Kim Sawyer
Page 26
She dashed between rows of towering trees that sent branches like reaching fingers toward the star-sprinkled sky. She emerged in a grassy field, and her race became hindered by knee-high grass. Grunting in frustration—she must find God!—she forged forward, and her foot slammed into an immovable object. She fell face-first into the cushion of thick dried grass with her legs draped across something hard and cold. The stone foundation, waiting like an open embrace beneath the moonlit sky.
Her lungs burning, unable to pull herself to standing on her trembling legs, she twisted around and collapsed with her arms and head resting on the length of cold, rough stone. Her fingers curled around the edge of one portion of the foundation, and warm tears washed down her cheeks—the first tears she’d allowed herself to shed since she was a little girl. There, all alone, she pressed her face to the solid, enduring foundation.
As she lay there, chest heaving and heart aching, the opening lines from a hymn they’d sung in the chapel at Shay’s Ford winged through her memory. How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is laid for your faith in His excellent Word! She shifted slightly, the stone abrasive against her cheek, as another line echoed through her heart. Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
One of Maelle’s gentle lessons from long ago crept into Libby’s mind: Darling girl, when you ask Jesus to be your Savior, then God becomes your Father. You’ll be His and He’ll be yours for all eternity.
“O Jesus, save me, please . . .” The words groaned from her throat. “Please, be my God, my Father.”
And as another rush of tears poured down her face, Libby finally opened her soul to the One the song proclaimed would be with her. Her worry for Jackson, her concern for Maelle and the twins, her heartache for Petey’s burden—everything poured out in a torrent of tearful pleas.
“Please don’t take Jackson from Maelle—she loves him so dearly.
Please don’t let Hannah and Hester lose yet another father—they need him, Lord! And please . . . Please . . . Petey . . .” She gulped, her throat aching so badly she could barely speak. “He’s already had to bear so much. He’s served You faithfully despite it all. Please save Jackson so Petey won’t have to carry the guilt of his death. Please, God. Please . . . Please . . .”
As she prayed, a comforting presence flooded Libby’s frame. A feeling of peace and assurance—unlike anything she’d known before—filled her from the inside out. In wonder, she lifted her face to the star-laden sky. “You’re here, aren’t You, God? That means . . . I’ve finally found You. Oh Lord, thank You!”
She buried her face again, more tears flowing. Cleansing tears. Grateful tears. She had no idea how long she clung to the stone foundation, inwardly praising the One who held Petey, Maelle, Jackson—and her—in His capable hands, but when the tears finally ceased she pushed herself into a seated position. With her hips pressed securely against the stone, she marveled at the change that had taken place deep inside herself. A new awareness gripped her as surely as the stone foundation now supported her tired body. Just as this stone foundation remained despite the building’s destruction, so God remained—immovable, strong, sure—when all else seemed lost. How could she have been so blind as to look past Him? She’d searched so hard . . . and He’d been there all the time, simply waiting for her to stop running and fall into His arms.
The old Libby would have packed a bag and raced to the train station to go to Petey and Maelle. The old Libby wouldn’t have been able to rest, not knowing how Jackson fared. But oddly, Libby had no desire to go to her friends. She merely wanted to remain there, in God’s embrace, trusting Him to meet the needs of the people she held dear. Sitting there, content and at peace, she pressed her hands to her chest, feeling her strong heartbeat below. A smile curved her lips. “God, I know You’re here. I feel You in my every heartbeat.” She gulped, fresh tears flooding her eyes and making the stars swim. “Thank you for making me Yours.”
When she looked toward the cloudless sky, the moon, round and yellow, smiled down from its perch. Libby sighed, her breath hanging on the night air. A chill shook her body. It was late— Alice-Marie and Bennett would be worried if she didn’t return soon. She sent a tremulous smile upward. “We’ll talk again, soon.” Now that she realized God listened and cared, she would speak to Him often.
Gathering her skirts, she got to her feet and returned to her room. Alice-Marie was pacing the floor like a caged tiger. The moment Libby slipped through the door, she rushed at her and threw her arms around her.
“Oh, Libby! Thank goodness you’ve come back! Bennett is packing his bag. I’ve already started packing for you. He said he’d call the train station and find out when the next train for Clayton is due to depart, and—”
“I’m not going.”
Alice-Marie pulled back. “W-what?”
Libby gave her roommate a smile and crossed to her bed. She pushed the open suitcase aside and sat on the mattress. Linking her fingers in her lap, she released a sigh. “I’m staying here.”
“But . . . but . . .” Alice-Marie sank onto her bed, staring at Libby mutely.
Libby reached out and took her roommate’s hand. “Alice-Marie, there is absolutely nothing I can do for Jackson and Maelle or Petey right now. I’m weak and powerless. But God is strong.” The peace that had surrounded her at the base of the stone foundation washed over her again, lifting her heart and bringing a smile to her face. “I’ve placed my friends into His keeping, and I trust Him to care for them.” A little laugh trickled out, joyous and light. How freeing it was to trust God! “He is there, and that is enough.”
Alice-Marie shook her head, as if confused. “Are you sure?”
Although Libby knew her roommate was asking if she was certain she didn’t want to go to Clayton, Libby chose to substantiate her final statement. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Alice-Marie sighed, her shoulders wilting. “Then I’ll send a message to Bennett, letting him know you’d rather not go.” She rose and headed for the door. But before she left the room, she peeked back at Libby. “You seem . . . different somehow.”
Libby tipped her head, curious. Was it possible for Alice-Marie to see, on the surface, what had transpired in her heart? Even though she waited, Alice-Marie didn’t explain. With another little shake of her head, her roommate slipped out the door.
What had happened to Libby? Many times during the past two days, Bennett had puzzled over his friend’s strange behavior. In his cynical moments, he accused her of walking in her sleep; at other times, he envied her calm acceptance of everything going on in Clayton. Each time they met, she asked if he’d heard anything about Jackson, and with each negative report he expected her to clench her fists, growl in frustration, or declare she simply had to go to Clayton. But even though he saw worry flash in her eyes, something indescribable always chased it away.
Libby just wasn’t Libby anymore. And he couldn’t decide if that pleased or aggravated him.
At noon on Friday, he met Alice-Marie for lunch, always an agreeable diversion. But even Alice-Marie mentioned Libby’s change in attitude. “I can’t put my finger on it, but she’s not acting like herself. I’m really quite concerned for her. I think this situation with Pete and his family has driven her into a kind of madness.”
“Madness?”
“Well, how else can you explain it? She’s started reading her Bible each day—until this week, I didn’t even know she owned one! I’ve caught her several times on her knees praying, and there’s something in her eyes—a kind of dreamy expression that defies description. She’s only huffed at me once in the past three days! If that doesn’t mean something is amiss, then I don’t know what does.”
Two people at the table behind Bennett began arguing about who would win the pennant that year, their voices drowning out everything else in the room.
Bennett grabbed Alice-Marie’s hand. “C’mon. It’s too noisy in here. Let’s tak
e a walk.”
“In this weather?”
He had to admit, being outdoors had lost much of its appeal. With Thanksgiving only a week away, fall had swooped in with gray skies, chilling winds, and occasional rainstorms. But the walls of the dining hall felt confining—he needed space.
“You can wear my jacket over your sweater, and I’ll hold you close.” He winked, smiling when she giggled and blushed. “Let’s go.”
They remained on the paved walkways rather than strolling across the grass. The recent rains had left the ground soggy, and Alice-Marie wanted to protect her shoes from patches of mud. As he’d promised, he tugged her snug against his side, but he admitted the closeness was as much for him as for her—warmth radiated from her body, staving off the cold.
Other students passed them. Everyone—men and women alike—smiled and nodded at him. Bennett found himself strutting. His popularity had doubled since word circulated naming him as the instigator in Roy’s humiliation. None of the others involved had openly admitted their part in the prank, but he didn’t mind. He’d take full credit, even if Roy plotted revenge. At least Roy had stopped pursuing Libby and stopped bothering other students so much.
Alice-Marie shivered and wriggled even closer to his side. “Are you going home for Thanksgiving, Bennett?”
Bennett had assumed he and Libby would return to Shay’s Ford. He hoped Pete would be there, too—and Jackson. “Probably.” He smiled down at her. “Why? Were you hopin’ I’d come to your house instead?”
Her face flooded with color. He should stop talking like this— he was giving her ideas. Now that he’d won over several of the Beta Theta Pi men, assuring his place in the fraternity despite Roy’s objections, he had no need to keep company with her. Besides that, with his increased status around campus, he could snag any girl he wanted. Be a lot more fun to play the field than stick with one. Yet he couldn’t seem to separate himself from Alice-Marie.
She bumped him with her elbow and gave him one of her simpering smiles. “I’m sure Caroline would adore showing you off to her mama and papa. Maybe you’d rather spend Thanksgiving with her.”
Bennett growled, baring his teeth, which only made Alice-Marie laugh. “You know better than that.” Tomorrow he’d endure his promised trip to the drugstore with the plain-faced girl, and then he’d be done with her. Good riddance, too. Her moony looks across the dining hall or from the other side of the lawn tried his patience.
Alice-Marie sighed. Her breath formed a little cloud that hung in front of them for a few seconds. The air was cooler than Bennett had realized. His hands were starting to feel numb. He slipped the one resting on Alice-Marie’s waist into the pocket of his jacket, which hung from her shoulders. With a slight push of his torso, he steered her toward the women’s dormitory. He’d deposit her in Rhodes Hall so he could reclaim his jacket. He needed it.
She offered him another secretive look, her strides narrowing until he was forced to slow his steps. “I know you can’t come for Thanksgiving—it’s such a short break and you’ll want to go be with your friends at the orphans’ school—but might you consider spending a few days of the Christmas holiday in Clayton?” Pink stained her cheeks, and Bennett suspected the color was unrelated to the cold air that brushed their faces. “I truly would like for Mother and Daddy to get to know you. The short minutes you and Pete were at the house last weekend didn’t give them sufficient time to become acquainted.”
What would Alice-Marie’s parents think of him? She hadn’t been put off by his orphan status or unknown lineage, but would her parents accept him, just for himself? Uncertain what to say, Bennett chose to tease. “My, my, Miss Daley, aren’t you the bold one. I didn’t think fine-bred girls were supposed to be so forward.”
Her lips pinched into a displeased line. She stepped out from under his arm. “I apologize if I seemed forward. I didn’t realize a simple invitation would be misconstrued as presumption.”
Bennett laughed. Her sassy response reminded him of how Libby used to react to his teasing. How they’d loved to spar. Would that impertinent side of Lib return when they’d finally received word about Jackson’s condition?
With her nose in the air, Alice-Marie huffed, “And if you’re going to be rude enough to laugh at me, then perhaps I shall withdraw my invitation. There!” She frowned up at him, her eyes snapping. “Now what do you say?”
Bennett didn’t say anything. Instead, he tipped his head downward with the full intention to plant a kiss on her saucy lips. Kissing was always better than arguing. But before he could make contact, a cry split the air.
“Bennett!”
He jerked upright, expecting to find Caroline shrieking on the sidewalk. Instead, Libby raced toward them. She waved a telegram. Tears streamed down her face. He stepped away from Alice-Marie. The sight of Lib’s tears almost stopped his heart. It must be awful news if Libby was crying.
Holding her shoulders, he peered into her tear-damp face. “Is it Jackson? Is he—”
“He’s going to be fine!” A sob choked off her voice. Shaking her head, she gazed at him in wonder. “God saved him, Bennett! He heard our prayers, and He saved him!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
God saved him! God saved him!”
Libby’s words echoed through Bennett’s head so loud and strong they made his ears ring. He released Libby and stepped backward, forcing a reply through clenched teeth. “That’s great, Lib.” He reached blindly, snagged the sleeve of his jacket, and yanked it from Alice-Marie’s shoulders.
Alice-Marie released a displeased yelp, but he ignored her protest and jammed his arms into the sleeves. He turned and strode toward the men’s dormitory. An unnamed fury made him pound his feet against the concrete, the solid contact stinging his soles.
“Bennett, wait!” Libby’s bewildered cry found his ears right before a hand grabbed the back of his jacket.
He shook loose and marched on, but a persistent click-click on the sidewalk let him know she was still pursuing him. He stopped and spun to face her. “What?” The single-word query snapped out, surprising even him with its vehemence.
She drew back momentarily then scurried forward to curl her hands over his arm. “I thought you’d be pleased. I know you’ve worried about Jackson. So why are you so . . . ?” She seemed to be peering beneath his skin, trying to find the real emotion underneath.
He turned and glared across the yard, his teeth clamped so tightly his jaw hurt. “I’m happy Jackson’s fine.” His throat ached with the effort it took to speak. “It’s good news. Jackson’s fine. Pete’s fine. You’re fine. Everybody’s fine!” His hands formed fists, and he jammed them deep into his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to raise one and use it to do something he’d later regret.
Grabbing his arm again, Libby guided him off the sidewalk and beneath the eaves of the nearest building, where they were somewhat protected from the wind and away from curious eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Her tears had dried, leaving shiny paths on her smooth cheeks. The tenderness in her eyes made his chest feel tight. She needed to stop looking at him like that. “Nothin’.”
“There is something. The last response I expected from you at the news of Jackson’s recovery was anger, yet you’re angry, Bennett. I can see it.” She squeezed his arm, leaning close. “Tell me why.”
Bennett jerked free of her grasp. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it won’t change anything!” He wished she’d get mad back—snap at him that he needed to change his attitude or remind him to behave like a human being. She hadn’t hesitated to blast him with her opinions in the past. If she’d do it now, he’d have an excuse to shout and rage, too. But she went on looking at him in that soft, sweet way. In a way he didn’t deserve. “Leave me alone, Lib.”
“I won’t. Not until you let loose of what’s bothering you.”
“What’s bothering me is you!” If anything would make her spout in defense, that would do it.
He braced himself, prepared for the deluge of furious words sure to spew from her lips.
As he’d expected, her expression hardened. She opened her mouth slightly, her chin lifting into an arrogant angle. But then, to his disappointment, she appeared to shrink into herself. Her eyes slipped closed for a moment, and she drew in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, all of the fury of moments before was gone. That odd calm acceptance he’d witnessed in the past few days returned, and it raised Bennett’s irritation another notch.
“Stop making excuses, Bennett. You’re hiding from the truth.” Her composed speech did nothing to ease his frustration. “You aren’t angry at me, but you are angry. What is it?”
He leaned forward until his face was only inches from hers. With his jaw so tight he could barely form words, he snarled, “All right, Lib, you want the truth? You’re right. I’m downright, all-fired, purely mad right now, and I’ve got every reason to be. Apparently it’s not bad enough that I have to listen to my best friend-turning-preacher spouting God-talk at me every minute— now you’re starting to do it!
“I’ve never fit in anywhere—not at the orphanage, where someone dumped me, not with the Rowleys, where I could never measure up to Pete, not here on this campus with its kids from good families . . . but at least, in a way, I had you. We were alike, you and me—not finding a family like other kids from the orphans’ school did, not fitting in anywhere . . . together.” He paused. How could Libby understand anything he said? He couldn’t even make sense of his own ramblings.
But in spite of his disjointed spillage of words, Libby listened intently. Looking into her open, accepting expression, his anger swelled again. “ ‘God saved Jackson.’ ” He mimicked her higher-pitched tone, putting a sarcastic note into his delivery. “Well, doesn’t that make Jackson special? God just seems to save everybody—Pete, Jackson, all those kids who got adopted instead of me—” He swallowed, finally acknowledging the source of the change that had come over Libby in the past few days. “Even you.” Bennett broke out in a sweat despite the cold temperature. “So where does that leave me? What’s God ever done for me?”