Beyond These Hills (35 page)

“And what about you? Have you found the right person in that young man from Virginia? Jimmy's told me about him.”

Laurel clasped her hands together in her lap. “I don't know how to answer that. There are a lot of things standing in our way right now. I thought I might be able to see things more clearly if I got away from home and had some time away from my family to think.”

Josie reached over and squeezed Laurel's arm. “All I want is for you and Jimmy to both be happy. I hope you can decide what that's going to be for you. I'm sure your folks have told you to pray about it, and I'll pray too.” She stretched and yawned. “Now I think I'll get ready for bed, too. Are you ready to come inside?”

“Not just yet. I think I'll sit out here for a while.”

“All right. See you in the morning.”

Laurel watched Josie enter the hotel, and then she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She wondered what Andrew was doing tonight. Had he helped Willie with the chores since she'd been gone, or had he stayed away as she told him to?

A tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn't wipe it away. She stood up, walked to the porch railing, and stared up at the stars. She'd been honest when she told Josie there were too many things standing in the way of happiness for her and Andrew. In her heart, though, she knew the real problem. The love they shared would never bring them happiness until they had a foundation to build their relationship on. She wanted what her parents had, and that was a marriage built on their shared belief in God.

Until Andrew accepted the need for God in his life, he would
never understand how important that was to her. And until then there was no hope they would ever be able to overcome the other differences between them.

The taxi pulled up in front of the stately white mansion that Andrew's great-grandfather had built almost a hundred years ago. Thankfully it had survived the Civil War and in time had been passed to his father. Another one of his father's plans for Andrew's life was for him and his family to inhabit the house one day, but Andrew had very little interest in living there again.

He paid the driver, climbed from the cab, and stared at the wide steps that led to a porch with six white columns across the front of the house. He'd lived here all his life until he left for college, and yet he felt like an arriving guest. He would much rather be in Cades Cove tonight with the Jacksons and the Martins. But he had come home on a mission, and the sooner he got on with it the better off he'd be.

Taking a deep breath, he climbed the steps. He hesitated before opening the door. Should he knock? No, that would be ridiculous. He turned the knob and stepped through the door into the large hallway entry of the house.

As usual, everything looked neat and in its place. He couldn't conceive of its being otherwise. Household staff members knew their jobs depended on keeping his father happy, and they worked hard every day to do so.

The stairway with the winding bannister he'd slid down as a boy stood halfway down the entry, and he stared up to the landing at the top of the stairs. From the entry he could see the closed door of his father's second floor office to the right of the top step. He shook his head and sighed.

He took a step toward the stairs, but before he reached them Mrs.
Oliver, the housekeeper, appeared from the direction of the kitchen. She gasped in surprise when she saw him and then smiled. “Mr. Andrew, welcome home. Your father didn't tell us you were coming.”

He smiled at the woman who'd been a fixture in their house ever since his mother's death. “I didn't tell him, Mrs. Oliver. I thought I would surprise him.” He glanced up the stairs. “I see his office door is closed. Is he in there?”

“Yes, sir. He went in right after dinner.”

“Then I'll go up and see him.”

She nodded. “Would you like something to eat? I'll tell the cook to fix you a tray, and I'll be glad to bring it to your room.”

He shook his head. “No, thanks. I had something to eat on the train.”

She reached out to take his suitcase. “Then I'll put your bag in your old room.”

“Not yet,” he said. “I have some things to say to my father first. After I get through, he may not want me to stay here tonight.” He set the bag down. “I'll come back downstairs and get it whatever way our conversation turns out.”

Her eyebrows pulled down across her nose, and she shook her head. “I know there have been some problems between you and your father, but he's really a good man. He's done a lot for the people in this district, and he loves you.”

“He has a strange way of showing it.”

Mrs. Oliver clasped her hands in front of her and took a step closer to him. “No matter how you feel about him, you need to remember he's your father and you need to honor him.”

Andrew's eyes grew wide. “Someone else told me that not long ago.” He tilted his head to one side and let his gaze drift over Mrs. Oliver's face. “Are you a Christian?”

She squared her shoulders and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“When did that happen?”

“About the time you went away to college. I can't believe I lived all those years without having God in my life. He's given me strength and the great peace to face every day no matter what happens.”

Andrew shook his head in amazement. “This is great news. I've come home to tell my father that I've become a Christian and that I've decided to stay in Tennessee instead of returning to Virginia to run for office.”

Her eyes lit up, and she reached out and squeezed his hand. “Oh, Mr. Andrew, that's wonderful. I'll pray for you while you're talking with your father.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Oliver. That's very comforting.” He glanced up the stairs and sighed. “Well, I guess there's no time like the present to get this over with.”

He mounted the first step and trudged up to the landing. He paused outside the door and knocked. From inside he heard his father's muffled voice. “Come in.” Andrew pushed the door open and walked into the room. His father didn't look up from the papers spread across his desk. “Yes, what is it, Mrs. Oliver?”

Andrew closed the door and took a deep breath. “It's not Mrs. Oliver, Father.”

The pen dropped from his father's hand and his body stiffened. He looked up with a startled expression on his face. “Andrew? What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk with you.”

A slow smile curled his lips and the congressman stood up from his chair. “So you finally decided to see things my way. It's good to have you home.”

He started to walk around the desk, but Andrew held up his hand to stop him. “Please don't get the wrong idea about why I'm here. I felt like we needed to do something to repair the damage done by our meeting in Gatlinburg, and I asked Mr. Eakin for a week's leave. I don't know if I'll need that long or not, but I wanted to see you.”

A small frown furrowed his father's forehead, and he motioned for Andrew to sit down. “This sounds serious.”

“No, I feel like I need to stand when I tell you this.”

A hint of anger clouded his father's eyes. “Tell me what? Don't waste my time; just get on with it.”

“All right. I came to tell you that there's been a big change in my life since I last saw you. I've accepted Christ into my life, and I'm trying to right some of the wrongs I did in the past. I want to ask you to forgive me for the angry words I spoke to you in Gatlinburg.”

“You've become a Christian?” The words were nearly a whisper.

“I have, and I've never been happier. But as I said, I want to make amends for some of the things I've said and done. I felt like I needed to start with you.”

A big smile flashed across his father's face. “Well, you know I never have put much stock in that religion stuff, but if it makes you happy, I'm all for it.”

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Father. I was afraid you might have some objections.”

“Why should I object? You just apologized and said you want to make amends. I'm pleased that you have. So when will you return home to begin your campaign?”

Andrew's mouth dropped open, and he stared at his father. “What campaign?”

His father shrugged. “I figured if you were making amends that meant you were finally going to marry Lucy and get on with your political career.”

“No, no. You misunderstood me. I came here to let you know that I love you, and I honor you as my father. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you run my life. I've turned that job over to God, and I expect His plans for me are going to be better than anything either of us could ever dream up. I only want to know that you understand and will support my decision.”

Andrew had seen his father angry many times, but he'd never
witnessed anything like the fury that crossed his face. “Support your decision to ruin your life? I wouldn't do that in a million years.” He raised his fist in the air and began to pace back and forth across the room. It reminded Andrew of watching him once on the House floor. Suddenly he stopped and glared at Andrew. “It's that girl, isn't it?”

“Laurel doesn't even know I'm here. In fact, I haven't had a chance to tell her about having become a Christian.”

“But she influenced you in this. She made you turn your back on the only family you have. I could tell the minute I saw her she was nothing more than a little…”

“Stop it!” Andrew yelled. “I won't let you talk about her like that. She's the kindest person I know, and she wants me to have a relationship with you.”

His father closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I'm afraid I have no desire to welcome her into our family. If you really love me and want to honor me as you say, then you'll forget all this foolishness about defying me and get on with the plans we've had for years.”

Andrew had known it would be difficult talking with his father, but he'd known it was the right thing to do. Now all he could do was turn the situation over to God.

“I will always love you, and I will always honor you as my father. But I must do what I think is right for me. I don't know where I'll work or even whom I'll marry at this point, but I know Lucy and politics have no place in my future. I hope someday you can accept my decision. Now I think I'd better go.”

His father raised his trembling index finger and pointed it at Andrew. “If you walk out of this house now, don't you ever bother coming back.”

Andrew's heart felt as if a knife had just sliced through it and left him mortally wounded. “Father, think about what you're saying. We're all that's left of our family. We need each other.”

“I don't need you if you're going to leave me. I made it fine after your brother and mother left, and I'll do the same when you're gone.”

Andrew shook his head. “You didn't make it fine after their deaths, Father, and neither did I. I needed you to put your arms around me and tell me you were here for me even if Mother and Winston were gone, but in your grief you tried to remake me into Winston. I'm not my brother. He would have loved politics because he was so much like you. I'm sorry, but I can't be him for you.”

“You're right. You're not like him at all. He didn't have a choice in leaving; you do. Don't make a mistake and walk out that door. I warn you I won't welcome you back through it.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. I want you to know that wherever I live, I will always welcome you to my home. Goodbye, Father.”

He opened the door, stepped into the hall, and closed the door behind him. At the top of the stairs he glanced again at his father's office, but after a moment descended the stairs and stopped beside Mrs. Oliver.

“How did it go?” she asked.

Andrew shook his head. “Not very well. He ordered me to leave and never come back.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Oh, Mr. Andrew, I'm so sorry.”

“So am I, Mrs. Oliver.” He glanced toward his father's office again. “Take care of him for me.”

“I will. You can count on me.”