Kitabı oku: «The Ladies of Sweetwater Lake»
“Are you sure I can’t pay you
for tutoring Jane?”
“No. We’ve been through this before, Samuel. I don’t want your money. I’m doing this for your daughter.”
“Then at least let me take you out for dinner.”
“I don’t—”
“Please, Beth. I feel like I should do something for you.”
She paused on the porch, looking back at Samuel framed in the doorway with the light behind him and his features in the shadows. Dinner? Like a real date? The more she found out about Samuel, the more she liked him—and he didn’t fit into her future plans at all, especially with his ready-made family.
THE LADIES OF SWEETWATER LAKE:
Like a wedding ring, this circle of friends
is never ending.
GOLD IN THE FIRE (LI #273)
A MOTHER FOR CINDY (LI #283)
LIGHT IN THE STORM (LI #297)
MARGARET DALEY
feels she has been blessed. She has been married thirty-three years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun, who married his high school sweetheart in June 2002.
Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.
Light in the Storm
MILLS & BOON
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With us is the Lord our God
to help us and to fight our battles.
—2 Chronicles 32:8
To my readers—I appreciate your support.
To my local RWA chapter, Romance Writers Ink—
You are a wonderful group of writers.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Beth and Samuel’s story in Light in the Storm. I am a high school teacher who has worked with students with learning disabilities. It is important to convey to them that they have strengths as well as weaknesses. Sometimes we dwell on our weaknesses and our self-esteem suffers for it. Yes, we need to be aware of what we need to work on, but no one is perfect. Jane needed to learn that in this story, as did Beth and Samuel.
Another aspect of my story was Beth’s battle with breast cancer. With it being one of the common forms of cancer for women, I wanted to stress the importance of early detection. One way is monthly self-examination. There is a Buddy Check program that advocates a woman forming a partnership with a friend or family member; each reminds the other to self-check monthly.
I love hearing from my readers. You can contact me at P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101, or visit my Web site at www.margaretdaley.com.
Best wishes,
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
With a huff Jane Morgan plopped into her desk. “I don’t see why I have to be here.”
Beth Coleman sighed, turned from watching the snow falling outside Sweetwater High School and said, “Because you’ll be the topic of conversation. It’s your future we’ll be discussing. I thought you should have a say in it.”
Flipping her long, dark brown hair behind her shoulders, Jane slouched in her desk, her arms folded over her chest, a pout firmly in place. “What future? Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be here.”
Beth again looked at the snow coming down and wondered if this was the best time to have a parent conference. Of course, when she had contacted Jane’s father yesterday, there hadn’t been any snow. “Does your father have a cell phone?” Maybe she should call him and cancel until the weather was better. She could drive Jane home.
“Yes.”
As with Jane’s performance in class the past few weeks since the teenager had enrolled at the beginning of the second semester, Beth realized she would have to ask what the number was, because Jane wouldn’t give any information unless she absolutely had to. “What is—”
“Sorry I’m late, but as you can see, the weather is getting bad.” A large man with blond hair and brown eyes stood framed in the classroom doorway.
Speechless for a few seconds, Beth just stared at Jane’s father. Samuel Morgan wasn’t anything like her image of him when she’d talked to him briefly the day before. His voice was gruff and deep, but his looks were refined—handsome but not ruggedly so. More along the lines of a male model she’d seen in a magazine selling cologne. Whoa! Why in the world had she thought that?
Beth mentally shook her head and crossed the room. Presenting her hand, which he took in a firm grip and shook, she said, “I’m Jane’s English teacher, Beth Coleman. Please come in and have a seat—unless you’d rather reschedule this meeting because of the snow. It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon.”
He shrugged out of his heavy black wool overcoat, ran a hand through his wet, conservatively cut hair and entered the room. “No, this is too important to postpone. And besides, I’m here, so we might as well talk now. Don’t you agree, Jane?”
When Samuel squeezed into the desk next to his daughter, Beth noticed how he dwarfed it, even though it was standard size for a high school class. She knew he was a minister, and yet for a brief moment he seemed more a warrior than a peacemaker.
“Sure. Why not?” Jane averted her face, staring off into space, defiance in every line of her body.
“On the phone, Miss Coleman, you said that Jane was having a problem with the work you’ve assigned.”
Beth took a desk near the pair, scooting it around so she faced both of them. “She isn’t doing any of the work. She’s been here nearly two weeks and I have yet to see anything from her. We’ve had four graded assignments so far this semester. She has a zero right now.”
“Not one grade?” Samuel asked Jane, his tension conveyed by his clenched jaw and frown.
His daughter lifted her shoulders in a shrug, but didn’t say a word, her head remaining turned away.
“Is there a problem I’m not aware of?” Beth saw a flash of vulnerability appear in his dark eyes before he masked the expression. It touched a part of her that over the years had seen many single parents struggle to do the job of both mother and father.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve just moved here.” He glanced at his daughter. “Jane has never adjusted well to new towns.”
“How many times have you moved?”
“This is our sixth move. I was a chaplain in the army until recently. We’re both looking forward to settling down in one place.”
“Adjusting to a new town can be tough. If Jane’s willing to work and stay after school to make up the assignments, I’ll take them late this time.”
“What do you say, Jane?” Samuel leaned forward, his hands laced together on top of the desk. His whitened knuckles indicated nothing casual in the gesture.
His daughter, silent, peered at the snow falling, as though she hadn’t heard the question.
“Jane?” A firmness entered his deep, gruff voice.
She swung her gaze to her father, her pout deepening. Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared at him, several emotions vying for dominance. Anger won out over a need to please.
“Would you rather the zeros remain on your grade?” he asked with an underlying calm that amazed Beth.
Samuel Morgan was the new reverend of Sweetwater Community Church, where she attended. It was obvious that he had a great deal of patience, if his dealings with his daughter were any indication. That was comforting to know, since Reverend Collins, their previous minister, had been beloved by all in the congregation.
Jane sighed, straightening in the desk. “If you must know, I didn’t understand a couple of the assignments.”
“Did you ask Miss Coleman for help?”
“No.”
“Jane, I’ll be glad to help you when you stay to complete the work. And for that matter, any other assignment you have trouble with. All you have to do is ask me for help. That’s part of my job.”
The teenager looked at Beth as if she thought Beth was crazy to think she was going to ask for any assistance on an assignment, especially in a class of thirty students. Beth wondered if something else was going on beneath Jane’s defiance. It wasn’t that unusual to see a teen rebel, but Beth sensed a troubled soul begging for help. She made a mental note to check with the young woman to see if she understood her homework assignments. Sometimes when a student moved a lot, she lost ground because curriculum wasn’t always the same in each school.
“Miss Coleman, Jane will stay after school every day until she has made up her work. Since I pick her up, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Beth slipped from the desk. “We can start Monday. Hopefully the weather will be clear by then.”
Samuel rose. “She’ll be here.”
Jane shoved herself out of the desk, pushing it several inches across the hardwood floor. “Maybe we’re in for a blizzard.”
“We don’t often have blizzards in Sweetwater,” Beth said with a smile. Even as a teacher she enjoyed the occasional snow day when school was canceled.
“That’s good to hear, because it sure is snowing hard now,” Samuel said, looking toward the window.
“Now, that’s something to pray about,” Jane mumbled, starting for the door.
Samuel watched his daughter leave the classroom. “Sorry about that, Miss Coleman.”
“Please call me Beth. I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I attend Sweetwater Community Church.”
His brows rose. “You do? I didn’t see you there last week.”
“I’m sorry I missed your first Sunday, but I was taking my brother to college in Louisville. He just started this semester and he had to move into the dorm.”
“Then I look forward to seeing you this Sunday.” His gaze again slid to the window. “That is, if we don’t have that blizzard my daughter is praying for.”
Beth fitted her hand in his to shake goodbye and was conscious of something else beside its firmness—a warmth. A warmth that shot up her arm and made her very aware of the man before her. The warrior impression she’d received earlier was tempered with the calmness he’d exhibited when dealing with his daughter. He gave off mixed messages, which intrigued Beth. She suspected he was more adept at listening to other people’s problems than telling anyone his.
“Tomorrow the sun will be shining. Mark my words, Reverend Morgan.”
“Hope you’re right, Miss—Beth. And please call me Samuel.” He walked toward the door, turned back and added, “I still have a lot to do to finish moving in and bad weather definitely puts a damper on things.”
Before she realized what she was really doing, Beth asked, “Can I help with anything?” The second the words were out of her mouth, she bit down on her lower lip. Her first weekend in years without any obligations, and she was volunteering to help the reverend put his house in order. When would she learn? She didn’t have to be there for everyone. It was okay to take some time for herself.
He chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I know how many papers English teachers have to grade. My children and I will get it done…if not this weekend, then the next.”
When he left, Beth walked to the window and stared at the swirling mass of white, watching for Jane and Samuel to come out the front door. When they emerged, they were quickly obscured by the blowing snow. She loved cold weather and the occasional snow they had in Sweetwater. It brought out the child she’d never been allowed to be. But this storm might be worse than she had originally thought.
Beth headed for her desk and quickly gathered those papers that the reverend had mentioned, stuffing them into her briefcase to grade over the weekend. But she promised herself as she left her classroom that she would find some time to make a snowman and give him a carrot for his nose and pieces of bark for his eyes and mouth.
After pulling her cap down over her ears and tying her wool scarf around her neck, Beth exited the school building and walked toward where she knew she had parked her white car, even though in the driving snow it wasn’t visible. Halfway to the parking lot she spied her Jeep and quickened her steps. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blue Ford Mustang with the reverend and Jane standing next to it.
Why haven’t they left? Beth wondered, and changed her destination.
“Something wrong?” she asked as she approached the pair arguing while the snow blew around them.
Samuel stopped what he was going to say to his daughter and glanced toward Beth. “I was for going back inside and getting help. Jane was for hiking home.” He gestured toward his car. “Won’t start.”
“You probably can’t get anyone out here to help right now. Every tow truck will be busy just trying to haul people out of ditches. I can give you a ride home and you can see what’s wrong with your car tomorrow—if this snow lets up.”
“You’re not going to get an argument out of me. Where are you parked?”
Beth waved her hand toward her five-year-old Jeep Cherokee. “I don’t usually have too much trouble in the snow.”
As they trudged toward the Jeep, Jane mumbled something under her breath. If her tight-lipped expression was any hint, Beth was glad she hadn’t heard what the teenager had said. When Beth reached her car, she unlocked her doors and slid inside while Jane plopped herself in the back seat and Samuel climbed into the front.
“You’re staying at the rectory, aren’t you?” Beth asked, starting the engine.
“Yes. I hope it isn’t too far out of your way.”
“Practically on my way home.”
Samuel stared out the windshield. “Can I help you scrape the windows clear of snow? I’m not sure how much good it will do, as fast as the snow is coming down.”
Turning a knob on the dashboard, Beth cranked up the heat. “Let me warm up the car first, then we’ll see what can be done about the windows.” She peered over her shoulder. “Jane, I’ve got two scrapers under the front seat. Can you reach them for me?”
With her mouth slashing downward, Jane produced the two scrapers and thrust them at Beth.
“In fact, since we’re inconveniencing you, Jane and I will take care of the windows while you stay warm in here,” Samuel offered.
“Dad,” Jane protested.
“Yes? Do you have a problem with that? You can always walk like you wanted to a few minutes ago.”
Jane folded her arms across her chest, her hands clenched, and stared out the side, muttering under her breath.
Beth started to decline the offer of help, but she caught Samuel’s look. He shook his head as though he knew what she was going to say and wanted her to accept their assistance. She snapped her mouth closed and gave him the scrapers.
While Samuel and Jane cleared the snow and ice built up on the windows, Beth watched, feeling guilty that she was warm while they were freezing. She didn’t accept help well and this was making her very uncomfortable, especially when she saw Jane’s face set in a frown, her cheeks red from the cold, her body beginning to shake because she was dressed in a short skirt with a heavy jacket that covered her only to her waist. Except for a pair of half boots, large portions of the teenager’s legs were exposed to the fierce elements. At least she wore gloves, Beth thought, tapping her hand against the steering wheel to keep herself from snatching the scraper from Jane and finishing the job.
Ten minutes later father and daughter settled back into the Jeep, their sighs indicating they relished the warmth. Beth’s guilt soared. She had a problem with wanting to do everything for everyone else. She had to learn to say no and to let others do for her. Darcy and Jesse were always telling her that at their Saturday get-togethers. She should listen to her friends. But it was tough to go against ingrained behavior.
Negotiating out of the parking lot, Beth drove slowly, glad that most people were off the roads and hopefully safely in their homes. “Too much longer and I’m afraid we would have been stuck at school.”
Jane gave a choking sound, which caused her father to send a censuring look her way. Having raised three siblings as well as teaching high schoolers for the past fifteen years, Beth understood the inner workings of a teenage mind. Jane fitted into the category of those who hated school and would rather be anywhere but there—hence her desire to strike out and walk home in a snowstorm, even though she wasn’t dressed properly for any kind of walk.
“Where were you last stationed in the army?” Beth asked, hating the silence that had descended.
With his gaze fixed on the road ahead, Samuel said, “Leavenworth.”
“Where the prison is?”
“Yes.”
“Stuck in the middle of nowhere,” Jane offered from the back seat.
“Were you ever stationed overseas?”
“Germany and Japan, which gave us a chance to see that part of the world.”
Thinking of all the places she would love to visit, Beth chanced a quick look toward Samuel. “That must have been interesting.”
“If you could speak the language,” Jane said.
Beth heard the pout in the teenager’s voice, but didn’t turn to look at her. She could imagine the crossed arms and defiant expression on the girl’s face, often a permanent part of her countenance. “True. That could be a problem, but they have such wonderful programs for teaching languages. I’ve been using a taped series to learn Spanish.”
“I always tried to learn at least some of the language when we were stationed in a country. Japanese was hard, but I found German easy, especially to read.” Samuel shifted in his seat, taking his attention from the road. With a smile he asked, “Have you traveled much?”
Beth shook her head. “But that’s about to change. My brother’s at college, so as of a week ago I have no one left at home.” Beth recalled the mixed emotions she had experienced when she had said goodbye to Daniel at school. Elation at the sense of freedom she now had mingled with sadness that he would be starting a part of his life without her.
“Are you planning on going somewhere they speak Spanish?”
“Yes, but I don’t know where yet. I’m going to spread a map of Central and South America out in front of me and throw a dart. I’m going where it lands.”
Samuel chuckled. “An unusual method of planning a vacation.”
“It won’t be a vacation. I want to live there, for a while at least.”
“What about Brazil? That takes up a good portion of South America, and they speak Portuguese.”
“I understand there are a lot of similarities between the two languages. If I end up in Brazil, it will just make the adventure even more exciting.”
“So when are you going to throw that dart?”
“Soon. I’m thinking of having a party and inviting all my friends to be there for the big moment.” Saying out loud what she had been toying with for the past few months made her firm the decision to have a party in celebration of a new phase in her life, even though she rarely threw parties.
Beth pulled up in front of the rectory, a large two-story white Victorian house that sat next to the Sweetwater Community Church. “Tomorrow call Al’s Body Shop. He should be able to help you with your car. He’s a member of the church.”
Jane threw open the back door and jumped out, hurrying toward the front door, her uncomfortable-looking high-heeled short boots sinking beneath the blanket of snow.
Samuel observed his daughter for a few seconds, then turned to Beth. “Thanks for the ride. You’re a lifesaver. Are you sure you’ll be okay going home alone?”
“I’ll be fine. I only live three blocks over. If it gets too bad, I can always walk and then call Al’s tomorrow myself.”
“At least you’re more suitably dressed for a hike in the snow than my daughter. I’d better let you go.” He opened the door. “I’ll have a talk with Jane, and she’ll be there after school on Monday.”
As he climbed from the Jeep, Beth said, “See you Sunday.”
Samuel plodded toward the porch while Beth inched her car away from the curb. He was thankful she had been there to help them with a ride home. Just from the short time he had been around the woman he got the impression she went out of her way to assist people when she could. He liked that about her.
Picturing Beth in his mind, he smiled. Her blue eyes had sparkled with kindness and her generous mouth had curved with a smile meant to put a person at ease. He imagined she had a hard time keeping her reddish-brown hair tamed and in control, but he liked it, because every other aspect of Miss Beth Coleman was restrained, down to her neat gray dress and matching pumps. She probably thought of her long curly hair as her bane, while he thought it softened her prim and proper facade.
Taking one last look back, Samuel noticed the white Jeep quickly disappearing in the blowing snow. The bad weather had swept through so quickly that it had caught most people off guard. The only good thing about today was that Aunt Mae had arrived before the storm.
When he entered his house, where boxes were still stacked all over the place, delicious aromas teased him, causing his stomach to rumble. At least now with Aunt Mae here, they would have a decent meal instead of his feeble attempts at cooking. There was even a chance that his house would come together before summer vacation.
Shaking off the snow that still clung to him, he stomped his feet on the mat he was sure Aunt Mae had placed in front of the door, then shrugged out of his overcoat. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what his aunt was preparing for dinner. Onions. Garlic. Meat. Hoping it was her spaghetti, he headed toward the kitchen to see.
“Dad.”
Samuel stopped in the doorway into the den and peered over the mound of boxes to find his middle child on the floor with his bottom stuck up in the air while he tried to look under the couch. “Did you lose something, Craig?”
His son straightened, one hand clutched around his Game Boy. “Allie is hiding things again. Can’t you do something about her?”
“I’ll have a talk with her. How’s your room coming along?” Samuel asked, realizing his son must have gotten some of his things put away or the Game Boy wouldn’t be in his hand.
Craig hopped to his feet. “I’m through.”
“Good, son.” Samuel moved toward the kitchen, making a note to himself to check Craig’s room. His son’s version of clean was definitely not his.
In the kitchen Samuel found his aunt by the stove adding something to a big pot while his youngest stood on a chair next to her and stirred whatever was cooking in the big pan. “Smells wonderful. Spaghetti?”
Aunt Mae glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. That’s what Allie and Craig wanted. They said something about being tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“You know how hopeless I am in the kitchen.”
She tsked. “Samuel, after over two years you’d think I would have rubbed off on you.”
“Aunt Mae, don’t ever go away again,” Allie said in a serious voice while continuing to stir the sauce.
His aunt, a woman who obviously loved her own cooking, tousled Allie’s hair. “Hopefully my sister won’t hurt herself again. I didn’t like being away from you all.”
“Next time Aunt Kathy can come here instead of you going there.” Allie laid the spoon on the counter.
Visions of Mae’s older sister living with them sent panic through Samuel. He started to say something about his eight-year-old daughter’s suggestion.
Aunt Mae’s blue eyes twinkled and two dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Oh, sugar, that probably wouldn’t be too good of an idea. She’s very set in her ways. Besides, she was bedridden for a week and couldn’t travel.”
“Well, we missed you.” Allie threw her arms around Aunt Mae.
The older woman brushed back the few strands of gray hair that had come loose from her bun, fighting tears that had suddenly filled her eyes. “I missed you all.”
“Is that coffee on the stove?” Samuel asked, feeling his own emotions close to the surface—which he attributed to his exhaustion. He walked to the counter where some cups were set out and retrieved one.
As Samuel poured his coffee, he corralled his emotions and shoved them to the dark recesses of his mind. Aunt Mae had been a lifesaver after his wife died. When she had arrived on his doorstep, their lives had been in total chaos. Ruth’s death had hit him so hard that it had taken him months to see how much his children needed him. Thankfully Aunt Mae had been around to ease their sorrow, because he hadn’t been able to—something he still felt guilty about.
“Was everything all right at school with Jane?” Aunt Mae asked, opening the refrigerator and taking out the ingredients for a salad.
“Allie!” Craig’s voice echoed through the house.
His youngest daughter jumped down from the chair, scooted it back toward the table, then darted out of the kitchen.
“No doubt she hid more than Craig’s Game Boy.” Samuel shook his head as he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. “Jane’s having trouble in English. I’m going to check on Monday to see how she’s doing in her other classes.” He took a long sip of his coffee, relishing the hot drink after being out in the cold.
“She took her mother’s death harder than the other two.”
“She was really close to Ruth.” He drank some more to ease the constriction in his throat.
“Still, something else might be going on with her, Samuel. A good prayer might help.”
There was a time he had felt that way. Now he didn’t know if that would help his daughter. He kissed his aunt on the cheek. “You have good intuition. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Shouts from above drew Samuel’s attention. “I’d better go and referee those two.”
“Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
Samuel strode toward the stairs. He was the new minister of Sweetwater Community Church and he wasn’t even sure how effective prayer was. His house was still in chaos. He longed for the time he’d felt confident in the power of the Lord—before He had taken his wife and thrown his family into turmoil. He shouldn’t have taken this church assignment, but he was desperate. He wanted his old life back.
Beth took a paper cup filled with red fruit punch from the table next to the coffee urn, then backed off to allow the other parishioners to get their refreshments after the late service. Standing along the wall where all the congregation’s photos hung, she watched Samuel greet each person as they came into the rec hall. Her throat parched, she drank half the juice in several swallows. Over the past few days she had thought about the man more than she should. He and Jane had even plagued her dreams last night.
Jesse Blackburn approached with a cup of coffee. “So what do you think of our new minister?”
“Interesting sermon on redemption.”
“He’s a widower.”
“Yes, I know and, Jesse, don’t you get any ideas. As they say in the movies, I’m blowing this town come summer.”
Taking a sip of her coffee, Jesse stared at her over the rim of her cup. “You are?”
“Don’t act innocent. You know I’ve been planning this ever since Daniel decided to go to college.”
Jesse leaned back against the wall, a picture in nonchalance. “It seems I recall you saying something about a vacation.”
“It’s more than a vacation. In fact, you’ll have to do the annual Fourth of July auction this year, because I won’t be here.”
Her good friend splayed her hand across her chest. “You’re leaving me in charge?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You and Darcy will do a great job.”
“It won’t be the same without you. You’ve been doing it for the past ten or so years.”
“And I have made very good notes for you to follow.” Beth finished her punch, then crushed the paper cup into a ball. Frustration churned in her, making her feel as though she should shed her skin. “I’ll help you until May. Then you’re on your own.”
“Boswell’s a great organizer. I’ll put him on it.” Jesse straightened away from the wall. “Give the poor man something to do.”
“How’s it feel to have your own butler?”
Jesse laughed. “A bit funny, but Boswell’s more like a member of the family than anything. Now, if I could just get him and Gramps to get along. Thank goodness Gramps married Susan Reed and lives at her place.” She drained her coffee. “Are you sure you don’t want me to have a little dinner party for the new reverend?”
“I think you should have a party.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. “You do?”
“To help introduce him to the whole congregation, not just the single women.” Beth scanned the room for the man under discussion. He stood a few feet from the door, dressed in a black suit that accorded a nice contrast to his blond hair. The intent expression on his face while listening to Tanya Bolton gave Beth the impression he was a good listener, which was probably beneficial considering the needs of the people in the church. “What makes you think he’s looking for a woman?”
“The romantic in me. I just hate seeing people alone.”
“Jesse, I’m not alone. I have three siblings—who I grant you don’t live with me anymore, but are still around. And I have my friends. Reverend Morgan has three children. And I met his aunt this morning in Sunday-school class. She lives with him. That certainly isn’t alone.”
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