Hope was right behind her. “Oh, Judith. How can I ever thank you for helping today?” Hope asked. “Did you see how happy my little girl was?”
Judith ran water into the sink and began to rinse off a large platter. “She’s eight years old now. Not so little.”
Hope took the platter and placed it in the dishwasher. “You’re right. But part of me wants to keep her young. Keep her safe at home.”
Jacob came in, carrying the remains of the birthday cake. “Need any help?”
“Not in here,” Hope answered. “But if you could get Chloe to calm down, that would be great.”
Jacob stepped behind Judith, laid his hands on her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head. “You doing OK?”
Judith flicked water from the sink towards his face. “Sure.”
Jacob smiled, squeezed her shoulders, and left the kitchen.
Hope bumped Judith’s hip with hers. “I’m so glad you came to Piney Meadow, Judith. And I’m not talking about your ability to make party decorations.”
Hope was talking about Jacob, but Judith wasn’t ready to share the quiet joy that warmed her heart whenever she thought about a future with him. “Chloe’s such a special little girl. Her imagination is limitless.”
“True, but I was talking about my baby brother. Ever since he came back from Houston, he’s been restless, like he’s searching for something he just can’t find.”
“Jacob told me about what happened.”
“He still blames himself for the death of that hostage. I guess he always will.”
“Do you think he misses being a police officer?”
“He says no. He wanted to try his wings, to prove to himself and to us that he could make it on his own. He never talks about returning to law enforcement, but I think he misses it.” Hope handed Judith another dirty dish. “But now that you’re here, he’s got his mind on just one thing. You, Miss Judith Robertson. You.”
“I’m sure he thinks about other things. Work, for example.”
“Oh, work is work. Has he proposed yet?”
Judith dropped the cup she was holding, splashing suds onto her face.
Hope laughed and wiped Judith’s cheek. “Now that was an interesting reaction.”
Judith used the back of her wrist to push a stray curl away from her face. “Doesn’t anybody in this town mind their own business?”
“All right, Judith, I’ll stop talking about your love life. But I’m just saying that if you became part of this family, I wouldn’t mind one little bit. Now, where did my husband get to?” Hope started the dishwasher and stepped outside.
Judith finished tidying the kitchen. As she worked, Judith wondered what it would be like if she became part of the Fraser family. She’d have to leave her father, but he’d be retiring from the bank in a few years. Perhaps he’d move closer once he no longer worked five days a week.
A family of her own was one of the many things she’d given up when she’d yielded to fear, yet the Frasers were a large, boisterous, and loving clan.
Judith went in search of Jacob. She found him stretched out on the floor of the den watching one of the videos Chloe had received as a present. The birthday girl snuggled next to him, her head resting on his stomach and the stuffed dragon Judith had bought her clutched in her arms. A movie princess sang merrily about finding her one true love.
Stepping closer, Judith realized that both uncle and niece were sound asleep. She hated to wake them, so she curled up on the couch to watch the movie. Hope entered a few minutes later, smiled at the sleeping pair, and bent to wake her daughter.
The motion woke Jacob instead. “What? I got her. She’s OK,” he said sleepily.
“Time to take the birthday girl home,” Hope answered.
Jacob eased away from Chloe, then stood and stretched. “I’ll put her in the car.” He effortlessly hoisted the sleeping child. Cradling his niece in his arms, he left the room with Hope tagging along behind him.
Judith’s heart tripped and fell at the sight of Jacob’s gentle strength. How in the world had she caught the attention of a man such as Jacob? And why couldn’t she accept what he offered without misgivings?
****
It was twilight by the time Jacob and Judith headed back to the cabin.
Something was on her mind and the uneasy feeling in Jacob’s gut told him he wasn’t going to like it. But he’d never been one to put off a problem until tomorrow if it could be solved today. No sooner had they arrived at the cabin than Jacob had Judith’s hand, leading her to the rocking chairs on the front porch.
Judith eased into the other chair and covered her yawn with her free hand. “It’s been so peaceful this week, I’m beginning to think Dwight Thompson has changed his mind.”
That would be an answer to many prayers, but Jacob didn’t think this awful business was finished. “Thanks again for helping with Chloe’s party.”
“I enjoyed it.”
Jacob raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“OK, OK,” Judith said with a chuckle. “I enjoyed most of it.”
Jacob’s heart tightened, but he plunged ahead with the question. “Think you’ll ever get used to my family?”
Judith withdrew her hand and crossed her arms, but didn’t respond. After several long seconds, she rose from the chair and leaned against the porch railing, her back to Jacob. “I want to get used to your family,” she said in a small voice. “When I was a girl, my father used to take me downtown to see the Christmas decorations in the store windows. My favorites were the miniature cities. I wanted to shrink myself and live in those wonderlands where everyone was happy and feathery snow fell outside my window. Sometimes I feel that way about your family.”
“You want to be part of them?”
“Yes, but, at the same time, it feels as impossible as that old Christmas wish.”
“It’s not impossible, Judith. All you’ve got to do is say yes.”
Judith raked a hand through her hair, pulling her curls behind her head. “Every time I think about what you’re offering, every time I catch myself yearning to return to my sheltered life in Dallas, I hear one phrase repeated over and over. ‘Be of good courage’. There are so many places where that phrase appears in the Bible. ‘Be of good courage’. I’ve discovered that having courage doesn’t mean the absence of fear. It means doing something even though you’re afraid.”
“What are you afraid of, Judith?”
Judith turned to face him. “Are you kidding me? I’m afraid of the violence that’s hanging over my head like a pendulum on a thread. I’m afraid of Beverly or Keneisha being hurt because of me. I’m afraid of disappointing you.”
“How could you disappoint me?”
“By not living up to what you want from me. I want to believe that I have the kind of courage it takes to be a good wife and mother, but what if I don’t? You wouldn’t believe how noisy it is inside my head. The voices of doubt keep up a constant chatter. Then I hear, ‘Be of good courage.’” Judith let out a noisy sigh. “It’s exhausting.”
Jacob rose to stand beside her. “I know how to get the voices of doubt to shut up.”
“Please tell me.”
“Remind them that you’ve always had courage.”
“Well, that’s not quite true.”
“I think it is. I know the trauma of your mother’s death made you doubt your bravery, but a person who’s ruled by fear wouldn’t risk violence just so a congregation could have a place to worship. A person without courage wouldn’t stand up to the jerks that ran you off the road and put you in the hospital. You’re still here, Judith. Don’t tell me you’re not brave.”
“I’m not so sure that’s courage as much as anger.”
“That’s righteous anger, Judith. A fearful person runs when threatened. A courageous person gets angry. Hate and injustice should make you angry, should make you stand and fight.”
Judith didn’t respond.
Was this the stumbling block that kept
Judith from embracing the future he offered? Would her doubts ruin his hopes? “Are you still going to Henry’s service tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Then don’t tell me you’re not courageous. You know how the hate groups will feel about you attending Henry’s church, but you’re going anyway.”
“I’m going to show that running me off the road or burning my barn won’t keep me from helping Henry’s congregation. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a big kettle and it’s getting hotter every day. Sooner or later, it’ll boil over.”
Jacob almost wished the arsonists would make their next move. Better to catch them and stop the violence than to keep wondering when they would strike. “I’d go with you to Henry’s service, but I promised I’d serve as usher tomorrow. I’d hate to leave them short-handed.”
“It’s OK. If something happens, it’ll be at night, not in the middle of the service.”
“You’re probably right. Still, I’d feel better if I could tie you to my belt loop and carry you with me.”
Judith made a face. “That doesn’t sound very comfortable for either one of us.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Speaking of which, it’s getting dark. I’ll walk you over to Beverly’s house.”
****
If Judith went to Henry’s church service, she’d be setting herself up as a target. Those words echoed in her brain as she dressed for church the next day. Part of her wanted to stand her ground, to look into Dwight Thompson’s eyes and say, “Bring it on.” But she was frightened. As much as she wanted to deny the truth, her stomach quivered at the thought of another act of violence lodged against her new friends or herself.
She swept through the back door and made her way along the well-worn path towards the church. As she drew closer, she could hear the joyful voices of men and women as they greeted each other.
“How are you this morning, sister?”
“Are you feeling better, brother?”
The members of Rev. Washington’s church formed a loving family and Sunday mornings were their reunions. No wonder Henry had wanted a place for them to meet.
Just before Judith stepped into the church, she stopped to touch the worn wooden siding. Hundreds of believers had passed this way before her. Her grandparents, her own mother and father, and now her new friends. A surge of happiness rose in her chest when she thought about the lineage of believers who had built, maintained, and shared the humble building.
Now it was her turn. She could almost hear her grandfather’s voice urging her on as a vision of her mother’s gentle smile came to mind.
“You gonna stand there all day or you gonna go in and hear some music?”
Judith grinned at the sound of Beverly’s voice and turned to see Keneisha and her mother. “Are you in a hurry?”
“Heavens yes, I’m in a hurry. I’ve got some powerful praying to do today.”
“Can I sit with you, Judith?” Keneisha asked.
Judith reached for the girl’s hand. “Of course. There isn’t anybody else I’d rather sit with.”
Keneisha beamed her special smile and skipped into the church, pulling Judith with her. As the girl led Judith towards the front pew, familiar faces greeted her.
Many of the women hugged her, several of the men voiced their regret at the loss of her barn. Their welcome was so warm, their words so sincere, that Judith soon settled into their loving acceptance and forgot she was the outsider.
After several minutes of noisy conversation, the sound of the electric piano signaled the boisterous crowd to find their seats.
A lone woman stood in front of the choir and sang a single line.
The congregation responded with calls of “Sing it, sister” and “Amen.”
The woman’s stirring voice lifted the slow, heartfelt melody to heaven.
The choir joined the soloist.
The tempo increased and soon the congregation was on its feet, clapping and singing their affirmation of the hymn.
Keneisha danced in the aisle, her joy so contagious that Judith couldn’t hold back. She clapped her hands and smiled as the music filled her heart.
One song followed another until the congregation took a communal deep breath and settled in for Henry’s sermon.
Rev. Washington stepped into the pulpit. “Brothers and sisters,” he began, “this is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
“Amen!”
“Let us take a moment for silent prayer.”
Judith glanced furtively at the worshippers. Some bowed their heads in quiet thought, others lifted their faces to the ceiling, their hands open as if prepared to receive whatever fell into them.
Rev. Washington raised his head, looked at the congregation, and smiled. “Today, I draw my lesson from Philippians. ‘Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.’”
“Be anxious for nothing,” Henry repeated. “There it is in the word of God. Be anxious for nothing. We all know that Miss Judith’s barn was burned a few nights ago and we all know about her accident.”
Judith looked at Beverly, who sat with the choir behind Henry. Beverly raised her eyebrows and Judith nodded. They both knew it hadn’t been an accident.
“And,” Henry continued, “we all know that this old church is the next likely target.”
A murmur of concern passed through the worshippers, and Henry waited until the congregation had quieted. “But we are supposed to be anxious for nothing. Now, I know that’s not an easy thing to do. Worrying about the little things and the big things that trouble us is human nature. But let’s don’t forget what the rest of this verse says.” Henry paused. The light came into his eyes.
Keneisha slid her small hand through Judith’s arm and snuggled against her side.
“By prayer and supplication,” Henry said, his voice rising in timbre, “let your requests be made known to God. We know the power of prayer. We’ve felt it many times before. We’ve seen the results many times before. And I have faith, brothers and sisters, that prayer will work for us again.”
“But,” Henry went on, “what is it we’re praying for? To protect this church? To punish those who try to terrorize us? Or do we pray for the strength to stand firm in the face of hatred and to turn the other cheek?”
The congregation responded.
Henry resumed. “How many of us have prayed for the arsonists who destroyed our church?”
The sound of dissent moved through the congregation.
A stone of uneasiness lodged itself in Judith’s stomach and she squirmed in her pew.
Keneisha, as if commiserating with Judith’s discomfort, squeezed her arm.
Judith smiled back and covered the girl’s hand with hers.
“I know,” Henry said. “You don’t have to tell me how hard that is. It’s easy to pray for ourselves or for those we love, but praying for our enemies is a whole different ball game. So why does our Lord ask us to pray for those who want to harm us?”
Henry paused, as though giving his listeners time to form an answer to his question. When he continued, his voice was gentle. “I believe the reason we’re called to pray for our enemies is because doing so makes a change in us. Praying for our enemies takes us out of our self-centered worlds and forces us to think of someone else. So instead of asking the Lord to protect this little church building, maybe you should be asking Him to change the arsonists’ hearts.”
Henry continued his message, but Judith’s mind was stuck on his suggestion. She’d definitely been guilty of self-centered prayers. Every day she asked the Lord for courage and guidance, and not once had she prayed for the arsonists and Dwight Thompson.
Keneisha pulled on Judith’s arm. “One more song and then it’s over, and not a minute too soon. I’m starving.”
Judith stood with the other worshippers and clapped along to one final, rousing hymn.
But as the me
n and women filed out of the small sanctuary, an unnatural hush fell upon the crowd.
When she finally made her way through the door, Judith saw the reason for the tension.
Dwight Thompson and his two brothers leaned against the fenders of their trucks, their arms crossed in lazy defiance.
Judith strode towards Dwight, hot words forming on her tongue. The church sat on her private property, and he had no right to trespass. But a hand on her shoulder held her back.
Rev. Washington’s face was calm, his voice determined. “Let us handle this, Miss Judith.”
She saw the men of the congregation walking slowly towards them.
Henry stepped towards Dwight and his brothers as the men of the congregation formed two phalanxes on either side of their preacher.
“Good morning,” Henry began.
“Morning,” Dwight answered.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
“No, I don’t believe so. I just came out to see how Isaiah’s granddaughter is doing.”
Judith touched the shoulder of the man next to Henry, and he moved to let her through. “I’m doing quite well,” she said, her chin held high. “No thanks to you.”
A slow smile slithered across Dwight’s mouth. “I heard about your barn.”
Judith glared at him, but didn’t take the bait.
Dwight’s sly smile never faltered. “It would be a shame if someone burned this old church, too.”
Judith closed the distance between herself and Dwight and leaned in. “Go ahead, you bully. Burn it. Nothing will stop these people and nothing will stop me.”
Dwight glanced at each of his brothers, and then chuckled. “You sure got a short fuse, little lady. But things would be a lot easier for you if you’d remember what color you are. Blacks and whites weren’t meant to mix. Says so in the Bible.”
Judith knew there was no such scripture. “Jesus didn’t preach hate. Is your fight with me or them?” she asked, gesturing to Henry’s congregation with a nod of her head.
“Who said I was here to fight? I just came out to check on you. When I didn’t find you at the cabin, I figured you might be here. Sorry to see I was right.”
From The Ashes Page 20