Читать книгу Gabriel's Discovery - Felicia Mason - Страница 11

Susan hid a smile by taking another nibble of popcorn.

“I’m actually glad you came over,” she said. “I wanted to speak with you about something.”

“Hi there, Pastor Gabriel,” said a man who touched the brim of his Denver Broncos cap in greeting as he passed. “Great picnic.”

“Thanks, nice seeing you, John.”

“You’re the popular one,” Susan observed.

Good Shepherd Christian Church’s Labor Day picnic had grown into something of a tradition for members of the congregation as well as the community. The church stocked what seemed like an endless supply of hot dogs, hamburgers, chips and soft drinks. Picnic-goers could then purchase other treats, like kettle corn and cotton candy, or T-shirts and other mementos from vendors set up on two sides of the church’s lawn. Entertainment and games claimed the other. From horseshoes to volleyball, the picnic included a little something for everyone.

The afternoon would close with a concert by a popular Christian recording artist. Most people would later make their way downtown for the city’s big fireworks display.

“New preacher giving away free food,” Gabriel said. “What’s not to like?”

Susan chuckled. “The hard times will come later, huh?”

“Like death and taxes. So, you said you wanted to speak with me about something.”

Enjoying the light moments with him, Susan found herself reluctant to end the easy companionship, but she had business to tend to, business that directly involved Reverend Dawson.

He was popular and bright. That’s why she didn’t understand why in all his outreach efforts to date, he hadn’t stopped by or inquired about Galilee.

“You’ve been here almost a year now,” she said.

Gabriel nodded. “Nine months.”

“You’ve done a lot in the community. I’ve seen your name on several boards and you’ve started a couple of outreach ministries.”

He glanced at her. “I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

Susan had the grace to smile. “But you’ve missed a big pocket of the community.”

They’d reached the edge of the entertainment area where the juggler on stilts tossed six wooden pins in the air. Susan spotted her girls, who had somehow managed to creep to the front of the semicircle.

“And what pocket is that?”

“Women in need.”

He looked at her then, wondering if he should read a dual message in her comment. “What, specifically, do you mean?”

“I’d like to show you our facility,” she said. “Why don’t you stop by the Galilee shelter and let me show you around?”

“You’re the director there, right?”

Susan nodded.

“I’d be glad to put it in my book,” he told her. “I’ll have Karen schedule it. Maybe I’ll stop by in a couple of months. What I’ve been trying to do first is get a feel for the larger community, some of the broader issues that have the biggest impact not only on members of Good Shepherd, but the people who live in the area that the church serves.”

Susan bristled at his implication that abused women didn’t rank very high on his priority or impact list.

That was the problem she had with him. Her goal today was to get him to commit to visiting the shelter. Once he saw for himself the work that was done there, she hoped he’d make a long-term commitment to the shelter’s mission.

On several occasions, her director of development had tried to get an appointment with him, but either his secretary always brushed Jessica off or her calls went unanswered. So, as director of the women’s shelter, Susan took matters in her own hands. She’d brought her girls to the picnic so they could have some fun, but her job today was to waylay the good reverend and make him see the error of his neglectful ways—at least where Galilee Women’s Shelter was concerned.

“Reverend Dawson, I think you’ll change your mind when you see what we’re doing at Galilee.”

“You’re not going to stop until I say yes, are you.”

“Now you’re getting the idea,” she said.

He smiled. “All right, then. I will come by.”

Susan wanted to dance a jig. With the newest pastor in town also supporting the effort, maybe something could be done about the problems plaguing the city—in particular, areas near Good Shepherd.

She knew how to close a deal, too. “How about tomorrow morning?”

Gabriel laughed. “I have appointments all day.”

She looked doubtful.

“Really. I do,” he said.

“Then what about—”

“How about Wednesday?” he suggested. “Ten o’clock?”

Susan’s smile for him was bright. She caught herself before she said It’s a date. “I’ll see you then.”

Neither Susan nor Gabriel knew how much attention their stroll across the lawn of Good Shepherd garnered among onlookers. Jessica in particular noticed as her daughter Amy dashed ahead to catch some of the juggling act. Jessica nudged her fiancé, Sam Vance.

“I told you they were seeing each other. Susan plays things so close to the vest.”

Sam looked in the direction she indicated. “There you go again, honey. Just because we’re about to tie the knot doesn’t mean everyone else is headed down the aisle, too. Knowing Susan, she’s probably trying to talk him into being on the shelter’s board of directors or giving a donation to Galilee. You are in the middle of a big fund-raising drive.”

Jessica considered that. “You could be right,” she conceded. “But I doubt it,” she muttered as she watched her pastor and her boss laugh together, sharing a bag of popcorn.

She eyed Sam as an idea began to form—a deliciously naughty idea. She’d have to work fast and get some help to pull it off, though. And she knew just who she could tap to make it happen.

Gabriel had big plans for the church he’d recently been called to pastor. Colorado Springs was a beautiful city with clean streets, fresh air and plenty of outdoor activities to keep people engaged in wholesome fun.

But since his arrival at Good Shepherd, a dark cloud had descended over the city. He’d been to three city council meetings as well as a citizen’s watch session in his own gated neighborhood. The one question on everyone’s minds was how to combat the effects of a crime and drug spree that seemed to have blanketed the city almost overnight.

Part of his mission was to create a better quality of life for his congregation. For Gabriel, spirituality was included in quality of life.

As he walked over to greet the recording artist who’d perform the afternoon concert, he thought about Susan Carter. If nothing else, she was persistent and dedicated. However, he seriously doubted that one little shelter could play a big role in revitalizing the city. He looked forward to seeing her again—even though he had no intention whatsoever of telling her why he’d really been ducking calls from her agency.

Her mission accomplished, Susan enjoyed the rest of the afternoon with the girls. As they headed across to the parking lot, she glanced down at the unusually quiet twins. One thing she’d definitely grown used to was their constant chatter. They talked about any—and everything—all the time. And the questions! Everything they saw, heard or even thought about came out in the form of questions. They kept Susan on her toes.

But now they walked in silence.

“All right,” she said. “What’s up? Didn’t you guys have a good time? You were singing along during the concert.”

“We had a good time,” Hannah said, her voice slow and quiet.

“Yeah,” Sarah agreed, equally as unenthusiastic.

“Then why the long faces and the silent treatment? I’m not used to that.”

The girls looked at each other, then paused.

Concerned now, Susan stopped and stooped so she was eye level with her girls. “Hannah? Sarah?”

“Mommy,” Sarah began. “You know how you’re always telling us—”

“—to look for the signs that somebody’s getting hurt?” Hannah finished.

Susan nodded. She’d be remiss as a mom and as the director of a women’s shelter if her own children didn’t know what to look out for. She didn’t want them growing up the way she did, then as an adult making the same kinds of bad choices or living in an abusive relationship.

The girls both bit their bottom lips, mirror images of each other. Susan tried to tamp down the panic she suddenly felt. If anyone had hurt her girls…

“Mommy?” Hannah’s voice trembled.

Susan gathered both girls in her arms. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” she told them. “I promise.”

Sarah was crying now. Seeing her sister cry made Hannah cry, too. Susan’s heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. She held them too tight, but their distress freaked her out.

“Tell me what happened, girls. Please.”

“It’s Jasmine,” Hannah said, choking back tears. Both girls clung to Susan as tightly as she held them.

Caught up in scenarios that ranged from someone inappropriately touching the girls to an all-out assault on one or both of them, Susan didn’t hear the name.

What if someone at the picnic had tried to kidnap them? “Shh,” she said, trying to calm herself as much as she did them. Few things rattled her twin dynamos, so this rated all the more frightening. “Tell Mommy what happened, okay?”

“It’s Jasmine,” Sarah repeated, pulling a long braid over her shoulder and sticking a purple bead in her mouth. “She’s over there.”

Susan turned in the direction that both girls pointed. “Jasmine? A classmate from school?”

The girls nodded.

Though still concerned, Susan wanted to weep in relief. She instead swallowed and took a deep, balancing breath. “What’s wrong with Jasmine?”

“She has bruises on her arm,” Hannah said.

“And she always says she just fell down,” Sarah added.

Susan studied the little girl who quietly stood next to a tall, thin woman. “Is that her mother?” She hadn’t recalled seeing the woman at any of the school’s PTA meetings or parent-teacher nights.

“Uh-huh.” The twins spoke and nodded in unison.

The woman was in her mid-thirties or maybe forties, tall, thin and tired-looking. Susan knew the look. She couldn’t very well go up and confront the woman or the girl. But she did take a long look at the mother. Sadness or maybe weariness—possibly wariness?—ringed her eyes. Susan’s gaze swept the area, looking for a possible threat to either the woman or the child.

“Do you ever talk to Jasmine’s mom?” she asked Hannah and Sarah.

“Sometimes. But she falls down a lot, too.”

Susan’s eyes narrowed. She searched for a companion, but both the woman and the girl seemed rooted where they stood. Possibly waiting for someone?

“Mommy, can you help her?”

“Yes,” Susan told her girls. “I’ll see if anything’s wrong and if it is, I’ll try to help them both. I promise.”