The Crux of Honor

by Paula Mowery

  LOVE IS SERIES #6

  “…love does not dishonor…” 1 Corinthians: 13:5

  THE CRUX OF HONOR

  Paula Mowery

  Copyright 2016 Paula Mowery

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover Art by Joan Alley

  Edited by Susan M. Baganz

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are the product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means without the permission of Prism Book Group. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Published by Prism Book Group

  ISBN-10: 1-943104-40-9

  ISBN-13: 978-1-943104-40-6

  First Edition, 2016

  Published in the United States of America

  Contact info: contact@prismbookgroup.com

  http://www.prismbookgroup.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  THE CRUX OF HONOR

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  DEDICATION

  Thanks to Dr. Richard Mabry for helping me locate medical information specific to the Amish.

  Thanks to the Amish of Southern Maryland who first showed me about “Plain” living.

  Thanks to my local Pregnancy Crisis Center who shows God’s love daily to those deemed unlovable.

  Dedicated especially to those who have been demeaned by those who should have loved them. Know there’s a God who finds you perfect through His Son.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Chelsea Wilson stared at Samuel’s face as he repeated his apology. The small town campus bustled in the background.

  “Chelsea, I’m sorry. I’m ready to go back and join the Amish church and be baptized.”

  She nodded as tears slid down her cheeks. Her pulse strummed in her ears.

  He grasped her hand and leaned closer. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. Come back with me. It’s not unheard of...”

  “No.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. She studied his plain clothes. “Samuel, I think down deep we both knew this day would come. You never fit here, and I would never fit there.”

  “You will hate me, ja?” His Amish accent crooned.

  “No. I respect your heart-felt decision. I can see it in your eyes. It’s what’s right for you.”

  “And you? What is right for you?” Honesty poured from his big brown eyes.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You will find your way. Trust God.” He pulled her head to his chest and wrapped his arms around her back.

  She leaned into his embrace for a moment and then backed away. He replaced his black felt hat atop his head, nodded, and marched toward the junior college parking lot. A stream of tears blurred his silhouette. Chelsea planted her face in her hands, thankful for the concrete bench under her to keep her from sinking to the ground.

  How could she be so stupid? Her mother had warned her to stop fraternizing with a young man on Rumpspringa. When she refused, her mother had kicked her out of the family home. Chelsea couldn’t help chuckling at her mother’s rich vocabulary. Fraternizing and banished.

  Why did her mother have to be right? As small as the town of Integrity, Tennessee, was, Mother would discover the news of her break-up by nightfall.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist. I can’t sit here feeling sorry for myself.

  She swiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands and rose to her feet. Draping her book bag over her shoulder, she shuffled toward the library. She would focus on studying for her final exam. There was plenty of time to cry her eyes out later, alone, in her tiny rented room.

  * * *

  Dr. Kevin Alley massaged his throbbing temples and glanced at his alarm clock. Even though the hour was early, he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Three weeks had passed since his last nightmare. Would the bad dreams ever fade and disappear? The mangled patient from the car accident during last night’s Emergency Room shift must have stirred his memory.

  He slipped from his bed, trudged to the small den, and plunked into his oversized recliner. Silence should have been welcome after the chaos of the emergency room here and his stint in Iraq. Now it pressed down, suffocating him.

  Had he made the right choice to leave the military and return home to Integrity? The old homeplace was all he had to come home to since Mom and Dad were gone and his sister had her own life in Oregon.

  The perfect scenario in Kevin’s mind included a reunion with Chelsea, but he lacked the courage to contact her. She had probably moved away and was happily married.

  Kevin rubbed his hands down his face. You promised to let God do the leading, Kevin. But God knew his heart had always been set on Chelsea Wilson.

  * * *

  Chelsea sprinted to her car after getting sick in the toilet three times. She couldn’t afford a missed day of pay from her teacher assistant job at Integrity Elementary School. The clear carbonated drink she sipped wasn’t doing the trick. She slid into her parking space and used her key to enter the second grade classroom.

  Mrs. Tarwater glanced up from her desk. “Morning.” Her eyes narrowed, studying Chelsea’s face. “Miss Wilson, are you okay?”

  Chelsea nodded but her stomach roiled again and she fled to the small bathroom at the back of the room. She pushed the door shut behind her. This time she gained control by breathing deeply and exhaling slowly. She dampened a paper towel and pressed it to her throat and neck. When her insides calmed, she opened the door.

  The sweet elderly teacher stood just outside the threshold, in her blue day dress and black sensible shoes. “That certainly answers my question.” She touched the back of her hand to Chelsea’s forehead. “Maybe a little warm.” Mrs. Tarwater pulled Chelsea’s arm, leading her to a chair and motioned for her to sit. “Why are you here?” She crossed her arms over her ample chest.

  “If I’m not here, I don’t get paid. I need the money.” Her scratchy throat added a raspy quality to her voice.

  Mrs. Tarwater’s face softened. She held up one finger and shuffled to her desk, grabbing the phone receiver from the wall unit. Punching in a set of numbers, she paused. “Yes, Miss Ogle? Could you come in early and cover for Miss Wilson? She is quite ill. She can pay back the time to you. Splendid. See you soon.” Mrs. Tarwater replaced the receiver and whirled around. “That settles that. Now, go on and get yourself checked out. Can’t have either of my prized assistants down.”

  Chelsea’s chest tightened. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll be sure to work over for Miss Ogle. Tell her for me?”

  “Of course. Now, go ahead.” The older woman shoved her with a wave of her hands. “Rest and fluids, friend.”

  Chelsea nodded and eased out the door and into her car. She would stop by the Prompt Clinic to assure she could return to work by Monday. Maybe they would have some medication or shot to
hurry whatever bug she had picked up to be gone faster.

  By the time she pulled into the clinic parking lot, her insides had ceased their turbulence. Should she still go in? The visit would only cost ten dollars with her school insurance.

  Convinced it was better to get checked out, she entered the lobby and signed in. She plunked into a padded chair. Strange how sick she was earlier but now seemed normal.

  “Ms. Wilson?” A woman in pink scrubs stood, holding a folder.

  “Yes, here.” Chelsea jumped up and followed the woman to a small exam room.

  “Hi, I’m Melissa Hall, the nurse practitioner here. What seems to be the trouble?”

  Chelsea explained about her stomach upset and vomiting from earlier.

  Ms. Hall took her temperature, listened to her heart, looked in her throat and ears then stepped back. “You say the symptoms are gone now?”

  “Yeah, like I never even had them.” Chelsea shrugged. “I work with children at the elementary school so I thought I would still come in. Lots of strange viruses and stuff go around there.”

  “Well, you have no fever. Something you ate?”

  “I suppose, but I haven’t had much to eat.”

  “Could you be pregnant?”

  The question hit Chelsea like a crashing car. A tremor quaked through her body.

  “Ms. Wilson?”

  She met the woman’s gaze and shook her head slightly.

  “Just a minute.” Ms. Hall turned around and rummaged through a large drawer. “Here. Let’s make for sure.” She extended a small narrow box.

  Chelsea took it, reading the words across the side, Pregnancy Test.

  “You can step right in here and just follow the directions on the box.” The nurse practitioner waved Chelsea into a small bathroom on the other side of the exam room.

  Chelsea wanted to be able to say there was no need for the test, but the possibility stared her in the face. She slipped into the restroom and followed the directions. She studied her watch for the allotted five minutes then swallowed hard. As if in slow motion, her hand reached for the plastic stick and leaned it on its side.

  Positive pink lines glared from the white background. She gasped and her stomach knotted. Tears burned her eyes and she mashed her lips together to squelch a sob. Oh Lord, what have I done?

  Chelsea dabbed her eyes with some toilet tissue then pulled the door open.

  Ms. Hall motioned for her to sit down. “Positive?”

  Chelsea nodded.

  The nurse practitioner wheeled a low stool in front of Chelsea and plopped down. “Saltine crackers by your bed. Eat a couple before you get up. That will often do the trick until you can get a little more on your stomach.”

  “Thank you.” Chelsea lowered her head and her gaze.

  Ms. Hall patted Chelsea’s hand. “I’m guessing this was unexpected.”

  Chelsea could only nod for fear of breaking down again.

  “Honey, my church has a pregnancy center.” She slid her hand into her white coat pocket and pulled out a small card. She pressed it into Chelsea’s palm. “Here.” Her tone and her expression held no judgment.

  Chelsea bit her bottom lip.

  Ms. Hall gripped one of her shoulders and squeezed. “It’s okay. You’ll make it.”

  Chelsea’s chin quivered out of control. “Thank you again.”

  How she made it to her rented room, Chelsea wasn’t sure. She threw herself across the bed and cried her eyes out for the second day in a row.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Kevin refrained from calling out to Chelsea as she emerged from the Prompt Clinic entrance. Her shoulders drooped and her face was downcast. His pulse picked up at the sight of her. Was she ill?

  Five years had passed since she turned down his proposal. That was his last communication with her. While overseas, writing a letter to her tempted him often, but he never succumbed.

  How many times had he begged God to erase her from his mind? Why hadn’t He done it?

  Kevin strolled through the hospital entrance and into the small doctors’ lounge. The ever-present antiseptic accosted him. At least he was in clean conditions, unlike in the overseas makeshift hospitals he had often found himself working in during the war.

  Dr. Eric Snyder punched the button on a vending machine and glanced at Kevin. “Hey. Just coming on?”

  Kevin nodded. “Yeah. You?”

  “Nope.” He rubbed his eyes as he grabbed his pack of crackers. “Just another hour.” Eric plunked onto the worn green couch. “So, have you decided if you’re staying in the ER or going into practice?”

  Kevin sighed. “I’m having trouble deciding. I don’t know.”

  “Man, I think I’ve about had enough of the emergency stuff. I’ve been talking to Dr. Tarwater.”

  Kevin drug a chair from under the small table and straddled it. “He’s still practicing?”

  “Yep. And old Mrs. Tarwater is still teaching second grade.”

  Kevin chuckled and shook his head. “I had Mrs. Tarwater for a teacher in school, and her husband delivered me right here in this hospital.”

  “I know, right? Me too.” Eric bit into a snack cracker. “Did you know Chelsea Wilson is Mrs. Tarwater’s teaching assistant?”

  Kevin’s stomach tightened. He let out a puff of air before replying. “No, I didn’t know.”

  “You two were pretty tight, growing up.” Eric’s brows rose.

  “Um, yeah.” Kevin jumped to his feet. “Better go.” He reached for the door handle.

  “Hey, you gonna take me up on my offer to come to Sunday School?”

  “Soon.” He yanked the door open.

  “She’s not there, you know. Her parents still attend. But since Chelsea moved out, she hasn’t been to First.”

  Kevin nodded without turning around and stepped into the hallway. He sauntered toward the Emergency Room desk.

  Assistant teaching, leaving home, not at her church. What else had Chelsea been doing these last five years? Curiosity gnawed at him.

  * * *

  Chelsea punched in the number for the pregnancy center and would have lost her nerve if a woman hadn’t answered on the first ring.

  “Hello, Pregnancy Center. This is Emma.”

  “Um, yes. I was just calling to get some information on your services.”

  “Okay. Are you pregnant?” Emma’s tone was perky.

  Chelsea’s stomach clenched. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you available to come in this afternoon?”

  “Well, I...”

  “There are only a few of us here today.”

  “Okay. Yes, I can come.”

  “You know where we’re located?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just ask for me, Emma. And you are?”

  She swallowed. “Chelsea.”

  “Great. Chelsea. I’ll see you soon.”

  The call ended.

  What am I doing? She stood and paced a path alongside her bed. She stopped. What choice do I have? I need help.

  She grabbed her purse and skittered down the stairs and out the front door. Where would she fit a baby in her small room? How would she afford all that a baby would require?

  God, I’ve messed up again. Maybe my mother’s right. All I do is bring dishonor to her and Dad.

  The Pregnancy Center was only two blocks away. She sat in her car and stared at the entrance. She glanced in all directions then hopped out and jogged up to the door, opening it and slipping inside as if on a covert operation.

  The large historic house had been converted into the center three years ago and was run by the local Baptist Association. Chelsea recalled the announcement for the grand opening. The hint of musty old wooden boards knotted her throat.

  A young thin woman with straight dark hair and large brown eyes stepped into the foyer. “Hi, I’m Emma.” She extended her hand and smiled. “Chelsea?”

  Chelsea nodded and tentatively took Emma’s hand. As she started to retrieve her hand, Emma held
it and gently pulled her into the adjoining room. A light cinnamon fragrance floated from a flickering candle.

  “Please sit.” Emma waved toward an old leather chair and plopped onto a matching sofa next to her, folding her hands in her lap. “Now, as for services we offer. We have a Thursday evening Promise Class. That class provides basic child care as well as Bible study. You will earn points for attending and reading your Bible. You also earn points for coming in when you can and watching some informative videos. Those points can be used to shop for items for your baby.” She paused.

  Chelsea shifted in her seat. Overwhelmed didn’t come close to the turbulent waves that bounced around inside.

  Emma leaned forward and patted Chelsea’s arm “How far along are you?”

  “I just found out a couple of hours ago. I have no idea.” Heat rushed to her cheeks.

  “Our ultrasound tech is here. Do you want her to take a look?”

  Chelsea bit her bottom lip. Did she want to see? Of course, she would never abort the child, but she might have to consider adoption. That word jabbed her heart. No, somehow she would have to make it.

  “So, what do you think?”

  Chelsea shrugged. “I suppose.”

  Emma jumped up and motioned for Chelsea to follow. They stopped at an open door in the hallway. A fiftyish woman with salt and pepper hair looked up from a small desk just inside the room. “Come on in. Business is slow today.” She smiled.

  Emma waved Chelsea into the room. “Chelsea just found out about her pregnancy. This is her first visit here. She’s unsure about how far along she is, but I thought you might be able to see.”

  “Sure.” The woman stood.

  “I’m going to gather you some materials, Chelsea. I’ll have them for you when you’re through here.” Emma whirled around and disappeared down the hallway.

  Chelsea inhaled deep and let her breath out slowly.

  “I’m Rita. Come on in.” She slipped through another doorway.

  Chelsea almost turned and sprinted for the exit but something held her back and nudged her into the ultrasound room with Rita.