Promising Angela (18 page)

His feet scuffed through dried leaves and pine needles as he moved forward, the beam of the flashlight bouncing ahead. He stared at the beam, his thoughts tumbling haphazardly through his confused mind. The remainder of the weekend would be less stressful for him if he didn’t have to see her. One word—just one word—and she’d be returned to Petersburg in disgrace. His chest contracted painfully. Could he do that to her even if it meant having the weekend free of her presence? What a price to pay for his own comfort.

And if he told the administrator, Bruce would contact the authorities. Drugs were illegal. Bruce would be obligated to tell. Then Angela wouldn’t be at New Beginnings anymore.

That wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, he told himself. How much easier work would be if he didn’t have to see her, be tortured daily by the rush of love and desire that struck with every glimpse of her. Surely if she weren’t a part of his everyday routine, he would be able to free himself of the love that had grown for her. Or would he?

The wavering flashlight beam swung back and forth, illuminating the path. His thoughts swung back and forth, illuminating nothing.
Turn her in—it’s the right thing to do. Don’t turn her in—it’s a selfish thing to do.

He wanted to do the right thing, but the right thing for whom? Turning her in would solve his own problem of having to see her every day. Not turning her in, while giving her a temporary reprieve, would only enable her to continue in drug use.

So turning her in was right for both of them … wasn’t it?

“Lord, what do I do?” He spoke the words aloud, his anguished thoughts causing his stomach to churn.

Voices and soft laughter drifted through the evening air. He was nearly back to the bonfire. He had to make a decision.

What if he left it to chance? His heart thudded at his own variation of Russian roulette. If he spotted Bruce first, he’d turn Angela over to him. If he spotted Angela first, he’d try to find another way to set things right.

He reached the clearing where people were picking up napkins and crumpled Styrofoam cups, dashing the bonfire with water, and preparing to go back to the dormitories. He scanned the crowd, but he didn’t find Angela or Bruce. His heart picked up its tempo. Had she sneaked back to the dorms to make a marijuana cigarette? The smell would certainly alert everyone. He needed to find her, warn her.

That impulse convinced him he didn’t want to turn her in. Although he knew it was wrong to keep secret what he’d discovered, a part of him wanted to give Angela one more chance. One more chance to do the right thing. His breath came in spurts out of his nose as he trotted past the groups moving slowly toward the dormitories.

He prepared an ultimatum as he hurried to locate Angela. If she would give him the marijuana, he would dispose of it and keep it secret. But he would make sure she understood if she chose to purchase drugs again, she was on her own. He wouldn’t interfere a second time. This would be a one-shot deal. He hoped she’d take it.

As he neared the dorms, beams from a pair of headlights appeared on the lane leading to the campsite. Ben’s steps slowed as the car rolled to a stop directly in front of the women’s dormitory. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized the insignia on the driver’s door. A sheriff’s vehicle.

Someone had already discovered Angela had marijuana! So his ultimatum wouldn’t be offered after all. Relief and regret mingled in his chest. Though greatly relieved he hadn’t had to be the one to make the call, he regretted that it was necessary at all. If only he’d been wrong. If only she hadn’t gone looking for drugs tonight …

He stopped, watching as the officer turned off the headlights and stepped out of his vehicle. “Hey, what’s going on?” someone behind him asked. The others had caught up and stood in small clusters on the grass outside the dorms.

Ben didn’t answer. He wanted no role in Angela’s downfall.

The sheriff, standing in the
V
of the open car door, rested his forearm on the top of the vehicle and called, “I’m looking for Angela Fisher.”

A mumble of voices sounded behind Ben. His heart twisted in sympathy. How humiliating for her to be summoned this way. He longed to protect her, yet he knew he was powerless. She’d made her choice. Just like Kent, she’d have to suffer the consequences.

The dormitory door opened, throwing a splash of light across the concrete sidewalk. The glint of gold in her tangled curls resembled a halo. “I’ve never been called an angel,” she’d said at supper the night before. Ben’s heart ached.

He watched her straighten her shoulders, tossing her gilded curls. “I’m Angela.”

The sheriff turned toward Angela as the crowd surged forward, curiosity driving them closer to the action. Whispered questions and suppositions floated through the throng, but Ben shut out those voices and concentrated on the sheriff.

Angela met the man halfway between the car and the dormitory. A circle of light from an overhead lantern illuminated the pair, showing the sheriff’s stern expression and Angela’s pale face. She extended her hands toward him, palms up. Ben held his breath. Did she expect the sheriff to handcuff her? But then he saw that her hands weren’t empty. The bag of marijuana rested on her open palms.

“Here you are.” Her voice was strong, carrying over the mutters behind him.

Another flurry of voices broke out.

“What is it?”

“I think it’s some sort of drug.”

“Where would she have gotten that?”

Ben took a step forward, an attempt to block the voices behind him. He needed to hear the sheriff and Angela.

The sheriff took the packet and turned it over in his hands, a scowl pinching his eyebrows. “Well, you were right. It certainly appears to be marijuana.”

Ben’s jaw nearly dropped. Based on the sheriff’s words, Angela must have alerted him herself. But she wouldn’t have done that if—

The sheriff continued. “Is this all of it?”

Angela’s shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. “I don’t know if there was more. This is all they dropped.”

“Dropped?”

“Yes, sir. When the boys ran off, they left this behind. I just picked it up.”

The sheriff reached into his breast pocket and removed a small pad and pencil. He flipped the pad open and looked at Angela. “How did you happen to join these boys?” The sheriff’s sharp tone made Ben cringe, but Angela straightened her shoulders and faced the man squarely.

“I was taking a walk, doing some thinking. I had no idea anyone else was out there when I started my walk. I heard laughter and saw a fire. I was curious, so I approached them. It was just … coincidence.”

“So you had no intention of using the drugs?”

Angela’s gaze flitted briefly to the listening crowd. Her face looked pale, yet there was a calmness in her eyes that spoke of strength. “To be honest, sir, when I saw what they had, I was tempted. There was a time when I found a release in drugs. But I’m not that person anymore. I made a promise to God that I would never use drugs again. I intend to keep that promise.”

The sheriff gave a brusque nod. “And you don’t know who these boys are?”

“No. This is my first time at Camp Fellowship. I’m from Petersburg, and I don’t know any of the local families.” Her face crunched for a moment, her head tipping to spill curls across her shoulder. “I got the impression from their behavior, though, that the boys had been at that location before. They seemed familiar with the area.”

Ben felt his heart beat in his temples. Thinking of the campfire he’d extinguished, he realized Angela was right. The amount of ashes within the circle of rocks, and the scattering of old cans and bottles in the little clearing, indicated more than one party had taken place out there.

“Could you find the clearing again, if need be?”

“Yes, sir. I believe so.”

Ben nodded. He could help.

“Do you suppose you could give a description of the boys?” the sheriff asked.

Angela’s face pinched into a thoughtful frown. “It was pretty dark, but I think I could. It might not be very accurate, though.”

The swell of voices behind Ben started again, covering the descriptions Angela provided while the sheriff wrote on the notepad. The sheriff finished his scribbling then looked at Angela again. “While I appreciate you calling this in, your past history does give me reason to question your lack of involvement.”

Angela nodded, her head low. Ben’s heart ached at the dejected, shame-filled pose. It ached more when he realized he’d treated her just as the sheriff was now.

The sheriff asked, “Were any other campers around who could substantiate your story?”

Without a second thought, Ben stepped forward. “Sir.” He waited until the sheriff looked at him. Angela didn’t move. “I was out there, too.”

The sheriff angled his pen against the pad. “You are?”

“Ben Atchison.” Ben stated his address and telephone.

“And you were at the scene?”

Ben clarified, “Not at first. Angela went out on her own. But when she didn’t come back to the bonfire, I got worried.

I thought maybe she’d lost her way in the dark, so I went looking for her. Before I came upon the clearing, I very clearly heard her telling someone to give her the marijuana.”

He looked at Angela, wishing she would meet his gaze, but she remained silent with her eyes downcast. He went on. “She didn’t ask to use it; she just told them to hand it over. When I reached the clearing, I saw the three boys run off into the woods. They dropped the marijuana before they left.”

The sheriff wrote a little more then flipped the pad closed and slipped it into his breast pocket. “Thank you, Mr. Atchison.” Turning back to Angela, he said, “Miss Fisher, I will contact your parole office to let him know what transpired this evening. He may need to ask you a few questions when you return to Petersburg.”

Angela finally lifted her head and offered a small nod in reply.

For the first time, the sheriff lost his stern expression. “I’m sure this was a difficult decision for you, to call me, knowing the possible repercussions. I appreciate your making the call. Obviously, we don’t want our local youth involved in drug use. Hopefully we’ll be able to identify these boys and get them some help.”

“I hope so, sir.” Her voice sounded weak, its former firm tone wilting.

The sheriff strode to his vehicle and drove away from the camp while several people pushed forward, surrounding Angela. Their words of praise for her actions filled Ben’s ears. After a few minutes of excited activity, they began to wander into the dormitories, leaving only Angela, Stephanie, and Robyn waiting under the light of the lantern. When Angela’s gaze shifted to meet Ben’s, Stephanie and Robyn exchanged a look behind Angela’s head.

Stephanie said, “We’ll turn in now, Angela.”

“Yes, but holler if you need anything,” Robyn said, shooting a brief glance in Ben’s direction.

He hung his head. The women had cause for concern, based on his past behavior. He hoped he could rectify that now. He waited until Robyn and Stephanie shut the dormitory door behind them before whispering a simple question.

“Need a hug?”

Angela gave a start. Had she heard him correctly? The tender look on his face proved she hadn’t misunderstood. And a hug was exactly what she needed.

She took one hesitant step toward him, and he closed the gap with three firm strides. She flung herself into Ben’s embrace. His arms closed around her, holding her securely against his chest, and she pressed her cheek to his collarbone as tears stung behind her eyes. How she’d needed this hug! And to have it come from Ben … She thought her heart might burst from the emotion that pressed upward.

She allowed the warmth of Ben’s arms and his heartbeat beneath her ear to soothe away every worry of the last several minutes. How she’d feared the sheriff would refuse to listen to her explanation, would simply haul her away in disgrace. Her knees still quivered slightly as the tension slowly drained away. She replayed words of congratulations and approval from the other campers at her courage, but as much as she appreciated the support of the others, what she really needed to know is what Ben thought of her now.

Reluctantly, she pulled away. His hands slipped from her waist as she took a step backward and lifted her face to meet his gaze. “Thank you for the hug, Ben. I—I needed it.”

His sweet smile—the smile she’d longed to see for so long—made her knees go weak again. But not from anxiety.

“You’re welcome.”

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “Could—could we talk?”

“I think we should.” Ben stretched out his hand, pressing his palm to the small of her back. A tingle traveled from her spine to her hairline, prickling her scalp. Without a word, he guided her across the shadowed landscape to the bench in the middle of the courtyard. They sat, one at each end of the bench, with a gap between them. Angling her knees toward the center, she faced Ben.

The overhead tree branches waving in front of the lantern cast speckled shadows across Ben’s face, but she could make out his expression. None of the recrimination of previous days remained. Her heart thudded in a hopeful double beat.