Entertaining Angels (13 page)

“That’s okay.” Jesse pointed toward a man striding across the parking lot and heading for his car. “I’ll just hang out and talk to Pastor Craig.”

The sun glistened off the golden strands of the young minister’s hair, and Kristy was struck by his sturdy build and his all-American good looks. But she turned her head before anyone realized her gaze had lingered a bit too long on him.

She wasn’t ready to get involved with another guy. And while she planned to find someone decent the next time around, someone who would be a good father and husband, she knew better than to set her sights on the cream of the crop. To her, that’s exactly what a preacher was.

How was that for setting her sights over the top?

Even if she was open to dating a guy like him—and she certainly
wasn’t
—he’d never be interested in used goods.

Jesse reached for the doorknob. “Thanks a lot. And not just for the ride.”

“No problem. I’m glad I came by when I did.”

Jesse, who stood before the open passenger door, leaned his head back into the car. “Before I go, do you mind if I share a story with your son?”

Kristy had no idea what he was going to say, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt. “Sure, go ahead.”

Jesse dropped to one knee. “Once upon a time, there was a widowed king who had it all—land, gold, power. But the love
of his life was his daughter, a baby girl who was just a toddler. He spent every moment of his free time with her—until war was declared upon his kingdom.

“The king knew the only way his soldiers would win is if he rode with them, but that meant leaving his beloved daughter in the care of three others—a nursemaid, his highest ranking political advisor, and a priest who planned to build a new chapel in the kingdom.

“The nursemaid was an attractive woman, and he hoped that she would not only love and care for his child in his absence, but also teach her how to be a lady of the finest measure. The advisor was one of the wisest men in the kingdom, so the king instructed him to teach the girl all she would ever need to know, since she would one day take the throne.

“But the king wanted his daughter to be more than wise and beautiful, which is why he chose the priest. He hoped the holy man would guide her heart in all that was pure and just and true.”

Kristy glanced at Jason, saw him listening intently, his eyes wide with concentration. And she pondered the possible reasons Jesse had wanted to share this particular story.

To entertain her son as a repayment of her kindness?

Jesse clicked his tongue and slowly shook his head. “But unfortunately, the nurse was so pretty, she spent enormous amounts of time in front of her looking glass, admiring herself. And the advisor grew busy, running the kingdom in the king’s absence. The job was important and demanding, and he decided he couldn’t spare the time for one small child, when so many important men needed his attention.

“Even the priest got caught up building the chapel, using the daylight hours to construct the building and his nighttime hours working on sermons that would reach the heart of every person in the kingdom and fill the pews each Sunday. So the little girl was left to herself much of the time.”

Jesse glanced at Kristy—to check and see if she was listening to the fairy tale, she assumed. And she had been. Yet the
intensity in his gaze suggested there was far more to the story than its entertainment value.

A beat later, he resumed the tale. “It wouldn’t have been so bad, had the king returned when he’d hoped he would. But the war was long and brutal, and the king had to stay away from the palace for years on end. Still he believed—and trusted—that he’d left his daughter in the best of hands.”

“But he didn’t,” Jason said. “The people he left her with didn’t do their jobs.”

“You’re right. They were each given an assignment, but they failed the king. And before you know it, the child grew up. Time took a toll on the nurse, and her skin began to sag, her hair turned gray. Yet she focused even more on her appearance, bemoaning what she once had been. The advisor thrived on running the kingdom and forgot there’d ever been a real king. And the priest, who’d built a beautiful chapel and had amassed a large congregation, was amazed at all he’d accomplished in his life, and he soon grew busy counting the gold coins that poured into the offering box each week.”

“What happened to the girl?” Jason asked.

“She grew to believe that she was unimportant and had very little value.”

“That’s sad,” Jason said. “Nobody taught her the stuff they were supposed to.”

“That’s true, and for a while, she let others steal her sense of worth.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

“The girl didn’t know anything about fashion or how to fix her hair, but when she took a close look in the mirror, studying her features rather than admiring herself as the nursemaid had done, she realized she was pleasing to the eye. And even though she didn’t have an education, she’d learned something important already, just by growing up the way she did. She’d come to see that an overabundance of vanity, pride, and greed could twist a person’s soul and make them forget their true purpose in life.

“Then, as she began to search her heart, she became aware of something staggering, something eye-opening. Something she should have known all along and had nearly forgotten.”

“What was that?” Jason asked.

“That she was a princess, the child of a king, a young woman whose father loved her beyond measure. Yet for a while, she’d let others assign her value. And it wasn’t until she stood tall and demanded her place in the kingdom that she received all that was her due.” Jesse straightened and got to his feet, his hand still on the edge of the car door.

“That was kind of a weird Once-upon-a-time story,” Jason said. “It wasn’t like the other ones.”

“I think it is.” Jesse smiled and turned to Kristy. “You’ve got a lot going for you, Princess. Don’t ever sell yourself short.” Then he closed the door and turned toward the church, leaving her to wallow through all he’d said.

And all he hadn’t.

As she finally began to pull away from the curb, she glanced through the passenger window and saw Jesse heading toward Craig.

She wondered what kind of a story he had for the preacher.

Craig removed a box of paper plates and napkins from the trunk of his car and snapped the lid shut. He’d just started toward the soup kitchen when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned toward the sound and spotted Jesse coming his way.

The man still hadn’t shaved, and he wore the same dark jacket, even though today wasn’t as cool as it had been recently. It seemed safe to assume he didn’t have a closet in which to keep his clothes.

Craig noted that his smile appeared forced, but he returned it just the same. “Hey, Jesse. How’s it going?”

“Not too bad. How about you?”

“I’m settling in.” Craig nodded toward the modular building at the back of the property. “I was just heading to the soup kitchen. Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

Jesse fell in step beside Craig, a bit of a shuffle to his stride. “You working in the kitchen today?”

“I’m supposed to be off this afternoon, but I still want to check in with Dawn and make sure everything’s okay.”

“Folks sure appreciate having the opportunity to eat here,” Jesse said.

“The church saw a need and stepped up to the plate. Sometimes people just need a little assistance until they can get back on their feet again.”

“You know,” Jesse said, “speaking about those needing help, I talked to a guy the other day. And he’s trying to organize a group of disadvantaged kids into a baseball team.”

Craig transferred the box to his left arm so he could reach for the door knob. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So if you’re free next Saturday afternoon, you might stop by the ball fields and see what he’s doing with those kids. I bet he’d appreciate any help you could give him.”

Craig had never mentioned his baseball days to anyone in Fairbrook and didn’t intend to. “I’m not much of a coach.”

“Aren’t you?” Jesse asked, as he followed Craig into the soup kitchen.

“You mean because I’m a pastor? I guess, in a way, I am.” Yet, in all honesty, Craig felt more like a batboy. He slowed beside one row of tables. “Why don’t you have a seat. I’ll see if I can rustle up a lunch for you now. There’s no point in making you wait if the food is ready.”

“Thanks.” The shaggy, bearded man pulled out a chair and sat.

“I’ll be right back.” Craig took the box into the kitchen, where Dawn and a blonde teenager were packing up disposable lunch boxes. It was the same girl who’d eaten here yesterday.

“Hey,” he said, placing the cardboard box on the counter. “We’ve got some help today.”

“Isn’t that great?” Dawn smiled at the teen. “Thanks to Renee, we’ve got most of the work done already.”

“That’s good because we’ve got our first guest. I didn’t see any reason to make him hang around outside.” Especially with some of the locals complaining about the “bad element.” But Craig let that go unsaid while Renee was within earshot.

Dawn reached for one of the small boxes they’d packed with a sandwich, an apple, and a chocolate chip cookie. She tucked in the tabs, closing it, and handed it to Renee. “Would you mind taking this out to our guest?”

“Not at all.” Renee reached for one of the plastic bottles of water. “Should I take him one of these, too?”

“Yes, would you please?”

When the girl disappeared, Craig eased closer to Dawn. “How’d you manage to snag a helper?”

“She volunteered, so I put her to work. I think it makes her feel better about eating here.”

“I wish we had the money to actually hire her.” Craig peered through the open doorway and saw Renee talking to Jesse. “She took a couple of extra corn bread muffins home yesterday, so I have a feeling she’s not getting enough to eat.”

“That’s too bad. I’ll give her ten dollars for helping me today. And I’ll have her take an extra lunch home with her.”

“Good idea. And if she shows up tomorrow, I’ll chip in another ten.” Of course, Craig wouldn’t be able to keep that up for very long. Maybe he’d just have to help her find a real job, although he wasn’t sure what.

“How old do you think she is?” Dawn asked.

“It’s hard to say. My guess is about fifteen. Maybe even sixteen.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Dawn tucked a brown lock of hair behind her ear. “But she told me she’s twenty-one.”

“It’s possible I guess. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“I know, but I’m still skeptical.”

“Eighteen would make her an adult,” Craig said, “if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“You’re right. I guess there’s an old mother hen inside of me.”

Their voices stilled when Renee came back to the kitchen.

“Where’s Joe?” Craig asked Dawn. “I saw him in church this morning.”

“He ran Mrs. Rogers home. She’s not able to drive anymore.”

“How far away does she live?” Craig glanced at the clock on the side wall, thinking he should have been back by now, unless Mrs. Rogers lived in another city.

Dawn laughed. “He usually drives through McDonald’s and buys her a milkshake as a treat, but I have a feeling he’s been getting one for himself, too. That man loves sweets.”

“So you expect him soon?” Craig asked, hating to leave Dawn on her own.

“Any minute now.”

“Well then,” Craig said, “it looks as though you two have everything under control, so if you don’t mind, I’ll head back to the Delacourts’ house. Cassandra made Sunday dinner, and I hate to come dragging in late.”

“I’ve been to a few dinner parties at Cassandra’s house,” Dawn said. “She’s our resident Martha Stewart, so you’d better get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Craig nodded, then left the kitchen. On his way out, he stopped by the table where Jesse sat and patted the homeless man on the back, his fingers grazing the frayed shoulder seam of the old jacket. “I hope to see you again tomorrow.”

“I expect that you will.”

Craig left the building and went to his car. As he stuck the key in the driver’s door, he glanced across the street to the playground. It was fairly empty today. A family of four ate under the shade of a large Mulberry in the center of the park. And two boys played Frisbee with a dog on the grass. But his gaze was drawn to a woman and a child swinging side by side.

As he recognized the redhead, his hand movements froze, and he took a moment to watch Kristy Smith with her son.

For some reason, he found himself withdrawing the key and slipping it back in his pocket. There were a hundred reasons for him to walk over to the park and say hello to her—all of them church related.

First of all, she was the granddaughter of a parishioner. And secondly, as a pastor, it was his job to invite her to Sunday services and make sure that she felt comfortable attending.

She was also going to be the maid of honor in Shana Delacourt’s wedding, unless something blew sky-high, which he sensed was a possibility, albeit slight. And just in case he
was called upon to soothe ruffled feathers, it wouldn’t hurt to get to know her better.

So he strode across the street, studying her as he approached the playground.

She’d called herself a black sheep last Wednesday night. Yet, as he saw her swinging next to her little boy, carefree and laughing, her long red curls blowing in the light ocean breeze, she didn’t seem the least bit rebellious.

On the other hand, the word “responsible” came to mind. He suspected that a lot of people might have found it easier to place a bitter disabled woman in a convalescent hospital, yet Kristy had kept her at home for the past seven years.

As he crossed the lawn and toward the swings, he realized Kristy hadn’t been anything like he’d expected. Sure, she was tall and had red hair, just as the Delacourts had implied. But the oversized top and baggy jeans she wore made her look plain and not at all like the leggy, boy-crazy wild-child Cassandra had suggested she’d once been.

When he reached the edge of the sand, he smiled and said, “It’s a nice day to play in the sun.”