The Runaway Pastor's Wife

by Diane Moody

  Officer Kelly responded. “It sounds as if this whole episode was just an unfortunate accident. Max, we appreciate your honesty. However, I think we may still have a bit of a problem. Mr. Harrison wants to press charges. That means unless you discuss this with him and he agrees to drop the whole thing, we will have to make an official arrest. But Pastor McGregor, under the circumstances, I believe we can give you some time to talk to Mr. Harrison and see if you can’t work this out.”

  Eagle’s Nest

  “Hello-this-is-the-McGregor’s-home-Jessica-speaking.”

  “Jessie? Jess, it’s Mommy. How are you, sweetheart?”

  “Mommy! Oh, Mommy, I miss you so much! When can you come home?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, it’s going to be awhile yet,” Annie said, hoping to change the subject to evade any more questions. “How is everything with you, honey? How’s school?”

  “School is fine, Mom, but guess what? There’s two policemen here and they’re talking to Max and Daddy. I think Max must’a got in real big trouble!”

  Annie sat up. “Jessie, what do you mean? What’s happened? Did Max get a speeding ticket?” Jessie must be confused. Max never gets in any kind of trouble.

  “I don’t know, Mommy. They made me leave and come in here to the kitchen.”

  “Sweetie, I think I better speak to Daddy. Can you go get him for me?” Annie tried to sound as casual as possible.

  “Sure, Mom. I’ll go get him. Just a minute, okay?”

  Annie felt another deep stab of guilt. What am I doing out here in the middle of nowhere when—

  “Annie? I’m so sorry we missed your call last night. The kids were—”

  “David, what’s going on? Jessie said the police were there and Max was in some kind of trouble?”

  “Honey, it’s nothing to worry about. Max had a little run-in with Chet Harrison at school today. That’s all. And evidently Chet wanted to spook Max so he called the police. The whole thing is ridiculous. We’ve told the police exactly what happened and it’s no big deal. I would tell you if it were otherwise.”

  “But what about Max? Did he get hurt? Is he all right?”

  “Honey, I’m telling you—he’s just fine. A little ticked off at his teacher, but no more than I am.”

  “Chet Harrison . . .”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. It was Chet.”

  Silence.

  “Annie, what is it? What’s the matter?”

  “Oh—I’m sorry. You know how I feel about Chet.”

  David softly chuckled. “I know how lots of folks feel about Chet. He’s a challenge even on his best days.” He paused. “Annie, how are you?”

  She looked at her carefully wrapped foot propped upon on a couple of pillows. She truthfully felt no pain at the moment so answered, “I’m okay, I guess. I’ve had a lot of time for some serious soul-searching and that’s why I’m here. But it’s even more obvious to me now than when I came just how much I have yet to work through.”

  “I’m glad you’re making some headway. But I miss you so much. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, sweetheart. I’ve been such a—”

  “No, David, please. That’s not why I called. I really don’t want to get into that now. We can talk about all of it when I get back.”

  “But I have to tell you. You need to know. I will do whatever it takes.”

  “Honey, please. Not now.”

  “I’ll walk away from this church if that’s what it takes. We’ll move if we need to. We’ll find something—”

  “I’m going to hang up if you keep this up. I’m not ready to talk about it!” She didn’t mean to snap at him.

  His weary sigh washed over the line. “Okay, okay. But if you hear nothing else, hear this. I love you, Annie McGregor. I love you.” Hearing his voice quiver sent a bruising ache to her heart.

  “I know. I love you too. But I know this is where I’m supposed to be right now. I have to do this.”

  “I just wish you’d let me come to you. I wouldn’t interfere, Annie. I promise you that. I’d just be there with you. Help you in any way I can. I’d stay out of your way—hey, I can be your butler. How about it? You know, cook your meals, clean up for you—anything you need. What do you say?”

  Annie couldn’t help laughing. He sounded just like Jeremy when he was younger, begging for quarters to buy something from the ice cream truck. “David, I’ve got to do this alone. Please don’t make it any harder than it already is.”

  “Then at least give me a phone number where I can reach you.”

  “No. Please stop this. Don’t you see? I came here to get away from the pressures. All the pressures. If you keep this up, I’ll have to stop calling.” She hated the edge in her voice. “It’s just important to me that you understand my need for this time alone.”

  “I know and I’m the one who’s sorry. I won’t pressure you anymore. At least I’ll try not to. Just don’t stop calling me. That would make me crazy. Promise?”

  Annie sighed. “I promise, David.” She wiped her nose on a Kleenex. “Let’s change the subject. Is everyone else all right?”

  “Everyone else is fine. We’re getting by, I guess. Mom’s been great. Oh—speaking of moms—”

  “Oh no.”

  “I’m afraid so. Darlene called again. And poor Jessie—she didn’t know any better. She told Darlene you’d gone away and—well, you can probably figure out your mother’s response.”

  “Don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know.” She could imagine her mother’s reaction practically word for word. “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah, that bad. But we’ve stalled her as best as we could. I’m sure she’ll come exploding in here any time now. But we’ll handle her. I’ve had years of practice when it comes to dodging Darlene.”

  Annie smiled but didn’t comment.

  “Annie, I’m—” He paused.

  She knew he was struggling. “David, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Give my love to Jeremy and Max and Jessie. Oh, and Caroline too. Thank her for me, okay? For everything. And tell Max I’ll be praying for him.” She felt her throat tighten. “I love you, David McGregor.”

  “I love you too. Take care, sweetheart.”

  Annie slowly hung up the receiver. Her eyes tracked toward the crackling fire. Out of the dancing flames rose the sneering face of Chet Harrison. He threw his head back in an evil, mocking guffaw. Her mind replayed the exchange she had tried so hard to forget. It was, after all, the final straw. The scene rolled through her mind like a forbidden video.

  “Mrs. McGregor!”

  An invisible shiver crawled down her back at the sound of the familiar voice. She continued pushing the cart of groceries to her van, hoping and praying that voice and that man wouldn’t follow her.

  No such luck.

  “Why, Mrs. McGregor—you wouldn’t be ignoring one of your fellow church members now, would you?”

  “Oh hello, Chet.” She opened the rear door of her van and began to load her groceries.

  He had purposefully wedged himself between her and her cart, hindering her task. She could hear him jangling the change in his pockets as he seemed to inch even closer. It was an annoying habit, his trademark. To maintain her “safety zone” she backed up until she felt the bumper press against the back of her legs.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Chet, do you mind? I’m a little busy here, okay?”

  “Why, am I bothering you? Have I done something to upset you?” His feigned innocence pushed her blood pressure through the roof. “You know I would never do anything to upset my pastor’s lovely wife, now would I?”

  “Chet, it was nice seeing you. A real pleasure, as always. But if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get these groceries home before the ice cream melts.”

  He moved in even closer. “Oh, I can assure you the treat was all mine, Annie. Everyone is always telling me what a fine, friendly Christian woman you are and I thought this coincidental little meeting of ours would be jus
t the opportunity for me to find out how friendly you really are. See if you really are as nice as they all say. Especially to someone like me who’s not one of your husband’s favorite deacons. In fact, I’ve even heard it said he considers me his ‘thorn in the flesh.’ Now, why do you suppose he would say something like that? Or maybe I should ask you. Am I a thorn in your flesh?”

  She tried to estimate the distance between their noses. Four? Maybe five inches? Definitely too close. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Chet,” she said casually, shoving him out of her way and forcing the cart between them. “I think you’d better go.” She turned her back to deposit two more bags into the van.

  “Oh, come now, Annie. You don’t mind me calling you Annie, do you? A pretty lady like you probably has lots of men around town calling you all sorts of things.”

  Another chill raced up her back. She turned to face him, forcing an indifferent expression on her countenance. “Do you have something to say, Chet, or are you just trying to harass me?”

  “Well now! Aren’t you just the sassy little wench?” His suggestive chuckle arced between them as he drew even closer. “Spirited—ooooooh, I like that in a woman. Oh, I bet you and our fine pastor have some pretty naughty times together behind closed doors, don’t you? Why, I’d wager a feisty little thing like you knows just how to—”

  She slapped him across the face. Stunned, Harrison reeled backward, his hand protectively guarding his cheek.

  Annie teetered dangerously close to the edge of control. “You pathetic excuse for a human being! You may have fooled everyone else, but you don’t fool me. You parade around like some pious, holier-than-thou saint, but you’re nothing but a fraud, Chet Harrison. You’re a despicable hypocrite—I know it, you know it, David knows it—and God sure as hell knows it!”

  His face crimsoned, his eyes narrowed. His hand curled into a fist as he lowered it from his face, his entire body shaking. She’d never seen him so angry. Her heart raced as she grabbed the rest of her groceries. Suddenly, Harrison grabbed the cart and hurled it as hard has he could, sailing it across the parking lot. It crashed into a shiny red sports car setting off the security alarm in a piercing shriek.

  “Have a nice day, Mrs. McGregor,” he hissed, casually walking away as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Too angry to cry, Annie’s chest heaved as she fought to slow her breath. She walked toward her cart as it slowly rolled backwards. Fortunately, no visible damage was done to the convertible. Her hands trembled as she searched for a scrap of paper in her purse and wrote down her name and number to leave for the owner in case he wished to contact her. The alarm wailed on as she headed back to her car towing the cart behind her.

  David never heard about the incident. When he had returned home that evening, it was after midnight. The two-year-old child of a young couple at church had tragically drowned in the family pool that afternoon. The teenage baby-sitter, having a fight on her cell with her boyfriend, did not realize the child had wandered outside. David had remained at the hospital with the devastated parents until they made the decision to pull the life-support plug on their brain-dead child.

  He arrived home emotionally and physically drained. Any lingering anger Annie may have harbored toward Chet Harrison was immediately buried deep inside. That bitterness would have to be resolved some other time. It seemed so trivial at a time like this. She felt only the purest heartache for these grieving parents.

  Still, as selfish or childish as it may seem, she couldn’t release the fact that David, as always, was available to minister to everyone else in need, but had no time or emotional strength left for the needs of his own family—trivial or otherwise. He had no clue of the pain in his own home.

  It had happened only days ago. Annie had tried to pray about it, hoping to find some forgiveness in her heart with God’s help. Instead, the smoldering anger from that encounter had burned incessantly, along with the sting of unintentional neglect from David. In the days following, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. As always, he was too overwhelmed with everything else that was going on. It was as if the heartaches and illnesses and tragedies within the church family and within her own heart were snowballing faster and faster.

  But Annie had sensed for quite some time that there was more to it than that. Up until the last few months, she had never given serious thought to the possibility of spiritual warfare. The whole subject had always been rather obscure to her. A little frightened by it, she avoided any study on the concept. Yet, deep inside, she knew there were factors involved beyond the superficial. Too many attacks from too many different angles to be mere coincidence.

  Yet, every time Annie’s thoughts drifted into that spiritual arena, she felt uneasy, like she was tiptoeing into dangerous waters. She resisted the urge to think about it further. Not now. Not like this.

  God, Your silence is filling me with fear. I don’t understand it. I want so much to work through all of these things with You. But everything is wrong. At home, here—everything! I need You to answer me!

  CHAPTER 17

  Weber Creek, Colorado

  After trailing along behind the stranger’s truck, Michael made his exit on the side road, waving to the kind man who had helped him. The heater in his car was turned on high, but Michael couldn’t stop shivering. His clothes were soaked. He was freezing. He refused to take any more medication after his near-accident, though the pain was excruciating. Mostly, he feared the weakness sweeping over his body. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

  Michael had been to Christine’s cabin once before a few years ago. In the area while on a ski trip with several of his former Astros teammates, he had slipped away in a rental car to make a surprise visit. After getting directions in town, he made his way to her cabin only to find it locked up tight and no sign of Christine. He left a note wedged in the door but never heard from her.

  Now, as if driving in a slow-motion dream, he remembered the way up to her mountain. He drove up the twisting snow-packed road grateful for the powerful strength of his four-wheel drive. His breath came in shallow, anxious pants, quickly steaming up the windshield. Normally pristine about his automobiles, Michael made messy, careless swipes on the glass leaving broad, wet smears that only blurred his vision worse.

  Unspoken prayers drifted through his mind in fragments. Oh God, please help me.

  He came to another fork in the road and instinctively knew which way to turn. Heavy eyelids impaired his vision, but he sensed the cabin was near. Michael slowed to a stop, the windshield wipers beating a frantic rhythm against the quiet hum of his engine. He backed up the car to aim his headlights at the entrance of a driveway. A large stone mailbox boasted shiny brass numerals but no name. Then he spotted a slate sign hanging from a log post. It flew wildly in the blustering wind making it impossible for Michael to read. Then, in the briefest of moments, the wind died just long enough for the sign to right itself.

  Eagle’s Nest

  Private Property

  Overcome with emotion, tears rolled down Michael’s cheeks. His breathing puffed faster now as he willed himself to go on. The Escalade crunched carefully over the long, snow-packed drive that climbed gently higher. At last he made a final turn, the cabin appearing like a mirage before him. A sob caught in his throat as he stopped the car and turned off the ignition. And yes, there were lights glowing through the windows and a trail of smoke rising from the great stone chimney.

  She’s home! Christine will help me now. I’m safe!

  Every movement made his head swim. His left hand shook wildly as he reached for the door handle of his car. It took every ounce of his strength and determination to turn his body toward the door. He shoved the door open with his left foot, ducking down against the gust of snow that blew in.

  “Christine . . .” His shout was little more than a whisper.

  He curled his body around his bleeding right side and took careful, agonizing steps around the car.

  Please God, ju
st a few more steps . . . help me!

  He peered up just enough to see the cabin sway from side to side. The house is dancing. Why is Christine’s house dancing? I don’t hear any music . . .

  And with that strange, whimsical thought puzzling his fevered mind, he collapsed in a heap of snow.

  What was that?

  Annie jolted out of a dead sleep, her eyes darting around the room. A moment later, a pair of lights traveled across the room followed by the sound of a car’s engine. Who would it be at this time of night? Doc?

  She noticed the fireplace, a low flame skirting along a smaller pile of logs. Annie checked her wristwatch. Eleven forty-five. Doc Wilkins wouldn’t come back to check on me this late at night.

  The sound of an idling engine, much closer now, interrupted her thoughts. She started to stand up then remembered her foot. Straining to reach for the crutches beside the sofa, she fumbled them awkwardly in her attempt to stand up. Once she got her balance, she slowly hobbled toward the window.

  She held back the curtain enough to peek outside. The wind swirled the heavy snowfall in a wild dance in front of the cabin. Parked a few yards out in the driveway was a large dark automobile, its headlights still beaming. She cupped her hand against the window pane. The onslaught of snow made it all but impossible to detect any movement.

  A shiver fingered Annie’s back. Torn between a sense of danger and an unsettling curiosity, she debated what to do. What if someone was in trouble and had stopped by for help? Then again, what if it were a prowler or some other kind of criminal? Here she was—all alone out in the middle of nowhere.