The Runaway Pastor's Wife (36 page)

“Yeah . . .” He found the wooden
stool and slowly sat back down. “But kind of anxious. She said ‘Is that you,
Dr. Wilkins?’” He paused again, his thoughts obviously running a thousand
directions at once. “I wonder if—you don’t suppose she left town because she
was sick or something? What if she’s got—”

“No, no,” PJ interrupted. “Don’t you start
hopping to conclusions, Max.”

Megan sat down again. “PJ’s right. She wouldn’t
have left town if she was ill.

Dr. Wilkins could be anybody. Maybe he’s the one
who owns the place where she’s staying.”

Max blinked back to his present surroundings.
“Yeah. Maybe. At least I know where she is. Now I’ve just got to figure out how
to get there.”

Eagle’s Nest

“Hello?”

No response.

“Hello? Is that you, Dr. Wilkins?”

Click.

Doc’s warning immediately echoed through Annie’s
mind.
I’m still concerned that whatever trouble Mr. Dean has gotten himself 
into may follow him up this mountain.

Fear rushed through every fiber of her being.
Grabbing her crutch, she hurried back out to the great room.

“Who called?”

She reached for her quilts. “I don’t know. They
hung up.”

Her eyes met Michael’s.

Nothing more was said.

CHAPTER 23

Seminole,
Florida

“Why don’t you fly?” Megan suggested. “It would
take you at least three days to drive there from here, and that’s driving
straight through without stopping. No way.”

The unlikely trio continued their strategy. They
all agreed Max had to find his mother. Getting there was the problem.

“We talked about that,” Max said, looking at PJ.
Their older partner stood up again, hiking his pants above his waist and
sucking in his stomach. With a cocky shake of his head, he unfolded the plan.

“Max thought maybe he was gonna find him some
money and just hop on some plane. Well, I told him that’s not gonna work on
account two reasons. One, the minute his daddy realizes he’s gone, his daddy
gonna call up the police and the next thing you know, they gonna be waiting for
him at that airport in
Colorado
.” He punctuated his concern
with a nod of his head.

“Then, he gonna have to have himself a car and
nooo-body gonna rent a car to a sixteen-year-old boy. Not gonna happen.
Besides, the minute he pulls out that driver’s license, they gonna know he’s dat
boy who’s missin’ from
Florida
. Am I right?” PJ thrust out
his chest, hands on his hips.

Megan stifled her grin and turned to face Max.
“You know, he’s right. But what are you going to do?”

Before he could answer, PJ jumped in. “Well now,
Megan, I’m glad you asked. Come and see for yourself!” He grabbed her elbow and
led her to the back door. He threw it open then once outside, he rushed to
strike a pose. “Ta-daaaaa!” Waving a broad sweep of his hands, PJ presented the
getaway car: his very own 1968 Volkswagen bus.

Megan’s mouth fell open. Her face registered a
mix of disbelief and suppressed laughter. “Uh . . . PJ! This is
really . . .
nice?”
She turned to her boyfriend. “So
you’re planning to drive to
Colorado
. In a
hippie
bus?
”

Max laughed. “Isn’t it great?” He walked over to
slide open the side door. “And get a load of this—PJ fixed it up so I can sleep
in it and everything. If I get tired, I can just pull off at some rest stop or
truck stop and climb in back for a couple of hours. It’s got everything—a small
refrigerator, a mattress, pillow—”

Megan peeked into the van over Max’s shoulder.
“PJ, where on earth did you find this carpet?” Avocado shag lined the floor,
walls and inside roof of the vintage vehicle.

He beamed. “Nice, huh?”

“Oh, very! And I suppose it has a tape deck so
you can play some really groovy music?” She smiled at Max, trying desperate not
to laugh.

“Eight-track in mint condition!” PJ’s bushy
eyebrows danced again.

“And PJ has offered to send his lifetime
collection of polka music along for the ride. I mean, admit it, Megan. It just
doesn’t get any better than this.”

PJ snapped his fingers. “Oh! I’ll get that case
of tapes right now!” He rushed back into the kitchen.

Max hung his arm across Megan’s shoulder and
looked at her, the mischief playing across his face. Before she could speak,
they both burst into laughter.

“Max, are you really—”

“Yes, Megan, I’m really going to do it.” He
grinned with assurance. “And if it wouldn’t shock everyone in the whole western
hemisphere, not to mention the church
and
school, I’d take you along
with me.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “Sorry, no can do.”

“’Cause I know how you like ‘dos polkas, Miss
Megan,” Max teased in his horrible attempt at a Polish accent as he swept her
into a silly dance.

CHAPTER 24

Seminole,
Florida

Caroline sat quietly in the slip-covered chair,
her legs stretched out comfortably on the matching ottoman. Peering out the
windows of the quaint guest room, she could see the empty flowerbeds lining the
back yard privacy fence. Faded winter mulch seemed to beg for the kaleidoscope
of the impatiens, vinca, coneflowers, and zinnias Annie would plant with the
arrival of spring. Morning’s first light uncovered a thick blanket of grass the
color of winter wheat. The weathered beams of the jungle gym stood guard like a
silent fortress, its two lonesome swings tracing a lonely pattern in the early
morning breeze.

A weary sigh escaped her wondering thoughts. Her
hands rested on the Bible in her lap, palms pressed lightly against the worn
pages as if willing the answers she sought to absorb through her fingertips.
She’d exhausted her prayers. Now only the silent language deep in her soul
could communicate the cries of her heart. She knew nothing else to do at this
point. It was all in God’s hands. Caroline rested her head back against the
soft chair and closed her eyes. The long hours had eclipsed the night. It was
time to face another day.

A quiet knock on her bedroom door interrupted
her thoughts. “Come in.”

A sleepy-eyed vision of pink flannel and soft
curls padded across the room and into her lap. Jessie clutched the form of her
stuffed kangaroo and burrowed into her grandmother’s warm embrace. Caroline
pulled the cream-colored afghan to cover them both. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Uh-hum.”

“What’s my beautiful granddaughter doing up so
early this morning?”

Jessie yawned. “I don’t know. I just woke up.
Didn’t want to go in Mommy and Daddy’s room so I came in here.”

“Now, why wouldn’t you want to go in your mommy
and daddy’s room?”

Jessie shrugged.

Caroline glanced down at the cherubic
countenance. She hugged her granddaughter tighter and took a deep breath.

They sat in silence. Finally, Jessie squirmed a
little then asked, “Where’s Max?”

“What do you mean, honey?”

“I walked by his room and his door was open just
a little bit and I peeked inside and he’s not in there.”

Caroline didn’t like the sick feeling washing
over her, but swallowed her angst. “Jessie, let’s you and I go check it out and
see what he’s up to, okay?”

The first thing to catch Caroline’s eye was the
framed photograph of Megan and Max noticeably missing from his bedside table.
She hurried over to his closet, throwing open the louvered doors. Her eyes flew
to the top shelf above his rack of clothes—his Nike duffle bag noticeably
missing. Max used it whenever he traveled.

“What’s the matter, Gran?” Jessie grasped her
Caroline’s hand. “Why did you moan like that?”

Caroline faced her. “Oh sweetie, I’m afraid your
brother has taken off. And I have a feeling I know where he’s gone.”

Jessie started to whimper as she clung to
Caroline’s waist.

“Shhh. Jessie, I’m right here and I’m not going
to leave you.” She grabbed her granddaughter’s hand and held it tight. “Let’s
find out what this is all about.” They peeked in Jeremy’s room, relieved to
find him snoring softly. They listened at David’s door and could hear a much
louder version of the same snore. A sad smile played across Caroline’s lips.

 They slowly descended the stairs together in
silence. The house seemed unusually quiet, almost reverent somehow, as they
made their way to the kitchen. Snickers waited eagerly at the back door until
Jessie let her out. Caroline noticed the crocodile tears still brimming on her
granddaughter’s eyes as she looked back toward her.

Caroline’s heart ached as she looked around the
room hoping to find a note or some indication of Max’s whereabouts. Nothing was
out of place, nor was there any sign of a note. Heaving another sigh, Caroline
searched her heart for answers.
Now what? How am I going to tell David? Was
it really just yesterday he lost it over that headline?

Headline? Oh Lord, please don’t let there be
another headline this morning.
Stealing a look out the
kitchen window, Caroline grimaced at the vacant spot where Max always parked
his car. “Jessie, why don’t you pour us both a nice glass of orange juice? I’m
going out to get the paper, then I’ll come back and fix us some breakfast. How
does that sound, honey?”

Damp eyes the size of saucers stared at her
beneath a crinkled brow. Caroline headed for the front door. Opening it, she
felt Jessie’s presence behind her like a shadow.

“Don’t leave me, Gran,” Jessie warbled.

She dropped to her knees, scooping Jessie into
her arms. They hugged for several moments, Caroline breathing in the sweet
fragrance of her granddaughter’s curls. She pulled back and with her index
finger, lifted Jessie’s chin so they could look into each other’s eyes.

“Jessie, you can stick to me like super glue if
that’ll make you feel better. C’mon. Let’s get the paper and hurry back in
before the wind blows up our nightgowns!” At long last, she heard a tiny giggle
escape as they dashed outside. Once back inside with the door safely shut, she
grasped Jessie’s hand and led her toward the kitchen. Heavy, slow steps
descended the stairs behind them. She swallowed and uttered an unspoken prayer.

“Mom?”

The husky tone of her son’s voice gripped her,
but she fought the threatening wave of emotion. “Yes, dear? We’re out here in
the kitchen.”

David looked awful. He had aged a hundred years
in his mother’s eyes. Appearing at the kitchen door, the dark circles under his
eyes testified to another restless night.

“Jessie and I are going to have some breakfast.
Would you like to join us?” she asked in a voice a little too cheerful.

“Sure. Thanks,” he mumbled, sitting down at the
table. “Did I miss Annie’s call last night?”

Caroline busied herself gathering the
ingredients for pancakes. “No, honey, I’m afraid she didn’t call.”

David looked at his mother. “Do you realize it’s
been
three days
now since she called?”

“Daddy, is Mommy all right?” Jessie interrupted,
her voice hushed with apprehension. “You said she was just away on a little
vacation.” Her innocent eyes pleaded for truth.

Caroline watched them as she whisked the pancake
batter. David took a long, deep breath and rubbed his eyes. His face still
buried in his hands, he answered softly. “Pumpkin, she really is on a vacation
like I told you. She’s gone away to rest and think and pray, which is something
we could all use about now.” He looked up at his daughter’s worried
countenance. “The only thing is, she didn’t tell us where she went.”

They could see the words slowly drifting through
Jessie’s thoughts. Her eyebrows drew together in two miniature creases. “You
mean she’s lost and you can’t find her?”