by Linda Wisdom
“Don’t blame yourself,” Jess scolded, grabbing her shoulders. “You know very well he liked to ride along deserted roads. It could have happened now or later, no matter what we had done.”
“He’s right, Sara,” Tess added. “How many times had you told Tim to be careful along some of those roads? More times than you and I would care to count.”
But Sara couldn’t be comforted. She kept pacing the floor, lost in a sorrow of her own making until an unexpected voice intruded.
“Sara.”
Positive her ears were playing tricks on her, Sara looked up and saw Mrs. Masterson standing in the doorway. “I hope you’re happy,” Sara spat out. “My son could be dying, and you’ve always wanted me to suffer. Well, now it’s happening. Is that why you’re here, to gloat?”
“Sara!” Jess said sharply.
Mrs. Masterson held up her hand to silence his further words. “No, let her talk out her pain.” She looked at the others. “Could we be left alone?” All four looked wary. The older woman smiled wryly. “Please don’t worry, I just would like to talk to Sara in private.”
That was the first time the woman had called her by name, Sara realized, but her eyes were wary, fearing the older woman would find another one of her weaknesses and pounce on them. Or had she come here to tell Jess he was fired and wanted to tell Sara it was all her fault? Sara still didn’t trust her.
“Millie Kirkpatrick told me your story,” she began. For once the older woman looked uncertain. “I realize I’ve acted your enemy over the years.”
“If that was acting, you deserve an Academy Award.”
Mrs. Masterson winced. “Let me explain something to you. A story that is not well known.” She sat down on the couch, her spine ramrod stiff. She went on to talk about a boy she had known in school, a boy she thought she loved, but who was deemed unsuitable by her father. And while she loved the boy she didn’t love him enough to go against her father and instead married someone her father approved of. Those feelings were carried all through the years, and in her way, she envied Sara for keeping to her true love in the face of pain and sometimes hate. “I guess I resented you for your courage,” she said simply.
Sara stared at her, unable to believe the woman had been so candid with her. “Courage? Oh, no, I didn’t have courage. If it hadn’t been for my true friends, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Mrs. Masterson nodded. “Yes, you are very rich in friends. My so-called friends will only stay with me as long as I have what they call power. Others call me a bitter old woman and a few other names that wouldn’t bear repeating.” She smiled. “I think that’s why I was always so cold to you, you had what I didn’t. My husband was a good man, but he was also a weak one, and I always resented him for that.”
Sara bowed her head as she absorbed Mrs. Masterson’s words. She doubted the older woman wanted her sympathy; it wasn’t her style. Her brain was already reeling so much she doubted she could take in anything else. She wondered if Mrs. Masterson ever felt lonely; she couldn’t have had true friends, after all. Too many people were afraid of her.
Just as suddenly, the older woman reverted back to her old iron-willed self. “What I have told you is not for public consumption,” she said stiffly.
Sara looked up and said wryly, “Of course you would immediately suspect me of taking advantage of you. Don’t worry, I don’t work that way.”
The faintest trace of a smile touched Mrs. Masterson’s lips. “I suppose you’re still going to run that gas station, which isn’t the proper image for a pastor’s wife.”
“Other than sit here and wait until I have word about my son, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Eyes not faded by age looked her up and down. “Yes, you do, because you will do what you feel is right and hang the rest of the town, won’t you?”
“No, not hang the town, but I can’t live for everyone. I realize my life will change because of my marriage to Jess, and I’m more than willing to accept that.”
Mrs. Masterson thought over her words. “We’ll see,” was all she said. She picked up her purse and stood up. For a moment the warmth that must have been hidden deep down inside flickered outward. “I do hope your son is all right. He’s always been a wild boy. Perhaps with Reverend Larkin’s direction he’ll finally settle down. One thing, I know my granddaughter was behind what happened. She enjoys manipulating people too much. I only hope she learns her lesson before it’s too late.” With that she left, walking with stately grace past the four people in the hall.
“Sara,” Jess called out to her when he saw the doctor approach them. She ran over to Jess, reaching out for his strength as he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly against him.
“He’s one lucky kid,” the doctor told them. “He’s been in recovery for a little while, but I wanted to make sure his signs remained fairly stable before I came out to see you. He’s been drifting in and out for about the past twenty minutes.”
“May we see him?” she begged. He smiled. “I didn’t think I’d be able to keep you away for too long.”
Sara and Jess approached the bed Tim lay in. She choked back a sob as she stared at all the apparatus used to keep his vital signs monitored and the sling holding his plaster-encased leg off the bed.
“He looks so small,” she breathed, holding her fingers against her lips.
Tim’s eyes fluttered open. “Hi,” he croaked. “My bike’s pretty messed up, huh?”
“Your bike? If I were you I wouldn’t worry so much about that as about you getting well.” she gasped, trying hard not to cry. “You don’t look so good yourself.”
Tim looked past her toward Jess. “I did a lot of thinking last night before all this happened,” he whispered. “I’m still not too sure how I feel about you, but you could have written me off, and you didn’t, so I guess I should try to do the same.”
Jess’s smile was wobbly. “Fair enough.”
Sara collapsed in the chair by Tim’s bed, one of her hands holding Tim’s, the other gripping Jess’s. It wouldn’t be easy, but they were a family, and who said families ever had it easy?
Epilogue
Sara dressed in a frilly cotton and lace robe and served dinner in the living room by candlelight. She and Jess had spent a majority of the past week at the hospital keeping watch over Tim even though the doctor and nurses patiently, and sometimes impatiently, assured them he was in excellent hands. This was the first evening they had spent home alone, and they vowed to concentrate on nothing else but each other.
“I told Jackson I’d shoot him if he came back before midnight,” she announced, setting the plates on the coffee table.
They ate their meal talking occasionally, but never voicing the thought that was always in the back of their minds. No word had come from the deacon board yet, and Jess knew they would probably make a decision soon.
“Jess, they can’t afford to lose someone as good as you,” Sara said suddenly, reaching across the table for his hand.
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Well, we have to wait and see, don’t we? Don’t worry, Sara, I’ve put our problem in more capable hands. What’s meant to happen, will.”
She nodded. “Well, eat up because the minute your plate is clean I intend to seduce you.”
He grinned. “I could live with that.” He proceeded to eat his dinner in record time. When finished he picked up his plate and Sara’s which was still half covered with food, and carried them into the kitchen. “We’re done.”
Sara looked up at him, thinking of the fact she hadn’t had a chance to eat since this morning and had looked forward to the steak. Without another thought she stood up and put her arms around his neck. Their lips had barely touched when the doorbell rang.
Jess sighed and seriously thought about ignoring it.
“It could be important,” Sara said softly.
“Then they can send a telegram,” he muttered, bending his head to hers just as the bell rang again. “
All right, I can take a hint. I’ll be right back. This visitor will not be staying long.”
“Go get him,” she teased.
Jess threw open the door prepared to offer the caller a suggestion they come back later when he realized Leon MacIntyre was standing in front of him.
“Reverend,” the man greeted him. “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I stopped by the hospital, and they said you and your wife were home. I’m glad to hear the boy is doing all right.”
“Thank you. Won’t you please come in?” Jess stepped back. Sara stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, her face a bright pink with embarrassment. Most women weren’t caught wearing their robes at seven o’clock in the evening. “Mrs. Larkin.” Leon inclined his head toward her.
“Please, sit down.” She gestured toward the couch. As soon as the older man was seated, he turned to Jess. “I think you can understand our decision has not been an easy one,” he said without preamble. “Some of the board are pretty narrow-minded.” Jess hung his head, positive he already knew why the head deacon had come. “But there’s more of us who look beyond the surface. We’re hoping you’ll stay with us, Reverend;’ he explained. “A few of the men figure you’re the perfect man to set up some kind of youth group for our town.”
Sara exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“Exactly,” Jess murmured. “Leon, I would like to stay and work with the people I’ve come to know and respect.”
Leon stood up. “Well, I won’t keep you folks any longer.” He looked down at Jess. “I can’t guarantee you it will be easy, because some don’t think you should stay, but the rest of us will be there supporting you.” He nodded at Sara. “Mrs. Larkin.”
When they were left alone, they couldn’t hide their broad grins. “It looks as if the official pastor of Henderson’s Community Church resides here,” Sara enthused.
He caught her up in his arms and spun her around. “And he’s a very happy man,” he laughed, then sobered. “Leon’s right, it won’t be easy. We’ll have a lot of hard work ahead of us.”
“You’re a fighter, Jess,” she reminded him. “You’ll do fine.”
He thought about the work ahead of him and knew she was right. But he also knew it could be worse. “One day at a time,” he replied. “We’ll just take it one day at a time and things will work out.”
Sara smiled, having been witness to the slow but steady progress he had already made with Tim. “I have no doubt about that.”
