Love in the WINGS

by Delia Latham

  “Hmm.” He hesitated, but decided to go for it. “Who is this woman…Zoe? I mean, is she reliable? Why does Pia think she’d know more than anyone else about what’s going on here in Angel Falls? She’s not even in the United States, is she?”

  Shiny auburn hair swung back and forth as Aria shook her head. “No, she and her husband are in Haiti. But they both used to live at Heart’s Haven, and Pia says Zoe is kind of…well…you know, like Mr. Hart.”

  “She’s old?”

  Aria’s burst of laughter trilled across the early evening air like the song of a thrush and curved Corbin’s lips into a smile. “No, she’s not old, silly. But she has a connection to—you know what I mean. To Heaven.”

  Corbin stopped. He turned to face Aria and took her arm to keep her from walking on. “Wait a minute. I think I know what you’re trying to say. Seems to me someone mentioned that old Hart talks to angels, or some such nonsense.”

  His words sucked the happy light right out of Aria’s eyes, and he wanted to kick himself for opening his trap.

  “Yes. I’m talking about angels. Mr. Hart does speak with them, and so does Zoe.” She tilted her head to the side, narrowed those dark chocolate eyes and studied his face. Corbin suddenly wanted to look somewhere else—anywhere but into her disappointed gaze. “Kinda sounds like you have doubts.”

  He pulled in a deep breath, tucked her hand through his arm and started walking again. Slowly this time, so they could talk.

  “I do have doubts.”

  She shook her head. “How can you claim to believe the Bible and not believe in angels?”

  He shrugged. “I believe they exist. I just don’t think they interact with humans.”

  “But the Bible clearly relates several situations in which they did exactly that.”

  “I know, but…that was then. This is now.”

  “Oh, I see.” A little of the previous warmth left her voice, and Corbin’s heart felt the change in temperature as if someone had dashed cold water in his face. “And you think God has changed from ‘then’ to ‘now?’”

  “Come on, Aria, that’s not fair. Of course I don’t think God has changed, but—”

  “There are no buts. God’s Word has to be taken on faith, Corbin. In whole, not in part. We can’t choose to believe the parts that seem logical, and write off the ones we find hard to understand.”

  He said nothing for a moment. How could he tell her that the very thought of angels left a sour taste in his mouth, a burning sting across his back, and the stench of alcohol in his nostrils?

  Now wasn’t the time to get into all that. A diversion—that’s what he needed.

  “Let’s talk about your name. I like it. And it suits your personality, you know. You’ve got the whole music thing going on, and Aria just fits right in there.”

  She said nothing for a moment, and Corbin knew she was debating whether to let him off the hook. Finally, she gave him a wry smile. “My parents are both music lovers. When I was born, they were really into opera—that’s why I’m Aria.” She chuckled. “Daddy mostly calls me Songbird. Aria being ‘song,’ of course, and Robbins…well, you know.”

  He chuckled, loving the unexpected note of shyness in her voice. “It’s perfect, especially since you have such a great voice. He must have made that happen by sheer force of will.”

  “Thank you. But let me tell you, growing up wasn’t fun with a name like mine. I took a lot of teasing in school.”

  He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t?” She stopped. Planting both hands on her slim hips, she gave him a saucy toss of her head and spat out a sing-song line of nonsense. “Ar-ya. Ar-ya, are ya gonna tell the teacher we’re pickin’ on ya? Huh? Are ya, Ar-ya?” She rolled her eyes and kept going. “Ar-ya. Are ya gonna be the teacher’s pet again, Ar-ya? Are ya, Ar-ya?”

  Corbin laughed. He chucked her under the chin and shook his head. “Kids are good at destroying beautiful things, aren’t they?”

  “I believe we’ve found something we agree on, Mr. Bishop.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and stalked off, but her full lips were tilted in the right direction. After a moment, he hurried to catch up, thinking Pastor David’s secretary possessed just about the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. One up for God. He’d given Corbin something to like about his neighbor.

  ****

  Back in her own cottage, Aria prepared for bed in a contemplative mood. Corbin’s response to the subject of angels troubled her. She couldn’t buy into his claim to believing any portion of the Bible if he deliberately discounted other parts. His faith appeared to have a weak foundation, and she feared for his future as a Christian.

  Well, now she had something specific to focus on when she prayed for him. The day in his company had shown her that she really wouldn’t have to work too hard at finding things to like about him. He was a nice enough guy. Still, she couldn’t help it that her hackles rose any time he was in the vicinity.

  She lay awake for a long time. She’d taken full advantage of her prayer hour that afternoon, but she found herself talking to God again as she lay waiting for sleep to claim her. A strong sense of something being “off” in Angel Falls still weighed heavily on her heart, so she asked for protection and peace for the town, for The Falls Tabernacle as a whole, and for each of the Prayer WINGS members individually.

  Without even intending to do so, she also brought Corbin’s name to the Lord—over and over again. She prayed for Viv and Mr. Hart…and Corbin. She asked God to strengthen Pia and David…and Corbin. Blessings on Kaci and Ryne as they prepared for their life together even as the enemy hovered so near…and blessings on Corbin.

  By the time she threw the extra pillows aside and slid further between the sheets for the night, her throat hurt from crying. A pile of wet, torn tissues filled the small trash container beside her bed.

  And her heart ached with a burden she could not explain. For the church, because she no longer doubted Zoe’s warning in the least. For David, because he stood most in the line of fire.

  And for Corbin…for reasons she did not understand.

  ****

  The Sunday morning service slaked a deep thirst in Aria’s soul.

  She’d spent another night repeatedly visiting that sad barn scene, with each dream more disturbingly real than the last. By the time she rolled out of bed and poured enough strong coffee down her throat to drown out the shadowy remnants of nightmare, she realized she was seriously sleep-deprived.

  Pastor David took his text that morning from Ezekiel and titled his sermon, “Broken Lines of Defense.” He stressed how important it is for each individual to utilize his or her talents and skills to strengthen the church as a unit. Aria, drawn heart and soul into his sermon, had visualized a line of soldiers standing guard around an encampment. When one had to break the formation for any reason, another instantly moved to fill in the gap, never allowing even a second’s breach to form in the tight line of defense.

  “Each of us has a strength that is uniquely ours,” Pastor David said. “Some of us are strong teachers. Some are musicians. Others do their part in the background…praying, strengthening, encouraging. A church body needs a variety of skills, talents, gifts, and just willing hands. Every task is crucial to creating a cohesive front. And when one of us loses place for whatever reason, it is absolutely imperative that someone else step in without hesitation to stand in the gap and make up the hedge. Are you willing? Will you be the one who keeps our line of defense unbroken?”

  Aria drove home still in the grip of the powerful sermon. She had a quick lunch, and then picked up her Bible to read the passages in Ezekiel chapter thirteen that Pastor David had used. But exhaustion claimed her quickly, and she wound up taking a rare afternoon nap that turned into a marathon sleep fest.

  The discordant jangle of the bedside phone roused her just over three hours later. She fumbled the receiver to her ear and croaked out a greeting. “Hello?”

  “Aria, it’s
Corbin. I’m out front. Can I come in?”

  She lurched to her feet, ran her fingers through her tousled hair and made a dash for the door. The wild beating of her heart said something was terribly wrong.

  He stepped inside the moment she unlocked the door. A faint stubble covered his chin and shadowed his cheeks, and his dark hair appeared to have received about the same amount of finger-combed attention she’d given her own.

  She hesitated to ask because she feared the answer. But she had to know.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Corbin reached out and pulled her into his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. Startled, she stiffened, but only momentarily. Then, relaxing into his embrace, she felt a slight tremble along the length of his frame, and her heart clenched in sudden panic, making it hard to breathe.

  “It’s Mr. Hart, Aria. He’s…he’s gone.”

  “G—gone?” Her heart set up a racing rhythm that made no sense. She pulled back to see his face. “Not…?”

  Nodding, he released her and dropped onto the sofa, looking every bit as dazed and confused as she felt. “Yeah. Passed away. He was working in the flowerbeds with Viv’s friend…Madison? I think that’s her name. She said he just…dropped. A heart attack.”

  Aria’s hand flew to her mouth as she sat next to him and tucked her bare feet underneath her. Choked by tears, she managed a weak response. “Oh, no!”

  Neither of them said anything for a long time. Aria kept hoping she’d wake up and discover she was dreaming. It didn’t happen, so she wandered into the kitchen and set about making a pitcher of sweet tea. “How did you find out?”

  “David called. He and Pia were with Viv at the hospital, and he wasn’t sure if they’d be on time for the evening service. He asked if you and I could get things going if they’re late.”

  She nodded, added ice cubes to a couple of glasses, and then leaned against the counter, feeling weak and drained. “I can’t imagine this place without Mr. Hart.”

  “No one can. David sounded…bad.”

  Aria nodded and clamped her lip between her teeth when tears stung her eyes. “He was so close to his uncle. I wonder if this is part of the whole...you know, the warfare thing.”

  Corbin shrugged. “I suppose it could be. It’s bound to make things harder for him. Mr. Hart’s death will give the other side an advantage, because David’ll be more vulnerable while the pain is fresh.”

  “Of course he will.” Aria carried the two glasses of iced tea into the living room and handed one to her guest. “And that means we’ll need to be his strength. Do you remember the story in Exodus, how Aaron and Hur held up Moses’ arms during a battle with the Amalekites?”

  “As long as Moses held the staff up, the Israelites held sway. But if he lowered the staff, the Amalekites gained strength.”

  She nodded. “That’s right. When Moses’ arms became too tired, Aaron and Hur had him sit on a rock and they held up his arms when he couldn’t hold them up himself.”

  She sipped at her tea, and then gave Corbin a weary smile. “While David lacks strength, we have to be strong for him. Remember his message this morning? With Mr. Hart gone and David’s strength compromised, someone’s going to have to stand in the gap and make up the hedge.”

  He met her gaze without flinching. “I’m ready if you are.”

  Aria pulled in a deep breath. “Count me in.”

  6

  Two full weeks had passed since Andrew Hart’s Celebration of Life service, and every day weighed more heavily on Aria’s soul. The battle raged on, making itself evident in little ways that eroded the peace in and around Heart’s Haven and the church—in other words, her entire world.

  Circumstances had thrown her and Corbin together, and they’d worked side by side in complete harmony…standing in the gap and making up the hedge. They’d had to. The battle had already taken a heavy toll on their pastor. Even church members who were not part of WINGS were feeling the pressure—maybe even more than the prayer team members, simply because they were dealing with the effects of the battle without being aware of what was going on.

  Aria found herself actually enjoying Corbin’s company—at least, as much as she could enjoy anything with the oppressive shadow hanging over them. She found it hard to remember exactly what it was about the youth minister that she’d thought she didn’t like.

  David seemed to be sinking further into himself. Pia asked the prayer team to pray that it wouldn’t become necessary to make their pastor’s condition known to everyone. But apparently, the pressure was getting to her, too. Her normally cheerful demeanor had gone quiet, a washed-out pallor lay just beneath her lovely dark complexion, and she was always tired. Pia wasn’t well, and Aria found herself alone at Jewels for the Kingdom more afternoons than not.

  Today she and Corbin had made a trip into Lufkin for church supplies. Things had been so out of kilter that she hadn’t made her usual weekly trips into the bigger town to stock up. They’d come close to being completely out of some necessities at the church—things no one ever thought about when they were available, but would miss horribly if they weren’t…like toilet paper, boxes of tissue for the sanctuary, and coffee for the office. Aria realized they’d reached a must-go-to-Lufkin situation when she scooped out the last of the coffee grounds that morning.

  Corbin’s offer to make the twenty-minute drive with her had come as a welcome surprise. They’d closed the church office early, hopped into his pickup and driven out of town. Within the first mile past the town limit sign, the sticky weightiness that had choked Angel Falls for weeks simply dissipated. Aria’s window was down, and she stuck one hand outside, startled to find the air cool and pleasant. She whipped her head around to look at Corbin, whose elbow rested on his own window frame. He nodded.

  That was the only acknowledgment she’d needed. She hadn’t wanted to spoil the pleasure of getting out from under the oppression for a time.

  On their way back to Angel Falls now, Aria leaned her head against the seat behind her and thanked God for her neighbor’s steady support. Without it, she wasn’t sure she’d have made it through the past two very difficult weeks.

  They pulled under the big Heart’s Haven sign and Corbin reached across the seat to give her hand a squeeze. “You’ve been amazing through all of this.”

  “So have you.” She returned the pressure and pulled free of his hand just as he parked in front of his cottage. “I’d like to walk later, after I get a chance to rest a bit. Would you—” She paused, and gnawed at her lip. Was she being too forward? Oh, well, she was too tired to care about propriety. “Want to come along?”

  He winked and one side of his mouth tilted upward. “Sure.”

  She nodded. “I’ll call when I’m ready to go, but don’t hold your breath. I’m planning on a good, long snooze.”

  As she walked across the lawn to her own gate, she grinned. Corbin Bishop’s smile could make most girls’ hearts do a triple time quick step.

  Two hours later, she rolled out of bed, groaning. Would she never be allowed to sleep again without seeing that poor, beaten boy in the barn? She was beginning to wonder if there really was a boy somewhere close who needed help. Were the Heart’s Haven angels trying to tell her something with these unrelenting dreams?

  She splashed cold water on her face and dried it with a hand towel, then leaned against the sink and looked around the room. No harps or haloes. Not even a feather in sight. “Well, if you’re there, and you want me to know something, I sure wish you’d just tell me. If I don’t get some sound sleep—and soon, mind you—I’m going to become the first zombie with an actual beating heart.”

  She grabbed a scrunchie and pulled her hair back into a ponytail at her neck, then rolled her eyes at her pale reflection. “Now I’m talking to myself. Enough already.”

  Hurrying into the kitchen, she punched Corbin’s number into her cell phone and grabbed a bottle of water while she waited for him to pick up. “Hey, I’m hea
ded down the trail. You coming?”

  ****

  “You look tired.”

  Corbin slanted a glance toward Aria. They’d walked in silence for a good quarter mile. Every few minutes, she heaved a sigh, one he was pretty sure she wasn’t even aware of. Faint circles of darkness shadowed her eyes. In fact, Aria’s overall appearance this afternoon bespoke total weariness.

  “I am tired.” She pulled in another deep whiff of the fresh Angelina air, and looked his way just long enough to give him a ghost-smile that did weird and wonderful things to his heart. “I’m not sleeping much.”

  “I thought you were going to get some rest this afternoon.” He didn’t mention his own spotty sleep. Those crazy dream-memories threatened to drive him straight over the edge, but Aria didn’t need to know that.

  “I did lie down. I even slept. But—” She broke off and gave a sharp little shake of her head. “Sleep isn’t the most restful place for me lately.”

  “No?” He grabbed her hand and tucked it under his elbow, deliberately slowing their pace. Aria seemed determined to outrun something, and it didn’t seem to be working. Letting it catch up might help—at least she could get it off her chest this way. “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head, and then nodded. He almost teased her about the contradictory body language, but something stopped him. Her uncertainty was anything but funny.

  “I might. But be warned—it’s going to sound crazy.”

  Now he allowed himself a bit of a chuckle. “Trust me, little songbird, I know ‘crazy.’ Intimately. Spent more time in its company than I care to think about.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re not crazy. Not even close. But something’s bothering you, and…well, sometimes talking about it helps. I’ve been told I’m not a bad listener.”

  He didn’t dare mention that he had two broad shoulders she was welcome to cry on. She’d probably bite his head off and spit it at his feet.