer wondered if this was enough nourishment for teenage boys. None of the students seemed overweight. No doubt the school operated on a limited budget.
As they ate, Edna explained that Bert had been the administrator and the chaplain, and Spring had taught and helped in the office. Two retired couples served as supervisors of the dormitories. Two women and one man took care of the teaching. The older students did the cleaning and yard work.
“All of these positions are volunteer,” Edna said, “except for Bert and Spring who were paid a small salary. The cook is also paid, but otherwise, the staff comes on a six-month or one-year volunteer basis.”
“So there isn’t any continuity in the educational program,” David said.
“More than you might imagine,” Edna answered, “as long as we had a good administrator.”
It was almost dark when they left the dining hall, and Edna said, “Would you like to go to the Browns’ home now?”
Summer and David exchanged uncertain glances. Summer wasn’t sure she was ready for that, but the sooner they settled their business here, the sooner they could leave Mountain Glen and hopefully never return.
“Maybe we should,” Summer said.
With Edna in the lead, they walked along a narrow forest path with huge rhododendrons and evergreen trees making a canopy over them. Summer experienced claustrophobia again, and she pressed closer to David. He took her hand and held it until they came to a rustic cabin near the mountain’s edge. Before they went inside, Edna led them to the front of the cabin where they overlooked a spectacular view to the southwest. A smoky haze hung over range after range of mountains that seemed to extend into infinity. With the exception of a few lights sparkling in the distance, marking the existence of a town, the area appeared as it had before settlers reached the mountains.
“Bert and Spring wanted to bring up their children in this rural setting,” Edna said sadly, “but God had other plans for them.”
Two rustic rockers, with a table between them, stood on the porch. An unwashed coffee cup was on the table, just as Bert or Summer might have left it. Inside the house was further evidence that their loved ones didn’t know they were leaving home for the last time. A package of cookies lay on the table. Dishes had been washed and placed on a drying rack. Several large logs in the fireplace waited for a spark to ignite them.
The front half of the house contained a combination kitchen and living area. A narrow hall, with a bathroom at the end, divided the rear of the house into two bedrooms. One room held a double bed and a chest. The other room across the hall had twin beds. Stuffed animals were scattered on one bed, which Summer surmised was Nicole’s side of the room, for posters of dinosaurs and football players decorated the other corner. The wooden headboard was cluttered with a small collection of dinosaurs.
“One of you can stay here tonight, or we can offer two guest rooms in the dormitory,” Edna said.
Reluctantly, Summer agreed to spend the night in the house.
“David,” Edna said, “I’ll show you to a room in the boy’s building.”
“I’ll bring your suitcase from the car after I move in to my room,” David said, closely eyeing the pallor of Summer’s face.
She nodded, pulled out a chair from the table and sat down wearily. When he returned a short time later, Summer still sat at the kitchen table, a frightened look on her face.
“It’s so dark,” she complained. “And I can’t hear a sound.”
Sitting across from her, David answered with a note of levity in his voice, “That’s supposed to be one of the benefits of country living.”
“Perhaps so, but I’m not keen on country living. At the farm, we had several dusk-to-dawn security lights. It never got completely dark except on those times when the power was off, and even then, Mother always had lots of lamps and candles on hand.”
“I’ll exchange places with you if you like,” David volunteered, “but I think you’ll get more rest here. The dormitory walls are paper thin, and the boys are rather noisy. I figure I’ll want a little peace and quiet before morning.”
“I’ll be all right.” She got up and paced the floor for a few minutes, then she looked in the refrigerator and some of the cabinets, where there was a good supply of food. In spite of the wills they’d left behind, it was obvious that Bert and Spring had intended to come home again.
“You might as well come here for breakfast. There are tea bags in the cabinet and frozen juice and a loaf of bread in the freezer.” Her eyes flitted around the room. “David, what are we going to do with their things?”
David shook his head and surveyed the cabin’s furnishings. One wall cabinet contained mementos that Bert and Spring had brought from Bolivia. A small television was centered before the couch and a deep lounge chair. An open Bible lay on a desk. Had Bert and Spring sat at that desk when they’d written their wills?
“If I’m the executor of the will, I suppose I can make the decision of what to do with everything, but it won’t be an easy task.”
David hated to leave Summer alone, but he knew he should leave. In spite of his good intentions, he figured Edna wouldn’t approve if he spent the night in the house with Summer, even if Summer would allow it. He laid a tender hand on her shoulder.
“Try to sleep. I’ll be here early in the morning.”
When he stepped off the porch, Summer opened her mouth to ask him to stay longer, but she didn’t speak. She had to stop depending on David’s presence to calm her fears.
Summer showered in a thin stream of tepid water and changed into her nightgown and robe. She couldn’t bring herself to sleep in Spring’s bed. She picked up a blanket and went into the living room.
She laid the blanket on the couch, wandered around the room and picked up the Bible lying open on the desk. Several lines were highlighted, and she read aloud, “‘For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.”’
The minister who’d preached their funerals had read the same passage, and Summer considered it a fitting epitaph for Bert and Spring. She turned the pages of the Bible wondering if it contained any words to guide her in the decisions she must make.
There were many underlined passages, and she paused at one verse marked in Psalm 144, “Happy is that people, whose God is the Lord.” Accepting someone as Lord meant He would be the ruler of your life. If she too
k that step, could she more willingly carry out her sister’s request?
Chapter Five
When David approached the cabin the next morning, Summer sat on the front porch wrapped in a blanket staring toward the distant mountains. Her face was unreadable, but he sensed the indecision and the fears she faced. If she moved to Mountain Glen with the children, would it make or break her? She looked so innocent, and he wondered what would happen to her if she chose The Crossroads.
David hadn’t slept much because he was fighting his own battles. He didn’t want to leave his job, although he felt duty-bound to do what his brother had requested, but only if Summer would partner with him. He believed there was a warm, vibrant person behind the quiet facade she exhibited. If he could be with her a few months, he was certain he would discover the personality she’d displayed when they’d spent the day at the amusement park.
Being in this isolated area, where his brother had chosen to serve the Lord, had caused David to realize how far he’d wandered from God and the spiritual values his parents had taught him. In addition to furthering his relationship with Summer, David longed to find the peace and security he’d once known when he came into God’s presence without guilt. He believed he could find it at The Crossroads. David hadn’t lived a bad life, but he remembered a Bible verse he’d memorized as a child. “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.” So he’d erred, not by the sins he’d committed, but by what he hadn’t done.
David deliberately stepped on a twig, and when it snapped, Summer’s startled eyes turned in his direction. When she started to stand, the blanket wrapped around her legs and she stumbled. He vaulted up on the porch and took her hand.
Clasping the blanket around her shoulders, she said as she entered the cabin, “I’ll dress and then we can have breakfast. I have coffee ready. Help yourself.”
When she returned to the kitchen, David had poured cups of coffee and glasses of juice.
“I made some toast and found a jar of jelly in the cabinets. No butter,” he said.
She sat at the table and spread jelly on the slice of bread. “How’d you sleep?” David asked.
“Didn’t sleep at all! There were too many memories floating around in my head. I kept thinking about Spring and her family, and their association to this cabin. It’s still hard to accept she’s gone.”
“I know what you mean. After Bert left for college and then the mission field, we didn’t see much of each other, but we were good buddies when we were kids. We didn’t fight like a lot of brothers.”
A faraway gleam crept into Summer’s eyes, and she smiled weakly. “You’ve met my mother, so needless to say, there wasn’t any fighting in the Weaver household.”
After they finished eating, Summer took the dishes to the sink. “Let’s get started with whatever we need to do today. I hate indecision.”
David inclined his head cautiously. “I have a feeling we aren’t going to have all our problems settled when we leave here today.”
She hurriedly washed the dishes, while David dried them and put them in the cabinet.
“It’s still too early to meet with Miss Stollard,” David said. “She’s probably on duty until the students settle into classrooms for the day. Let’s take a walk and look at the scenery.”
The morning was crisp, and it was a pleasure to breathe the evergreen-scented mountain air. The sky was cerulean, with a few wispy clouds floating high above the valley. The area seemed less forbidding this morning than it had yesterday. They walked along a path to a small lake. Three deer, grazing in the meadow, flicked their tails and ears and stared at the intruders. The buck stomped a front foot at the intruders when Summer and David paused to watch.
“They’re not afraid,” Summer said.
“No reason to be, I suppose.”
The deer moved away slowly, grazing as they went. Summer and David sat on a concrete bench beside the lake.
After a few moments of silence, David asked, “I’m having a hard time envisioning myself as a family man.” He chuckled reminiscently. “When we were kids, I remember telling Bert that, when I grew up, I intended to get married and have a house full of kids. There were only three of us, and one of my buddies came from a family of ten children. I felt like I’d been shortchanged. Since I wasn’t doing anything about it, maybe Bert thought he ought to give me his kids.”
“Why haven’t you gotten married?” Summer asked.
“Never did get around to it. I joined the ROTC in college and went right into the Air Force after I graduated. The years drifted along, and I didn’t give it any thought. Maybe I didn’t find the right woman.”
“No serious affairs either?” Summer asked, surprised at her audacity.
He arched his eyebrows. “You’re kinda inquisitive, aren’t you?”
Summer colored slightly. “Why didn’t you come right out and say I was nosy? Guess it isn’t any of my business.”
“No, I haven’t had any affairs—serious or otherwise.” With a tantalizing grin, he said, “Now it’s my turn. Why haven’t you gotten married? You’re as old as I am.”
“There are other things I wanted more than marriage. My father’s Aunt Naomi never married, and she became my role model. She was one of the first women to get a doctorate in economics at OSU, and she made quite a name for herself in the business world by establishing her own factory to manufacture tack accessories for horses. My parents and grandparents had also been successful in the equine industry, and I suppose I inherited some of their ambition. I decided if Aunt Naomi could succeed in the business world, I would, too.”
“But a lot of successful women combine marriage and a career.”
“Yes, I know, but when Spring and Autumn fell in love, they were willing to give up everything to be with the men they loved. Of course, Autumn went on to become a veterinarian, but she probably wouldn’t have if Nathan would have married her when she was eighteen.”
“I’m surprised some man hasn’t convinced you otherwise,” David said.
“I also inherited a lot of Weaver stubbornness. I’m not easily persuaded.”
“Is that a warning?”
Getting up from the bench, she said, “Nope—just the truth. I don’t know how we got off on this subject, but let’s go see Miss Stollard. We have planes to catch tomorrow.”
They heard the hum of voices as they entered the building. Edna was in her office, talking on the phone, so they waited in the hallway. She motioned them into the room when she finished her conversation.
After they sat down, Edna said, “I’ve been talking to the chairperson of our mission board in Raleigh. I explained about the wills, and I also told him of your reluctance to take on this work and why. At this time, there is absolutely no one available to administer the work at The Crossroads, and the director is willing to appoint you to work here on a temporary basis, on my recommendation, as long as I oversee the spiritual needs of the children.”
Summer’s face blanched and she gripped the arm of her chair. Lacking the necessary qualifications for the work, she’d hoped they would be relieved of the need to make a decision about coming to Mountain Glen. Her last hope had been jerked out from under her! David stood behind her chair and placed understanding hands on her shoulders.
“And what if we don’t agree to come?” David asked.
“The school will close at the end of the month.”
Alarmed, he asked, “What will happen to The Crossroads’ residents?” Summer shuddered beneath his hands.
“They’ll be placed in foster homes or returned to where they were before they came here. We’d have no other choice.”
Summer gasped. The faces of the youth who’d watched them in the dining room passed through her mind. What would it be like to have no home? No one to love or take care of you? In her youth she’d despaired sometimes at the restraints her parents had put on her, but she’d always felt secure.
“So if we don’t accept this work,” sh
e said, “we’ll not only be guilty of refusing to do what Bert and Spring requested, but we’ll also be responsible for dislocating thirty young people?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Weaver. I’m only answering your questions. Our mission organization represents a small group of churches and our finances are limited. If there was time, we might find someone to take over, but on such short notice, we don’t have any prospects.”
“If we agree to come, we’re actually buying time for you and the residents,” David said.
“Yes, I suppose that’s it,” Edna agreed.
A boy pecked on the office door and said, “Miss Stollard, you’re needed in room four. One of the girls is sick.”
“Excuse me a few minutes,” Edna said and left the room.
“Would you be willing to take a leave of absence from your work for a year?” David asked Summer after Miss Stollard exited. “If we come until they find replacements that might fulfill the intent of the will.”
“I can’t live here, David. I feel suffocated in these mountains. After living most of my life where I can see for miles in every direction, I’d be miserable at The Crossroads.”
“You can’t see very far from a Manhattan apartment.”
She ignored his comment. “Why can’t I take the children to New York with me and you take over the administration of the school? That’s the most workable solution, and we’d be doing what Bert and April wanted.”
That plan had come to her during her wakeful night when she despaired of her increasing dependence upon David. If she returned to New York, and he lived in North Carolina, she would seldom see him. Continued association with David Brown was presenting a problem—she’d almost convinced herself that it would be worth doing what her sister had asked, if she and David could work together, and that wasn’t what she wanted.
Her words surprised and disappointed David. The past few days with Summer had been pleasant, and over and above his sense of duty to his brother, he was willing to come to The Crossroads for the opportunity to become better acquainted with her.
