The Snows of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 3)
Page 34
Signe looked at Franklin and raised an eyebrow, and he nodded slightly.
“We do have a surprise for you Mr. Nyman,” Signe said.
“Please, call me Frank, or better yet, Dad. I don't feel so old that way.”
“Okay, Dad. And thanks.”
“Now, what is this big surprise?”
“We need to go down to the village square again.”
“Out in that?” Frank asked.
“It'll just be for a little while. And we can stop at the Inn to warm up.”
Frank looked around at his son and daughter-in-law. “Okay. Let's go.”
The entourage made its way through the snow across the bridge, and entered the village square, Signe insisted on wrapping her scarf around Frank's eyes.
“Signe,” Frank said, “If I trip and fall, I'm going to kick your husband's can around the block.”
She laughed gaily. “It would almost be worth it, Dad.”
Frank smiled. “You know, I like having you call me Dad.”
She hugged him. “You are really sweet. Now, let me take your arm.”
She led him fifty yards into the village square and turned him around. “Are you ready?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay,” she said. “One, two, three!” And she whipped the scarf off.
Frank Nyman looked at the once empty podium in the central square of Montora Village. His eyes followed the base up and gazed at the statue of Wendy Nyman. The sculptor had posed Wendy bending slightly as she accepted a flower from a little girl. He had captured her as she looked just seconds before being murdered by an agent of the deranged former Duke Hepplewhite. Frank stared and said nothing.
“What do you think?” Signe asked.
Frank continued to stare and then his knees slowly buckled. He slumped to the snow and curled into a fetal position as the tears, which he had tried to hold in for the past year and a half, finally burst forth. He wept as only the broken-hearted can do.
Franklin and Signe stared at each other in horror. Franklin mouthed the word, “Oops.”
EPILOGUE
The party, which Franklin had declared to be the first annual Christmas Feast for the citizens of Montora was in full swing. Villagers had spent the afternoon clearing furniture from the lower floor rooms of the keep. Each room was then trimmed in garland and lights, each also having a roaring fire in its fireplace. Each also featured a buffet table piled high with meats, cheeses and sweets.
The rooms were filled with villagers as well as the members of the Baltic Regiment – who were rapidly becoming accepted as Montorans by the villagers. Franklin and Signe rotated through the rooms, greeting guests and accepting well wishes. Frank had found a chair in the corner of the Great Room where he conversed quietly with Glenn and Monica Foxworth. Major Martin Boodles, in full mess dress, stood nearby and contributed to the conversation.
Smith & Jones also eased from room to room, greeting old friends. Francine Jones was a tall elegant woman with grey hair and regal bearing. Her arm stayed linked with her husband's, and neither seemed disposed to be far from the other. In contrast, Carolyn Jones was short, frumpy and noisy. She and her husband held hands as she gaily yelled at the other guests in her whisky voice.
“Francine, t'isn't it great we can show off our men-folk tonight?” Carolyn yelled at Smith's wife.
Francine smiled and leaned over to say something to Carolyn, who responded with a great cackling laugh.
“You must be proud of Franklin,” Monica Foxworth said to Frank.
Frank set down his coffee mug. “The boy frightens me sometimes, but he has done well here. I have found little to criticize, especially not his choice of women.”
Monica laughed lightly. “We have been so delighted with Franklin and Signe's marriage. Of course it gets interesting when Franklin and Bunny start picking on each other.”
“He's a great son-in-law, Frank,” Foxworth said. “That being said, we learned early on how to push each other's buttons. This is, of course, to the eternal frustration of my sainted wife and daughter.”
Frank grinned. “So when you got religion you were able to kick the booze, but you still like a good fight.”
Monica smiled at Frank. “It's not like that at all, Frank. I threw myself into Jesus' arms because I was not only a lost soul, but I nearly lost my mind too. Bunny was much the same way.”
Foxworth nodded. “I just didn't know which way to turn, Frank. I mean, I was philosophical about my experiences, but what happened to Monica tore me apart. I came face to face with the utter helplessness that really afflicts all of us, if you want to be honest. When I saw the Lord heal Monica, it just pushed me to my knees. I knew then I needed Him to heal me.”
Frank's grinned slowly faded as he set his cup down next to the chair. “Yes, well, I think maybe I need to go inspect the plumbing.” He got up and slipped out of the room.
“He hasn't gotten over it, has he?” Monica asked her husband.
Foxworth shook his head. “We need to pray for him. Has he talked to Father Riggs yet?”
“I don't know, Bunny. I'll go find him.” And she slipped out of her seat.
Foxworth leaned over and caught Boodles' eye. “How goes the winter exercises?”
Major Boodles grinned broadly. “Fun, as usual. The locals claim to know the terrain and the weather. They are not of a mind to be out-marched by a bunch of retirees. And, as you well know, these retirees could walk anyone into the ground.”
“So you are getting value from the training?” Foxworth chuckled.
“I should say so, Governor. The non-coms do not have to do a lot of motivating.”
“The observers I sent up were impressed.”
“Are you going to have them start training a military force for Cambridge?”
Foxworth shook his head. “Not yet. You and I need to get together with Franklin and the Earl Paravel and parcel out that particular task.”
“Anytime, Governor.”
Monica Foxworth wandered through the rooms loaded with revelers until she located the village minister in one corner with a cup of cider. He smiled as he watched his wife Antonia interacting with Carolyn Jones.
“They look like they might be sisters,” Monica said.
Father Edmund Tracy Riggs looked at the governor's wife and laughed. “Perish the thought, Monica! Antonia is not quite that noisy.”
“They are having a great time, though.”
“They have a great time whenever they see each other.”
A Woogie drifted past and then stopped. “Friend Monica and the revered Trigger.” The voice coming from the vocoder was electronic and flat sounding.
“That's Reverend Riggs, Louie,” Monica corrected.
“Whatever. To be puzzled, the Woogie.”
“Why is that, Louie?” Riggs asked.
“Angel on tree,” and he pointed across the room at the decorated Christmas tree with the angel on top.
“Yes, what about it?”
“Seems uncomfortable. The Woogie would not like a tree shoved up...”
“Louie!” Monica yelled.
“So sorry, the Woogie,” Louie said as he drifted off.
Riggs bent over in laughter and struggled to catch his breath. “He does that to me every time! I just never know what he's going to say next.”
Monica placed a hand against the wall to brace herself as she shook with laughter. “If you can regain control of yourself, Father, I need to talk to you.”
Riggs straightened up, and bit his lower lip in an effort to recover. “Okay, I think I'm all right now, Monica.”
“Have you talked to Frank?”
“Just to say hi.”
“He needs help, Father. Signe told me they took him out to see the statue this afternoon and he just fell apart. Fell down in the snow and cried like a baby.”
“I was astounded at how rough he looks,” Riggs replied. “Sergeant Smith told me he doesn't sleep to speak of.”
“Is
the Lord working on him?” she asked.
“Probably. Have you noticed he is carrying that Bible around everywhere?”
“Yes, I did. He told us he was going to look for the fresher.”
Riggs was positioned to view the foyer. “Look there,” he nodded.
Monica turned to see a figure in a coat slip through the foyer and go outside.
“Tell Antonia I'll be back later,” he said as he pushed away from the wall.
The wind had died, but snowflakes danced as Frank walked across the bridge into the village square. The street lights provided circles of brightness on the ground, made hazy by swirling snowflakes. The warm light coming from the shops around the square and from the Montora Village Inn was inviting.
Frank walked over to the statue and studied it. He then brushed snow from a corner of the pedestal, and sat down. He pulled the Bible out of his pocket, and opened it. He tilted it so he could read in the available light.
“Do you know what you're reading?”
Frank looked up. “Oh, hi, Trace. Have a seat and freeze with me.”
Riggs brushed more snow off, and sat down. He pointed to the book. “So what do you think?”
“The answer's here, Father. I know it. Each time I read the Bible I become more convinced.”
“That's good news, Frank.”
“It would be good news if I could figure out what it's trying to tell me.”
Riggs took the book out of Frank's hands and paged through it. “It's pretty clear here.”
“A man came to Jesus by night,” Frank read.
“Yes,” Riggs said, “and he had much the same problem as you, Frank. He knew what he needed to do and didn't know how to do it.”
“So what's the answer?” Franks voice was almost a cry. “I keep reading this Bible and can't figure it out.”
“That's exactly right, Frank. Look at Nicodemus. He's asking Jesus how these things can be. He's a religious leader and he doesn't know.”
“You're trying to pull my leg, Trace,”
“Right. Never could fool you,” Riggs said with a smile. “Look down here to verse sixteen. It's probably the most famous verse in the Bible.”
Frank looked down the page. “You know how many times I have read this verse? Maybe fifty or sixty times.”
“Do you believe it?”
“Believe what?”
“Who is Jesus talking about?” Riggs asked.
“He's talking about himself.”
“Exactly. Believe in Him, Frank. You know you can't save yourself, right?”
“I don't deserve it.”
“And you can't earn it. No, Frank, Jesus says to believe in Him. You can trust Him to save you. You can't do it yourself.”
“How do I do that? I've been looking and looking, and I don't know how to do it.” Frank's voice was starting to rise.
Riggs put his hand on Frank's arm. “You simply have to ask him to save you.”
“That's it?”
“That's it. Do you believe everything the Bible says about Jesus?”
“I have to.”
“Make Him your Master. Trust Him to save you.”
“You mean I can just ask Him?” Frank sounded incredulous.
“You certainly can. You must.”
“Like, right now?”
Riggs nodded.
“What do I say?”
“Just talk to Him, just like you would talk to me.”
“Do I need to get on my knees?”
“If you want to.”
Frank stood up and turned around, then dropped to his knees. “Okay, God. I don't really know how to say this, but I guess I've made a royal mess of things. I don't know who else to turn to. You've got to save me. I know Jesus paid for it somehow. I don't know all of what this means, except that You're in charge now.”
Frank stood up, and Riggs did too. Frank looked up at the statue of Wendy.
“You know, Riggs, I don't know how I am going to live the rest of my life without her, but I'm glad I'm finally giving that problem to Somebody else.”
Riggs nodded. “And He will carry that for you.”
Frank looked up again at the statue. “I suppose I should go talk to Franklin and Signe.”
“That's a good idea.”
And the village pastor and Frank Nyman trudged back to the castle as the snows of Montora wrapped the village in a fresh mantle of peace.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ward Wagher lives in Greenville, South Carolina with his wife. A college professor and an Information Technology professional, Wagher writes Adult Christian Fiction, and Christian Science-Fiction. Visit Ward’s web site at www.wardwagher.com. He can be reached at ward.wagher@gmail.com
Table of Contents
DEDICATION.. v
CONTENTS. vii
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. i
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.. i
CHAPTER ONE.. 1
CHAPTER TWO.. 9
CHAPTER THREE.. 19
CHAPTER FOUR.. 27
CHAPTER FIVE.. 35
CHAPTER SIX.. 43
CHAPTER SEVEN.. 51
CHAPTER EIGHT.. 59
CHAPTER NINE.. 67
CHAPTER TEN.. 73
CHAPTER ELEVEN.. 81
CHAPTER TWELVE.. 89
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.. 99
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.. 107
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.. 115
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.. 123
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.. 129
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.. 137
CHAPTER NINETEEN.. 143
CHAPTER TWENTY.. 151
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.. 159
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.. 167
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.. 175
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.. 183
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.. 191
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.. 199
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.. 207
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.. 215
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.. 223
CHAPTER THIRTY.. 229
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.. 235
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.. 241
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.. 249
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.. 257
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.. 265
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.. 271
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.. 279
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT.. 285
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.. 293
CHAPTER FORTY.. 303
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE.. 311
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.. 319
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.. 325
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR.. 333
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE.. 339
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX.. 349