The Runaway Pastor's Wife (8 page)

“You bet I’m sick, George,” Bob answered. “I’m
sick of this cantankerous old woman snapping orders at me as if I were some
kind of hired help. Would you remind her that the name over the door was mine
long before she ever had the good sense to marry me?” Bob tried his best to
sound mad, but he was as always, totally unsuccessful.

Mary Jean tipped her head back and forth,
humming a familiar tune. She walked the basket over to Bob, pecked him on his
cheek, and started back to her task. Bob gave her a swat on her ample back side
then quickly made his getaway.

The doctor tracked his usual path over to the
coffee pot, filled the mug with “Doc” on the side, then shuffled toward one of
the rockers.

“MJ, come sit a spell and take a rest. Doctor’s
orders. Let’s enjoy this nice fire for a few minutes, shall we?”

And with those words began Doc’s daily visit as
he did each and every day of the year, weather permitting. It was one of Mary
Jean’s favorite times of the day. She and Doc Wilkins had grown up together not
far away in Remington. Though not related they had remained as close as a
brother and sister. Since the death of George’s wife some eight years ago, she
and Bob had become Doc’s family. The good doctor treasured their friendship
deeply. Mary Jean wiped her hands on her red bib apron, poured herself a cup of
coffee, and sighed heavily as she sat down in the rocker.

“Mercy, George, I just can’t seem to help myself
when I start in on Bob. Anybody else would think we hated each other by the way
we carry on.” She paused, sipping the hot coffee, then continued. “Funny how
over the years you just grow into a pattern of playfully picking on each other
’til before you know it, it becomes a silly way of showing affection. I suppose
that doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

“Makes sense to me,” Doc said, rocking quietly.
“Ina and I had our own special ways of doing the same thing. Nobody else would
understand at all. Like how we’d always bicker over the last biscuit at
breakfast. I’d offer it to her, she’d refuse it. She’d say ‘Gotta watch my
weight, George,’ just as serious as all get out. Then we’d fuss back and forth
three or four more times—use those same identical words every single morning of
our married life together. Then, of course, I’d say ‘Well, Ina, if it’ll help
you stay as beautiful as you are today, I’ll eat it. But only because you
insist.’ Then she’d flip a dish towel and pop me on the shoulder with it and
say ‘George Wilkins, you just beat all!’ We’d go through that little ritual
every morning just like clockwork. Pretty silly, I suppose.” Doc sipped his
coffee. “But it just goes to show we all have our quirky little ways of saying
I love you. Doesn’t make a lick of sense to anyone else, but then I guess it
doesn’t have to.” He smiled, gazing into the fire.

Annie
stomped her snow-covered boots on the welcome mat then opened the door to the
quaint country store. The slow squeak of the door announced her arrival.

“Afternoon, we’re back here,” a voice called out
from the rear of the store. A jovial woman stepped behind the long counter. She
smiled warmly. “C’mon in here, honey, and warm yourself by the fire. You look
like one big shiver with an exclamation point thrown in for good measure!”

“It’s freezing out there,” Annie answered,
pushing back the hood of her coat.

“Freezing? Heavens, this is practically a balmy
day for Weber Creek. But stick around a few days if you want to see freezing,”
the woman continued. “Big storm rolling in that’ll curl your toes. Can I get
you some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. Thank you, I’d love
some.” Annie moved toward the oversized hearth, pulling off her brightly
colored mittens to warm her hands by the fire. She nodded at an older gentleman
with a thick head of white hair who was gently rocking his chair.

“How do.”

“Hello.” She returned his smile. “This is just
what I needed. It’s lovely.”

“Well here, young lady,” he said, standing. “Let
me give these old logs a nudge and see if we can’t give you a real fire.” He
grabbed the poker and stoked the giant logs. “Name’s George Wilkins, but most
folks ’round here just call me Doc.”

She took his outstretched hand firmly, relishing
its warmth. “Nice to meet you. I’m Annie.”

Mary Jean handed her the steaming mug of coffee.
“Hi, Annie. I’m Mary Jean Williamson. What brings you to our little neck of the
woods?”

Annie warmed both her hands around the large mug
and sat down. “I’m on my way up to a cabin just a little further up the road.
It belongs to an old friend of mine, Christine Benson—I mean Christine
Benson-Hamilton. I haven’t seen her since college, and I’m still not used to
her married name. Although she’s not married anymore so I’m not sure what name
she goes by?”

Annie yawned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve been on
the road for several hours and I’m afraid it’s just about worn me out.”

Mary Jean sat down on one of the remaining
rockers as Doc continued to stand with his back to the fire. “Don’t often see a
young lady traveling alone around here, what with the roads so tough this time
of year.”

Annie looked into her mug for a moment, then carefully
sipped the brew. Her eyes misted over. Clearing her throat, she filled the
uneasy silence. “Actually, I’m on a long overdue vacation. Christine has begged
me for years to come up here and stay at her cabin.” She paused a moment then
added, “I finally decided to take her up on it.”

She got up to avoid their stares, moving closer
to the crackling fire.

“You’ll love it up there at Eagle’s Nest,” Doc
said. “Christine inherited that cabin. It’s been in the family for years. Of
course, it looks completely different than when her parents vacationed there.
Through the years, she’s renovated it considerably. Made a few additions along
the way. In fact, a few years back it was featured in some fancy magazine. What
was the name of that, MJ?”

“
Southern Living.
Four page color spread.
They did a beautiful job.”

“It has a breathtaking view of the valley,” Doc
continued. “Quite a place.”

“It sure is, and I’d say you’re in for a real
treat if you’re aiming to rest,” Mary Jean offered. “It’s pretty remote up
there, so you won’t have any traffic or neighbors bothering you. The only folks
nearby are the Swensons and they’re out of town. Had a death in the family up
in
Minnesota
.”

Doc interrupted, “Well now, MJ, I reckon Annie
will get along just fine. Knowing Christine, she left a well-stocked pantry and
freezer. But with this storm coming in, we might want to get a few extras for
Annie here in case the power goes or she can’t make it back down the road for a
few days. Power’s liable to be off for several days if it goes. But she’s got a
good back-up generator, far as I know. You’ll be fine, I reckon.”

“Happens a lot this time of year,” Mary Jean
added. “But never you worry. We’ll get you all fixed up.”

The seconds ticked by. Other than an occasional
hiss or pop from the fire and creaking of the floor under the rockers, they sat
in silence. Finally, Annie took a deep breath then blew it out. She didn’t miss
the expression of concern that wafted across Mary Jean’s wrinkled face.
Thankfully, the moment was interrupted by the door creaking open.

“Bob, how was Emma?” Mary Jean asked as an
elderly gentleman pulled off his knit hat and muffler. What was left of his
white hair fanned out in every direction.

“Well now, that depends. If you ask her, she’s
on her death bed. If you ask me, she’s just enjoying all the fuss folks are
making over her. Though she was mighty interested in your chicken and rice
soup, MJ.”

Doc shook his head, “Ah, Miss Emma. Weber
Creek’s resident hypochondriac. Hard to complain, though. She keeps me busy
when everyone else is well.”

Bob turned to Annie. “And who do we have here?”

Mary Jean patted down the wayward hairs on her
husband’s balding head. “Bob, this is Annie. She’s on her way up to Christine’s
place. We need to get her all fixed up in case this storm decides to stick
around when it hits. Oh, and Annie, if we forget anything or if you find you
need more, just give us a call and Bob here will run it up to you. Gets him out
of my hair, if you know what I mean, so don’t hesitate to call. As often as you
can.” Mary Jean snorted at her own joke.

“Thanks, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Bob grabbed a shopping basket then asked, “So,
where is Christine these days?
Italy
?
Australia
? Never
seen anyone hop around the globe like that girl.”

Annie finished her coffee and took the empty mug
to the counter. “She’s in
Israel
for several months. I’m not
exactly sure what she’s doing there. Some sort of photo shoot, I suppose. The
only way I connected with her was over the phone. She called me out of the blue
a while back, and . . . well, turns out it was a good time for me to get away.
We’ve been in touch ever since working out details.”

Mary Jean looked at their newest customer.
“Don’t you worry about a thing. We’re a lot closer than
Israel
and
glad to help. Here’s a card with our number on it. Just a phone call away,
though you’re welcome to stop by anytime. Anytime at all. How long will you be
here?”

Annie looked down at her hands as she put on her
mittens again. “I don’t really know. I haven’t actually decided, to be honest.”
She quickly looked up at Mary Jean then back at her hands.

“Well, you just relax and enjoy that incredible
view up there,” Mary Jean said, patting her arm. “You’ll going to have a
wonderful time.”

Doc Wilkins cleared his throat. “Some R&R, a
little peace and quiet, well sir, that’ll do wonders for just about anyone.”

“Okay, Annie, let’s you and I make a list of
what you’ll need,” Bob added, reaching for a pen and paper.

Annie felt a warm smile spread across face.
“Thank you so much. You all are so kind. I’m really very grateful.”

CHAPTER 5

Seminole,
Florida

After reading Annie’s letter over and over,
David finally pulled himself together enough to pray. He couldn’t begin to find
the words. Instead, he felt his soul cry out to God, asking for direction, for
answers. He was too stunned to cry, though he felt a desperate need to do just
that.

Later, when his mother gently tapped on the
door, he lifted his head, got up off his knees and sat heavily on the bed.

“David? Are you about ready to—” She stopped,
staring at the expression on her son’s face. “David! What’s the matter? What’s
wrong?”

She shut the door behind her and moved quickly
across the room to sit beside him. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his
knees, burying his head in his hands.

“Mom, where are the kids?” he whispered.

“Jessie and Jeremy are downstairs watching
cartoons, and Max is studying in his room. Why?”

“Annie’s gone.”

“What? Of course she’s gone. I told you she had
some things to do. Meetings, I suppose. I told you she’d be late, dear. What’s
the problem?”

David kept shaking his head. “No, Mom. I mean
she’s
gone.
She took a flight out of town. Only she didn’t say where.”

“What? But I don’t understand.”

“I mean just what I said. She’s
gone.
”

Caroline uttered a baffled sigh. “Are you sure?
That doesn’t sound like Annie at all. She wouldn’t just up and leave without
telling you!”

“Here—read this,” he said as he gathered up the
pages and handed them to his mother. She looked at him, her face contorted with
the urgency of her desire to understand.

“But I—”

“Read it, Mom.”

Cartoon sound effects drifted up the stairs and
under the door. David walked over to Annie’s side of their king-size bed. He
noticed the framed family portrait was missing from the bedside table. So was
Annie’s Bible. He wondered what else was missing from their room.