Megan’s heart tripped. Was he threatening her? Could he even fire her? With an abrupt nod, she left his office. How dare he insinuate that she had to go out with him or else? Paige had jokingly mentioned that if he bothered her it was sexual harassment. Or maybe she had been serious. Had Paige noticed what was happening? And now that Chance knew she believed in nonresistance, he assumed she would never press charges against him. She’d opened herself up to his harassment. Or was it harassment, when he knew how much she liked him?
She stared at her computer screen, wishing Lil wasn’t out of the country. If she went to Katy with her concerns, she’d probably advise her to quit her job. Although it might be the advice she needed to hear, Megan wasn’t willing to do that.
She considered Randy. Upon his return, he’d set everything right again. But as Chance had reminded her, that was more than a month away. The more she thought about Chance’s coercive behavior and his ultimatum, the more determined she was not to go out with him at all. She didn’t have to date him. She wouldn’t.
If he pressed it, she’d tell Paige. She hated the thought of going to an outsider with her problems, but she didn’t think she could admit to her family or friends just how much she was attracted to Chance. And without that information, they wouldn’t really understand her dilemma. If they knew the pressure he was exerting on her, they’d be furious. She’d never met anyone as determined as Chance. Except for Micah.
CHAPTER 12
Megan filled canning jars with Lil’s three bean salad recipe, while Barbara Troyer fastened lids and placed the jars inside her seven-quart canner. When the second and final batch was cooking, Barbara invited Megan to sit a spell.
Swiping her forehead, Megan eased into the kitchen chair. “That was fun. The bright colors will look pretty on your pantry shelf.”
“What’s really fun is that every time I open a jar, I’ll remember this morning.” Barbara went to her cookie jar and came back with a strawberry-shaped plate containing two peanut butter cookies. “Your mom is blessed. For years I longed for a child.” She sighed, going to the refrigerator and returning to the table with two tall glasses of milk. “But it wasn’t in God’s plan.”
“I’m sorry. But maybe that’s why you made such a wonderful Bible school teacher.”
“We must make the best of our journey.”
Megan nibbled on a cookie, savoring the sweetness. “Do you think people’s paths cross for specific reasons? Even in one-time situations?” Megan was aware that Barbara possessed a wealth of wisdom where practical life was concerned. And she probably wouldn’t ask as many questions as Mom before dishing out advice.
“Proverbs twenty, verse twenty-four says, ‘Man’s goings are of the Lord.’ ” Barbara nodded. “I believe God’s all knowing and enjoys watching His people interact. There are no accidents with Him. But we can miss opportunities. He certainly doesn’t twist our arms.”
“Do you think that includes relationships with outsiders?”
“Sure. Remember your friend Katy? Her employer had a big influence on her.”
“You’re right.” Megan knew that Katy’s struggle with seeing things as black and white had changed when she found out that God used hymns to bless her employer, the same way He did to bless Katy. It had been eye-opening for Katy to realize that outsiders could be Christians. Chance claimed he was a Christian.
Barbara leaned forward, her eyes lighting with excitement. “It’s interesting that you brought up the topic of personal journeys. My sister’s into genealogy, and while she was here, she got me interested in it, too. For years she’s been doing research about our family roots. Did you know that there’s a lot of information in the Mennonite Encyclopedia? She also has a Mennonite friend with access to a computer.”
Barbara’s aged hand whipped through the air. “I don’t understand it, but she’s able to dig into records. She just mailed me a large envelope full of good information. There are photocopies from family trees that relatives wrote inside their Bibles. There’re some wonderful faith stories. And these people were our ancestors. It’s humbling and wonderful to think how God works down through the ages. I suppose it’s a blink of an eye to Him.”
Barbara brushed some crumbs into a neat pile on her tablecloth. “I guess when you get to be my age it’s natural to wonder if you fulfilled your life’s purpose. It’s amazing to read some of the stories of my relatives. How they passed their faith on to the next generation. Someday I’ll meet them in heaven. Eli might already have met them. But this must be boring for you.”
“Are you kidding? I find it fascinating. And I think it’s wonderful that you’re doing something new. I’m in a bit of transition myself. And I don’t have your experience to lean on.”
“Oh?”
“As you know, my two best friends just got married. I’m discovering that what I used to share in confidence now gets passed along to their husbands.”
Barbara smiled. “That’s true. You’re smart to realize it. Discretion is important. There should be a sermon on that.” She shook her head. “But I interrupted you. Go on.”
Megan sighed, glanced at the hummingbird feeder outside the kitchen window. “Lil’s out of the country right now, still adjusting to married life. And Katy’s busy with little Jacob. And since I started working, I’ve got this whole new life and nobody to talk to about it. Of course, I’m the only Mennonite in the whole company. I used to tell my mom everything, but suddenly I find myself holding back, not wanting to worry her. I guess I’m afraid she might be overprotective and want me to quit. But I like my job.”
“You can always talk to me. It won’t go any farther than these walls.”
Barbara’s walls were a cheery yellow, a reflection of her personality, and Megan trusted her. Chance’s remark popped into her mind, too. It’s nice to know I haven’t been talking to a wall.
“What’s your job like?”
Megan told her about the charter flights and described her job. She explained how her boss was on a leave of absence and how her temporary boss had generally upset her job and her life.
“Why is your boss on a leave of absence?”
“See, this is the kind of stuff that would upset Mom. Randy was unfaithful to his wife, and they’re trying to work through it, trying to keep their marriage together.”
Barbara’s eyes widened. “That’s a big burden for you to carry. It’s hard to be thrust into an outsider’s world.”
“Katy and Lil know about it, but they don’t really understand what I’m going through.”
“So you’re wondering if God wants you at this job? But you don’t really want to hear that He doesn’t?”
“No, I’m not questioning my job. I guess I’m struggling with how close to get to my coworkers.”
“Aha.” Just then the stove’s timer went off. “I’m sorry. I need to get that. But I’ve learned that most often, the answer is inside you; confiding in someone just helps you sort it out.” Barbara lifted the cage out of the canner and placed it on a cooling rack. “Beautiful!” she exclaimed.
That night for supper, Mom served bean salad that Barbara had sent home with Megan. “My mouth’s been watering for that all day.”
“It was nice of you to spend time with Barbara,” Dad noted.
“I like her. Did you know that she’s interested in genealogy?”
Dad cut into his savory round steak, browned and simmered in the skillet, just the way he liked it. “No.”
“Her sister got her going on it. I think it’s a good thing. Like a puzzle, something to occupy her mind. Do you know much about your ancestry, Dad?”
He glanced across the table at Mom and hesitated. Megan noted that he waited for Mom’s nod before he continued. “I do. Some of the relatives have traced our roots all the way back to the old country. In fact, we have a few heroes in our line.”
Leaning forward, Megan asked, “What do you mean?”
Dad placed his knife on the edge of the bone-colored dinnerwar
e. “You know the story of Dirk Willems?”
“Sure. I learned about him in college.” His story had been documented in The Martyrs Mirror. He had been fleeing his pursuers when a beadle fell through a frozen river and was in trouble. Dirk Willems had turned back and saved his persecutor. But the beadle had still taken him into custody, and Dirk was killed for his faith. He was a Mennonite hero. “You’re not saying he’s our relative?” Megan looked from Dad to Mom, who focused more on her meal than the information.
“Yep. It’s not the Weavers, but through one of the wives, and his blood is definitely in our line.”
“But how can that be if he was martyred?”
Dad chuckled. “You’re right. Not his. But the same bloodline.”
“I can’t believe you never told me this before.”
Mom got up to take her plate to the sink. While she had her back turned, Dad jerked his gaze in her direction, and Megan realized that he hadn’t talked about it for her mom’s sake. Mom was adopted. Dad had been protecting her feelings. Mom never talked much about it. In fact, the times Megan had questioned her, she usually closed the topic swiftly.
Feeling sad that her mom had blanks in her past, Megan gave her dad an understanding nod. She’d always wanted to know more about her roots, even before she knew that Dirk Willems was her ancestor. Just hearing his story bolstered her faith. It was a lot like the missionary stories she loved. But she could tell that her dad had closed the topic. If she wanted to know more, she’d need to ask him in private.
Mom returned to the table. “Dessert? Micah’s sermon made me hungry for Jell-O.”
“Yes,” Dad said. “Speaking of Micah, I have news.”
Megan dipped up some of the Jell-O, wishing they’d had cookies instead. She’d need a dollop of whipping cream on hers.
“Our second candidate has declined the invitation to come and check out Big Darby.”
“Why?” Mom asked, posing her fork midair.
“He felt God wasn’t in it.”
Megan’s mind raced, wondering what this would mean for Micah. “What now?”
Dad took a drink of water then replied, “The committee talked about going to the third person on our list, but then we changed our minds. Instead, we decided to invite Micah back for a three-month trial.”
“How would that work?” Mom asked, glancing nervously at Megan.
“He comes as an interim preacher, and at the end of the three months, the congregation takes a vote to decide if they want him to stay permanently. After the vote, he’s given the opportunity to accept or decline.”
“So the vote itself, whether it’s a strong one or not, could influence his decision?”
“Yes.”
Mom fiddled with her Jell-O. “I never thought about the candidates turning us down.”
With growing alarm, Megan asked, “Where will he stay?” Although she hoped Micah would get the invitation, she didn’t want him living just down her hallway for three entire months.
“The committee assumes he’ll stay here.”
In frustration, Megan blew air between her lips.
“But your mom told me how he pursued you in college. So I’m not happy about him staying with us.”
Megan nodded in agreement. “You didn’t tell the committee about it?”
“No. I didn’t want to bring that to anybody’s attention.”
She sank with relief. “Isn’t there somebody else on the committee who can house him?”
“Unfortunately not. We haven’t discussed it recently, but back at the beginning of our search, our home seemed like the only viable option. Unless we rented a place for him. But I came up with an alternative, if your mother and you agree.” He leaned forward, and Megan could read the excitement in his eyes. “You know my shop room? We could fix it up for him. I’m sure we could get some folks to help. It wouldn’t need much work. I could suggest it to the committee, saying he might feel more comfortable having his own space for that long of a time.”
The room was part of her dad’s home mechanic shop. But it was separate from his work area. He used it for storage, and it had plumbing.
Megan made a face. “But it’s dirty and gross.”
“But we could fix it up.” Mom caught the vision. “And afterward, it would be a little guest cottage.”
“Have you contacted him?”
“No. I’m going to call him tomorrow. I wanted to check with you both before I took the shop idea back to the committee. So what do my girls think?”
“I’m for it. If Megan doesn’t care.”
“He gave you no indication that he’s still interested in you, right?” Dad asked. “Because if he is, then I’m putting my foot down about him staying here.”
“No. He’s changed. I’m not afraid of him or anything. I guess it would be all right.”
“You’ll tell us if he does anything out of line? If it’s not working out for you?”
“Of course.” She shifted her gaze nervously. She hadn’t done that with Chance.
“I want to keep my eye on him,” Dad said. “I won’t let him bother you.”
“Thanks. But what’s going to happen with Barbara? Is she going to be able to keep her home?”
“We haven’t decided what to do about that yet. The church owns the property, but Brother Troyer always paid his rent on time. If she wants to stay there for a while, it seems sad to remove her.”
“Especially for a bachelor,” Mom observed. “Micah probably wouldn’t be interested in keeping up that big garden.” She looked at Megan. “Do you think?”
“I don’t know much about his interests. I just hope he doesn’t live with us forever.”
Dad chuckled. “Don’t worry. It won’t be forever.”
“It’ll just seem like it.” Mom laughed.
A loud bang interrupted their conversation, causing Megan to flinch and look down the hall. The entry door had blown shut.
“There’s a storm coming through. I heard on the prayer chain that the Millers have relatives in Indiana, where there’ve been some tornado warnings.” Mom jumped up. “I’d better close the windows. Even if it doesn’t rain, I don’t want all that dust blowing in.”
Dad stood. “I’ll help you, honey.”
“I’ll get the dishes.” Megan cast a worried glance out the kitchen window at a menacing sky, glad they hadn’t been forced to the unpleasant storm cellar. She stared at her dad’s shop, wondering how Micah’s presence would change their lives. Would he take all his meals with them? Be constantly underfoot? She hoped it wasn’t a big mistake.
A sudden crack of thunder shook the house, and with it came a sense of foreboding. Strange how two men had invaded her life. The look Chance had given her when she left work on Friday still sent chills down her spine. He’d stopped by her desk to make plans, but she’d grabbed her purse and left him standing there. She’d half expected him to follow her to her car, but he hadn’t. Would he seek revenge, or find a new way to wear down her resistance?
CHAPTER 13
When Megan returned to the office Monday morning, she put her purse in her drawer and froze. Resting on top of a stack of paperwork was a two-inch rock that she hadn’t put there. And it was heart shaped. She glanced at the door to Chance’s office. It was closed. But who else would have put it there?
“Morning,” Paige chirped, stopping in front of her desk. “That was some storm on Saturday, wasn’t it?”
“I know. It took me a long time to get to sleep.”
“The wind knocked down several trees on our street, but our property’s fine.”
“I don’t think it did any damage around us either.”
Dangling her empty coffee cup, Paige said, “I guess Indiana had some bad tornados.”
“Is there a good kind?” Chance asked, stepping into view. He perched on Megan’s desk. “You told me that your church helps out after natural disasters. Will they be going to Indiana?”
“I’m sure MDS will send someone.”
“What’s MDS, honey?” Paige asked, running her finger over the smooth surface of the mysterious heart rock on Megan’s desk.
Feeling the heat rise to her face, Megan replied, “Mennonite Disaster Service. They organize volunteers to go in after natural disasters and clean up, repair, and rebuild.”
Then Paige asked Chance, “You think this will affect us?”
“Let’s make it affect us. I’ll get on the phone and see what I can find out. You have time to drum up some donations if I can put together some extra flights?”
“I’ll make time just as soon as I get my coffee.” Paige gave Megan a wink and started toward the coffee room.
“You have the number for MDS?” Chance asked Megan.
“I’ll find it. I know a little about them. I considered applying for a job there, but there wasn’t anything local.” Randy had never gotten involved with them, but then he hadn’t been as motivated in that area as Chance. Mostly Randy handled what charitable opportunities came to him without seeking anything out. But since Chance had arrived, the entire staff had become more charity-minded. Even Paige’s enthusiasm was contagious.
“They don’t have anything local?”
“Oh, they do. But they work out of Pennsylvania and cover the country in zones.” She waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find the number.”
“Good.” Chance rose and started toward the door that led out to the hangars.
Megan hesitated, then asked softly, “Chance?”
He paused. “Yeah?”
“Did you put this rock on my desk?”
He came back and whispered, “I can set my heart, too. I put it on your desk. It’s to remind you that I won’t ask for more than you can give. Just friendship.”
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