Gold in the Fire and Light in the Storm

by Margaret Daley

Jane shoved herself out of the desk, pushing it several inches across the hardwood floor. “Maybe we’re in for a blizzard.”

  “We don’t often have blizzards in Sweetwater,” Beth said with a smile. Even as a teacher she enjoyed the occasional snow day when school was canceled.

  “That’s good to hear, because it sure is snowing hard now,” Samuel said, looking toward the window.

  “Now, that’s something to pray about,” Jane mumbled, starting for the door.

  Samuel watched his daughter leave the classroom. “Sorry about that, Miss Coleman.”

  “Please call me Beth. I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I attend Sweetwater Community Church.”

  His brows rose. “You do? I didn’t see you there last week.”

  “I’m sorry I missed your first Sunday, but I was taking my brother to college in Louisville. He just started this semester and he had to move into the dorm.”

  “Then I look forward to seeing you this Sunday.” His gaze again slid to the window. “That is, if we don’t have that blizzard my daughter is praying for.”

  Beth fitted her hand in his to shake goodbye and was conscious of something else beside its firmness—a warmth. A warmth that shot up her arm and made her very aware of the man before her. The warrior impression she’d received earlier was tempered with the calmness he’d exhibited when dealing with his daughter. He gave off mixed messages, which intrigued Beth. She suspected he was more adept at listening to other people’s problems than telling anyone his.

  “Tomorrow the sun will be shining. Mark my words, Reverend Morgan.”

  “Hope you’re right, Miss—Beth. And please call me Samuel.” He walked toward the door, turned back and added, “I still have a lot to do to finish moving in and bad weather definitely puts a damper on things.”

  Before she realized what she was really doing, Beth asked, “Can I help with anything?” The second the words were out of her mouth, she bit down on her lower lip. Her first weekend in years without any obligations, and she was volunteering to help the reverend put his house in order. When would she learn? She didn’t have to be there for everyone. It was okay to take some time for herself.

  He chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I know how many papers English teachers have to grade. My children and I will get it done…if not this weekend, then the next.”

  When he left, Beth walked to the window and stared at the swirling mass of white, watching for Jane and Samuel to come out the front door. When they emerged, they were quickly obscured by the blowing snow. She loved cold weather and the occasional snow they had in Sweetwater. It brought out the child she’d never been allowed to be. But this storm might be worse than she had originally thought.

  Beth headed for her desk and quickly gathered those papers that the reverend had mentioned, stuffing them into her briefcase to grade over the weekend. But she promised herself as she left her classroom that she would find some time to make a snowman and give him a carrot for his nose and pieces of bark for his eyes and mouth.

  After pulling her cap down over her ears and tying her wool scarf around her neck, Beth exited the school building and walked toward where she knew she had parked her white car, even though in the driving snow it wasn’t visible. Halfway to the parking lot she spied her Jeep and quickened her steps. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blue Ford Mustang with the reverend and Jane standing next to it.

  Why haven’t they left? Beth wondered, and changed her destination.

  “Something wrong?” she asked as she approached the pair arguing while the snow blew around them.

  Samuel stopped what he was going to say to his daughter and glanced toward Beth. “I was for going back inside and getting help. Jane was for hiking home.” He gestured toward his car. “Won’t start.”

  “You probably can’t get anyone out here to help right now. Every tow truck will be busy just trying to haul people out of ditches. I can give you a ride home and you can see what’s wrong with your car tomorrow—if this snow lets up.”

  “You’re not going to get an argument out of me. Where are you parked?”

  Beth waved her hand toward her five-year-old Jeep Cherokee. “I don’t usually have too much trouble in the snow.”

  As they trudged toward the Jeep, Jane mumbled something under her breath. If her tight-lipped expression was any hint, Beth was glad she hadn’t heard what the teenager had said. When Beth reached her car, she unlocked her doors and slid inside while Jane plopped herself in the back seat and Samuel climbed into the front.

  “You’re staying at the rectory, aren’t you?” Beth asked, starting the engine.

  “Yes. I hope it isn’t too far out of your way.”

  “Practically on my way home.”

  Samuel stared out the windshield. “Can I help you scrape the windows clear of snow? I’m not sure how much good it will do, as fast as the snow is coming down.”

  Turning a knob on the dashboard, Beth cranked up the heat. “Let me warm up the car first, then we’ll see what can be done about the windows.” She peered over her shoulder. “Jane, I’ve got two scrapers under the front seat. Can you reach them for me?”

  With her mouth slashing downward, Jane produced the two scrapers and thrust them at Beth.

  “In fact, since we’re inconveniencing you, Jane and I will take care of the windows while you stay warm in here,” Samuel offered.

  “Dad,” Jane protested.

  “Yes? Do you have a problem with that? You can always walk like you wanted to a few minutes ago.”

  Jane folded her arms across her chest, her hands clenched, and stared out the side, muttering under her breath.

  Beth started to decline the offer of help, but she caught Samuel’s look. He shook his head as though he knew what she was going to say and wanted her to accept their assistance. She snapped her mouth closed and gave him the scrapers.

  While Samuel and Jane cleared the snow and ice built up on the windows, Beth watched, feeling guilty that she was warm while they were freezing. She didn’t accept help well and this was making her very uncomfortable, especially when she saw Jane’s face set in a frown, her cheeks red from the cold, her body beginning to shake because she was dressed in a short skirt with a heavy jacket that covered her only to her waist. Except for a pair of half boots, large portions of the teenager’s legs were exposed to the fierce elements. At least she wore gloves, Beth thought, tapping her hand against the steering wheel to keep herself from snatching the scraper from Jane and finishing the job.

  Ten minutes later father and daughter settled back into the Jeep, their sighs indicating they relished the warmth. Beth’s guilt soared. She had a problem with wanting to do everything for everyone else. She had to learn to say no and to let others do for her. Darcy and Jesse were always telling her that at their Saturday get-togethers. She should listen to her friends. But it was tough to go against ingrained behavior.

  Negotiating out of the parking lot, Beth drove slowly, glad that most people were off the roads and hopefully safely in their homes. “Too much longer and I’m afraid we would have been stuck at school.”

  Jane gave a choking sound, which caused her father to send a censuring look her way. Having raised three siblings as well as teaching high schoolers for the past fifteen years, Beth understood the inner workings of a teenage mind. Jane fitted into the category of those who hated school and would rather be anywhere but there—hence her desire to strike out and walk home in a snowstorm, even though she wasn’t dressed properly for any kind of walk.

  “Where were you last stationed in the army?” Beth asked, hating the silence that had descended.

  With his gaze fixed on the road ahead, Samuel said, “Leavenworth.”

  “Where the prison is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stuck in the middle of nowhere,” Jane offered from the back seat.

  “Were you ever stationed overseas?”

  “Germany and Japan, which gave us a chance to see that part of th
e world.”

  Thinking of all the places she would love to visit, Beth chanced a quick look toward Samuel. “That must have been interesting.”

  “If you could speak the language,” Jane said.

  Beth heard the pout in the teenager’s voice, but didn’t turn to look at her. She could imagine the crossed arms and defiant expression on the girl’s face, often a permanent part of her countenance. “True. That could be a problem, but they have such wonderful programs for teaching languages. I’ve been using a taped series to learn Spanish.”

  “I always tried to learn at least some of the language when we were stationed in a country. Japanese was hard, but I found German easy, especially to read.” Samuel shifted in his seat, taking his attention from the road. With a smile he asked, “Have you traveled much?”

  Beth shook her head. “But that’s about to change. My brother’s at college, so as of a week ago I have no one left at home.” Beth recalled the mixed emotions she had experienced when she had said goodbye to Daniel at school. Elation at the sense of freedom she now had mingled with sadness that he would be starting a part of his life without her.

  “Are you planning on going somewhere they speak Spanish?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know where yet. I’m going to spread a map of Central and South America out in front of me and throw a dart. I’m going where it lands.”

  Samuel chuckled. “An unusual method of planning a vacation.”

  “It won’t be a vacation. I want to live there, for a while at least.”

  “What about Brazil? That takes up a good portion of South America, and they speak Portuguese.”

  “I understand there are a lot of similarities between the two languages. If I end up in Brazil, it will just make the adventure even more exciting.”

  “So when are you going to throw that dart?”

  “Soon. I’m thinking of having a party and inviting all my friends to be there for the big moment.” Saying out loud what she had been toying with for the past few months made her firm the decision to have a party in celebration of a new phase in her life, even though she rarely threw parties.

  Beth pulled up in front of the rectory, a large two-story white Victorian house that sat next to the Sweetwater Community Church. “Tomorrow call Al’s Body Shop. He should be able to help you with your car. He’s a member of the church.”

  Jane threw open the back door and jumped out, hurrying toward the front door, her uncomfortable-looking high-heeled short boots sinking beneath the blanket of snow.

  Samuel observed his daughter for a few seconds, then turned to Beth. “Thanks for the ride. You’re a lifesaver. Are you sure you’ll be okay going home alone?”

  “I’ll be fine. I only live three blocks over. If it gets too bad, I can always walk and then call Al’s tomorrow myself.”

  “At least you’re more suitably dressed for a hike in the snow than my daughter. I’d better let you go.” He opened the door. “I’ll have a talk with Jane, and she’ll be there after school on Monday.”

  As he climbed from the Jeep, Beth said, “See you Sunday.”

  Samuel plodded toward the porch while Beth inched her car away from the curb. He was thankful she had been there to help them with a ride home. Just from the short time he had been around the woman he got the impression she went out of her way to assist people when she could. He liked that about her.

  Picturing Beth in his mind, he smiled. Her blue eyes had sparkled with kindness and her generous mouth had curved with a smile meant to put a person at ease. He imagined she had a hard time keeping her reddish-brown hair tamed and in control, but he liked it, because every other aspect of Miss Beth Coleman was restrained, down to her neat gray dress and matching pumps. She probably thought of her long curly hair as her bane, while he thought it softened her prim and proper facade.

  Taking one last look back, Samuel noticed the white Jeep quickly disappearing in the blowing snow. The bad weather had swept through so quickly that it had caught most people off guard. The only good thing about today was that Aunt Mae had arrived before the storm.

  When he entered his house, where boxes were still stacked all over the place, delicious aromas teased him, causing his stomach to rumble. At least now with Aunt Mae here, they would have a decent meal instead of his feeble attempts at cooking. There was even a chance that his house would come together before summer vacation.

  Shaking off the snow that still clung to him, he stomped his feet on the mat he was sure Aunt Mae had placed in front of the door, then shrugged out of his overcoat. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what his aunt was preparing for dinner. Onions. Garlic. Meat. Hoping it was her spaghetti, he headed toward the kitchen to see.

  “Dad.”

  Samuel stopped in the doorway into the den and peered over the mound of boxes to find his middle child on the floor with his bottom stuck up in the air while he tried to look under the couch. “Did you lose something, Craig?”

  His son straightened, one hand clutched around his Game Boy. “Allie is hiding things again. Can’t you do something about her?”

  “I’ll have a talk with her. How’s your room coming along?” Samuel asked, realizing his son must have gotten some of his things put away or the Game Boy wouldn’t be in his hand.

  Craig hopped to his feet. “I’m through.”

  “Good, son.” Samuel moved toward the kitchen, making a note to himself to check Craig’s room. His son’s version of clean was definitely not his.

  In the kitchen Samuel found his aunt by the stove adding something to a big pot while his youngest stood on a chair next to her and stirred whatever was cooking in the big pan. “Smells wonderful. Spaghetti?”

  Aunt Mae glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. That’s what Allie and Craig wanted. They said something about being tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

  “You know how hopeless I am in the kitchen.”

  She tsked. “Samuel, after over two years you’d think I would have rubbed off on you.”

  “Aunt Mae, don’t ever go away again,” Allie said in a serious voice while continuing to stir the sauce.

  His aunt, a woman who obviously loved her own cooking, tousled Allie’s hair. “Hopefully my sister won’t hurt herself again. I didn’t like being away from you all.”

  “Next time Aunt Kathy can come here instead of you going there.” Allie laid the spoon on the counter.

  Visions of Mae’s older sister living with them sent panic through Samuel. He started to say something about his eight-year-old daughter’s suggestion.

  Aunt Mae’s blue eyes twinkled and two dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Oh, sugar, that probably wouldn’t be too good of an idea. She’s very set in her ways. Besides, she was bedridden for a week and couldn’t travel.”

  “Well, we missed you.” Allie threw her arms around Aunt Mae.

  The older woman brushed back the few strands of gray hair that had come loose from her bun, fighting tears that had suddenly filled her eyes. “I missed you all.”

  “Is that coffee on the stove?” Samuel asked, feeling his own emotions close to the surface—which he attributed to his exhaustion. He walked to the counter where some cups were set out and retrieved one.

  As Samuel poured his coffee, he corralled his emotions and shoved them to the dark recesses of his mind. Aunt Mae had been a lifesaver after his wife died. When she had arrived on his doorstep, their lives had been in total chaos. Ruth’s death had hit him so hard that it had taken him months to see how much his children needed him. Thankfully Aunt Mae had been around to ease their sorrow, because he hadn’t been able to—something he still felt guilty about.

  “Was everything all right at school with Jane?” Aunt Mae asked, opening the refrigerator and taking out the ingredients for a salad.

  “Allie!” Craig’s voice echoed through the house.

  His youngest daughter jumped down from the chair, scooted it back toward the table, then darted out of the kitchen.

 
“No doubt she hid more than Craig’s Game Boy.” Samuel shook his head as he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. “Jane’s having trouble in English. I’m going to check on Monday to see how she’s doing in her other classes.” He took a long sip of his coffee, relishing the hot drink after being out in the cold.

  “She took her mother’s death harder than the other two.”

  “She was really close to Ruth.” He drank some more to ease the constriction in his throat.

  “Still, something else might be going on with her, Samuel. A good prayer might help.”

  There was a time he had felt that way. Now he didn’t know if that would help his daughter. He kissed his aunt on the cheek. “You have good intuition. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Shouts from above drew Samuel’s attention. “I’d better go and referee those two.”

  “Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  Samuel strode toward the stairs. He was the new minister of Sweetwater Community Church and he wasn’t even sure how effective prayer was. His house was still in chaos. He longed for the time he’d felt confident in the power of the Lord—before He had taken his wife and thrown his family into turmoil. He shouldn’t have taken this church assignment, but he was desperate. He wanted his old life back.

  Beth took a paper cup filled with red fruit punch from the table next to the coffee urn, then backed off to allow the other parishioners to get their refreshments after the late service. Standing along the wall where all the congregation’s photos hung, she watched Samuel greet each person as they came into the rec hall. Her throat parched, she drank half the juice in several swallows. Over the past few days she had thought about the man more than she should. He and Jane had even plagued her dreams last night.

  Jesse Blackburn approached with a cup of coffee. “So what do you think of our new minister?”

  “Interesting sermon on redemption.”

  “He’s a widower.”

  “Yes, I know and, Jesse, don’t you get any ideas. As they say in the movies, I’m blowing this town come summer.”

  Taking a sip of her coffee, Jesse stared at her over the rim of her cup. “You are?”