Light in the Storm

“I don’t want anyone going hungry.”

“Believe me, if they do, they have an eating disorder.”

Beth scanned the table laden with three cakes, two pies, several dozen cookies and brownies, vegetable and fruit trays with two different dips each, several kinds of small sandwiches without the crust, crackers and chips with assorted spreads and a cheese ball. “I had to put the drinks in the kitchen. I ran out of room.”

Jesse snatched up a carrot stick and took a bite. “So how many people are coming?”

“Besides you and Nick, Darcy and Joshua, there are the reverend, Tanya Bolton, Zoey Witherspoon, Paul Howard and Boswell.”

“Boswell? He didn’t say anything to me about coming.”

“I saw him at the grocery yesterday when I was buying some of the food and thought he might enjoy coming. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, especially since Nate and Cindy are over at Gramps and Susan’s. I’m glad Boswell’s getting out. I’ve felt guilty about uprooting him from Chicago. He promises me that he doesn’t mind living in Sweetwater, but I’m not sure I believe him.” Jesse popped a potato chip into her mouth. “What do you want me to help you with?”

Beth twirled. “Do I look all right?”

“Why, Beth Coleman, I’ve never known you to care too much about how you look.”

Regretting that she had given in to her panic and called Jesse for advice, Beth started toward the kitchen. She realized she was plain, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about how she appeared to others. Come on, Beth, don’t you really mean Samuel Morgan?

“You can wipe that smug smile off your face, Jesse. I just didn’t want to be overdressed.”

Jesse stopped Beth’s progress with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be serious. Turn around.”

Beth faced her friend, her hands on her waist, now hoping she could pull off an “I don’t care” attitude.

With a finger against her chin, Jesse studied her. “Black jeans with a cream silk blouse. Not bad. New blouse?”

The heat of a blush scored Beth’s cheeks. “Yes. I haven’t bought anything new in months.” And except for an occasional treat to herself for Christmas and her birthday, she purchased only the basic necessities she needed for school. While her siblings had been growing up, clothing had been expensive, not to mention later helping with their college tuition.

Holding up her hands, Jesse took a step back. “Stop right there. I’m glad you’re finally doing something for yourself and not just for your brothers and sister. It’s about time.” Her gaze skimmed the length of Beth once more. “Deep-six the tennis shoes. Heels would be better with what you have on.”

“Tennis shoes go with jeans.”

“But heels will look better with your blouse, which is soft and feminine. Don’t you have a black pair we got last year?”

“They’re awfully dressy. This is a casual party.”

Jesse flipped her hand in the air, dismissing Beth’s concerns. “You’ll be casually elegant.”

The sound of the doorbell cut through the sudden silence.

Beads of perspiration popped out on Beth’s upper lip. She didn’t give parties. Why had she come up with this way to kick off her new outlook on life? Bad, bad idea.

Jesse waved her toward her bedroom. “Go. I’ll get the door. I don’t want to see those tennis shoes.”

Wiping her hand across her upper lip, Beth hurried away, wondering if she could hide for at least an hour in her bedroom. She would have been fine with just Darcy, Joshua, Jesse and Nick. She could have convinced herself that this wasn’t a party she was responsible for, but the additional five people made a mockery out of that thought.

While rifling through the bottom of her closet for the box that held her black heels, she heard laughter coming from her living room and the doorbell chiming again. When she finally found the shoes, stuck way in the back, she examined them, unable to believe she had bought them. It was Jesse’s fault. She’d worn them only once—to Darcy’s wedding. Jesse had been with her when she had purchased them. In fact, Jesse had been the one who had insisted she buy them. On her own she never would have, and still couldn’t believe she’d let Jesse talk her into them. Beth held them up, still debating whether to wear the silk-and-leather heels. They were three inches high—two more than she usually wore—with long pointed toes and no back strap. They looked uncomfortable, but actually—much to her surprise when she had tried them on at the store—they were very comfortable.

When the bell announced another arrival, Beth kicked off her tennis shoes and removed her socks, then donned the black heels. She didn’t dare look at herself in her full-length mirror. She knew she wouldn’t leave the room if she did. Hurrying as quickly as possible in her heels, she came into the foyer as Jesse opened the door to another guest—Reverend Samuel Morgan.

He peered past Jesse toward Beth and for the barest moment his eyes flashed surprise. The hammering of her heart increased, worry nibbling at her composure. What did she look like? She’d tried some new makeup she’d gotten at the grocery store yesterday and had left her curly hair down about her shoulders, probably in a wild mess by now. She wanted to whirl around, go back to her bedroom and check her appearance in her full-length mirror.

Then he smiled and her world tilted for a few seconds.

After murmuring a greeting to Jesse, Samuel came toward Beth, his long strides purposeful as if he were a man on a mission. “Thank you for including me in your celebration.” He clasped her hand between his and shook it. “I haven’t had a chance to do much since moving here. As you suggested, it’ll be nice to meet some of my congregation in a relaxed atmosphere.”

Relaxed atmosphere? There was nothing remotely relaxed about her at the moment. “I’m glad you could come.” Her hand was still sandwiched between his. Suddenly she didn’t feel thirty-eight but a young woman of eighteen, inexperienced but eager to learn the ways of dating. That was not to say she hadn’t dated a few men over the years, but most of her time had been taken up with caring for her siblings and trying to make ends meet, first as a college student and then on the meager pay of a teacher. She definitely felt like a novice.

Finally releasing her hand, Samuel peeked into the living room, which also gave him a view of the dining-room table loaded with food. “Is everyone here?”

Beth scanned the small group of friends and nodded. “I like to cook and I just kept preparing food until I ran out of time.” She actually had missed not cooking for others since Daniel had left for college.

“I’m glad I didn’t have time to eat dinner before coming.”

“So am I. I don’t know what I’m going to do with this after you all leave.”

“Freeze it,” Jesse said, approaching them.

“I don’t have a big enough freezer. You all are going to have to take some home with you.”

“Did I hear correctly? We’ll be taking doggie bags home with us?” Joshua asked, helping Darcy onto the couch.

Darcy laughed, shifting to get as comfortable as possible for a woman eight months pregnant. “I still haven’t mastered the art of cooking, and poor Liz and Dad get tired of us coming to eat with them at the farm.”

Joshua sat next to his wife and took her hand. “She’s become quite good with one or two dishes. Sean and I don’t order pizza nearly like we used to.”

Darcy playfully punched Joshua on the arm. “I’m not that bad. I can prepare more than one or two.”

Beth leaned close to Samuel, and immediately realized her mistake when she got a whiff of his citrusy aftershave. “Yes, she is. Just remember that when planning anything having to do with food at the church.”

“I heard that, Beth Coleman. I thought you were my friend.”

The laughter in Darcy’s voice took the sting out of her words. “I’ll give you two doggie bags, Joshua.”

“Thanks. You’re a good woman, Beth.”

She was used to the ribbing among her and her friends, but with Samuel next to her, she couldn’t help feeling as though she were on stage in front of a whole group of strangers. And that was something she avoided at all costs. She was a behind-the-scenes kind of person, never wanting to be in the limelight like Jesse and even Darcy.

“Please, everyone get a plate and eat. The drinks are in the kitchen,” Beth announced, aware of Samuel’s every move next to her. She felt his gaze on her and wanted to escape. She knew both Jesse and Darcy would never allow her to. This was why she didn’t give parties, she remembered—too late.

“I believe you know everyone here, Samuel.” Beth gestured toward her guests. “I need to see if there’s enough ice for the drinks.” She practically ran from the man, making a beeline for the kitchen and, she hoped, time to regroup. If she had thought this party thing through, she would have invited at least half a dozen more people, she thought. She was afraid Jesse would begin to pair everyone off and find there was no one for Samuel except either Tanya or her.

In the kitchen Boswell placed ice into his glass from the bucket that Beth had already filled. He glanced toward her when she entered.

“Do you have everything you need?” she asked, relieved he was the only one in the room.

Jesse and Nick’s British manservant poured diet soda into his glass. “I swore I would never drink this stuff, but alas, the pounds are beginning to show. I can’t believe I’ve been forced to this.”

Beth suppressed a smile. “There’s always water.”

“You have bottled water?”

“Well, no. But the water from the tap is fine.”

Horror flitted across his face. “I’ll drink this.”

As he left, Beth said, “And don’t forget to eat. I’m sure there’s something on the table that isn’t fattening.”

The second he was gone, Beth released a long sigh, relishing the quiet of the kitchen. Then the door swung open and Tanya entered. “I almost ran into Boswell. If it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, he would have dropped his drink.”

“I’d better prop the door open or there’ll be an accident.”

While Tanya sailed past her to the counter where the drinks were, Beth retrieved a brick she used when she wanted to leave the swinging door open between the kitchen and the dining room. As she straightened from placing it at the base of the door, she took a step back and collided with a solid wall of flesh. The scent of citrus drifted to her, and she knew Samuel was behind her.

She fixed a smile on her face and turned. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got sodas, iced tea, decaf coffee and fruit punch. And of course, there’s water.” Nerves stretched taut, she listened to herself speak so fast she wondered if Samuel even understood what she said. He looked a little dazed. “Oh, and I forgot. I have hot apple cider on the stove,” she added a lot more slowly.

“That sounds nice. But I can get it.”

Tanya breezed by. “Beth, I’m filling in for Darcy in her Sunday-school class until after the baby comes.”

“Great,” Beth said to Tanya’s back as she disappeared into the dining room.

“She has so much energy.” Samuel followed Beth to the stove and watched her ladle a steaming cup of apple cider into a blue ceramic mug.

“That’s Tanya.” She poured some cider for herself.

Samuel leaned back against the counter and took a tentative sip of his drink, surveying the kitchen. “I like your home. Very cozy.”

“And small. Not now, but when my brothers and sister lived here, we met ourselves coming and going. One bathroom and four people isn’t what I call an ideal situation.” She was chattering again—most uncharacteristic.

“You raised all your siblings?” Samuel appeared relaxed and comfortable as though he was going to stay a while. He crossed his legs at the ankles and grasped the edge of the counter with one hand.

Dressed in black slacks and a striped gray-and-maroon shirt, he filled her kitchen with his large presence, someone who quietly commanded people’s attention. She still marveled that he was a minister, when he looked more like a linebacker or a well-trained soldier. Did he work out? That question surprised her and made her gasp.

Samuel cocked his head, his brow furrowed. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, berating herself for the folly of her thoughts. “Forgot something.” My brain, she thought, realizing she hadn’t really lied to her preacher.

“Can I help?”

“No, everything’s under control.” Just as soon as I stop thinking about you. “To answer your question, yes, I raised my brothers and sister. I was nineteen when my mother died in childbirth, and I wasn’t going to let the state take them away from our home, such as it is.”

“Where was your father?”

She should have realized he would ask that question. She bit the inside of her mouth, trying to transfer the mental pain she felt when her father was mentioned to a physical one instead. It didn’t work. Even after nineteen years her father’s abandonment bored into her heart, leaving a gaping hole she wasn’t sure would ever totally heal. “He left us when my mother was six months pregnant with their fourth child. He walked out one day and we never heard from him again.”

Samuel straightened from the counter. “I’m sorry. I know how inadequate those words can be at times, but it’s never easy when a parent abandons a child.”

“That’s why I would never abandon my brothers and sister to let some stranger raise them.”

“That was quite a task to take on by yourself at nineteen. You didn’t have any relatives to help you?”

“We’re a small family. My father had an uncle who tried to help some when he could, but he was old and set in his ways. Both of my parents were only children. My mother used to say that’s why she wanted a houseful of kids. I guess my father didn’t feel that way.” The intense pressure in her chest made each breath difficult. She drew in several deep gulps of air, but nothing seemed to relieve the constriction. She hadn’t thought about her father in a long time—most people knew it was a subject she didn’t discuss.

“I can see I’ve distressed you.” He took a step toward her, reaching to touch her arm in comfort.

She backed up against the refrigerator, feeling trapped by the kindness in his expression. “You would think I’d be over it after nineteen years.”

His arm fell to his side. “No, I don’t know if a child ever totally gets over a parent walking out on her. It’s hard enough on a child when one parent dies. Even though the parent doesn’t choose to die, the child still experiences abandonment.”

“Not just the child but the spouse, too.”

The air vibrated with suppressed tension, the focus of the conversation shifting.

For a few seconds a haunted look dimmed his dark eyes, then he managed to veil his expression by lowering his lashes. “Yes.”

Chapter Three

“You know, in here—” Samuel tapped the side of his head “—I know that my wife didn’t choose to leave us. But in here—” he splayed his hand over his heart “—it doesn’t make any difference. Pain is pain.”

Beth swallowed the tightness swelling in her throat. “I think Jane’s feeling the same emotions.”

“I know she is. She was very close to Ruth and took her death especially hard.”

But not as hard as you, Beth thought, seeing his anguish reflected in the depths of his eyes.

“Then we moved not long after that happened, and that was when I decided to resign from the army. Moving around was becoming too hard on my family, especially without their mother.”

“What made you become a chaplain in the army?”

“I wanted to serve my country and God. I thought I could do it by being an army chaplain.”

“But now you don’t think so?” She’d heard the doubt in his voice and wondered about it.

“I discovered you can’t serve two masters—at least, not me.” He turned away and walked to the stove to refill his mug.

The sight of his back, his shoulders stiff with tension, told Beth that topic of conversation was finished. She could respect that. There were a lot of things she wouldn’t discuss with others, and she and Samuel were practically strangers.

Even though the last thing she felt like doing at the moment was smiling, she did, needing to lighten the mood. “Tanya reminded me of something we’ll need to talk about soon.”

He threw her a glance over his shoulder, then slowly pivoted. “What?”

“I run the Sunday School, and since I’ll be leaving in the summer, we should discuss a replacement so I can train that person this spring.” She found if she voiced her plans out loud the reality of leaving Sweetwater became more real.

“Nothing like the present.”

“Here? Now?”

“Well, not exactly right this minute, but how about next week some time? Why don’t you come to Friday-night dinner at my house? Aunt Mae goes all out that night. For some reason she thinks we should celebrate the end of a work week. I don’t think she understands I do a lot of my work on the weekend. But it’s something she’s done for years and I didn’t have the heart to change it when she came to live with us.”

“I hate to intrude on a family evening.”

“Nonsense. If I entertain, it’s usually then.” Samuel sipped his cider, his gaze intent upon her.

The refrigerator still propped her up. Beth pushed away, surprised by the trembling in her legs—as though their conversation had affected her more than she cared to admit. “What time?”

“Six-thirty.”

“Fine.” She hoped she could stay awake long enough to hold an intelligent conversation. Friday nights were usually her crash night after a long week of teaching. She often would wake up around eleven, having fallen asleep in front of the television and having no idea what had been on the set earlier in the evening. “Speaking of celebrations, I think it’s time I threw my dart.”

“You really are going to decide where you go by throwing a dart?”

The incredulous tone of his voice made her laugh. “Yup.”

Beth walked through the dining room, encouraging everyone to have a seat in the living room. Her nine guests crowded into the small area, with Jesse sitting on the arm of the lounge chair that Nick occupied and Tanya on the floor next to the sofa.

Beth went into the foyer and retrieved from the closet a tagboard and one dart. “As you can see, this is a map of Central and South America. I’m planning a trip and tonight I’m deciding where. I’d ask someone to hold the board up, but I’m afraid I might be a bit wild with the dart, so instead I’ll position it on the rocking chair if Zoey doesn’t mind standing for a moment—unless you want to hold it.”

Her friend from school stopped rocking and leaped from the chair, horror on her face. “I’ll pass. I’ve seen you play sports.” To the group she added, “I would suggest everyone give her plenty of room. No telling where the dart will end up. I can remember the church softball game where she hit me and I wasn’t anywhere near where she intended to throw the ball.”

“Oh, yeah. You had a bruise on your leg for weeks after that,” Darcy said, scooting closer to Joshua on the couch so Zoey could sit next to her.

Beth positioned herself in front of the tagboard, then turned around to her guests. “Hence the warning.”

Several nearest her backed away. Beth squared off in front of the rocking chair, squeezed her eyes closed and tossed the dart. It clanged to the tile floor in the foyer.

“If you miss the map, does that mean you stay, Beth?” asked Paul Howard, an assistant principal at her school.

She started toward the dart. Samuel picked it up first and handed it to her. Their gazes touched for a long moment, humor deep in his eyes. She liked the way they crinkled at the corners. She liked their color—it reminded her of a piece of dark, rich chocolate that she loved to eat.

“No,” she murmured, suddenly aware of the silence in the room. “It only means I try again.”

Boswell and Paul moved back even farther. Half the room was clear for her next shot. Beth shook her head, closed her eyes and threw the dart without really giving it much thought, still rattled by the silent exchange a moment before with Samuel. It plunked into the tagboard. She eased one eye open and saw the dart in the middle of the map.

“Brazil.” Zoey came to stand beside her and stare at the map. “Guess you’d better get some Portuguese tapes instead of the Spanish ones.”

“The Amazon. How do you like heat and humidity?” Paul asked, stepping next to Zoey.

“Not to mention snakes and other unpleasant animals. Are you going to throw again?” Jesse flanked her on the other side.

With so much of South America being taken up by the Amazon, why am I surprised the dart landed there? Beth wondered. “No, I’m not going to throw again. Brazil it will be.”

A mild “heat” wave had tempered the bitter cold of the past few weeks, pushing the temperature up to near fifty. But with dusk approaching quickly, the air began to chill and the sun was low behind the trees. Beth paused on her porch and looked across her brown lawn, the drabness fitting her mood perfectly. Her feet ached from standing more than usual that week at school and her mind felt muddled from the late nights she’d spent grading writing assignments until her eyes had crossed and the words had blurred.

All she wanted to do was collapse into her soft velour lounge chair, switch on her television for background noise and stare unseeing at the screen. Do nothing. For once. But this was Friday and she had told Samuel she would come to dinner. With a heavy sigh, she stuck her key into the lock and opened her front door.

A noise from the back of the house alerted her that someone was inside. She tensed, her hand clenched around the knob.

“Beth, is that you?”

Relief sagged her body against the door. Daniel was home from college. “Yes.”

Her youngest brother came down the hall, drying his hair with a blue towel, wearing a pair of jeans slung low. “I just took a shower and was getting dressed to go out.”

She managed to close the front door without slamming it, a remarkable feat of patience when she didn’t think she had any left. “I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.”

“I caught a ride with Mitch. He’s taking me back on Sunday, too, so you don’t need to.”

“Oh.” Her exhausted mind couldn’t come up with anything else to say while she stared at her brother.

He hung the towel over his shoulder. “In fact, he’ll be by in fifteen minutes. We’re going to Pete’s.”

She refrained from saying “oh” again by mashing her lips together.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll tell you about my classes then.” He turned and headed down the hall toward his bedroom.

Beth watched him disappear, irritated at herself because she was irritated at Daniel for not telling her he was coming home for the weekend. She should be happy—and she was—but he had a way of taking over the whole house. To emphasize her thought, loud music blared from his room, chasing away the silence she desired after a day spent listening to 150 students.

When she placed her stuffed briefcase and purse on the table in the foyer, she noticed the mail that Daniel must have brought into the house. On top was an envelope from the Christian Mission Institute. She tore into it with a jolt of energy. A letter welcoming her interest in their overseas program and an application caused her hands to tremble. When she filled this out, she’d be one step closer.

As she stared at the application, an image of Samuel came into her mind—of a look of vulnerability that she had seen beneath his confident surface. A man in need of a friend. Surprised by that thought, she put the letter and application on the table next to her purse. She would deal with it later when she wasn’t so tired, when she wasn’t picturing a man who shouldn’t send her heart pounding with a smile.

Beth walked to the kitchen to find a drink with some caffeine in it. She rummaged around in the refrigerator, positive that she’d had one cola left. Nothing. She scanned the counter and discovered the empty can by the sink along with a dirty plate and fork. Daniel.