A Searching Heart (24 page)

Locking the door behind her, she took a deep breath and started for the railroad station. She had five minutes before the train was due to arrive. She did hope it was on time.

In the distance she heard the train whistle. She increased her pace, wanting to have a moment to catch her breath and regain her composure before Jamison and Rachel descended the steps. She wished she had thought ahead to bring some small gift of welcome. Perhaps a few of the flowers from her mother's garden or a sweet from the soda shop. It was too late now. She should have thought of it sooner.

She was out of breath by the time she reached the platform. Already the train was coming into view just on the edge of town. Carefully she smoothed her skirts and checked her gloves.
Why am I so nervous?
she thought, laughing at herself.
It's not as if I'm a bride or something!

The train rolled in beside her. She stood back until it came to a stop and the excess steam hissed out from between the wheels.

Soon people were descending the steps. One. Two. Mr. Welks. Another man she had never seen before in a dark pinstripe suit. Two ladies from an outlying farm whom she knew only distantly. Another stranger.

And then came Jamison, assisting a young woman whose arm was tucked firmly in his own.
Rachel.

Virginia moved forward as Jamison and his friend moved toward her. Virginia's eyes swept over the softly pleated gray skirt, on up to the trim jacket, and on to the hesitant smile, the wide blue eyes, the brown curls beneath an attractive hat.

Virginia had the feeling that Rachel had given her the same quick appraisal. The mutual assessment concluded just as they stepped close enough for Jamison to turn from the one to the other. “Rachel—this is Virginia.”

Virginia's searching eyes met Rachel's blue ones. There was a hint of question, quickly followed by a flicker of amusement. Virginia answered with a smile, and then they laughingly fell into each other's outstretched arms while a confused Jamison looked on. They were wearing identical hats.

———

Virginia could not have believed that she would like someone so completely and so quickly. It was easy for her to understand why Jamison had fallen for Rachel. She was warm and personable, and yet there was a sophistication and maturity about her that reminded Virginia of her own roots.

She is so much better suited to be Jamison's wife than I ever could have been,
she admitted to herself.
She understands the city and its ways. I don't think I would ever feel totally at home there.

Virginia finally felt that God's hand in their lives had kept her and Jamison from a terrible mistake. Jamison was going to find happiness with a girl better suited to the life and career he had chosen. She would have wanted to get him back to their old hometown—or would have chafed over having to leave it behind.

Virginia could smile now and accept what had been so difficult for her in the past.

The three spent long hours together, chatting and laughing, Jamison and Virginia sharing with Rachel tales of childhood adventures and anecdotes about their town. Never was there reference made to the days when the two had courted. Virginia was surprised to find out just how much of life and church and friends they had shared apart from the more recent years they had spent as a couple. It warmed her heart and gave her hope that the future could still hold a friendship for them.

When the two girls were alone, Rachel expressed her thoughts in a deeper, more transparent fashion.

“Jamison has told me so much about you. And, yes, he did tell me that you were . . . that you had plans when he went off to college. He also told me how deeply it hurt him when he . . . when he told you that he thought you should end the relationship.

“When I first met Jamison, he was really struggling. That group where he had been attending—I hesitate to call it a church—really had him confused. With their fancy arguments and cross-fire debates, they helped to destroy the faith of more young people than we'll ever know. Jamison held on. He really fought to continue with his beliefs. And a big part of the reason he was able to do so was you. He didn't want to let you down, Virginia. He told me that. His folks, his pastor, they were all important to him, but it was really his long talks with you in those growing-up years that held him steady.

“I want to thank you for that. Personally. Whether you knew it at the time or not, you had a great deal to do with shaping the life and character of the man I have come to love.”

Virginia had tears in her eyes.

“He's going to try for a professional team,” Rachel went on. “Whether he makes it or not, we won't know until he tries. He's a great quarterback, but going on with school—taking time for education rather than going directly to the sports world as his coach had advised—that might cost him. He's older now. I keep telling him that he's more mature, too. Wiser as a player. But it may have cost him. We know that.

“But if it is to be—or not—that's all in God's hands. He will now have a career that he can pursue if football doesn't work out. We want God's will in this. We'd appreciate your continued prayers.”

Virginia nodded. It would not be difficult to pray for Jamison and his lovely Rachel.

———

Mr. Adamson's little house had sat forlorn and empty all through the months of the summer. Virginia had supposed that it would always be so. It seemed that no one should take their beloved neighbor's place. Virginia could still feel his presence as she walked by in the morning when the sun was giving the first dewy kiss to the roses, or again at night when the fragrance of his carefully tended sweet peas wafted up the street to meet her returning steps.

So Virginia stopped in shock at a For Sale sign placed on the front lawn. She wanted to object, but she did not know where and to whom she would make such a protest.

“They are trying to sell Mr. Adamson's house” were her first words upon entering the kitchen where her mother worked on the evening meal.

“Yes, I know,” Belinda answered. “Your father has the responsibility.”

“Papa? But it's Mr. Adamson's house.” It did sound pretty childish, even to her own ears. Her mother's head swiveled to look at her in surprise.

“You knew it would have to sell sooner or later,” Belinda answered.

Virginia did not respond. She supposed it would. That seemed to be the way of things. But just the same, it would be very difficult to see a complete stranger in Mr. Adamson's garden.

CHAPTER 18

I
don't know that Jenny will ever be back,” Mr. Woods told Virginia as they stood on the steps after church.

“How is she?”

“Well, she's much improved from when you last saw her. But then, I guess she's finally found a reason.”

Virginia's interest was piqued. She dared to hope that Jenny might finally be concerned about her spiritual well-being.

“A young therapist,” explained Mr. Woods.

“A therapist?”

He nodded and continued. “He took over her treatment right after she went on back. She took quite a shine to him, and soon he seemed to return the feelings. They see each other regularly now, though on the sly. Doctors aren't to date their patients, you know.”

Virginia didn't, but she was willing to accept his word for it.

“She has another five months of therapy. He has another eight before he's fully qualified. I've a notion that they might make some plans sometime in the future.”

Virginia was not sure whether to be happy or disappointed.

“What is—what is he like?” she asked a bit tentatively, needing more information but not wanting to pry.

Mr. Woods didn't seem to mind. “Like Jenny, I'm afraid.” He shook his head. “Likes to live high and fast. One of the night-life crowd.”

Now Virginia did feel upset.

“Sure hasn't any interest in church at all,” went on Mr. Woods. “Neither of 'em.”

“I'm so sorry,” whispered Virginia.

The man's shoulders sagged. “You reap what you sow, just like Scripture says. I resisted the church and all it stood for during the years that Jenny was growing up. I can't really expect her to turn to it now. I'd give my life to change that if I could.”

Virginia felt so sorry for him. It didn't seem fair that he should have to carry this burden of Jenny's sins.

“And you think she'll stay there?”

“I'm sure she won't come back here. She always did think it a dead town.”

“I know,” admitted Virginia, “but I was hoping. . . .”

“I was, too.”

“I'll write her again.”

Even as Virginia spoke the words, she knew it would do little good. Jenny had not responded to her last three letters. Now, hearing of the young man in Jenny's life, Virginia was even more disappointed at her silence. Under normal circumstances, Jenny would have at least written to tell Virginia her good news. Did this mean that Jenny had completely crossed her off as a friend?

———

Rodney and Grace's wedding was a wonderful event for all of them. The trip to the city was exciting, the stay in Grace's beautiful home an experience they would never forget, and the wedding itself one that touched the hearts of all who attended.

It was a simple wedding, even by small-town standards. Only family members and close friends had been invited. The Bremington newspaper's society page had headlined it,
Millionaire's Orphan Daughter Weds Small-Town Boy In Simple Ceremony.
The columnist reported on the family fortune, the unusual young woman who now inherited all right to it, and the simple lifestyle she had chosen in place of taking her rightful spot in society. “A reverse of the Cinderella story,” said the writer. “Heir claims that much of the family wealth will be set up in a trust fund to help educate worthy students in the fields of medicine and missions.” The writer did not have to spell out the fact that he—or she—was in no way able to understand such unlikely reasoning.

Grace would not even read the article. “I have no idea where they researched their facts,” she said with some disdain. “They certainly didn't get them from me.”

However, Virginia knew that Grace and Rodney did intend to set up the trust fund. They had talked to her mother and father about it. Grace was particularly interested in sharing the plan when she learned that Belinda herself had turned her back on a fortune and put the funds to sheltering the elderly instead.

“Have you ever been sorry?” Grace had asked candidly.

“Never,” said Belinda, not a shade of doubt in her voice or manner.

Though the wedding itself was small, Grace looked like a princess in her long, flowing white satin, the veil of lace trailing down the aisle behind her. Virginia and Danny, along with two of the bridal couple's friends from university, were the only attendants. Grace said she felt no need to fill the aisle with people who meant little to them just because society dictated that one should.

Following the ceremony, a small reception was held in a local hotel ballroom. This one did meet with all of Virginia's dreams of elegance. Huge chandeliers hung from overhead, sending splashes of soft mini-rainbows over the white linens that draped the tables. Bouquets of flowers, larger than any that Virginia had ever seen, graced each available cherry cabinet or marble mantel. The carpet on the floor was so luxurious that it felt like they were walking on the softest of newly mown lawn.

“Ooh,” exclaimed Francine, “this is the way to live. How can she ever leave all this behind?”

Then the young Francine, who more often than not had her pretty head in some dream cloud, followed with, “Ooh, I wish she had a brother.”

“I don't know what possible good that would do you,” responded Danny in typical older brother style, dutifully doing his part to keep his younger sister's feet firmly on the ground.

Virginia caught Francine's disgusted scowl.

The truth was, Francine had developed into a very attractive young lady. Too attractive, Virginia often thought. She feared that the prettiness, plus all of the attention that it drew, would go to the young girl's head. She silently applauded Danny for setting the girl back on her heels again.

“She doesn't even have cousins,” Francine moaned to Virginia when they were out of Danny's earshot.

“No, and she doesn't even have a fortune—at least she won't once the fund is properly set up.”

Francine looked disappointed all over again.

“First Mama—and now Grace,” she murmured in disgust. “Just think, we could have been living in a mansion all these years ourselves.”

“Have you been unhappy?” quizzed Virginia.

Francine gave her a scathing look and did not answer. Instead, she said, “Is Papa going to set the fund up for her?”

“No,” replied Virginia. “He has put them in touch with a lawyer here in Bremington. Someone he is sure they can trust.”

“I still think they should have kept some of it.”

“They will keep some of it. They are investing—”

“But the house—they should have kept that gorgeous house! Can you imagine giving up something like that?”

“A gorgeous house does not always bring happiness,” Virginia replied. “ ‘Little is much, if love abides.' ”

“Who said that?” demanded Francine.

“I don't know,” shrugged Virginia. “Some wise soul.”

“Daft, to my thinking,” sniffed Francine.

Virginia smiled. She was sure that the young Francine would eventually get her priorities straight. She did hope, for the sake of all of them, that it didn't take too long.

———

“I think we've found a buyer for Mr. Adamson's house,” Virginia's father announced at the supper table.

Virginia looked up, her heart constricting with sadness. She had been hoping that the house would not sell. She had even dared to hope that one day, with her saving of monthly wages, she might be able to offer a bid. Now her hopes were being dashed.