Different Paths (5 page)

An uncomfortable silence stretched until Jethro broke it. “So, David and Tricia—and Sarah—how long will you be in town to help out with the move?”

David made a circle in the air with his fork while he finished chewing. “For a few days. There are some rooms that need painting, some bigger things that need unpacking. That sort of thing.”

Alan pointed at his brother-in-law’s bulging arms. “Those muscles really come in handy.”

“I’m glad to help out.”

“And Tricia’s great with decorating,” Katherine said. “I’ve never had an eye for that sort of thing, so she’s invaluable.”

Tricia squirmed in her seat beside me. “Thanks, Kathy. You know I enjoy it.” She glanced at David. “But we can’t stay too long. Our daughter Elena is at home and we need to get back to her. She’s sixteen and has a summer baby-sitting job she couldn’t leave.”

“Ugh,” Sarah said. “I remember those days. Taking care of kids all day long. What an awful way to spend a summer.”

Tricia’s fork stilled. “It’s a good job.”

“Sure. I’m just glad I’m past all that so I can get to something better. Much more interesting, you know.”

Ma stood up to refill water glasses. “Have you moved into the church office yet, Katherine?”

Katherine had just taken a bite, so she nodded while she chewed and swallowed. “We’ve lugged most of my stuff over there. Boxes and boxes of books—again David’s been a big help—the artwork I’ve collected through the years, that sort of thing. I’m looking forward to getting the place organized.”

Belle, Zach’s mom, leaned across the other side of Randy to better see Katherine. “And have you met any of your congregants?”

“Well, we got to know a lot of them when I was candidating and coming down for search committee meetings during the past year. And we were able to be at the service this past Sunday morning—”

Sarah waved her hand at her shoulder. “Me, too.”

Katherine smiled. “Yes, Sarah joined us.” She flicked amused eyes toward Tricia, who didn’t respond. And who I guessed hadn’t gone to church. “We thought we would go even though I’m not officially on duty until this weekend. Since we’d arrived on Saturday we figured we might as well attend.”

“And your reception?” Belle’s expression was serious.

“Very warm. Very friendly. It was a relief, which was silly, since they
did
ask me to take the job.”

Sarah nodded. “They were really happy to see her.”

I looked at Katherine. “You were worried how they’d treat you?”

“Sure. There are always some people, no matter where you go, who don’t think women should be preaching. Franconia Conference, where we are here, is progressing—there have been a few churches with women pastors, like Zion and Perkasie—but there are still some areas that won’t even entertain the idea. I’ve had my share of nasty letters and phone calls. But a lot of support, too. I really can’t complain.”

“Well, you should.” Ma set her water glass down so hard it almost spilled. “Nasty letters aren’t Christian. Especially if they aren’t signed. And those weren’t, were they?”

Katherine grinned and her eyes held a mischievous sparkle. “A
few
of them might have been.”

Alan put his arm around the back of his wife’s chair. “Katherine will be okay. She’s dealt with crazies in the past, she can do it again.”

They smiled at each other.

“Not all people against women in ministry are crazies.”

We turned as one to look at David.

He glanced around at our faces, his words faltering. But he continued. “Remember that couple up in New York? They liked you as a person, Katherine, but with the way they interpreted the Scriptures they just couldn’t accept you. And those men that wrote to you from Lancaster when you were testing the waters out there, wanting to move closer to us. They weren’t crazy. Just conservative.”

Jethro snorted. “Seems to me those things often go together.”

“Just like with liberals,” Ma snapped. “There are some in every group.”

Jethro stopped his sniggering and was almost able to look meek.

“Please continue, David.” Ma returned her attention to her guest.

“I don’t really have anything else to say.”

“We try not to get too worked up about the letters,” Katherine said. “Like David told you, a lot of them are people just trying to express their beliefs.”

“Have you had any mean letters from this area?” I asked.

Ma clicked her tongue. “Not already, surely.”

“Nothing yet,” Katherine said. “I hope that’s a good sign.”

Alan pushed a few final kernels of corn onto his fork. “As we said earlier, at least she’s not the first woman to grace the pulpit in the conference. A few others have paved the way.”

“And this is the time for women,” Sarah said. “I mean, women can run for president now. And be important things like lawyers and ministers. Make a difference.”

Jethro pointed his knife at Trevor. “You’re probably used to the controversy by now. What do you think?”

Trevor sat slouched in his chair, his plate empty. He looked up at Jethro. “What do
I
think? Who cares? It’s not like it’s mattered before.” His face turned red, and he looked down toward his lap, where he messed with the buttons on his watch.

The rest of us looked anywhere but at his parents, so I’m not sure what they were doing.

But Trevor’s comments pretty much changed the subject for good.

Chapter Eight

“It was awful,” I said.

Lucy shook her head slowly, her elbow resting on the door of her Civic. “Poor boy. And poor parents. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision to make, coming down here for his senior year.”

“They’re lucky he came along. I would’ve just found someone else to live with for the year.”

Lucy barked a laugh. “You think anyone would’ve had you?”

“Hey, now.”

Lucy got in her car and shut the door.

I leaned toward her open window, my hand on the top of her car. “But Katherine and her husband seem like nice folks. You might want to get to know them once her sister and brother-in-law leave town. Have them over for some of your famous chili.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. Right now I have to get home and make sure my own family ate some decent supper.”

“I thought you did that earlier.”

“I did, but they weren’t hungry. Seems they’d just eaten a whole batch of popcorn before I got home.”

I laughed.

“Yeah, go ahead and laugh. Sometimes those two get so caught up in doing the new father-daughter thing they forget to eat properly. Or supper consists of going to Mom’s Ice Cream Shop.”

“Could be worse.”

“I guess. They could forget to eat at all.” She smiled brightly. “See you tomorrow.”

I tapped the roof of the car and tried to step back, but Queenie stood so close I almost tripped. I led her away and watched as Lucy pulled out the drive. I stood there for a few more moments, looking at my quiet, empty house.

“So, Queenie.”

Her eyebrows twitched as she watched my face.

“Let’s go check on Wendy.”

There was still enough light for us to walk out to the back corner of the pasture, where Wendy stood.

“Oh, good. Look, Queenie. Her hind end’s looking a bit more engorged, wouldn’t you say? I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a baby by morning.”

Queenie’s nose twitched, and she sneezed.

“All right. So you don’t really care.”

I gave Wendy a few encouraging words and we left her on her own. Soon we were back at the sidewalk that led up to the house. Twilight had now come, and along with the silencing of the birds came the darkness of my windows. I reached down to scratch Queenie’s head. “Want to come in for a while?”

She did, and she followed me into the kitchen, toenails clicking on the Linoleum. I went to the phone, looked up the number of the hospital, and called Carla. After making my way past the receptionist and the guard nurse—sorry,
duty
nurse—I heard the phone in Carla’s room pick up. But, as earlier when I called Nick, I didn’t hear the voice I wanted.

“Bryan?”

“Yes, this is he.”

Oh, so grammatically
correct
. “Stella here. Can I talk to Carla?”

“I’m sorry, but she’s having her vitals taken right now.”

I heard Carla’s voice in the background, and that static sound you get when someone holds his hand over the mouthpiece of a phone.

Bryan was back. “She says to tell you she’s fine. There’s nothing new.”

Actually, there were a lot of new things. The discovery of her truck, for instance. And I had questions, like whether or not they’d let her eat, if she was still on pain meds, whether or not Willard had told her about her truck, and, most importantly, how the injury in her head was faring.

But I didn’t want to talk to Bryan about any of it.

“All right. Tell her I’ll see her tomorrow.”

“I will. Thank you for calling.”

I hung up. “
Thank you for calling
.”

Queenie looked up from her spot on the floor.

“Sorry, girl. I wasn’t talking to you.”

Hoping my bad luck wasn’t going to hold, I picked up the phone again and dialed Nick’s number. It’s hard to dial when your fingers are crossed.

“Hey, Stella.”

“Oh, thank God.”

He laughed. “What? Why?”

“I was afraid I was going to get Miss Crabby Pants again.”

“Miss Crabby Pants?”

“Your beloved little sister. Miranda. The one who hates my guts.”

“She doesn’t hate you. But why would you get her by calling my phone?”

I took a breath and shared a look with Queenie. “She didn’t tell you.”

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“That I called earlier today. And that she answered your phone.”

“She did?” He went quiet for a few seconds. “I went out for lunch with Robbie. Liz’s boyfriend. I left the phone here to charge.”

“Well, it wasn’t charging all that time, because little Miss…Miranda…answered it.”

Silence again. I was sure Nick was wondering just what his sister had been doing with his phone.

“So,” he said. “What’s going on with Carla?”

I opened my mouth to say something more about Miranda, but decided to let it go. Instead, I told him all about my visit with Willard.

“So at least they have her truck.”

“Lots of good that’ll do,” I said. “Thing’s totaled.”

“But the fingerprints…”

“Yeah. We’ll see if that pans out.”

“Does Carla know about it?”

“I don’t know. I tried to call her just now, but got the weird boyfriend, instead.”

“Stella…”

“The man’s only known her three weeks, and he’s screening her calls?”

“Why didn’t she answer?”

“He said she was having her vitals taken.”

“So it sounds like she
couldn’t
have answered the phone herself just then.”

“Well, no, but…”

“You want to go sit by her bedside all day? I don’t think so.”

I bristled. “I would if she needed me to.”

“So maybe that’s why he’s there. He thinks she
does
need him to. Maybe—and don’t yell at me here—she likes it.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” I hesitated. “
You
don’t like it.”

“What?”

“People hanging around all day, taking care of you.”

“But that’s my mom. My sisters. If it were
you
, it would be a lot easier to take. In fact, I think I’d like it a lot.”

“Really?”

“Really. Because, you know, I do love you. And not just because you’re hot.”

I laughed, startling Queenie from her half-slumber at my feet. “I know. It’s because I’m so sweet and submissive and will do anything you say.”

Now he laughed. “Right. In fact, it’s too bad you’re not here right now or I’d really give you something to do.”

“Oh, yeah? And what would that be?”

He told me.

I turned away from Queenie so she wouldn’t see me blush.

Chapter Nine

“You hear that?”

I came out from the feed room, pushing the grain cart. “What?”

Zach hitched up his jeans. “On the radio. They’re asking anyone with information about Carla’s truck to call the police.”

“Still? Interesting.” But also disturbing. A second plea for calls must mean those fingerprints hadn’t worked out. Although Willard did say they were hoping for witnesses, or people who had seen the truck. I wondered if the cops had anything at all to go on. And I didn’t mean their toilets.

Zach was still standing beside Briar Rose. “Think they’ll get any tips?”

I dumped grain into a feed bowl, making a clatter. “Don’t know. Probably lots of people who
think
they know something, but really don’t. Or people who just want to feel important by calling the police.”

He grunted, and that was the end of the conversation.

Twenty minutes into some concerto or other on the radio, the phone rang.

I looked at the clock, and Zach looked at me. “Who’d be calling before six?”

I shook my head. “Can’t imagine.” Ma wouldn’t ask me to supper again that night, would she?

It rang again, and I jogged to the office and yanked up the receiver. “Yeah?”

“Stella, it’s Lucy.”

“What’s wrong?” Because something had to be wrong for her to call that early. Maybe Tess was sick and Lucy was going to be late.

“The church was vandalized.”

“Oh, no. Peter’s okay, isn’t he?” I pictured their kind minister, and the beautiful clean lines of the brick church and newly-painted sanctuary.

“Not our church. Kulpsville. Katherine’s church.”

“Katherine’s?”

“The woman who you met last night. The new minister.”

“I know who you mean, it’s just… What happened? Is she all right?”

“I guess so. I don’t know much else. Lenny went to The Towne for breakfast and one of the guys mentioned seeing a bunch of cop cars at the church, and heard something about a break-in, but he didn’t have details. I thought you might know something.”

“Nope. But I can think of someone who will have all the facts.”

“Ma?”

“You got it. I’ll call you back.”

I punched the flash button and dialed Ma’s number. She answered on the first ring.

“Ma? What happened at Katherine’s church? Is she okay?”

“You heard already?”

I explained Lenny’s early breakfast.

She harrumphed. “News sure does travel. Katherine’s fine. She wasn’t there since it happened in the middle of the night.”

I glanced at the clock again, even though I knew what time it was. “Then how did she find out already?” How did
everybody
find out?

“Her brother-in-law, David. He goes for a run each morning, real early. On his way back he went past the church and thought something looked off, so he jogged up to the door and saw it was open. He went right back to Katherine’s house to get Alan, and they went into the church together and found a mess.”

“What did the vandals do?” I hadn’t been inside that church for years, if ever, so I couldn’t picture their sanctuary or even any of their lay-out.

“The damage is mostly in Katherine’s office. The Pastor’s Study. She’d hardly unpacked anything yet, but the boxes were torn open. Her books were destroyed, all of her family pictures and artwork. It’s awful.” Her voice was steely. “And they broke into the computer and the filing cabinet. Who knows what personal things were in there. Notes the interim pastor left, information about people in the congregation. The members are not going to be happy.”

I closed my eyes. Not a good way for Katherine to get started. Even if it wasn’t her fault. “I hear they called the police.”

“Of course they did. They’re over there now.”

It wouldn’t be Willard. Kulpsville was out of his jurisdiction. “Will you let me know what they find out?”

“Yes. But I haven’t told you the worst of it.”

“What? I thought you said Katherine was okay.”

“She is. Physically. But she’s pretty shaken up. She was doing all right until she saw what they’d spray-painted on the wall of her office. Alan wanted to hide it from her, but there was no getting around it.”

Oh, crap. “What did it say?”

Ma’s breath went loudly in and out. “It took up almost the entire wall. In bright red. It said, ‘GO HOME SINNER.’”

***

“Poor Katherine.” Lucy stood beside me, leaning on her pitchfork. She’d shooed Zach off to check on his calf, and taken over his cleaning responsibilities. “And you know why they did it.”

I grunted and threw a load of wet shredded newspaper onto the manure conveyor.

Lucy continued. “It’s because she’s a woman. You know it is. I can’t imagine they have anything else in her life to complain about. And I certainly haven’t heard of any
other
new pastors getting that kind of a welcome. But, oh gee, they just all happen to be
men
.”

I peered at Lucy over my shoulder.

She picked up her pitchfork and jabbed it into the bedding of the stall next to mine. “I know, I know. I need to chill.”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just interesting to see you all het up about something.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, don’t get me started on this topic.” She threw her load out of the stall. “I’ll just focus my anger adrenaline into my work.”

I stood up and stretched my back. “So I can leave this all to you?”

She looked down the row. “Sure. There aren’t that many left, anyway.”

“Great.” I leaned my pitchfork against the wall. “I’m going to check on Wendy. Zach went out earlier and reported no new calf, but I’m going to go see for myself, to make sure we don’t need a vet.” When Gus, Zach’s first calf, had been born the summer before, Wendy had needed a C-section. I was keeping my fingers crossed she wouldn’t need one this time. Especially since Carla wouldn’t be making house calls anytime soon.

Lucy flung another load out of the stall and I got out of the way. Real quick.

Wendy had moved to another corner of the pasture, and it didn’t take an expert to know that birthing was imminent. A circle of wet splotched the ground behind her, and her back end, while not showing any little hooves, looked about ready to burst open. I stepped a little closer to pat her haunch, and she scuttled sideways, crunching my foot under her hoof.

I smothered the shout that rose up my throat and channeled the energy into shoving Wendy off my foot. When she finally shifted I hopped away, cursing. An attempt to step on my left foot sent sparks of pain up my ankle and leg, and I swore some more.

“Thanks a whole helluva lot.” I glared at Wendy. She gazed at me with her wide gentle eyes. She thought it was my own damn fault. She was probably right.

I hobbled back up the hill to the barn and limped into the parlor.

Lucy dropped the clean bedding from her arms and trotted over to me. “What happened? Is it Wendy?” She grabbed my arm. “Are you going to faint?”

“I am
not
going to faint. But I need to sit down.”

She guided me to a bale of straw and lowered me onto it. “What’s wrong?”

“Wendy—”

“The calf?”

“No. My foot. She stepped on it.”

“Oh, no.” Lucy looked down at my boot. “Can you walk?”

“Sort of.”

She gave me a flat look.

“Just go finish the stalls. I’ll sit here. It’ll be fine.”

“You need to go to the doctor.”

“No. I need to sit. Go away.”

She looked at me some more, then shook her head. “You’re worse than Tess.”

“So?”

She made a growling sound and spun around, going back to work.

I leaned against the wall, hoping the dizziness in my head would soon go away.

It didn’t.

A half hour later, Lucy was back. “Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up. If you can walk without wincing, I’ll leave you alone.”

I glared at her. “Are you my mother?”

She tapped her foot.

I stood up. But not without wincing.

She pushed me back onto the straw. “I’m going to tell Zach where we’ll be. Don’t go anywhere.”

As if.