by Delia Latham
She lifted one shoulder and opened her mouth to say yes, that’s pretty much what she thought. But then an image of sapphire eyes and thick, unruly black hair flashed through her mind. Winter squeezed her eyes shut against Brady’s face, only to find Julia Rafferty’s gray eyes and sweet smile projected on the backs of her eyelids.
She and Kai had both found something in this seaside community that made them want to stick around a while. If the plane now lying in pieces around her had not malfunctioned…had it not fallen from the sky right where it had, she most likely would’ve never met Brady. Kai—sweet, shy Kai—would not have met Julia, with whom he’d been so smitten that he’d ventured out of his shell to make sure she noticed him, even before he left the hospital.
Brady and Julia aside, if the plane had gone down anywhere but here, she and her twin would almost certainly have been killed.
She shook her head, not sure how to deal with this kind of thinking. Was she really entertaining the idea that the crash and everything that followed it was all a part of some Divine plan?
“To everything there is a season,” Miss Angie murmured. “And a time to every purpose under the heavens.”
“Do you really believe that, Miss Angie?” Winter brushed at her leaky eyes.
“Oh, my dear…I never doubt God’s Word.”
Of course not. Everyone in the woman’s circle of friends seemed convinced the Bible was utter truth, that God was real, that He cared for each of them and had a master plan for their lives.
How comforting it must be to truly believe Someone, somewhere, loved every individual with a pure, undying love. Winter yearned for that comfort…for the ability to believe, to trust that He had her back, no matter the circumstances. “I wish—” She broke off, not sure what to say. “Miss Angie, you’re so peaceful. Brady has that same aura of quiet calm and a steady confidence that God is real and loves every one of us. I wish I knew how to…” She lowered her eyelashes, embarrassed by her inability to articulate her feelings. “I’d love to have what you have. And Brady. Actually, everyone I’ve met since I arrived radiates that same inner joy.”
Miss Angie wrapped both arms around Winter and pulled her close. “God brings peace to the hearts of His people, no matter what’s going on in the world around them. If you want that same joy your new friends wear with such grace, you can have it, dear. Christ is standing by, waiting for you to invite Him in.” She stepped back and looked straight into Winter’s heart. “There’s no ritual involved, no secret rite of passage. Just choose to believe that He is. Believe that He died for your salvation and then rose again on the third day. He still lives, sweet child. The peace that you’ve seen in Brady and me, and in our friends here in Cambria…that’s Jesus in our hearts. He is the Bringer of Peace.”
“I have so much to learn.” Tears burned her eyes and trickled down her face. “But when I look at what’s left of this airplane, it’s hard not to believe there’s a higher Power, and that—for whatever reason—He chose to save my brother and me. I want to know Him, Miss Angie. I want to find the peace I see in all of you…but I don’t know how.”
“Oh, sweet child!” Miss Angie gave her a final, gentle squeeze and backed away.
Winter looked up, drawn by something in the older woman’s voice. She gasped, and both hands flew to her face.
Vivid blue eyes glowed golden. A bright white aura surrounded the lodge hostess’s slender form. And, for a second or two, didn’t a pair of wings hover in suspended motion behind the shining figure? The glow, the aura, the wings…there for a moment, and then gone. Surely she hadn’t imagined them. They’d been so real, a breathtaking flash of glorious, angelic beauty.
But then Miss Angie wrapped Winter’s fingers in her own, and she was, after all, only flesh and blood.
A twig snapped in the trees. Winter glanced around the glade, her heart lodged in her throat, until Raine stepped into the open.
“Hi! Kai told me the two of you were taking a walk on the grounds, and I had a feeling I’d find you here.”
Miss Angie smiled, and her soft laughter soothed Winter’s tight nerves. She wanted to laugh along and confess to being delusional.
“I won’t ask how going for a walk on the grounds equals standing in this clearing, but I’m glad you’re here, Raine. Our lovely newscaster is ready to give her heart to the Lord. Come pray with us.”
Pure delight shone from Raine’s eyes. “Oh, Winter! I’m so happy I could dance a jig right here in Miss Angie’s prayer room.”
“Her prayer room?”
“Why would you say such a thing?” Miss Angie asked, but the twinkle in her eyes told its own tale.
“I think you know.” Raine stepped close and hugged the older woman. “While I was a guest at Paradise Pines, I saw you praying here one late afternoon.”
“Yes, dear. I know. I wondered if you’d ever mention it.”
“The time was never quite right, I guess. Tonight, it feels right.”
“God’s timing, dear. Yes, I do love to pray in this pretty place.” Miss Angie swept her gaze around the glade.
Apparently picking up on Winter’s confusion, Raine touched her arm. “Remind me to tell you about it sometime.” With the words barely spoken, her full lips formed a perfect O. Wide blue-gray eyes roamed the clearing, studying the scattered pieces of the puddle jumper. “Your prayers—they sanctified this place, Miss Angie. Maybe that’s why Winter and Kai came through that awful crash with such minimal injury.” She crossed her arms and shivered, her gaze fixed on the mangled plane parts. “I mean, seriously…look at this wreckage!”
Winter nodded. “We discussed that. Miss Angie said God has work for us to do. I don’t really know what that means, but I want to. I’d love to know Him the way you do, Raine.”
Her friend heaved a sigh, gave a final rueful shake of her head and one last glance at all the mangled metal in the clearing. Then her rigid posture relaxed. She gave Winter a quick hug and then took her hand on one side, Miss Angie’s on the other. “Then, come with me. I’ll introduce you to my Father.” She lifted one dark eyebrow. “Shall I talk with Him first, and you repeat after me? Or you can just say whatever you’d like. He won’t be interested in whether or not you pray a pretty prayer, or say the right words, or use perfect grammar.”
Winter glanced down, but this wasn’t a time for shame or guilt. Miss Angie said there was a time for everything, and Winter felt in her soul that this day and in this place, it was time for her to meet God. But she didn’t know to pray.
“I’d like you to guide me through, Raine. Please.” She bit her lip and nodded. “I’ll learn to pray—I want to. But I don’t know how just yet.”
“No worries. Let’s do it.”
They bowed their heads, and Raine brought Winter before the Father’s throne. She prayed a simple prayer of repentance, and Winter repeated every word. By the time they all said the final “amen,” tears streaked Winter’s face—liquid joy that bubbled up in her soul and overflowed through her eyes. Peace unlike anything she’d ever experienced filled her heart.
Miss Angie drew both of the younger women into a hug. “Oh, what a celebration they’re having in Heaven! Winter, dear…your name is known to the Father, and the angels rejoice because another soul is saved.”
Winter took a step back and swiped at her damp eyes. “You think Heaven is celebrating over me? Oh, no, Miss Angie…I’m not worthy.”
Raine laughed softly, and Miss Angie’s lips curved into the most beautiful smile. “None of us are, dear child. But read Luke chapter 15 when you can. I tell you, the heavens rejoice over you today.” She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky. “I can almost hear them lifting their voices in praise, celebrating salvation—your salvation, Winter. What a lovely song they sing!”
Winter couldn’t speak.
Miss Angie’s uplifted face shone, as if she really could… Could she hear the angels singing and praising?
She glanced at Raine and found her friend als
o mesmerized by Miss Angie. Then, as though she heard Winter’s questions in her soul, Raine turned her head, smiled…and then nodded.
Winter didn’t question what the nod was about. She knew.
Raine believed Miss Angie was peering through the windows of Heaven, seeing the splendor, and yes…listening to the angels’ song.
Winter believed it too. If her Father could save the unsaveable sinner she’d been until moments ago, then she could believe the unbelievable.
16
“Hey, Brady! Alan Durbin here. Got a minute?”
Alone in his office, Brady raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t had so much as a chance encounter with the Baptist pastor for at least a year. Why would he be calling now?
“Of course, Alan. I hope all is well. You keeping the good folks at Calvary Baptist in line? Or is it the other way around?” He chuckled into the phone. “On this end of the village it’s a toss-up at any given time.”
“The church is truckin’ along as usual. Pretty much the same congregation I had last time we spoke. Sure could use a revival. I don’t think we’ve even had a visitor in months. The enemy’s fighting for souls as hard as we are.”
“I hear you. Trust me, friend, the need for a refreshing is widespread. We could do with an outpouring at Cambria House of Praise, as well.” He settled further into his leather chair—the sole concession to comfort he’d allowed in his barebones office. “So what can I do for you? You didn’t call to hear my pretty voice.”
Alan laughed. “You’re right, I didn’t, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea. We should stay in better touch. We may not see eye to eye on doctrine, but we’re both serving the same God, and trying to save souls for the same Kingdom.”
“Agreed. Maybe we can get all the local ministers together. Form some kind of minister’s alliance.” Brady blinked. Where had that come from? He’d never even considered such a thing, and hadn’t known he would suggest it until the words spilled from his lips. God, I’m all for following Your lead, but a little heads-up when You plan to tug pretty hard on the reins would be nice…
“Great idea! I’d love to see that happen.”
Something in Alan’s voice told Brady the man needed encouragement. Who better to lift up and encourage a pastor than another pastor? Maybe the idea God spurted from Brady’s mouth should be put into action. “Then we’ll make it happen. Why don’t you drop in over here one day this week? We’ll borrow some coffee from the Chrysalis kitchen and have a chat.”
“I’ll do it, Brady. I’ll call before I come.” He paused and cleared his throat.
Brady tensed. That didn’t sound like anything good was about to be said.
“Listen, I got a phone call a few minutes ago that felt a little weird. Some journalist from that news channel in Cornelius Cove. A woman. You haven’t heard from her, have you?”
Brady’s heart skipped a beat or two. “Can’t say I’ve seen any news hounds poking around over here. Why? What did she want?”
“You would’ve been pretty young at the time, but are you familiar with Rory Cope Ministries? They were one of the biggies for a long time, but eventually they went the way of so many celebrity ministers. This would’ve been…oh, I don’t know, maybe ten, twelve years back.”
Thirteen, to be exact. “Sure, I remember them.” He forced a bit of laughter and hoped it didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “I was young but not that young.”
“OK, well…do you remember the young man who traveled with Cope during the last few years of his work? Kid’s name was Ethan Miracle. Preached like a house afire!”
Pain—and panic—lanced through Brady’s heart. He closed his eyes against images he thought he’d eradicated years ago. “I remember him, but come on…as you said, it’s been a long time. Was he the reason for the call from Cornelius Cove?”
“Oh, the woman who called me is from Cornelius Cove, but at the moment, she’s here—in Cambria. You know who I’m talking about. Does the human interest stuff at KCCN. Calls herself Winter Wonder, though I can’t believe she was born with a name like that.” He chuckled. “Anyway, someone tipped them off that Miracle might be living here in our little village.”
Brady forced a laugh that came out sharp and brittle. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. The lady was pleasant, but boy, was she ever determined! Had a whole truckload of questions. By the time she was through with me, I was starting to think maybe I am Ethan Miracle and just don’t know it.” He laughed—a short, dry bark. “Man, those people can be tenacious!”
“Yeah, I know.” A pain shot through Brady’s jaw when he clenched his teeth. “They’re relentless.”
“I hear that. Anyway, I wondered if you’d heard from her already, and thought I’d give you a heads-up in case you hadn’t.”
“I appreciate the thought.” Brady forced himself to remain pleasant. He couldn’t show any over-reaction to Alan’s news. “And don’t forget to come by. Let’s talk about that minister’s alliance. To be honest, such a thing never even occurred to me before, but I think God planted it in our minds today. It’s up to us to make it happen.”
“Then we will. I’ll see you one day this week.”
Brady sat in silence after the call. So someone had recognized him and tipped off the press. He’d known it could happen at any time, but as he got older and looked less like the kid he’d once been, the chance of being recognized by his face alone had seemed less likely. Yet, here he sat, staring at the end of his quiet existence in a place he’d come to love.
What would his congregation think, when the truth was revealed? Would they be convinced he’d known about Rory’s secret life, even as he stood behind the Cope pulpit and preached with the enthusiasm of youth—and, as it turned out, innocence?
He’d been too innocent, too trusting. Life and experience hadn’t yet taught him that no man is infallible. The pain of having those blinders ripped off and thrown in the dust had seared the lesson into his soul, never to be forgotten. But the gut-wrenching guilt was the heaviest burden Brady carried away from that life. Rory had used him to bring in a fresh, young audience…and from that innocent crowd, he’d found merchandise to sell into manual and sexual slavery.
Before Brady’d even had a chance to process the shock of watching his idol fall, the media swept in like a flock of hungry vultures. Thirteen years after the fact, his soul still bore scars where they’d ripped and torn pieces of him away, swallowing large chunks of his heart and soul down greedy gullets, hot with the fire of a potential sidebar to Cope’s story.
Sitting in the office he’d called his own for half a decade, Brady sighed. He needed to prepare for the coming onslaught of renewed interest. Winter wouldn’t stop searching until she uncovered everything he’d hidden from the world. She was good at what she did.
And clearly, she was a top-notch actress as well. If journalism didn’t make her a star, she could always make it big in Hollywood. He’d fallen hard and fast and given her an open door to his world. If she’d sought details on Ethan Miracle’s life after Cope Ministries, he’d made it easy for her.
Brady’s stomach lurched in protest. He closed his eyes and concentrated on taking in slow, deep breaths. When he could breathe without choking on air, he forced himself to face the distinct possibility that none of the moments they’d shared had been real. The thought soured his stomach and wrapped cruel fingers of pain around his heart.
He bounded out of the leather chair and strode to the door. Then he whirled and set off across the room in the other direction, annoyed with himself. He wasn’t a child. Playing “she loves me, she loves me not” was demeaning and depressing. No matter how many questions he asked himself, or how many times he replayed every moment they’d spent together, he simply couldn’t be certain he hadn’t played right into her plan.
And what did it matter, anyway? Even if every moment they’d shared meant as much to her as they had to him, this story would put the brakes on any chance of furthering their relationship. When Wi
nter found out he’d been living a lie, it would all be over.
He ran a hand through his hair, covered his face, and moaned. Maybe God was delivering a scathing reminder of the scriptural stipulation on light versus darkness. The one he’d lectured himself about already. The same message he’d quoted to his parishioners over and again.
Despite his heart’s response to the woman who’d dropped out of the sky, God’s Word remained as true for him as for anyone. No. For him, it would be even more true, because as a pastor, he couldn’t bring anything less than the Light of God into his church, his home…or his heart.
With that matter settled in his soul, he headed out the door and drove straight to Paradise Pines. Not to see Winter, but to pray with someone he could confide in with no fear of a betrayal of confidence. Someone he now knew had a direct line to Heaven.
He stopped short of Miss Angie’s door, staring at the lavender envelope tucked through the handle. Apparently someone else had also come knocking without first making arrangements with the Paradise Pines Lodge hostess.
His shoulders drooped. What had he done to deserve a day like this?
He started to turn away but stopped when a sudden breeze swept around him out of nowhere. Like a feathery kiss from Heaven, the little blast of air picked up the salty tang of the ocean and brushed cool, refreshing fingers against Brady’s flushed face. Then it danced away to tease at the envelope in Miss Angie’s door handle, finally scooping it free to drop at his feet. Bemused, he stared at the delicate handwriting flowing across the lavender paper. For Ethan.
Not Brady. Not Pastor Merckle. And yet Brady didn’t doubt for an instant the note was meant for him.
Still in the grip of the Divine breeze, he picked up the envelope and returned to his vehicle. A sweep of his knife blade under the seal freed three tablet-sized sheets of paper. Brady noted the salutation and clenched his jaw. How long had she known? Always?