Читать книгу Autumn's Awakening - Irene Brand - Страница 14

“I‘m taking Dolly to Sunday school tomorrow morning,” Trina said on Saturday evening as they lingered at the supper table, sipping iced tea. “Want to come with us?”

“No, thanks,” Autumn said, “someone has to be on call, and I shouldn’t take my beeper to church.”

“Miss Olive goes to eight o’clock service at her church,” Trina continued, “and she says she’ll be home in time to answer the phone. If an emergency comes up, she can reach us by telephone at the church.”

“What church? Where are you going?”

“Community Chapel. It’s a new congregation on the east side of town. Sandy Simpson told me about it and invited us to attend. She said it’s mostly younger couples who’ve moved into the region without any family ties here. I think you should go.”

Autumn took her iced tea and sauntered out on the back porch and sat in a rocking chair. Trina followed and leaned against the porch railing.

“What’s bothering you, Autumn? You were animated and happy when we first got here. What’s wrong?”

“The same old thing that’s plagued me since you’ve known me. I wonder sometimes how you ever became my friend. You’re an upbeat person, always with an optimistic outlook on life. We’ve been here four days, and my parents haven’t made any overtures. And I’ve hoped that Nathan would telephone or stop by. He could have come in to pay his bill, but instead we got a check in the mail today for that vet call.”

“The Bible has a lot to say about forgiveness. Sometimes it’s the person who’s been wronged that has to make the first move.”

“I asked Nathan to forgive me, and he brushed my apology aside. And making the first move was what got me in wrong with Nathan and my parents before.”

“I know you think you’re the one who was wrong, but your parents are as much to blame as you are. They had no reason to disown you and forbid you to come home.”

“I disappointed them.”

“What children haven’t disappointed their parents in some way?” Trina argued. “Did you disappoint Nathan, too?”

“That’s a different matter. I pursued him when he tried to get me to stop. Right from the first, I think the attraction was mostly on my side,” Autumn reminisced. “I was never sure what he thought about me. So don’t blame Nathan. He didn’t promise me anything, I expected too much. It’s little wonder he’s avoiding me.”

Autumn drained the rest of her tea and stretched her long legs. “Yes, I’ll go to church with you in the morning,” she said. “As weak as my faith is, I need some spiritual nurturing.”

Trina laid an arm over Autumn’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I know it’s hard to give up a dream. I’ve prayed that you’d get to meet Nathan again, but perhaps that was the wrong thing to ask for.”

Autumn shook her head. “No. I’m thankful I know where he is and how he’s getting along. That’s important to me, no matter how our association turns out.”

Community Chapel stood near a new housing development. Autumn thought the congregation was mostly drawn from that area, for she didn’t recognize anyone as they walked into the crowded foyer of the metal building. An overweight, blondish, brown-eyed man came forward to greet them with a cordial smile and a warm handshake.

“I’m Elwood Donahue, pastor of the church. Welcome to our fellowship.” He asked for their names and Dolly’s age.

“Our classes are about to begin.” He called a child, and Autumn recognized the girl as the one who’d brought the wounded goat to the clinic. “Debbie, take Dolly to class with you, please. Autumn, if you and Trina will come with me, I’ll show you to the Berean classroom and introduce you to the teacher. Our worship service is at eleven,” he said as he walked beside them down the hallway.

“An interesting name for the class,” Trina said, chatting with the pastor in the easy way she had.

“The members organized the class for the specific purpose of searching the Scriptures to learn the way to abundant Christian living. We were fortunate to find a good teacher for the group.”

He paused at a door displaying a poster, on which a Scripture verse was printed in calligraphy.

“The purpose of the class is indicated in this biblical passage,” Elwood said, reading the words, “‘Now the Bereans were of more noble character than the Thessalonians, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.”’

“This should be an interesting class,” Trina said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Elwood motioned them into a well-lit room where several people stood talking. “Let me have your attention, folks,” he said, “we have guests this morning. Make them welcome.” He tapped a man on the shoulder.

“Nathan, Trina Jackson and Autumn Weaver have come to worship with us. They’ve taken over for Doc Wheeler while he’s abroad.” To Autumn and Trina, he explained, “Nathan will be your teacher.”

Nathan wheeled around, and a sudden hush fell over the room as he and Autumn locked eyes, tense in their concentration on each other. Autumn was suddenly dizzy, and she closed her eyes. She’d never fainted in her life. These unexpected meetings with Nathan were tearing her apart. What if she dropped at Nathan’s feet?

It hadn’t entered Nathan’s mind that he would see Autumn this morning. What had brought her to church today? To see him? His pulse quickened at the thought.

But how could he teach a Bible lesson with her blue eyes watching his every move? After such a long time, why did the Weavers still intimidate him?

A buzzer sounded in the hall, and Nathan shook his head as if to clear the fog away. “Won’t all of you be seated? It’s time to start. We’re pleased to have visitors this morning,” he added with an effort.

Nathan’s face flushed when he took his place behind the podium. His fingers fumbled through the pages of his Bible.

God, what can I do? Why are You subjecting me to this torture? I’m trying to serve You, to be a witness for You in this community. I can’t make a fool of myself before these people. Help me!

Keenly aware of Nathan’s agitation, and knowing she was the cause of it, Autumn muttered, “I’m going to leave.”

“No,” Trina whispered as she slid into a chair on the back row.

“Did you know Nathan attended this church?” Autumn demanded accusingly.

“No. No. I had no idea,” Trina protested. She clutched Autumn’s arm and pulled her into a chair. “If you leave, that would only make it worse. Tough it out.”

Autumn did as Trina commanded, but she couldn’t remember when she’d spent a more miserable hour. Her body was rigid, and she stared at her hands where veins bulged from a racing pulse. And Nathan was so uncomfortable her heart ached for him. She sensed that ordinarily he would be an effective teacher, but he hardly looked up as he read the text almost word by word from the lesson book, often faltering on the words.

Several people seated in front of her glanced at one another in amazement, affirming her belief that Nathan’s current behavior wasn’t natural. The lesson subject itself was enough to distress Nathan, as the Scriptural text was taken from the Model Prayer from the book of Luke. When he read the words, “Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us,” Nathan’s face paled even more. His voice was barely audible when he stumbled over the next words, “and lead us not into temptation.”

Perspiration drenched his face when he finally sat down on a chair behind the podium, and the president of the class stood up. Autumn recognized the woman as Sandy Simpson, the mother of the two children who owned Flossie, the pet goat.

“We need to make final plans for our picnic next Saturday afternoon,” Sandy stated. “Nathan has graciously invited us to picnic in the hickory nut grove on his farm. Burgers and buns will be provided from our class treasury, but it’s up to us to bring the rest of the food. Plan to arrive early and stay until evening. We’ll eat around half-past four.”

Sandy asked for a show of hands of those who planned to attend the picnic, suggested they should sign a sheet on the bulletin board indicating the food they’d contribute, then closed the session with a prayer. She made a beeline for Trina and Autumn as soon as she said, “Amen.”

“You must come to the picnic Saturday,” Sandy said. “That will give us an opportunity to get better acquainted.” Looking at Autumn, she said, “Families are invited, too, so you can bring your daughter.”

“Daughter?” Autumn looked from Sandy to Trina, wondering what the woman meant.

“Dolly is your daughter, isn’t she?”

“Of course not,” Autumn answered, more sharply than she should have.

“Forgive me. I was misinformed.”

“Dolly’s name is Rossini. She’s my niece,” Trina said.

“Oh, I see,” Sandy said, with a skeptical look at Autumn. “You’ll come to the picnic?”

Autumn didn’t answer, and Trina said, “We’ll try, if our work schedule isn’t too heavy. We’re finding out that we’ve taken up a time-consuming profession.”

Dolly joined them in the foyer and they went into the sanctuary together. Autumn looked keenly at the child, wondering who’d started the rumor that Dolly was her daughter. The gray-eyed girl with brown hair didn’t resemble the Weavers at all, but with a start, Autumn realized that Dolly’s features were similar to Nathan’s.

Just what I need, she thought morosely, to have such a story circulating. What had Nathan said that morning at the farm? “It took me months to convince people that you and I hadn’t been living together.”

Would Dolly’s resemblance to Nathan cause him any embarrassment?

During the informal service, Autumn momentarily forgot the miserable hour she’d spent in Nathan’s class. Elwood Donahue wasn’t a dynamic speaker, but his message on commitment was simple and easy to understand. Lacking a deep understanding of the Bible, Elwood’s straightforward explanation of the Scripture passage filled Autumn’s need to have the Gospel presented simply, and soothed her spirit temporarily.

Nathan chose a pew behind Autumn, and he was vividly conscious of her presence. Why wouldn’t he be, with her red head catching the lights from the windows? Had Autumn deliberately come to church to embarrass him? Was she still pursuing him as she’d done when she was a girl?

God, he thought during the pastoral prayer, why do You keep bringing us together? Has she changed from the willful, spoiled girl who almost ruined my life? Can I trust her again?

He’d resolved to avoid Autumn, but how could he when they attended the same church? Was it unchristian of him to keep thinking of the past? Was he the one who’d been wrong to leave without giving her the opportunity to explain? But after Autumn had run out of the horse barn eight years ago, her father said, “Autumn is going to marry Dr. Lowe. Can’t you have the decency to leave her alone? When I told you to leave, I meant leave this area. You’ll be nothing but a thorn in the flesh of our whole family if you stay here. There’s already a lot of gossip about you and Autumn seeing each other while I’ve been gone.”

Even though Autumn had protested that she’d never intended to marry Dr. Lowe, he’d wondered if she was telling the truth. But with Landon’s ultimatum, he had no choice except to leave. The Weavers had enough influence to ruin him in the community if they wanted to. When he’d left Greensboro, he supposed his brief association with Autumn was over. Now their paths had crossed again, Autumn looked as if she was unhappy. Had she really cared for him? Did she still care for him? How could he find out?