by Diane Noble
Collin Wellington had it in his possession?
A million questions hit Kate’s brain at once, but before she could ask a single one, Renee had opened the door, and the Faith Briar choir members poured through.
THAT NIGHT as Kate finished her prayers and lay in bed, she thought about Melissa, John, and little Mia. All day, their names had been on her lips in prayer more times than she could count. She lifted them again before the Father, asking him to watch over them.
Just as she was drifting off, the image of Renee’s urn floated back into her mind. At first she pictured the relief figures of Saint Francis of Assisi, the Wolf of Gubbio, and the two cloaked figures on the opposite side of the urn. None of the depictions bothered her. Then she thought about the almost invisible ancient writing, which was a puzzle.
But nothing bothered her as much as the secret steps to opening the urn and the cherubim that guarded them. The box had been out of Renee’s sight for hours, even days, before her flight home, and the urn wouldn’t open once it was again in her possession.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Kate settled into her rocker to read her Bible and spend time in prayer. Her heart was still troubled by the emotion she’d heard in her daughter’s voice the day before. It reminded her of when Melissa was a frightened toddler and cried out “Mama” in the middle of the night.
“Father,” she prayed, “wrap your loving arms around Melissa, John, and little Mia. Whatever it is they’re facing, strengthen them, guide them, and may they know you are with them.”
She opened her Bible to the Psalms, searching for words that would bring her comfort. Her gaze fell on Psalm 59:16–17, and the worries subsided as she began to read.
But I will sing of Your power;
Yes, I will sing aloud of Your mercy in the morning;
For You have been my defense
And refuge in the day of my trouble.
To you, O my Strength, I will sing praises;
For God is my defense,
My God of mercy.
Kate settled back and smiled. I will sing aloud of Your mercy in the morning...
“Yes,” she whispered, “my Refuge, my Strength, my God of mercy...and peace. I’ll sing...”
A song came to her, and she hummed the words, taking comfort in them. “He is our peace, who has broken down every wall; He is our peace, He is our peace. Cast all your cares on Him, for He cares for you; He is our peace...”
Still humming, she went into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee. No matter what was ahead, no matter the troubles—whether large or small—her Lord was her peace.
Before heading back into the living room, she glanced at the clock: 7:30. The kids would be awake by now. She promised herself she wouldn’t pry, but she couldn’t help dialing their number.
The phone rang several times before clicking over to voice mail. After John’s warm greeting, Kate swallowed hard and said, “Dear ones, your dad and I just wanted you to know how much you’re loved. We’re praying for you constantly. Call us if there’s anything else we can do.”
She hesitated, then added, her voice shaky, “We can’t wait to see you. Hugs and love to you all.”
She stood by the phone for several minutes, hoping Melissa would call right back. Maybe she’d been in the shower or giving Mia her bath. Or maybe they were sleeping in a little longer than usual.
But Melissa didn’t return the call.
When the phone did ring a half hour later, her heart skipped a beat, and she made a dash for it, picking it up on the third ring.
It was Livvy. A very excited Livvy.
“Kate, my first column is in today’s Chronicle!”
“About the trip?”
“One and the same.”
Kate could almost hear her friend’s smile through the phone.
“That’s great. I can’t wait to read the whole series of them. I know I’ll feel like I was right there with you when I read them. Speaking of which...”—Paul came around the corner from the living room, waving a section of the Copper Mill Chronicle—“Paul just came in with the paper.”
Livvy laughed. “Your husband’s timing always seems to be perfect.”
A wave of nostalgia for the trip nipped at her heart, but she quickly pushed it from her mind, though not before thinking, Paul’s timing perfect? As much as she loved her husband, she would always wonder why he hadn’t raised the red flag about their finances before she had launched herself well into planning the trip to Italy, studying the life of Saint Francis, mapping out their adventures...
The friends agreed to meet for lunch at the diner, then said their good-byes.
Sitting at the table, Paul placed the cordless receiver in front of him then unfolded the paper with a rattle and a snap. Kate swallowed a smile. It wasn’t often that her husband showed any absent-minded tendencies, but his carrying the bedroom phone to the kitchen was a little strange to say the least.
“Look at this.” Paul picked up the paper for closer scrutiny. “Renee and Collin made the first page. With the urn.” He read the caption beneath the photo.
Renee Lambert of Copper Mill with Collin Wellington of Oxford, England, in front of the famous Neptune Fountain in Florence, Italy. Renee is holding a replica of an ancient urn, which Wellington, a professor of antiquities, helped her purchase not far from where the photo was taken. The urn will be on display in the foyer of Copper Mill’s Faith Briar Church.
Kate walked to the table and peered over Paul’s shoulder. “He’s a nice looking man,” she said, bending closer. “He looks a bit like that actor, what’s his name?”
Paul grinned up at her. “I’ll need a clue.”
“British. Played C. S. Lewis...”
“Anthony Hopkins.”
“That’s it,” Kate said. “Collin looks just like him.” She paused, then added, “Oh, what a romantic setting for a photo...” Her eyes misted, and she didn’t finish.
Paul looked up, studied her face, then reached for her hand. “I know how badly you wanted to go, Katie. I’m so sorry...”
She managed a smile as she sat down beside him. “It’s okay. Honest, it is. Now, let’s read the article. I’ve rarely heard Livvy sound so excited...”
The Trip of a Lifetime
by Olivia Jenner
I’ve long dreamed of going to Italy. And as Alitalia flight 743 made its final approach to the Rome airport above the Tyrrhenian Sea, I gazed down at the terra-cotta rooftops, the fields of green in the distance, the stunning ancient city, sparkling in the late-afternoon sun, and I realized my dream was actually coming true.
We were still struggling with jet lag when our tour guide met us outside customs. She held up a sign that said “Triple T Tours,” and we made our way toward her, glad to be in such capable hands in a foreign country.
Our tour group was made up entirely of people from Tennessee. (Triple T stands for Tennesseans Tour Tuscany.) Besides my husband, Danny, and myself, others hailing from Copper Mill included LuAnne Matthews, Millie Lovelace, Renee Lambert, and Mayor Briddle and his wife, Lucy Mae.
Though we didn’t know those travelers from outside our little town when the tour began, we all soon became friends; that’s what happens when you spend hours together on a luxury coach, take meals together, tour together, and shop together.
One other significant member of our group, however, did not appear until our first full day in Rome. And he was definitely not from Tennessee, though word has it he may be visiting here soon. But I’m getting ahead of myself...
After getting us checked in and settled a bit in our hotel, our guide took us to get a taste of shopping in one of Rome’s upscale boutique and fashion districts. It’s known as the shopping triangle, an area along Via del Corso, just next to the famous Spanish Steps.
The group quickly spread out to window-shop, though a few of us did more than ooh and ahh over the beautiful clothing, jewelry, and leather goods. Renee Lambert took the stop very seriously.
&
nbsp; Her arms were soon loaded with decorative bags filled with her purchases. She was crossing the triangle when the driver of the Triple T coach sounded the horn to signal it was time to leave. At the same time, the heavy-laden clouds that had been threatening storms all day, gave way, the wind kicked up, and rain began to pour.
Renee quickly became drenched, and in her hurry to open her umbrella and pull on her raincoat, she dropped her bags. Cars and motorbikes zipped by, drivers honking and yelling for her to get out of the way.
Before any of us could reach her to help, along came a knight in shining armor. The man swept his stylish rainproof cape over Renee’s head and guided her out of harm’s way. Those of us watching from under a nearby awning let our jaws drop in awe. We half expected him, with a grand flourish, to place his cape over the quickly rising puddles for her to step across.
He saw her safely to our coach. At some point during the grand sweep of his cape, he had almost magically retrieved the dropped packages. He handed them to her as they said their good-byes, and Renee’s “knight,” whose name we later learned was Collin Wellington, disappeared into the crowd.
As you have surely guessed, this wasn’t the last we saw of Collin Wellington. We ran into him nearly every day of our remaining time in Italy—from Florence to Assisi to Siena and villages large and small in between—as it seemed this professor of antiquities had chosen an Italian journey similar to ours, which was our gain. He added depth to our understanding of the sights, and before too long, we had practically adopted him as one of Triple T’s own.
Livvy’s article went on to describe the highlights of Rome: St. Peter’s Basilica, the Coliseum, the Forum, and the Catacombs. Kate drank in every word, imagining the wonder of seeing the places she’d only read about.
Kate felt Paul’s gaze on her, and her cheeks flushed as she looked up.
He gently squeezed her hand. “I can see it in your eyes,” he said quietly.
She raised an eyebrow.
“I can see how much you wanted to be there with Livvy and all the rest.”
She stood and kissed his cheek. “I wanted mostly to be there with you,” she said. “Maybe someday—”
The telephone rang, interrupting her thoughts and words.
Paul ignored the kitchen phone and reached for the cordless handset. As someone on the other end of the connection spoke rapidly, Paul stood and hurried into the living room.
Kate heard him say, “Of course, that’s perfectly understandable. I’ll take care of it as soon as I can.”
When he returned to the kitchen, his face was flushed, and he seemed to avoid her questioning gaze.
“Is it a church emergency? Is everything okay?”
He stared at her for a moment, biting his lower lip and looking uncomfortable. “It’s something I must keep confidential,” he finally said. “Also something I need to take care of right away.”
He gave her a quick kiss, then hurried from the kitchen toward the front door.
Kate followed a few steps behind. “But Paul...”
The door had already closed by the time she got the words out. Moments later, she heard him start his pickup truck and back into the street.
Chapter Four
Kate thought about Paul’s strange phone call as she dressed for the errands she needed to run that morning. In all their years of marriage, they had never kept secrets from each other. On the other hand, if someone wanted him to keep something confidential, she knew he would do just that. What puzzled her was the flush that rose in his cheeks and the way he seemed to avoid her eyes. But then, maybe she had just imagined both.
An hour later, his behavior was still on her mind as she pulled into the church parking lot. Paul’s pickup was in its usual spot, so Kate wondered if whatever had caused him to hurry out of the house had been taken care of—unless it had something to do with Faith Briar and one of the parishioners.
She entered the foyer and then stopped with a gasp. Renee’s exhibit was breathtakingly simple and beautiful. The cabinet was as tall as a grandfather clock with a cherry-wood frame and glass panels. A single glass shelf graced the interior.
But it wasn’t the cabinet that made Kate stop in awe. It was the urn itself, centered on the glass shelf. It seemed to be glowing with light from inside.
It was an optical illusion, of course, obviously caused by the spotlight above the urn at the top of the cabinet.
Almost reverently, Kate moved toward the glass case. How could something this magnificent be a replica? She wanted to get a closer look, hold it in her hands again.
Not surprisingly, the cabinet was locked.
Kate headed immediately to Paul’s office. Surely Renee had left a key with either Paul or Millie Lovelace, the church secretary.
Millie was sitting in her usual spot just outside Paul’s office, talking on the phone, and with a little nod and gesture, she indicated that Paul was in his office.
Kate peeked in, at the same time giving a soft rap. When Paul looked up, his eyes brightened.
He stood, his grin spreading. “What brings you here?”
“I thought I’d have another look at the urn.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “I know I may be getting a bit obsessive about this, but I just can’t help it. There’s something intriguing about the urn that compels me to study it. Plus, I wanted to see how it looks now that it’s in place.”
Paul chuckled. “I must admit I had my doubts when Renee first mentioned putting it on display here, but it looks very nice in the foyer—almost as if it belongs.”
“Want to come back out with me to have another look?” Kate lowered her voice and glanced toward the door. “I don’t want any rumors to get started. And I especially don’t want anything to get back to Renee, but my doubts about this urn just won’t go away.”
A shadow crossed Paul’s face, but in a heartbeat it was gone. “I can’t, Katie. I’m expecting a phone call.”
As if on cue, Millie appeared in the doorway. Kate wondered how long she’d been standing there. “Call on line one, Pastor.”
Paul’s face turned pink again, just as it had earlier that morning. He gestured to the door, looking pleasant enough, but his words stung. “I’m sorry, Kate. If you’ll excuse me?”
Kate blinked in surprise. She’d never been dismissed from her husband’s office before. She felt her own cheeks flush. “Of course, Paul. I’ll be in the foyer, if you want to join me later.”
But he was listening intently to the person on the other end of the line and didn’t answer. And she hadn’t had a chance to ask about the locked cabinet.
She hurried toward Millie’s desk, becoming more puzzled with each step.
Millie looked up with a smile as Kate asked about the key. “We do have one, but only Pastor Paul, Renee, you, and I can know about it. Renee has one of her own, of course.”
Millie unlocked a metal filing cabinet, rummaged around inside the top drawer with a few clangs, bangs, and metallic jangles, then pulled out a small metal box filled with staples, paper clips, double-A batteries, rubber bands, and keys.
“Aha,” she said, holding up a small brass key on a jeweled ring with a miniature photo of Kisses dangling from it.
Kate couldn’t help smiling; it was Renee all the way.
“This is it.” Millie handed the key to Kate. “Don’t forget to return it.”
A few minutes later, in front of the case once more, Kate inserted the key, turned it, pulled open the door, and reached for the urn. Again she was struck by its surprising weight. There were no chairs in the foyer, so she gingerly carried the urn through the doors into the sanctuary. She chose a pew near one of the side windows with plenty of sunlight, and she sat down.
The cracks were even more evident in this bright light than they had been before. She moved her fingertips across the pattern of lines, trying to determine if they were painted on to make the piece look ancient, or if they were actually hairline cracks. She couldn’t tell without a magnifying glass.
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br /> She turned the piece to examine the side with the two robed figures and the animals. She let her fingers lightly trace over the faces, and then smiled as it came to her. The one with the covered head was female; the other, with tonsured hair, was male. Francis and Clare. Of course.
Over the past several months, she had read everything she could find about both Saint Francis and Saint Clare. She knew that Clare was one of Francis’ early followers and that she had quickly embraced his determination to live the gospel simply with great joy and a full heart.
Kate’s gaze drifted to the cherubim, and she couldn’t help trying to mimic the steps Renee had shown her. She hadn’t expected it to open, and it didn’t. Squinting in thought, she sat back to study the piece, wondering why it intrigued her so.
Was it because the urn was supposedly a replica of an ancient artifact but appeared to her to be older than Methuselah? Or was it because of her niggling concerns about how Collin showed up out of the blue, a so-called white knight riding to the rescue of rain-drenched Renee? Or was it that the urn could no longer be opened—and that Collin had made a seemingly offhand comment about hiding contraband?
Kate studied the line of strange characters or letters that ran below the figures in carved relief. She squinted, holding the piece closer, regretting that the etched lettering was worn to the point of being barely visible.
They were obviously characters or letters in some ancient language. She had seen similar lettering, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of where or when. She would need to do a bit of sleuthing to figure that out, perhaps in one of the books she had picked up on Francis, or from a college class in ancient history decades ago.
She stood and started down the outside aisle to the back of the church. Before she reached the foyer, one of the double doors opened, and Paul stepped through.
“There you are!” He held the door open for Kate, and she stepped into the foyer.
She raised an eyebrow. “That must have been some important phone call.” She wanted to bite her tongue for letting the complaint slip out and hoped her tone came out more gracious than it sounded to her. It apparently didn’t, judging from Paul’s expression.