Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3)

by Patrick E. Craig

I wonder if Jeremy is still carrying a torch for me. I hope not. I certainly don’t want to stir all that up again.

  The book came out in the spring of 1986. Within a few months it was wending its way up some regional best seller lists. The manager of the Christian bookstore in Lancaster displayed it and reported steady sales. The Amish and their separated lifestyle definitely piqued the interest of readers. Jenny started getting more letters from people here and there around the country who wanted to know about the Amish, and she was in awe at the positive response to her book.

  Then one night, when things seemed to be going well with the book, there was a knock on Jenny’s door. When she opened it, there were three elders from the local congregation on her doorstep. Jenny could not read the expressions on their faces, but a little warning leapt up in her heart.

  The lead elder spoke up. “Jenny, we need to talk to you about your writing. It seems to be stirring up some amount of…interest among the members of the local district, and we wanted to discuss the matter with you.”

  Jenny nodded and invited them in. The three men filed past her into the house. Jenny had a sense of déjà vu—she had been through this before. And she didn’t feel very good about the prospect of going through it again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Songs from the Heart

  RICHARD SANDBRIDGE HEARD THE BUZZER on his intercom, but he didn’t answer it. Instead he continued to strum his guitar. The song idea had been eluding him for days, and he was determined to capture it this time around. The intercom buzzed again. With a sigh, Richard put down his guitar and pressed the intercom button.

  “Yes, Deborah, what is it?”

  “Sam Westerbrook from Cross & Crowne is on the phone. He wants to talk to you about getting in the studio again. Says his guys are ready for another big hit.”

  “Okay, Deb, I’ll take it. Thanks.”

  Richard switched to line one. “Richard Sandbridge.”

  “Yeah, Richard, this is Sam Westerbrook. How are you?”

  “If I was any more blessed, I’d be twins,” Richard said.

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry, Sam. It’s a joke.”

  “Uh…okay, whatever. Say, Richard, do you have any new songs for us? The guys are pretty tired of playing “Crown of Thorns” for the thousandth time. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a wonderful song and the kids really dig it, but I’d like to have something new and fresh out there. Got anything for us?”

  Richard started looking for some dates on his desk calendar as he held the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

  “What about the guys in the group? I thought they wanted to write their own songs.”

  Sam grunted on the other end of the line. “Yeah, well, it’s one thing to say and another to do. The new girl singer we got has a few interesting things going on, but nothing like your songs, Ricky.”

  “Sam, don’t call me Ricky, okay?”

  “Yeah, whatever, Richaaard.”

  “Thanks, Sam. Appreciate it.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Do you have some songs for us so can we get back in the studio?”

  “Okay, Sam. I’ve got one.”

  “Yeah! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Can I bring Gary over this afternoon?”

  “Sure, but why don’t you bring the girl, too…what’s her name?”

  “Nadine. Nadine Carbone. Why should I bring her?”

  “Look, Sam. Here’s the deal. If I write all the songs for you guys, I make all the money. Your guys get performance royalties and gig money. That’s it. The big money is in publishing. If I’m providing the songs, you, as manager, are seeing bubkes, nothing, nada. Someone in the group needs to start writing the songs, or you stay a high-level cover band for the rest of your life. You get my drift?”

  There was a momentary silence at the other end of the line.

  “How much did you make off ‘Crown of Thorns,’ Richard?”

  “I’m not going to tell you the exact number, Sam, but it’s in six figures. You go ahead and figure out what twenty percent of that is.”

  There was a whistle on the other end of the line. “Okay, Mister Sandbridge, I get your drift. I’m bringing the girl too.”

  “Around four, Sam.”

  “You got it.”

  Richard Sandbridge hung up the phone. He sighed and looked around. Several gold and platinum records hung on the walls of his upscale penthouse office. Each record on the wall represented lots of money and prestige. His songs had been recorded by big-name artists—country, rock, R&B—and now by a big-name Christian rock group.

  Christian rock! Now there’s an oxymoron.

  When Richard became a Christian, he was already a highly successful songwriter. Three gold records were on his wall, and his two biggest hits, Tonight and Anna, had gone multi-platinum, recorded by the R&B group Soul Circle in 1981. Now, a decade later, he had three more platinum hits, the latest with the crossover Christian group Cross & Crowne. Billy Cross and Gary Crowne had played on the combination of their names to find a modicum of success in the Christian market. But it wasn’t until Richard gave them Turn to Me and Crown of Thorns that they achieved their greatest success.

  Richard picked up his guitar again, smiled to himself, and thought, I guess I’ll see if I can write another big hit before they get here.

  At four o’clock, Sam, Gary, and the new girl walked into Richard’s office. He had just finished putting the final touches on the elusive new song. Gary Crowne looked around Richard’s office the way he did every time he came by, obviously in awe of the symbols of Richard’s success. The girl singer looked like she was all flash and no content. She had the band-girl look and a prominent tattoo on her shoulder.

  “Hi, Richard.”

  “Hey, Gary. How’s it going?”

  “Great, Richard, just great—thanks to you. This is our new singer, Nadine Carbone.”

  She reached out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Sandbridge. I’m a big fan.”

  “You can call me Richard if I can call you Nadine.”

  “Okay, Richard. But my friends call me Deeny.”

  She smiled, and Richard caught just a hint from her eyes that there might be something in there besides a vacuum.

  Gary nodded at his manager. “Sam says you might have something for us to record. Can’t wait to hear it.”

  “Yeah, I just finished something you guys might like. But I thought you were going to start writing some of your own stuff.”

  “I’ve been trying, but I haven’t really come up with anything.”

  The girl piped up. “I have a couple of songs, Mr. Sandbridge…I mean, Richard. I’d like to show them to you.”

  Richard heard something in her voice that got his attention—ambition, a flash of intelligence.

  Sam and Gary both scowled.

  “Let’s hear something.”

  “Sure,” Deeny said. “Do you have a keyboard?”

  Richard pointed to a corner where his mini-studio and a nice little Yamaha electric piano were set up.

  “Help yourself.”

  Deeny sat down at the keyboard and started to play. She was nervous and flubbed the first chord. She stopped, looked up, smiled, and started again. This time she started smoothly.

  Your love is wonderful

  So pure and clean

  Flowing down from Calvary

  To a sinner like me

  And Your blood is wonderful

  So pure and clean

  Flowing down from Calvary

  To a sinner like me

  And now I am free

  Thank You, Jesus, thank You, Jesus

  For all You are to me

  You’re my life, my hope

  You’re my one desire

  Thank You, Lord, for dying for me

  Deeny’s voice was clear and sweet, and once she got into the song, it was apparent to everyone that she was singing from her heart. Richard’s first impressio
n of her went out the window as he listened to the song. When she finished there was a quiet moment. Then Sam jumped in.

  “Yeah, great voice, kid, but it’s a little too religious for me. Got anything like You Light Up My Life? You know, something that people could put in their boyfriend’s name in place of Jesus?”

  Deeny scowled. “Right! Like “You Light Up My Life, Elmer”?

  “I think Deeny’s got a great song,” Richard said. “I don’t know if it would be the single from the album, but any real Christian would end up listening to it over and over. And by the way, Sam, you guys are signed to a Christian record company, remember? If you want to do secular music, maybe you should go hit up Warner Brothers.”

  “Whoa, Richard,” Sam said. “We’re very happy right where we are! I mean, we’re all Christians and we all love the Lord, right? I’m just looking for the breakthrough song that’s going to put us on top, that’s all. Just lookin’ out for my guys.”

  Deeny stared at him, and he got the message. “Uh, my gal too. So Richard, you said you had a new song?”

  Just then the intercom buzzed. Richard flipped the switch. “Yes, Deborah?”

  “Jeremy King on line one.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Richard turned to the group. “I have to take this call. Give me five minutes and I’ll be right back.”

  Richard left his office and went to the conference room across the hall. The red light on the phone was flashing, and he picked it up.

  “Hey, Jeremy. Thanks for getting back to me.”

  “Sure, Mr. Sandbridge.”

  “It’s Richard. Listen, we’ve been watching Kerusso Publishing, and you folks are really starting to make a mark in the Christian publishing arena. I’d like to get together with you and talk about some ideas we’ve been throwing around over here at Charis Records.”

  “Well, I’m flattered that you’ve heard about us, Richard. I’d love to chat. When do you want to meet?”

  “How about next Monday? Can you drive over to New York on Sunday? We’ll put you up, and then we could spend Monday together.”

  “Sure, that sounds good. Can you tell me what it’s about?”

  “We’ll talk about that when you get here. I’ve got to get back to a meeting. In the meantime, I’m going to give you back to Deborah. Give her a timeline that would work for you, and she’ll book the hotel room. See you on Monday.”

  “Sure…Richard. See you then.”

  Richard hung up the phone with a smile of satisfaction on his face. If everything worked out, the Jeremy King deal could be a blockbuster.

  Jeremy leaned back in his chair. The call from Richard Sandbridge had him wondering what was up. Charis Records was a big deal in Christian circles. They had three number one hits on the Christian charts, and one was starting to see action on secular radio stations in the Midwest. Richard Sandbridge was an enigma to everyone. He had literally come out of nowhere with his hit song Tonight in 1981. The song was huge, and Sandbridge had followed it with another monster hit. Along the way he had proven his skills as a musician and had produced a few independent hits for some major labels. Then had come his highly publicized conversion to Christianity and his move to Charis Records. As head of artists and repertoire, he had discovered Cross & Crowne, and the rest was history.

  Jeremy walked out to the front office. The move back to Lancaster from Akron five years earlier had taken a toll on his business, but for the past three years sales had headed back up. The offices were a bit run-down, but he was publishing new books almost every month and was satisfied that he had made the right move, especially since interest in everything Amish was growing.

  His secretary looked up when he walked out.

  “Judy, can you call Charis Records back and coordinate with Deborah there on a hotel? I need to drive to New York on Sunday, and Charis is putting me up.”

  “Sure, Jeremy. What’s up?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s big. Charis Records is leading the way in Christian music. It will definitely be an interesting trip.”

  When Richard walked back into his office, a heated discussion was going on. It seemed to be Sam and Gary against Deeny.

  “I’m a Christian,” Deeny was saying. “I got saved out of a life that was killing me. Now I just want to glorify God and sing His praise. I’m not really interested in going back into secular music. I spent too many nights in bars and dance halls, hanging out with the wrong people. I don’t want to go back.”

  “We’re not saying we should go secular, Deeny,” Gary said. “Maybe just lighten up on the real heavy religious stuff. I mean, after all, we don’t want to offend anybody.”

  Deeny stiffened. “The gospel is an offense. It makes people confront their sin, and most of them don’t want to do that, so they find the whole thing offensive. But if we’re Christians, we have a responsibility to tell them the truth. No apologies, no surrender.”

  Sam shook his head. “I don’t know, Deeny. Maybe you’re just a little too radical for Cross & Crowne.”

  “I’d rethink that, Sam,” Richard said. “Deeny will add a great sound to Gary and Billy’s voices. Take it from me as your producer, if you want to go all the way, this young lady could be the missing piece.”

  Gary and Sam looked skeptical but quieted down. Sam spoke up.

  “So…the new song?”

  Richard picked up his twelve string. “Right. I’ve been working on it for two weeks and just got the bridge today.”

  As Richard began to sing, he could see Deeny’s eyes light up with admiration. Gary and Sam looked at him as if he were some kind of saint. Richard wondered what he was doing in a Christian business that did everything it could to keep its eyes on men and not on Jesus.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Big Business

  RICHARD SANDBRIDGE WALKED INTO THE Waldorf Astoria Hotel in uptown Manhattan. The place was definitely five-star all the way. Richard liked the older-style hotels—something in the connection to the past intrigued him. He went to the front desk and asked for Jeremy King. The attractive young woman behind the counter smiled at him.

  “Mr. King is waiting for you in the restaurant, Mr. Sandbridge. The table against the wall, right inside the door.”

  She smiled again, this time more seductively. Richard noticed that she had a wedding band on her left hand.

  “I’m a big fan, Mr. Sandbridge,” she continued. “I think you write the most beautiful songs.”

  “Thank you. That’s very encouraging.”

  He walked away without looking back and entered the restaurant. The place was empty except for a blond man sitting where the receptionist had said he would be. Jeremy King.

  As Richard walked up, Jeremy put down the menu he was perusing, stood up, and stuck out his hand.

  “Mr. Sandbridge, I presume. Jeremy King.”

  “Please, call me Richard,” he said, sliding into the seat across from Jeremy. “What looks good today?”

  “There’s a hot roast beef sandwich au jus that sounds interesting, along with the usual assortment of lunch items.”

  The waitress came and took their drink orders. Richard was glad to see that Jeremy ordered ice tea. So many Christians I go out to eat with are half in the bag by the time lunch is over. This guy is a nice change.

  They exchanged the usual pleasantries about the drive over and how Jeremy liked his room, and then Richard got down to business.

  “As you may know, Jeremy, Charis Records has grown a lot in the past few years.”

  “That’s for sure. Three monster hit records, the top Christian band in the country, and the hottest new writer-producer. You folks are what’s happening right now.”

  “Yes we are, and we want to keep it that way. We’ve been looking at the market, and we—the board of directors and myself—have come to the conclusion that we need to be doing more than just selling records, cassettes, and compact discs. But let’s not talk music, Jeremy. I came to
talk to you about something else.”

  “Yes, I’ve been wondering about that.”

  Just then the waitress approached and asked if they were ready to order. She also had a record album with her—The Best of Soul Circle—and wasted no time. “Gee, Mr. Sandbridge, would you mind signing this for me? I just love ‘Tonight.’ I think it’s the most beautiful song ever written.”

  Richard smiled at her “How did you know it’s my song?”

  “This is New York, Mr. Sandbridge. Every person you see working in a restaurant is probably in show business in one form or another. I happen to be a Christian singer-songwriter. I have all the records with your songs on them. You’re bigger than Burt Bacharach.”

  “Well, thanks. That’s most complimentary. So you’re a songwriter. Got any good tunes?”

  “I think so.”

  Richard pulled out a card. “Send me a cassette of your two best, along with an envelope with a return address. I’ll give you my honest opinion. Hope that helps.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mr. Sandbridge!”

  The waitress started to walk away with the card clutched in her hand.

  “Miss?”

  She turned back to them. “Yes, Mr. Sandbridge?”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  The girl blushed and pulled her pad out of her apron. Jeremy and Richard both smiled as she stammered out the specials of the day. She took their order and left. Richard watched her go with a sad smile.

  “The truth is I probably won’t be able to listen to more than about thirty seconds of her songs, but you never know. Every once in a while you find something. There are so many young people here wanting to live the dream. If they only knew how hard it is.”

  “You didn’t seem to have any trouble making it, Richard.”

  “You know, Jeremy, that’s true. I don’t really understand my success except that it’s totally from the Lord. Someday, when we have time, I’ll tell you my story. But today I want to talk about you.”

  Richard took a sip of water and then continued. “Let me just lay it on the table. We want to buy Kerusso Publishing and merge it with Charis Records.”

  Jeremy, clearly surprised at the idea, started to speak, but Richard pressed on. “Before you respond, let me finish. We want you too, Jeremy. Kerusso Publishing would become the literary arm of an umbrella corporation, with Charis Records as the music side. You would continue to run Kerusso just as you have been. You would receive cash and stock in the mother corporation in return for your company, and we would pay you a very competitive salary. In return, you keep publishing—not only the Amish material you’ve been working on but also standard Christian fiction and nonfiction books. We think we could attract some of the big-name Christian authors and teachers to our stable of writers. You would have your pick of great books to produce…I mean, publish.”