Peter took her hand and squeezed it before sitting down. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said in low tones.
“Thank you.”
Oh, Lord, what to do, what to do?
She smiled as he and Marin sat down. She glanced toward Jayne, who headed in her direction.
“You’re all set?”
Sadie nodded. “After each reading, one pair of lamps goes out.”
“Right. Candles will be extinguished last.”
“I have my snuffer in my pocket.”
The song Marcella played lent a quiet atmosphere to the room, and those who entered spoke to each other in soft voices, some in whispers. The Barncastle clan had set out seats for seventy-five, an ambitious number to aim for. By the time seven o’clock arrived, three-fourths of the chairs were occupied, more than for last night’s service.
Luke stepped up to the podium. “Welcome, everyone, to our Good Friday ‘Service in Shadows.’ While Easter, along with Christmas, are two of the most joyous days on the Christian calendar, Good Friday is often left out. Our order of service tonight, if you follow our handout, is based on a service that dates back to the fourth century. It focuses on the suffering and sacrifice of Christ, and what that means to us as Christians. If there’s anyone who doesn’t have a program, my son Andy has some to hand out.”
The first reading began, The Shadow Of Betrayal. Here was the veterinarian, Alec Ross, dressed like the apostle Peter. “I don’t know this man. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His red hair lent to the intensity of the scene.
Voices, offstage: “We saw you with him, Galilean.”
“No, that wasn’t me. You’re mistaken.”
More voices: “You’re him, the one he called Simon Peter, the rock.”
“No, I tell you—I—don’t—know—that—man!”
A rooster crowed. A pair of the lights went out, and the room darkened slightly. Sadie shivered as she stepped back from the lamp she’d just extinguished.
The events recorded in the Bible unfolded, after Christ’s betrayal, sham trial, the flogging. Sadie closed her eyes and listened to the words.
Let me never forget, never take lightly, what happened so long ago…
Someone nudged her elbow, and Sadie opened her eyes. Marin. “Miss Jayne wants you to turn out the next set of lamps on this side,” the young girl whispered.
“Thanks, Marin.” Sadie nodded, then stepped to the next lamp. The barn darkened further. A cool breeze drifted through the open doors, making the candle and lamp lights flicker. Sadie tried not to shiver again as the light in the barn dimmed.
Another reader stepped up, the man who played the Apostle John the previous night during the Last Supper. He read from the book of John, where Christ called out, asking why God had forsaken Him.
The pleading words bounced off the walls. Sadie swallowed hard. With the sin of the ages on Jesus’ shoulders, the weight had to be unimaginable. Yet, He was innocent.
Forgive me, Lord, when I focus far too much on being chastised for my shortcomings. Yes, she’d lost her job—not from a sin, but from a rash mistake. She’d beat herself up too much about that one. Her career and job worries? Not that hard to bear, in the grand scheme of things.
Yes, Lord, you’re right. If You care for me far more than sparrows, I shouldn’t worry quite so much. But, now, about Peter…
She wasn’t sure what to do, heading into unfamiliar territory. This was something out of a book, or a movie—girl leaves big city in disgrace, goes to small town in the mountains, fresh start, new love. She hadn’t thought much about how long she’d stay…
And now Peter, and Marin, who clearly wasn’t doing backflips over the idea of her father moving on with Sadie, or anyone, for that matter. Sadie also thought of what it meant to love someone else’s child like her own? Could she do that? Would Marin let her? It had worked for Jayne, Luke, and Andy.
Hush. She stilled her swirling thoughts.
Marcella’s voice pulled her attention back to the service as she sang, a capella, “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded.” The notes echoed from the rafters, as if the barn had turned into a cathedral.
Sadie’s cheeks were wet. She brushed the tears away, but more flowed. The entire barn lay mostly in darkness, save several of the candles that still flickered on the stage.
One more light left. The room was silent, save for a few sniffles and whispered prayers.
With the words “it is finished,” a sound like thunder echoed through the barn.
The last candle extinguished, and darkness filled the room.
“And with that, mankind’s debt was paid in full,” came Luke’s voice. “Jesus said before His death, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.’ Jesus also told the Jews, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.”
Luke paused before continuing. “The Scriptures say Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate for the body of Jesus. With Pilate’s permission, he came and took the body away. He was accompanied by Nicodemus, who brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes. Taking Jesus’ body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen. This was in accordance with Jewish burial customs. At the place where Jesus was crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb, in which no one had ever been laid. Because it was almost the Sabbath, they laid Jesus there.”
Sadie stood against the barn wall, listening to the silence that followed. What it must have been like for his friends, and family to have lost Him that way. Did they know? Did they really believe? Even watching from a distance, they’d seen him die. Sadie wiped her eyes. She hadn’t expected the simple service of a few songs and Scripture readings to affect her in this way.
“Lord, we can’t fathom what you did for us, but we thank you,” Luke prayed aloud. “Let us remember your suffering, even as we look forward to the joy of celebrating your resurrection on Sunday morning. Let us live with humble, repentant hearts as we live our lives. Amen.”
Sadie’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She could see dark shapes in the seats lining the barn, along with shadows of empty chairs. A pale blue light lit the barn opening, along with the glow from lights in the parking lot.
“You are dismissed,” Luke said. “You are welcome to return for our sunrise service at seven on Sunday morning.” Andy lit a solitary lamp in the rear of the barn to give enough light to see as the guests departed.
Those in the barn rose, speaking in soft voices, in the same way they’d entered the barn. Sadie had never attended a service like this. Who could forget the sight of the room darkening, little by little, after each reading, or the sound of Marcella’s beautiful voice, filled with sadness?
Sadie hurried to the barn doorway, murmuring her goodbyes to those leaving.
Peter met her by the barn entrance. “Did you see Marin? She told me she was going to help you.”
“I did, for a few moments.” Even in the light from the parking lot, she could see Peter’s wrinkled brow. “I thought she went back to sit with you.”
He shook his head. “No, she didn’t.”
A tremble went through Sadie’s shoulders, but she stilled herself. “Maybe she went to sit near Jayne, Andy, and Hank.” But then she remembered Jayne and Andy had helped with the lights and candles, while Uncle Ted had kept an eye on Hank.
“I don’t know.” Peter glanced around the barn.
Cars began to leave the Barncastle parking lot, one by one. The barn had emptied, and someone flipped the light switch near the stage, revealing an almost-empty barn.
No Marin.
**
A thorough search of the barn revealed nothing.
Where had Marin gone? Peter alternated between worry and irritation.
“Ha
s she ever done anything like this before?” Luke glanced from Peter to Sadie.
“No.” Peter shook his head. “I have no idea why she would have either. Not entirely, anyway.”
This had to be his fault. He knew she was more mature for her age than some other ten-year-olds. Yet, the subject of Christ’s suffering and death wasn’t the usual choice for happy Bible stories children learned.
Tomorrow, though, was the day that Kate had passed away. Marin hadn’t been there, at their home, while the Hospice nurse had waited at the house those last few moments. Peter had insisted that his parents take Marin out, somewhere, anywhere, until Kate had slipped away from this life.
Peter roused himself from the memory as Sadie asked the few remaining guests if they’d seen Marin leave.
Marcella McSweeney spoke up. “It was pretty dark, but I thought I saw someone really short leave the barn, right after Jayne put out the last candle. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”
Peter held up his hand. “You had no way of knowing.” Once, Marin had begged him to let her have a cell phone, and he’d said no, that ten was too young. If only she had one now, he could find out exactly where she was. What if she was in trouble? Yet if she’d been taken, Marin wouldn’t have gone quietly.
“I—I wonder if she walked home. It doesn’t make sense.” He glanced at Sadie. “You don’t think she might have gone to the gift shop?”
“No, it’s locked.” Sadie grasped his arm. “We’ll find her. I’m sure she’s all right.”
“We’ll start looking on the property, fan out and walk through the woods, toward your house,” Luke said. “If we don’t find her, then we’ll call the police.” His voice sounded grim.
Peter almost objected, but his denial wouldn’t make the current situation go away. He didn’t want to think about anything happening to Marin.
Now Sadie gripped his hand. “I have some flashlights in the shop. I know Luke has some around here, too.” She turned and half-jogged, half-limped toward the shop.
Numb, Peter strode toward the nearest section of woods and stopped.
“I’m going to check the house,” he said aloud. “I can’t see her having walked home so quickly, but if she cut through the woods instead of walking down to the main road.” Neither idea appealed to him, but the woods would have been the obvious route to walk home.
He hurried to the Volvo, his heart pounding.
**
Sadie returned to the parking lot as Peter left. The flashlights in her hands felt like weights.
“Here,” she said to Jayne. “Unless you need to see to the guests?”
Marcella, beside Jayne, said, “I can help out. I don’t mind, Jayne. I know where the hot chocolate and snacks are, plus I can get the coffee brewing.”
Jayne nodded. “Thank you, Marcella.”
Sadie turned on her flashlight and its beam pierced the woods. Through the still-bare trees, she glimpsed the distant glow of the Applemans’ porch light, more than one-hundred yards away. The sugar house was locked for the night, and not operating with the temperature dropping at night and the sap not flowing as quickly as the daytime. That, too, was probably securely locked. She figured Marin wouldn’t want to go inside there by herself.
A flash of metal in the distance—Peter’s car going up his driveway and stopping in the open yard between the buildings.
Sadie took the first few steps into the woods. They’d all torn through here as children, making believe they were in a medieval forest, battling dragons and other creatures with invisible swords, jousting on imaginary horses. In summery daytime, the woods provided a green fantasy world. At night, though, the woods appeared shadowed, dark, with sharp angles and crevices and downed tree limbs hiding who knew what?
Bears, again. Sadie swallowed around the childish lump that rose in her throat at the thought. Even on her still-healing ankle, if she saw a bear she’d run like the dickens to the Barncastle, whose turret cast a long shadow toward the woods on the other side of the sprawling home.
She heard voices calling out for Marin, and joined her own with their calls.
“Marin, where are you? If you can hear me, holler!” Her voice rang out against the tall maples, with an occasional pine mixed in with the shorter trees.
“Help me! I’m stuck!” a small voice called, not far from where Sadie stood.
“Marin?”
“I can’t get down!”
Sadie swung the flashlight in the direction of Marin’s voice. It was high above them.
The old treehouse. Of course. She used the light to guide herself toward Marin.
“I found her! And we need a ladder!” She called out to the others, and whistled. She grabbed her phone and called Peter.
“You found her?” he answered after the first ring.
“Yes, she’s in the old tree house. I have no idea how she got up there, or why—”
“I’m coming right over. Wave your flashlight so I can see where you are.”
“Okay.” She made it to the base of the old maple and started swinging her flashlight beam in the direction of Peter’s house. “Marin, I’m on the phone with your dad. He went home to look for you. He’s coming back.”
“All—all right.”
Her phone went silent, so Sadie slipped it back into her pocket. “How did you get up there?”
“I climbed. There was an old board nailed into the trunk and I found some footholds.”
“Well, um, why did you climb up there?”
“I—I got scared. I thought I heard something.”
Ah, child logic. Sadie glanced around the darkened woods. A few flashlight beams bounced in the distance, as the others headed toward her. Peter arrived first.
“I already hollered for someone to bring a ladder,” Sadie told him.
“Thank you.” He laid his hand on the tree trunk and looked up. “Marin, you scared me. Why did you leave the barn?”
“I—I don’t know. I didn’t want to be there anymore. It was so sad, and I…I miss Mommy.” With that, she started to sob.
Sadie lowered the flashlight, and sighed. “Peter.”
He echoed her sigh. “I know…Marin, honey, after we get you down from there…”
“It was tomorrow, Daddy. Tomorrow. And I still want her back.”
“I know, sweetheart. We’ll always want her back.”
The words cut into Sadie and ripped into her heart. She thought she’d done a good job protecting it, but evidently not. Her eyes stung with tears.
If Peter wasn’t ready to move on, despite the kiss, all this between them would be a mistake.
She allowed herself a smile at the bitter irony. It was on this same spot, years ago, he’d nearly kissed her. But her own pride had made her stand by while other kids teased him about it, and then she joined in.
After this weekend, she’d email Jessica a fresh copy of her resumé.
Chapter 8
Peter woke Saturday morning with a headache. It figured. Two years ago today, Kate had left them. The day had grown ever closer, and of course, the perfect Vermont spring weather called to him outside as if nothing were wrong in the world.
He rolled out of bed, and headed downstairs to the sound of cartoons.
Marin sat on the couch. She held a bowl, probably containing her favorite cereal. “Morning, Daddy.”
“Morning.” He headed for the coffee pot, and groaned as he stood at the counter. He’d forgotten to program the coffeemaker last night.
They’d stayed up late, talking about Kate and going through a photo album, started when Marin was a baby and filled with pictures until right before Kate got sick. She’d been the one to keep the photos straight. Peter had plenty of digital photos stored on the computer, but had neglected to keep up with ordering prints.
He set up the coffeemaker, and while the coffee gurgled and brewed, his thoughts drifted to Sadie. Last night he hadn’t missed the look on her face, lit by flashlight. He wi
shed he’d chosen his words more carefully, but at the moment, his first priority had been Marin.
His first priority, for the past two years, had always been Marin. But Sadie—
A pair of arms crept around his waist. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“For what?”
“Being the best dad in the world.”
“Remind me again about that when you’re sixteen.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her forehead. “I’m glad Sadie found you.”
“I knew somebody would find me. I didn’t want to yell at the end of the service and ruin it. I could hear the music, too. It was beautiful.” Marin skittered back to the living room.
Barncastle Inn had invited him and the rest of the neighbors up and down the road to their Easter egg roll and Easter parade today, along with a picnic lunch. Anyone who wanted to dress up could come in late 1800s costume, the bigger the hat the better for ladies, or at least come in their Sunday best. After the stroll, the inn was hosting an egg roll for the kids.
Peter preferred to be a hermit and stay in his lounge pants and old T-shirt. They planned to have a small ham tomorrow, provided he didn’t burn it, and he had promised to let Marin make Kate’s cheesy potatoes for one of the side dishes.
“We’re going to the parade, right?” Marin called from the living room. “Andy told me they have hats we can wear for costume. I want to wear a lavender one—if we go.”
“I wasn’t planning to go today.” Anticipating her next question, he added. “And, no, I’m not planning on dropping you off there, either.”
“I won’t run off, I promise.” She entered the kitchen, right as he was pouring his first cup. “I don’t want to go without you, anyway. Besides, I don’t think Mommy would have wanted us to sit home because of her.”
He nodded and took the first sip of coffee, then swallowed. “I don’t think she would have, either.”
“I already know what dress I want to wear.” She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling like Kate’s did.
He figured he could be ready within thirty minutes. “All right, we’ll go.”
Spring Comes To Barncastle Inn Page 5