Gold in the Fire and Light in the Storm (16 page)

To my readers—I appreciate your support.

To my local RWA chapter, Romance Writers Ink—You are a wonderful group of writers.

W
ith 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 nts.”

“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.”