The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek (16 page)

In the firm voice of a man determined to get to the bottom of the disturbance and refusing to be sidetracked by absurd statements, the officer asked, “Are you alone out here in the dark…umm, gardening?” He snickered.

Of course the cop couldn’t see Hannah, so very small, and leaning against her brother. Probably looked more like a shadow than a person.

“No, sir,” Hannah answered. “He’s not alone.”

“You have a woman out here, sir?” Condemnation hardened the patrolman’s voice. “Ma’am, are you being held against your will?”

Against his side, he felt Hannah’s quivering change. No longer terrified, she doubled over with laughter.

“No, sir,” she said, but her voice shook with amusement. If he hadn’t known better, Adam would have heard that as a frightened, shaky plea for rescue.

Must have sounded as if she were in peril to Oglethorpe as well, because the patrolman said, “Hold on, ma’am. I’m coming in there. You’ll be fine.”

Immediately, Adam heard the sound of feet scrambling against the wooden fence, then a muffled curse. He couldn’t help but admire the man’s persistence and his protective instinct. At the same time, he wondered how Oglethorpe thought he could climb over a five-foot wooden fence holding a flashlight.

“The police? Really?” Hannah asked. “Don’t they have bigger crimes to investigate?”

“Not in Butternut Creek.” Adam stood and pulled Hannah up with him. By that time not only were heads popping out of back windows up and down the fence line but both George and Ouida had come outside and stood next to the fence as backup.

“Folks, move back.” The patrolman waved toward the Kowalskis before he addressed Adam. “Sir, step away from her and put your hands up.” He continued to struggle to get a foothold in the wooden fence.

“Officer, it’s fine,” Hannah said. “He’s not hurting me. He’s my brother.”

Oglethorpe turned the light directly on Adam. “You’re attacking your sister?” he asked, his voice heavy with revulsion.

“No, sir,” Adam said. “We’re gardening. Like I said.”

A few seconds of silence followed until the deacon stated, “It’s late to be gardening.”

“Dark, too,” the patrolman added suspiciously, and he began anew his effort to climb the fence.

For a heartbeat Adam thought about opening one side of the huge double gate for Oglethorpe, but he remembered the warning about stepping away from Hannah and putting his hands up. Adam had no idea if members of the Butternut Creek Police Department packed heat but he didn’t want to find out. He stood very still.

“Sir, these are good people,” Ouida shouted across the yard.

With that, several more lights went on down the street, south of the deacon’s house.

“I’m the minister at the Christian Church,” Adam stated.

“He is,” Ouida shouted. “He lives in the parsonage.”

“I know this man. He’s an upstanding citizen,” Philemon said. His words were followed by words of agreement from houses to the south.

“A good neighbor,” George added.

“Officer,” Hannah said and took a step toward the fence and into the bright beam of the megalight. “I find working in the garden soothing.” She shrugged. “I know it sounds odd, but I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I came down here to dig for a few minutes. Reverend Jordan is my brother. He found me and tried to get me to go inside.” She took another step. “I’m fine, I really am.”

After a few more seconds of silence, she added, “Thank you for your concern about my well-being. I appreciate it.”

Sounds of agreement came from all over the neighborhood.

“You have a lot of character witnesses,” Oglethorpe said. “I’m new to town and don’t know the preachers here, but I still find this situation strange and perplexing.”

“Thank you, sir. Sorry for the disturbance,” Adam said. “We feel safe with you on the job.”

Oglethorpe turned off his Maglite. “Glad to be of service,” he said before turning away.

“If you don’t have a church home,” Adam said, “we’d love to see you here on Sunday.”

“Thank you.” With that, the patrolman got into his car, turned off the flashing light, and drove away. Windows slammed shut down the fence line.

“Good night, folks.” Adam waved and dragged Hannah toward the house. “Thanks, George and Ouida,” he said as his neighbors strolled back toward their house.

“I can’t believe you did that. You invited him to church.” Stubborn as ever, Hannah stopped and pulled against his hand. “The man thought you were a sex fiend and pervert. He nearly arrested you, and you invited him to church.”

“It was the right thing to do and don’t change the topic. This would never have happened if you hadn’t gone outside to garden in the middle of the night.” He dropped her hand and glared at her, but that didn’t intimidate her. Nothing he did ever had.

“You’ve already said that but if you’d stayed inside, nothing would have happened.” She leaned forward and met his glare with her glower. “I can’t believe people in small towns act like this.”

“You grew up in Maysville, Kentucky, Sis. You know what small towns are like.”

“I…I…” She searched for a retort.

“Let’s not bicker, children.”

They looked up to see Hector at the door.

“I was very young at the time.” Hannah stalked inside and up the stairs.

“You almost got arrested, Pops.” Hector studied him with a mix of amazement and what Adam feared was admiration.

“What could have been worse than to have the minister of the Christian Church nearly handcuffed and taken to jail?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, sure, but almost getting arrested’s not the only thing you need to worry about.” Hector paused to drag out the suspense. “Pretty soon, if not already, Miss Birdie’s going to find out a cop showed up at the parsonage.” He grinned as Adam came inside. “You can expect an early visit from her.”

Adam breathed a prayer of thanksgiving that he had a few hours left before the wrath of the pillar fell upon him.

Could be she’d get a laugh out of the situation, but he didn’t think so. The police car investigating a disturbance at the parsonage didn’t seem like anything she’d find funny. He headed toward the stairs.

“Going to talk to Hannah about what happened? The cop and everything?” Hector asked before he could move farther. “About causing such a ruckus? Waking the neighbors?”

Adam didn’t know.

“Pops, you aren’t afraid of her, are you?”

“You don’t have an older sister you haven’t mentioned, do you?” Adam asked.

“No. Why?”

“If you’ve never had an older sister, you don’t have the right to judge the fear one engenders.”

“She’s a little bitty thing. She couldn’t hurt you.”

“When we were kids, she was two years older and bigger than me. When we walked to school, she put her hand on the back of my neck and squeezed if I didn’t go in the direction she wanted. She took away all my toy guns and GI figures because she was a pacifist even back then, except with her brother. She…” He stopped and smiled at the memories. “She was a terror, even as a little girl, and my parents told me I couldn’t hit her because she was a girl.”

“That’s got to be twenty years ago.”

“Old fears never go away. Besides, she’s my sister and she’s struggling. I don’t want to upset her more.”

“Maybe you could get a big box of dirt for her to dig in at night.”

“Or a flower box.” Adam snapped his fingers. “Not a bad idea at all.”

The next morning, Hannah pulled on her running shoes and Velcroed them shut. Unzipping the pocket in her shoe, she stuffed her ID and a couple of dollars inside. She considered sticking her phone in the slit of a pocket on her shorts, but who needed a phone in Butternut Creek? In case of emergency, just shout. Someone would come to help.

With that, she grabbed her sunglasses, slipped them on, and headed downstairs. How far should she go this morning? Probably should start slow. She hadn’t run for three months and had lost a lot of strength.

She hadn’t jogged in London because her mother got so anxious about Hannah’s health, certain her daughter would have a heart attack or a stroke or relapse, maybe get lost or be hit by a car, and she couldn’t allow Mom to worry any more about her. Besides, for months she’d felt noodleishly weak from the malaria. But here in Butternut Creek, she’d regained some strength. The weather and the town were beautiful. She hoped this would help her recover from her stress and anxiety. If so, maybe she wouldn’t have to go outside at night to work the soil, wake the neighbors, and cause a cop to drop by. Living in a small town certainly cut down on privacy.

She made it five blocks before she was sucking wind and her legs wobbled. A start. She could go a block farther every morning. Soon she’d be running to Marble Falls and back.

On Friday night, Gussie glanced around the family room. Everyone had settled in their normal places. She and Adam and her parents had pushed together on the sofa that really needed to be just a few inches longer. Not that she minded being curled up next to Adam.

Hannah sat in what they now considered her chair, a medical magazine on the floor next to her. Janey had shoved Hannah’s feet from the ottoman and sat there. All watched
Singing in the Rain
, one of her old favorites. A nice family evening.

But wouldn’t it be nice if she and Adam could be alone for a minute? Not only to smooch, although she’d like that, but to talk. Maybe even to set a wedding date. The way their lives were now, they emailed and chatted on the phone or sat around with her parents, alone only during the time Adam walked her back to Sam’s old house or when he came into Austin.

“What are you thinking?” With his arm around her, Adam squeezed her shoulder.

“This is nice.” Gussie leaned back a little so she could see him better, then lay her head on his shoulder.

They’d arrived at her favorite part of the movie, “Make Them Laugh,” when Hector came down the back stairs. He clattered across the kitchen and into the family room. “I’m going out now. Meeting Bobby and some of the guys at the Burger Barn.” He hugged his sister and headed toward the door.

“Where’s your coach?” Hannah asked.

Because Mom had paused the movie, Hannah’s words sounded loud in the silence. Everyone turned toward her.

“I mean,” Hannah explained, “isn’t he usually part of your gang?”

“Not always.” He shrugged. “Not usually. Besides, Coach has a date tonight.” He took off.

When Hector said the words. Hannah blinked twice and said, “Oh? How nice.” Her voice sounded surprised and, maybe, a little disappointed.

Gussie thought only she had noticed the reaction because the others had turned to wave at Hector, focused on Hector’s departure and not Hannah’s expression or tone. She continued to study her future sister-in-law. Hannah had slid down in the chair and tucked her chin into her chest to present the top of her head to the group.

Interesting. Should she tell Adam what she’d observed? No, Hannah deserved privacy. Goodness how Gussie had hated it when the Widows had attempted to force her and Adam together.

Besides, the Widows had already made that disastrous and horribly embarrassing effort to match Hannah and Gabe. Could be Gussie’s observation was wrong, that Hannah didn’t have feelings for the coach, only asked for information from politeness, to have a friendly conversation with Hector.

But no. Gussie had recognized that hastily hidden emotion. She knew far too well the difficulty of living a normal life when the Widows were around to embarrass. No one could protect another person from the Widows, but she could be Hannah’s friend and attempt to shield her from the worst of the pillar’s machinations.

A
fter Hector left, Adam glanced at his watch. Nearly eight. The kid should be home in four or five hours. He still worried after the time a year ago when Hector had been so drunk that he’d called Adam to pick him up. He was glad he called but hated teenage drinking. They were going to drink. Teenagers thought they were indestructible. Others might die but not them, and no adult could change their minds.

Adam had to trust Hector. Not to have faith in him would weaken their relationship. Trust was the only answer. He settled back on the sofa and put his arm around Gussie before glancing at his sister. She didn’t seem to care about the movie. She sat in the huge chair that made her look even thinner and more miserable, the blanket pulled nearly to her nose.

What could he do to help her? Then Yvonne took his hand and squeezed it lightly. “It’ll work out,” she whispered.

Adam didn’t feel nearly as confident. He’d prayed about his sister but knew that praying for
other
people to change seldom worked. Instead, he’d prayed for her to heal and for him to be patient. Neither prayer seemed to be working, but God seldom worked on Adam’s schedule.

“Preacher?” Charley Parsons’s voice came from the front porch at the same time he knocked.

“I completely forgot.” Adam got to his feet reluctantly. “I was supposed to meet Charley in the sanctuary at eight to…” He stopped talking as he remembered he wasn’t supposed to say anything about the air-conditioning until the anonymous donor gave the okay. “To meet Charley.”

“Is he all right?” Yvonne asked. “Are you going to pray with him?”

“No. Charley’s a good Presbyterian.”

“Why isn’t he meeting with his minister instead of you?” Hannah asked.

“Don’t they pray the same way we do?” Janey asked.

“It’s not a spiritual thing.” He glanced at Gussie, blinked and grimaced in the hope she could read his silent signal to stop the questions.

“That’s nice.” Gussie stood. “Charley’s a good man.” She followed him toward the door. “How long will this take?” she asked.

“An hour, maybe?”

“Fine. Hurry back so you can walk me home.” She opened the door and shoved him outside, then waved at Charley. “Nice to see you.”

“Sorry I interrupted,” Charley said.

The plumber was, to speak kindly, a large man: six-three and over three hundred pounds. Shortly after Adam’s arrival in town, Charley had gotten stuck in a parsonage bathroom. At least there shouldn’t be any tight spaces in putting in air-c
onditioning
. Wasn’t the ductwork already there?

“Sorry I wasn’t ready.” Adam pulled his keys out.

“Thanks for meeting me so late. This has been a real busy week, but I want to work on the air conditioner as soon as I can.”

When they reached the front entrance, Adam unlocked the door. Even in Butternut Creek, he locked things up at night, a habit that displayed he was an outlander. “Hate to take you away from Rita Mae and the kids.”

“She took them to a movie. I’ll be home before they are. Only need to take measurements and look at the wiring and a few other things so I can give you a bid.”

It took nearly an hour for Charley to inspect the system and make notes. Part of the unit was under the floor in the narthex, which worried Adam. When Charley got in and out of that pit without too much trouble, Adam relaxed. The plumber checked the fuse box and the outdoor unit, measuring everything and taking precise notes. Each place looked large enough that Charley wouldn’t get stuck. Until they came to the fellowship hall.

“You know, Preacher.” Charley pointed toward the ceiling. “It wouldn’t cost much more to check out the ductwork and mechanics all over the church. They used to install ductwork with more bends than we do today. A redo could lower your utility bill.” Charley kept his gaze up, inspecting the area. “We’ll have to get up there and check. Might should replace those stained ceiling tiles, too.”

Adam froze. The idea of Charley crawling through the ceiling made him shudder. The entire structure could fall down if Charley got stuck up there.

“Don’t worry. I’m not climbing up there.” He grinned. “Have a young, skinny apprentice to do that kind of thing.”

From the porch late Friday afternoon, Adam watched Hector stuff his duffel bag in the backseat of Gabe’s truck in preparation for their overnight visit to San Pablo.

Nice truck. Four doors with lots of chrome and a perfectly tailored cover snapped over the bed. Although he must have earned a lot of money in the pros, Gabe never showed off except with this vehicle. Must have cost more than Adam could even conceive. Yeah, nice truck, but not as nice as Adam’s new car. Adam didn’t even attempt to squash that non-ministerial quiver of pride.

He stepped into the yard to study the sky. The dark clouds worried him. The forecast for Saturday wasn’t good, but
bad weather
pretty much described Texas during the spring. Months of drought alternated with weeks of torrential rain and storm warnings, and high winds and the possibility of tornadoes usually accompanied those storms.

As Hector got into the front seat, Adam waved and headed inside.

Hannah stood beside the window in the front hall and watched the truck back out. She started when she saw him and looked a little embarrassed. Why?

“Want to go out and wave?” he asked.

“No, that’s okay. Having his elderly aunt hover over him would embarrass Hector.” She looked out the window. “What do you think about the sky?” she asked.

“I have to admit I’m worried,” he said.

“Me, too.” She headed into the family room.

Why had Hannah been standing at the front window? She liked Hector but had never felt the need to fawn all over him. Other than that, she could only be studying the sky or watching Gabe. The window in the front was under the roof of the porch; very little sky was visible from there. He didn’t ask because by the time he’d followed her, she’d curled up in her chair. She looked the same as she had since her arrival except now she read books about gardening.

No, that was wrong. She did look better. During her nearly two months here, she’d put on about ten pounds but still needed to gain more. Although still spiky and uneven, her hair had regained its shine, and the dark circles around her eyes no longer looked as if someone had broken her nose. Even her color had improved. She looked pasty but no longer deathly gray, and she’d started running again.

“Did you know lantana and Mexican bush sage attract butterflies?” She glanced up from her book. “We need to plant some and create a container of water for them. Butterflies don’t drink from birdbaths or ponds.”

“Hate to have thirsty butterflies.” Then he heard the sound of a car in the drive. “Must be Gussie,” he said and hurried to the front door and outside.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he told Gussie, taking her hand as they walked inside. Once in the front hall, he kissed her.

“I can’t take all the lovey-doveyness,” Hannah shouted. “There are other people who live in this house.”

“She’s feeling a little grumpy today,” Adam said. “Maybe you could draw her out. If you can talk about communicable diseases, Hannah’s really an interesting person.”

“I’m sure she is.” Gussie kissed his cheek before she headed into the family room and settled on the ottoman Adam still associated with Gabe. “Okay, no more mushy stuff. So, tell me, what do you want to talk about?”

“Didn’t particularly want to talk. Just didn’t want to be bombarded with all that
love
.” Hannah imbued the last word with such scorn, Gussie laughed.

“If you talk to me, I can’t possibly kiss your brother. What are you reading?”

As the sound of rain began to patter steadily on the roof, they chatted about planting vegetables. Although Gussie knew little about diseases, she’d learned about gardens from her parents. After about fifteen minutes, she stood. “I’ve got to drop off my bags and pick up my parents. Mom fixed something special for dinner.”

“I don’t like you driving in this weather,” Adam said.

“It’s a short drive. We’ll be okay.” She hugged him before dashing through the rain to her car.

“Okay, hurry back.”

He didn’t like anyone out in this weather, but no one listened to him.

After Gabe drove for ten minutes, rain began to fall. Every few minutes, the amount increased, which challenged the windshield wipers to keep up. With defrost on the highest setting, the cab was hot, but they couldn’t open the windows without sheets of rain blowing inside. By the time it was bad enough that he considered turning back to Butternut Creek, they were over halfway to San Pablo. He kept going.

Twenty miles outside San Pablo, the driving rain smashed against the windshield with such a force Gabe struggled to control the truck, amazed the wind could shove the heavy vehicle around so easily. If he’d seen a motel, he would have pulled over and spent the night, but he didn’t see any along this section of highway.

“
Llueve a cántaros
,” Hector said. “That means ‘it’s raining from large pitchers’ in Spanish, like our expression it’s raining cats and dogs.”

“Certainly coming down hard.” Gabe peered through the windshield that the wipers struggled to clear. “I’m impressed you can talk about the weather in two languages.”

For the rest of the drive, Gabe concentrated hard, focusing on peering through the downpour until he saw the city limits sign and entered San Pablo.

Thank goodness.

Hector pointed a few blocks ahead. “There’s the motel.”

Gabe pulled the truck under the covered entrance in front of the office. “I’ll check us in,” he shouted as he got out, the wind whipping his words away.

“Two rooms on the ground floor,” he said to the clerk. Due to recruiting rules, he couldn’t pay for Hector’s room and neither could the junior college so they’d picked a fairly cheap place. As the wind whipped around outside, he hoped the building could withstand the storm. That was why he’d asked for rooms on the ground floor. Less likely to be swept away, although more chance of being crushed.

He should probably stop thinking about that last part.

Once outside, he studied the sky. It had turned the greenish color he associated with tornadoes. Not much he could do now. Thoroughly drenched, he got in the truck, pulled it around the building, and parked. “You get the bags. I’ll go ahead of you and open the door.”

They dashed inside one of the rooms, arriving safe and fairly dry.

“Okay, you take this one. I’ll go next door.” Gabe handed Hector the key card. “You stay here and I’ll get us Cokes and ice.”

Hector said, “Do you think the wind’s going to blow me away?” and went out for ice and drinks, returning soggy and with shoes that squished from the deep puddles and the blowing downpour.

By that time, Gabe had come back from dropping his bags in his room and turned on the television to watch the weather warnings. Nothing they could do now but wait and listen to the news. The maps showed storm warnings all across Central Texas. No one knew where a tornado might drop from the sky. They could be in as much danger in Butternut Creek as they were here.

Because Yvonne had packed their dinner, they spread out the dishes and kept the television on.

Adam and Gussie sat on the sofa and watched the ten o’clock news, which focused on the weather.

“You know your sister’s determined to go wherever there’s an emergency, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Don’t think I can stop her.” He shook his head. “We are so different.”

“No, you’re not. You’re determined to go, too.”

“Oh, yes, we are different. She’s really driven. Mom and Dad had high expectations for both of us,” Adam said. “Especially for Hannah because she was the oldest and smarter than me. She could never please Dad, not even graduating early from high school as valedictorian.”

Gussie blinked. “What could be better than that?”

“She had to become a doctor, the best doctor in the world.” He put his arm around Gussie. “I think they meant well. I know they did. They wanted to challenge us to do our best. I couldn’t live up to that. I tuned them out when I was twelve, lived my life the way I wanted to.”

Gussie squeezed his hand. “Must have been tough.”

“Not for me. But for Hannah?” He shrugged.

Before he could say more, the warning sirens blasted. Yvonne and Henry rushed in from the porch where they’d been watching the sky. He’d asked all three Miltons to spend the night because the parsonage had an old storm cellar and Sam’s old house was built on a slab. Houses in Texas seldom—actually, almost never—had basements, but his did. Years earlier, it had been closed from the outside and turned into a laundry and storage area, but it was still the safest place on the block.

He ran upstairs, shouted up to Hannah, then ran into Janey’s room, wrapped her in her blanket, and hurried back down with his sister right behind them. The Miltons had already turned on the dim basement light and started downstairs. When a knock sounded, he gave Janey to Hannah and headed to the front door.

The Kowalskis stood on the porch, completely drenched. George carried Carol and Ouida had Gretchen while torrents of water streamed off their slickers. “Come on in.” Adam waved toward the kitchen. “You know the way. I have a couple of folding chairs next to the dryer.”

“Thanks, Adam, for sharing your shelter,” Ouida said as she and George ran into the kitchen and put the girls down. Once they’d shrugged off their wet rain gear, they draped it all across the kitchen counter to dry.

“Oh, sure, I’d allow my neighbors to blow away.” Adam waved them toward the steps. “Where would I get my morning scones if that happened?” They headed down, the very pregnant Ouida holding on to the rail.

Before Adam could follow, another knock came. Standing on the porch were the deacon and his wife and the Ferguson family from across the street. Seven more people.

Adam had never considered how many people could fit in the small space, but fifteen seemed half a dozen too many. Fortunately, the children and Hannah took up little space, and he wasn’t about to kick anyone out.