The Preacher's Daughter

by Lyn Cote

  “Me, too.” Danny forked up some of the casserole. “But Sammie still wants Fella back. He told me so.”

  “I like Fella here,” Mikey countered, swinging his legs and bumping the table leg.

  “Mikey, settle those legs down,” Sophie admonished. “Fella is welcome to stay or welcome to go back to Sammie. We will still love him either way.”

  Lucie sighed. In spite of everything, Sophie was almost back to normal. Her distress had subsided markedly since Nate came home. Even the trips back and forth for physical and occupational therapy didn’t frazzle her.

  “Honey,” Sophie said, “I saw Harry at the feed store today and he said he might be able to help Sam out with the harvest.”

  Nate gave a dry laugh. “That’s what Harry always says. But he’s never been free to help me in the past. Always pulls a muscle or something else. Come fall, he’ll have more excuses than a dog has fleas. We won’t think about the harvest now. I got most of the crop in before the accident. Sam is taking of things for now. We’ll get the crops out of the fields someway. I might even be well enough to work by fall.”

  Sophie didn’t look convinced, but she smiled and nodded. “Sure.”

  Lucie tried to decide if she should spring her news on Tanner in front of everyone or do it privately. Decisions, decisions.

  The phone rang in the kitchen. Lucie got up and ran to pick it up. “Hello?”

  “Hey, pumpkin, it’s your dad.”

  Lucie grinned. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Is your mother free?”

  “We’re eating supper early, but I’ll call her. Mom!” She turned to find her mother right behind her. She handed her the phone and went back to the dining room table.

  Lucie took a bite of the tasty casserole and chewed it. Of course, Tanner would be irritated with her at first, but he’d come around. He always did. He should be used to me by now!

  Dorothy returned to the table. “I told Tom that I’d call him back after the meal.”

  “What did he want?” Lucie asked.

  “Just something that’s come up at the church. He wanted to get the feminine viewpoint from me.”

  This was a new idea for Lucie. She didn’t remember her father asking for her mother’s opinion very often as Lucie was growing up. Had he just begun this or had he done it all along and Lucie just hadn’t noticed? Lucie studied her mother in this new light.

  The meal proceeded with the usual spilled milk and discussions over whether water chestnuts came from trees—the usual evidence of children at the table. After Lucie cut the pie, everyone scattered with things to do. Leaving Sophie wiping Carly’s hands and face clean, Lucie and Tanner took their plates of coconut cream pie out onto the back porch. Lucie heard her mother at the kitchen phone, dialing her father. The boys were throwing a ball to Fella. Sancho ran along with Fella, yipping with excitement.

  Against this backdrop of happy sounds, Lucie tingled at having Tanner right beside her.

  Lounging against the railing, Tanner scooped up some of the fluffy cream-colored pie into his mouth. Whipped cream dotted his lip.

  Lucie traced the spot with the tip of her little finger and felt suddenly breathless. “Messy.”

  “So what’s up?” he said, looking sideways at her.

  “What do you mean?” she asked archly, licking her fingers and feeling ripples of awareness.

  “You stared at me so much during dinner that I kept looking down to see what I had spilled on my shirt.” He gave her a half grin. “I hadn’t spilled anything. That tells me you want me to do something. What?”

  Deciding to make him coax it out of her, Lucie dipped her fork into her piece of pie and glanced down at the floor. Tanner’s tanned feet in sandals caught her eye. How did he do it? The man even had cute toes!

  “Lucie, what is it?” Tanner asked in a suspicious tone. “What are you plotting to get me to do?”

  “Well.” She let the light sweet cream melt on her tongue. “I was thinking we need to do something more—for the newcomers.” She licked her spoon and dipped it into the creamy custard. “I mean, we have them coming to the games on Thursday evenings and the two groups are beginning to greet each other. But…”

  “But?” Tanner prompted with that same current of wariness.

  She savored another sweet spoonful, taunting him with her gaze.

  “Lucie.”

  Well, here goes nothing! “But I think we should be doing more—” Lucie plunged in headfirst “—something to get the newcomers and the locals talking to each other. When you were having those discussions with the church board about what to do to bring the newcomers into the community more, did you actually come up with any plans?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “We discussed initiating a Spanish-speaking worship service for Saturday evening or Sunday afternoon. We were going to hire a translator.”

  “But that would separate people, not bring them together.” She waved her spoon. “We need something that brings people together!”

  “I agree. But what?”

  “Well, I’m glad you asked,” Lucie said with a satisfied smile. “I think we need to have an informal social after the next Thursday-night game.”

  He straightened. “Where did you get that idea?”

  “From Miguel’s mother.” She fluffed the creamy topping with the end of her spoon. “When I stopped by their trailer the other night—”

  “Hold it. Hold it.” Tanner set his pie down on the porch railing. “Something like this takes planning. We need a host. We’ll need to advertise—”

  “Well, we better get busy because I’ve told Maria that we’ll have that social after the next Thursday-night game.”

  “What?”

  “And I think the parsonage would be the perfect spot for it. Everyone can just walk there after the game.”

  “Lucie!” He upset his dish. His pie splatted on the ground below. Fella and Sancho raced over and devoured the broken crust and creamy filling.

  Tanner glared at her.

  With a saucy grin, she took his fork and scooped up a generous bite of her pie and aimed it for his mouth.

  Still glaring, he accepted the morsel.

  “It’ll be fun,” Lucie crooned. “You’ll see.”

  Chapter Eleven

  After the next Thursday night’s game, Lucie stood at the bottom of Tanner’s freshly painted gray back steps. The parents—nearly all—had come for refreshments and stood around the uncut lawn or sat in lawn chairs under shade trees. Lucie felt an urgency. That made her feel out of place in this tranquil scene. Time was short and growing shorter. Soon, the mosquitoes would drive everyone home. She needed inspiration for another hint at how to continue knitting this community together. Lord, You’ve brought them together here behind the church. Where do we go from here? Lead them. Lead me.

  As she sipped a cold glass of tart lemonade, she eavesdropped on several conversations.

  To her right:

  “Here’s my friend.” Danny pulled Miguel over to Sophie. “His name is Miguel.”

  Sophie leaned down. “Nice to meet you, Miguel. I’m Sophie.”

  “Hi, Sophie,” Miguel said.

  “Hijo, son,” Maria, coming to Miguel’s side, interrupted, “please call her Señora Sophie.”

  Sophie turned and smiled. “You’re Miguel’s mother? We’d like to have Miguel come over after a morning game….”

  To Lucie’s left:

  “…wish you and Sophie had let us know,” Mitch, the mechanic—who was letting Lucie pay off her new muffler at ten dollars a week—was saying to Nate, “that you needed help. Pleasant Prairie always takes care of its own.”

  “Yeah,” Nate added, “I know, Mitch, but our priest and Ignacio just volunteered. On my own, I don’t think I would have asked.”

  “Lucie let us know,” Ignacio put in. “And the padre and me—we are from Pleasant Prairie also.”

  About ten spaces in front of Lucie:

  “So,” Tanner was saying to Juan
, “you think the church’s mower just needs new spark plugs?”

  “Yeah.” Juan stood with his hands shoved in his pockets.

  “Can you come out tomorrow and take care of that?”

  “Sure, man, I mean, padre…”

  Lucie turned back to the first conversation.

  “I wish I knew more about the Bible,” Maria told Sophie.

  Hearing this cue, Lucie moved forward. The Lord had provided the next step.

  After saying the opening prayer, Tanner finally admitted it to himself. Days later, he was still irritated with Lucie. He’d tried to banish anger from his mind without success. It was the first Sunday night in August and he sat at Nate and Sophie’s dining room table, his grandfather’s worn black leather Bible open in front of him. He’d chosen this Bible for tonight, hoping that remembering his grandfather’s faithful service to God would calm him.

  The air-conditioning kept the room moderately comfortable; a box fan sat on the floor circulating the air. After spending so many days and nights there, this house had become his second home. He usually felt at ease there.

  Not tonight. He gazed around the table at the people who’d shown up for the first home Bible study—the home Bible study that Lucie had invited Maria to—before she’d even discussed it with him. At this thought, he felt the steam rise in him again.

  Maria, of course, was here, but more surprising were the others that had joined her—Ignacio, the Hazeltons and Sam Torres’s wife. Finally, Nate and Sophie made up the gathering of nine, a good number for a small group.

  Sam had come along with his wife, but was out in the barn going over the equipment with the oil can. Sammie and Miguel were outside playing with Mikey and Danny under Zoë’s supervision, their yells filtering through the closed windows. Dorothy was in the kitchen preparing iced tea and dessert for them.

  “‘For the darkness is passing away, and the real light is already shining,”’ Sophie read aloud from the First Epistle of John, chapter two.

  Maria looked to Tanner. “What is this light and oscuridad, I mean, the darkness?”

  Tanner burned with aggravation and knew he was wrong to be annoyed with Lucie. He forced himself to focus on the topic at hand. “All through the Bible, light symbolizes God’s truth while darkness represents the absence of truth or sin. The worst darkness is being separated from God—the greatest tragedy.”

  “My dad,” Lucie broke in, “always says that the closer you are to God, the more light you have in your life. God brings honesty and truth with him.”

  Tanner hardened himself against Lucie’s buoyancy. He didn’t want to get a lift from her ever-present enthusiasm. Hadn’t he had enough of his mother’s impulsiveness in his childhood—nothing ever certain, everything up for grabs? How was it that Lucie got past his defenses? How did Lucie have the power to get him to do things that weren’t natural to him—like playing baseball? And why did he put up with her rushing him into things?

  Tanner’s conscience answered his own questions. You always go along with Lucie because somehow she triggers you into action. Tanner shifted restlessly with this thought.

  “I remember your father saying that,” Sophie added, Carly on her lap dozing, so completely relaxed, she looked as if she were without any bone structure. “Lucie’s dad always said that God’s light made us see things clearer. So that if you stay close to God, you could make better decisions.”

  “How do you do that?” Mort asked.

  Lucie reached over and fingered Carly’s dark curls. The play of the pale fingers in the dark brown hair captivated Tanner.

  And in spite of his inner turmoil, he was thrilled his students weren’t just sitting listening to him. Exchanging thoughts and ideas helped students absorb more deeply what was being presented. The Bible study couldn’t be going better!

  Lord, why can’t I get rid of my anger toward Lucie? I don’t want to spoil this evening and I don’t want to hang on to my resentment. I know it’s wrong. Why can’t I stop being upset with her?

  Tanner looked up to see all eyes on him. He cleared his throat. “One stays closer to God by doing what we are tonight. We are reading His words, which He inspired the apostle John to write.”

  “‘Thy words have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against Thee,”’ Nate recited. “My mom taught me that when I was Danny’s age.”

  Sophie smiled at Nate and patted his arm.

  Lucie continued to affectionately fluff the sleeping baby’s locks of hair.

  Tanner couldn’t take his eyes from her. He felt the conflict within him—the pull to this woman who loved without reservation, and in opposition, his frustration at her leaping ahead of him, time after time. He made himself return to the lesson. “Why don’t you read on, Maria?”

  “‘Whoever says that he is in the light, yet hates his brother, is in the darkness to this very hour.”’ Maria stopped without being asked. She pursed her lips and looked at Tanner. “But sometimes you can’t help it. I mean if someone has treated you badly, it’s hard not to hate them. If I hate someone, does that mean that I am in darkness, separated from God?”

  Maria’s innocent words were like burning stakes thrust into Tanner’s heart. God, I am so sorry. Why am I so angry at Lucie? She was just being herself. “That’s a difficult question, Maria.”

  “Not really.” Lucie spoke up, her delicate hand leaving the dark curls. “The Lord’s Prayer says, ‘Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.’ We must forgive because God forgave us. Holding on to a grudge isn’t an option.”

  Tanner ground his teeth silently. She’s right. Another more painful idea intruded. Am I angry at Lucie or at myself? Am I upset because she moves things along while I hang back?

  Maria frowned. “I’ve been holding on to anger against that boy, the one who left town…’ Then she colored, obviously realizing that she’d brought up a touchy subject.

  The fact that Riel had abandoned Zoë, who was pregnant with his child, had soon become common knowledge in Pleasant Prairie. Evidently it had even reached Shangri-La. Remembering Zoë that night by the railroad tracks steadied Tanner. I was able to help Zoë that night. Even Lucie said so.

  “I’ve been having the same trouble,” Nate rumbled.

  Tanner didn’t blame him.

  Dorothy had come into the doorway. “That’s only natural, Nate. Riel hurt someone you love.” Dorothy walked over to Sophie and held out her arms for the sleeping baby. Sophie stood and settled Carly into Dorothy’s arms. “But in the end, Riel lost what he might have gained by staying.”

  Before Tanner could put his question into words, Mrs. Torres spoke for the first time. “What would he have gained?” The woman sounded curious and unconvinced at the same time, matching Tanner’s reaction.

  Dorothy turned and smiled at her. “He would have gained a loving family and a precious child.”

  Bull’s-eye. Dorothy’s words nailed him. All Tanner could think was What am I losing by being angry with Lucie?

  Finally, the house was quiet, the children already asleep upstairs, Sancho at the foot of Danny’s bed and Fella at Mikey’s. It was Tanner’s turn to stay overnight with Nate, whom he’d just helped out of the shower and into bed.

  In his shorts and T-shirt, Tanner perched on the top step of the back porch, barefoot and with his elbows propped on his knees. A strange mixture of emotions tumbled around inside him. He felt uplifted by the Bible study and it was easy to see why.

  Maria had asked if she and Mrs. Torres could bring another lady with them next week. Ignacio had said he’d try to bring another friend of his, too. If the group continued to grow, Tanner would split it into two to make room for more people. That’s why Lucie had suggested they begin with a short book like the First Epistle of John, one that could be finished in a month. Who knew how many people might end up growing spiritually, all because of Lucie?

  Tanner wanted to tell Lucie how glad he was that she’d gotten the ball rolling the way she had. He had t
ried and tried to think of a way to get Lucie alone so they could talk, but in vain.

  The door behind him opened quietly and bare feet padded toward him. He knew it was Lucie without even turning around. Do I already recognize her footsteps? The disturbing idea sank deep inside him.

  “So,” she asked from behind him in a pert whisper, “still mad at me?” She plopped down beside him, wearing a pair of cutoffs and a faded T-shirt.

  Feeling his neck turn red, he put his head in his hands. “Was I that obvious?”

  “To me.” She had the nerve to chuckle. “I’ve had a lot of experience over the past few weeks in making you mad.”

  More shame. He groaned quietly. “I’m sorry, but you—”

  “I get under your skin.”

  “Exactly.” She must have come fresh from the shower. She smelled of some floral shampoo that made him want to lean closer. He restrained himself, but the fragrance went to his head.

  “Tanner, I don’t think that’s going to change,” she said wryly. “I think we’re just really different people.”

  “I can agree with that.” He straightened up again, trying to resist the spell that her nearness was weaving around and within him.

  “I mean, I like to move ahead.” She held up one palm and then the other. “While you—”

  “I like to think things over and pray about them—” he cut in, unwilling to let her score all the points.

  “I pray, too. But I pray differently.”

  “What do you mean?” He propped his back against the rough railing and contemplated her. She leaned backward, her elbows resting on the top step.

  “Each morning I pray that God will direct my path. So when a thought occurs to me, I figure it has God’s blessing. Because I already asked Him to guide me through my day.”

  While enjoying the elegant pose she presented with her slender legs stretching downward, Tanner considered this new idea. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. You pray that each morning?”