The Parson's Waiting

by Sherryl Woods

  He sighed. “Come to think of it, she might have,” he admitted. “Okay, who else?”

  “Hoyt Monroe has worked on a construction crew over in Charlottesville. And Nate Dorsey knows more about electricity than anyone in the whole valley. Nate said he’d bring along a friend who knows all about plumbing.”

  “Who’s going to supervise?”

  “I asked Billy Joe Hunt. He should be here any minute.”

  Richard went absolutely still. Anna Louise looked into his face and saw that his eyes were stone cold. “Do you have a problem with that?” she asked quietly.

  “I thought he’d be dead by now.”

  “Billy Joe?” she repeated, shocked by his icy tone.

  He shrugged. “The old coot deserved to die a long time ago.”

  Ted was listening to their exchange with an expression of growing alarm on his face. He looked as if he were ready to bolt. Anna Louise grabbed Richard’s hand and dragged him away.

  “Okay, why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

  “It’s past history, Anna Louise. Nothing for you to concern yourself about.”

  “If it’s past history, then why did you look that way when I mentioned the man’s name? Now you listen to me, Richard Walton. I don’t know what you have against Billy Joe Hunt, but you bury it for the next forty-eight hours. I will not have some silly old grudge interfering with our ability to get this recreation hall built this weekend. Am I making myself clear?”

  Something that might have been amusement flickered briefly in his eyes before he banked it. “You always do, Anna Louise. It must be nice to go through life with such clear-cut priorities.”

  With that, he turned his back on her and walked away.

  She stared after him. “Now what the dickens was that all about?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Richard rounded up Luke Hall and a few others and started work following the architect’s directions. By the time the sun was high in the sky, the sound of nails being pounded echoed over the valley. There was a steady, satisfying rhythm to the noise.

  The day once again had brought with it the warm temperatures of Indian summer. Sweat poured down his back and ran into his eyes as he worked. The hard labor kept him from thinking too much about Billy Joe Hunt, who had arrived a half hour before and started issuing orders like the controlling, domineering old coot he was.

  Even though Richard knew that a number of people who knew their history were watching to see what would happen between him and Billy Joe, Richard couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off the man. Billy Joe looked his age now, which had to be late fifties. He had a paunch from too much moonshine and too many barbecued ribs. His hair, which had gone gray over the past ten years, was clipped marine-cut short so that almost none showed beneath his baseball cap. His blustering, arrogant voice carried on the still morning air.

  Only once had Billy Joe looked over to where Richard worked. Their gazes had clashed for no more than a heartbeat, but Richard had felt old hatreds welling up inside him. Swinging his hammer with vengeful force, he had split the next piece of wood he’d tried to hammer into place.

  “Easy there,” Luke had called over to him, his expression sympathetic. “I know you and Billy Joe have some things to work out, but today’s not the time to go bringing it up. We’re here to do a job.”

  Luke’s placating tone irritated him. “You say it as if we squabbled over an old toy. Damn it, that man was single-handedly the cause of my mother’s death,” Richard blurted, his rage as fresh now as it had been some fifteen years earlier when he’d learned who’d been responsible for the cruel rumors that had destroyed his mother’s will to live. “You can’t honestly expect me to put that aside.”

  “Yes, I can,” Luke said stubbornly. “Just for today, Richard. We’ve all got to pull together. Everybody in town knows what kind of bully Billy Joe Hunt is. He has a wicked tongue and a hard heart, but he does know how to build just about anything. That’s why Anna Louise went to him. She knew we needed his expertise.”

  Richard didn’t want to hear what a paragon of building know-how Billy Joe was. “Too bad nobody seemed to recognize the rotten side of his nature fifteen years ago, when he made my mother the target,” he retorted bitterly.

  “There are a lot of people in Kiley who regret what happened back then. Many of them were too quick to judge Janie Walton.”

  “They believed a man like Billy Joe over her, just because he was a local boy and she was still considered an outsider even after living here for nearly fifteen years. My mother died because of the way she was shunned by everyone she’d thought of as friends and, not long after, my father gave up himself. It just took another two years for the depression to get so bad he killed himself.”

  He heard a sharply indrawn breath just then and looked around to see Anna Louise staring at him, an expression of horror on her face. Tears had welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “If I’d known, I would never have called on him to help.”

  Richard fought for control over his temper. He didn’t want to get into this with Anna Louise. He didn’t want a lecture on forgiveness. “Like Luke said, it was a long time ago,” he stated with cold matter-of-factness. “Let’s get this recreation hall built and I’ll deal with Billy Joe in my own way, in my own time.”

  “Please, tell me what happened,” she begged.

  He saw the compassion in her eyes, heard it in her voice, but he couldn’t speak. The ache in his chest hurt too badly. “Not now, Anna Louise,” he muttered gruffly. “Just keep him away from me.”

  * * *

  To Anna Louise’s relief there were no confrontations between Richard and Billy Joe Hunt the rest of the day. Apparently fully aware that he could be the cause of a quick explosion of Richard’s hair-trigger temper, Billy Joe had steered clear of him. Work on the recreation hall had proceeded at a brisk pace, with music blaring from radios and cheerful banter among the men.

  Still, Anna Louise had kept a wary eye on Richard, worrying herself sick about the anger and hatred she had heard in his voice and even more about the anguish she had seen in his eyes. How could he ever expect to find peace inside himself, if he couldn’t find forgiveness?

  At least she finally had some inkling about what had driven him away from Kiley. She might not know all the details, but she knew enough to guess that he’d blamed the whole town for the loss of his parents and that he held Billy Joe Hunt responsible for stirring up whatever had happened.

  When dusk fell, Richard was apparently the first to leave the building site. She looked everywhere for him as the others began making their way toward Tucker Patterson’s store where chili and sandwiches had been prepared for the workers.

  “Have you seen Richard?” she asked Luke Hall when he passed her on the road.

  “Look for him out by Willow Creek,” he suggested. “That’s where he always used to go when he was hurting. I doubt that’s changed.”

  Her heart heavy, Anna Louise walked up the hill to Maisey’s, bypassing the house as she made her way to the creek behind it. As much as she would have liked to have Maisey’s spin on things before she talked to Richard, Maisey had made it clear that any answers on this touchy subject would have to come from Richard himself.

  A full moon, rising fast, lit the way. A breeze had picked up, chasing away the last of the Indian summer warmth and replacing it with bitter cold. She pulled her jacket more tightly around her and wished she’d thought to stop for a heavier coat and a scarf. Whatever shift there was to be in the weather, she just hoped the rain or snow would hold off until they could finish getting the roof on the recreation hall on Sunday afternoon after church services.

  She found Richard sitting on the cold ground in the shadow of one of the willow trees, its branches bare now. “You’re going to catch your death of cold out here,” she said quietly.

  “It wouldn’t be much of a loss.”

  Anna Louise couldn’t believe what she was hearing, not the word
s or the flat tone that said he meant them. “Richard Walton, how dare you! That is a terrible thing to say.”

  “Don’t sound so shocked.”

  “I’m not shocked. I’m furious. I have never heard such hogwash coming from a supposedly intelligent man in my entire life.”

  “Are you saying you’d miss me, Anna Louise?”

  She heard the unexpected note of laughter and something more, the faint slurring that suggested the bottle in his hand wasn’t a soda as she had first assumed. “You’re drunk.” She was almost as astonished by that as she had been by his terrible claim that his life didn’t matter.

  “Not yet,” he said carefully, “but I’m working on it.”

  She stood over him, hands on hips, practically trembling with indignation. “Well, that certainly makes a lot of sense. But then again, I suppose that’s what I should have expected from a man who solves all of his problems by running away.”

  A hand shot up, caught hold of hers and yanked. Caught off guard, she tumbled straight into his lap. His breath was hot on her cheek when he asked in a lethal tone, “What do you mean by that?”

  She was too furious to be afraid. Only her good breeding and seminary training kept her from trying to pummel some sense into him.

  “Just what I said,” she retorted, looking him square in the eye. “You ran away from Kiley rather than dealing with whatever Billy Joe had done. You ran back here because you couldn’t face what was going on in all those trouble spots you’d been assigned to cover. You ran to Washington when you thought you and I might be getting too close. Now you’re running again, this time by staring into the bottom of a bottle. Haven’t you figured out by now that running doesn’t accomplish a blasted thing?”

  His lips twitched in what might have been an attempt at a smile. “What makes you think I went to Washington to get away from you?” he said, startling her by picking that of all the accusations she’d made.

  “I saw how you looked after you kissed me. It scared you, didn’t it, Mr. Hotshot Reporter? I know you did it on some kind of macho lark, but it didn’t turn out the way you expected, did it? You’re real brave when it comes to facing down some petty tyrant in a foreign land, but a small-town preacher scares you to death.”

  He didn’t respond, but his hands circled her waist and tried to pin her in place. When she tried to wriggle free, he muttered, “Blast it, woman, would you hold still?”

  “I will not,” she snapped back.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re prepared to deal with the consequences,” he taunted in a low, dry tone. The steely glint in his eyes told her that he was a heartbeat away from kissing her again. And this time he might throw all concerns for propriety right out the window.

  Anna Louise froze right where she was, afraid to move a muscle. She’d meant to taunt him out of his dark mood, not to provoke him into a seduction. She had to admit, though, that she was fascinated by the discovery that she could have that effect on him. No wonder Jeremy and Maribeth had such difficulty with the concept of chastity, if this was the temptation they faced.

  Nothing in her entire previous experience had prepared her for the way she felt. In high school and college she’d been single-minded about meeting her goal of becoming a pastor. If men had been attracted to her, she’d been blind to it. And even though she’d been surrounded by men in seminary, she’d been more interested in proving something to them than dating them. It was far different with Richard. Before, she’d always felt contented. Since he’d come into her world, she’d felt alive.

  “Let me go, you cretin. You’re not getting out of a discussion of your cowardly behavior by trying to intimidate me.” To her chagrin, she was reacting exactly the way she’d just accused Richard of behaving. She was running scared.

  Richard smirked, but he did release her. Anna Louise scrambled to her feet and stood a few careful feet away. “Well?” she prodded.

  “Well, what?”

  “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Nothing.”

  She stared at him. How could a person carry on a decent argument, if the other person refused to fight back? “Nothing? You have to say something.”

  “Why?” he inquired, his tone suddenly extraordinarily reasonable.

  Anna Louise again had an intense desire to smack him. What on earth was happening to her? She was a peaceful woman, not a brawler. “You are the most infuriating man it has ever been my misfortune to meet, Richard Walton.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “You don’t have to sound so darned pleased about it.”

  “Anna Louise, has it occurred to you that this conversation is moving in circles? Frankly, it’s making me dizzy.”

  “That’s not the conversation, it’s the liquor,” she snapped back. “If you’d throw away that bottle, we could have a serious talk.” She made a grab for the bottle, but he held it out of reach.

  “Exactly what would you like to talk about?”

  “I want to know what happened here fifteen years ago.”

  “Now that,” he said softly, but emphatically, “is something I don’t intend to discuss.”

  “Coward,” she accused.

  “You keep calling me that, sweetheart. It’s beginning to lose its effectiveness.”

  Anna Louise sighed. “Can’t you see I just want to help?”

  “I don’t doubt it for a minute, but this is way beyond something you can fix with a sympathetic ear and a gentle touch. Not everything in life can be fixed, Anna Louise. Now that’s the gospel truth.”

  “I don’t believe that. I think prayer can help a person to heal, if only they’ll listen to God’s answers.”

  “Do you think I haven’t prayed about this, Pastor Perkins?” he taunted, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Do you think when I was fourteen years old and my sad, lonely mama was wandering around in a blizzard because she didn’t have a single friend in this terrible place, do you think I didn’t pray then? Do you think I didn’t get on my knees and pray when she was in her bed dying of pneumonia? Well, let me correct that impression. I got on my knees and I said every prayer I’d been taught from the day I was born,” he said angrily.

  “My daddy prayed. Maisey prayed. And do you know what happened, Pastor Perkins? She died, anyway. That sweet, gentle woman, who’d never done anybody any harm, died, and all because Billy Joe Hunt made it his personal quest to destroy her with his lies and innuendos about her past. She couldn’t face the humiliation and she wasn’t strong enough to fight back.”

  Anna Louise felt the force of his fury and wanted desperately to comfort him. But comfort wasn’t what he needed now. He needed to tear open this festering wound, to get out all of the hurt and anguish that were killing him bit by bit, and find his own path to forgiveness. She could only guide him along the way.

  “What was it Billy Joe did?”

  “He told people...” For a minute it didn’t seem as if he would say any more, but he finally went on. “He told people a lot of nonsense about the way she’d been living over in Charlottesville before she and my daddy met.”

  “Was it true?”

  “Does that really matter? Whatever had gone on had been over with for fifteen years. How Billy Joe dug up his little half-truths and lies about her living with some professor, I can’t imagine. But I don’t care if she’d been the worst prostitute in history—which she hadn’t been, by the way. She deserved the chance to put the past behind her. He had to go dragging it all up, implying that she’d slept with half the damned campus, humiliating her, making her feel unwelcome everywhere.” Richard glared up at her. “Even in your blessed church.”

  Anna Louise recalled that the previous preacher, Pastor Flynn, had had a reputation for being rigid and cold. She’d had no idea how hard-hearted he’d actually been. If he had actually driven away Richard’s mother, then his sin was far worse than any Janie Walton might have committed.

  “That was wrong,” she said quietly.

  “Y
ou’re damned right, it was wrong. What Billy Joe did was wrong. Half the people in this town were wrong for following his lead.”

  “Does knowing that help?” she asked quietly.

  He shot a startled look up at her. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a simple question. I’m asking if it makes you feel better to hold them all responsible for your mother’s death. Does hating them all give you any satisfaction?”

  “Yes,” he said fiercely. Then he released a deep sigh. “No. No, it doesn’t help at all.”

  She knelt down beside him, mindless of the cold, hard ground. She rested her hand against his cheek, which was damp with the silent tears she hadn’t even been aware he’d shed. “Then isn’t it time to let it go?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He met her gaze, his expression black. “Because if I do, I’ll have nothing left.”

  Anna Louise felt her own tears spill down her cheeks. “That’s not true. It’s not. You have Maisey.” She drew in a deep breath. “And you have me.”

  His gaze met hers, his eyes dark with heartache and need. With a groan, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight against his chest. Slowly he rocked back and forth, as if in the rhythm and closeness he could find the solace he desperately needed. Anna Louise twined her arms around his neck and held on tight, afraid to let go for fear of losing him forever.

  They were still sitting just that way when the first flakes of snow began to fall, melting against their skin. Anna Louise lifted her head in wonder.

  “The first snowfall,” she whispered. “It’s always the most beautiful.”

  Richard’s low chuckle was the first sign she’d had that his mood had finally shifted. “Anna Louise, is there anything in life you don’t view as a blessing?”

  “I’m not overly fond of asparagus,” she responded, just to see the grin on his face broaden.

  “Oh, Anna Louise, you are a treasure,” he said, laughing.

  * * *

  Anna Louise realized a few weeks later that that intimate moment she had shared with Richard wasn’t the beginning she had hoped it might be. His pattern was too well established. After losing both his parents during his teens, he had never allowed another soul to get too close. He’d even run as far as he could from Maisey. Maybe, though, his coming home when she needed him was the first step in his recovery. Facing down the demon of Billy Joe Hunt and his awful lies might be the next.