Beyond These Hills (7 page)

“Andrew?”

“Laurel.” His tongue felt paralyzed. No other words came to mind.

She frowned and tilted her head to one side. “What are you doing here?”

He pulled his hat off and held it in front of him with both hands. “I…I c-came to church.”

She shook her head. “No, I mean what brings you to
our
church. Are you visiting someone in the Cove?”

He searched his mind for a reply, but his heart was thumping so hard he couldn't think straight. “I'm on my way to the CCC camp.”

His skin warmed at the smile she directed at him. “Oh, I see. Some of the men from the camp come to services every once in a while. They're not here today, but we're glad to have you. I had come outside after Sunday school to get a drink of water at the well and was on my way back inside. I'll be glad to show you in and introduce you to my family.”

His fingers curled around the brim of his hat. “Thank you, Laurel. I'd like that.”

She moved past him, and his pulse pounded at the scent of lavender. Without speaking he followed her up the steps and into the church. He hung his hat on a rack just inside the door and followed her into the small sanctuary. One glance at the congregation told him he'd been right about attendance today. There couldn't be more than twenty people sitting in the pews. Two men stood in deep conversation about halfway down the aisle, and Laurel led him toward them.

The white-haired older man smiled as they approached. The younger of the two glanced from Laurel to Andrew, a wary expression on his face. They stopped in front of them, and Laurel smiled. “We have a visitor today. This is Andrew…” Suddenly she turned to him, an embarrassed grin on her lips. “I'm sorry. I don't know your last name.”

He swallowed before he spoke. “It's Brady.”

She turned back to the men. “Andrew Brady. He's on his way to the CCC camp.” She pointed first to the white-headed man. “This is my grandfather, Simon Martin. He's the preacher here.” Then she motioned toward the other man, “And this is my father, Matthew Jackson.”

Her father? Her grandfather? Andrew opened his mouth, but all
he could do was gasp. He took a deep breath. “Then your name is Laurel Jackson?”

Her forehead wrinkled, and she nodded. “That's right.” Her frown dissolved into a smile, and she laughed. “Oh, of course. I never told you my last name either.” She glanced back at her father. “I met Andrew yesterday at Mr. Bryan's store, but we only exchanged first names.”

Her grandfather smiled and reached out to shake hands. “Welcome to our church, Andrew. We're always glad to have men from the CCC camp worship with us.”

Andrew's face grew warm as he shook the pastor's hand. “Thank you, sir.”

Laurel's father stretched out his hand. “I'm Matthew Jackson. Laurel didn't tell me she met anybody yesterday.”

Andrew swallowed before he spoke. “I helped her get some crates out of the back of a truck and inside a store.” He turned back to Laurel. “Afterward I wondered what your name was, but I remembered the name stamped on the crates. Mountain Laurel Pottery.”

Mr. Jackson nodded. “That's my wife's pottery. She sells some of it at Mr. Bryan's store.”

“I must say it's some of the most beautiful work I've ever seen. I promised myself I'd look up the studio before I left the mountains. I had no idea I'd find out about it today.”

Laurel laughed and pointed to a woman who was entering the sanctuary from a room at the front of the church. “That's my mother coming in now. She's the potter. You'll have to tell her. I believe you described her work as exquisite.”

Andrew's face flushed and he looked down at his feet. “Did I?”

From the front of the church an organ began to play a quiet tune, and Reverend Martin smiled. “That's my wife at the organ. She's giving me a signal that it's time for services. Why don't you take a seat, Andrew? I'd better get things underway.”

“Thank you, sir. I will.”

He stepped toward the pew on his left, but Laurel shook her head. “Don't sit back here by yourself. Come up front and sit with my family and me.”

Her father and mother stood beside a pew at the front of the church, and her father motioned for Laurel to come. Two young boys had already slid into the pew and were staring over their shoulders at him. He shook his head. “I don't want to intrude.”

She laughed, and the sound stirred his blood like nothing ever had before. “You aren't intruding. We'd love to have you sit with us.”

He hesitated only a moment. “All right.”

“Then follow me.”

Andrew didn't look to the right or left at the congregation as he walked behind Laurel to the pew. She scooted in next to one of the boys, and he followed right behind. A few seconds later he found himself seated with Laurel on his left side and her mother on his right. He turned toward her mother. “Mrs. Jackson, my name is Andrew Brady. Laurel insisted I sit with your family.”

“We're glad to have you visiting with us today. My husband tells me you're on your way to join the CCC camp.”

Andrew's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Had he misled Laurel's family when he'd been introduced? He certainly hadn't meant to, but as he thought back over their conversation, he saw how they had gotten the wrong idea.

“Actually I'm on my way out there…”

“Everyone take out your hymnals and turn to number fourteen.” Reverend Martin's loud voice drowned out the rest of his explanation to Mrs. Jackson. He'd have to set them all straight after services.

Laurel opened a hymnal and held it out for him to share. He took hold of one side of the book and looked down at the words. He'd never heard this song about standing on the stormy banks of what he supposed was a river. The few worshippers sang the song with so
much enthusiasm that by the third verse he was singing right along with them.

When they'd finished singing, Laurel's arm brushed against his. His body gave an involuntary jerk, and he darted a glance at Mrs. Jackson to see if she had noticed. She didn't look his way, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He started to ease down on the pew, but someone in the congregation called out another number. Before Laurel could find the page, her grandmother had played an introduction and the voices were raised again in song.

By the time they'd sung the fourth song, he was really enjoying himself and was sorry when Reverend Martin asked them to be seated. As they settled onto the pews, Reverend Martin stepped behind the pulpit. “Let us pray.”

Andrew bowed his head as the pastor began to pray. “Lord, we come today thanking You for this beautiful day in our valley. We see the sun on our mountains, the wildflowers blooming after the long winter, and the greenery of the trees that dot the mountainsides and the forests in this paradise where You've placed us. We pray that You'll make us ever mindful of how You've provided for us and those before us in this remote region. We know we face dark days ahead, Father, but we know You're with us. Help us to remember Your blessings that have made life so good here and help us not to dwell on our problems. We know You've told us You'll be with us anywhere we go. Now be with us as we look to Your Word today for the guidance we need in our lives. Amen.”

Several muffled
amens
rose across the church, but Andrew didn't look around to identify where they'd come from. The sentiments in Reverend Martin's prayer were those of everybody gathered here. For the first time it hit him how devastating it would be to be uprooted from the only home one had ever known and move somewhere else. And he was the messenger that the end was coming. Would the
people hate him when they discovered his reason for being here? He glanced at Laurel, and she smiled. Would she when she knew why he was really in Cades Cove?

He pushed the thought from his mind and tried to concentrate on Reverend Martin's sermon, but he found it impossible. All he could think about was the young woman beside him and how right it felt to be sitting in church with her on this beautiful Sunday morning. From time to time he caught a few words of the pastor's sermon, and he picked out words and phrases like
thirty pieces of silver, Judas
, and
betrayal
.

Andrew might not have gone to church much in his life, but he'd heard the story of Judas in chapel at school. He remembered how Judas, one of Jesus's disciples, had betrayed Him for money. The similarity to his situation didn't go unnoticed. The thought of his true purpose—to gain the land of the very people who had welcomed him and asked him to sit with them in church—troubled him. Would they equate him to Judas when they found out his reason for being in the Cove?

The longer the sermon lasted the more Andrew squirmed in his seat. The air became stuffy and perspiration ran down his face. He put his finger inside the collar of his shirt and pulled it away from his neck where it kept sticking to the skin. It seemed strange that no one else in the church appeared to be suffering from the heat like he was. He wished the preacher would quit so he could get out of there.

After what seemed an eternity the congregation was dismissed. His hope of escaping to the aisle and exiting the church was delayed, however, when he found himself trapped in the pew between Laurel and her mother. He felt a tug on his sleeve, and he looked around at Laurel.

“I want you to meet my grandmother,” she said.

The pastor's wife stood in the pew in front of them. She smiled, and he was struck by the sincere friendliness that sparkled in her blue
eyes. “Hello, Mr. Brady. I'm Anna Martin. We're so glad you came to our church today.”

At that moment her husband joined her and stuck out his hand. “Let me echo my wife's words. I hope you'll come again, Andrew.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw that Mrs. Jackson had moved out into the aisle. On the other side Laurel was turned away talking to an older woman. He inched toward the end of the pew in hopes of escaping, but the Martins stepped around the end of their pew and blocked his exit.

“I'll make a point to return to your church. I enjoyed the service.”

Mrs. Martin smiled. “I know you enjoyed the hymns. I could hear you singing even over the music from the organ. I love to hear a man sing with such spirit. It made me happy to be in the Lord's house today.”

He hesitated before responding. No one had ever complimented his singing before. In fact most of his friends at school had made fun of his off-key voice every time he tried to sing. But he sensed that Mrs. Martin had indeed meant what she said, and it made him smile.

“Thank you, Mrs. Martin. I'm glad you noticed how much I enjoyed singing with the congregation. Maybe it was the way you played the hymns. How long have you played the organ at this church?”

Her husband put his arm around her waist, and she patted his hand. “I began playing when I first came to this valley in 1894, and I've played ever since.”

Andrew glanced back at Laurel, but she was still in deep conversation with the woman. “I suppose I should be going now.” He held out his hand. “It was good meeting you. You have a wonderful family.”

Reverend Martin grasped his hand. “No need for you to rush off. We're having our daughter's family for dinner today, and we'd like for you to join us.”

Andrew shook his head. “Oh, I couldn't do that. I'll come some other time when you've invited me.”

Mrs. Martin laughed. “But we've invited you today. I always cook enough extra for special guests. Besides, we want you to come. You need to meet Granny, our ninety-one-year-old second mother. When someone new enters her valley, she thinks she has to question them and find out everything about them.”

Andrew's shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. “Reverend Martin, Mrs. Martin, the truth is you may not want to have me in your home when you find out why I'm really in the Cove.”

Reverend Martin frowned and glanced at his wife. “But I thought Laurel said you were joining the CCC camp.”

Andrew swallowed the bile in his throat. He really liked these people and he didn't want them to hate him. He especially didn't want Laurel to hate him, but they probably would after he revealed his real purpose to them. He took a deep breath.

“Laurel misunderstood me. I told her I was on my way to the CCC camp. That's true because I'm going to stay there while I'm in Cades Cove. But the truth is that I work for the National Park Service in Washington. I'm on special assignment here.”

The pastor's eyes darkened, and he frowned. “What kind of special assignment?”

“I'm here to convince the holdouts in the Cove to end their court cases and sell their land to the government so the park can be completed. Your family was one of the first I intended to see.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Reverend Martin nodded. “Was that your reason for coming to church here today?”

Andrew found it difficult to meet the preacher's steady gaze. “Yes, sir. I only wanted to get to know you. I didn't realize I'd already had my first introduction with Laurel yesterday. She's a very nice young woman. I'd like to get to know her and all of you much better, but I'll understand if you don't want that. No matter what my reasons
for coming today were, though, I really enjoyed the service. Now I'd better leave, but I will be by your house to talk to you about selling.”