Dream a Little Dream (29 page)

“No. I’ll give it to Ethan.”

“When will that be?”

She shouldn’t have shown her eagerness because it gave Carol power over her, something she clearly liked. “I believe Monday is Ethan’s day off. I’ll bring it to the church office sometime Tuesday.”

She couldn’t stand to wait until Tuesday, and she began to protest only to have Gabe cut her off. “That’ll be just fine, Carol. No hurry. I’ll tell Ethan to expect you.”

He caught Rachel’s arm in a death grip and steered her into the crowd. “If you don’t back off, you’re never going to see that Bible.”

She looked back to make sure Edward was following. “I can’t stand that woman. She’s deliberately torturing me.”

“Another couple of days won’t make any difference. Let’s get something to eat.”

“Don’t you ever think about anything but your stomach?”

He slipped his thumb beneath the short sleeve of her monarch butterfly dress and stroked her upper arm. “Every once in a while other parts of my body have been known to grab my attention.”

Her skin broke out in goose bumps. At the same time, she found herself wishing he felt something more lasting toward her than sexual attraction. “Are you buying?”

He looked amused. “I’m buying.”

She turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. “Come on, Edward. We’re going to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You love watermelon. I’ll get you a piece.”

As they walked toward the food tents, Gabe heard the boy dragging his sneakers in the dirt. When he considered how much of Rachel’s meager paycheck had gone toward buying those sneakers, he wanted to tell the child to pick up his feet, but he knew he was being unreasonable, and he kept silent.

They headed toward the center of the field, where several whole pigs roasted on spits above a large pit of glowing coals. Rachel wrinkled her nose. “I think I’ll have corn on the cob instead.”

“I thought you country girls were immune to being sentimental about animals.”

“Not me. Besides, we raised soybeans.”

He’d never been much of a fan of pig roasts himself, so he didn’t give her a hard time. Before long, they were sitting at one end of a long picnic table with plates of buttered corn. He’d added a hot dog and coleslaw to his own meal in an attempt to get her to eat more, but she’d refused, and now he was stuck with food he didn’t want.

“You sure you wouldn’t like another hot dog, Edward? I haven’t touched this one.”

The boy shook his head and picked at the wedge of watermelon on his plate. Ever since they’d sat down, Gabe had watched him stealing glances at the next table where a man ate with his son, who looked to be around Edward’s age. Edward gazed over at them again, and Rachel noticed.

“Is that boy in day care with you, Edward? You seem to know him.”

“Uh-huh. His name is Kyle.” Edward looked down at his watermelon. “And my name’s Chip.”

Over the top of Edward’s head, Rachel gave Gabe an exasperated look. At the next table, the boy named Kyle and his father picked up their empty paper plates and disposed of them in one of the trash cans. Edward watched them carefully.

After the last paper cup had disappeared, the boy turned toward his father and raised his arms. His father smiled, swung him up, and set him over his shoulders.

An expression of such naked longing crossed Edward’s face that Gabe winced. It was a simple thing . . . A father carrying his son on his shoulders. But Edward was too heavy for Rachel to carry that way. Too heavy for a mother to carry on her shoulders, but not a father.

Pick me up, Daddy! Pick me up so I can see!

Gabe looked away.

Rachel had witnessed the entire episode, and he saw her painful reaction as she took in one more thing in her life that she couldn’t control. She opened her purse to distract herself. “Edward, I think you’re wearing more food than you’ve eaten. Let me clean you—”

Her hands grew still, then dipped inside and began to riffle through the contents. “Gabe, my wallet’s gone!”

“Let me see.” He took her purse and, looking inside, saw the orderly clutter of a pen, a grocery-store receipt, a folded wad of toilet paper, a small plastic action toy, and a tampon that was coming out of its wrapper. He could just guess how much she begrudged spending her precious money on tampons.

“Maybe you left it at home.”

“No! It was in my purse when I gave you that tissue to wipe your shoe.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” She looked stricken. “Do you remember when I fell against you? Someone bumped me hard. It must have happened then.”

“How much money did you have in your wallet?”

“Forty-three dollars. Everything I had.”

She looked so forsaken and bewildered that his heart turned over in his chest. He knew how strong she was, and he told himself she’d recover from this latest setback, but he also wondered how many times one human being could get knocked to her knees and keep climbing back up.

“Let me go check around over where it happened. Maybe it fell out of your purse when you were bumped and someone turned it in at one of the tables.”

He could see she didn’t believe that would happen. He didn’t believe it himself. Her luck wasn’t that good.

As they cleared their trash, Rachel tried to conceal how upset she was from Gabe. She desperately needed that forty-three dollars to make it through next week.

Edward lagged behind as they left the picnic tables. They had to pass the bake sale on their way, where Carol was still working, along with an older woman cheerfully dressed in red slacks and a short-sleeved blouse printed with red and yellow hibiscus. Rachel recognized her as the grandmother of Emily, the little girl with leukemia. Her heart sank as the woman spotted her.

“Mrs. Snopes!”

“What are you doing, Fran?” Carol frowned as the older woman shot out from behind the table and made her way to Rachel.

The woman’s wooden parrot earrings bobbed as she smiled at Rachel, then turned her head toward Carol. “I’ve asked Mrs. Snopes to go to my daughter’s house and pray over Emily.”

“How could you do that?” Carol cried. “She’s a charlatan.”

“That’s not true,” Fran chided gently. “You know how desperately we need prayers. Only a miracle can save Emily.”

“You won’t get a miracle from her!” Carol’s dark eyes bore into Rachel’s, and her sharp features twisted with consternation. “Do you have any idea how much this family has suffered? How could you raise their hopes like this?”

Rachel began to deny that she’d done any such thing, but Carol wasn’t finished. “How much are you charging them? I’ll bet you put a big price tag on your prayers.”

“I don’t have any prayers,” Rachel replied honestly. She took a deep breath and gazed directly at Emily’s grandmother. “I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’m no longer a believer.”

“As if you ever were,” Carol retorted.

But Fran merely smiled and regarded Rachel with deep compassion. “If you look into your heart, Mrs. Snopes, you’ll know that’s not true. Don’t turn your back on us. My own prayers tell me that you can help Emily.”

“But I can’t!”

“You won’t know until you’ve tried. Would you just go see her?”

“No. I won’t give you false hopes.”

“Pull out your checkbook, Fran,” Carol said. “She’ll change her mind.”

For a woman who was supposed to be filled with the love of God, Carol’s heart seemed to hold only bitterness. In Rachel’s years at the Temple, she had seen many Carols, deeply religious men and women who were so judgmental and unyielding that all the joy had been snuffed from them.

Rachel was a good biblical scholar, and she understood what had happened to people like Carol. In their theology, everyone was inherently wicked, and only by being constantly on guard against the forces of evil could there be any hope for eternal life. For those like Carol, belief became a source of unending anxiety.

She’d seen those like Fran at the Temple, too—people who shone with an inner light. It never occurred to the Frans of the world to look for wickedness in others. They were too busy dispensing love, compassion, and forgiveness.

Ironically, Dwayne had been frustrated by Christians like Fran. He believed they lacked vigilance in the fight against the devil, and he feared for their souls.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

Gabe stepped forward. “Ladies, you’ll have to excuse us, but we need to look for Rachel’s wallet. She lost it a little earlier.” He nodded at them and drew her away.

Rachel was grateful. She knew he didn’t understand what had happened, but, once again, he had sensed her distress and intervened.

“I didn’t realize you knew Fran Thayer,” he said as they passed the charcoal pit.

“Is that her last name? She didn’t tell me.”

“What’s going on?”

She explained.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to go see her granddaughter,” he said when she was done.

“It would be unconscionable. I’m not a hypocrite.”

For a moment she thought he would argue with her, but he didn’t. Instead, he gestured toward one of the tents. “It seems to me we were over there when you got bumped. Let me ask around.”

He returned a few minutes later, and even before he spoke, she knew the news wasn’t good. “Maybe somebody will turn it in to the police later,” he said to console her.

She forced a smile they both knew was false.

“Maybe.”

He brushed his knuckles gently down the side of her jaw. “Let’s go on back to the cottage. I think we’ve all had enough for today.”

She nodded, and the three of them set off.

As they moved away, Russ Scudder stepped out from behind the lemonade concession. He waited until they had disappeared then pulled Rachel’s wallet from inside the empty popcorn box he’d been carrying around and removed the money.

Forty-three dollars. Too bad there wasn’t more. He stared at the wrinkled bills, tossed the wallet into the nearest trash can, then wandered toward the table the Humane Society had set up.

Earlier, Carl Painter had been asking people for donations, but Russ ignored the container decorated with a picture of a sad-eyed dog. Instead, he slipped the forty-three dollars into the plastic cylinder that sat next to it, the one marked
Emily’s Fund
.

T
hat night,
Rachel read Edward
Stellaluna
for the hundredth time. The beautifully illustrated story dealt with a baby bat separated from his mother and raised by birds with sleeping and eating habits different from his own. When she was done with the book, Edward took Horse’s ear out of his mouth and looked up at her, his too-old eyes worried. “Stellaluna’s mommy got in a accident, and then they didn’t see each other for a long time.”

“But they found each other at the end.”

“I guess.”

She knew her answer hadn’t satisfied him. He had no father, no house, no extended family. He was just beginning to realize she was his only stability.

After she’d tucked him in, she went out to the kitchen and saw Gabe standing by the back door. He turned when he heard her, and she watched as his hand slid into his pocket. He withdrew several bills and gave them to her.

She counted out fifty dollars. “What’s this?”

“A bonus. You’ve done a lot of work that isn’t in your job description. It’s only fair.”

He was making up for the money that had been stolen from her purse and trying to save her pride at the same time. She looked down at the crisp bills and blinked. “Thanks,” she managed.

“I’m going outside for a while. I’ll be back soon.”

He didn’t invite her to go with him, and she didn’t ask. Moments like this reminded her of how much there was that separated them.

Later, as she was just starting to get ready for bed, she heard him return. She finished undressing, then slipped into his old work shirt. After she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth, she went out to the kitchen where she found him crouched by a cardboard box sitting near the stove.

She walked over to investigate and saw that the box held a heating pad and a green plastic strawberry container lined with tissue. Inside lay a bedraggled baby sparrow.

On Tuesday, with the drive-in opening only three days away, Rachel was beginning to think they’d never be ready on time. She was excited about showing off the Pride of Carolina to the community. Having fireworks on opening night had been her idea, and she was making Gabe put up a row of colorful plastic flags near the entrance.

Unfortunately, Gabe didn’t share her enthusiasm, and his lack of interest grew more apparent every day. At the same time, her affection for the old place grew. Looking at the fresh paint, sparkling new appliances, and weed-free lot gave her a feeling of accomplishment.

At three that afternoon, the snack-shop phone rang. She dropped the cloth she’d been using to wipe down the new popcorn machine and raced to answer it.

“I’ve got the Bible,” Kristy said. “Carol’s son just delivered it.”