Child of Promise (24 page)

To her credit, however, Mary Sue had gradually changed over the years. She wasn’t the same woman she had once been. How, though, to make that point?

“I remind you, Reverend Starr, that you’re under oath,” the attorney said.

“Yes,” Noah admitted, “I had some initial doubts. But they were dispelled when I remembered Mrs. Peterson’s charitable work for the church, her faithful Sunday attendance, and the evident love she had for her husband.”

“If that love wasn’t all for show,” Mr. Henderson shot back, pacing again. He stopped and turned to Noah.

“I can’t help but wonder why you advised her to return home with her husband that night, if you didn’t think it was safe. And you
did
think it was safe, didn’t you, Reverend Starr?”

“Yes, I did. I was wrong, though. Very wrong.”

“Well, perhaps in retrospect, but at the time—”

“No, at the time, too, Mr. Henderson,” Noah said, hunching forward and impaling the attorney with a steely gaze. “I chose to make a decision my wife warned me against and my instincts told me was wrong. I thought I knew more than my wife and Mrs. Peterson that night because I felt empowered by God. I felt it was my duty to save that marriage at all costs. But I was so puffed up with pride that it blinded me to the truth.”

He gave a disparaging laugh. “Even if I’d seen the truth, I think I would’ve forced the reconciliation anyway. It was my duty, after all, to keep the marriage together. And I was so very, very good at what I did.”

“Now, Reverend Starr,” Henderson began, his gaze narrowing, “be that as it may, that doesn’t mean Mrs. Peterson didn’t manipulate you. It doesn’t mean—”

“No, you don’t understand, Mr. Henderson.” Noah’s voice rose, all but commanding the man to silence. “I manipulated her
and
her husband, for that matter, to do what I thought was best. But I didn’t do it out of Christian love or compassion. I did it because I had become complacent in my ministry. I did it out of some misguided sense of power, because I felt it was the right thing to do. And, in all fairness, if you insist on putting Mary Sue on trial for the death of Harlow Peterson, then you should put me on trial for his death, too. I had the power to prevent what happened that night, just as Harlow did. But Harlow was a sick, tormented man, and in part can be excused. But I, Mr. Henderson, deserve no excuse.”

Noah’s eyes filled with tears. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to go on, to say all that was in his heart, so all of Grand View would finally hear and know.

“For am I not my brother’s keeper? And if I see one of my brothers or sisters in need and turn my back on their pleas for help, am I not a worse sinner than they? Because, Mr. Henderson, that’s exactly what I did. And that’s exactly why I don’t deserve to call myself anyone’s pastor anymore.”

As the lawyer standing before him stared in utter amazement, the courtroom burst into bedlam once more. The judge roared out for order; he pounded his gavel until the chamber reverberated with the earsplitting staccato beat, and still the people shouted and cried out to each other.

The chaos in the room, however, blurred and faded into background noise as shame and remorse rose once more to engulf Noah. He lowered his face into his hands and wept.

Two days later, Noah rose early to prepare for Sunday services. He had sketched out his sermon yesterday afternoon but always liked, after saying his morning prayers and meditating on his scriptural readings for the day, to go over his ideas once more in his head.

He had chosen a passage from the twenty-first chapter of John, where Jesus instructed Simon Peter to feed His lambs, feed His sheep. It was a divine commission, Noah well knew, given not only to those first disciples but one that echoed down the centuries to men like himself, too. Of late, how281 ever, he had felt like he had failed miserably in caring for the flock the Lord had put in his care.

But Simon Peter had failed—and failed miserably—for a time, too, and still the Lord loved him and called him repeatedly to feed His sheep. Could his own transgressions, his own failings be any worse? And was his love any more weak and uncertain than Peter’s had been in those years of Jesus’ earthly ministry?

In the end, it didn’t matter. His call to the priesthood had never been an issue of worthiness, just as it had never been with the apostles. What mattered was answering the call and striving each and every day to follow. Promises had been made and exchanged—he to serve the Lord all the days of his life, and God never to forsake him. No matter the obstacles, no matter the mistakes, no matter the doubts and fears, Noah knew he must remain the priest he had vowed to be.

The admission filled him with a warm rush of peace and certainty. And though no sign had yet been forthcoming as to whether he should accept the seminary position, Noah realized too that was no longer of such pressing importance. What mattered most wasn’t his pride, wasn’t the shame that the entire town knew his failings, wasn’t the pain he’d feel every time he met Mary Sue Peterson. What mattered most was loving God and feeding His sheep. Until the Lord told him otherwise, Noah would remain in Grand View.

He glanced out the window across from his desk. In the distance, the sun rose in all its gentle glory. Its rays spilled over the land, drenching it in warm, red-gold light.

Gladness swelled in Noah’s breast. What a glorious day, a day ripe with promise. The Lord’s day.

A few more notes in the margins of his sermon, and he was finished. Noah rose, folded his homily, and tucked it into his Bible. He could smell the mouthwatering scent of frying meat, so he headed for the kitchen.

Beth was already up and dressed, busily scrambling eggs in one pan while sausage fried in another. Emily, also garbed in her Sunday finest, sat in her wheelchair at the table, banging her bowl with a spoon. Her grip on the utensil was awkward, as were her movements with it, but she managed to hold onto the spoon and make quite a bit of noise in the process.

Surprisingly, even over the din, his wife noted his arrival. She looked up. “All set for today’s services, are you?”

Noah smiled. “As ready as I ever am.”

“Well, then we’re all in for another inspiring and riveting service.” She grinned and motioned toward the table. “Sit. I just poured you a cup of coffee, and the toast needs buttering. The rest of this will be ready in another minute or two.”

He pulled out a chair beside Emily and took a seat. Emily chortled in greeting but never paused in her energetic banging. Noah tolerated the noise while he buttered the toast, but eventually confiscated the spoon from his daughter. For a moment, the little girl’s lower lip quivered, and he feared a temper tantrum. Then Emily laughed and, reaching over, began to tug on his shirtsleeve.

“Dadadada!” she said. “Wuv dada.”

Noah stared in surprise, then turned to Beth. “When did she learn that?”

“I’ve been working with her on it for a while. I wanted to surprise you.” She walked over and set the platter of sausages and scrambled eggs on the table, then sat down across from Noah. “She also knows how to count to five. Emily’s quite bright, you know.”

“Guess I’ve a lot to learn about my daughter.”

He picked up the platter, scooped a generous serving of eggs and sausages onto his plate, then passed the platter to Beth. After cutting a sausage into bite-sized pieces, Noah added the meat to Emily’s bowl, along with some eggs and a half slice of toast.

As they ate, Noah periodically turned from Beth to Emily, savoring the warm, comforting sense of family he felt. He was so blessed. So very, very blessed.

After finishing breakfast and putting the dishes and pans to soak, they headed out for the church. Hardly anyone was about yet, but plenty of buggies and buckboards would begin arriving within the next half hour. Just enough time, with Beth’s help, to dress the altar, light the candles, and don his vestments.

Helen Yates was already inside, warming up at the old Grand Chapel reed organ. Noah had long dreamt of a bigger, finer pipe organ—a state-of-the-art Hook and Hastings whose music would resound off the rafters and make the heavens vibrate with deep, rich tones. But what with the church renovations still needed and the necessity of a substantial downpayment before work could even begin on an instrument that took years to build, such an organ would be a long time in coming. Still, Helen was an excellent organist and always coaxed the fullest performance from the little organ they did have.

Their choir, though small as well, was excellent. Noah missed Mary Sue Peterson’s stunning voice, however. But then, she had been an asset to the church in so many ways.

Noah was profoundly grateful the jury had found Mary Sue innocent of premeditated murder, choosing to accept her claim of justifiable self-defense. Thank the Lord two lives hadn’t been ruined on the night of Harlow Peterson’s death.

The communion service went smoothly, and Noah’s sermon evoked a favorable response, if the lack of coughing, snoring, and nodding heads was any indication. However, as Noah turned to the congregation to deliver the final blessing, Conor MacKay stood, walked up the aisle, and climbed the altar steps to stand beside Noah.

A quizzical look on his face, Noah turned to Conor. “Is there something you wish to say to us before I conclude the service?”

Culdee Creek’s owner nodded. “Most certainly, Father Starr.” He turned to face the congregation.

“Sometimes,” Conor began, his deep voice reaching to the back of the church, “we take for granted people we cherish the most, imagining they’ll always be there for us and that, because of their great strength and holiness of life, they don’t need or want our meager approbation or thanks. All of us, however, are human. All of us have times when life seems to be handing out one misfortune after another, when it almost seems as if the Lord has forgotten us or turned His back on us.

“But that’s when the Lord comes in disguise, in the form of his beloved creatures, to bolster that person up, to comfort, reassure, and bless. That’s when the Lord looks to His people to take a turn at being Christ to each other.”

Conor laid a hand on Noah’s shoulders. “I think that time is long past due for our brother here, don’t you? He’s weighed down mightily just now with pain and loss. And any of you who were present at Mary Sue Peterson’s trial two days ago must have surely seen his torment and heard him speak of his grief at how he had failed as a pastor. But I’m here to say that I’ve known Father Starr for over fourteen years now, and I find no better man among us. He has helped me and my family through countless crises, comforted us in our pain, and shared in our joys. Indeed, I wouldn’t be the man I am in Christ today without his guidance, and that of my wife.”

Conor paused to look around. “So what I’m asking is for anyone who feels called to do so, to stand up and share what this man has meant to him or her. As he has always bolstered us in our times of need, let us do the same for him now.”

The heat rising in his face, Noah turned to his friend. “Really, Conor, this isn’t necessary. I don’t—”

Hannah MacKay stood. “He welcomed me into the church when most people shunned me,” she said, speaking up in a strong, clear voice. “He taught me of grace, of the countless second chances to be found in the Lord’s open, loving arms. I don’t know what I would’ve done or if I’d ever have had the courage to walk with the Lord, if it hadn’t been for Noah Starr.”

Noah smiled at Hannah in gratitude. She smiled and nodded in turn, then took her seat. As she did, Claire MacKay stood, tugging her husband to his feet beside her.

“Ye taught us both, my Evan and me, of the great treasure to be found in a loving, generous heart and of the blessings of family. Ye saved our marriage, too, didn’t he, Evan?”

Evan grinned sheepishly. “Yes, you did, Noah. And if not in words but only in my heart, I thank you for that every day.”

Before the couple could even sit back in their pew, three or four others climbed to their feet. Each took their turn sharing their experiences of Noah’s contributions in their lives. And as Noah gazed back at the beloved people he had known and served all these years, each one spoke up until the entire church had had their say.

Each and every one, until there was only one person left, a slender woman in a dark hat and veil that covered her face, standing in the back of the church. When no one else remained standing but her, she lifted her veil and stared straight into Noah’s eyes.

“I forgive you,” she said. “Can you forgive me?”

Until this moment, Noah had managed to maintain a strict control over his emotions. Seeing Mary Sue Peterson standing there, however, was the final blow to his already wavering resolve not to break down.

The tears came even as he said, “Yes, of course I forgive you. Of course.”

Conor’s hand tightened on Noah’s shoulder. “Do you see now how we feel about you?” he asked. “Do you still doubt for a moment the profound effect you’ve had on our lives? Do you?”

“No,” Noah replied hoarsely, fiercely blinking back the tears. “No, I don’t.”

His friend smiled. “Then all that’s left is the final blessing. Only this time, permit us to bless you.”