by Carol Cox
Kate sucked in her breath. She hadn’t remembered any of this until just now, but the recollection was so vivid she could see the bright spring flowers blooming next to the church’s front steps and the silhouette of the tall steeple outlined against the sky. In her memory, she could even feel the sun on her face and the way the light breeze played with her freshly styled hair.
What had happened next? Kate closed her eyes to bring the scene into her mind. She had gently extricated her arm from Lucy Mae’s grasp and asked, “What is it you wanted to talk about?”
The other woman’s face puckered. “You’ve heard what’s been happening, of course. The talk around town, I mean.”
“You mean all the commotion about some phony fund-raiser using the chamber of commerce’s name?”
“Exactly. You know what they’re saying, don’t you?”
Kate eyed her cautiously. “You mean that the chamber actually was involved in it?”
“Not just the chamber.” An expression of grief crossed Lucy Mae’s face. “They’re trying to pin the whole thing on Lawton.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t heard that. I’m so sorry. I know it’s hard to stand up against gossip.”
Lucy Mae shook her head so vehemently that her permed curls quivered. “It isn’t just a matter of gossip. Don’t you see? They’re talking about bringing criminal charges.”
Kate drew a deep breath and weighed her words carefully before she spoke. “What does Lawton say about it?”
Tears rimmed Lucy Mae’s lower lids. “He didn’t say much of anything for the first couple of days, if you can imagine that. Lawton always has something to say about everything.
“I think he was in a state of shock at first. Then he assured me he had nothing to do with it. He said he didn’t even know the whole mess was going on until the story broke in the Chronicle. He keeps telling me that the truth will win out, but I’m not so sure.”
The tears spilled over and slid down her cheeks. Lucy Mae swiped them away with the back of her hand. “I’m worried about him, Kate. Sometimes I’ll come into our living room and find him just sitting there staring off into nothing. This is taking a terrible toll on him. The people of Copper Mill have placed their confidence in him for years, and to be accused of something like this is horrible! I don’t know what this is going to do to him.”
Kate’s heart went out to the distraught woman. “You know I’ll be praying.”
Lucy Mae gave an impatient nod. “But I want you to do more than that. I want you to find out what really happened. We need to know the truth.”
Kate hesitated. “Does Lawton want me to?”
Lucy Mae sniffed. “Lawton is a typical male, too proud and stubborn to ask for help or even admit that he needs it.” She reached out and took hold of Kate’s arm. “I’m asking you to.”
Kate blinked in the darkness. No question about it; this had been no dream, no vision. Her breath came quickly. A quiver of excitement prickled along her arms. One scrap of memory had been restored to her. And if one could be restored, surely the rest would follow.
“Thank you, Lord,” she breathed. Maybe soon she would have the rest of the pieces she needed to make this puzzle come together.
Relieved beyond measure, she turned on her side and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Paul stepped into the bedroom doorway and called, “I have to run out for a few—” He stopped midsentence, and a slow smile lit his face.
“What’s this? Up and dressed?”
Kate laughed and tossed her hair back. “That’s right; clothed and in my right mind. Or so I hope.”
Paul grinned and shook his head. “When did all this happen? Why didn’t you call me to give you some help?”
“You were busy working in your study. Besides, I didn’t need any help. I started to feel a little energy seeping back into these bones, so I thought I’d throw on some clothes and fix my hair. I even dabbed on a little makeup and a dash of perfume. I feel like a new woman!”
Paul held out his arms, and she walked into them. “I don’t want a new woman. The old one will do just fine.”
Kate curled her hand into a fist and gave him a playful tap on his shoulder. “That wasn’t a reference to my age, I hope.”
“Perish the thought.” Paul cradled her head in his hand and pulled her close to him. Kate leaned against his chest, breathing in the scent of his aftershave.
A moment later, Paul stepped back and held Kate at arm’s length, studying her carefully. “I was going to tell you that I needed to make a few visits and ask if you’ll be all right on your own for a while. If you want me to, I could call Renee and ask her to come over and stay with you.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Kate swayed a tiny bit and reached out to brace herself against the wall with one arm.
Paul reached out to steady her. His eyebrows drew together. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
Kate laughed off the incident. “I’m okay. It was just a bit of a dizzy spell.” She looked up at Paul and tilted her head to one side. “I was thinking about making a quick drive into town, but I guess...”
Paul laughed and shook his head. “No way are you getting behind the wheel of a car right now. But I know you’ve been longing to get out of the house. Do you want to ride along with me?”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve had several calls from sick church members asking for prayer—Dot Bagley, Bob Anderson, and Frank Miller. I thought I’d stop by and check on them in addition to praying for them. It may take me a while to see them all, but you’re welcome to come along.”
Kate thought a moment, then wrinkled her nose. “I’m feeling pretty good now, but I’m not sure that just sitting in the car is what I want to do with my day. You run along. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go.” Kate made shooing motions with her hands. “I’ll be absolutely fine.”
“Promise me one thing. I want you to keep a phone with you at all times.” Paul walked to the dresser and retrieved Kate’s cell phone from her handbag as he spoke. He started to hand it to her, then pulled his arm back and frowned. He tapped the phone against his hand. “What’s wrong with this? I don’t see anything on the display.”
“The battery’s probably run down,” Kate told him. “It hasn’t been charged since sometime before I got sick.”
“The cordless phone, then.” Paul plucked the handset from its cradle on the nightstand and pressed it into her hands. “I’ll feel a lot better if I know you have a way to call someone if you need anything.”
Kate wedged the phone into the pocket of her slacks. “Will do. Anything to make my guy happy.”
“Just keep on getting well. That’s all I ask.”
“I’ll do my best.” Kate laughed. “Let everyone know they’re in my thoughts and that I’ll be praying for them.”
“I will. I’m sure glad you’re feeling better, hon.”
“Me too,” Kate whispered as she heard him close the front door behind him.
She stood a moment, testing her balance, then walked over to the bedroom doorway and stared out into the living room. Now what?
Knowing Paul’s tendency to drop things whenever he finished with them, Kate was used to see bits of clutter everywhere, but the living room looked neat as a pin. There didn’t seem to be a thing for her to do in the way of tidying up.
A hint of frustration tugged at her. She really did want to get to town. A change of scene would be wonderful, and she had hoped she might be able to swing by the library and chat with Livvy across her desk instead of over the phone.
Soon, she promised herself, encouraged by the day’s small return of strength. But she needed to do something to get her mental juices flowing. The snatch of memory that had returned the night before had renewed her determination, and she wanted to do something to keep the process rolling and think things through.
Kate turned toward her stu
dio. Maybe she’d putter around in there for a bit, or...baking. That was it! Baking always helped her when she needed to work out a mental puzzle. With a glad heart, she started for the kitchen.
Halfway there, she reeled and nearly stumbled. She reached out and grasped the back of a chair to steady herself. She closed her eyes and waited for the light-headed feeling to pass. Okay, maybe standing in the kitchen for a prolonged stretch wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Kate looked around again, searching for new inspiration. Surely there was something she could do. Her gaze fastened on the front door. Beyond it lay the yard and her flower bed—the ideal solution! Being outdoors would give her the change of scenery she craved, and she could do her work sitting on the ground. It would be a perfect combination.
Ten minutes later, she crouched on a kneeling pad beside her flower bed, brandishing a weeding fork with gusto. Reaching out with her gloved hand, she scooped up the remains of some dandelions and added them to the pile she had already started.
Kate finished weeding around her daffodils and moved on to look at some of her perennials. She used the trowel to mound up the soil around an echinacea plant. It hadn’t done well over the winter, but it was beginning to show new growth. Kate smiled at the indication that the plant was on the mend...just like she was.
But she had to admit she felt worn out, even after the simple activity of pulling up a few weeds. Maybe she ought to take a break. There was a fine line between getting back into the swing of her normal routine and sending herself back to bed by doing too much too soon.
Kate laid the trowel aside and sat back on her heels. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, catching the warmth of the sun on her face. Taking in a deep breath of flower-scented air, she etched the memory of that moment on her heart. What a special reminder of God’s provision!
“Thanks, Lord, for spring and the promise it brings.”
The phone rang, pulling her from her thoughts. Kate reached over to where she had placed the cordless handset on the grass and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Is the pastor home?”
Kate sat up, drawn from her pleasant reverie by the brusque request. “I’m sorry, he’s out right now. Can I take a message?”
“This is Joshua Parsons.”
Kate had no difficulty recognizing the reedy voice belonging to Faith Briar’s oldest member. Though he had a bit of a soft spot for Kate, he often greeted the world with a gruff, no-nonsense demeanor. Today he sounded even crustier than usual.
“Paul isn’t here right now. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I need prayer,” Old Man Parsons went on. “I’m sick.”
“Oh, that’s a shame! Is it anything serious?”
A short laugh bleated in her ear. “Probably isn’t gonna kill me. I heard you’ve been sick all week. Looks like I’ve got the same thing.”
Sympathy welled up in Kate. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I appreciate that. Don’t want you feelin’ too guilty, though.”
Kate blinked. “Excuse me?”
A muffled groan came over the phone before Old Man Parsons continued. “I said I don’t want you beatin’ yourself up over this, Kate. I know you didn’t intend to go spreadin’ germs around at church for the rest of us to pick up.”
“Spreading germs? But”—Kate floundered—“I’m not even sure that what I had was contagious.”
Parsons gave a weak chuckle. “If I spent time talkin’ to you after church and then picked up the very same thing you’ve had, ain’t that proof enough? And I don’t believe I’m the only one. I hear there’s a passel of others in the church who’ve got it too.”
“Others?” Kate squeaked. She gripped the receiver tight. “I’ll reach Paul on his cell phone right away and have him stop by your house.”
“Don’t have him go to any extra trouble on my account. If I know he’s prayin’ for me, that’s enough.”
“All right.” Kate tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “I’ll let him know. And we’ll both keep you in our prayers.” She hung up and sat staring at the phone.
A dreadful possibility flashed into her mind: Paul was out visiting the sick. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask for specifics on what was wrong with them. But how could she be responsible for others getting sick when she’d been on bed rest for nearly a week?
On the other hand, Joshua Parsons seemed convinced that he’d come down with the same illness that had plagued Kate...and that he’d caught it from her. Could it be true? Had she gone around spreading disease like some modern-day Typhoid Mary? Kate shuddered at the thought.
Suddenly, working outdoors didn’t hold the same joy as it had only moments before. Kate gathered up her things and went back into the house. She stowed her tools and her gloves in their proper places in the garage, then went inside and washed her hands.
A sharp pang gnawed at her stomach. Kate pressed her hand against her stomach and felt a flutter of concern. What was wrong now? I’m hungry! She almost laughed. It had been quite a while since she’d had an appetite for solid food.
She went to the kitchen and opened the freezer door. An assortment of neatly wrapped and labeled meals lined the shelves—macaroni and cheese; a ham, potato, and broccoli dinner; meatloaf; and more—but she didn’t feel ready to tackle anything that heavy yet. Besides, it would take too long to thaw one of the meals and reheat it. She wanted food now.
She glanced at the kitchen counter and spotted a plastic container. Prying open one corner of the lid, she recognized the muffins Camille Sheppard had brought the day before. Kate pulled out one of the muffins and sniffed at it, then pinched off a couple of crumbs and popped them into her mouth. Mmm. Poppy seed.
Behind the container, she spied the jar of elderberry jam LuAnne had left. Perfect. Kate set the muffin on a plate and spooned a dollop of the jam beside it, then carried the snack to her favorite rocking chair.
Camille had a gift for baking. The tender muffin melted in her mouth. Combined with LuAnne’s jam, it made an ideal comfort food to soothe her nerves after Joshua Parsons’ phone call. Although she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for enjoying the delicious snack when others were sick.
Had she really started a mini epidemic? Forgive me, Lord, if that’s true. She certainly hadn’t intended to pass anything around, but that didn’t make the situation any better. There was nothing she could do about it now except pray for the people involved.
Which she did.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate polished off the last crumbs of the muffin with a contented sigh. The little treat really hit the spot. In fact, it seemed to have boosted her appetite instead of satisfying it. She could really go for something more substantial.
What about potato soup? If she let her energy rebuild a bit, maybe she would feel up to making some. Then she remembered how tired she had gotten just kneeling in the grass and discarded that idea.
But only for a moment. The craving for potato soup grew stronger. Maybe she could coach Paul through the process after he got home. On the other hand, her practical side reminded her they still had all that food from the members of Faith Briar. Better to be frugal and not waste their generous gifts.
She made her way to the kitchen and sorted through the meals in the freezer. Pulling out one labeled Aunt Jewel’s Chicken-Dressing Casserole, she set it on the counter to thaw. It wouldn’t be quite the same, but it did sound tempting.
The phone rang, and Kate crossed the kitchen to answer it, breathing a prayer that it wouldn’t be another report of illness.
Abby Pippins’ clear voice came through the line. “Kate, dear, I’ve been so concerned about you. How are you feeling today?”
“Much better, thanks.” Kate sent up a silent thank-you that Abby, another Faith Briar member, sounded blessedly healthy.
“I must apologize for not stopping by to see you before now. I wanted to be there, and I’ve been praying, but I hated to disturb you when you wer
e so ill. It was one of those cases of not being sure about what was the right thing to do...and feeling pretty certain that whichever way I decided would be wrong.” Abby ended with an uncertain laugh.
Kate’s heart warmed at the sweet woman’s consideration.
“Anyway,” Abby went on, “I wanted to know if it would be all right to come over later. I have some food I’d like to drop off.”
Kate’s eyes strayed to the casserole, muffins, and jam on the counter, and she made a mental tally of the other meals still residing in the freezer. Pretty soon she and Paul would have enough stocked away to keep them in meals for weeks to come.
“I’d love to have you visit, Abby. But as far as food is concerned—”
Abby went on as though she hadn’t heard. “It’s my special recipe for parmesan potato soup. My mother always swore by it when it came to getting us back on our feet after we’d been sick.”
Kate glanced at the chicken-dressing casserole and smiled. “You are an absolute answer to prayer. How did you know I was just thinking about potato soup?”
Abby’s tinkling laugh came over the line. “I’m so glad to hear that. It’s simmering now. As soon as it’s ready, I’ll bring it right over.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you.” Kate hung up and slid the foil-wrapped casserole back into the freezer. She and Paul could eat it another day.
KATE SAT ON THE COUCH surrounded by her notebook and an array of loose paper. She finished scribbling a note and added it to the others that lay strewn about on the cushion beside her. She was in the act of slipping them into the section marked “Time Line” in her notebook when the front door burst open.
Kate jumped and looked up in time to see Paul make a theatrical entrance. Bending from the waist, he gave a flamboyant bow, then closed the door behind him and strutted across the room.
“What on earth?”
“Just call me Sherlock.”
Trying to keep a straight face, Kate crossed her arms and leaned back against the sofa cushion. “Wait a minute. I thought I was the detective in this family. What’s going on?”