Jacob braced one arm against a tree trunk and leaned in. “I was thinking about Henry’s church, not yours. Letting his congregation meet here could mean trouble.”
“Trouble from the arsonists?”
“Yep. For the most part, people around here get along. I’m not saying it’s perfect, no place is. But apparently there are some who feed on hate.”
Judith looked over Jacob’s shoulder at Henry and the men who had gathered around him. “I don’t want to disappoint Rev. Washington or Beverly Lewis. How long will it take them to get my grandfather’s church in shape?”
“A week or two.”
“And Rev. Washington’s church? That has to be built from the ground up, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. And that will take a minimum of three months. Probably longer.”
Judith frowned in concentration. She’d vowed to keep her grandfather’s church safe, but how could she deny the people who needed it? The arsonists’ most potent weapon wasn’t fire, it was fear. If she kept her grandfather’s church closed, she’d be giving in to that fear.
“What are you thinking, Judith?”
“I know I may be putting my grandfather’s church in danger, but how can I refuse to lend it? This old church has been empty too long.” She stepped away from Jacob and strode towards the church. “OK, Rev. Washington. The church is yours to use.”
Henry clapped his hands in joy. “Thank you, Jesus.”
“But there’s one condition,” Judith hastened to add. “I’m only letting you use it for six months. During that time, I expect you to do whatever you can to rebuild your own church.”
“Oh, bless you, Judith. Bless you, bless you. We never intended to be here permanently. Mr. Isaiah’s church is like a tabernacle in the wilderness. Praise God’s holy name!”
“Amen,” the men around him responded.
Judith offered her hand. “It’s a deal, then?”
Henry slid his hand into hers. “It’s a deal.”
“Thank you, Miss Judith,” the men said, each shaking her hand in turn.
“Did you hear that, Jacob?” Henry called to him.
Jacob stepped beside Judith and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I heard. Sounds like you’ll be busy for the next few months.”
“As it says in the Book of Romans, ‘We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.’ We’ll be busy doing the Lord’s work.”
****
As Henry and his friends drove away from the old church, Jacob fell in step with Judith. “What have you got planned for today?”
“Working. Why?”
“Thought you might like to do some exploring.”
“Exploring of what?”
“Your new property. I bet you didn’t know there were orchids growing nearby.”
“Orchids? I thought they only grew in the rainforest.”
“These aren’t the big, showy flowers you may have seen at the florist’s shop, but they’re orchids all right. The species that grows around here is called Ladies’ Tresses.”
“I’d like to see that. Come on up to the cabin and I’ll get ready.”
As they stepped onto the porch, an orange blur shot across Jacob’s boots.
“What in the world?”
“That’s my cat,” Judith said between laughs. “She never walks anywhere. She disappears for hours on end, and then I’ll find her food dish empty.”
“So, you’re doing OK out here?” Jacob asked as he followed her into the cabin.
Judith laid her sketchbook on the kitchen table. “Yeah, everything’s been fine. I won’t lie and say it wasn’t hard at first, but now I’m used to the night noises. Well, most of them.”
“Like what?”
“Like the bullfrog that spends the night right under my bedroom floor. The first time I heard that I nearly jumped out of my skin. And the owls. Now I know why they call them screech owls.”
Concern tugged at his heart. He tilted his head and looked at her. “So, you’ve been scared out here?”
“No, of course not, I just…” Judith looked away from him. “Well, I’m not scared anymore.”
His concern disappeared as he wrapped his arms around Judith’s shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “Anytime you feel frightened, I hope you’ll call me.”
Judith stilled in his arms. “I just need more time to adjust, Mr. Fraser.”
Jacob tightened his arms around her. “Oh, no. Not Mr. Fraser again. I thought you’d given that up.”
Judith smiled up at him. “Why, Mr. Fraser, what are you talking about?”
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“Who? Me?”
She felt good in his arms. A perfect fit. He smiled down at her, enjoying the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. Was it too soon to kiss her?
Before he could test the answer to his question, Judith stepped away from his embrace.
“How long will be we walking?”
“About half an hour.” Jacob picked up Judith’s sketchbook and flipped through the pages. “What have you been working on?”
“Birds mostly. I got the idea that fairies might train birds so that they could ride on them.”
“Wait a minute, who’s this?”
Judith’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “Give me that.”
“I’d swear this was a picture of me.”
Judith grabbed for the sketchbook.
“Hold on there,” Jacob said, holding the book high above his head. “Why were you drawing pictures of me? You’re not going to make me a fairy, are you?”
Judith stretched to her tiptoes and reached for the book again. “Give me that. It’s mine.”
“I’ll give it to you, but you have to do something first.”
Judith stepped away from him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What?” she asked with a scowl.
“First, no more Mr. Fraser.”
“Fine.”
“So, what’s my name?”
“Jacob. Now give me my book.”
“Second,” Jacob continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “you have to give me a kiss.”
“A kick? I’ll be glad to give you a kick. And I know just where I’d like to aim it.”
“No, no,” Jacob said between chuckles. “You know what I said. A kiss.”
Judith narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips tightly.
Holding her sketchbook high over his head, Jacob thumbed through the pages. “Now, where was my picture?”
He felt the briefest of kisses on his cheek and turned quickly to catch her in another embrace.
But she was quicker. With a move that would have made Pumpkin proud, Judith snatched the book out of Jacob’s hand and scurried through the back door.
“Judith?” Jacob called as he stepped outside. “That’s not exactly what I’d call a—”
Beverly Lewis’s lively black eyes grinned up at him. “Hey, Jacob. What are you doing here?”
Jacob caught the warning glance Judith threw his way and bit back a grin. “Oh, just visiting. What about you?”
“I brought Judith some of my peach cobbler.” Beverly nodded towards the foil-covered dish in Judith’s hands. “Brother Henry came by to give me the good news, and I just had to come over and thank my new neighbor.”
“Peach cobbler?” Jacob asked. “Beverly, when are you going to marry me?”
Beverly clapped her hands and gave a peal of delighted laughter. “You know you’re too ugly for me, Jacob Fraser. Besides, you just like my cooking.”
Jacob took the dish from Judith’s hands and peeked under the foil. “And that’s a problem?”
“Come on in, Beverly,” Judith invited. “If we don’t eat some cobbler now, I might not get any.”
Beverly laughed again. “Jacob here, he does have a sweet tooth. I can testify to that.”
****
Judith chuckled quietly as she found bowls and spoons. How liberating it was to
indulge in good-natured teasing with a man, rather than doubt his every move. Jacob and Beverly sat at the small round kitchen table.
“You know, Beverly,” Judith began, “I only gave permission for Rev. Washington to use my grandfather’s church for six months.”
“That’s what he told me,” Beverly answered as she heaped the peach cobbler into the bowls. “That’ll work out fine. We’ll do the repairs that are needed on Mr. Isaiah’s church, and then get started rebuilding our own. We’ve got all the labor, just need the materials.”
Jacob was spooning the cobbler into his mouth.
“And Jacob’s going to see to that,” Judith said.
“Don’t I know it? Brother Henry told me all about it. My, Jacob. I’m going to have to make you one of my sweet potato pies if you keep this up.”
Jacob dropped his spoon into the bowl and shot an accusing look at Judith. The pink tinge on his cheeks told Judith her tactic had been successful. “I didn’t do anything,” he protested.
“No use trying to be modest,” Beverly said. “We all know how you helped. Yes, sir. I’d better buy some sweet potatoes next time I go to the store.”
Maybe Judith shouldn’t cause Jacob such uneasiness. But she was having so much fun. “It wouldn’t surprise me,” she added, “if Jacob showed up to work on my grandfather’s church. Everyone says what a great friend he is.”
“That does it,” Jacob said, the blush stretching from his face to his neck. “Time for me to go.”
Beverly and Judith exchanged glances, and then Beverly let out a squeal of laughter. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Jacob protested. “But I will take the rest of this cobbler with me. Judith, I’ll see you later.”
Before Judith could answer, Jacob swept up the dish of cobbler and darted out the front door. As the screen door banged behind him, she and Beverly looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“Oh,” Beverly said, holding her sides. “We shouldn’t have teased him. I didn’t know he was so shy.”
“Don’t worry about Jacob,” Judith answered. “Trust me. He deserved it.”
7
The rain started on Friday morning. What began as a gentle summer shower soon threatened Piney Meadow with ominous thunder and intense flashes of lightning.
Judith huddled inside, trying to ignore the rushing wind that bowed pine saplings and whistled around the corners of the cabin. But when she heard the church’s bell clanging with the powerful gusts, ringing as if calling for worshipers to huddle inside its walls and find refuge from the storm, a shiver ran down her spine.
She was in the deep end now. Not only had she left her fortified condominium to live in a secluded cabin that didn’t even have a lock on the door, she’d willingly endangered her grandfather’s church. Was it worth the risk?
No matter how high her anxiety soared, the answer to that question was obvious. It was better to risk the old church than to leave it safe, but empty. Without the love of a congregation, her grandfather’s church was an empty shell, devoid of life and missing the energy that only the Holy Spirit could supply.
But wasn’t Judith inviting violence by loaning the church to Henry’s congregation? She’d structured her life so that the monster would never again find her. She’d hidden from danger and threats of danger until she existed in a sheltered cocoon.
But had that really been living? She’d tried to become invisible, to be only as noticeable as paint on the walls. And she’d paid a high price for her safety.
She’d given up friends and sacrificed her future by surrendering to fear. Had her grandfather known that? Maybe he’d known the land would tempt her out of hiding.
The memory of Granddad’s warm hugs put a smile on Judith’s face. He’d loved her even though she’d been too afraid to travel the distance to see him. Maybe it was too little, too late, but she couldn’t allow herself to back down now. It felt as if the whole universe was pushing her to see it through.
A crash of thunder startled her, causing the paintbrush to skid across a fairy’s face. She groaned in frustration and reached for a rag. Then the lights blinked out.
Judith sat back in the darkness and sighed. So much for finishing the painting today. She lit a candle and set aside the paints. As she cleaned her brushes, the image of her mother’s face floated to the front of her mind.
Rachel Beecham. Judith’s memories of her mother had little to do with how she’d looked. The scent of lilies could bring back the remembrance of her mother’s perfume and, even after decades of being without her, Judith could close her eyes and remember the feel of her mother’s hand on her brow, checking for a fever, or brushing bangs out of her eyes.
Mother. The word was so packed with emotional power that Judith never said it without a tightness coiling in her chest.
As soon as she mailed the fairy paintings, Judith would paint her mother’s portraits. By using the old photos, she could document her mother’s growth from girlhood to teenager to young woman. Given enough time, she could begin to know the person her mother had been. Given the opportunity, she could mine the rich memories of her mother’s friends until she had a deeper understanding.
Since she had no light with which to work, Judith decided to call Emma Fraser and arrange another visit. But she groaned with frustration when the words No Service appeared on the cell phone’s display. She hesitated a moment, and then remembered Emma’s standing invitation. Hopefully, the phrase “come by anytime” wasn’t just politeness, because that’s exactly what Judith planned to do. Without another moment’s consideration, she grabbed an umbrella and headed for her car.
As the roadster’s wheels splashed through puddles along the dirt road, it soon became clear that Jacob’s earlier warning had not been exaggerated. While her sports car had been nothing but fun to drive on the paved streets of Dallas, Jacob had been right about the rural roads of Piney Meadow.
Less than a mile away from the cabin, her BMW sank up to its axles in oozing red mud. Her tires spun uselessly, spraying muck behind the rear wheels as she dug the car even deeper.
Muttering under her breath, she retrieved her cell phone and auto club card from her purse. But when she remembered the thunderstorm had blocked her cell phone service, the muttering grew into a low growl of frustration.
Now what? The choices were limited. Either sit in the car until the storm passed or walk back to the cabin.
Judith eased the car door open and looked into the deep puddle that skirted the edge of the door. No telling how long the rain would last. She’d have to walk.
She grabbed the umbrella and then, stretching her legs as far as possible, bracketed the puddle and pushed herself out of the car. “Yes!” she shouted.
Feeling every inch the victor, she kicked the door shut and promptly slipped, bottom first, into the muck.
Caked with mud from the back pockets of her jeans to her sneakers, Judith squished her way towards the cabin. The rain intensified, threatening her flimsy umbrella. She fought the wind for a few minutes, turning the umbrella against the gusts like a swordsman parrying attacks from an invisible foe, until one mighty blast tore the umbrella from her hands and carried it into the woods. She eyed the umbrella, lodged halfway up a tall pine, and ground her teeth.
Cold, stinging rain bit at her face, dripped down her back and chilled her to the bone. Her clothes clung, sopping wet and heavy, adding to the difficulty of her trek. Shivering, but determined, Judith trudged on, counting the steps to her grandfather’s cabin as a way to occupy her mind. It was better than going over the mistakes that led her to her current condition. Just when she was sure things couldn’t get worse, they did.
Jacob Fraser pulled up beside her, driving her grandfather’s truck.
****
“Judith?” Jacob called.
Judith covered her face and shook her head.
“Are you all right?” he called again.
She stopped, fisted her
hands on her hips, and glared at him. Hair was plastered to her face and drops of water fell from the end of her nose.
She was beautiful.
“I’m fine. What’s the matter, don’t I look fine?”
Jacob knew she was embarrassed, but it was all he could do not to break into laughter. “Get in the truck, Judith. I’ll give you a ride the rest of the way.”
“I don’t need a ride.”
“Uh-huh. I can see that.”
She stomped a few more paces.
Jacob eased the truck forward to keep up with her. “I saw your car in the road.”
She didn’t answer, just kept her gaze straight ahead as she splashed through the puddles.
“Want me to call the tow truck for you?”
“No.”
“I went by the mechanic’s to check on Isaiah’s truck, and it was ready. I thought I’d bring it out, and then you could drive me back to town.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to ride the rest of the way?”
“I’m sure.”
It was amazing how Judith could look so good, even with her backside covered in mud. Jacob coasted beside her a few more feet until he saw the cabin in the distance.
“Judith,” he tried again. “Being stubborn isn’t getting you anywhere. Now climb in.”
Judith whirled. “Are you deaf or something? I said I don’t need a ride. Just go on.”
Jacob shook his head slowly from side to side. Stubborn didn’t even begin to describe the kind of woman who would rather walk in mud and rain than ride in a warm, dry pickup.
But tagging along wouldn’t change her mind and might make things worse. He drove on, parked in front of the cabin and stepped onto the porch to watch for her.
A few minutes later, Judith came around the curve and into view—wet, muddy, and so angry he wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam rising off her.
Just as she reached the front porch, the rain stopped. Judith tilted her head back, said something to the sky, and then headed towards the back of the cabin.
From The Ashes Page 8