Wedding Song in Lexington, Kentucky

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Wedding Song in Lexington, Kentucky Page 6

by Jennifer Johnson


  He knew Megan was a Christian. And from what little he’d seen, she seemed to be a good influence on his niece. The girl needed a woman’s influence. A woman who loved the Lord and lived for Him. Megan may be the answer to his petition to God for help with Hadley.

  She may be more than that.

  The idea wrapped itself around his brain. He hadn’t been looking for a woman in his life. He’d been filled up with farmwork and Hadley. But now he’d met Megan and seen her in action with his niece. Thoughts and feelings were coming to him that he couldn’t recall the last time he’d pondered. To his surprise, the notions set kinda good with him.

  He followed Megan to the piano room. She surely wasn’t hard to look at. Small frame with curves in all the right places. Blond hair, shiny and as soft looking as fully-ripened wheat. Eyes so blue they shamed the sky for color.

  Megan turned to him. He stopped short and felt heat rising in his neck. It was a good thing she couldn’t read his mind.

  “She already knows the keys and where to place her hands. Teaching her will be a snap.”

  Colt nodded. He wished he knew something clever to say. He’d never known exactly how to act in front of a woman. Hadn’t been overly worried about it anyway. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the check he’d written to her. “Here. Before I forget.”

  Megan accepted the money. “Thank you.”

  A broken tune sounded from the piano, and Colt focused his attention on his niece. Though she stopped and started over several times, he recognized the tune. The same one Megan had been playing when he’d walked out. Only Hadley didn’t add the extra melody to “When the Saints Go Marching In.” She played the tune simply.

  After several moments of starting and restarting, pausing and moving her fingers to correct notes, Hadley finished the song, looked over at Colt, and smiled. “Whaddaya think?”

  Now she wasn’t mad at him. Now she was smiling, eyebrows lifted, expression in anticipation of his approval. The kid never failed to confuse him. He walked to his niece and patted her shoulder. “Sounds great. I can’t believe you got through the whole chorus after only one lesson.”

  Hadley’s smile lit up the room. It surprised him how such simple praise from him meant so much to her. The older she got the more he tried to remember to tell her when she did a good job. She seemed to need the reminding.

  But it wasn’t in his nature to always be spouting off one compliment after another. To his thinking, less meant more. He tended to enjoy seeing the results of his hard work. He didn’t need to talk about it. Didn’t need a pat on the back. But Hadley sure did. The girl wore him out with her neediness lately. Still, he wanted to encourage her. And she was a good kid—when she wasn’t being moody.

  Colt turned to Megan. “She’s doing great.”

  “Like I said, she already knows a lot. Hadley may be the easiest student I’ll ever have.”

  Hadley jumped off the piano stool and raced to Megan. She wrapped her arms around her. “I’m glad Uncle Colt asked you to come. Stephanie says you’re the best, and I know it’s true.”

  Colt took in the affection Hadley already felt for Megan. She’d always been a loving child, quick to give hugs, but he could see she really liked Megan. He sent a silent prayer of thanks that God had brought her into their lives. Hadley needed a female influence.

  “Do I have to wait until next Saturday?” Hadley looked from Megan to Colt. “Couldn’t I have two lessons a week? Maybe she could come on Tuesdays, too?”

  Colt glared at his niece. “Hadley! I’m sure Megan has other things to do than come over and—”

  “Actually,” Megan interrupted him, “I wouldn’t mind at all giving you two lessons a week. On one condition.”

  Hadley clasped her hands and bounced on her heels. “What?”

  Megan looked from Hadley to Colt. A slight blush colored her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip. The mixture of mischief and hesitation in her expression drew him. He couldn’t wait to hear the condition.

  “What?” Colt and Hadley asked together.

  She blew out a breath. “I used to ride horses when I was a girl living in eastern Kentucky. Could we maybe work out a trade, the extra hour lesson for an hour of riding?”

  Colt’s jaw dropped. That was what she wanted—to ride horses? The woman couldn’t be more perfect for Hadley. Or him. “Are you serious?”

  She wrinkled her nose and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah.”

  Hadley snorted. “Well sure. We can do that.” She motioned outside. “We can go out there right now. I’m always open to a horse ride. I didn’t know you rode horses.”

  Megan chuckled. “It’s been awhile. I may be a bit rusty, but hopefully it’s like riding a bike. It’ll come back to me.”

  Colt motioned to the door. “You wanna go now?”

  “I would love to.” Megan shook her head. “But I can’t. My sister’s getting married in July. We’ve been working on some decorations, and we still have a ton to do.”

  She picked up her purse from the settee and gave Hadley another hug. Colt wished she’d offer one to him, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath. Maybe another day.

  He followed her to the door. “So, we’ll see you Tuesday?”

  “Sounds great. What time?”

  “You can come for dinner if you’d like,” Hadley answered.

  Megan shook her head. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but I’m having a dinner with a friend. Would six be too early?”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Hadley.

  Megan looked at Colt, and he nodded. He wished she would come to dinner as Hadley had suggested. He hoped her plans weren’t with a date. Here he’d been having all these thoughts of her being a perfect mate for him, and he didn’t even know if the woman had a boyfriend. He hoped she didn’t.

  “Okay. I’ll see you then.” Megan waved and walked down the sidewalk.

  Hadley looked up at Colt. “I really like her.”

  “I can tell.”

  “She’d be good for you, too.”

  Colt didn’t respond. He ruffled her hair then walked away from the door. The oven beeper sounded, and Hadley ran to the kitchen. Saved by the bell. He didn’t want his niece to see he thought she was right.

  Chapter 7

  Character is doing the right thing when nobody’s looking. There are too many people who think that the only thing that’s right is to get by and the only thing that’s wrong is to get caught.

  J. C. WATTS

  Justin looked at his reflection one last time in the full-length mirror. He appeared comfortable in his newly pressed khakis and bright melon polo. A fresh shave and a recent haircut completed the look. The last time he’d felt so nervous was when they’d gone to trial for the Jones’s divorce proceedings. He’d had to squelch more than one bloodbath with those two arguing over their five million dollars in family assets.

  At the time, he’d dug into the case, anxious to make Mrs. Jones the victor and him a benefactor of the win. Now it hurt to think he’d been so excited and consumed in helping the desolation of a thirty-five-year union. Some moments he still wondered if Mrs. Jones would have been willing to try counseling if he had suggested it.

  But past was past. He couldn’t change it. And God had forgiven him. He picked up the brown leather study Bible he’d been making good use of and headed downstairs. He hadn’t told Megan of his plan to visit her church. She probably assumed as much since he’d gone to Bible study on Thursday, but he’d been busy on Friday, and they hadn’t really talked about Sunday morning services.

  He hadn’t wanted to discuss it with her anyway. This was something he needed to do on his own. Free of women. His stomach churned when he thought of the possibility of running into Amy. He hadn’t seen her in years, but she had once attended the church, and she might still be there.

  Memories of his relationship, if he could call it that, with the woman flooded his mind. She was beautiful. Her husband had an affair. She
didn’t want the divorce, but her husband did. She’d talked about her faith and cried for God to help her. She’d been vulnerable but determined. Then succumbed.

  And Justin had congratulated himself for it.

  Justin clamped his eyes shut and pressed the Bible against his chest. “God, I can’t do it. The walls will fall in if I walk through those doors on a Sunday morning.”

  A scripture from 2 Corinthians washed through his mind, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” He couldn’t fathom why God would save him. Why He would choose him. His sin was so ugly. So arrogant. So self-serving. When he thought of the way he’d treated people, especially women, it sickened him to his core.

  Learn to fellowship with believers. He’d read Paul’s books over more times than he could remember. Paul claimed to be the worst of sinners, seeking out the destruction of Christians, encouraging the stoning of Stephen. And yet when Paul gave his life to Jesus, he changed. Radically. Completely. And without hesitation.

  Opening his eyes, Justin grabbed his keys off the foyer table. He had to go to church. Had to hear God’s Word. He didn’t deserve the right to walk through those church doors, but God had given the grace, and he could not deny his Lord.

  Justin made his way out of the house and to the car. Christian music pealed from the speakers as he drove the short distance. He just had to make it through today. Sit in the back. Talk to as few people as possible. Just take the first step. Going alone felt so different than going the one time with Kirk. His nerves surprised him.

  He pulled into the parking lot and watched as people walked into the church. A family with a little boy and infant. A teenage girl and a woman who was probably her mother. An elderly couple. A middle-aged man.

  He waited as the flow of members and visitors became more sporadic. Glancing at his watch, he knew the service started in less than five minutes. But he wanted to wait until the very end. Normally he ate up attention from people. Looked for a pat on the back or a word of praise for showing up. Today he just wanted to slip in. Be invisible.

  See if Amy was there.

  If she was, he would need to apologize to her. If not today, soon. She may smack his face or laugh at him. Spit on him maybe. He would deserve all of it. She had been a conquest. And he had won. His gut churned anew at the memory.

  Pushing the thought away, he opened the car door and stepped out. The church doors had shut. Hopefully the men who were standing there welcoming people inside had already gone to their seats.

  He walked up the stairs and opened the large wooden door. An older woman with graying light brown hair stood beside the door that opened to the sanctuary. Her dark red lips parted into a welcoming smile as she handed a bulletin to him. “We’re happy to have you.”

  He accepted the paper and nodded. “Thank you.”

  She pointed to the left side. “There are some open seats in the back.”

  He went inside. To his relief, the congregation was standing and singing a song he didn’t recognize. It had a contemporary beat, but he hadn’t heard it on the radio. He assumed there were many songs he wouldn’t recognize. “Amazing Grace” maybe, but that might be it.

  The words to the song were displayed in large letters on a screen in the center of the wall. A tall red-haired man stood behind the pulpit singing with a fervor Justin had witnessed from a television worship leader when he’d been a boy shuffling through stations. The man waved his right hand back and forth to the beat of the music. As a kid, Justin thought the guy on TV looked goofy. But this man obviously sang with his whole heart.

  Justin slipped into an empty pew in the very back of the room. His plan to go relatively unnoticed was working until the music stopped and the worship leader invited everyone to “reach around and shake someone’s hand.”

  He cringed but plastered a smile on his face as one person after another made his or her way to him to greet him and shake his hand. He hadn’t seen Megan. Or Amy. In truth, he didn’t want to run into either of them.

  They finally sat down, and Justin went ahead and opened his Bible to the passages listed in the bulletin. Music started again, and he looked back to the front.

  Megan was there. Alone. She held a microphone. She was going to sing?

  “I’m not going to play today.” Her voice reverberated through the room.

  A grunt of disapproval washed over the congregation, and Justin looked around. People could act like that in church? Someone could speak from the pulpit and the congregation could respond, and with a negative sound? He thought old men stood behind the pulpit and preached the truth about hell, and the congregation listened. Maybe a few of the older men said, “Amen” or something, but there wasn’t any actual interaction.

  Megan continued, “But I’m still going to sing.”

  Laughter and applause sounded from the people, and Justin looked around again. This church was nothing like he expected. Completely different from Kirk’s. He settled back in the pew and studied his firm’s administrative assistant. He’d never heard Megan sing. He knew she played piano. Figured she must be pretty good, because she had a degree in it. He probably should have assumed she sang, but he’d never put much thought into it. She wasn’t the kind of girl he went after.

  She was pretty enough. Not gorgeous but pretty. She wasn’t flashy like the girls he dated. Didn’t have a husband or a boyfriend whom he needed to best and steal her away from. He inwardly growled. How he hated the man he was. He thought it might take the rest of his life to restore his reputation. And he wouldn’t be able to do it. God would have to.

  The background music continued, and then Megan joined in. Her voice little more than a whisper, she sang of forgiveness. The music flowed softly, like water trickling across a creek bed, and Megan’s voice, gentle yet sure, added the message to the flow.

  As the song progressed, the music crescendoed, and Megan’s volume rose as she sang of God’s triumph over our mistakes and the strength of His restoration. Her voice mastered confidence and beauty and conviction. He felt the words, the sound, the truth to the depth of his being.

  As the song ended, Justin watched her. Megan transformed when she sang. Her face, her voice, her body language. All of it spoke of a woman completely overwhelmed with adoration for God. How had he never really noticed her?

  He had no intention of really noticing her now. He was focused on the Lord and building a relationship with Him. He needed to spend time making God the true Lord of his life.

  Still, Megan stirred something in him. It was different than he’d felt with other women. It was pure. Holy. He didn’t want from her. He wanted to give to her. It was a different feeling than he’d ever known. Even though he didn’t know what to make of it.

  For now, Justin didn’t need to dwell on it. The song had given him the confidence he needed to sit in the church. He was a sinner, but he was forgiven. He could start anew.

  The preacher walked to the pulpit. The man was younger than Justin had anticipated. He wore a white button-down shirt and green striped tie and brown pants. His sandy-colored hair was cut short, but he wore a mustache and wide goatee. He looked more like a dressed-up Harley Davidson rider than a preacher.

  Then the man spoke, leading the congregation in prayer. Justin knew he was a man following God. Humble. Sincere. Honest. Immediately Justin wanted to hear the message this man would deliver.

  With his eyes still closed, he felt someone slip into the pew on the far side away from him. To his surprise, his heart raced at the thought of Megan sneaking in from the back and choosing a seat close to him.

  When the prayer ended, he glanced to the end of the pew. The couple looked at him and nodded. Then recognition dawned. It was Amy. And the husband Justin helped her divorce.

  The sermon was agonizing. Justin didn’t hear a word the preacher said. Instead, he battled over whether he should talk to Amy. Was she married to the man again? Did he know about her and Justin?

 
; She was on his list of women to whom he planned to apologize—but at church with her ex-husband, boyfriend, husband, whatever the guy was? Justin wasn’t sure this was the most appropriate venue.

  The service finally ended. God, what do I do? He glanced at Amy. The guy had already stood and made his way to Justin. With his pointer finger, he poked Justin’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

  Justin’s old nature, which hadn’t had much time to change, erupted, and he grabbed the man’s finger and pushed it away. “Attending a church service.”

  “I know what you did.” Fury laced the man’s eyes and etched his jaw. He balled his hands into fists. “Did you come here to see my wife?”

  Justin cocked his head. He owed Amy an apology, but if this guy thought Justin would sit by and allow himself to be pummeled, he’d learn real quick that white-collar workers could fight as well. Especially when provoked. “Ex-wife?”

  “She’s my wife again. No thanks to you.”

  Justin’s brow puckered. “If I remember correctly, she came to see me because of you.”

  The man pulled back a fist, and Justin readied himself to lay the guy flat on his back.

  “Timmy, please.” Amy grabbed the man’s arm.

  Justin simmered when he looked at Amy’s face, etched with embarrassment. His mistreatment of her haunted him more than any other. He wished he could change it. She was a Christian woman going through a very hard time. And he’d taken advantage of her.

  Justin looked at her, hoping she could see how much he meant the words. “Amy, I’m sorry.”

  Timmy bristled up again. “Do not talk to my wife.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Justin turned and saw Megan standing behind him. She held a Bible and some other materials against her chest.

  “Nothing. We’re leaving.” Timmy grabbed Amy by the arm and, before another word could be spoken, ushered her out of the church.

  Justin let out a long breath. He’d been nervous about attending church, but he hadn’t expected to make a scene. He glanced back at Megan, expecting her to inundate him with questions. Instead, she studied him. He felt uncomfortable, which didn’t sit well. Normally he was the epitome of confidence. He shrugged. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

 

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