The Runaway Pastor's Wife (19 page)

She eyed the scribbled name on her registry.
Thick, penciled eyebrows rose to meet his gaze. “Why yes, Mr. . . Smith.
’Course the diner won’t open for another hour but you could pick up some
packaged food over at the Shop ‘N Go just down the street. They keep a fresh
pot of coffee going if you’re so inclined.”

“Thanks.”

“That’ll be thirty-five dollars cash or I can
take a credit card, if you’d prefer.”

He handed her a pair of twenties and turned to
check out the store down the street. He could hear her panty hose swishing as
she made her way to the cash register behind her.

“Here’s your change and your key. Cottage 12  is
located around back. You can just pull your car around and park right by the
door.”

“Thanks,” he answered, then added, “Oh, could
you give me a wake-up call around ten?”

“Be happy to, Mr. Smith.”

“Oh, one more thing. Is there a bus station
around here?”

“On Broadway just off Tenth. Take Sixteenth here
on up about two miles then take a right on Columbia, left on Twelfth then
another right on Broadway. You’ll see it.”

He hoped he’d remember. He made a brief visit to
the convenience store to pick up a couple of packaged muffins. Back at Cottage
12, he was pleased to find the room out of sight from the road. He gathered his
things and went inside. The cozy room was spotless despite its early 60s decor.
His legs felt like concrete as he made his way over to the sink. He peeled off
his jacket with what energy he had left and let it drop to the floor. The
bright red stains on his shirt alarmed him. He made his way over to the bed
despite the dizziness.

I’ve got to change these bandages before I—

The fatigue overpowered him as he looked at the
large, comfortable bed. His medical needs would have to wait. Even as his head
rested gently on the pillow, a desperate slumber devoured him.

CHAPTER 12

Eagle’s Nest

After a long and restless night, Annie knew she
had to get some fresh air. She had to shake off the nagging despair that was
creeping into her heart. If she could just go outside and breathe in the crisp,
clear mountain air, maybe she would feel some
sense of release. One
thing was for sure: she couldn’t wallow in this outburst of disappointment or
anger. That was not why she came to this paradise.

Bundled up in layers of winter clothing, Annie
sensed a deep longing for something—
anything
to take her mind off her
problems. She pulled on the heavy waterproof boots and clomped her way to the
door.
Unlocking the heavy oak door, she threw it open and felt like she
was breathing for the first time in her life. The frigid air stung as she
inhaled deeply, but the slight discomfort was worth it. It felt clean and fresh
and wonderful
.
She was grateful for the momentary break in the
storm, though the snow continued to fall. Maybe the worst was over. Then again,
maybe not. In the distance she could see more ominous clouds rolling in. She
wouldn’t go far.

Annie felt the smile on her face as she basked
in the awesome display before her. Yesterday’s frustration and heartache seemed
miles away. Now, as she inhaled the cold, perfect air, its bite was already
invigorating her, reaffirming her need to be right here, right now. This was
where she was supposed to be.

She welcomed the crunching beneath her boots as
she blazed a new trail in the untouched blanket of glistening snow. Staying as
close to the road as possible, she was careful, not wishing to lose her way in
such unfamiliar surroundings. Bob and Mary Jean were right; there wasn’t any
traffic up this way. At other times, such solitude would have made her uneasy,
but she welcomed it today.

If only God would speak to her heart again.

She forced herself to block out all the negative
feelings still unspent. For now, they would have to wait. In this moment she
wanted to ponder only the blessings in her life. Any residue of angst in her
spirit must give way to the good. At least for now.

She thought about her children. Three of the
most delightful gifts on the face of the earth. Max, their precious first
child. Now they could see only rare traces of the dark-haired little boy as he
was blossoming into manhood. So tall and handsome. There was something so
intriguing about those dark brown eyes. His wide grin, deep dimples, and
contagious laughter made him popular in any crowd. His good looks attracted
plenty of attention from the girls at church and school, but his strength of
character set him apart. She and David had loved him from the moment they laid
eyes on him. He was only eight months old when they adopted him into their arms
and into their hearts forever. He had been a joy every single day of his life.
Oh, but where did all the years go? Was it really possible he was almost as
tall as David now?

And Jeremy, her little fireball always bursting
with energy and imagination. Caroline had shown her pictures of David as a boy.
The resemblance was incredible. Jeremy, so much like his father in both looks
and personality. That McGregor nose already struggling to claim its rightful
place on Jeremy’s handsome young face. How he could make her laugh! Even when
he got into mischief, which happened almost everyday, he could reduce her to
gales of laughter. The way he arched his right eyebrow when he wanted to appear
more mature. The way he mimicked famous characters. She loved his Elvis
impersonation of Noah greeting the animals into the ark . . .
Mr.
Giraffe, nice to see you. You and the little lady step right on up. Thank
you—thank you very much.
She laughed out loud at the memory.

Oh Jeremy, you make our lives so much fun.

And sweet little Jessica, with her innocent
smile, twinkling sapphire eyes and head full of bouncing blonde curls
.
You’re Daddy’s little heart-stopper, and my angel bunny. God sent you as a
reminder to us of all the wonders of life. The simple joys around us. I love
that picture we have of you—the one where your eyes are all lit up in awe of
the baby bunny you found in your Easter basket. And how I love the hugs you
give me for no special reason. “Just because” hugs, you call them. The sweet
sound of your voice singing Christmas carols while you bake cookies with
me . . . oh sweetie, how I love you.

They’re all my pride and joy, each in their own
special way. I cannot imagine life without them.

Caroline, far more like a mother to her than
Annie’s own, was the real mentor in her life. David had loved and respected his
father, but his mother had always been the foundation of the family. Her solid
faith in God and her intimate walk with Him made her an irresistible strength
to every life she encountered.

But before there was Max or Jeremy or Jessie or
Caroline, there was David.
Annie closed her eyes to see his face. She
forced up a wall to block out all the recent hurts and resentments. She wanted
to remember the David she fell in love with. She needed to focus on those
memories right now.

Her life forever changed from the moment they’d
met. After the bitter break-up from her college sweetheart, she had vowed to
never again trust any man. She would never allow herself to be that vulnerable
again. Determined to live her life as an independent single, she’d landed a
teaching job in
Tulsa
immediately after graduation.
She planned to take night classes to first earn a masters degree, then a
doctorate in education. Her goal was to one day teach on the college level.

With a heavy background in American history, she
planned to travel extensively throughout the
United States
in her
quest to learn everything she could about the birth and beginning years of
America
. She
passionately believed the recent cultural trends had transported
America
far
away from the goals and dreams of its forefathers. She wanted to make a
difference. She wanted to teach the truth.

Such plans made no provision for marriage. Annie
didn’t need a man in her life. They were nothing but heartache and trouble. Her
own father, whom she adored with a childlike wonder, had died suddenly and
without warning. On a family vacation, he dropped dead, the victim of a
cerebral hemorrhage. Just ten years old, she mourned his unexpected absence for
years before finally accepting it. While all around her, her friends’ parents
were ripped apart by nasty divorces, Annie soon realized that men weren’t
around for the long haul, regardless of the circumstances.

Men could not be counted on. Period. A life
without the complication of a romantic relationship was much more suitable to
the overall vision for her life.

Then one rainy October evening, on the way home
from a late faculty meeting at school, a UPS truck flew through a red light,
hitting her broadside. Her compact car spun out of control before slamming into
a street light. When it finally stopped, she was dazed; not so much worried
about the sticky pain on her forehead as the chaos of her students’ test papers
now strewn across the front seat of her car. Staring at the huge raindrops
splattering the papers, she found herself unable to think what to do about it.

The next thing she remembered was waking up in
the emergency room, bright lights and loud voices drifting around her like some
surrealistic dream. A nagging female voice repeatedly asked for a name or
number to notify a family member or friend. She couldn’t think of a soul. Then
a cloud of total blackness swallowed her into a merciful sleep.

A mild concussion accompanied the more serious
internal injuries she sustained, including a ruptured spleen, several broken
ribs and a broken arm. She lost track of how many times people said she was
lucky to be alive. She certainly didn’t feel very lucky. Recovery from the
physical injuries was slow and painful, parking her in the hospital for over a
month.

The emotional recovery was something altogether
different.

For hours, she would stare out the window of her
hospital room. Too angry to cry, she pondered the ramifications of her setback.
Between insurance from the UPS people and her own salary, the financial aspects
of the ordeal didn’t concern her.

It was the lost time in the scope of her precise
and well-ordered plans which frustrated her most. It would be weeks, maybe
months, before she would be able to return to the classroom. The disruption in
her lesson plans would throw them far behind schedule, her agenda shot to
oblivion. During visiting hours, a steady stream of students and their parents
always lifted her spirits on the one hand, but caused additional anxiety as she
listened to their complaints about their “boring and crabby” substitute.
Catching up from this despised leave of absence would be gruesome.

Then there was her graduate work. The university
was sympathetic to her misfortune, but such a long absence from her classes
necessitated dropping them for the remainder of the semester. The work on her
research project also came to a screeching halt. Another postponement in her
grandiose plans.

All in all, it wasn’t fair.

Annie had always thrived on the hectic pace of
her established lifestyle. So much idle time in her hospital room depressed
her. It sucked her into a downward spiral which consumed her more each day. Too
much time to think. Too many unsolicited thoughts and memories.

A couple weeks into her hospitalization, in the
midst of this despondency, came a quiet knock on her door one afternoon.

“Chaplain,” announced a man’s voice from outside
her partially opened door. “Mind if I come in?” Annie rolled her eyes and kept
silent.
Maybe he’ll go away.

Another gentle knock as the door silently
opened. “Oh, I’m sorry—I assumed since you didn’t answer you were either asleep
or out of the room. Is it okay if I come in for a minute?”

Annie visualized a retired, bald preacher, no
doubt obese, with gravy stains on his too-short tie and nose hairs grossly in
need of a trim. She was not prepared for the tall, well-built handsome man
strolling into her room. He was young, probably not much older than she was.
And his eyes immediately captivated her. She’d never seen such a deep shade of
blue.
His whole demeanor seemed to warm the room even as he entered.

This guy’s a chaplain?
“Um,
okay.”

He walked toward her, extending his right hand.
“I’m David McGregor, one of the chaplains assigned to this floor.” He grasped
her hand in a confident, firm handshake then looked down at a clipboard in his
other hand. He wore a long-sleeved freshly starched shirt, forest green with some
sort of tan insignia on the pocket. The rich color seemed to enhance his thick,
black hair and those mesmerizing blue eyes. It wasn’t the striking face of a
male model, but his broad smile and sheepish expression could surely melt an
ice cube from ten paces.

“And you are . . . Annie
Franklin. Nice to meet you, Annie Franklin.” His smile seemed genuine and
sincere. Annie was astonished to feel herself blushing. She busied herself
arranging her covers. Attempting to pull herself up by grabbing the overhead
bar, she grimaced.