Chloe turned to Jacob. “Can we go home now?”
“Sure,” Jacob said. “Is it OK if I carry you?”
“I’m too big to be carried.”
“I know. But I’d like to, anyway.” Jacob swung the girl onto his hip and reached his free hand towards Judith.
Chloe was fine, Judith told herself as she took Jacob’s hand. Despite her fears, nothing bad had happened to the child. Chloe rested her head on Jacob’s shoulder and closed her eyes, safe in her uncle’s arms. Although Judith would never prevent Chloe from receiving the reassurance she needed, she wished she could take the little girl’s place.
****
Judith sat on the cabin’s front porch and watched the tail lights of Jacob’s truck disappear. The summer light did not surrender easily to darkness and she’d have at least an hour before the fireflies began to blink their secret messages throughout the night.
Jacob hadn’t wanted to leave her alone, but Judith refused to spend the night at his mother’s house. She’d won every battle against her fears so far. No way would she let Dwight’s threats get the better of her.
Judith closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. The wind rustled through the lofty tree tops, making the surrounding forest whisper its eternal praise. This was her favorite time of day to pray.
Thank you, Lord. Gratitude swelled in her heart as she thought about Chloe and Keneisha. Dwight hadn’t hurt the girls, but Judith still didn’t trust him.
Watch over those I care about. Judith had always asked the Lord to keep her father safe, but tonight she included Henry Washington and the members of his church.
She’d spent most of her life hiding, but the members of the All Saints Community Church had faced their fears. They weren’t about to let the threat of arson keep them from rebuilding their church. What did a Christian do when hatred destroyed what they’d have built? They prayed for the wrongdoer and rebuilt.
Help me to know Your will. The Lord had been preparing her for this moment, and here she was, ready to answer His call. What more could the Lord have in store for her?
It was a good evening to read a Psalm, but as Judith reached for her Bible, headlights shone around the curve leading to her cabin. An unfamiliar black sedan pulled to a stop, and a forty-something man, tall and distinguished looking, got out of the car.
“Miss Robertson?” he asked.
Judith swallowed the hint of panic that rose in her throat. Just because he was a stranger didn’t mean he intended to harm her. She stood and wrapped her hands around the post that supported the porch’s roof. “Yes?”
“I’m Special Agent Mark Grey with the FBI.” He slipped on a charcoal-colored jacket that matched his slacks and showed her his identification. “If you have a few minutes, I’d like to speak to you.”
What did the FBI want with her? Her knees trembled as she walked down the steps and checked his I.D. “What brings you all the way out here?”
“Sheriff Miller asked the Bureau to help with his investigation of the church arsons. I understand you’ve agreed to lend a meeting place for Henry Washington’s congregation.”
Judith’s worry faded. The FBI was in Piney Meadow because of the arsons. That had to be a good thing. “It’s an abandoned church my grandfather built many years ago. It’s a temporary home until Rev. Washington can rebuild. Would you like to see it?”
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Let me get a flashlight.”
“I’ve got one in the car.” Mark retrieved the flashlight and fell into step beside Judith. “How many people are in Rev. Washington’s congregation?”
Judith led him along the narrow pathway. “I don’t know for sure. My best guess would be about fifty.”
“That’s the same for all the churches that have been destroyed. Small groups of people who gather for mutual support and casual worship.”
“And all African-American.”
“Right.”
“Any idea who’s behind the fires?”
“We’ve got a few leads.”
“Here we are.” Judith stepped inside the church and flipped on the lights. The sanctuary had been transformed. Vases of fresh flowers decorated the cloth-covered altar and the spotless windows reflected the light.
Mark switched off the flashlight. “Someone’s been hard at work.”
“They sure have. Even though I told Rev. Washington he could use the church for only six months, his group still fixed it up.”
“Goes to show how much they value the place.” Mark walked down the center aisle, his fingers skimming the tops of the pews and his footsteps echoing throughout the empty church. “You know, Miss Robertson, there’s a chance this place could end up in flames.”
“I believe it’s worth the risk.”
Mark returned to the spot where she waited. He leaned against the back of a pew and gazed at her, as though assessing her character.
Judith felt her skin warm under his inspection and fought back the urge to confess something. “I hope you find the people behind the arson.”
“We will. It takes time, but we’ll find them. Actually, that’s one reason I dropped by to see you tonight.”
Mark’s smile reminded Judith of a magician. He had something up his sleeve. “What’s on your mind?”
“The sheriff’s office and I would like to rig several security cameras around your church. In a way, you and Rev. Washington’s congregation are daring the arsonists to strike again. If they do, I’d love to have it all recorded.”
“Is that the best protection you can offer?”
Mark crossed his arms. “Yes, it is. Like most police departments, Sheriff Miller simply doesn’t have the manpower he needs.”
Her grandfather’s church would be as tempting as a big piece of cheese in a rat trap. But if it would catch the rat who’d destroyed four churches, it would be worth it. “You can put up cameras. Since I live nearby, I’ll be able to keep an eye on the place, too.”
Mark’s face took on a serious expression. “Being this far from the main road puts you at a disadvantage, Miss Robertson. It’ll take a long time for anyone to get out here. Have you had any threatening phone calls or letters?”
Judith bit her bottom lip. “Sort of. At the diner yesterday I met a man named Dwight Thompson. He warned me about letting Rev. Washington use the church. He was here earlier today. I was suspicious, but Dwight said he was just driving around. I think he was checking out the location.”
“I don’t suppose he made any specific threats.”
“In a way. He said it would be a shame if the church burned and that it was dangerous for me to stay here alone.”“
“Any witnesses?”
“Jacob Fraser. Do you know him?”
“I met him a few days ago. He’s been a big help.”
Jacob was helping the FBI?
“I’ll check out Dwight Thompson,” the agent said. “If he’s got a record, it may point me in the right direction.” Mark reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and retrieved a business card. “If anyone else makes a threat or if you need to get in touch with me, call my cell phone.”
Judith took the card from his outstretched fingers. “Thanks. Are you going to hide the cameras?”
“Why do you ask?”
“If it’s well-known we’ve got security cameras around the church, the arsonists might leave it alone.”
“Maybe. But criminals aren’t usually the sharpest tools in the shed. More often than not, they think they can disable the cameras or outsmart them.”
Judith took one last look at the sanctuary before turning off the light and closing the door. If only she could put some type of fireproof bubble around this dear little church. If only there was some way to stop the arson without risking what her grandfather had put in her care.
9
It wasn’t bird song that roused Judith on Sunday morning, but human voices raised in joyful songs of praise. As the sunlight streamed throug
h the open bedroom window, she strained to make out the words that drifted from her grandfather’s church on the summer breeze.
“No matter what,” a woman’s voice sang out.
“You are with me,” the choir added.
“Even in the depths of despair.”
“You are with me.”
Could her grandfather hear those happy voices lifting their song to heaven? That old church had seemed so desolate when she’d first seen it, long silent as the years passed. But now it was bursting with music and praise, the people inside charging it with new vigor.
“No matter what I face.”
“You are with me.”
The song ended with a flourish of shouts and clapping, only to be followed by a deep baritone beginning a new song.
Drawn by the music, Judith dressed, grabbed her sketchbook, and set off for the church. She slipped into the building as quietly as possible, an act that was surprisingly easy to accomplish since the entire congregation had joined in the song. She found a folding chair and scooted into a corner, intent on viewing the scene without calling notice to herself, and flipped to a blank page. Within seconds, she was drawing. First, the baby peeking at her over its father’s shoulder, then a profile of the grandmother who sat nearby, swaying in time to the music, but not singing.
She worked excitedly as her gaze flitted from one joyful face to another. These people had something Judith had often seen in her home church. Fellowship. Assurance. Bliss.
When the song came to an end, Rev. Washington stepped up to the plain pulpit and held up his Bible. “Brothers and sisters!” he called across the small church. “Are you ready to hear the word of the Lord?”
As the church members echoed their answer, Judith turned her attention to Henry. He was no longer the soft-spoken, middle-aged man she’d met. Something had transformed him, as though he’d tapped into a boundless source of energy. His dark eyes shone and his voice intensified as he spoke.
“Today friends, our lesson comes from the Book of First Peter.”
The congregation quieted, but Rev. Washington did not open his Bible. Instead he recited from memory. “‘And who is he who will harm you if you become followers of what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you are blessed. And do not be afraid of their threats, nor be troubled. But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts and always be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear; having a good conscience, that when they defame you as evildoers, those who revile your good conduct in Christ may be ashamed. For it is better, if it is the will of God, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil.’”
Judith’s pencil dashed across the page as she tried to capture the fervor in Henry’s eyes. Concern and worry fell away from his face as he spoke, making way for a genuine zeal.
“It is better to suffer for doing good,” Rev. Washington repeated, “than to do evil.”
These people certainly knew about suffering, Judith thought. Hadn’t they lost their church because of evil?
Dwight Thompson’s threats came to mind. He must have had something to do with the burning of the All Saints Community Church. Why else would he have warned her against getting involved?
Rev. Washington’s choice of scripture was right on the mark.
She would not allow herself to be troubled by Dwight’s threats.
“We can seek revenge,” Henry continued, “or we can seek the path of love.”
Judith scowled as she sketched, remembering how Dwight had advised her to remember which side she was on. As if she’d ever ally herself with his brand of hate.
“Because God is with us,” Henry concluded. “God was with us in the past. God is with us now and God will be with us in the future.”
The congregation shot to its feet, shouting in accord, and the music started again.
Time for Judith to go.
She slipped through the door and walked away unnoticed, but just before she stepped into the woods, she glanced behind her to catch one last look at the church. The music was so loud, the people inside so exultant, it seemed as though the church itself was dancing with joy. Of course, her grandfather would have approved her decision to lend the church to Henry Washington. How could anyone who witnessed the devotion of the All Saints Community Church ever doubt it?
Judith’s spirits were so high as she strolled back to her cabin, not even the sight of Jacob’s mother sitting on her porch could lessen them.
“There you are,” Emma Fraser smiled in greeting. “I knew you’d show up sooner or later.”
Judith dropped into the empty chair. “Been waiting long?”
“Not at all. Besides, I’ve been enjoying the music.”
“Isn’t it wonderful? I woke up to that glorious sound and just had to see for myself.”
“You went to Henry’s church service this morning?”
“For a little while. I wanted to make some sketches.”
“May I see?”
“Of course. Come on in.” Judith propped the screen door open with her foot and followed Emma into the cabin. “Can I offer you a soft drink?”
“That would be perfect. Thanks.”
Judith opened her sketchbook to her most recent drawings and passed it to Emma.
“Oh, Judith,” Emma gasped. “These are amazing. Look at Henry’s eyes! I’ve never seen him preach before.”
“He became a different person. Almost as if someone had plugged him in.” Judith set two glasses of cola on the kitchen table and eased into the empty chair. “So, Mrs. Fraser, what brings you out to visit?”
“Call me Emma, won’t you? I have a feeling we’re going to become great friends.” She passed a large clasp envelope across the table. “I brought the photos you wanted to borrow.”
Judith held her breath as she withdrew the precious pictures. “Thanks. I’ll make copies and get the originals back to you.”
“Take your time. Are you making an album?”
“Maybe,” Judith answered absent-mindedly, her attention riveted on the photos. “But right now I plan to use them to paint some portraits of my mother.” Judith fingered the pictures carefully, mentally cataloging them in chronological order.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
Emma’s silence brought Judith’s attention back to the woman sitting across from her. “Why do you want to paint portraits of your mother? Aren’t the photos enough?”
Realizing she’d been unintentionally rude to her guest, Judith replaced the pictures inside the envelope and concentrated on Emma. “Drawing and painting are my ways of understanding a person. I study an object or an image so closely that, after a while, I begin to get inside it. To notice things nobody else has ever seen. Then I show the rest of the world.”
“Like the fire in Henry Washington’s eyes,” Emma said.
“Exactly.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it? How you’ve come back to Piney Meadow so many years after your mother left. Rachel and I promised we’d keep in touch, but after she moved away…”
Judith watched Emma’s eyes as they focused on something too far in the past for Judith to follow. “I don’t know where my parents were married. Was their wedding in Piney Meadow?”
“Right up that path,” Emma replied with a fond smile and a nod towards the church. “We decorated that old church with white ribbons and fresh flowers. Even had a little canopy of pine boughs that your parents stood under to say their vows. When Aaron saw Rachel coming down the aisle, I thought he would burst with happiness.”
Judith had seen the photos of her parents’ wedding, but Emma’s words brought the vision to life. Her parents had married in the church her grandfather had built. A church that was now her responsibility. “Was it hard for my mother to leave Piney Meadow to move to Dallas?”
“Heavens, no. She was so much in love with your father she would have gone to the moon with that man.”
“What abo
ut my grandfather? He must have been sad to see her go.”
“No doubt,” Emma answered with a nod. “But that’s the thing about being a parent. If you do your job well, your children will be healthy and happy enough to leave you.” Emma shifted in her chair and leaned closer to Judith. “Have you decided what to do with your inheritance?”
The answer came to Judith like sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky. “From what you’ve just told me, I’m more certain than ever I won’t sell. Jacob talked to me about leasing the land. If I hire Fraser Lumber to manage it, they’ll be able to take some of the timber and I’ll still get to keep the land. That way everyone gets what they want. Right?”
“Talk to Jacob about it. He’ll do what’s best. He always has.” Emma drained her glass and pushed away from the table. “I’d better get going. Hope and Chloe are waiting for me at the house. We need to make final plans for Chloe’s birthday party. Guess what she wants for the theme.”
“Don’t tell me. Dragons?”
“You know it. We’re going to have the party in our back yard. But where I’m going to get dragon-themed party decorations is beyond me.”
“Since I got you into this mess, why don’t I take care of the decorations? I could paint some murals and some paper tablecloths.”
“Would you? Really?”
“It sounds like fun. Chloe can help.”
“Oh, Judith. You’re a lifesaver! Just wait until I tell my daughter.”
Emma stood and Judith walked with her onto the front porch. “Thanks again for the photographs. I’ll take good care of them.”
Emma slid an arm across Judith’s shoulders. “It’s so good to know you’re here. Rachel left, but you’ve come back. It feels like a complete circle.”
****
The following night, Judith brushed out her hair and studied the dress laid across her bed. She still couldn’t believe she’d actually shopped for her date with Jacob. But she’d brought only casual clothes from Dallas. Plus, she had no idea where Jacob was taking her. A new dress was definitely called for.
From The Ashes Page 11