When Angels Cry
Page 10
He stood, wobbly at first, but finally remained steady. His face lit like a beacon on a dark night. “I can walk!” he shouted. His two friends stared at him, blinking, mouths open. Then gripping his arms, they steadied him and began to laugh. Laugh and then shout for joy.
“Thank God, I can walk!” The man spun to tell the mob.
Daniel halted. No. Couldn’t be. Obviously, the guy could already walk. This was just a cruel trick to get these people’s money—naive, foolish people who continued singing and praising God so loud that Daniel looked across the beach, uncomfortable.
Yup, these people were good. Real good. He shifted his feet uncomfortably in the sand, waiting for the shouting to stop and the offering basket to be passed.
But as things settled down, no such basket appeared. Angel smiled as she approached him. “Did you see that?” Excitement tainted her voice.
“I’m not sure what I saw,” he returned a bit too harshly.
Isaac came running over. “Can I go surfing with Daniel now, Mom? Pleeeeease!” He made no mention of the healing as though it was something that took place every day.
Daniel could use another dunk in the sea. If only to clear his head from this madness. He raised a brow her way. “How about it, Mom? I could sure use a surfing buddy.”
As she shifted her gaze from Daniel to Isaac to the ocean, a glorious idea occurred to him. “And, by the way, how about you two join me at SeaWorld next Saturday? I have free tickets.”
“SeaWorld! SeaWorld!! Can we, Mom?”
She shook her head and opened her mouth to utter what he was sure would be a “no” when he added, “It would give us a chance to talk about what happened here today. In public. Where you have nothing to fear.”
He gave her his most pleading look and could see her defenses crumbling.
Finally, she released a sigh. “Very well. And yes, Isaac, you may go surfing.”
Victory! With a playful punch to Isaac’s arm, Daniel led him away, grinning at Angel over his shoulder.
♦♦♦
As Angelica watched Daniel and her son stroll away, surfboards under their arms, fury pinched every nerve within her. Drat! SeaWorld! Of all the places. How dare he ask her in front of Isaac! She’d said no to her son so much lately, how could she deny him something he’d been begging her to do for years?
Anna slid beside her. “Now I see what has you so distracted today. The handsome pastor.”
Handsome was an understatement. Especially with seawater glistening over the rounded muscles of his chest. Especially with that strong, stubble-peppered jaw and deep-set blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, Anna. I keep trying to stay away from him, but he keeps showing up wherever I am.”
“Hmm. Seems the Lord has other plans.”
“He keeps questioning what we are doing here. I feel like he’s searching.” She sighed and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s playing me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“To rekindle something we once had. Feed his ego. Who knows?” She faced her friend and gave a half smile. “I imagine he’s not used to women turning him down.”
Anna laid a hand on her arm. “I know he hurt you once very badly. Listen carefully to the voice of the Spirit. He will lead you down the right path. Don’t trust your feelings or anything else.”
Angelica smiled. “I’m trying.” But even now as she watched Isaac and Daniel paddle out, terror gnawed at her soul. Her son latched onto any adult male who gave him attention. It broke her heart to admit it, but he desperately needed a father, especially now that he was maturing. Just not this man! Not one who would lead him away from the true God.
Her prayer was interrupted by gasps from the crowd, and she turned to see two policemen strolling toward them. “Who’s in charge here?” the short, beefy one shouted.
“No one’s in charge, Officer.” Robert halted his prayer with an elderly lady and stood. “How can we help you?”
Breath coming hard, Angelica gripped Anna’s hand and approached.
“Move along, everyone. Move along.” The taller officer waved his hand over the crowd, and instantly people stood and scattered across the beach.
“What’s going on here?” the first policeman demanded.
Releasing Angelica’s hand, Anna stepped forward. “We are singing and praying for people. That’s all.”
“Proselytizing?” the man barked.
“Just praying,” Clay said, rising.
“Public prayer is forbidden. You know that.”
“We aren’t bothering anyone,” Robert interjected. “We’re just helping people.”
“We’ve had complaints.”
“From who?” Angelica asked.
“People who come to this beach to relax and not have to hear a bunch of Jesus crap.”
“We don’t spread any Jesus crap. We spread truth.”
The man narrowed his eyes upon Anna. “What is truth?” He snorted. “Consider this a warning. If I hear any more complaints, or I come back here and find you at it again, I’ll arrest the lot of you and toss you in jail.”
Chapter 11
And he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me. He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it.
Matthew 10:38-39 (NKJV)
Daniel had not been able to wipe the smile from his face ever since he left Angel and Isaac at the beach. He had not only wormed his way into her son’s graces, but back into hers as well. All by expressing an interest in her so-called religion. He grabbed the coffee from the attractive barista at the church coffee shop—who gave him a seductive smile—and spun around lest anyone accuse him of flirting. Unfortunately, he slammed into Rubio the music director. If not for the cap on his cup, he would have spilled his hot coffee on the poor man, who, by his angry expression, looked like someone already had done so.
“Dan, we need to talk.”
Grr. Why didn’t the man address him as Pastor Daniel? Pasting on a smile, Daniel nodded, though he’d rather eat bricks at the moment than deal with another one of the man’s emotional tirades.
“It’s the play,” Rubio said, leading Daniel away from prying ears. “I just can’t deal with the incompetence of these actors!” He wiped the back of his hand on his forehead as if he were going to pass out. “Amateurs. They are all such amateurs.”
“Well, they are amateurs, Rubio. This isn’t a Hollywood production.” Daniel would laugh if the man weren’t so serious. “Listen, just do your best.” Daniel started to leave when Rubio grabbed his arm.
“It’s not just that. How can I work with musicians who don’t even show up to practice? The play is in two weeks, and we are nowhere near ready.”
Daniel cleared his throat, seeking the best way to handle this. He’d been meaning to talk to Rubio about his managerial skills anyway. Now was the perfect time. “Maybe if you didn’t scream so much at everyone and insult them, they’d work harder for you.”
Rubio flinched and let out a gasp. “How can you say such a thing? I’m under tremendous pressure, and you give me imbeciles to work with.” Tears flooded his eyes.
“Now, now, Rubio.” Daniel laid a hand on his shoulder. “I put you in charge of this play because you’re the best and most talented musician and director I know. You can do this. I have every confidence.” Daniel sipped his coffee and glanced around, seeking an escape. “Try a little patience with these amateurs. It will work out, I assure you.” He clapped a supportive hand on the man’s back.
Rubio nodded and wiped a finger beneath his eye. “Very well.”
Heading for the door before the man broke in sobs, Daniel spotted Marley sitting at a table in the corner, peering into an open Bible as if it were a letter from a long-lost love.
Strange. Daniel stopped. “Everything okay, Marley?”
He looked up and smiled. “Yes. Just reading.”
“Did you see the crowd that came forward to join the church
yesterday?”
Marley only smiled.
“At least fifty.”
“God be praised,” Marley said without conviction.
“Must have been some great sermon I delivered.” Daniel half-kidded, expecting Marley’s usual praise. His good friend and youth pastor normally couldn’t wait to tell Daniel how good his message was or share his excitement over the number of people who came forward. But now that Daniel thought about it, he hadn’t done that in quite a while.
“Yup,” was all he said.
“You sure everything’s all right?”
“Yes, thanks. Just doing a lot of thinking…and praying these days.”
“Well, there’s no harm in that.” Daniel smiled. “See you later.”
Out in the cafe garden area, he passed Isabel Garcia, a short, plump middle-aged woman who was in charge of missions.
She stopped before him. “Quite the offering we took in yesterday for missions! I can’t tell you how much we need that money.”
“Your talk on Sierra Leone did the trick. But remember, only half the money collected goes for missions.”
Lines formed on her forehead.
“The other half needs to cover administrative costs,” he added. Why didn’t these people understand that it took money to run a church as big as FLCG?
“Of course I realized some would be taken out,” she mumbled, clearly flustered. “But that’s well over ten grand.”
“But just think, ten grand will also go to Sierra Leone.”
Frowning, she glanced over the patrons laughing and chatting over coffee. “Our missionaries have made such inroads with the people there. You wouldn’t believe their miraculous stories. Perhaps I can share them with you sometime?”
Daniel looked at his watch. “I’d love that. Not today, but soon.” He walked away, lifting his coffee in her direction. “Have a great afternoon.”
He entered the maze of halls behind the sanctuary, hoping to make it to his office without further interruption. No such luck. Harold Jakes stood chatting with an admin up ahead. Ducking into another hallway, Daniel took the long way to his office through the administrative wing.
Mrs. Clipton was hard at work at her desk, while several other workers flitted about or were on phones. It still amazed Daniel that he was the CEO of this well-oiled machine. He stood for a minute, watching, remembering the words of his father.
You’re gonna be a preacher? From the look of disgust on his face, you would have thought Daniel had told him he was going to be a garbage collector. One of those deluded charlatans who rob weak people of their money. Liars, the whole lot of them. And most of them don’t got two coins to rub together. It’s your mother filling your head with such nonsense. What a waste of a life. With that, he had waved Daniel off, belched, and continued drinking his beer.
Part of Daniel wished his father could see him now. Part of him wished the man were six feet under.
He stopped before Mrs. Clipton’s desk. “Got that spreadsheet ready yet?”
She glanced up, a nervous look on her face. “No, sir, not yet. I’m sorry, but my niece is in the hospital this week.”
Daniel let out a frustrated sigh at her continual excuses. “I’m sorry to hear it. I hope she is well.” He glanced at his Rolex yet again. “But I need those figures.”
“She had a blood clot in her brain, but they believe they caught it in time. We are praying for her recovery.”
“That’s good news. I will pray too.”
“Perhaps you could visit her? She’s at Holy Cross. I know it would mean the world to her.”
Daniel frowned. Did people realize how busy he was? He couldn’t possibly visit every sick person in the church. “Of course. Check my schedule, will you? If you can’t find time, I’ll ask Pastor Thomas.” He started away before she put more demands on him. “But I want those figures on my desk before I leave today,” he said over his shoulder.
“Yes, sir.”
Daniel sipped his coffee and turned down the last hallway before his office. A curse rose to his lips when he spotted Kimberly and Thomas talking in front of his door. Couldn’t people leave him alone for a minute?
Thomas whispered something in Kimberly’s ear, causing her to giggle and Daniel to shake his head. As soon as they spotted him, they separated and Kimberly hurried past him, giving him that alluring smile of hers.
“What’s that all about?” Daniel entered his office and set down his coffee.
“Nothing. You know Kimberly.”
“Yes, and I know you, too.” Leaning back on his desk, he crossed arms over his chest.
“Never mind about that.” Thomas shut the door, his tone growing serious. “I have some good news.”
“Then why so glum?”
Thomas ran a hand through his sun-bleached hair. “The Chief of Staff called when you were out yesterday.”
Daniel’s brows rose. “The President’s Chief of Staff?”
Thomas grinned. “One and the same. You’re not only attending the annual National Prayer Breakfast, you’ve been invited to deliver the keynote.” His eyes flashed.
“Really?” Daniel could hardly believe his ears.
“That gets you right in front of the most important people in the nation. We’re on our way, buddy.” He rubbed his hands together. “Straight to D.C.”
Daniel stared down at the floor, stunned.
Thomas’ jovial mood instantly soured. “But none of this will matter when you are arrested and thrown in jail.”
Daniel looked up. “What are you talking about?”
“Attending a hate group meeting. What were you thinking?” Anger flared from his friend’s dark eyes.
Daniel ground his teeth. “So, you’re having me followed now?”
“Someone has to keep you in line.”
“I don’t need a watchdog.” Daniel spat out, his anger rising.
“Apparently, you do.”
“Don’t follow me again.”
Thomas released a long sigh. “I’m only looking out for your best interest. You know that.”
Daniel studied him, saw the concern in his eyes. Yes, he did know that. “Listen, I didn’t know what it was. Angel invited me to meet some of her friends.”
“And if you had listened to me in the first place and stayed away from her, you wouldn’t have been there at all! Do you know what would happen if you’d been arrested? Everything would be ruined! All of this.” He waved his arm over the luxurious office. “The church, your position, your salary, your fancy home and car, and especially your chance at a power seat in Washington. All for what? Some cocktail waitress you had a fling with twelve years ago?”
Anger boiled in Daniel’s gut. Nobody told the great Daniel Cain what he could and couldn’t do. No matter their good intentions. Pushing from his desk, he circled to stand behind it. “I don’t plan on going to her home church again.”
“But you intend to see her?” Thomas approached, his face reddening. “She’s trouble, Daniel. She nearly ruined you once and she’ll do it again.”
Daniel stared at him, too angry to respond.
“You owe me.” Thomas pointed a finger at him. “You wouldn’t be here, you wouldn’t have all this, if not for me.”
Daniel should have seen that one coming. Even if it was true, it was a cheap shot coming from a friend. But certainly one Thomas used often to get his way. With Daniel’s background and grades, he would have never been accepted into seminary if not for Thomas’ father, a deacon in the Lutheran church, who spoke up for him.
Daniel uttered a low growl. “How long are you going to hold that over me? You could always start your own church and make it to D.C. yourself.”
Frowning, Thomas sank into a chair. “We had a deal. You have the charm and charisma and I have the brains and connections.” He leaned forward on his knees. “So then listen to me. Stop seeing Smokes. We’ve come too far to throw it all away.”
Chapter 12
For He shall give His ange
ls charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. In their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone.
Psalm 91:11-12 (NKJV)
Angelica could not shake the feeling of dread that had darkened her spirit ever since she’d crawled out of bed two hours ago. Not even reading her Bible and spending nearly an hour in prayer had lifted the foreboding. Maybe it was because today she would be forced to spend the day with Daniel at SeaWorld. And even worse, her son would. Though, in all honesty, Isaac seemed more excited than he had in a long time when she’d tucked him in last night. Which only increased her fears. She didn’t want him getting attached to Daniel. It was one thing if God wanted her to help Daniel and quite another to involve her son. He was too vulnerable to be taken in by the charming Daniel Cain. More than a dozen times in the past week, she’d wanted to call Daniel and cancel, but each time, she’d hesitated…how could she disappoint her son?
Now, as she switched to the independent news station she normally watched and opened the fridge to see what they had for breakfast, she determined that after today, she would keep her son as far away from Daniel as possible.
Unfortunately, the fridge was nearly bare. Grabbing a half loaf of bread, she slammed the door shut as the news blared—something about a NASA warning issued for incoming asteroids.
“How can you listen to that crap?” Leigh ambled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, her bunny slippers scuffing across the floor.
“Good morning to you, too.” Angelica smiled.
Grabbing a mug, Leigh poured herself some coffee. “Why don’t you listen to the regular news?” She spooned honey into her cup and stirred, then leaned back against the counter and took a sip. “Aww. Nectar of the gods.”
Angelica dropped the bread down on the counter and withdrew two slices as the newscaster droned on about earth entering a period of increased asteroid activity and a mysterious planet X. “I told you the mainstream news is all state propaganda. They’re not telling us the truth. Only what they want us to know.”
Leigh shrugged. “Maybe. But at least it doesn’t scare the heck out of me.”