Through the Fire

by Diane Noble

  “I know. But you need to understand that none of this takes away from the gift you’ve given us—all you’ve done. Or your friendship with Pastor Paul and me. That will never change, no matter what happens.”

  He was still shaking his head. “I can’t, I’m sorry.” He started for the door.

  Skip Spencer stepped out of the shadows. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said solemnly. “You’re coming with me.”

  Skip shot Kate a look that surprised her. She thought he might be proud of his first real arrest. But his freckled face showed only sadness.

  The two walked out of the tent together, and Kate sat down on a hay bale and cried.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The weather turned cold by the end of November, and by Christmas Eve, light snow was falling on Copper Mill. Snow blanketed the ground and clung to the branches of the evergreens, giving the town the look of a winter fairyland.

  It was three thirty in the afternoon, and Paul and Kate were getting ready to leave for the four o’clock Christmas Eve service at the church.

  At the church. What a blessing those three little words brought to Kate. For too long everyone had referred to it as “the property” or “the burn site” or “the building site.”

  The church wasn’t finished. Far from it. There were Sunday-school classrooms to build and the fellowship hall to complete downstairs. But the foundation was done, the framing up, the roof on, and most of the wallboard nailed into place. Best of all, the money from the pumpkin festival had allowed them to build the new steeple, which rose majestically into the air with its historic bell in place.

  Paul helped Kate into her coat, then reached for his own. They stood for a moment in the entry hall, looking toward the living room. A garland with twinkling lights stretched across the mantel and cascaded down from either end. A Christmas tree with thousands of lights stood tall and proud and fragrant by the piano. Handmade ornaments collected through the years graced its branches.

  “What a transformation,” Paul said. “Who would believe it’s the same room?”

  “It’s just like our hearts,” she said softly. “Transformed.”

  He looked down at her. “Are you still homesick?”

  “Sometimes, but not as often. This place—and I don’t mean just the parsonage—feels like home now. I can’t imagine ever leaving.”

  “You’ve done a lot for the community, Kate, and they’ve embraced you because of it. They’re still talking about how you uncovered the crooks at WDR. It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t looked into it.”

  Kate smiled. She was proud of the outcome. She had heard from Sybil Hudson that plans for the hotel had been scaled down to fit the property WDR already owned, but they still planned to go through with the upscale renovation. The new management team had approached Sybil about becoming general manager of the hotel and spa once it was up and running. She was considering it.

  “We’ve been blessed,” Kate said, “from the first day we arrived—even though it seemed like the worst possible circumstance to find ourselves in.”

  “Any regrets?”

  “Not a one. How about you?”

  A half smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve had little twinges, but not many. The worst was watching my Lexus go at the auction.”

  “At least it was bought by someone in Pine Ridge, so you don’t have to see it all the time. And now you’ve got Joe Tucker’s old pickup truck to rattle around in. Don’t you think it’s a bit more, well, ‘you’?”

  Paul laughed. “Actually, I do.” He checked his watch. “We’d better go.”

  “The minister can’t be late.”

  “Neither can the minister’s wife.”

  DUSK WAS FALLING as they entered the unfinished church. Kate took her place in one of the folding chairs and watched as the rest of the congregation entered. There was a hush of wonder when, for the first time since the fire, people walked into their church.

  LuAnne came in with Lester and LeRoy and their mother, Enid. Livvy, Danny, and their boys walked down the center aisle and sat in the row in front of Kate. Next came Renee, pushing her mother in a wheelchair. Wonder of wonders, Kisses was sitting on Caroline’s lap, ears up, big eyes bright.

  Kate smiled as others entered, surprised that after only four months, they had become so dear to her. By four o’clock, the sanctuary was packed.

  Before Paul stood to open the service, there was a slight stir in the back of the sanctuary.

  Kate turned around. Eli Weston and Jed Packer entered together, caught her eye, and sidled into her row of folding chairs. Jed gave her a wink, and Eli gave her a hug before sitting down. The two had become good friends, having taken on the job of designing the expanded kitchen and the fellowship hall. It was part of Eli’s commitment to community service as handed down by the judge, but it was also his labor of love.

  Paul opened the service with prayer, then the children performed “Little Drummer Boy” and “Away in a Manger.”

  Paul’s sermon was taken from Isaiah 61, which had been so comforting during the weeks of grief after the fire. Now it took on even greater meaning, because, as Paul pointed out, the words foretold the role of the coming Savior: “He was sent to...bring good news to the poor...comfort the brokenhearted...announce that captives will be released and prisoners freed...and to all who mourn, he will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning.

  “He is here, with us now, the newborn King,” Paul said at the sermon’s conclusion. “He has come to us just as surely as he came to the manger two thousand years ago.

  “He has given us beauty for ashes...” He looked around at the unfinished room, smiling, “But it’s not what you think. It’s not the beauty of the building that’s rising out of the ashes. No, my friends, it’s the beauty in each one of you. Your strength and courage, your joy, your grace...these too rose from the ashes. We have truly been refined, and that, my friends, is true beauty. That is what we celebrate today.”

  At the end of his sermon, Paul announced that the service would continue outdoors in candlelight, as they dedicated the newly finished steeple and installed bell.

  With the congregation softly singing “Silent Night,” they all filed outside, each one holding a candle.

  As Kate followed the others, she fingered the small folded piece of paper in her coat pocket. There had been a drawing the Sunday before to choose the one who would ring the bell for the first time since the fire. Her name had been chosen, and she had anticipated this moment all week.

  The snow continued to fall as the congregation clustered together. Faces glowed in the candlelight, and when Paul switched on the spotlight, the crowd gasped. The old bell looked strong and sure and beautiful in its new tower, the steeple pointing into the snowy heavens.

  Kate glanced at Renee, who stood off to one side, with her mother in the wheelchair. She had taken off her coat to cover her mother’s lap, and she stood shivering in the snowy cold.

  But it was as if she didn’t even notice. There was a look on her face that Kate had never seen before. All pretense, all bitterness, all snootiness was gone. All that was left was pure awe.

  Paul cleared his throat to announce that Kate had been chosen to ring the bell, but she signaled him with a slight shake of the head.

  He knew her well and waited.

  Kate walked over to Renee. “You’re the one, Renee,” she whispered. “Did you know that you’ve been chosen to ring that beautiful bell?”

  The look on Renee’s face was priceless. She practically flew to the base of the steeple, where Paul waited to help her pull the ropes.

  As the bell tolled, Sam started to sing “On Holy Ground.” One by one, the others joined in. Kate remembered the tears that fell the first time Sam played the song in her living room the Sunday after the fire.

  Now, voices were lifted in praise and thanksgiving, and the beloved candlelit faces of the Faith Briar congregation were filled with joy.

  As the last toll o
f the bell echoed across the snowy landscape, Kate couldn’t stop smiling. God had brought them to this place for such a time as this. Oh yes, he had!

  About the Author

  DIANE NOBLE is the award-winning author of The Butterfly Farm and nearly two dozen other published works—mysteries, romantic suspense, historical fiction, and nonfiction books for women, including three devotionals and an empty nest survival guide. Diane is a three-time recipient of the Silver Angel Award for Media Excellence and a double finalist for RWA’s prestigious RITA award for Best Inspirational Fiction. Diane makes her home in Southern California with husband Tom and their two cats. You can stop by Diane’s Web site at www.dianenoble.com to catch up on the latest about her books, favorite recipes, crochet patterns, and much more.

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