The Runaway Pastor's Wife (42 page)

Weber Creek
,
Colorado

“We’re back here by the fire,” Mary Jean
Williamson called out at the sound of the bell over the front door. She got up
to greet her customers, surprised to see two unfamiliar faces. “Oh goodness,
pardon me—I didn’t expect any visitors in this kind of weather. Come on in,
boys!”

The two men entered the quaint country store
stomping snow off their shoes and rubbing their hands together.

“That’s some kind of storm out there, ma’am!”

“Oh, we like to make a show of it this time of
year, all right. You boys come back here by the fire and warm up. Can I get you
a cup of coffee? I’ve kept it warm on the Coleman.”

The two men headed for the back of the store.
“Why, don’t mind if we do at that. That’s real kind of you, ma’am.”

“Where you boys from?”

Her guests warmed their hands by the fire. She
looked up just in time to see them make eye contact with each other before one
of them answered. “Oh, we’re pretty far from home. We’re from down south.”

She handed them each a mug of coffee. “South of
here?”

The other one piped in this time. “Yeah, kinda
far from here. We was just passing through when this storm stopped us.”

His friend continued. “The roads are awful.
Almost bought the farm a few miles back. Couple of near misses. Never seen
anything like it before. So we figured we ought to find us some place to stop
for a while and wait it out.”

Mary Jean gestured for the two men to have a
seat in the rockers. “That’s not a bad idea. I guess you heard the road just
west of here is closed, so you wouldn’t have gotten far anyway. Logging truck
took the curve too fast and lost its whole load. Oh, it’s a real pickle out
there. Even knocked our power out. And now our phone lines are down. Glory be,
what a mess.”

For reasons she couldn’t guess, the silence felt
uncomfortable. “Yes, well, how can I help you gentlemen?”

“We was wondering if there was any place around
here we could get a room for the night since it looks like we may be stuck here
awhile.”

The other man grimaced and cleared his throat.
“What Gus here means is we need a place to ride out this storm. Any place you
might be able to recommend?”

“Just down the street and around the corner is
the Weber Creek Inn. Real nice place. I’m sure the Carters will be happy to
help you out as best they can, all things considered.”

“MJ, who are you talking to?” Bob’s voice
drifted from the back room.

“Just a couple of stranded travelers who stopped
by for a bit. That’s my husband, Bob. Now, is there anything else I can help
you with? Anything from the store here you need?”

Gus patted his pocket. “You got cell phone
chargers?”

“We carry a few. Let’s go see if we’ve got what
you need.” Mary Jean headed for the next aisle.

Gus followed her, pleased when they located the
exact brand his phone required. He smiled warmly at her. “Well, that’s just
great. Thank you, ma’am. I truly appreciate it.”

“No problem. Anything else?” Mary Jean made her
way toward the register.

“Actually, I was just
wondering . . . ”

“Yes?”

“Well, my buddy and I are trying to find a
friend of ours. He was headed up into this area just a few days ago. So I was
wondering if maybe you might have seen him. Tall, muscular, brown hair, real
handsome like?”

“Hmmm, not so as I remember, but let me ask my
other half. Bob? Honey, have you seen anybody new around here lately? A tall
muscular guy with brown hair?”

“Nope. No one by that description, anyhow. But
we’ll keep our eyes open. If we hear anything, we’ll get word over to you boys
at the
Inn
. That
okay?”

“That works just fine. Come on, Marcus, let’s
go.”

CHAPTER 32

Seminole,
Florida

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Sally handed
him the order of worship for the Wednesday evening service.

“Probably not, but it’s what I’ve got to do.”
David pulled his sweater over his denim shirt, then attached the wireless
microphone to his collar.

“By the way,” she added, “I never got through to
Chet. I left several messages at his home and also at the school office, but so
far no response.”

“Gee, why am I not surprised?” He stiffened,
standing a little too tall as a smirk skirted his face. “He’s scared of me, no
doubt. Probably shaking in his boots somewhere as we speak. Keep trying.” He
winked then headed for the sanctuary.

Throwing open the side door to the auditorium,
he bounced up the steps to the platform. Instantly, a hush fell over the
sanctuary. His face warmed as he headed for his chair.

The keyboard player began quietly playing. Then
slowly, applause broke out, spreading through the crowd until it drowned out
the music.

David looked up, surprised to see his
congregation on their feet, looking straight at him with smiles on their faces.
A lump caught in his throat.

He held up his hand, acknowledging their
spontaneous gesture of love. The applause grew louder until it thundered
against the rafters.

Finally, he got up and approached the pulpit. He
raised both his hands to quiet them. The roar subsided. He attempted to regain
his composure as he looked around the auditorium. All around him, faces beamed
with affection.

“You are . . . the
best
.”
His voice cracked but he didn’t care. Clearing his throat, he started again.
“If ever a man felt the love of God through human expression . . . I can’t tell
you how much I needed that.”

He smiled at them through misty eyes. A familiar
voice chimed from the front row. “We love you, Pastor.”

“Thank you, Belinda—everyone.” He paused a
moment to gather his thoughts. “These last few days have been a nightmare for
us, as you know. I’ve known disappointment and heartache before, but this has
been—” He paused, swallowed. “So hard.” He took a deep breath, determined to
continue.

“But even when I’ve been weak, God has been
there for me. Of course, that’s something I preach to you all the time. He
promises to always be there for us.
Always.
Even when I lost my patience
or lost my temper and—”

“That’s enough, Pastor McGregor,” a voice boomed
from the back of the auditorium.

David searched the crowd. Murmurs waved through
the congregation. On the far right-hand side, last pew, he spotted him.

Chet Harrison stood up, straightening his coat
jacket, adjusting his tie as if he had all the time in the world. He began to
make his way down the aisle taking a deliberate, slow stride.

“I have something that needs to be said right
here and right now.” He stepped up onto the platform, approaching the pulpit
without making eye contact.

David shrugged. “Chet, I don’t think this is the
time to—”

“It has come to my attention that the church
family is not fully aware of all the facts in this unfortunate crisis in your
family.”

 His hand covering the microphone on his collar,
David quietly pleaded with him. “Chet, please. Can’t we—”

Chet jerked his arm loose from David’s touch and
reached for the pulpit microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as a long-time devoted
member of this church family, I am compelled to speak to you.”

“Sit down, Chet! You’re out of order!” a voice
yelled from the middle of the room.

He held up his hands, cocking his head to the
side. “On the contrary. There are times when situations may circumvent the
usual way of doing things, and this is one of those times.”

David stepped aside, folding his arms across his
chest.
Go ahead. Get it out of your system. Have your five minutes of fame.

“
No one is more sympathetic than
I about the difficult week that has occurred in this man’s family. All of us
grieve for what must surely be a heart-wrenching experience for Pastor
McGregor, his children, his mother—”

David looked across at the pew where his mother
always sat. Their eyes met and he felt her prayers.

“And while we may not fully understand why his
wife has suddenly disappeared—”

“Chet, I’m begging you,” David tried one more
time.

“—I am quite uncomfortable with some of the
facts coming out of this situation. While I would not think to discuss these
matters here in the house of our gracious Lord, I am nevertheless obliged to
inform the church family of my opinion—and that of several others among us—that
our Pastor is not fit to serve at this time and should be relieved of his
position of leadership.”

Boos and shouts erupted across the room, rolling
through the crowd like a tsunami. A number of deacons stood, but they were too
late. Chet nodded his head ever so slightly. His ready followers quickly filed
across the front of the sanctuary. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they formed a
human chain between the platform and the congregation.

A hush swept over the crowd. Several of the elderly
ladies up front whispered among themselves. In the aisles now, the deacons
slowed their pace as they watched the scene unfold.

Chet tapped the microphone forcing the room back
into silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am not here to offend or upset you. But
we cannot leave the leadership of this body of believers in the hands of a man
who is emotionally unstable. Our just and righteous God would not have us do
that.”

David moved back to his chair, sat down and
buried his face in his hands.

Chet continued. “I feel as much compassion as
any one of you, as all of you. But duty dictates that we must do the right
thing. As I have said, there are facts you do not know—”

“Such as what!” shouted one of the deacons on
the side aisle. “You claim to know something, Chet. So spit it out!”

David looked up just as Chet took a handkerchief
out of his pocket to wipe his brow.
Ever the drama king.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, I assure you.
But word has come to me that our pastor’s wife has disappeared all right. Right
into the arms of another man.”

A split second of silence. Before the shouts of
protest could pass the lips of his congregation, David flew out of his seat,
grabbing Chet Harrison by the back of his neck. Whirling the arrogant chump
around to face him, he reared back and belted him right in the nose.
Harrison
fell
back onto the floor as absolute silence paralyzed the brethren.

Oblivious to everything else, David reached out
to pull up his adversary by his bloodied shirt only to feel himself being
pulled away from his target. “Let me go!” he cried. “He can’t get away with
this! He has no right to—”

Chet crawled backward across the carpeted
platform, yelling, “Help me! Somebody help me! He’s crazy!”

David watched the surreal scene unfold around
him.

Geneva Harrison ran to the front of the room
howling for her poor husband.

Mary Bloom, the oldest member of the church at
ninety-seven, fainted, sliding under the front pew like a piece of linguine.
Sitting at the end of her aisle, PJ Ludwinski rushed to her side shouting in
Polish. Her elderly friends wailed their dismay.

Men throughout the auditorium rushed forward,
attempting to break through the barrier of Chet’s men. Fist-fights broke out
among them like a WWF brawl. Steve Anderson was shoved from behind by Dwight
Eggers, one of Chet’s men. In retaliation, Steve picked up his contender and
threw him over his shoulder. The feisty little guy bonked him on the head,
causing Steve to lose his balance. With the room spinning around him, Steve
began to twirl around and around until he let go of his captive who catapulted
against a stained glassed window, crashing on impact. The sight and sound of it
sickened David.

He turned in time to see Mary Bloom’s minion of
friends come to her rescue. Leaving her to their care, PJ shuffled up to the
platform. He checked to make sure David was safe under the protection of his
friends, their eyes locking as the old man frowned in obvious concern for him.
David’s stomach churned as he saw PJ turn his attention to Chet. The troublemaker
lay with his head in
Geneva
’s lap, a handkerchief held to
his nose to stop the bleeding.

“Shame on you!” PJ shouted, trying to push his
way through the crowd of people. “You big blow hole! You see this?” he taunted,
holding up a gnarled fist. “Let me at him!” He elbowed his way against the wall
of men. “Nobody talks to David that way! Nobody!”

Then, amidst the mass confusion, David noticed
the back doors of the church fly open. There, his own mother-in-law, her face
flushed with excitement, escorted in a television crew.

“All right! This is great stuff!” A smiling
camera man began to roll tape.