by Nancy Mehl
Lizzie reached for my hand. “Oh, Hope. I’m so glad to hear that. I hope you’ll stick to it.”
I smiled and patted her hand with my other one. “This is one decision I won’t change. I’m determined to wait on God.”
“I can always count on you to do the right thing. You’re so—” She suddenly stopped and sniffed at the air. “Do you smell something?”
I nodded. “Could you have left the stove on? It smells like something’s burning.”
“I was just in there. I think I would have noticed, but I’ll look again.” She jumped up and hurried into the kitchen while I waited. The strong aroma of smoke continued to get worse. A few seconds later, Lizzie came out of the kitchen, a puzzled look on her face. “The stove’s turned off, and I checked everything else.” Suddenly her eyes got wide. “Charity! I’ll be right back.” She rushed up the stairs. I got up and ran after her. When I reached the landing, the smell was stronger. Lizzie came into the living room from Charity’s room. “Nothing’s burning up here. What in the world . . . ?”
At that moment, I caught a glimpse of something out of the living room window that made my blood run cold. I rushed over to get a better look. Flames were coming from a building down the street. I turned to look at Lizzie with horror.
“It’s the church! Oh, Lizzie! The church is on fire!”
CHAPTER / 16
Lizzie and I ran down the stairs as fast as we could. For the first time I realized Beau hadn’t followed me. The reason was obvious when we got to the dining room. He was sitting next to the front door, not fooled by the source of the smoke.
“I’ve got to call the fire department in Washington,” Lizzie said as she raced toward the kitchen. I stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do. A minute or two later, she came out. “They’re on their way. I just hope they get here in time.” She went to the door and grabbed the knob, but I pushed her arm away.
“Wait a minute! What if the man in the truck started the fire as a way to get us to come out? We can’t take the chance of walking right into a trap.”
“Oh, Hope. Why would he go to all that trouble? He could break in here and shoot us if he wanted to. We can’t just let the church burn down. Besides, what if someone’s inside?”
Although I doubted seriously that anyone was there at this time of night, it was true that sometimes Pastor Mendenhall worked late in the church office.
“I don’t know.” I said. “What if . . .”
Lizzie whirled around and jogged across the room, leaving me standing there as Beau whined softly. She grabbed the rifle and stomped back to the door. “I’m going. You stay here and keep an eye on Charity. No sense in both of us being in danger.”
I shook my head. “No way. If you go, I’m going too. Lock the door behind us. I’ll come back after we find out what’s going on to check on Charity. Besides, you told me she’s a sound sleeper. She probably won’t wake up.”
Lizzie flung the door open. “Suit yourself, but stay behind me.” She turned and looked at me intently, her expression resolute. “If that guy’s out here, and if he tries anything, I will defend us, Hope. No question about it.”
I didn’t say anything, just nodded, but my mind was seized with trepidation. What were we getting ourselves into?
We both walked out onto the street and looked around. No red truck. After locking the door to the restaurant, Lizzie took off toward the church, and I followed her. Even though it was still raining, it didn’t seem to have any effect on the fire. Flames licked the sky as if there were no moisture in the air at all. Lizzie held her rifle in front of her, keeping an eye on our surroundings. I was worried about the man in the red truck too, but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from our church burning down in front of our eyes.
“What can we do?” I yelled at Lizzie.
“I don’t know. There’s a water pump behind the building, but it wouldn’t help. I’m still worried that someone might be in there.”
“We can’t go inside, Lizzie. It’s too dangerous.”
“Has anyone called the fire department?” Jonathon ran up next to us. I was surprised to see him in town.
“Yes, they’re on their way,” Lizzie said.
We turned as we heard hoofbeats behind us. A horse was galloping up the street, pulling a buggy behind it. The buggy rocked back and forth as the driver urged the horse on. When the buggy got closer, I could see it was Bethany Mendenhall, her expression one of sheer terror.
Jonathon grabbed the horse’s bridle when the buggy reached us. “Where’s Daniel?” he yelled.
“He’s working late. He’s in the church!” Bethany jumped out of the buggy and started to sprint toward the burning structure.
I ran after her, grabbed her around the waist, and held her tight. She began to fight me, and I wasn’t sure how long I could hang on. “You can’t go in there,” I screamed. “It’s too dangerous.”
“He’s not supposed to be here,” Jonathon said. He looked at us wild-eyed. “Hold her!” He grabbed a blanket from inside the buggy and hurried around to the back of the church. It only took a minute for me to realize what he was planning. He put the blanket under the water pump and soaked it. Then he put it over his head and ran as fast as he could toward the building’s front entrance.
Lizzie had come over to help me with Bethany, but the pastor’s wife had gone limp and wasn’t fighting anymore. “Don’t let her go!” I instructed Lizzie. Calling Jonathon’s name, I started to go after him, but something sent me stumbling to the ground. Beau stood in front of me, blocking my way. I was starting to get up to my feet when someone grabbed me from behind.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I looked up into Ebbie Miller’s face, and my emotions overcame me. I broke out in tears. “Jonathon’s in there,” I sobbed. “He went after Pastor Mendenhall.”
A voice shouted from behind us. “Pastor Mendenhall’s inside?”
Holding on to Ebbie, I pulled myself up. Noah stood next to Ebbie while several other men came running across the church lawn.
“He . . . he said he was working late,” Bethany cried. “Then I saw a strange glow in the sky, so I rode down here as fast as I could. I just knew something was wrong.”
“All of you stay here,” Noah ordered. He and Ebbie took off toward the church even though flames shot out of the windows around the huge double front doors.
“No!” I screamed. “Please don’t go in there!”
Before Lizzie, Bethany, or I could say anything else, a figure exited the front doors, holding something in his arms. The edges of the blanket covering Jonathon were smoking. Ebbie pulled it off him, tossed it to the ground, and stomped on it to put it out. Jonathon lowered Pastor Mendenhall’s limp body onto the grass.
Bethany shrieked and ran toward him. Ebbie and Noah dropped to their knees, checking to see if he was alive. Ebbie put his head on Daniel’s chest for a moment. Then he started to compress the pastor’s body. After several compressions, he placed his mouth over Daniel’s and began breathing into him. Lizzie and I held hands and prayed while Bethany cried loudly, calling her husband’s name.
From the street, trucks, cars, and buggies began to pull in, people streaming toward the burning building. Then the sound of sirens broke through the hum of voices and the whinnying of horses. A large fire truck drove right onto the grassy area near the church. The firemen jumped out and started grabbing hoses. Since Kingdom had no hydrants, they’d brought a tanker truck that carried its own water. As the firemen began to pump water out and direct it toward the blazing structure, I realized it wouldn’t be enough. Our church was lost. Suddenly, the light rain turned heavy, as if trying to aid in putting out the fire.
I hurried over toward the spot where Pastor Mendenhall still lay on the ground and was thrilled to see Ebbie helping him sit up. Jonathon stood a few feet away, coughing. I went over to check on him.
“Are you all right?” I couldn’t tell if the moisture on my face came from my tears or fr
om the rain, but I didn’t care.
He nodded, still coughing, unable to speak.
“Stay here,” I told him. “I’m going to get you some water.” It seemed like a strange thing to say since we were being drenched with rain, but Jonathon needed a drink to calm his throat. I ran down the street as fast as I could until I reached the restaurant. When I unlocked the door, I found Charity standing in the dining room, her dark eyes wide with fear.
“I heard a loud noise,” she said when I came in, “and Mama is gone.”
I quickly explained that the church had caught fire, but the firemen were putting it out. She followed me as I went to the kitchen, searching for something to carry water in. Lizzie had a big stack of pitchers sitting next to the dishwasher. I grabbed one and filled it quickly from the sink.
“You stay here, Charity,” I said. “Your mother is fine. I’ll tell her to come back and check on you.”
“I don’t want to be here by myself. I want my mama.”
I hesitated a moment, not sure what to do. “Okay,” I said finally, “but you’ve got to stay right next to me. Will you do that?”
She nodded slowly, looking scared. I held the pitcher of water in one hand and took Charity’s small hand in the other. “Everything will be okay,” I said gently. “Your daddy’s there too.”
A look of relief crossed her face, and I smiled at her. Although she didn’t actually smile, at least some of her fear seemed to dissolve.
I led her to the front door, put the water pitcher down, and opened the door, almost running smack into Lizzie.
“Charity!” she cried. “I was just coming to check on you.”
“The sirens woke her up,” I said, reaching down to pick up the pitcher. “I need to get this to Jonathon. Do you mind if I go?”
“Of course not. Thanks for taking care of her.”
I nodded and flew out the door, down the steps, and headed toward the church, trying not to spill all the water before I got back to Jonathon. As I neared the church grounds, I saw someone standing behind a tree, watching the fire. For a brief moment, I thought it looked like Sophie, but as I got closer, whoever it was ran off. Strange, but I quickly forgot about it. I was focused on Jonathon. I found him sitting on the grass by the fire truck, an oxygen mask on his face. He pulled it off when he saw me.
“I . . . I . . .” Another bout of coughing hit him.
“Here, drink this,” I said.
He laughed when he saw the large pitcher of water but reached for it and downed almost the entire amount in just a few seconds. “Thank you,” he croaked. “I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.”
“He breathed in a lot of smoke,” said a fireman who was standing nearby. “His voice will be raspy for a while, and he’ll cough for the next few days.” The man smiled at my worried expression. “He’ll be okay, ma’am. I don’t think there’s any permanent damage.” He looked down at Jonathon. “You’re a real hero, you know. You saved that man’s life.” Another fireman called his name, and the man walked away.
“He’s right,” I said. “You are a hero.”
Jonathon shook his head. “Anyone would have done the same thing. You know that.”
“Doesn’t matter,” someone said from behind me, making me jump. “You did a brave thing.” Ebbie stuck his hand out to Jonathon. “You’re a decent man, Jonathon. I’m sorry we’ve been at odds.”
Jonathon struggled to his feet and pulled Ebbie to him. “And I’m sorry if I did anything to hurt you. You’re my brother, and I love you.”
Ebbie patted Jonathon’s back. “I love you too.” He let Jonathon go and took a few steps back. “I want you to know that I won’t stand in your way. You and Hope, I mean. You both have my blessing.” I saw the glint of tears in his eyes, and an indescribable ache rose from somewhere inside me. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just stared at him.
“Thanks, Ebbie. That means a great deal to me. To us.” Jonathon reached for me, putting his arm around my shoulders. Ebbie’s eyes bored into mine, and then without another word, he turned and walked away.
Jonathon squeezed me tightly before letting me go. He began to cough again. “I’m so relieved,” he said hoarsely. “I . . .”
I reached up and put my fingers on his lips. “Don’t try to talk. You need to rest your voice. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? We’ll talk more when you feel better.”
He tried to say something else but was stopped by another bout of coughing. Noah came up next to him
“I’m going to drive you home,” he said to Jonathon. “You can get your truck tomorrow. Right now you need to rest.”
Jonathon nodded at him, not daring to try to speak again. Before he had a chance to get away, Bethany Mendenhall came rushing up to him, wrapping her arms around him. Something a pastor’s wife wouldn’t normally do.
“Thank you, Jonathon. There aren’t words to thank you enough. You saved my husband’s life. I will always treasure your bravery.”
Jonathon nodded again, his face red, but I couldn’t tell if he was flushed because of embarrassment, or coughing, or if he’d been slightly scorched from the heat of the fire. After Bethany left, Noah grabbed his arm and led him off toward his truck.
I scanned the area, looking for Ebbie. He was standing several yards away, leaning against a tree, watching the fire. I wondered who had really saved our pastor’s life. Jonathon, who’d brought him out of the inferno, or Ebbie, who’d helped him to breathe again. Jonathon was receiving all the attention while Ebbie had quietly stepped aside.
I turned this over in my mind while I watched the fire department put out the last of the fire, the rain continuing to pour down. Our big beautiful church was a charred shell. And for some reason, I felt the same way inside.
CHAPTER / 17
“So you saw the man in the red truck and about an hour later the church was on fire?” Noah asked again for the third time. I had the feeling he was having a hard time believing that in a few short hours, so much wickedness had found its way into our midst.
“Could the church have been struck by lightning?” I asked.
“I didn’t hear any thunder,” Lizzie said.
Noah shook his head. “One of the men from the fire department said the fire started from the inside. He found something thrown through a window in the back of the church. He called it a Molotov cocktail. Sounds like the same thing used to start the fire at our house.”
“I heard they were used to start church fires in other towns too,” I said.
We were sitting around a table in the dining room. Levi, who had been working at Noah’s, was with us. “I’m so grateful our pastor survived,” he said. “But it’s hard for me to believe our church is gone.”
Noah nodded, but no one else responded. The loss was almost overwhelming. For some reason, we were all hungry after we came back to the restaurant, so Lizzie made sandwiches and poured us each a glass of cold milk. Charity had gone back to bed, but it had taken her a while to fall asleep. The fire had frightened her, but if she’d known it had been set deliberately, she would probably have been terrified. That’s exactly how I felt.
“It had to be the guy we saw,” Lizzie said. “Although I don’t understand why he’d drive through the middle of town as if he wanted us to see him. It seems strange to me.”
“I agree. And why not set the fire and leave town right away? Why wait for an hour? Where was he all that time?”
“Maybe he drove through town and then hung around because he wanted us to know it was him,” Lizzie said. “He’s probably proud of what he did. Maybe setting our house on fire wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to see something bigger burn to the ground.”
Noah grabbed her hand. “Regardless of this man’s motives, we’ve got to remember that we’ve only lost a building. We’re the church, and we’re all still here. Like Levi said, we should just be grateful Pastor Mendenhall is still with us.”
“Thanks to Jonathon,” Lizzie said. She looked at me.
“He’s a brave man, Hope. Someone to be proud of.”
Noah started to say something, but Lizzie held up her hand. “Yes, I know. We’re not supposed to be proud, but I don’t mean it that way. You know exactly what I’m saying.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Noah interjected, “but you’re right.” He looked at me, a funny look on his face. “How did the man in the red truck get into town in the first place, Hope? Wasn’t Jonathon supposed to be watching the road tonight?”
“No. It was Roger’s night. Jonathon said he was going to your house to work.”
Noah frowned. “He never showed up.”
“Well, maybe I misunderstood. When the fire started he was in town.”
Noah shook his head. “I can’t figure out how this guy got into downtown Kingdom without alerting someone. If Roger was stationed at the crossroad, wouldn’t he have seen him?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.” I didn’t feel it was right to criticize Roger or Jonathon about the obvious failure of their plan, since they were watching the road out of the goodness of their hearts and their concern for our community. But frankly, the situation bothered me too. Where was Roger? What had gone wrong?
“We’ve got to call your father in the morning,” Lizzie said, changing the subject. “Too much has happened. He’ll be angry if we don’t.”
“I know.”
“Yes, he needs to know about the church,” Noah agreed. He reached for his sandwich and took a big bite. “And about the guy in the red truck.”
Lizzie grunted. “That’s not all of it. There’s the fact that Hope was shot by Sophie Wittenbauer.”
Noah’s mouth fell open and he almost dropped his sandwich. “What? Shot? What are you talking about?”
I frowned at Lizzie.
She shrugged. “Sorry, sweetie, but there’s just too much going on. Everything needs to come out in the open.”
Although I didn’t want to get Sophie in trouble, Lizzie was right. I took a deep breath and told Noah the whole story. “In other words,” I said when I was finished, “Papa left me alone for one night, and I got shot at, stalked by a killer, and watched our church burn down. I have a feeling he’ll never let me out of his sight again.” I sighed and took a bite of my sandwich. Lizzie’s tuna salad was delicious, but for some reason, all I could taste was smoke.
