Light of Logan

by Regina Smeltzer

  Joe’s chuckle mocked. “Still at it, aren’t you, buddy?”

  Nate tensed, wishing Ruth weren’t with him to witness whatever Joe had in mind.

  “Still making that old church building some sort of idol in your life.”

  Ruth stiffened and started to say something then must have decided otherwise. Nate glanced at her tight face as she glared at Joe. Nate pulled her tighter against his side. “Church is important to me. It might do you good to go now and then.”

  “Oh, I go when I need to.”

  Nate pulled Ruth down the sidewalk with him. He hardly dared to breathe, hoping the confrontation was over.

  “Oh, Ruth.” Nate heard the rustle of paper. “I got this for you—a second copy of the adoption papers for our child.”

  Nate’s face blanched. He turned toward Joe. “Of all the low down—”

  “Oh, she didn’t tell you? She and I have a history together. Your little princess was my queen.”

  “Joe, how dare you…” Ruth’s words were venomous.

  Nate barely noticed. He couldn’t get beyond what Joe had said. Their child? Adoption papers?

  “It was a long time ago.” The words seemed stuck in her throat. “I was finishing high school when I met Joe. He said he loved me…” Her expression begged for understanding.

  Nate let go of her arm. He stared at her as though he had never seen her before. It wasn’t the baby, even though that was bad enough. But Ruth and Joe.

  “Nate, please. Let me explain.”

  “I thought…” Words choked in his throat.

  “I know what you thought, Nate, and I should have told you. I should have. Please believe me.” She reached for the chain around her neck. “You helped me change.” She stretched her hand toward him.

  He backed away and turned to his cousin. “You win,” he said, “just like always.”

  Nate felt Ruth’s gaze on his back as he walked away. There was no reason to expect Ruth to have lived by his standards, but a relationship with Joe…it was too much.

  ~*~

  Nate rounded the corner. Out of Ruth’s sight. Out of her life. Never had hate filled her with such vengeance. Somehow, someway, she would make Joe pay for his cruelty.

  Joe remained standing on the stairs, the envelope dangling from his hand, a smirk on his face. Every blond hair on his head in place. Impeccably groomed. Perfect in every physical way and yet so horribly ugly. Never could she allow this cold person to raise their daughter. He and his family thought more about money and status than love. Joe had told her so many stories about being left with a nanny over a holiday while his parents went cruising, or skiing, or off on a tour at some far location. The strange thing was, he didn’t see anything wrong with it. This was the life he knew. But it was not the life she wanted for her daughter.

  “I’ll pick you up at six. We have a lot to talk about. Wear something pretty.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he walked toward the double front doors of the courthouse.

  Filled with rage, filled with pain, Ruth stood in place, unsure what to do. She could chase Joe and give him a piece of her mind, but for what good? Or she could run after Nate and try to explain, and yet, what was left to say? She could pray, but she wasn’t sure she believed in prayer.

  Besides, the concept of Nate’s God being a loving Creator felt like a lose bolt, clunking and jolting, but never fitting. Square-bolt, round-hole kind of thing. Nate said God cared about her. And Betsy—she had told her, too. Ruth squeezed her eyes shut, but no matter how hard she thought about it, God didn’t fit into any sequence of her life. And what about her friend Lizzi? Where was God when Lizzi needed Him?

  Lizzi had been her best friend in elementary school until the day Lizzi was stolen away by her mother. Ruth still thought of it that way. Lizzi was being raised by her grandmother. No one knew where Lizzi’s mom was most of the time, but one day at Lizzi’s ninth birthday party a strange woman was there. Lizzi said it was her mom who showed up unexpectedly. Ruth remembered Lizzi’s grandmother’s eyes were red. Ten days later, and Lizzi was gone, forced to live with her birth mother.

  Ruth didn’t see Lizzi for seven years and had mostly forgotten her. Then the rumors started at school. Lizzi was dead. She had swallowed a bottle of aspirin and went to bed. Her mom didn’t find her for two days. The story came out, bit by bit, the way horrible things were revealed. Lizzi had not been loved. She had been better off with a grandmother who cared for her, but the law forced her to leave that love.

  And Ruth had lost Nate, not because of the baby, but because of her relationship with Joe.

  Several cars drove by. Groups of people stood across the street at the light, waiting to come to work, ready to start a normal day as part of a normal life.

  Ruth straightened her back. She had to start acting like an adult. For whatever reason, Joe still wanted her. There was no sense trying to avoid him. She thought of a restraining order, but she needed to be near him in order to try to stop his interference in their daughter’s life. Her dream of being with Nate might have ended, but she still needed to control her life. There was no way she would allow Joe to raise their daughter and end up like Lizzi. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect the child.

  She would keep that date with Joe and find out what he was up to. What did he hold against Mr. Charlie and why the interest in the light of Logan? And did he really know where their daughter was? One more date, but this time with her eyes open. He might spy on her, but tonight she would return the favor.

  ~*~

  As Nate stumbled past the courthouse, he overheard Joe’s plans to meet with Ruth that night. His cousin’s intentions were clear, and it sickened him. Mindlessly he turned the corner, leaving Joe behind. The next side street approached, and he took it, hoping to leave behind thoughts of Ruth as easily as he had left Joe.

  He hadn’t given her a chance to explain, and after he had promised to be there for her…Sure, he made the promise, but that was before he knew her involvement with Joe. The fact that Ruth and Joe knew each other from years ago bothered him, sure, but she never gave a clue as to the level of their relationship. His cousin had one-upped him all their lives. If it had been anyone else but Joe…then, maybe.

  A stiff vine projected toward the sidewalk. Nate grabbed the stalk and pulled the plant from the ground. He slammed the vine with its clinging dirt into the street. He was at the back of his church. The early morning sun had yet to stretch above the level of the oaks, and the nighttime shade had cooled the churchyard. Nate slumped against the brick and slid to the ground. God, is it too much to ask for a wife who loves me? I have served You all my life. I mow this grass, and pull the weeds. I paint and scrub and fix, and all I want is a wife, not Joe’s castoff. Nate pounded his fist into the ground. He remembered the difficulty he had explaining to Ruth why he went to church. His answers had felt so superficial, his explanation had put God so far away, just as God felt right now. Where was God when he needed Him? He had worked…he had worked…

  He leaned his head against the wall. It wasn’t about work. It was about grace. He knew this, and yet he’d ignored it. Car engines roared. Distant voices.

  Crows dropped from the large oak and settled on the grass. A dozen, then more.

  With each crow that darkened the yard, Nate’s anger grew. He raced across the grass. “Leave me alone!”

  Crows scattered, many finding refuge back in the towering limbs above the reach of the flailing man.

  Spent, Nate once again fell against the church building. He had always been a good judge of character, and everything about Ruth felt right. Chet liked her, and Betsy. How could they all have been wrong?

  A shadow landed over him.

  “Surprised to find you here,” Pastor Greg Clark said. He lowered himself to the ground beside Nate. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  Nate pulled his legs up to his chest and grunted.

  “I heard someone yelling. That you?”

  Most days Nate enjoyed talkin
g with Greg. But right now, he wanted to be left alone to lick his wounds. “Stupid crows.”

  “Actually, I heard they are quite smart.”

  “These aren’t.”

  One crow returned to the grass, then a second. Nate jumped to his feet. “I can’t stand these crows!”

  “How about we go to my house?”

  The two men walked the four blocks to the Clark home. The kitchen in the ranch house had the feel of the eighties with green laminate countertops and yellow appliances.

  Greg popped a container in the fancy coffeemaker and motioned Nate toward the old wood table. When the second cup was filled, he carried them to the table.

  “I might as well tell you.” Nate leaned on his elbows. “Ruth had a child. She gave it up for adoption.” He didn’t mention the baby was Joe’s. It sounded so petty, and yet the thought made his chest tighten to the point he could barely breathe.

  “Was this recent?”

  “Right after high school, I think.”

  “That’s been awhile. So why the anger?”

  Nate’s face reddened. “She lied to me!” He wanted to punch something. If nothing else, give a swing. But there was nothing to punch in the pastor’s house.

  “She lied to you?”

  “Well, not so much lied as deceived. She let me believe she was a moral woman.”

  Pastor Greg rubbed the back of his neck. “I seem to remember you telling me she didn’t go to church but was warming to the idea.” He shook his head up and down. “Yes, that’s what you said. She was warming to the idea.”

  Nate didn’t want a lecture. He needed a friend who would listen. Someone who would help him feel better. He had a right to his anger. “She’s been coming to church every Sunday, even after the tomatoes, and the bomb…”

  “But she didn’t go to church before, right?”

  “No.”

  “You can’t expect a person without Christ to live a Christian life. Once we meet our Savior, our sins are washed away. We become new. I don’t think Ruth’s there yet, but…”

  Nate knew all that, yet he couldn’t share the real source of his anger.

  “Have you talked to her about the baby?”

  “No, I just found out this morning. Joe told me.”

  “Cousin Joe?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmm.” Pastor Clark leaned back in his chair. “That adds fuel to the fire.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Nate. I’ve known you most of your life, and there has never been much love between you and Joe, but there’s been a whole lot of competition. And I’ve seen the way you look at Ruth. How did Joe know…oh. Oh. Wow.”

  Nate lowered his head.

  The pastor leaned in. “Does she love him?”

  “Who cares? I don’t know.” Nate swallowed. “They’re going out somewhere tonight to talk. From the look on Joe’s face, I don’t think talk is what’s on his mind.”

  “And Ruth?”

  “I don’t know.” Nate thought of the frightened look on Ruth’s face when Joe first appeared in town. And this morning, the pain in her eyes as she reached for his hand.

  “So what are you doing about this date tonight?”

  “Nothing. It’s not my business.” Nate pushed his empty cup toward the pastor. “Thanks for the coffee.” Outside, Nate wandered the streets, his thoughts as confused as his footsteps. Why couldn’t he shake the memory of her wounded look?

  ~*~

  Ruth chose not to go to work, which meant she also missed seeing Mr. Charlie. Instead, she spent the day worrying about the evening’s date with Joe. When he arrived, she stood ready on the stoop to avoid any chance of him coming into the house. Surprised that he would ask, Ruth chose the Red Rock Inn outside of town when Joe gave her the choice. It was casual dining within a reasonable distance of Logan, which she had insisted on, and private enough that they would be able to talk. She came armed with an agenda.

  The Inn sat on a knoll facing a pond. Pine and elm trees created a backdrop behind the water and ducks provided the entertainment. A wooden bridge ended at a gazebo that jutted well out into the water. Benches placed strategically along the walk allowed couples to sit.

  Joe chose a table across the room from the window, which left Ruth with nothing to look at except Joe. She couldn’t even stare at other diners since the large room was divided into smaller, more intimate seating areas by half-walls arched at the top, the openings adorned with vines and potted plants.

  An icy fist gripped her heart, an alert to the presence of danger even though the room appeared settled and the weather calm. Perhaps they should leave? Searching for an excuse to go home, she found none. The feeling of fear had to be a reaction to her lack of confidence in questioning Joe. After all, she rarely confronted anyone.

  The approaching waitress’s stiff black skirt rubbed against her thighs as she walked. She stood at the end of the table, pen poised over pad.

  Joe looked at the menu then up at the waitress. “The lovely lady will have the grilled chicken with the mango chutney and sautéed asparagus.” He paused. “They are still your favorites, aren’t they, sweet?”

  The server waited. Ruth started to nod in agreement, but stopped. She studied the menu. “Actually, I’ll have the swordfish with lemon butter and broccoli.”

  The woman glanced at Joe, who nodded his head. She wrote on her small pad.

  Ruth smirked. Ruth, one. Joe, zero.

  Joe stared at Ruth for a second before turning to the waitress. “I’ll have the ribeye, extra seasoning and make it medium rare, with a baked potato, butter and sour cream.” Joe closed the menu. “Oh, and your best bottle of Pinot Noir.”

  The wine arrived and was found acceptable. Joe poured a generous amount into Ruth’s glass. “Go ahead and drink it. It won’t hurt you.” He swirled the red liquid in his glass and took a sip. “It might even do you some good.”

  Her first sample of alcohol had been at his house years ago. It had also been her last. Now, with Joe watching, she took a tentative sip and found the sweet taste soothing. She took a second sip and decided she could breathe again.

  Joe smiled and set down his glass. He stroked the top of her hand gently with fingers that felt too soft. Not like Nate’s. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Ruth. There’s no reason for us to fight.”

  She took another sip of wine, anything to build up her resolve to do what needed done. Joe had an agenda and it wasn’t working for the mayor. What really brought him to town? And why the sudden interest in her? Mr. Charlie knew about the light of Logan, but what was this light, and what did it have to do with Joe? But most important was their child. She owed their daughter the stability of an adoptive family.

  “So how is the work coming with the mayor?” Ruth did her best to smile.

  “Not as well as planned, but you know that. The churches aren’t paying so there isn’t any money to budget.”

  “That must make for long days with nothing to do.”

  Joe lifted his wine glass and tipped it in her direction. “Oh, I have things to do.”

  She had never been one for small talk, and asking probing questions was so far out of her comfort zone she might as well be on the moon, but that was the reason she had agreed to this date. Ruth swallowed the lump in her throat. “Tell me more about this light of Logan.”

  Joe’s expression turned icy. “Does the old man call himself the light?”

  Ruth’s hand trembled, and she set down her glass of wine

  “You don’t have any idea what you’re dealing with, do you? Poor, innocent Ruth.”

  Dinner came. Her silverware hit too hard on the white china. Muted voices swirled from various parts of the room. Ruth knew she should slow down on the wine, but Joe kept filling her glass and it was hard to remember how much she had actually drank. Besides, the liquid pushed the food through her constricted esophagus.

  Joe maintained a monolog, mostly about his prowess as a legislator. Either h
e didn’t recognize her sudden silence, or he didn’t care. Questions about Mr. Charlie stopped for the time being.

  The room spun. Why she was here, in this restaurant, with Joe? She hated Joe, didn’t she? There was something she needed to do; she remembered that. In a restaurant with Joe. She hid an unexpected grin behind her wine glass.

  Chocolate cheesecake arrived, and she tried to smother another giggle. Dark dessert with a dark man. Dark room, dark mood…

  Another mouthful of wine slipped down her throat. “You never told me about the light.” Ruth’s tongue felt thick in her mouth.

  “You don’t need to worry about it. I have it all figured out.” Joe’s gaze softened.

  She knew how the night would end, and she didn’t really care. The damage was done. The giggles hit once more. Joe beamed, probably thinking his conversation was the source of her humor. Little did he know. Mr. Charlie, the baby, all her issues seemed insignificant.

  No sense denying it, she was having those feelings, the ones she thought she would never have again. How many times had she fantasized about it? But Nate had been in the bed with her, not Joe, and she had a slender wedding band around her left ring finger. She knew it wasn’t funny, but the laughing wouldn’t stop. Must be more of what her mother called black humor. Her mom said she got it from her dad. She missed her dad. Things would be different if he were here to protect her. But she could protect herself now. Mr. Charlie said so.

  They stood to leave and the floor heaved under her feet.

  Joe grabbed her arm and grinned.

  “Need to get her some fresh air,” he said as the hostess opened the outer door for them.

  She leaned against the side of Joe’s car as he searched for his keys.

  “I knew you would try something like this.”

  At the sound of Nate’s voice, Ruth jerked her head up. The parking lot spun, and she leaned heavily against the car. Nate stood just feet from Joe, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The sight was too much. She started to giggle.

  Joe’s eyes were little more than slits. “What are you doing here, Nate?”

  “She’s too good for you.”

  Joe shrugged his shoulders, unlocked the car, and opened the passenger door. He nudged Ruth with his arm. “Get in the car.” He turned to Nate. “What do you care? She’s used goods, and you always hated my hand-me-downs.”