by Diane Noble
Again, he looked surprised. “You know about him too?”
“Yes. Just that he’s connected to Davis Carr somehow.” Kate fell into step with him as they walked across the sunroom. When they reached Nehemiah, James stopped to help his old friend stand and then handed him the crutches. Renee joined them as they walked across the sunroom to the back door.
“I was sorry you fell,” James said to Nehemiah. “I saw it happen on the Webcam.”
Nehemiah patted James’ arm. “All this has given me a rear-window view of things.”
James looked confused.
Kate grinned. “Ask your mom. It’s a generational thing.”
James reached for the door, then turned to look back at them. “This bad thing I told you about...?” All three nodded. “It’s gonna happen to that old Brother John. Mr. Garfield says he’s heard about enough of him and wants to get him out of the picture for good. Seems he dresses in monk’s clothes and turns up almost every night...Interferes with the search.”
Kate’s heart fell. “Brother John? From what I heard, he may be a little crazy, but he does a lot of good things for others.”
James stepped out the door and into the night. “I’m just telling you what I heard. And also warning you to keep out of the way.”
With that, he disappeared into the rose garden.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The next morning, at a few minutes after nine, Kate pulled into Renee’s driveway, thankful that Renee had agreed the night before to continue on their mission. This time it might prove even more difficult than the previous night. It also required Caroline to participate.
Renee’s dress was much like the night before, though with more of a safari look. She was sporting a pith helmet, Bermuda shorts, and knee socks. Her photographer’s vest was again stuffed with those things she deemed necessary for the mission: insect repellent, snake-bite kit, Swiss Army knife, flashlight, and compass.
As Renee approached the car, she unfolded a piece of paper, stopped to study it, and then opened the car door, slid onto the passenger seat and closed the door. She handed the paper to Kate. It was a map, crudely drawn but readable.
“Your mother’s?”
Renee nodded. “I thought I’d have a hard time convincing her, but after I told her what James said about Brother John being hurt in some way, she couldn’t get the map on paper fast enough. It was all I could do to keep her from coming with us. She and Brother John have known each other for years.”
As they approached the area where Kate had been run off the road, she slowed the Honda, squinting against the morning sun.
“I’m assuming we take off to the left?”
“Correct. There’s a landmark. Looks like a couple of boulders, one on top of the other. A gravel road takes off from there.”
Kate spotted the boulders without any trouble, slowed to turn, then struggled to keep control of the Honda. The road was deeply rutted, with occasional rocks protruding that were difficult to avoid. She worried about the damage the road might be doing to the car’s drivetrain though she wasn’t sure what that was. She only knew that Paul talked a lot about it when they got onto rough roads. He had given her the good news, though, after the mechanic inspected the car. Her tough little Honda hadn’t been harmed and still drove beautifully.
After a little more than twenty minutes, they came to a dead end. Kate braked and slowly pulled into a wide spot where she could turn around later. Renee opened the map again, and they studied it, looking up at the terrain in front of them, then back to the map.
They finally agreed on a landmark, this time a stand of pines where the trail began, and exited the car. Renee immediately pulled out the insect repellent and covered them both with a cloud of spray.
“This is more difficult than I expected,” Kate panted after several minutes of hiking. “I’m glad I talked Nehemiah out of coming with us. He’d never have made it.”
“Same with Mama,” Renee grunted, almost dragging herself up the incline. “But one wouldn’t expect a hermit to put in a sidewalk to his lean-to.”
Kate grinned. “Right now, I’d provide the supplies to do it.”
They stopped again to examine the map, and Kate prayed they were on the right trail. Everything seemed to blend together, as if they were going in circles. They passed a small stream twice, and it looked exactly the same both times—stands of willows and stepping-stones to get them across the water.
After another brief climb, the path led them to an incline winding back and forth in hairpin switchbacks. When they descended there was a small clearing, but no sign of a continuing path.
Kate stopped and frowned, looked at the map again, then turned slowly, looking for any sign of a path. She shook her head.
Meantime, Renee walked to the edge of the clearing, pushing branches aside, kneeling to study the ground. Still, she seemed as exasperated as Kate felt. Even using her imagination, Kate couldn’t see a hint of a trail.
“Check the map again,” she said, handing it to Renee. “Your mother drew a legend; just noticed it. Check out the acorn.” She laughed at the whimsical touch. “Look beyond where we are now to something that looks like a giant acorn in the distance. I’m thinking we should head toward a large oak tree, or perhaps even a large stand of them.”
“I don’t see an acorn,” Renee said. Renee’s demeanor was nearly always contrary, so Kate hadn’t expected any less out in the wilderness.
“What do you suggest then?”
Renee frowned, then looked back at the map. “Right here. I’ve got it.” She checked her compass. “Just to the left, or south, of that stand. Wait. That does look like an acorn. That’s where we’ll head....”
Kate swallowed a smile. That’s what she’d hoped Renee would say.
They walked another half mile or so, carefully studying the ground for any sign of a path. They came over a rise, and before them, at last, they saw a large, ancient-looking live oak with branches the size of most oaks’ trunks. They looked at each other, grinned, and headed toward it.
As soon as they passed the oak tree, the trail widened.
Kate sighed, relieved. Surely they were almost there. Her arthritic knee hurt, her joints ached, and the fumes from the bug spray were giving her a headache.
They rounded an outcropping of stones, at its apex a blackened tree that had been struck by lightning.
“I remember that,” Renee said, panting as she tried to keep up with Kate. “I don’t have the energy to pull the map out and look, but I’m sure it’s there.”
Kate huffed and puffed right along with Renee as they crested a steep hill. Then she halted midstep, dumbfounded.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kate let out a slow whistle. “Oh my, take a look at that.”
Still panting, Renee stopped beside her. “That’s impossible. That surely can’t be Brother John’s place. It’s not a lean-to with a corrugated iron roof, which is how I pictured it. It’s not even just a little cabin. It’s...” Words seemed to fail her.
“It’s amazing,” Kate finished for her. “That’s the only word I can think of to describe it.”
Renee fished the map out of one of her pockets. “This can’t be it. I’m certain we’ve come to somebody’s hunting lodge...probably belongs to some rich person in Nashville or something. Maybe a country Western singer. I’ve heard they’ve all got places like this.”
“With a vegetable garden and a chapel?”
“Well, you never know. I once heard that Elvis...”
Kate held up her hand. “Wait. I hear someone coming...”
There was a rustling in the brush, and Kate’s breath caught in her throat. It was a doe with two spotted fawns. They stopped and looked at her, moved their luminous brown-eyed gaze to Renee, then walked slowly back into the foliage.
“Did you see that?” Renee whispered.
“What a welcome, no matter whose place it is,” Kate said.
They started down the hillside toward the
clearing that surrounded a small cluster of buildings. They had almost reached the outskirts of the compound when Kate stopped again, wondering at the sense of peace these buildings seemed to offer.
The A-frame in the center of the cluster drew Kate’s attention upward. Its roof tapered sharply toward the sky. Both ends were made of clear glass from floor to ceiling, and a large rustic cross, constructed of logs, stood not twenty feet away from the far end, visible even from where they stood. To one side of the chapel was a small cabin, and on the other, a small meadow beside a barnlike structure. Interspersed among the buildings were gardens—both vegetable and flower.
After a moment, the women continued on the trail until they reached the clearing. The only sound was that of birdsong and wind in the pines. Kate’s fatigue was so great that she almost fell backward as she sat down on a log that had been fashioned into a chair in front of the chapel. Renee did the same.
They had just seated themselves when the cabin door opened and a man stepped out. At first he walked slowly toward them, solemnly leaning against his walking stick, then as he drew closer and seemed to recognize them, he smiled. He carried a thermos-type pitcher and two glasses.
“Most people are pretty thirsty when they get this far,” he said. “Sometimes they don’t bring enough water with them in those little plastic bottles. Would you care for a drink?” He didn’t wait for an answer but poured the water and handed them each a glass. They gulped thirstily, then laughed as he refilled their glasses.
“Welcome, Kate Hanlon,” he said after a moment, meeting Kate’s eyes.
She noticed the kindness in his gaze and stood to shake his extended hand. “How did you know my name?”
He chuckled. “You’re the minister’s wife at Faith Briar, isn’t that correct?”
She nodded.
“I suppose word just gets around, even to old hermits like me. Were you hurt when your car was run off the road the other day?”
Kate shook her head. “No.”
“I didn’t think so. But I stayed long enough to make sure. Even after you returned to your car, I waited to see that you were able to get safely onto the road.”
His expression was filled with compassion as he turned to Renee. “Renee Lambert,” he said, “welcome. I always knew you would come here someday.”
Renee gave Kate a confused look, then turned again to the hermit. “What do you mean...How did you know? You don’t even seem surprised to see us.”
“I’m not.” He laughed. “No one told me either of you were coming. But you, Renee, I knew you would stop by if for no other reason than curiosity.”
“It has something to do with my mother, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t answer but instead indicated that they should follow him into the chapel. “It’s cooler in here,” he explained as he opened the side door.
It was peaceful and refreshing inside. Kate stood utterly still in the center aisle. She could still hear the soft music of birdsong and pine breeze, but it was the cross outside the glass floor-to-ceiling window that made her want to fall on her knees. Or at least take off her shoes.
She looked up at Brother John. “Did you design this?”
He nodded. “Years ago, though it’s still a work in progress.”
“It’s beautiful. But what’s unfinished?”
“The cross. Every year we do a little more work on it.” He smiled. “On the side you can’t see, we create tiny spaces, actually nesting places for the spring birds, sparrows mostly. Then in the winter, we clean them out and make them ready for the next year’s flock.”
“His eye is on the sparrow,” Kate breathed, her heart ready to soar with the melody of one of her favorite hymns as tears stung her eyes.
He broke into her thoughts. “I know you’ve sought me out for a reason, and I will be happy to answer whatever questions you may have.”
He sat down beside Kate on one of the hand-carved chairs at the rear of the sanctuary. Renee had already taken a seat nearby. After a few minutes of silence, Kate noticed that Brother John never seemed in a hurry.
He looked at Kate. “I know why you’ve come.”
“You do?”
“I saw you that day at the grand opening. You noticed my connection with two people also in attendance that day. You’re wondering about that connection, and I suspect it has to do with your interest in the old Victorian house.”
Kate was surprised by his perception. “My friend Livvy is worried about her son, who is caught up in something that may be illegal. It has to do with Davis Carr and Clive Garfield. James is scared and doing what they say because of a threat they’re holding over him.”
Brother John nodded but didn’t speak.
“I’ve felt that you were connected to all this somehow. Then last night I discovered that you’re the monk who visits the museum from time to time.”
He surprised her by throwing back his head and laughing. “So they’ve figured that out.” He wiped his eyes. “Took them long enough! How many decades?” He laughed heartily again. “Not fast, but not bad, either.”
“You’ve known the family that long?”
“Not the whole family, but I’ve known Davy—Davis—that long. His cousin Clive wasn’t born until 1959, ten years after I first met Davy, Clive’s parents, and his other brothers and sisters.”
“How...?” Kate began.
“Wait a minute,” Renee interrupted. “I’ve known about your friendship with my mother. But she’s been pretty closed-mouth about the details. I think I deserve a little edge on the storytelling right now. Let’s hear that part of the story first.”
He looked at Renee kindly. “They’re connected. Both my story about Davy and my story about your mother, who is a fine, fine woman, by the way—and always has been.”
Renee and Kate exchanged glances with each other, then looked back to Brother John.
“That’s what we came here for,” Kate said gently, “to hear your stories.”
“And I, for one, am not leaving until I hear about Mama,” Renee said. Though her tone was softer than her words.
“Caroline and I met while we were helping the town get through an epidemic of diphtheria,” he said. “I admired her more than anyone else I knew. She was beautiful—everyone was aware of that—but she was beautiful inside as well. Utterly tireless when it came to helping the sick and the dying.
“I used to watch her minister to others with such kindness that it was catching—not just to me but to others. She would sit by the sick, holding their hands and singing to them softly. Your daddy had come home from the war a changed man, and when she wasn’t working with those sick from diphtheria, she was worrying over him, hoping and praying he would get over some of his experiences from the war.” He smiled gently. “God answered our prayers. It took some time, but your daddy soon got through his dark valley, largely because of your mother’s love and devotion—a reflection of God’s love for him.
“But I’m getting ahead of myself. While your mama was pouring all the love she had into your father’s heart, a little boy arrived in town. A little boy named Davy Carr. Caroline was tirelessly caring for your father, nursing him back to emotional and physical health. Though her heart was ready to care for one more sick little boy, she didn’t have the energy.
“She came to me and told me about the young lad who was in desperate need and asked me to take over his care. Another woman had been there day and night—Rose was her name—but she had to leave.” His eyes softened at the memory. “Rose Jacobs.”
“Nehemiah’s bride,” Kate breathed as pieces of the puzzle began fitting together, “who was here on her honeymoon.”
“The same,” Brother John said. “Can you imagine giving up something so special to take care of a child in need? When Rose left, Caroline had just finished working with another family and took over the child’s care for a while. Her heart nearly broke when she learned his story.
“He’d been bundled off to his uncle in Copper Mill in
the hope that he would adopt him, or perhaps take him in for a while—at least that’s what we thought at first.”
“I learned later,” Brother John went on, “that Davy’s mother sent him purposely to stay with his uncle to find out about a legend that came from her side of the family.”
Kate gasped.
“You know about the legend, then?”
She nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t know you did.”
He smiled at Renee. “I can see on your face that you know about them as well.”
“Them?”
He laughed. “Your expression is as transparent as your mother’s always has been. The diamonds. You’ve found them, haven’t you?”
Kate looked at Renee, then back to Brother John. “Just last night. One bag.”
“Ah yes, the last bag,” he said. “Did you put it back?”
“Of course,” Renee said indignantly.
He chuckled and held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to imply that you might have thought of keeping them for yourself. With your mother’s genes, I knew better than that.”
“I was about to say that we had to. We didn’t want to get caught with them on our person, so to speak.”
He gave her a small smile. “Follow me. I have something to show you.”
He led them back outside, across a small meadow near the vegetable garden, and into the barn. At one end appeared to be a workbench with barrels of stones of different shapes. On a shelf just above the bench were cut geodes, their crystal interiors sparkling in the light from a nearby window. Noticing Kate’s interest, he took one down and placed it in her hands.
She turned it over, felt the rough, plain exterior, then held the crystals to the light, bringing the geode closer to her eyes to take in the rainbow hues that cast dancing lights on the rough-hewn wood of the barn walls.
“You can’t tell a book from its cover,” Brother John said, taking it from her and placing it on the shelf. “Just like geodes and people.”
On the top shelf were large, industrial-sized mayonnaise jars filled with glittering stones. Again, Brother John followed her gaze. “Those you found were uncut. I’m rather a rock hound—and have gotten into the cutting of precious and semiprecious stones. I’m always looking for the unique cut that will bring out the greatest brilliance. Those jars, if you’re wondering, have stones in them that I’ve brought out year after year, from the Victorian.”