Light in the Storm. Margaret Daley
but it’s never easy when a parent abandons a child.”
“That’s why I would never abandon my brothers and sister to let some stranger raise them.”
“That was quite a task to take on by yourself at nineteen. You didn’t have any relatives to help you?”
“We’re a small family. My father had an uncle who tried to help some when he could, but he was old and set in his ways. Both of my parents were only children. My mother used to say that’s why she wanted a houseful of kids. I guess my father didn’t feel that way.” The intense pressure in her chest made each breath difficult. She drew in several deep gulps of air, but nothing seemed to relieve the constriction. She hadn’t thought about her father in a long time—most people knew it was a subject she didn’t discuss.
“I can see I’ve distressed you.” He took a step toward her, reaching to touch her arm in comfort.
She backed up against the refrigerator, feeling trapped by the kindness in his expression. “You would think I’d be over it after nineteen years.”
His arm fell to his side. “No, I don’t know if a child ever totally gets over a parent walking out on her. It’s hard enough on a child when one parent dies. Even though the parent doesn’t choose to die, the child still experiences abandonment.”
“Not just the child but the spouse, too.”
The air vibrated with suppressed tension, the focus of the conversation shifting.
For a few seconds a haunted look dimmed his dark eyes, then he managed to veil his expression by lowering his lashes. “Yes.”
Chapter Three
“You know, in here—” Samuel tapped the side of his head “—I know that my wife didn’t choose to leave us. But in here—” he splayed his hand over his heart “—it doesn’t make any difference. Pain is pain.”
Beth swallowed the tightness swelling in her throat. “I think Jane’s feeling the same emotions.”
“I know she is. She was very close to Ruth and took her death especially hard.”
But not as hard as you, Beth thought, seeing his anguish reflected in the depths of his eyes.
“Then we moved not long after that happened, and that was when I decided to resign from the army. Moving around was becoming too hard on my family, especially without their mother.”
“What made you become a chaplain in the army?”
“I wanted to serve my country and God. I thought I could do it by being an army chaplain.”
“But now you don’t think so?” She’d heard the doubt in his voice and wondered about it.
“I discovered you can’t serve two masters—at least, not me.” He turned away and walked to the stove to refill his mug.
The sight of his back, his shoulders stiff with tension, told Beth that topic of conversation was finished. She could respect that. There were a lot of things she wouldn’t discuss with others, and she and Samuel were practically strangers.
Even though the last thing she felt like doing at the moment was smiling, she did, needing to lighten the mood. “Tanya reminded me of something we’ll need to talk about soon.”
He threw her a glance over his shoulder, then slowly pivoted. “What?”
“I run the Sunday School, and since I’ll be leaving in the summer, we should discuss a replacement so I can train that person this spring.” She found if she voiced her plans out loud the reality of leaving Sweetwater became more real.
“Nothing like the present.”
“Here? Now?”
“Well, not exactly right this minute, but how about next week some time? Why don’t you come to Friday-night dinner at my house? Aunt Mae goes all out that night. For some reason she thinks we should celebrate the end of a work week. I don’t think she understands I do a lot of my work on the weekend. But it’s something she’s done for years and I didn’t have the heart to change it when she came to live with us.”
“I hate to intrude on a family evening.”
“Nonsense. If I entertain, it’s usually then.” Samuel sipped his cider, his gaze intent upon her.
The refrigerator still propped her up. Beth pushed away, surprised by the trembling in her legs—as though their conversation had affected her more than she cared to admit. “What time?”
“Six-thirty.”
“Fine.” She hoped she could stay awake long enough to hold an intelligent conversation. Friday nights were usually her crash night after a long week of teaching. She often would wake up around eleven, having fallen asleep in front of the television and having no idea what had been on the set earlier in the evening. “Speaking of celebrations, I think it’s time I threw my dart.”
“You really are going to decide where you go by throwing a dart?”
The incredulous tone of his voice made her laugh. “Yup.”
Beth walked through the dining room, encouraging everyone to have a seat in the living room. Her nine guests crowded into the small area, with Jesse sitting on the arm of the lounge chair that Nick occupied and Tanya on the floor next to the sofa.
Beth went into the foyer and retrieved from the closet a tagboard and one dart. “As you can see, this is a map of Central and South America. I’m planning a trip and tonight I’m deciding where. I’d ask someone to hold the board up, but I’m afraid I might be a bit wild with the dart, so instead I’ll position it on the rocking chair if Zoey doesn’t mind standing for a moment—unless you want to hold it.”
Her friend from school stopped rocking and leaped from the chair, horror on her face. “I’ll pass. I’ve seen you play sports.” To the group she added, “I would suggest everyone give her plenty of room. No telling where the dart will end up. I can remember the church softball game where she hit me and I wasn’t anywhere near where she intended to throw the ball.”
“Oh, yeah. You had a bruise on your leg for weeks after that,” Darcy said, scooting closer to Joshua on the couch so Zoey could sit next to her.
Beth positioned herself in front of the tagboard, then turned around to her guests. “Hence the warning.”
Several nearest her backed away. Beth squared off in front of the rocking chair, squeezed her eyes closed and tossed the dart. It clanged to the tile floor in the foyer.
“If you miss the map, does that mean you stay, Beth?” asked Paul Howard, an assistant principal at her school.
She started toward the dart. Samuel picked it up first and handed it to her. Their gazes touched for a long moment, humor deep in his eyes. She liked the way they crinkled at the corners. She liked their color—it reminded her of a piece of dark, rich chocolate that she loved to eat.
“No,” she murmured, suddenly aware of the silence in the room. “It only means I try again.”
Boswell and Paul moved back even farther. Half the room was clear for her next shot. Beth shook her head, closed her eyes and threw the dart without really giving it much thought, still rattled by the silent exchange a moment before with Samuel. It plunked into the tagboard. She eased one eye open and saw the dart in the middle of the map.
“Brazil.” Zoey came to stand beside her and stare at the map. “Guess you’d better get some Portuguese tapes instead of the Spanish ones.”
“The Amazon. How do you like heat and humidity?” Paul asked, stepping next to Zoey.
“Not to mention snakes and other unpleasant animals. Are you going to throw again?” Jesse flanked her on the other side.
With so much of South America being taken up by the