High Plains Hearts (3 page)

He came into the entryway off the kitchen and stamped the snow from his feet.

“I’m ready,” he announced, kneeling and rubbing Cora’s waiting ears. “We can take my car. I left it idling so it’d be warm.”

A smile curved her lips. “Better turn it off because we’re walking.”

“Walking? Are you serious? It’s freezing outside, and there’s this white stuff called snow all over the sidewalks. Say, this isn’t one of those ‘work up an appetite’ ploys, is it?”

“No, Silly. Trust me.”

She pulled on her boots and coat and, after saying good-bye to Cora and promising her turkey leftovers, led him back to the sidewalk. He reached inside the late-model sedan, which Tess knew carried a very expensive price tag, and turned off the ignition.

“Okay, let’s go!” Tess said. “Just pretend we’re arctic explorers. It’ll be fun.”

“Way cool. Too way cool,” he grumbled. “And the pun is definitely intended. We’ve just met, and already you’re trying to kill me for my insurance money. Well, it won’t work. It just won’t work. Mom’s my beneficiary, so there.” He glared at her with mock suspicion. “She didn’t put you up to this, did she?”

“You nut,” Tess answered, poking him with her elbow.

They crossed the street and trudged through half a block of snow-covered sidewalks before Tess tugged on his arm. “Let’s go in here.”

Jake peered at the white stone church in front of him. “Nativity Church,” he read from a sign by the steps. “Why, this is charming!”

“Ah, you’re just saying that because you’re cold, and if this is our destination, it means you don’t have to walk anymore.”

“That might color my opinion,” he confessed playfully, “but I am truly serious. This is an absolutely delightful church!”

A tall man with thinning hair and an open smile met them inside the door. “Hi, Tess! The others aren’t here yet, but if you want to go on down and—oh, in the glare of the sunlight I didn’t see your friend.” He stuck out his hand toward Jake. “I’m Reverend Barnes.”

“Jake Cameron,” Jake said, taking Reverend Barnes’s hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “I hope you don’t mind my coming. Tess said—”

“Everyone’s welcome. Glad we could treat you to a hot meal and some fellowship. Not necessary to explain why,” he continued as Jake tried to stop the well-meaning pastor’s words. “We all have times when we need a little something. Maybe food, maybe companionship. Certainly in these hard—”

Tess interrupted gently. “Reverend Barnes, Jake’s here to help with the dinner.”

Reverend Barnes wasn’t at all nonplussed. He tilted his head back and laughed with a joy that seemed to boom to heaven itself. “Welcome, welcome,” he said, grasping Jake’s hand again. “Glad to have you with us, son.”

Another couple arrived, and the minister’s attention turned to them. Tess guided Jake down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Who comes to this dinner, anyway?” he asked as Tess tossed him a large white apron.

“Well, as Reverend Barnes already said, some people come because this is the only way they’ll get a decent meal today. Others come because of the companionship that’s offered.” Her eyes met his. “I come because it reminds me that one of the things I have to be thankful for is that I am blessed with food and friendship.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “But shouldn’t it be more than that? Those in need—surely their purpose isn’t to remind us of our blessings.”

His words took Tess by surprise. She’d never thought about it that way. Certainly he had a point. She hadn’t examined this closely enough.

“Can you explain?” she asked.

“Not really,” he answered, and she appreciated the honesty in his voice. “But it does seem rather egocentric to think the role of the hungry is to make us aware of how good it feels not to be hungry.”

“You’ve posed a good question, son.” Reverend Barnes’s deep voice filled the kitchen as he joined them. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I might be able to help.”

“Please do,” Jake said.

“Maybe if you flip the picture over, it’ll make more sense. For the hungry what purpose does being fed serve? Rather than thinking of what this does for us, we should be asking what it does for those in need. We should focus on them. Being hungry is a wrong that must be righted. And we here today are simply agents of that change. In serving this food we serve at a greater table.”

He smiled benevolently at Tess. “It should make us feel better, helping out today, but it shouldn’t make us complacent. For many people hunger is an ever-present enemy of happiness. We need to do what we can to feed the hungry. It’s what Jesus wants.”

He handed Jake a folding chair and smiled. “Now that I’ve solved that problem, it’s back to work for me. I’ve got to come up with some inspirational words for tonight’s dinner.”

“Wow,” Jake breathed as Reverend Barnes turned and raced back up the steps, like a man half his age. “It seems to me he’s already come up with some incredibly inspirational words.”

“He is astonishing,” Tess agreed. “He has the ability to see right through to the center of things. Even if I hadn’t been a member of Nativity since I was born, I’d be here because of him.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Where do I start with these chairs?”

A twinge of concern creased through the satisfaction of the day. He had changed the subject so quickly—but why? He didn’t seem to be trying to avoid the matter; yet he certainly didn’t seem inclined to pursue it.

Her musings were interrupted by a stream of people carrying foil-wrapped turkeys and mysterious casserole dishes that smelled wonderful. The kitchen exploded with the joy of many hands cooking.

Jake fell into the role of chief chair-placer quite easily. Tess found herself taking pleasure in the relaxed way he became part of the group and the openness with which her church friends accepted him.

She found herself watching him and the way he interacted with the others. A small movement behind him caught her eye: Reverend Barnes moved toward his wife. For a slice of a moment the minister and his wife glanced at each other, and Tess could tell that volumes passed unspoken—in a muted language only they understood. Then Reverend Barnes sloped his head down and dropped a gentle kiss on his wife’s forehead.

A surprising, new hunger washed over Tess. That same degree of closeness and understanding the minister and his wife had—she wanted it, suddenly wanted it, but with whom? Could it be that having Jake there today was bringing this to the forefront? A hole in her life had become a gaping, aching wound of lonely need.

“He’s a keeper, I think.” The voice belonged to Ellen Smalley, the organist. The tiny woman had always reminded Tess of a wren, small, drab, and twittering but completely harmless. Tess had adored her since she had been a small child in the Carolers’ Choir in grade school.

Tess tried to collect her scattered thoughts. “He’s not mine to keep.”

Mrs. Smalley’s brow furrowed. “He’s not married, is he?”

“Oh no.” Tess couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that arose at Mrs. Smalley’s obvious relief. “I mean he’s just a customer of mine. There’s not anything going on between us.”

Mrs. Smalley nodded, clearly not believing a word Tess was saying. “Give it time, honey—give it time.”

“No, no.” Tess tried to object, but the furious heat she felt pouring up her throat was making things worse. Why on earth had God decided to make her a blusher?

To make things worse, Jake chose that moment to look at her and wink. Mrs. Smalley laughed out loud. “You know,” she said close to Tess’s ear, “there is a phrase ‘match made in heaven.’ ”

This was too much!

But heaven intervened and saved her as the first of the hungry and lonely trickled past on their way to the small dining room.

Thanksgiving dinner had begun.

For the next two hours Tess was too busy to give Jake much thought, although their eyes did meet frequently over steamy bowls of stuffing and corn as she passed them from the kitchen to the serving area.

Eventually, however, the area moved from organized chaos to a diminished roar and then to an exhausted but satisfied calm. The workers drooped into the now-vacant folding chairs, and Tess smiled as Jake collapsed into the one adjoining hers.

“Whew.” He ran his fingers through his work-ruffled hair.

A single voice began to sing softly, and soon the others joined in: “ ‘We gather together….’ ” Tess’s soft alto was joined by Jake’s strong baritone, and they smiled at each other as they united in the familiar Thanksgiving hymn.

He sang the hymn from memory. Tess’s heart lifted again.

But her hopes were deflated quickly as, when the song ended, he sighed. “I learned that early on. We sang it every year in school at Thanksgiving. I’ve always loved it.”

He learned it in school.

She fought against the disappointment. But before she could phrase a prayer, words of assurance came, this time from Reverend Barnes.

“We’ve done a good thing here today, but feeding over a hundred people a rollicking good turkey dinner isn’t enough. I hope we’ve done more than send them out with warm food in their bodies. A full stomach doesn’t mean a lot if there isn’t a full soul to go with it. Let us pray that today we fed those whose souls were already full, and those whose souls were hungry. Let this food be our testimony to Jesus Christ.”

She heard several fervent amens.

Reverend Barnes continued as he reminded them of one of Tess’s favorite passages from the Bible: “When Jesus said, ‘I was hungry, and you fed Me,’ was He talking about turkey dinners only? Or should we search for more in His words? What lesson do we take forward with us from this day?”

The group silently considered the minister’s words. Tess found herself returning yet once more to Jake’s presence today and her role in it. Was he one of those Reverend Barnes had referred to as those with hungry souls? If so, had her words and actions been witness enough?

“Bless you all for what you have done. No matter how small, every effort grows when united with others. Have a blessed Thanksgiving, my friends, and don’t forget the leftovers. You’ve earned them!”

Soft laughter spread through the small gathering, and, one by one, people stood up, stretched, and returned again to the kitchen for one last stop—the take-home containers Tess and Mrs. Smalley had packed during the last minutes of the dinner for each of the workers.

Neither Jake nor Tess spoke until they were out of the church. The night sky overhead was clear and cloudless, and stars sprinkled the deep indigo with dots of silver. If she looked hard enough, she could see all the way to heaven, she thought.

Their breath plumed outward as they stopped, by silent mutual agreement, and took in the view.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Jake said at last.

“Actually I didn’t. You invited yourself,” she teased him.

“So I did.” He chuckled softly. “Are you sorry?”

“No. I’m not.” Her eyes met his in an honest gaze. “I’m glad you came.”

“You know, I’m beginning to rethink my opinion of downtown,” he said. “I’m starting to see what you find so appealing here. It does have a life of its own I was never aware of.” He chuckled again. “And I don’t feel at all threatened by this great long walk at night.”

As they started the short trek back to her house, her foot found a slick patch on the walk, and she began to slip. He took her hand to steady her.

He held her hand, mittened fingers closed in mittened fingers, the entire way to her house.

“Thank you again,” he said, still holding her hand. “This has been a Thanksgiving I will never forget.”

“Nor will I,” she agreed.

“Your church is as friendly and warm as you are.” His dark eyes seemed to be saying something she couldn’t read so she took the plunge.

“You know you’re always welcome at Nativity.” When he seemed still to be waiting for her to say more, she added, “If you’d like, you can go with me to a service.”

“That’s an invitation I may take you up on someday,” he said, and his fingers tightened around hers before letting her hand go.

He turned and walked away.

Tess stood outside and watched him drive off. His car seemed so big, and so empty.

She went inside her house and gave Cora the leftovers. As the cat gulped down the turkey tidbits, Tess went into the store to double-check the front-door lock. The glow from the streetlight outside caught on a sideways gleam—that of a halo, once again tipped.

Faith. They had both forgotten about her.

He’d be back. He didn’t have any choice. She still had his angel, his Faith.

Tess’s evening prayer centered around Jake as she sought guidance on living as a witness. The answer was not quite what she had expected: She remembered another Bible verse, this one from Hebrews, that Reverend Barnes could have easily used. “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

Could it be? Maybe the one needing the witness had been her? Had she, the expert on angels, been in the presence of some tonight? Which stranger might fit the bill? One of those in need of warm food? One in need of a warm heart?

Jake’s image sprang into her mind.

“Flip the picture,” Reverend Barnes had advised.

“Wow,” breathed Tess. “Wow.”

N
ot that Tess thought he was an angel! No, if anything, Jake was on the other end of the celestial spectrum.

Actually, that wasn’t fair. He had volunteered to help out at the church dinner, and so far he’d given her no indication he wasn’t a Christian. And, that little annoying niggling voice inside reminded her, he’d also given her no indication he was a Christian.

But she was getting off track. “Maybe,” she said to Cora, who had finished her feast of turkey leftovers and was cleaning her whiskers with satisfaction, “I should be worrying less about his soul and more about mine.”

Cora was too stuffed even to meow, it seemed. Instead she strolled over to her spot beside the heating vent and collapsed in sated ecstasy.

“You glutton,” Tess said. “Here I am in moral turmoil, and all you can do is purr.”

Cora opened one heavy eyelid and stared at her.

“You’re right, as usual,” Tess told the cat. “I can’t expect God to answer my prayers just like that”—she snapped her fingers—“and in a way I’m necessarily going to like. Maybe what I need to do now is get out of God’s way on this and let Him work through me, instead of trying to make Him work through me.”