by Glynna Kaye
Jodi stepped back to survey the tables and clear her head. Where should she start? When she had arrived at the church after lunch, Dolly said Pastor McCrae was out of the office, so hopefully she could get this stuff sorted and inventoried before he put in an appearance.
“You’re here already.” Garrett strolled into the fellowship hall as he peeled out of a leather jacket, then draped it over the back of a folding chair next to her. He smelled enticingly of the fresh, cold outdoors.
Ah, well. Best-laid plans. “I wanted to get this done as quickly as possible so when I start making calls again, I can provide better suggestions for what’s really needed.”
He put his hands on his hips, his brows tenting. “When I recruited you, I genuinely thought it would be a slam dunk. Needing only to be tied up with a pretty bow.”
“Well, we’ll get to the pretty bow stuff eventually, but right now it looks like I have my work cut out for me.” At his glum look, she hurried on. “I’ve worked on lots of other projects and it always seems you reach a plateau point. You know, where the goal looks to be entirely out of reach. Not going to happen. Then suddenly it all comes together.”
With a little over a week before delivery time, though, they’d better start moving off the plateau soon.
“We do have a budget of sorts to supplement. There are members of the community—like Sawyer Banks, owner of the Echo Ridge Outpost—who don’t know exactly what to buy and who’ve made cash contributions. Once we get this inventoried, we can do some shopping.”
We? He intended to help inventory the donations and go shopping with her, too?
She’d brought her laptop and pointed to it. It was opened to a document with a boldly typed header: Christmas Project. The cursor blinked in silent anticipation. “Do you want to announce the items we’ve received as I type a list? Or vice versa?”
“Vice versa, I think.” He pulled up a folding chair. “I’m not sure I’d know what half of these things even are.”
And she would? Except when she’d all but been drafted into pitching in with her nieces and nephew when they were infants, she’d avoided tiny kids at all costs. Being around them only brought regret and heartache.
“Okay, then, you type. And we’ll make an educated guess on the things we’re not sure about.”
He settled himself in front of the laptop, fingers poised over the keys, then shot her a heart-stopping grin. “Ready when you are.”
As she went from table to table, naming off the items, bits and pieces of conversation of a more personal nature interspersed. He asked for an update on her folks—were they still teaching at the university? Taking mission trips during the summer and holidays? Yes to both.
He asked about her sisters—where they and their husbands lived and worked. How old their children were. In turn, she inquired about his family and received a rundown on the members of the extended Hunter's Hideaway clan, as well as a catch-up on his younger brother Marc and sister Jenna, now a single mother who’d only recently returned to town.
The conversation drifted comfortably along, a nostalgic reminder of times the two of them would shoot baskets or hang out on the front porch playing games or make improvements to their woodland fort. Back then they’d talk for hours on end about anything that popped into their heads. The conversation today likewise meandered.
Then, out of the blue, Garrett asked if she was seeing anyone, and the easy banter came to a halt. Was he hoping to set her up with one of his buddies? Drew, maybe? She held no delusions that he was asking on his own behalf.
She picked up one of the packages of baby bibs and inspected it, although it was an item she’d already called off to him. “Not at the moment.”
She cringed inwardly, realizing that response would give the impression she was available for whomever he had in mind.
“I haven’t dated for some time.” Although that was an admission she’d have preferred not to make, she plunged on. “But that’s by choice. I’d previously been seeing a man—a missionary to Mexico—through my church in Philly.”
It was a church that she should have gotten involved with when she’d first moved there. If she’d surrounded herself with other believers from the very beginning, maybe none of the things that had shaken her world down to its foundations would have happened. But she’d already been drifting away during college, and afterward she’d been so busy acclimating to city life and her new job—and then she’d met Kel O'Connor...
“Anton and I corresponded and got together whenever he was back in the States. His family lived in Philadelphia, too.”
“That didn’t work out?”
Because of her. She’d met Anton a year after Kel and the baby, when she’d in desperation begun going to church again. And although he was a wonderful guy in so many ways, she’d dragged her feet when he expressed an interest. The following year when he was in Philly, she’d been forced to turn him away when he’d wanted to marry her.
How could she have married him without telling him the truth about herself? About the baby? About her still-flatlined faith even though she warmed a pew each week?
“No, it didn’t work out. It was for the best for both of us. But then...then he died last month.” Two years after she’d sent him away, but his sister had provided the details. “There was a medical emergency in the remote village his team was working in and he volunteered to hitchhike out to bring help. But those who picked him up robbed, beat and murdered him. All for the few pesos in his pocket.”
His empty, discarded wallet, she’d been told, held a photo of the two of them.
“Oh, man, Jodi.” Garrett rose and came to her side to place a comforting hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.”
She took a ragged breath, turning the package of baby bibs mindlessly in her hands. “Here was a man who served God so faithfully, who was endeavoring to be God’s hands and feet in a place most wouldn’t choose to set foot in. I’ve asked so many times—where was God that day?”
“I know how hard things like this are to understand.” A distinct sadness filled his eyes. Compassion for her, or a wound of his own? “This isn’t how God intended His creation to be. Granting mankind free will to love Him—or not—has come at a high cost. But it doesn’t mean He’s abandoned us.”
“But why lose one of the good guys? It seems so senseless.”
“It does. But we can’t allow circumstances to dictate to us what appears to be a truth about God. We can, though, choose to believe what God tells us is the truth about circumstances. That He will never leave us or forsake us. That Christ is coming back. That’s a fact. And one day He’ll make everything right again.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “It only takes belief the size of a mustard seed to please God, Jodi. Belief that He exists and that He’s a rewarder of those who seek Him. I think your...friend...had that kind of faith.”
“He did. And more. Anton was happy doing what he believed God wanted him to do.” But if she’d agreed to marry him, might he have chosen a less dangerous mission in which to serve? Might he still be alive today if she’d been courageous enough to risk telling him about her shadowed past? “At least it’s comforting to know he died doing what he wanted to do. And lived his life with passion and purpose.”
“But it doesn’t take the pain away, does it? Or the questions.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Jode. Even though you said things hadn’t worked out between the two of you, I know this hurts.”
“It does. In fact, it’s one of the main reasons I came to Hunter Ridge. To have time to work through things. The job. Anton. Not just to fix up the cabin to sell.”
“Then I saddled you with this.” He motioned to the tables. “I’d be happy to check around again for another volunteer.
”
“Please don’t. I think it’s actually helped to have something else to think about occasionally.”
He looked at her doubtfully. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. Then tossed the package of baby bibs to the table. “Let’s finish things up here so I can get back to the cabin and start making more phone calls.”
“Or...” A smile tugged at the corners of Garrett’s mouth. “We could go shopping.”
Chapter Seven
Heading out of town to the discount warehouse in Canyon Springs, it felt a little odd having Jodi in the passenger seat beside him and Dolly in the back acting as guardian of his reputation. Although Jodi offered her the front seat, Dolly waved a paperback at them and insisted she didn’t want to stop reading. If she sat in the front, she’d feel obligated to join the conversation, and she had to find out “whodunit.”
That was Dolly for you. Come rain or shine—or a snowy day like today—this past year she’d been ungrudgingly willing to serve as chaperone as needed, even if it wasn’t personally convenient. But, while appreciated, the need for one had become increasingly stifling—and doubly so since Jodi’s return. More like he had a warden.
At least the roads were good today, although the roadside and forest floor were layered in white. Snowflakes danced in the air as another squall passed through. Interspersed with brief bouts of blue sky and sunshine that warmed the blacktopped surface, days like this made winter a bit easier to bear.
He glanced in the rearview mirror at Dolly engrossed in her book, then at Jodi who was quietly gazing out the side window at the passing snowy world.
He didn’t know why he suggested they go shopping for the Christmas project this afternoon. Shopping would be better done next week when they had a true handle on what was still needed. But while he was only somewhat concerned that they wouldn’t meet their collection goal for the project, Jodi seemed especially troubled by her lack of progress. He didn’t like the thought, either, of her retreating to an empty cabin to make phone calls while the memories he’d stirred up about the loss of a former love were fresh in her mind.
When telling him about her job, how it was being relocated overseas, she’d stated that she didn’t want to live outside the country. Had that played a role in keeping the two apart?
“Oh, look! An elk.” Jodi’s face brightened as she pointed out the window, and sure enough, through the tall-trunked pines he glimpsed a male elk with an impressive set of antlers moving among the trees. “There were two deer behind the cabin this morning. I hope they come back while my sisters’ kids are here.”
“I never tire of seeing them myself,” Dolly chimed in before disappearing once again into her mystery.
Garrett and Jodi exchanged a smile, and a sense of contentment burrowed into his soul as they continued to talk about wildlife, the beauty of the Arizona mountains, the blessings they’d shared growing up—if only part-time for Jodi—in Hunter Ridge. Funny, but for a long time he hadn’t seen the town—or his return to it—as much of a blessing. But somehow that perspective seemed easier to embrace as the months in his new position passed by. As he chatted with Jodi about it, relived memories, a deep sense of thankfulness took hold.
She peeped over at the SUV’s speedometer and grinned. “I see you’re still lead-footed, Pastor.”
He eased off the gas pedal, enjoying the sound of her laughter. “Remember when I first got my license when I turned sixteen and took you for a drive?”
“I do. You already had a reputation for drag racing, and I think Grandma was down on her knees in prayer the whole time we were gone.”
He chuckled. Having Jodi around these past few days had been good for him. Like now, they often fell into old patterns of talking about anything that they felt like talking about. Teasing each other. Challenging each other. It was an easiness he hadn’t often felt except when around family members once he’d walked through the formal gates of pastoring a church. With Jodi, though, he could let down his guard and be himself, something he had to be cautious about with church and community members—especially single women.
He tried to live a transparent life, not to put on a fake pastor-y persona, but with Jodi’s return, he could now see how much he’d come to subconsciously weigh each word, each action. Of course, there were those who clearly thought he could work a little harder at being “pastor-like,” unable to recognize how much he’d already reined in his naturally exuberant personality.
When they arrived at the discount warehouse, Dolly pried herself away from her book to join them, but quickly disappeared into the cavernous space with her own oversize shopping cart.
As he and Jodi strolled down the wide aisles with merchandise of every assortment towering high above their heads, an unfamiliar sense of domesticity thrummed through him. People passing by, seeing them each at the helm of a cart and hearing their discussion as they filled the baskets, might easily take them for a couple. A married couple.
He shook the thought from his head as Jodi held up a package of—what did she call them? Onesies? Infant wear, they looked to be.
“Some of these?”
He nodded. “What do you think? Ten packages? Twelve?”
“Twelve. We didn't have many of these among the donations.” She counted them out and put them in her cart, then checked them off their list.
And so they proceeded among the display tables and racks, filling her oversize cart with clothing items for newborns through toddlers. Then stops to load up on baby wipes, lotions and other assorted paraphernalia soon filled his.
It was fun—and kind of funny, actually, as neither had a clue as to what a baby might need if it hadn’t been for Melody’s checklist.
Laughing as they rounded a corner in search of Dolly, a firm voice halted them in their tracks.
“Well, Pastor. You two look to be having a high old time.”
Randall Moppert, accompanied by his wife, Leona, swept a disapproving gaze from Garrett to Jodi and back again.
“We are indeed, Randall. Almost as much fun as the night I TP’d your house.” Now where’d that smart-aleck response come from?
Curly-haired Leona giggled, then abruptly halted when her husband, his graying mustache twitching, sent her a squelching glance. But her eyes still smiled. The woman had to be a saint to have lived with Randall all these years.
“Serving as a minister of God requires a certain level of decorum, Mr. McCrae. You’d do well to remember that.” Randall’s beady eyes narrowed as he motioned dismissively to their laden carts. “And what’s all this anyway?”
* * *
“The church’s Christmas project,” Jodi inserted, not caring for the man’s tone of voice as he reprimanded Garrett. She'd encountered him at church a number of times, usually when he was complaining about something. “Gifts for unwed mothers.”
His smirk and the arrogant raising of his thick brows did nothing to endear him to her. “I’ve never approved of that annual effort myself—rewarding promiscuous young women for getting themselves in a family way.”
His words pierced, and Jodi lifted her chin slightly to meet his condemning gaze. “They didn’t get that way all by themselves.”
He snorted. “Nevertheless—”
“We’re supporting them, Randall, not rewarding them,” Garrett said evenly. “They’ve chosen to honor the sanctity of life and not have an abortion. And we reach out to them because that’s what Jesus would have done.”
“I think it’s a nice thing to do,” the man’s wife said softly, ignoring her husband’s shriveling glare.
The man leveled a look at Garrett and Jodi. “Which doesn’t, however, explain why the two of you are gallivanting off by yourselves in a neighboring town. A single pastor and a single woman.”
“They aren’t gallivanting off by themselves, Randy.” Com
ing into view as she pushed a filled cart around the corner, Dolly smiled benignly at the old curmudgeon. “They brought me with them so I could shop while they attend to church business.”
While Garrett’s insistence on not being alone with her had irked Jodi, now she could see the wisdom of it.
Looking somewhat taken aback—his hopes obviously thwarted from laying a misdeed on the doorstep of his pastor—the man tightened his grip on his shopping cart. “I guess we have something to be grateful for, then.”
Dolly nodded. “We can always find something to be thankful for when we take the time to look for it.”
Apparently not quite sure how to take her comment, he glanced at his wife. “Let’s get on with this shopping. It’s already taken too much of our afternoon.”
When the couple departed, Jodi exchanged a glance with Garrett and Dolly, but none of them said any of the words they were no doubt thinking. How miserable that man must be, scrutinizing every innocent nook and cranny around him for evidence of questionable behavior. And his poor wife...
It was only when they were back in Hunter Ridge unloading Garrett’s SUV in the church parking lot, the sun now sinking behind the towering ponderosas, that she reopened the topic.
“That Randall person had no business behaving so disrespectfully to you.”
To her surprise, Garrett chuckled as he lifted two oversize bags from the back and handed them to her, not appearing the least bothered by the other man’s disparaging remarks. “Randall Moppert is one of the church members who can’t get beyond who I was as a teenager.”
“From your comment to him, I take it you targeted his house for TP-ing?”
“By accident.”
“Randy needs to let that go.” Dolly took one of her own shopping bags from Garrett. “You’ve more than proven yourself to anyone who’s allowed God to open their eyes and soften their hearts.”