The Preacher's Daughter

by Lyn Cote

  “Ah, yes, and suppers at Sophie’s with my mother and yours watching our every move. So romantic,” Lucie added with a grin. “You have to stop sweeping me off my feet.”

  He bent down and kissed her.

  Lucie savored the moment and then pulled away. “Go on. You’ve got a sermon to write and I have bushels of tomatoes to scald. Hey! Wait! Now that I think about it, I’d rather write that sermon—”

  “Not a chance.” Tanner chuckled and hurried behind the steering wheel. “I’m looking forward to my few quiet hours in the church basement.”

  “Coward!” Lucie waved him off and stood, watching his car kick up dust down the gravel drive.

  Over the past week, she and Tanner hadn’t spoken about their feelings. They’d had few moments alone. But ever since the night of the town council meeting, they’d become a couple.

  It was as if they’d made a connection that didn’t need words. Time would tell if this were love, true love, the kind her parents shared. If I’ve fallen in love with a preacher, God must have a droll sense of humor. Lucie sighed and turned and walked back to the steamy kitchen.

  Dorothy stood beside Vita at the stove. “Lucie, I’m going to let Vita have the job of spooning the tomatoes just in and out of the hot bath to loosen their skins. You and I will sit at the table and peel and pack them into jars.”

  Lucie nodded and sat down. The table had a laundered vinyl tablecloth over it. Quart jars, fresh from the dishwasher, sat on one side of the table with a clean white cloth over them. Two shallow nine-by-thirteen pans and two paring knives waited for use.

  “Here, Vita, see how the skin is crinkling?” Dorothy demonstrated. “Use this slotted spoon to dip and then lift the tomatoes out individually and put them on this platter. Tell us when it’s full.”

  “Looks simple enough,” Vita declared.

  Lucie picked up the paring knife and a warm tomato her mother had scalded and began peeling off the skin. The three women worked as the window air conditioner buzzed, trying to keep them cool in spite of the two kettles of bubbling water: one for scalding the tomatoes and the other, the hot canning bath.

  “This brings back memories,” Vita said, her back to them. “I helped my grandmother and mother can tomatoes and make jellies when I was growing up.”

  “Really?” Dorothy commented. “Me, too.”

  “Me, three,” Lucie teased.

  “Yes.” Vita went on as if she hadn’t heard them, “My grandfather and father were both clergy and as poor as the proverbial church mice. Parishioners brought us produce and we preserved or did without.”

  Lucie’s antenna picked up. From Vita’s too-casual voice, she sensed that this was not casual conversation. This topic had a purpose for Vita. Lucie tensed.

  “That’s one of the reasons I was so opposed to Tanner going into the ministry. Of course, it’s a wonderful way of giving of one’s self. But it’s such a financial sacrifice for the man and his family.” Vita paused.

  Lucie felt it was a pregnant pause, an uncomfortable one. What was the woman’s point? Everyone knew no one went into the ministry for the big bucks.

  “I could have warned him—” Vita gave a sorrowful, world-weary sigh “—that he’d have a hard time finding a woman willing to make those kinds of sacrifices.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dorothy said in a gentle tone. “Tom has always provided for his family. And times have changed. Churches expect to pay professional salaries to pastors now or they don’t keep them. Pastors don’t take vows of poverty in this generation.”

  Way to go, Mom! Lucie silently cheered.

  “Well, I wish Tanner’s fiancée had seen it that way. I told Tanner how it would be. When he let her know he was going to seminary, she gave him back his ring.”

  Lucie absorbed this bombshell without giving any visible sign. So Tanner had been hurt. Poor Tanner.

  “It’s probably for the best, then,” Dorothy said, packing tomatoes into another quart. “If she wasn’t called to be a minister’s wife, it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Am I meant to be a minister’s wife? Lucie peeled another warm tomato. How did a person know that?

  Mikey and Danny burst through the back door. “Lucie! Lucie! We’re hot! Can we turn on the sprinkler?”

  Happy for the distraction, Lucie rose and wiped off her hands. “Sure. I’ll come and make sure you get it situated right.”

  “Can Fella run through it, too?” Danny asked.

  “Now that he’s all healed up, sure.” Lucie walked to the door. The boys ran back outside and she turned to Vita and paused. She didn’t want to let Vita’s meddling go unanswered.

  Lucie drew upon her reserves. What did it matter that Tanner had a broken engagement, except that she felt bad that he’d been hurt? She gave Vita a mischievous look. “Well, you know, some engagements are made to be broken. I’ve broken one or two myself,” she joked, and closed the door behind her.

  The thought that Vita might be less than thrilled that her son was “involved” with Lucie dragged at her painfully, but she brushed it aside. After all, Vita had only known her one week. And besides, she and Tanner were a long way from getting engaged. We’re not even dating yet!

  Another few weeks had zipped by. School would be starting on Monday. With dusk tinting the sky, Lucie watched as the final Thursday-evening ball game neared its end. Tonight’s game was special because many parents had joined in playing on their kids’ teams. That had put Lucie out of a job as pitcher. Tanner hovered near his team on the batting bench. In white shorts and a blue shirt, he looked too handsome for her peace of mind. Days in the sun had only done him good.

  Sidelined, Lucie felt oddly lonely, so to be near Sophie and Nate, she sat in the lowest bleacher. Vita and Dorothy sat behind them.

  Vita was still visiting her son and had made not one move to tell him why she was in town or when she planned to leave.

  Lucie tried to like her, but couldn’t warm to her for several reasons. She felt that Vita didn’t like her, didn’t want her near her son and was keeping something from her son. Lucie tried not to take the rejection personally, but she was used to being liked. It hurt. You’re going to have to help me out here, Lord.

  Sarah Louise Kremer hit the ball and Miguel ran for home. He made it and the stands went wild. He bounded up to Lucie and she gave him a congratulatory hug. “Way to go!”

  Instead of going back to his team bench, he stayed beside Lucie and together they cheered his team to victory.

  The mothers of the ballplayers had set a table of refreshments in the park’s pavilion and everyone moved toward it. The evening ball games had succeeded in bringing the newcomers a step into the community. All around her, parents—homegrown and imported—chatted and nibbled cookies. Miguel hopped and skipped beside her. “Are you looking forward to school?” Lucie asked him.

  “Yeah, I guess,” the boy replied. “My mom is trying to find a job in Ames. She’s got a interview tomorrow.”

  The town bus had been taking people to Des Moines and Ames every day for the past two weeks. Lucie felt a burst of satisfaction. God had blessed the seed she and Tanner had planted that night at the town hall. We did something right, Lord! Thanks! “Great. I hope she gets a job.”

  “Me, too. I don’t want to move. I like snow, and my school here. We all get computer time every day and everything. My mom wants me to learn how to use them so I can get a good job when I grow up.” At the refreshments table, Miguel filled both hands with cookies.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Lucie agreed, watching Tanner across the crowded pavilion. He was talking to a group of farmers, probably finalizing the plans for tomorrow’s community harvest of Nate’s crops. He’d organized this without even a push from her. Pride in Tanner blossomed in Lucie. He was such a good man.

  “And I wanna be here when you and the padre get married,” Miguel finished, and then rushed off to a friend who was waving at him.

  Lucie shook her head ruefully. Everyone i
n Pleasant Prairie had her and Tanner married and in the parsonage and they hadn’t had their first real date yet!

  Turning, she found Vita facing her. Vita’s expression did not reassure Lucie. Frankly, Vita’s hovering was getting on Lucie’s nerves.

  “Hi! I’m going to get some lemonade. Want some?”

  Vita shook her head.

  “Oh, okay—”

  “Lucie,” Vita said with a sorrowful expression, “I think it’s time I spoke up. I think you’re a wonderful girl, so vibrant and lovely, but you just aren’t the right woman for my son.”

  Lucie felt her anger spark. That’s it! “Vita—”

  “Now look at Dorothy. Your mother’s the perfect pastor’s wife—so reserved, yet friendly, so accommodating and…unassuming. But you’re not like your mother, Lucie dear. You are cut from too colorful a cloth to make a preacher’s wife. Your outspoken ways would empty out Tanner’s church after the first week!” Vita smiled and patted Lucie’s shoulder consolingly. “As the pastor’s wife, you’d be a disaster! You must give up Tanner. It’s what’s best for him.”

  Lucie bit back a heated retort like “What business is it of yours?” Miguel’s comment had only ruffled Lucie’s feathers a touch. He was a kid, after all. But Vita should know better! And her words—“Your mother’s the perfect pastor’s wife”—hit Lucie squarely in the pit of her stomach. Fuming and afraid of what she might say, Lucie swung away and hustled to the other side of the pavilion.

  Grinning from ear to ear, Tanner approached her with a glass of lemonade. “Thirsty?”

  She eyed him, her lips pursed. Why couldn’t he find time to take her out? Was Vita talking to him behind Lucie’s back? And had he told his mother he planned to marry Lucie—without saying a word to her? “No,” she snapped finally.

  His eyes widened, but he merely held the plastic glass. “Hey, you’ll be proud of me. I just got an idea and ran with it.”

  “Oh?” Vita’s hurtful words played in her mind. “You’re a wonderful girl… You’re not like your mother.”

  “I’m going to start a computer class for adults in the church basement next week. And I’ll need you, your talent at Spanish and your laptop Thursday evening.”

  He just takes it for granted that I’ll stay here! Can’t even make time to ask me out! Without a word to me, tells his mother… Lucie felt mad and sad at the same time, hot tears bubbled up in her eyes. “Sorry. I won’t be here next week. I’m going home with my mom.”

  Hurt and her own fears ganged up on her. “And the next time you decide to discuss marrying me with your mother, you might let me in on it first!” Tears starting, she turned and ran to the Bomb. She squealed out of the parking lot.

  The clouds in the sky the next morning were high cirrus, wispy veils of white. Lucie looked out the kitchen window to the gathering of farmers who would try to harvest Nate’s crop in one day. On crutches, Nate stood among his neighbors, shaking hands. Sam Torres stood at his side. But Lucie’s attention focused on Tanner.

  A sour taste still lingered in her mouth from last night. She acknowledged that she had been rude to Tanner, but she couldn’t make herself venture outside to apologize. What could she say to him?

  Why did Vita have to open her mouth and stir everything up? Why couldn’t she have just let Lucie enjoy being with Tanner? Why had she forced Lucie to face the fact that she might not be the wife Tanner needed?

  As Lucie worried her lower lip, the farmers took off in grain trucks and combines. Sam would drive Nate’s grain truck with Nate along for the ride. Though Nate would have to rest at home after lunch, Lucie could see how happy he was to be able to at least be out in the harvest. Tanner and Ignacio got into another grain truck and followed Mort Hazelton in his combine out of the yard.

  This was Tanner’s first time helping. The combine would harvest and spew the grain into the truck until it was full and then Tanner and Ignacio would drive the load into town and empty it into the twin towering grain elevators there just like all the other teams.

  This would be repeated by many combine-and-truck teams all day, until Nate’s crop was harvested. And to save Sophie from cooking for the harvesters, an army of farmers’ wives would be bringing covered dishes and vats of iced tea to be eaten at Sophie and Nate’s. Lucie wasn’t needed in the harvest or the feast.

  Feeling superfluous, she went up to her room and flopped down on her bed. The worn cotton quilt felt soft against her cheek. She yawned. She hadn’t slept much the night before.

  What was she going to do now? Mikey and Danny would be in school next week. Nate was steady on his crutches and improving daily. Little Carly was trying to walk. The daily ball games in the park had ended. The school year that she’d hoped to have a teaching job for was starting and she was unemployed and broke. Where do I go from here, Lord?

  A noise.

  Lucie jerked up from her bed and rubbed her eyes. She must have dozed off.

  The noise came again—the branches of the maple tree outside her window, stretching, scraping her window. Another gust and the green leaves shivered and bent lower. Lucie leaped up and hurried down the stairs. “Sophie!”

  The house was quiet. Lucie ran outside where the wind was kicking up dust. Zoë, Dorothy with Carly in her arms and Sophie stood in the yard, all looking skyward, even the baby. Fella came barking. Mikey and Danny ran from the barn toward their mother. Sophie clutched a battery-operated transistor radio in her hand. Static crackled from it.

  “What’s up?” Lucie asked, also looking to the sky, now gray and roiling with ominous clouds.

  “There was the threat of a storm today, but the weatherman said it would track north to Minnesota and miss us,” Sophie said, her brow wrinkled.

  “This just blew up out of nowhere,” Dorothy said.

  “That happens here,” Sophie said. “Weather can change in an instant.”

  “What should we do?” Lucie raised her voice to be heard over the wind.

  A grain truck roared up their lane and jerked to a stop beside them. Tanner jumped out. “We were on our way back from the elevator. You’ve heard the weather report?”

  “The storm front’s dropped south,” Sophie nearly shouted, the wind intensifying.

  “¡Sí!” Ignacio agreed, joining Tanner. “It looks bad.”

  “I don’t trust that sky, and they’re predicting dangerous winds.” Tanner took his cell phone, a recent present from his mother, off his belt and flipped it open. “Sophie, use your CB and call to warn all the farmers just in case, though I’m pretty sure everyone is already getting their equipment out of the fields and heading for the nearest shelter.”

  “Is it a tornado?” Lucie asked.

  Tanner shook his head. “They haven’t said so, but we got a storm like this last summer and it wasn’t a tornado—”

  “It was a gustnado!” Sophie shouted as she ran for Nate’s truck and his CB on the dash.

  Tanner nodded, looking serious. “Straight line winds. The radar doesn’t pick them up, but they can do the same damage as a tornado. I’m calling the verger. He lives right near St. Andrew’s.” Then he spoke into the phone, “Hey, this is Bond. Please go over to the church. Use the override and turn on the bells and keep them on. Open the basement doors in case people need to come there for shelter. Yeah, I’m afraid this storm is going to bring down trees.” He snapped it shut.

  “Why the bells?” Lucie asked. Everything was moving too fast. She didn’t have time to think!

  He gave her a grim look. “The town’s warning siren is down. The bells will alert people in and near town that they should take shelter.” He then called the parsonage and told his mother to go to the basement with no argument.

  Lucie shivered, not just from alarm. A cool edge rushed in with the wind that was flapping her hair around her face and billowing her blouse.

  Lightning crackled white overhead.

  Thunder blasted, shaking the earth around Lucie’s feet.

  A torrent of rain poured
down on them.

  “Head for the cellar!” Sophie shrieked, running toward them.

  Nate’s vintage cellar’s door opened to the yard. Fighting the wind, Lucie hurried her mother with the baby inside first. Tanner and Ignacio stood holding the wooden doors as a few pickups pulled into the yard—wives coming with dishes of food for lunch. They jumped out of their trucks and sprinted through the torrent to the cellar. The wind gusted nearly ripped one of the doors from Ignacio’s hands.

  Tanner and Ignacio pulled the doors inward and then shoved the old wooden bar braced against the doors. The bar vibrated as the wind tried to rip the doors open.

  Tanner came and folded Lucie into his arms. She shivered against his soaked shirt. She heard him murmuring prayers for the safety for them, for his mother at the parsonage and for their neighbors. The doors flapped and the wind whined and shrieked.

  Images from TV news reports of trailer homes smashed and upended in high winds flashed in her mind. Pressing her face against his wet shirtfront, she prayed with him. Lord, protect everyone but especially help those in the open fields and those in the trailer court! They don’t have cellars! Anything could happen!

  Chapter Fifteen

  Within minutes, the storm blew itself to the next county. Rain still fell, but the wind had lost its violence. While the rest of them hurried into Sophie’s kitchen, Lucie jumped into Nate’s truck. Tanner climbed behind the steering wheel. Both of them wanted the same thing—to find out if everyone had made it safely through the storm. “Do you know how to run this thing?” Tanner handed her the CB microphone from the dash as he drove out of the yard.

  “I can fake it.” She flipped the switch and the CB radio lights flared. She studied the mike and pushed in a button. “This is Lucie at Nate’s farm. Anyone copy me?”

  A voice crackled from the radio speaker. “This is Farmer One, back at you. Is the storm past?”

  “Farmer One, it looks like it,” Lucie responded. “The storm has moved east. Are you and your team okay?” Her heart still pumped from a large dose of adrenaline.