by Delia Latham
She gave him a narrow-eyed, pretend glare. “You are just full of surprises today, brother mine. How do you know?”
“When have you ever been able to hide anything from me? It’s written on your face and in every move you make. You have an inner glow. I just…know.”
“Well.” She crossed her arms and shot him a pretend glare. “So is there anything you don’t know about me?”
Kai sobered. “I don’t know how you can leave Cambria just because you and Brady hit a kink in the works. He’s a good man, Sis, and he loves you.”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Why in the world would you think he loves me?”
“Just take my word for it, Kalani—and yeah, I know you think you’re not Kalani anymore, but you are. Anyway, Brady—or Ethan, or whoever he is—he loves you, and whatever’s going on inside the church, or between the two of you, I don’t see that changing. I can’t understand why you won’t stay and fight for something that could be so good.”
Winter couldn’t get past “he loves you.” “Back up. He loves me?”
A massive eye roll said Kai was tired of repeating himself. “If I’ve ever been right about anything in my life, I’m right about this. He loves you, Sis. Don’t mess it up, OK?”
Something about the size of a boulder blocked her airway. She swallowed hard to rid her throat of the painful obstruction. Her brother’s words confirmed something she’d already felt in her heart…and gave her even more reason to leave. Now. “There are things I have to finish in Cornelius Cove, but if I’m right about this—and I think I am—I’ll be back, before very long, I hope. Now go…get back inside. I can’t leave with you watching me go.”
Kai pull her into a hug. “I love you, Kalani.”
“I know. Aloha wau iā ʻoe kekahi, brother mine. Always.” She climbed into the van. “Go.”
He gave her one last, long look. Then he shook his head and walked back inside.
19
The church doors closed behind her brother. Winter started the van and headed for the lodge, where she climbed the stairs to the apartment, fighting the urge to drop down and cry until she lost consciousness. She didn’t have a lot to pack. Within a few minutes, she was on the deck, locking the door for the last time. Funny how she’d been more at home here, during this partial season at Paradise Pines, than she’d ever been anywhere in her life. With a sigh that came from somewhere deep inside, she turned to go…and caught her breath.
Her cardinal stood at the top of the steps, as if his tiny form could stop her departure. He didn’t trill one of his glorious songs, probably because he held something in his beak.
“What have you got there, little one?”
He hopped across the wooden deck floor until he stood directly in front of her. Then he bent forward and opened his beak. Something hard and semi-round hit the deck and rolled toward Winter’s foot.
She bent to pick it up—slowly, not wishing to startle the little avian—and turned it over and over in her fingers. He’d brought her the one stone she’d been unable to find on Moonstone Beach. A red jasper.
Red lifted himself off the deck floor and hovered two feet in front of her face.
She shook her head and laid the stone on the deck railing. “I don’t deserve this, little friend. Give it to someone else.”
The bird flew to the deck railing and trilled an oh-so-soft, utterly beautiful song. A sorrowful ballad.
Winter sighed. “OK, Red, I hear you. You didn’t want me to accept the assignment from Jeremy—and you were right. I should’ve left it alone. But this time, you’re wrong. There’s something I have to do in Cornelius Cove.”
At the top of the steps, she paused with one hand on the wooden stair rails. “I’m sorry, Red, I really am. But…well, first of all, you’re a bird. You know? I’m not entirely sure I’m not losing my mind when I carry on entire conversations with you.”
A furtive glance over her shoulder showed the cardinal standing right where he’d been before.
Winter rolled her eyes and took one more step. That’s when a crazy, irrational, totally perfect idea zipped through her brain like a bolt of Divine inspiration. She dropped her suitcase and rushed back across the length of the deck to perch on the edge of the porch swing. After a mad scramble through her purse, she produced a notepad and pen and dashed off a few scribbled lines. Then, she folded the paper and tucked it underneath the red stone on the deck railing.
She reclaimed her bag and headed for the steps yet again. If she didn’t get going, someone would show up to try and talk her out of leaving. “Get that to Brady for me, Red, and I’ll know this has all been real—all of it, including you.”
The cardinal didn’t move.
Winter took the steps, but stopped one more time, halfway to the bottom. She refused to turn and look at the cardinal. “Thank you for brightening my world while I was here. I won’t forget you.”
The rest of the steps she took at a headlong rush, tossed the suitcase into the back of the van, and squealed the tires as she rounded the circle drive leading away from Paradise Pines. Tears dimmed her vision, but she didn’t once glance in the rearview mirror.
If she had to watch the lodge disappear behind her she’d never make it to the end of the drive.
Brady forced himself not to dash out the door behind Winter.
For whatever reason, she’d decided it was time to go home. His heart felt the finality when she walked out the sanctuary doors.
Maybe this was God’s hand.
Brady had allowed their mutual attraction to draw him too far down a road he couldn’t travel. So he stayed where he was, let the woman he loved walk away, and bared his heart to the congregation he’d loved for over a decade.
“Once upon a time, in another life, I was young and filled with the zeal of the Lord.” He stopped to close his eyes and bear the onslaught of memory. “I was also far too innocent. Easily led and easily deceived.”
Haltingly at first, and then in a rush of confession, he shared how Cope had wooed him with the prospect of reaching the lost for Christ. Lured him with the promise of a world-wide revival. Between moments of rigid-jawed emotion and occasional tears, he talked about signing on with the organization. Cope had been a master of deception. Brady wasn’t downplaying a thing when he said there’d been no clues…not even the slightest hint of anything illegal or immoral in the man’s operation, until the awful day when a large team of gun-wielding government agents rushed their headquarters and revealed the sordid secret hidden within its workings.
While undeniably profitable, Cope Ministries had been to Rory Cope nothing more than a funnel through which he sifted grist for his real business—the one that shot his net worth through the ceiling. Human trafficking. The horrible truth shattered the hearts and lives of many who, like Brady, had left home, family and friends, dedicated to a ministry they’d believed in.
In the aftermath of the scandal, Brady tumbled headlong into an all-consuming depression.
Cope had used Ethan’s youth, his face and his talent as a magnet, drawing teens and young adults to hear him speak. Many of those eager visitors were captured by coyotes planted in the crowd for that purpose.
That he’d been a party to something so evil, even without his knowledge, ate at Brady like a cancer. He soon left his family again—to keep them safe and hopefully rid them of media attention, but also in search of anonymity. His association with Cope Ministries had generously padded his bank account, and while he didn’t want to use what he considered dirty money, his parents convinced him he’d earned it honestly, and that he should invest in at least a simple home once he’d found a location that seemed right.
He’d bounced from state to state and town to town for nearly two years before he found Cambria—all the way across the country from his home. From the first, the little coastal community soothed his soul. When it began to revive his
spirit, as well, he purchased the small cabin in which he still lived.
At first, he’d made no attempt to move into any kind of church ministry, feeling both unworthy and unwilling. The purchase of the cabin hadn’t depleted his savings, and he didn’t need a lot, but he did need to stay busy. He did odd jobs, earned a little money here and there, and it was enough.
“Many of you were among the first friends I made in Cambria.” He hauled in a deep breath, exhausted from digging into his soul. “It became my home, and slowly, I began to minister again—not behind a pulpit, but to individual souls in need. Years later, I met a special lady named Angelina Love. She and a few others of you were searching for a church and a pastor. God’s nudging and your pleas, finally convinced me to start a small, home, mission-type church. The rest is history, of course. God has blessed us in Cambria House of Praise. We’ve seen it grow and expand to include Chrysalis.” He clenched his jaw, thinking about the kids, and what this might do to them. “Whatever happens as a result of what I’m sharing today, I hope you’ll all keep working at the outreach…keep our young people sheltered and loved.”
He stood, head lowered, not knowing whether to turn and return to the platform or walk out the side door and keep going…somewhere far from here. But these people—his people—deserved more than that.
Finally, helpless and at a loss, he looked up and spread his hands. “Cambria is my home. All of you…you’re my family. I can’t tell you how very sorry I am for not laying this all out on the table from the beginning. Yes, I was young when I came here, but that’s no excuse for keeping secrets. I didn’t see hiding my past as a lie, not back then. I simply hadn’t healed enough to talk about it. But most of all, I was hiding—from the media and from people who’d lost family members to Cope’s evil. I had no part in his human trafficking operation, but since I refused to talk to the press and tell my side of the story, those folks only knew I was the reason their loved ones came to those meetings. In a very real way, my life was in danger.” He paused and then shrugged. “To be honest, if I were recognized by any of them even now, it probably wouldn’t be a good thing.
“You see, I waited too long, and then I didn’t know how to end it. So I let it slide. But now, God has made it clear to me that while I haven’t spoken an untruth, I’m guilty of ‘making a lie’ by living one. I’ve made it right with Him, but I need to also make it right with all of you.”
He scanned the crowd, knowing he’d lose some of them no matter how sincere his apology or how deep his regret. “We’ve made a lot of memories together, and I love each of you in a special way. I pray you can forgive me. I don’t expect you to want me to stick around as your pastor, but I do hope you can look beyond my mistakes and see that my deception had no malicious intent. It was never a part of my plan to cause a rift, or to scar this church body.” He swallowed against the burning sensation in his eyes and throat. “I’m sorry.”
A few whispers rippled across the room before he ever stopped talking. He’d expected that. Then, one after another, the people of his ‘pasture’ got up and moved toward the back door, casting hurt, angry looks his way.
He didn’t blame them. He desperately wanted to leave too, wanted to run from their disappointment and anger, but they had a right to voice those feelings to the person who inflicted the wound. So he stayed.
To his surprise, part of the congregation moved in his direction, rather than hurrying for the exit. They came with tear-drenched faces and outstretched hands, ready to forgive. Logan and Summer Bullard. Declan and Raine Keller. Russ Amundsen and his little girl, Dalynn, hand in hand with Russ’s fiancé, Autumn Warren. Josie Gantry, the beloved housemother who lived at Chrysalis with the teens. Others came as well, some of whom he would have expected to be amongst those headed for the door.
Brady watched them go, his heart aching for each of them. They felt deceived and misled. He hadn’t set out to hurt anyone—not like Cope’s deliberate betrayal—but the pain these people felt today was no less than that inflicted on those who’d trusted and believed in his former mentor.
Before the first couple reached the back of the sanctuary, the double doors leading to the foyer slammed open as if blown by a strong wind. A burst of bright light filled the opening and then moved—no…hovered—on what appeared to be massive wings into the sanctuary. The doors swung shut behind the floating light form. Men and women shielded their eyes against the overpowering glare.
Brady narrowed his gaze but made no attempt to close his eyes or shield them from the brightness. He stood amazed while small children—those who should have been most frightened—stared into the light with wide eyes and broad smiles, as if greeting someone they knew and loved.
And then a voice—familiar and yet not quite identifiable—spoke like quiet thunder from within the glow, cutting through the angry whispers and heartrending sobs.
“Is any amongst you without sin? Does one perfect man stand in your midst?”
A collective gasp arose from the congregation, Brady included. What was this?
“If such a one can be found, then let him cast the first stone.”
The glowing figure moved with beautiful grace from one side of the double doors to the other but never moved too far from the entrance, and not one of Brady’s scurrying lambs made even the slightest attempt to pass through.
Some people fell to their knees. Others hid their faces, while a few seemed transfixed, unable to look away.
That familiar-but-unknown voice spoke again from within the Light. “He who is forgiven little, loves little. My son’s sins are forgiven, for he loves much.”
No one spoke so much as a whisper. Some had uncovered their faces to stand in awed fascination, fixed on the angelic form. A few peeked between their fingers. Still others had fallen to their knees, unable to bear the power that flowed from within the light form.
“There is none perfect, no, not one. But if we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive them and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
Brady forgot to breathe during the running dialogue of one related scripture after another. The words stopped, and he hauled in much-needed air even as his ears picked up the sounds of soft weeping—and not from a single source. Many of his church members wept into handkerchiefs or into trembling hands. Some let tears rain down their faces, making no attempt to staunch the flow.
A few final words came from within the glorious light, spoken softer now, more gently. “Be merciful, children, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Pardon, and you will be pardoned.”
The light coalesced into a pulsating cross, eliciting a few quiet shrieks. Then it disappeared in a quiet fade.
No one spoke. No one walked out.
But after a moment of complete silence, Miss Angie walked in.
Brady frowned. Where had she been during the unbelievable event? He would have noticed if she left with Winter. Wouldn’t he?
Miss Angie’s vivid blue gaze swept the silent, awe-struck occupants of the sanctuary. One hand rose to smooth white hair that didn’t need smoothing, and a tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows. “Did I…miss something?”
Her mystified question seemed to release the voices of the stunned parishioners. Starting with awed whispers, everyone tried to fill her in on what had transpired.
As if she doesn’t already know.
Much to his own surprise, Brady’s lips curved into a small, involuntary smile. He watched Miss Angie patiently listen to the buzz of voices, each relating a separate account of the fantastic events that followed “pastor’s message.”
He still hadn’t moved from his place at the front of the church, surrounded by those who’d been ready to support him even prior to the unbelievable display of God’s glory at the back doors. Now they all moved close to place him in the center of a huge, loving group hug.
“We love you, man.”
“Nothing t
o forgive, Pastor.”
“Who knows what any one of us would have done under the same circumstances?”
“Let’s just move forward, shall we? Leave the past in the past.”
And on it went. Until at last, humbled by the onslaught of love, forgiveness, and acceptance, Brady fell to his knees, overcome by shock and long-bottled emotion.
Cool fingers touched his forehead, and someone spoke soft words into his ear. “There now, dear. Stand and be strong. God has wrought a miracle in this place today.” Miss Angie, of course.
He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped at his face. Then he stood and turned to face his friends, only to find the circle of support had grown to include almost everyone who’d been in the service.
His resident angel eased backward through the press of awed parishioners, who were eager to forgive and move on. As she had so clearly intended, hardly anyone noticed Miss Angie’s discreet withdrawal. Brady met her gaze over the heads of the people God had given him to shepherd and sent her a barely discernable nod.
To his utter astonishment, the genteel lady returned a saucy wink and a wide smile. Then she turned and made her way down the aisle and out through the back entrance.
Not a trace of shining glory remained near those portals, despite the new name it had given the pastor of Cambria House of Praise.
20
A couple of weeks after his public confession and apology to the church, Ethan Miracle stood outside Paradise Pines and swiped a hand across his sweaty brow.
Getting the place ready for Miss Angie’s Christmas party had turned into a huge job—mostly because the lady kept adding little tasks here and there that, all together, became a big task.
Not that Ethan minded…he needed to stay busy to keep his mind off Winter and his vehicle off the road to Cornelius Cove. Since going either of those places would only prolong the agony of losing her, he was grateful he had plenty to keep himself occupied. Still, thank God Kai had pitched in to help, or he might’ve been working right up until time for the guests to arrive on Christmas Eve.