A short siren sounded, then, a piercing blip-blip. At the edge of the parking lot, a policeman exited his car holding a megaphone.
“Sir, please step away from the lady. Both of you, hands up where I can see them.”
“Do what he says,” Nick said.
“Nothing’s wrong here,” Angelina said. “He’s my husband.”
The officer laid his hand on his weapon and approached.
He motioned with his head. “That your car?”
“Yes, sir,” Nick said.
“You broke down?”
“No, sir, not exactly.”
“Got some ID on you?”
“In my wallet.”
“Turn around,” the officer said as he reached them. “I have to frisk you. You got any weapons?”
“No,” they answered.
“Let’s see that wallet, and you can tell me why you’re out here skirting the woods.”
They walked back to the cruiser.
“You got any ID, ma’am?”
“In my purse. In the car.”
“Let’s go get it.”
He verified their IDs, then took off his shades. “So, what’s your story?”
Angie stared at the ground as Nick answered the officer. She grabbed Nick’s hand.
“I’m at the end of my shift,” the policeman said. “You two look like you could use a bite to eat. How about you follow me up to the new Shoney’s. I’ll get you some food and help you figure out where you go next.”
She waited to speak until they got back in Nick’s car. “Do we have to go with him?”
“You mean legally?”
“Yes.”
“I guess not. But why shouldn’t we? Might as well get a free meal. We’ve got nothing better to do.”
“Except go home.” Her stomach growled; she glanced at Nick. “Don’t laugh!”
***
Nick followed the detour signs off the two-lane highway and finally had to admit the truth. They were lost. On the outskirts of a place called Rowe City.
But there was no city. There were mostly peanut fields and corn fields and deer crossing signs, which in the coming darkness would not be visible at a distance. Rowe City didn’t waste money on street lights.
“We should have driven home the way we came,” he said.
“But the officer said we’d save time and gas if we went this way.”
“He obviously didn’t know about the detours.”
Nick rolled to a stop at a four-way. Frame houses dotted the landscape. Across the street, one sat with its front porch light shining brightly. A large yard lay to the left, then beyond and behind that, thick woods. One day he’d love to own property like that.
“Let’s go back, see if we can find the highway.” Angelina raised her head from his shoulder. “It’s getting dark, and don’t we need gas?”
“I think we’re heading east. If we keep going, we should eventually reach Dothan, the next big town.”
“Big like this one?” She half giggled.
“You haven’t smiled like that in a while.” He checked the road in all directions—not a vehicle in sight.
He put the car in PARK. “Being married hasn’t been easy like we thought it would be.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Now do you see why having money is so important? Why I want to make lots of money for us?”
She blinked against tears and nodded.
He held her tight. “Don’t cry. My mother cried all the time over my father leaving her, over not having enough money, out of constant fear she’d lose one of her jobs and not be able to pay the rent. It’s like I’ve already failed you.”
“You haven’t failed me.”
“Angie, I can’t even get us home.” Headlights approached from behind. He put his twenty-six-year-old Buick in gear. “Next country store or gas station we see, we stop and ask for new directions.”
“Good idea.”
He pulled forward, passing the wooden house on the left corner. Was the speed limit really thirty-five here? His headlights flashed across headstones, then a large wooden sign which said Rowe City Gospel Church “The Barn Church.” No cars sat in the grass parking lot, but the lights burned inside the huge barn-like structure.
He slowed. “My mom asked for help from a church once. They gave us food from their food bank and helped her find another job.”
“My dad always made fun of Christians and churches. Especially those with signs that read ‘Turn or Burn’ or ‘Try Jesus—If You Don’t Like Him the Devil Will Take You Back.’ Do we have to stop at a church?”
“There’s nothing else around here. No stupid sign out front. Maybe this one’s just a bunch of do-gooders.”
He turned in.
“If you’re going in there, I’m going with you,” she said. “I’m not staying out here by myself.”
As they got out of the car, he scanned the area by the faint light of a crescent moon. The night pulsed with the chorus of cicadas. The sky looked like the bottom of a dark blue bowl.
“Nick, it’s so peaceful here. Is this just how Alabama feels?”
“I don’t know.”
He led her to the large double doors. He knocked, listened, but no one came. From inside, he heard a belt of laughter.
He pushed open the door with a creak.
“Shush, you.” A slender woman, probably in her mid-fifties, dusted padded pews on one side of the center aisle. A man did the same on the other side, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.
“I’m thinking about telling that one this Sunday. Pierce will never know.”
“Don’t you dare. Even if he is grown and has his own life, our son wouldn’t want you telling that story to the whole congregation.”
Nick stepped inside and felt a quiet he’d never felt before.
“Excuse me. Ma’am? Sir? We’re lost. I wonder if you might give us some directions.”
A look passed between the two of them.
“I’ll keep going.” The woman continued dusting the pews. “You go find out what they need.”
The man approached and extended his hand. “Daniel Crane. My wife is Kay.”
“Nick and Angelina Rousseau. We’re driving back to Florida from Troy, got lost after the detours. Can you direct us back to the highway?”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“No, sir, not particularly, but it’s getting late, and we’ve got a long way to drive.”
“You looking for a hotel, son?”
Kay finished cleaning a pew and walked over. “Daniel, don’t pry.”
“I’m a preacher. Prying’s what we do.”
“No, sir, we’re going to drive on home.”
Kay elbowed Daniel. “We’d be happy to have you stay with us. Our guest room hardly gets used. It’s the house on the corner. Come on, Daniel, lock up. We’re going home.”
“You’re willing to leave with only half the pews dusted?”
“They’ll keep. Priorities,” Kay said.
Nick turned to Angie. “Let’s do it,” he whispered.
“I don’t know. Shouldn’t we just go home?”
“If it gets weird, we can still leave.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Crane. We’ll meet you there.”
***
Nicholas opened his eyes to the glaring sunlight. A rooster crowed. Was that what had woken him? How cool was that?
He reached for his watch on the small bedside table. Just after seven. He’d slept straight through the night, even though he was in a strange bed, in a strange house, in a little town that seemed to be stuck in an earlier, slower time. No wonder his brain was firing, anxious to get up and get moving.
He sniffed deep at Angelina’s hair where it fell across his face. She was snuggled tight against his side, her hand fisted on his chest. Part of him wanted to turn to her and make love in the quiet of the morning. But another part wanted to go talk to the people who’d opened their ho
me. Something about the couple made him feel welcomed.
Pipes rattled in the walls. He remembered the sound from one old house he and his mother had lived in.
“You think too loudly.” Eyes still closed, Angelina pulled the quilt up to her chin.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t say you did; I said you’re a loud thinker. Why won’t you sleep late when you have the chance?”
He stroked her hair. “Can’t.”
“Last night, Kay said they’ll be gone all day, but they don’t mind us staying here. We could lie in bed all day. Go for a walk through those woods you admire so much.”
“We could.” He smelled bacon and grinned. “Or, we could go see what smells so good.”
“Oh, Nicholas. Really?” She buried her head under a pillow. “I don’t want food. You know I’m not a morning person.”
“You can sleep later. Let’s go see what they’re doing today. I bet this place looks even better in full daylight.”
While Angie brushed her hair, he dressed quickly, left, and eased the door shut behind him. He took several steps and stopped to listen.
“Be quiet, you.” Kay’s voice came from the kitchen. “And don’t flip those pancakes too early.”
“You’re a hard woman, making a man wait on his pancakes.”
“Ooooh. Like you might wither away.”
“I like your apron.”
She giggled. “Quit, you. We have company.”
“They’re still sleeping.”
“Nope. I heard a floorboard. Flip the pancakes.”
Sure enough, the floors creaked as he walked down the hall through the center of the home, turned right into the dining room and kitchen.
“Good morning, Daniel. Kay. Thank you again for letting us stay the night.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Kay said. “Daniel’s finishing your first batch of pancakes.”
“I thought these were mine.” Daniel reached for bacon drying on a paper towel; Kay swatted his hand.
“Go on to the table, you two,” she said. “I’ll start another batch and bring your plates.”
The men sat.
Daniel leaned forward. “See, if you irritate them enough, they won’t want your help anymore.”
Nicholas laughed. “Is that your best marriage advice?”
“Not my best, son, but it’s good stuff. Would you mind giving me a moment to bless our meal?”
“Okay.”
Daniel bowed his head. “Dear God, thank You for this food …”
Nicholas glanced over.
Daniel placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank You for our new friends, Nicholas and Angelina …”
His throat tightened, and he lowered his gaze to the table. Sure, over the years he’d heard a prayer or two, but he’d never heard anyone pray for him. Daniel’s doing so seemed to spotlight a deficit he hadn’t known was there.
His mother had worked to support him, loved him, and cheered for him. But self-confidence, a feeling of security had always eluded him. He couldn’t remember a time a man had touched him, let alone with genuine kindness and care. More than a financial provider. Was this what he’d missed not having a dad?
“Please bless this food, Heavenly Father,” Daniel said. “Amen.”
Heavenly Father.
What else was Nick missing?
CHAPTER THREE
Angelina looked out the back seat window as Daniel drove them all down the long dirt road. When the wind blew, the fields moved in waves much as the Atlantic did back in St. Augustine. But there were no strip malls here. She’d not seen a McDonald’s or video rental store on the corners they’d passed.
In the front seat, Kay turned around. “If you two don’t really want to stay, don’t really want to do this, say the word, and I’ll take you back to the house.”
“We’re fine,” Nick answered for them both.
If Angelina had had her way, she and Nick would still be in bed, talking about what they were going to do next. Or maybe already driving, almost halfway home to St. Augustine.
“Don’t you love it here?” Nick whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know.”
“Everything smells so fresh. It’s quiet and peaceful, and I don’t know, homey.”
“You mean white picket fence homey? Having babies homey?”
Their eyes met, and she felt the jolt, that lovely jolt from knowing he wanted her, only her.
He grinned. “Yeah. All I need is a good job.”
Which he wasn’t going to find here in the land of fields and fences and dirt roads.
He kissed her cheek. “Let’s just take the day, Angie. Forget about everything and see what happens. We can have Kay drive us back later if you really want to leave.”
“All right.”
They turned down a single-car width lane and rolled to a stop. Four old frame houses, one of them two-story, sat apart on the sloped ground. In the distance, a large tractor drove across a field, clearing a path through what looked like hay.
“Tell me again why they’re doing this,” she whispered to Nick.
“Daniel and Kay are schoolteachers. So, they’re off in the summer.”
“But they run the church all year.”
“Right. Last spring a tornado whipped through, damaging several farms and homes. Daniel said someone from The Barn Church knows the Skinner family, so the congregation decided to help them. Cool, huh?”
“Doesn’t school start in a week or so?”
“That’s why they’ve got to finish now. Various people from the church have been out here all summer. They’re like a big family.”
The excitement in his voice made her smile. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I’ve never done construction work before. They’ll be hanging the last of the siding on the main house. Today I’ll learn how.” He kissed her quickly. “I’m going with Daniel. Find me if you need me.”
“Well—” She was about to say I’d rather stay with you. But he was already gone.
Probably a dozen cars and trucks were parked in the yard. Children ran in circles playing tag. Women of various ages stood on the porch or went in and out of the house.
Kay opened Angie’s door. “Overwhelmed?”
“A little.”
Kay studied her. “Nick makes friends easily. Not so easy for you?”
Angie got out. “You could say that.”
“Angelina, you might be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Kay cocked her head. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? To men, you’re an opportunity, to women you’re a threat. How terribly lonely for you.”
She looked out into the fields. How could this woman, a near stranger, know so much about her? Since meeting last evening, they’d barely spoken.
“Most people think my looks make me confident.”
“Instead, you’ve had to be leery of everyone, haven’t you? Oh, you beautiful girl. You’re safe here. Come meet the other ladies. Let them welcome you.”
“Why would they?”
“Because that’s what people who love God do. And like I said before … if you really want to leave, I’ll take you home.”
They walked toward the main house.
“I’ve never known anyone like you, Kay. Especially from a church.”
“That’s too bad.” Kay glanced at her as they walked up the stairs. “Thanks for not judging me based on my faith or my appearance.”
“What?”
“I’m a pastor’s wife, and I’m not as young and attractive as you.” She gestured to a short, round woman who stepped forward with a grin. “Angie, this is my best friend, Millie Newman. Millie, Angelina Rousseau.”
Millie caught her hand and patted it. “Look what God made. Youngin’, you are lovely.”
She didn’t know what surprised her more—being called youngin’ or being told she was lovely, then looked upon without jealousy, speculation, or judgment.
Sh
e remembered her father mocking people of faith. Christianity is just a lot of people claiming to have the same imaginary friend. They’re as mean and greedy and thoughtless as the rest of us. They’ll stab you in the back like everyone else.
Hadn’t he done exactly that when she hadn’t complied with his directive to pursue a business degree?
How she’d always wanted friends. Dare she take a chance Kay’s kindness was real? That the other women would be as hospitable?
She turned to Kay. A slow, loving smile spread on the woman’s face, and she opened her arms.
Angie sagged into the embrace. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Nicholas had held her.
“I’d like to stay,” she said. “Would you introduce me to the others?”
***
He couldn’t believe how at home he felt in this little town, in this old frame house, with people he’d met last night.
Nicholas knew it wasn’t only the quiet of the country or the smell of peanut fields across the road or even the fact he was sitting in an old rocking chair on a house-length porch. He’d found something in Rowe City. He’d found freely-offered friendship and a sense of home, and if he let himself think it, he figured he was also finding a curiosity about faith.
In the nearby rocker, Daniel reached in his shirt pocket. “We worked hard today. You did, anyway. I prefer supervising. Want some Juicy-Fruit?”
Nick laughed. Daniel had indeed been quite the supervisor. “Do you always chew that awful gum?”
“None as good as Juicy-Fruit. I love the stuff.”
“Yes.” Kay rose from the swing at the end of the porch. “He always chews it. Spends a fortune. We should buy stock in the company.”
Daniel popped his gum. “That’s a good idea. Married a smart woman—smart enough to pick me.”
“Smart enough to know when she’s about to burn dinner.” She patted Daniel as she walked by.
Nick waited to speak until she’d shut the door behind her.
“Did Kay leave us here on purpose?”
Daniel rocked. “Probably. Your engine’s been running since we got back from the Skinner farm.”
“My engine’s running?”
“Yep. If these rocking chairs had wheels, you’d be twenty miles ahead of me down the road.”
“I guess you’re right.” Nick slowed his pace. “How come you’re not beating me over the head with a Bible and screaming at me about hell like some street-preacher with a megaphone?”
Abide With Me Page 3
