Where the Wild Rose Blooms (22 page)

'There will be some of you who think I only want more money for the church, but nothing could be further from the truth. Our church building does have some minor needs, but nothing compares to the need for all of you to know Christ."

Long after the crowd had pressed close to share their regrets and then moved on their way, the Fontaines stood by the grave. Sammy was inconsolable for many minutes

"I need to see Eddie," she kept repeating. "She's going to be so upset, and she's so far away. I have to see Eddie." She sobbed uncontrollably against Danny's side. Not even her father, lifting her in his arms, could abate the storm.

"She has Robert." Addy came close to her husbands shoulder in an attempt to console her youngest daughter. "He'll take care of her."

"I know, Mother," Sammy replied, the tears still falling, "but she's so far away, and I know she'll be just crushed when she hears."

And indeed Sammy was correct. Eddie was very upset to hear of her uncles passing. Robert delivered the telegram himself and held her while she sobbed. However, Eddie's greatest tears were for her father.

"I don't know what he'll do now, Robert," she cried. "He's lived with Mother for so long, and nothing has ever touched him. Now, Uncle Mitch, the man who could have helped, is gone."

"We can't stop trusting, Eddie. God will find a way. He always does."

Eddie continued to cry in her husband's arms, but she prayed as well. She prayed with all of her heart that her father would be touched. If she could only have seen through the walls of her parents' bedroom the next night, she'd have prayed for her mother as well.

Mitch had been buried for little more than 48 hours when Morgan responded to the things his brother had said. His response was not volcanic, but it was unsettling to Addy. They were getting ready for bed, and Addy could feel his tension from across the room.

"That's a fine way to end things with my brother." The statement came from out of nowhere. Addy turned, her blouse clutched in her hands.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Morgan replied as he nearly tore his necktie off, "its just fine to learn when Mitch is on his deathbed that he thinks I deserve to go to hell."

Addy forced herself to hang the blouse in the closet. "That isn't what he said, Morgan."

"Oh, really." Morgan's sarcasm was biting. "Just exactly what did he mean? He seemed to think that you would have all the answers, so why don't you tell me just
exactly what my brother meant."

"I don't think you're in any mood to hear it."

"Don't
patronize me!" The words were like a lash,
but
Addy remained outwardly calm as she turned to him.

"My grief is as great as yours, Morgan. Please don't take this out on me. *

Addy turned away and unbuttoned her skirt. Morgan watched her. He wanted answers, but he was so angry that he could have put his fist through a wall. He was still just standing and staring, the tie dangling from his fingers, when Addy began to brush out her hair. Only the normalcy of her routine kept her from bursting into tears. She was nearly done with her hair when Morgan forced himself to speak calmly.

"What did Mitch mean when he said my pride would send me to hell?"

Addy turned away from the mirror.

"I believe he was speaking to the fact that you think all good, hardworking people go to heaven."

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's not true, Morgan; that's what's wrong with it."

"How can you say that?"

"I don't say it." Addy kept her voice neutral. "The Bible says it."

"So you're telling me," Morgan returned, his voice was filling with rage all over again, "that all I've done, all I've worked for my whole life, isn't worth a thing?" "Morgan, are you sure you want to talk about this?"

Yes?

Addy started and wished she hadn't asked. However, her own irritation was raised just enough to speak boldly. She knew this was not the right rime—his grief was too fresh—but if Morgan wanted it, she would give it to him.

"Nothing we do outside of Christ is worth a thing. Outside of Christ its all useless." Addy's hand went into the air when Morgan opened his mouth. "And don't you dare ask me, Morgan, why I think you are outside of Christ. You know very well that something is missing in your life."

Morgan's
eyes
were fierce at this point, but Addy kept on. It was a temptation to rail at God for putting her in this position, but she thought she might have been too passive in the past. With a deep breath she continued.

"You go into church with your family well dressed and well behaved and line them up in a row and hope that God notices. You actually tell the girls that God is impressed if we're on time, yet you don't live like Christ matters. Your Bible looks like the day I gave it to you. The Bible says, in 2 Corinthians 5, 'If any man be in Christ he is a new creature; old things have passed away; behold all things are become new.' If that hasn't happened to you, Morgan, then Mitch is indeed right. You're going to hell."

Morgan's gaze could have drilled holes into Addy. He wanted to storm from the room, but his feet wouldn't move. How could she say this to him? He'd worked hard and been a fine provider. His eye didn't stray. What man wasn't tempted by the sight of a beautiful woman? But he had been faithful to Addy since the day he met her.

"Morgan," Addy's voice came softly to his ears. "It has to be God's way. All the girls came to Christ as little children because it's the easier way. We get older and our pride gets huge and then we
try and tell
God how we're going to come to Him. Only it won't work. He makes the call, and if we don't abide by it we're lost."

"Do you think I m a failure?"

Addy
felt defeat wash over her. It was as if he didn't have a clue. She went to him and held his face in her hands.

"Morgan, you've been a wonderful husband and father, and you will go on being so, but something is missing. I think you can feel it, but you don't want to acknowledge it. All I'm asking is that you keep your mind open. You're so certain you have all the answers that you don't even listen. Pastor Munroe is not to be merely tolerated; he's there to teach us. The next time he speaks about heaven and how to get there, listen with your whole heart."

The room was shadowy, but he could see tears standing in Addy's eyes. He put his arms around her and felt her tremble, or was that his own body? Could he really be wrong after all these years? And if he was, did good people really go to hell?
Morgan's eyes shut in agony. He'd been so sure, and now his soul was in misery.

Better misery now, Morgan, than an eternity in hell.
Where the thought came from Morgan couldn't say, but he was going to listen, this much was sure. He now tightened his arms around his wife, desperately needing to feel her close. He was scared. Like a child alone in a dark forest, he was terrified. It was a new sensation for him, and right now Addy seemed to be all that was real. He held onto her with a new desperation, not talking, just needing to have her close.

"You heard baby birds?" one little girl asked another. "Yes. I know it's late, but they must have just hatched." "I can't believe you were even in
Henderson's field." "Well, I was late getting home, so I had to cut across."

"Did your mother find out?"

"No. "

The girls moved on, but their words echoed in Jackie's ears. Baby birds in
Henderson's field. She knew where that was. And in July! Jackie glanced at the big clock on the wall. It was 1:15. She was done in the store today at 2:30. She had some chores to do at home, but she was certain she could work in a trip to see the birds' nest and still arrive home in plenty of time to do them. Hendersons property was off the beaten path, but it would be worth the walk.

Jackie suddenly looked down at her dress and scowled. What in the world had possessed her to wear something so dressy to work? The lavender fabric even had a row of snow-white lace a foot up from the hem! She continued to scowl at her own fool hardiness, but her frown soon faded to a look of wistfulness. She knew very well why she'd dressed up. She hadn't seen Clayton since right after Uncle Mitch's funeral and hoped beyond all hope that he would make an appearance today. So far it hadn't happened.

"Jack," her father's voice suddenly snatched her out of her dreams.

"Yes?"

"Take this in the back and put it on the shelf with the others." Morgan handed her a small satchel. "We have enough out front already. When you're through with that, sweep the front walk."

"All right."

"When are you done today?" His question stopped her before she could move six feet.

Jackie turned back, her heart beating with sudden fear.

"Two-thirty."

"All right," Morgan said as he turned away. Jackie's breath returned in a rush. She had thought he was going to say she needed to stay late. Her step was light as she moved to the back room and then to the front walk, the straw broom in her hand.

Two hours later, puffing from the warmth of her dress and the exertion, Jackie stopped below the tree in Henderson's field. There was only one, and she had to climb a fence to get to it, but she had arrived. She stood very still to calm her breathing, and then she heard them: Baby birds chirping and crying out to be fed. She stepped immediately underneath the overhanging branches and strained to see the nest. It was too high.

She knew they would be cute, and she had such a soft spot for baby animals. However, if she tore this dress, her mother would not be pleased.

"But if I don't see the nest," Jackie now spoke to the tree. "I've come all this way for nothing."

"Talking to yourself, Jackie?"

Jackie spun in surprise toward the voice and smiled as she spotted Clayton. He sat atop his horse, Miner, on the other side of the fence.

"Now what makes you think I'm alone," Jackie asked with a flirting glance. She started toward him. "There might be a handsome young man courting me from the tree."

He spoke when she'd stopped at the fence and looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with good humor.

"Now," Clayton drawled charmingly, "I wouldn't be calling you a liar, Miss Fontaine, but I think the only company you have out here is Henderson's bull."

"Is that right?" She sounded quite skeptical. "I think you might be doing the lying, Mr. Taggart.
"I haven't seen a bull."

Clayton's humor fell away. "He does have a bull, Jackie. I don't know if he's out right now, but Henderson does pen a bull in this field."