by Nancy Mehl
When I woke up, the room was dark except for a nightlight plugged into the wall by the bed. Although it was hard to see, I leaned over to check the clock on the nightstand. It was only nine o’clock at night. Even so, Esther would be in bed by now. I needed to go to the bathroom, and I was hungry, but there wasn’t anyone here to help me. I’d have to take care of myself—as usual. I sat up in bed and swung my legs over the side.
“You’re awake.”
The voice from the darkness made me cry out. I looked over toward the fainting couch and saw Jonathon sitting there.
“You scared me to death.” I gasped for breath.
“Sorry.” He stood up and walked toward me. “I felt someone should be with you. Make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Except for the mild heart attack you just gave me. I thought someone was after me again.” Although I tried to calm myself down, my voice trembled.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“What I need to do is go to the bathroom and get something to eat.”
“How does your head feel?”
I hadn’t even thought about it. “It’s better,” I said with relief. I reached up and touched the spot where I’d been hit. It was still tender, but the swelling had gone down quite a bit. “Seems the patient will live. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Jonathon said sharply. “Go to the bathroom. I’ll wait here.”
He came over and pushed the stool next to the bed. I put my feet on it and started to step down, but I suddenly lost my balance. Before I fell, Jonathon reached out and caught me, wrapping his arms around me. Surprised, I looked up into his face. I saw something in his eyes that made my breath quicken, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. Chalk it up to my imagination. I planted my feet firmly on the floor, and he let me go.
“Sorry . . . I . . .” My mind was blank, and I fled the room. When I reached the bathroom, I closed the door and leaned against it. I could still feel his arms around me. It was something I’d dreamed of for so long. An old, familiar ache sprang to life inside, but I pushed it away.
“Stop it, you idiot,” I scolded myself softly. “You’re not going to make a fool of yourself again. Not ever again.”
Before I went back to the bedroom, I checked my image in the mirror. There were dark circles under my eyes, and my hair looked awful. Thankfully, I’d left my makeup bag in the bathroom, so I took a few minutes to brush my hair and fix my face. When I was done, I looked more like myself, not the scared and confused kid Jonathon had known in Kingdom.
I tried to focus on my investigation. Would I have to leave town? My only chance was to convince Jonathon to let me finish my business in Sanctuary. Although I’d lost my notes, I had the names of most of the men who were most likely to be Chase on my laptop and stashed under my mattress. I wanted to make one more trip to the church to go through the last book. I needed to see if there were any more single men who’d left town. Then my list would be complete. It was clear someone didn’t want me here. First the note and now the attack in the basement. But did it have anything to do with Terrance Chase? I still wasn’t sure.
I took several deep breaths, trying to control my shattered nerves. I attempted to whisper my affirmations, but once again, they seemed powerless. In fact, I felt as if they mocked me. “It’s in your head, dummy,” I said to myself. “You’re intimidated by this town, and it’s going to stop. Right now.”
I gathered my determination and willpower and headed back to my room. I had to keep reminding myself that I was no longer Sophie Wittenbauer, pathetic and uneducated. I was Sophie Bauer, a writer for the St. Louis Times. I was here on a story, and that story came first. Any other feelings or concerns needed to be imprisoned in the dark place where I kept the rest of my emotions. I had a job to do, and I intended to do it.
When I reached my room, Jonathon was sitting in an overstuffed chair near the bed. “Do you want to go downstairs to eat, or would you like me to bring you something up here?”
“I can make myself something,” I said hurriedly. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, but I’m still going to hang around until I’m certain you’re really okay.”
I shrugged. “Help yourself. Does Esther know you’re here?”
“I told her you needed someone to watch you. Someone who could stay awake. She wanted to do it but was afraid she’d fall asleep.”
“Well, Zac is next door, you know. He could have checked on me.”
“I convinced her you’d be more comfortable with someone you knew.”
“You—you didn’t tell her . . .”
“No. I didn’t tell her about Kingdom. Just that I knew you and that I was at the church when you were . . . injured.”
“Okay. Good.” I was relieved. Sharing what had happened in Kingdom wasn’t something I planned to do. Ever. Of course, now that Jonathon knew who I was, every time I looked at him, I was faced with the shame of my past.
I wanted to change my clothes, but I’d just be going back to bed, so I left my sweatpants and sweatshirt on. I pulled off my socks, found my flip-flops, and slid those on.
Jonathon was silent as he followed me downstairs to the kitchen. As I fumbled around in the refrigerator, he sat down at the kitchen table and watched me. His presence made me nervous, but I tried to ignore him. I found some chicken salad, so I made a sandwich. Then I sliced some strawberries and poured a glass of tea.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Esther made me dinner while you were sleeping.”
“Then you talked? About me?”
“Yes.”
I put my food and tea on the table and sat down next to him. “May I ask what you said about me?”
“Just that I knew you a long time ago. That you and I are from the same town. And that I never thought I’d see you again.”
I took a bite of chicken salad, chewed, and swallowed it. “You mean you hoped you’d never see me again.”
“No. To be honest, I’ve thought about you a lot since you left Kingdom. Prayed for you many times. A lot of people in Kingdom prayed for you, Sophie.”
“I find that hard to believe. I’m sure they were thrilled to see me go.”
“You need to give them more credit than that. People cared about you.”
I drank some tea. For some reason, my mouth was horribly dry and the tea was incredibly soothing. Probably the pills. “And what did you pray?”
Jonathon sighed. “I prayed that you would find your way. And that you would discover the path God has for you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I found my path, but God had nothing to do with it.”
To my surprise, he smiled. “So you think coming to Sanctuary and finding me was just . . . dumb luck?”
“I’m not feeling very lucky right now.”
“What do you mean?”
I took another bite of my sandwich and stared at him while I chewed. “Let’s see,” I said after I swallowed. “I came here on a pretext to find an infamous thief and murderer. My cover story has been blown, I’ve been threatened, hit on the head, and I ran into you. I don’t think you can call any of that lucky, do you?”
“Maybe not. It’s almost like it was . . . planned.”
I grunted. “Please don’t tell me you’ve bought into Esther’s belief that I’m here for a reason, and before I leave, I’ll understand it all.”
“Maybe.”
“Then you’re as delusional as she is.”
“Sophie, your parents were . . . well, awful. Selfish, cruel, terrible people. As examples of God, they failed miserably. But you shouldn’t judge God by them. It’s something a lot of people do, but people aren’t perfect. Even when they call themselves Christians. They still have free will and can choose wrong things.”
His words made my blood boil. “I’m not judging God by them. I’m judging God by God. I prayed and prayed for help. All I got back was silence. Explain that to me.”
H
e hesitated a moment before responding. “That’s not an easy question to answer. I’ve been asked it before. All I can tell you is that parents have authority over their children. Because of that, they have the ability to mistreat them. But that certainly isn’t God’s will. You keep saying God didn’t help you, but you were never alone. A lot of people watched over you. I was one of them. And when you were ready to leave town, Lizzie Housler gave you money so you could get away.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Why don’t you judge God by those people?” he asked gently. “Instead of by the parents who failed you?”
“God says He’s our father,” I spat out, unable to control my anger. “The only father I’ve ever known abused me.” I pointed my finger at him. “In ways you don’t know anything about. No one does.”
His eyes widened, and I was shocked to see them turn shiny with tears. “Sophie, you don’t mean . . .”
“Yes, I do mean. So parents have authority over their children, huh? Do they have the authority to do . . . that?”
Jonathon got up from his chair and walked to the window. He didn’t say anything for a while. I assumed he was so disgusted with me now, he’d just leave. It was the reaction I expected—and the reason I’d never told anyone what my father was doing.
Finally, he turned around, and his eyes met mine. The expression on his face made my heart beat faster. “If I’d known, I would have been tempted to kill him.”
My mouth dropped open. “I—I don’t understand.”
He came back over and sat down, a terrible look on his face. “I may be a pastor, Sophie, but I’m still a man. I would have done something. I would have stopped him somehow.” He shook his head. “Did your mother know?”
I wiped away a tear that dripped down one of my cheeks. “I honestly don’t know. She didn’t act like she did, but sometimes I felt she suspected something wasn’t right.”
Without thinking, I reached out and touched his hand. “You wouldn’t have killed him, Jonathon. You’re a good man.”
He sighed. “I probably wouldn’t have killed him, but it would have crossed my mind. I’m human, Sophie. That means I’m not perfect.” He cocked his head to the side. “Is that what you think? That Christians have to be perfect?”
I withdrew my hand and picked up my sandwich. “Isn’t that what the church teaches? That you’re supposed to be like Christ? I could never do that. Never come close to that.”
“No church should make you feel you have the ability to be righteous by yourself. Our righteousness comes from Jesus. He gives it to us when we become His. You don’t have to try to be perfect. When God sees you, He sees Jesus. You’re already perfect in His eyes.”
His words were like arrows piercing my heart. “That’s ridiculous. So I can act any way I want to, and God will accept me? No matter what awful things I do?”
“No. You’re putting the cart before the horse, Sophie. Allowing God in your life means He comes in and changes you—if you let Him. Too many people are trying to be good. But we can’t do that without Him.” Jonathon crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “The Bible tells us that it’s the goodness of God that leads to repentance. If you’d had a good father—a loving father—you’d want to please him. Be like him because he loves you and you love him. That’s what love is. But your father didn’t love you. He hurt you, so you rebelled. Unfortunately, now you’re angry at the Father who wants to give you the love you’ve missed. That’s a terrible mistake.”
I sighed. “Look, I know you’re trying to help, but I’m just not interested. I like the life I have now. I’ve worked hard, and I know what I want. This church and God thing? It’s just not for me. Being around judgmental people who always know what I should and shouldn’t be doing? Never again. I’ll figure things out on my own. I’m the only one who truly has my best interests at heart.”
I knew Jonathon believed what he said, but I didn’t. And I never would. I’d spent my life being judged by church people, and I’d come up wanting. I was done with that. I expected him to get angry about what I’d said, but he just smiled.
“Let’s get back to the reason you’re here,” he said. “You explained some of it earlier, but I have a few questions.”
I picked up my plate and carried it to the sink, where I rinsed it off and set it on the counter. “I’m still tired, Jonathon. Can we talk about it tomorrow?”
“Sure. It’s just . . . I’ll need more information . . . if I’m going to help you.”
I turned around to gape at him, but I moved too quickly. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I grasped the countertop, trying to steady myself.
Jonathon jumped to his feet and took my arm, helping me back to my chair. “Are you all right?”
“I’m . . . fine. Those pills. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken two.” I waited until he sat down. “I don’t understand. Did you say you’re going to . . . help me?”
“I’m as surprised as you are. But yes, I’m going to help you. Finding an evil man and bringing him to justice is . . . praiseworthy.” He pointed at me. “But no more lies, Sophie. I mean it. Not one. If you lie to me, I’m done.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s get you to bed. I’m going to ask Zac to keep an eye on you the rest of the night. When you get up, if you feel the least bit dizzy, you call him for help getting downstairs.” He picked up a slip of paper. “Here’s his cell phone number. I’ll stop by his room on the way out and let him know. In the morning, I’ve got to help prepare for the church supper. But let’s talk after that. Say around two? I’ll have some time before I have to get back to the church. You bring me up to date on everything you’ve found. And tell me what you need to know. I’m not a longtime Sanctuary resident, but I’m acquainted with people who are. Together, we might be able to figure out if this Chase guy is really here. Why don’t you meet me at The Oil Lamp? If you feel up to it.”
“I don’t know what to say. Th-thank you.”
“You get some rest.” He stood up and offered me his arm. I took it, and together we made our way up the stairs. After he deposited me in my room, I heard him walk down the hall and knock on Zac’s door. Although I couldn’t make out the words, I could hear them talking.
I climbed back into bed and lay there for a long while, trying to make sense out of the strange turn my life had taken. But try as I might, I couldn’t figure it out.
Chapter
Fourteen
I woke up the next morning feeling pretty good, but I’d been plagued all night by strange dreams. I was lost inside a big house. Every time I thought I’d found a way out, the doors disappeared. Sometimes the house changed, as well. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t find a way of escape. When I opened my eyes, my first impulse was to seek safety. But then I remembered where I was—and what had happened the night before. Jonathon knew who I really was, and instead of telling me to leave town, he’d decided to help me look for Terrance Chase. It was still almost impossible for me to believe.
After lying in bed for a few minutes, I decided to get up and take a shower. I gathered my clothes together and headed to the bathroom. After my shower, I felt much more human. The pain pills had really knocked me for a loop. They were probably the source of my weird dreams.
After brushing my teeth, putting on makeup, and fixing my hair, I went back to my room. In the hallway, I heard voices coming from downstairs. Zac and Esther. I wondered if she’d told Zac why I was really here. I hoped not. I’d wanted to keep my reasons for being in Sanctuary to myself, but now two people knew my secret. That was two too many. Besides, Zac worked for a television station. I couldn’t allow him to scoop me.
I was getting ready to go downstairs when my phone rang. Donnie’s number. Make that three people who knew the truth. Before long, I might as well take out an ad in the local newspaper and make sure everyone was up to date on my reason for being in Sanctuary.
Ignoring the call for the time being, I quickly straightened my room then went downstairs. I found Zac and Esthe
r in the kitchen, sitting at the table.
“There you are,” Esther said when I came into the room. “Zac was getting ready to check on you.”
I smiled at her. “I’m feeling much better.”
“Good,” she said, returning my smile. “You sit down. I’ll get you some coffee and something to eat.”
“Thanks, Esther, but I’m not hungry. I came down here last night and made a sandwich. Just some coffee, please. That’s all I really need.” I craved a kick of caffeine to push away the final cobwebs from the day before.
“Of course,” she said. “Have a seat, and I will pour you a cup.”
Zac pulled out a chair for me. “Glad you’re feeling better.”
“Thank you.” I sat down and waited while Esther got a jadeite mug from the cupboard and filled it with her delicious coffee. When she put it in front of me, I picked it up and took a sip. A sigh of satisfaction slipped out.
Zac laughed. “Esther’s coffee will cure anything. I thought the only coffee in the world was from Starbucks. Until I tasted this.”
I grinned. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“I buy coffee almost every morning when I’m working,” he said. “It gets my day going in the right direction. Don’t know how I’d get by without it.”
Seemed we had something in common. “So do you enjoy working at a television station?”
“I love it. Every day is different. They’re letting me work with the reporters now. Besides taking pictures and video, I get to do some research.”
“Sounds great.”
“Esther tells me you’re an accountant?”
Obviously, Esther had kept my secret. I breathed an inward sigh of relief. “Yes. I’m afraid it’s not as exciting as your job. But I enjoy dealing with numbers, and I like the people I work with.”
Zac took a sip of his coffee as he looked me over. “You don’t seem like someone who would be an accountant.”
What in the world did people see that I couldn’t? “You’re not the first person to say that. I’m not sure what an accountant looks like.”
