Her mouth firmed. He would have to bring that up.
“Get used to it, Grace. We’re stuck with each other until this is over.”
Her worst nightmare. Her dark head fell forward. “Please, Lord, give me strength.”
“Same thing I asked.”
Her head snapped up. She couldn’t decide if he was teasing her or being sincere.
Dimples winked in his handsome nut-brown face as he grinned down at her. “Thought I was a heathen?”
She thought of Caleb as little as possible. “I have to go or I’ll be late.”
“That would be a first,” he said. “Revelation has practice tonight at seven. You can come before we get started and we can tell them together. Then, if it’s all right with you, I’ll drop in on your choir practice tomorrow night and we can tell them.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You know my gospel choir has practice on Tuesdays?”
His expression held a hint of long-suffering. “The schedule again. You weren’t able to teach classes at night last year or this because of your obligations at church. You’re doing the early evening classes instead.”
Caleb had taken up the slack both times. It was unusual for the chair of the department to have night classes even at a small junior college. She’d thanked him, but she didn’t like being obligated to him. She hadn’t felt the same way when Dr. Alton had allowed her to not teach night classes. “I’m still trying to see if another teacher will take the class. In the meantime, I appreciate your sensitivity. My church means a lot to me.”
He looked at her strangely. “Church means a great deal to a lot of us. I’ll see you tonight.”
Grace frowned. She almost felt that he was taking her to task in some strange way. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He stepped aside. “Who knows, we might find it’s not as bad as we think.”
“Or worse,” Grace grumbled softly as she left for her class.
Caleb shook his dark head as the door swung shut. “Why me?”
Why not you?
Caleb’s mouth twitched. He could practically hear his mother’s voice as clearly as if she were standing there with him. Growing up with his sisters in Dallas he’d asked that question a hundred, a thousand times when he didn’t want to do some chore around the house or one he thought Heather and Cynthia, his older and younger sisters, should do. He couldn’t recall a time when complaining had helped. Now they were both married and living in Dallas with families of their own.
When they’d all been together last month for his mother’s birthday, his family had wanted to know when he was finally going to marry and have a family. He had given them his usual answer: he was in no hurry. He figured when God wanted him to get married, He’d send the perfect woman to Caleb. Until then, Caleb would continue making a name for himself in the music industry.
Going over to the baby grand in the corner, he began to play “How Great Thou Art,” a song that had always soothed and helped him to take himself out of the equation and let God lead him in the direction He wanted Caleb to go. Caleb’s mouth twitched again. God had surprised him when He sent him to Summerset. Other jobs kept falling through or just didn’t seem right. But from the time he’d dropped over the hill in his vintage Corvette and seen Summerset in a little valley, he’d felt this was where God had been leading him…for the time being.
He’d tried to fight it, of course. He was a city boy, born and bred in Dallas where there was always something happening. In Summerset, the biggest industry outside ranching and farming was the tire factory. But God had never promised following Him would be easy.
Yet, Caleb felt that there was something else God wanted him to do here. Caleb just hadn’t figured out what it was yet. He had thought it was helping to bring young people to the Lord through his music ministry, just as Frank Hemphill, the youth pastor at his church, had helped him. And although there was a definite increase in attendance on the two Sundays a month Revelation performed at chapel services, he still felt that he was missing something right before his eyes.
Shrugging, Caleb continued to play. He’d learned through the years that God had His own time schedule. In the meantime, Caleb would use the newest opportunity to tell of God’s unconditional love and redemption through music.
Done right, and Caleb didn’t intend otherwise, the gospel musical would mark another milestone in his career that would lead him to his next position. He enjoyed teaching and the students at Summerset, but he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t stay. He would continue to work with young people and help as Pastor Hemphill had helped him, but Caleb had always felt that his destiny was in a larger venue where he could reach the masses and where the sidewalks didn’t roll up at ten.
He’d lost count of the times he’d been busy with his music or preparing lessons and let time slip away and hadn’t been able to find anyplace open late to eat. He would sure be happy when he returned to a city with all-night restaurants and more than one movie theater.
Until then, he’d do the work the Lord had set before him. He was going to put on a gospel musical that would bring people to their feet in praise…with or without Grace’s help.
Chapter Two
Grace saw Pastor French’s older model truck and Alton’s car parked in front of Peaceful Rest Church the moment she turned the corner off Collins onto North Fourth Street. She smiled in anticipation of the meeting. She’d called them the second she’d gotten out of class and told them that it was extremely important they meet as soon as possible. Luckily Alton owned his own business in town, House of Music, and was able to leave a sales clerk in charge and meet with them. In consideration of Pastor French’s job as a supervisor at the bottling plant, she’d set the meeting up at five-thirty.
Pulling up into the gravel parking lot of the seventy-year-old church, Grace cut the motor and got out. Her six-year-old Taurus looked rather dowdy next to Alton’s new silver luxury car, but as she’d told her older brother, Reginald, when he suggested she get a sportier one, she preferred dependability to flash. He, of all people, had understood her reasoning.
Grace closed the car door and stared at the white, steepled wooden church that she had attended since she was in the ninth grade. She could greet every one of the four-hundred-plus members by their first name. She belonged.
Instead of going up the seven steep steps leading into the main sanctuary, she followed the curved brick walkway around the side of the single-story structure to the pastor’s study and knocked. The door opened almost immediately. Alton Stone, the choir pianist-organist, smiled down at her.
“Hi, Grace. What’s so important we have to meet now? What’s the big news you have to tell us?”
Warm laughter sounded from behind him. “Let her get in first, Alton.”
Smiling, she entered the small study that held a desk, a small love seat, and two straight chairs. Pastor French, tall and imposing despite his sixty-three years, stuck his callused hand out in greeting, a warm smile on his dark face. “Hello, Grace. How are your parents?”
“Fine, thank you, Pastor, and Mrs. French?”
He chuckled. “Probably as anxious as Alton here to find out why you had us meet. She’s holding supper.”
“So don’t keep us waiting. Talk,” Alton said, his eyes sparkling in a light-brown face sprinkled with freckles over his nose.
“Summerset city council has asked that our gospel choir under my direction and Revelation directed by Dr. Caleb Jackson at the junior college put on a gospel concert jointly to celebrate the city’s Annual Harvest Celebration.”
Alton’s dark eyes widened. Grace waited for him to object to the arrangement. With them on her side, she’d have a greater chance of getting Caleb to reconsider.
“This is wonderful!”
“What?” Grace said, unable to believe the grin on his face.
“Caleb Jackson is quickly gaining a reputation in gospel music. Benton University hasn’t placed in competition since he left to come here. At the
Gospel Music Association last year, I heard his name over and over as someone to watch,” Alton said, as happy as a schoolboy with an extended recess. “I can’t wait to work with him.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “His contemporary gospel pop is nothing like the traditional music our choir sings.”
Alton, always the peacemaker, tried to reassure her. “It won’t hurt the choir to get some oomph in their songs.”
Grace felt a twinge of hurt. “You haven’t been pleased with the way I’ve conducted the choir?”
Surprise widened Alton’s dark eyes. “How could you think that? Under your leadership for the past four years, Peaceful Rest has won top honors at the choir competition for two years running. When we win this year, we’ll tie the record.” His grin broadened. “Caleb wasn’t the only one whose name was mentioned at the GMA.”
Grace’s pleasure was tempered by Alton’s mention of Caleb’s name again. “Then we don’t need Caleb with all that hip-hop music he’s bound to want to perform,” she said with a brisk nod of her head. “Together we should be able to convince him to let us lead the musical.”
“Whoa.” Alton held up both hands. “Caleb is no slouch in the music department. He led Revelation to statewide honors his first year here. The first in Summerset’s thirty-five year history. The man knows his music.”
The town’s newspaper had run a full-page spread. They’d even had a parade. “But it’s not our music.”
“Now, Grace,” Pastor French spoke for the first time since her announcement. “Just because it’s different from what we’re used to and enjoy doesn’t mean it’s not pleasing to God. Our church has an older membership who like the more traditional form of praising the Lord, but I’ve been concerned lately that the attendance of the teenagers and young adults has dropped off. The right music might bring them back.”
“The pastor is right,” Alton said. “A lot of churches are leaning toward praise worship with a lot more body movement and beats in the music in an attempt to bring younger people to the services.”
“In my opinion, it’s gone too far,” Grace said tightly. “I won’t let Caleb turn this into something that is more fitting for a nightclub than a worship service.”
“Has he indicated that’s what he plans?” Pastor French asked, twin furrows across his dark brow.
She faltered. “We haven’t discussed the music yet, but in the assembly at the opening of school Revelation performed and everyone in the auditorium was on their feet as if it were a rap concert.”
“But were they reacting to the beat or to the stirring of their hearts?” Pastor French asked.
Grace didn’t know the answer and barely kept from squirming under Pastor French’s intense regard. “I’m not sure,” she finally conceded.
Pastor French rested his hand on her shoulder. “I can tell you have some reservations about working with Caleb, but I think you should look at it as an opportunity.”
She frowned. “Opportunity?”
“To learn from him and let him learn from you,” he explained.
“Maybe he could give us some hints on how to bring in more young people,” Alton said. “Nothing we’ve tried has worked.”
Grace tried to hide the hurt she felt. The night of board games she’d suggested had been the most poorly attended of all the activities the church held. And now the two people she expected would be on her side weren’t. “He’s coming tomorrow night for us to tell the choir. Perhaps you can ask him yourself.”
Alton frowned at her.
“Grace,” Pastor French said, obviously concerned and noting her displeasure. “We’re not belittling your contribution to the church.” He glanced at the two trophies on his desk. “You’ve brought distinction and honor to Peaceful Rest. The gospel choir had a handful of members before you took over. Now it’s thirty-two people strong and more would join if we could afford to buy the robes. No one could take your place.”
“You should know that,” Alton added.
She felt ashamed. “I didn’t do it for glory.”
“We know that, but you’re human and, like the rest of us, you like to know you’re appreciated,” Pastor French told her kindly. “I’ve been married too long and preached even longer not to have learned that lesson.”
Grace accepted the gracious out he had given her. Whatever happened, she never wanted to jeopardize the love and respect she had worked so hard to earn with these two men. She’d just have to circumvent Caleb another way. “Thanks for meeting with me.”
“Thank you for once again bringing honor and recognition to God’s house and providing an opportunity to speak of God’s love.” Pastor French told her.
She turned to Alton. “Thank you, too. Sorry if I got a bit testy.”
“That’s mild compared to Nina,” he said with a shake of his dark head.
Grace smiled. Nina Warner, Grace’s friend and a solo soprano in the choir, had been going steady with Alton for the past five years. Nina was trying to get Alton to the altar, but he was being stubborn. “She’s blessed to have a dependable, stable man like you.”
“That’s what I tell her,” he said with a shy smile.
They all laughed.
During the six-minute drive to her house, Grace’s mind was busy trying to think of a way to get out of working with Caleb. However, seeing the dark-blue truck in front of her house pushed thoughts of Caleb from her mind. Unconsciously her hands tightened on the steering wheel even as her foot lifted off the gas pedal. This was a surprise. Her father was always gone when she came home in the evening. She preferred it that way.
Just then a car turned onto her street from the opposite end and parked behind the truck. Relief swept through her. The door on the driver’s side opened and her mother emerged. The gentle evening breeze whipped her floral cotton sundress around her. She was still shapely and pretty at fifty-nine years of age. Opening the back door, she lifted out a stockpot.
Around the small frame house came a tall, well-built man in jeans and a sweat-dampened chambray shirt. His walk was self-assured, his posture erect. He quickly crossed the tiny patch of grass Grace called her yard and went to take the pot from her mother.
Seeing no way out of doing so, Grace pulled up in the driveway and got out, dragging her briefcase and purse with her. “Hi, Mama. Daddy. I didn’t expect you.”
Her father looked at her a long time as if trying to figure out if there was any hidden meaning behind her statement. “Hello, Grace. I wanted to finish the floors before I left today.”
She nodded, her hands clamped around the briefcase. Sweat trickled down her back.
“You two are certainly turning this house into a showcase,” her mother said into the heavy silence. “I can’t wait to see those floors.”
“Grace has good ideas and instincts,” her father said. “I’m just the muscle.”
Her mother waved his words aside. “Nonsense. It’s your skill that transforms her ideas into something tangible. Isn’t that right, Grace?”
“Yes,” Grace felt obliged to say, and thought again that she should have never agreed to let her father do the remodeling in her house. But it had been important to her mother, and somehow Grace hadn’t been able to turn her back on the man who had turned his back on her for so many years.
“Grace, get the door.” Once again her mother started the conversation. “Oscar, you bring those chicken and dumplings inside. Grace, I made enough for you to have some for two days.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grace went up the short walk and single step and opened the door. Leaded glass sparkled in the top panel. The polished sheen of hardwood floor stretched from the living room to the kitchen-dining area beyond. Four days ago it had been gold shag carpeting.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured and just the way she had envisioned. She turned to her father as he and her mother came in behind her. “You even put the furniture back in place.”
“I know how much you like things in order,” he told her. “I st
ill need to put the molding around the baseboards, but I figured I could do that later this week. I wanted to get this finished.”
She glanced back at the new floor, then to him. No one had to tell her he had worked like crazy to get this done. This morning, as he had for the past month while working on her house, he’d been waiting in his truck when she came outside at seven-thirty. He was trying so hard to please her; she just wished he had been as concerned with pleasing her when she was growing up.
“I appreciate what you’ve done. It’s lovely,” she said finally.
He nodded. “I’ll put this down and finish cleaning up the backyard. I plan to start on that deck you wanted next.”
She noticed as he passed that he looked tired. She recalled the man who always wore a smile and who liked to tease, but these days the easy smile and glib words were gone…at least with her. It was as uncomfortable for him to be around her as it was for her to be around him.
Once she had loved him more than anyone, but that was before he’d decided what he wanted far outweighed his responsibilities as a husband and father. She’d grown up not being able to depend on him to be there for her. Broken promises littered her childhood. Now, he was ready to settle down and be a father and husband, but it was too late as far as she was concerned. As painful as it was to admit, she couldn’t put her faith or trust in him.
Both of them would probably have stopped subjecting themselves to this awkwardness if not for her mother, a tender-hearted woman who loved them both and whom they loved.
“Daddy, did you eat lunch?” she asked as he started to open the glass door to the music room.
Surprise widened his eyes as he glanced back over his shoulder. “I don’t like stopping.”
“I’ve been living here for two years and saving to have the repairs done. They can wait a little longer.” Her mother’s life had been disrupted enough. Placing her things on the kitchen island, Grace went to the oak cabinet. “I’ll fix you a plate while Mama and I look at the floor and I can show her the plans for my office.”
How Sweet the Sound Page 10
