Chapter 8
Sharee glanced at the clock once more and sighed. She could compare this Sunday afternoon to a tortoise race. The last few days had been no better.
She had filled her time with work on her computer. New ordinances were being enacted for the homeless, and she sent emails to City Council members outlining Downtown Ministries’ stance on them. Homelessness could be a dividing issue; there were positive and negative aspects about the new ordinances, and Sharee tried to highlight a balance.
John had picked her up for the Sunday morning service and taken her to lunch at a small restaurant nearby. Things felt normal. Her headaches were gone; her back better.
When John dropped her off at her apartment again, she had no plans for the evening service. He’d apologized for having would be busy mowing the church property this afternoon. It seemed like the work at the church never ended. She sighed again and settled back with a new book on her Kindle.
When she heard the text notification, she fumbled with her purse on the end table and pulled the phone out. Lynn’s face showed on her cell. She swiped across its face.
“Bruce will be singing in tonight’s service. You coming?”
Her thumbs flew in response. “What? You’re sure?” Bruce hadn’t sung since his accident.
“Yes. Just heard from Daneen.”
“Yeah! John and I will both be there.”
She texted John and waited. He’d be as thrilled as she was. She returned to her book, but an hour later, he hadn’t responded. He always returned her messages or her calls. Anxiety caved its way down inside her. What if something was wrong? What if…
Feeling foolish, she called Daneen. Had she seen John this afternoon? Yes, out in the field on the mower. Just like he’d said. What was the problem then? Even on the riding mower, he would have his phone with him. He’d broken enough belt clips, though. He might have left it inside.
As time for the service drew near, she found herself pacing back and forth in her apartment. John always attended church. Even though she hadn’t planned to go tonight, he would. He should be getting ready for church now. So, why hadn’t he returned her call?
When the clock showed fifteen minutes before the start of service, she decided to drive herself. She shouldn’t be driving, but she wanted to support Bruce—and to find out where John was. She took the back roads. Her grip on the steering wheel caused the muscles across her shoulders to tighten. A headache had started by the time she arrived.
When she pulled into the parking lot, she saw John standing by China’s car. Her heart squeezed, jumped, and then fire flicked inside and rose in her face. This was why he hadn’t answered her calls? No, don’t assume…
John’s head rose, and his eyes widened. He said something to China and strode to Sharee’s car. Grabbing the driver’s door, he jerked it open.
“What are you doing?” The accent on each syllable and his clenched jaw left her no doubt about his mood.
“Coming to church. Looking for you.” Her tone matched his.
“You’re not supposed to be driving.”
“I had no other way.”
“You knew I’d come get you. Why didn’t you call?”
“I did call.” Her eyes went past him. “But perhaps you were busy.”
He glanced at China and back to her. “I told you…”
“In fact, I texted and called.”
“I never got it. I couldn’t find—”
“As I said, perhaps you were busy.”
“I told you that you had nothing to worry about in that area. Get over it, will you?”
Get over it? As she climbed from the car, other people went past them heading for the church.
He took her arm. “What were you thinking, driving yourself here?”
She snatched her arm free. “I wasn’t thinking anything! I came to hear Bruce sing.”
“Bruce? What’s going on with you two, anyway?”
“Nothing’s going on, Mr. Get-Over-it. He hasn’t sung since before the accident. You know that. I just wanted to be here for him.” She looked past his shoulder, and China smiled at her. “And you’re embarrassing me. Everyone can see we’re arguing.”
John’s brow wrinkled. He glanced around. With her smile hovering still, China started up the church steps. Another couple glanced their way as they mounted the steps after China.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” John said, the words short and impatient.
Hearing the tone, tears sprung to her eyes. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t going to cry about this.
John growled something she couldn’t understand and caught both her arms. “Come here.” He pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth.
Someone giggled behind her. Sharee yanked free. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryann and a friend walk past. Heat singed her face.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“You’re so worried about everyone knowing we’re fighting, that I thought I’d do something about it.”
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“What? Kiss you?”
“You know what I mean.”
“You embarrass too easy.” His tone was dismissive. “I couldn’t believe you weren’t home when I…”
“I might embarrass too easy,” she cut across him, “but do you always have to act on the first thought that comes to your mind?”
“Better than being ten years late.”
“Ten years early is just as bad.”
They stood glaring at each other until John’s face changed. Amusement lit his eyes, and his mouth curved upwards.
“This is not funny.” She punched him in the chest and walked past him.
“Hey!” His voice followed her. “You almost broke my collar bone, woman.”
Sharee ran up the steps and ducked into the ladies’ room. Four or five women stood before a large mirror, fussing with their hair and make-up. Her eyes filled with tears. She needed a few minutes to get hold of her emotions. Why couldn’t the bathroom be empty?
Someone swung the door open behind her. “Okay, everybody out. Now. But you, Sharee.” Lynn pointed her finger at her. “Ladies, you’re going to have male company any minute. You’d better hurry.”
The others sent a glance her way as they filed out.
“He wouldn’t dare.”
Lynn nodded at her. “Oh, I think he would. I barely stopped him just now. I told him I’d bring you out.”
“No. Tell him to leave me alone.”
“If I tell him that he’ll be in here in half a second. You’ve got to come out.”
“You don’t know—”
“No, I don’t, and I don’t want to know. You’ll work it out.” Hard knocking made them both jump. “Give us another minute, please.”
“Tell him to go sit in the sanctuary,” Sharee said. “Then I’ll slip out the back.”
“No way.” Lynn shook her head. “Didn’t you come to hear Bruce? You’re not slipping out anywhere. Go sit with John and talk with him after the service.” Sharee scowled at her, but Lynn waited until she jerked her head in agreement. “Okay. I’ll tell him to find a seat, and that you will come out in a minute.” She went out the door.
Left alone, Sharee dried her eyes, and stood silent, dredging up the courage to walk into the sanctuary. She heard the music start and gritted her teeth. Lifting her head, she went out the door and walked down the aisle.
Everyone stood in front of their chairs, singing. No heads turned her way, but she imagined their eyes settling on her when she passed each row. She grumbled under her breath when she saw that John had picked a place near the front.
Stopping next to him, Sharee sent a glance his way. He moved back so she could slide past. She had to touch him to get in place, but when she turned to face forward, she left a large space between them. And the singing continued forever. Would it ever end?
Pastor Alan moved to the podium. “Bruce came to me yesterday and said it was time he sang
again.” Clapping interrupted him. “Yes, we’ve missed the anointing God has placed on him. He told me he had a special song on his heart. It’s a familiar one. ‘It Is Well with My Soul’.”
John tilted his head in her direction. “I went to your place, and you weren’t there.” He said under his breath.
Sharee stiffened. She didn’t want to talk with him. “I’m trying to listen to Pastor Alan.”
John muttered something she couldn’t make out but leaned closer. “You told me you weren’t coming tonight, but when I couldn’t find my phone, I decided to drive over to make sure. I was running late, but when I got there, your car wasn’t there.” She shifted in the seat but didn’t respond. “Have you any idea what I thought?”
“As some of you know,” Pastor Alan continued, “the song was written by Horatio Spafford in the late 1800’s. Two tragic events happened to him during that time.”
“I tried to call you and text,” Sharee said under her breath. “I left a couple of messages, but never heard from you. It was getting late, and you still hadn’t called, so I just decided to drive. Is that okay with you?”
“No. You’re not supposed to be driving. How was I to know where you’d gone? I raced back here to find my phone in case you’d called, and…”
Pastor Alan’s eyes focused on them. “First Spafford lost his fortune in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. He was ruined financially.”
“Ssshh.” Sharee whispered, wishing they’d sat farther back.
“China was the first person I saw,” John continued. “I asked if she’d seen you but then you drove up. I couldn’t believe…” He cut short the words as Pastor Alan again turned their way.
“The second tragedy in Spafford’s life,” the pastor said, “happened when his four daughters were killed in a ship collision a few years later.”
John touched her arm. “After what’s happened, can you understand what I felt when you weren’t home?”
Sharee started to snap back at him when his question registered. What had he thought when he couldn’t find her? The same anxiety that had crawled through her must have assailed him, too. No wonder he’d lost his temper.
She covered his fingers with hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She stopped. Pastor Alan’s gaze slid their way again.
“Later,” he said, “when Spafford himself took a ship across the same area, he wrote this song that we all know so well. Afterward, he and his wife went on to become missionaries in Israel. The song bears listening to again.” When he emphasized the last sentence, Sharee felt heat rise in her face. He moved off the stage as Bruce rolled forward.
Sharee inclined her head in John’s direction. “I’m sorry. I was so annoyed that I couldn’t get in touch with you that I didn’t think.”
His eyes came her way, and his face relaxed. His hand circled hers.
The music started. Bruce glanced their way and then over the rest of the congregation before he closed his eyes and began to sing. His rich, deep voice filled the church.
“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
“When sorrows like sea billows roll;
“Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
“It is well… it is well…with my soul.”
As Bruce sang the chorus again, the words hung over the sanctuary, permeating the air like warm, moist liquid.
“It is well... with my soul,
“It is well; it is well, with my soul.
“Though Satan should buffet, though trials shall come
“Let this blessed assurance control
“That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
“And has shed His own blood for my soul.”
Sharee felt the presence and anointing of God descend across the congregation. John’s fingers intertwined hers, and she closed her eyes, listening to the words. Everything else dropped away. Bruce’s voice and an overwhelming sense of God’s presence filled her.
“It is well… It is well…with my soul…with my soul.
“It is well, it is well… with my soul.”
Tears formed behind her eyelids. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps for Bruce, for others she knew that had been through hard times, and because God was so good. Why had she been so impatient with John? God, why would you visit us? Me? What am I that you are mindful of me? She felt humbled, like she wanted to kneel, to lie on her face.
“My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
“My sin, not in part, but the whole,
“Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more.
“Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, Oh my soul.
“It is well…It is well…with my soul…with my soul.
“It is well, it is well with my soul.”
As Bruce sang the chorus again, John’s whispered words of prayer came her way. Sharee’s heart swelled. The tears wet her cheeks now. Bruce’s voice changed as he began the last stanza.
“And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
“The clouds be rolled back as a scroll.
“The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend.
“Even so, it is well…with my soul.
“It is well…It is well…with my soul…with my soul.
“It is well, it is well… with my soul.”
The richness of his voice drew out and as the music ended, no one moved. Sharee bowed her head. Lord God, nothing compares with the beauty of your presence.
When the service ended, John enclosed her hand in his, and they walked through the doors toward the field. The peace that filled the sanctuary hovered close. The night sky stretched high overhead, and stars pricked its darkness. Wind stroked cool fingers across her skin, lifting her hair.
They stopped at the pond’s edge, and he drew her against him, her back to him. “Sharee, did you ever think God could be so personal? So real?” His voice was a whisper. “It was like this overseas. His presence…so thick.”
She said nothing, not wanting to break the awe that surrounded them. Across the water, the cypress trees swayed against the inky sky.
“The daily things don’t seem at all important when you feel His Spirit like we just did.”
“It puts things in perspective.”
John sighed. “It does.”
“I’m sorry.”
He turned her around. “No, I’m sorry.”
“I was so upset when I couldn’t get you—”
“And I panicked when I couldn’t find you.”
“Then seeing you with China—”
“Seeing you drive up.” He enfolded her in his arms. “I lost my temper.”
She leaned her head against his chest and sighed. “I love you. God is good to us.”
“He is.” He rubbed the roughness of his chin over the top of her head. “But please…don’t disappear again without warning.”
“Don’t misplace your phone.”
He chuckled. “I’ll try. Look up here.”
“What?” She lifted her head, and he tightened his arms and covered her mouth with his. The smell of night jasmine circled them.
When he pulled back, he traced a line along her jaw. “I love you, too.”
“Umm.” Sharee snuggled close.
“Come on. I showered this afternoon after mowing, and I bet I set it down there.” They walked to the parking lot. “Wait here, why don’t you? I’ll check the shower stall in the tool building, and then I’ll drive you home.”
“But I’ve got my car.”
“The doctor said—”
“If you drive me home, one of our cars will be here.”
He said nothing, but she sensed his hesitation.
“John?”
“I want to take you home. Let me get my phone.”
As he turned away, she said, “You can’t protect me 24/7.”
He stopped and looked back at her. “I know that.”
“Can’t you just follow me home? Get your phone and follow me in the truck? I’ll be okay.”
He hesitated longer this time, ran a hand through his hair and then exhaled. “Okay. I’ll follow you. Wait for me.”
Sharee climbed into her Honda and watched him disappear into one of the buildings. She leaned back against the seat, and the pain in her back told her she’d been up too long.
It rankled when he acted like she needed taking care of. She’d been on her own for eight years. But she had to admit, at times, having someone look out for her was like a warm fuzzy.
Sharee glanced across the parking lot and saw John walk from the building. Alan came out, too, and turned to lock the door.
She backed out of her parking space, passed his truck and looked his way again. The two men stood close together. John’s head tilted towards his cousin’s.
“Come on, babe.” She yawned and eased her Honda CR-V forward, around the fellowship hall and down the driveway towards the road. Braking at the six-lane highway, she waited and smiled. He’d be in overdrive if she went on without him.
A few seconds later, lights swung around the building and headed up the drive.
All right. She pulled onto the highway. The trip to her apartment would take ten, maybe fifteen, minutes at the most. Her eyes focused on the rearview mirror. She frowned. That looked more like a car than John’s truck. As the other vehicle passed a street light, Sharee shook her head. It was a car. She’d pulled out in front of someone else.
The car’s lights brightened, approaching fast. Sharee pulled into the right, into the outside lane. Which one of their law-abiding congregation was this? She smiled. All right. Pass me. You’re obviously in a hurry.
But the car swung in behind her, the lights swelling as it drew close. Sharee straightened. What was going on? The rearview mirror glowed now, the car almost on top of her. She yanked the steering wheel to the left and swung back into the middle lane. The car behind her swerved, too, then closed the area between them in a burst of speed.
What…Sharee jerked the Honda back to the right; but it was too late. The other car slammed into hers. The impact flung her head backward then forward and sent the SUV sliding out of control.
In a moment, the car slowed. Sharee shoved herself upright and gripped the wheel. What had just happened? Was the person drunk? On drugs? A glimpse at the rearview mirror gave her one instant of warning. The other car jumped forward again. The collision this time snapped the seat belt tight, cutting into her neck and spun the SUV across the roadway. She clung to the wheel. The side of the road flew at her, and the Honda CR-V shot over the dirt and grass, bucking hard before crashing into the ditch. The airbag exploded.
As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2) Page 12