His jacket was lying across a nearby chair.
She shrugged. “Fine.”
“How’s school?” the pastor asked when she didn’t volunteer any more.
She blanched. Someone had told him.
“What happened?” her father asked, seeing the look on her face.
“Nothing.”
Pastor Ryder dropped his leg and brought his hands to rest on his stomach. “I heard today was talent day,”
he said casually.
It was her dad’s turn to blanch and she was glad. “Today?” He looked at her and she knew what was coming.
She didn’t want to hear it. He would apologize because he’d forgotten and then ask her what else they were planning, as if he were going to show up.
The pastor looked from one to the other in confusion, trying to read what was going on. She glared at them both. “I got to read a story I wrote.”
“Well, that’s great.” Pastor Ryder’s reply only made her madder, though she was certain he had no idea why.
So, she just had to tell him.
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“I got detention.”
“What?” Her father glared.
“For the story,” she explained, and though she tried to act proud that her audience had been shocked and aghast at her story, she hated herself for what she’d done.
“I don’t understand.” The pastor’s gentle gaze made her want to scream. He wasn’t angry but did show a need for an explanation. “You didn’t read the story?” he asked.
Sarah tilted her chin and said politely, “Yes, I did, but they didn’t like the topic.”
“And what was the topic, young lady?” her dad asked.
He clenched the arms of the chair, bracing himself. Boy, was he mad. His eyes flashed and his voice dropped to nearly a whisper, low and deep. She felt chills touch her spine and wanted to laugh, cry, run. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, on second thought, since she was suddenly so scared she couldn’t move. “My story was about getting rid of the homeless problem.”
She saw her dad cast a look at the pastor and then back at her. “The rest of it,” he said softly. The softer his voice, the madder he was. She hadn’t ever heard him whisper like this.
“I described, in detail, how they could fill up the landfill and then we could cremate them like my mom.”
She felt sick over what she’d written, but she had been so mad at her dad.
“You what?” Her father started to stand.
Finding her feet, Sarah jumped up. “Go ahead and yell.” Her voice wobbled, so she raised it to cover the fear. “That’s all you care about—those people. You Cheryl Wolverton
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didn’t care about Mom being gone. You said you were going to change.”
Her body trembled and she felt tears sting her eyes.
“I hate you! You brought me here away from Mom and then you leave me! I’m all alone!”
Embarrassed that she couldn’t stop the tears from falling, she turned and ran out the door.
“Sarah!” Chase called after his daughter and jumped up to follow.
“Let her go,” Dakota said.
Chase stopped by the door. Wearily he dropped his forehead against the doorjamb. “Did you hear what she said about killing those people?”
Dakota’s chair squeaked as he shifted. “I think it accomplished its purpose.”
Chase turned and stared in disbelief at Dakota.
“What are you talking about? My daughter is turning into one of those kids from Columbine.”
Dakota shook his head. “No, Chase. Sit down.”
Chase hesitated, torn. Finally, he walked over and dropped to his chair. “I forgot the talent show today.”
Dakota nodded. “And I think that’s the real problem.”
He paused and studied Chase. Finally, he asked, “Why did you come here, Chase?”
Chase rubbed the back of his neck and then tossed his hat into the now-empty chair. “I thought counseling would help Sarah.”
“No.” Dakota shook his head. “Why did you come here, back to Shenandoah?”
Chase thought back to how life had been before, the hectic schedule and never being home. “I wanted a slower way of life for my daughter, a place where she 218
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would be safe now that she doesn’t have a mother, a place where she could heal.”
Dakota nodded. He didn’t say anything for the long-est time. He shifted in his chair and crossed his hands over his stomach. “How did she like putting out the things that used to belong to her mom?”
Chase remembered that week he’d finally broken down and put out the memories he’d boxed up. One by one, like fine porcelain, they’d removed homemade picture frames, trinkets and such, as well as the expensive items, and placed them around the house. It had almost killed him, reliving each memory of when Ruth had received the gifts. “She liked it. We had pizza and watched a movie. It was a great time.”
“For her?”
“For both of us.” Chase rubbed his eyes. “It hurt though, seeing all of those reminders. I lie awake at night wishing my wife was next to me, wanting to hold her, protect her, but I didn’t and she’s gone.”
“You can’t protect someone from a disease, Chase,”
Dakota said softly.
“I promised to love and protect her when I married her,” Chase said. “My bed is empty now. My heart is empty and I have a daughter who looks just like her who is hurting and running as fast as she can toward trouble.”
“She does look like Ruth, doesn’t she?” Dakota agreed.
“So much so it hurts sometimes.” Chase’s heart squeezed as he thought about it.
“Is that why you’re avoiding her?”
“What?” Chase’s head jerked up. Anger shot through Cheryl Wolverton
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him, electrifying every nerve in his body. Sitting up straight, he clenched his hands in defiance. “I’m not avoiding my daughter.”
Dakota didn’t say anything, simply studied his friend.
Slowly, Chase thought back over the time since his wife had died. “God forgive me, I am, aren’t I?”
He had come here to give his daughter more time with him but it hadn’t happened. “I’m filling every extra minute of time with overtime and volunteer activities.” His heart broke as he realized he was.
Still Dakota said nothing.
“I didn’t realize…” A great raspy sob broke forth unexpectedly as he finally reached his limit. Tears he hadn’t shed since his wife’s death fell as he realized the injustice he’d done his daughter. “I didn’t realize that looking at her was like looking at my wife. I didn’t know I was doing it.”
Dakota sat forward. “And that by avoiding your daughter, you kept bottled up inside you all the pain of your loss.”
Chase punched the desk.
Dakota didn’t move as things fell off.
Chase grabbed up his hat and crushed it. Slowly he regained a tenuous control. “And now I’ve lost my daughter, too.”
“No, Chase.” Dakota’s voice was gentle. “You haven’t lost your daughter. She still loves you. Do you think she’d be acting out like she has been if she didn’t?”
Chase rubbed his eyes, embarrassed over the tears, but unable to stop them completely. “I miss Ruth so much. She was the one who always reached out to 220
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Sarah. She bridged the gap between us, brought us together in the evenings. Dakota, I’m not sure I know how to do that.”
“Maybe you should ask Sarah.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. Forcing the emotions aside, he took a breath and prayed a prayer that God would help him discover how to help his daughter.
“You’re grieving over your loss, Chase. You’ve kept it bottled up so you could be a parent to Sarah, but it’s only kept you apart from her. Confide in Sarah. Let her know you hurt, too. Cry together. Hug each other. When
things look dark, communicate with her and ask her what it is that is coming between you.”
“She’s only a kid,” Chase said. He remembered holding her the first day she was born, and when she started crawling, her first smile, first step, first day at school.
How proud he had been and how much he’d loved seeing his wife hold their child.
Dakota nodded. “Yeah, she’s a kid, and what kid isn’t opinionated.”
Chase had to agree with that.
“She might not be able to answer your questions,”
Dakota continued, “but she’ll know you care. And then pull out a board game and sit down and play together.
Or dot to dot. The activity doesn’t matter, the effort does.”
“I guess I need to drop the shelter then,” Chase said wearily.
Dakota shook his head. “Not necessarily. But ask Sarah if she’d like to help you. She likes woodworking, according to my mom. Or maybe she’d like to paint.
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There’s still a lot of things to do, so find something to do together. More importantly, ask her. And listen.”
Chase sighed. “I haven’t been listening. Man, I have to be there to listen.” He shook his head. Realizing his hat was a mess, he tossed it back into the empty chair.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Chase,” Dakota said.
“You’re grieving and it’s a long road. But you and Sarah aren’t alone.”
Glancing at the door, he said, “I need to go find her.
A lot of things have to change between us.”
Dakota hurt for his friend but he nodded his understanding. Sarah had been gone long enough that she’d had time to cool down. “It’s an ongoing process, brother,” Dakota advised him with one last word of advice. “Take it one step at a time. We’re all here to help you.”
Chase shook his head. “I want to but I just don’t know how. Guess I’m going to learn though.” He stood and grabbed his slightly out-of-shape hat. “Thanks, Dakota.” He started toward the door but paused. Turning back, he asked, “What am I going to do about her story?”
Dakota shrugged. His friend had made great strides today but the road was just starting. He thought how they could use the story with a positive angle. Suddenly he smiled. “Have her write a new one. Maybe you two could brainstorm together.”
Chase thought about it and nodded. “Thanks.”
He headed out the door just as three men came in.
Dakota looked in surprise as his assistant came rushing in around the three older gentlemen. “I told them you were busy.”
Dakota shook his head and straightened up in his 222
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chair. Reaching forward, he moved some papers aside.
“It’s all right. Chase is just leaving. I can make some time for them.”
This did not bode well. Three of the five elders stood before him. Zachary Bennett, the leader, hung behind Odel Baker and Justin Gonzales. Odel wore a long-sleeved shirt and dress jacket with jeans and boots. He was a follower, not a leader, and unfortunately, he’d been following Zach for as long as Dakota could remember. Justin was Spanish-American and owned a large ranch west of town. A good man, but he listened too much to Zach as well. He was in his late fifties, his dark brown hair shot through with silver threads. He was dressed the most casually of the three, wearing jeans, a long-sleeved striped shirt with a bolo tie around his neck. He carried a blue-jean jacket over his arm.
He wondered where Jess Denham and Blaine Geismer were, the other two elders, the only two who would stand up to Zach.
Leaning back in his chair, Dakota crossed his hands over his stomach and mentally braced himself. Offering up a quick prayer for guidance, he nodded toward the chairs. “What can I do for you gentlemen today?”
Odel took a seat in front of him. The oldest of the three, it looked as if he was going to be the spokesman.
Odd, considering Zach was the one who usually took control of the elders. “We’ve had some complaints, Pastor Ryder, about the fact you haven’t been spending as much time in church or with church activities.”
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in love with her. Obviously, that wasn’t public knowledge. But him being seen around town with her and her living out behind his house was public knowledge.
Still, he wasn’t going to give in so easily to them coming to him about Meghan. He had a right to a private life—and some time off. He knew the whole situation boiled down to the fact that Zach was angry that he didn’t have control over him, the young, naive pastor, anymore.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Dakota said innocently. “I’m here my normal business hours.”
“That woman,” one of the elders muttered from behind Zach.
“Cindy McKinley?” Dakota asked, knowing very well that wasn’t who he’d meant. “Yes, I was very happy to see her back in church Sunday.” She hadn’t been there in a while.
He avoided smiling at the look on Justin’s face. Zach scowled, while Odel shook his head. “No. I mean yes, I’m sure it was nice to have her back in church, but we were talking about…” He trailed off and cleared his throat.
“Now, son, we understand she’s a pretty little thing, but you have the church’s reputation to think about.”
He frowned as if confused. Of course he wasn’t, but these men did irritate him sometimes.
Zach was having none of it. Impatiently, he snapped out, “Meghan O’Halleran. My wife and I told you it wasn’t good to be seen with her. It’s the rumors. And if that’s not bad enough, people are calling this church and getting an answering machine.You’re supposed to be here for them. And what about that youth project? Why aren’t you heading that up? Suddenly you have no time for that.”
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Dakota continued to frown. “I haven’t heard any rumors.” He didn’t want to admit how aggravated he was with these three men. They had caused problems from the first day he’d arrived. They felt he was too young, too inexperienced, too whatever, to run such a well-es-tablished church. Oh, it’d been couched in, Let us help train you, but as they’d realized he wouldn’t give in over every circumstance, their fatherly attitudes had turned to resentment.
It didn’t look as if the subject of Meghan was going to go away, however. Maybe he’d made a miscalcula-tion in not putting his foot down earlier.
“That’s what I have a youth pastor for,” Dakota said simply.
Odel, empowered by the support of the other two, added, “You’re too worried about one tree to see the for-est. And, it seems the young lady has been giving beer to adolescents, namely, that young girl we just saw run out of here as we came in.”
Dakota shook his head to deny it. “You’d take a kid’s word over the principal’s?” He chuckled.
“This isn’t a laughing matter. You’re grieving the Holy Spirit, Pastor Ryder,” said Zach.
Heat flushed Dakota’s face—the heat of anger. Zach knew better than that. “Perhaps you’d better look to your own beam first, Zach. You know Meghan has MS
and that I’m involved with her. So what if I’m not spending as much time at church. Do you know my prayer life? Do you know when I’m at the hospital?
What I’m doing at night?”
“Well, that’s not good, either,” Justin added in his accented voice. “You won’t remember her grandmother Cheryl Wolverton
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well, but she was a handful. Very bitter woman and needed much help.”
Odel nodded. “She took up all of her daughter’s time.
The situation was so bad that eventually the son-in-law left and divorced the daughter. It was a tragic time in their family. And if you’re spending time visiting people at the hospital at night, what do you think will happen when you are even m
ore involved with this woman and she needs all your time?”
“Meghan isn’t the same as her mother or grandmother,” Dakota warned, his voice low. He forced himself not to move a muscle where the vultures could see.
If he did, they’d see his anger, see that his hands shook.
Quickly he prayed quietly that God would help him calm down and try to keep their words in perspective.
They didn’t have supreme power over him. God did.
And if Dakota kept his eyes on God, not men, things would be okay.
“Maybe she isn’t her mother or grandmother, but the disease is the same,” Zach said dismissively. “You say you’re called to be a pastor and yet you’re so busy with this woman who takes up most of your time that the people of this church are suffering.”
“But she is a member of this church now,” Dakota argued, feeling his temper rise once again. “And name one person besides those in this office who has been complaining?”
“We can’t divulge names,” Zach said superiorly, which was, of course, the only excuse Zach could use, and not a good one, to keep information from him.
“What does my private life have to do with my job as pastor?” Dakota decided to take a different tack.
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Zach looked aghast at Dakota’s question. “How can you even ask that? Your moral obligation to this church is obvious.”
“My moral obligation to God obviously isn’t,” he muttered loud enough for them all to hear.
“What’s going on here?”
Ah. Blaine Geismer and Jess Denham came into the office, looking put out and out of breath, but there.
Blaine’s white hair was windblown, his white shirt askew, as if he’d dressed hurriedly. Jess, in his forties and the newest elder, looked plain mad, his dark hair covered by the baseball cap he still wore.
As if realizing he still had it on his head, he suddenly jerked it off.
Zach scowled while Justin frowned. Odel shrank in his chair at the confrontation.
Dakota leaned back in his chair and did his best to appear calm. “It seems I’ve been the topic of discussion lately at many a dinner table, gentlemen,” he told the two other elders who obviously hadn’t been informed of this meeting, if the looks they were tossing at the other three men were any indication.
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