Read The Runaway Pastor's Wife Online

Authors: Diane Moody,Hannah Schmitt

Tags: #Spouses of Clergy, #Christian Fiction, #Family Life, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Runaway Wives, #Love Stories

The Runaway Pastor's Wife (25 page)

BOOK: The Runaway Pastor's Wife
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So when Harold Benson had a massive heart
attack, Christine was devastated. Michael became the shoulder she needed to cry
on, the friend she needed to lean on. They had been good friends for years.
After all, she was Annie’s best friend. And with Annie and all their friends off
in
Hawaii
, it
was only natural for him to take care of her at a time like this.

Take care of her . . .
at
least that’s how it began. Christine was falling apart, watching her father’s
life slip away. In a matter of days he was gone. And as she went through the
motions of the funeral and all its demands, Michael was there for her.

The night after the funeral, Christine asked him
to take her for a long drive out into the country. They iced down a few
six-packs in a cooler and took off as the sun began to set. They had no
destination. They drove until they were well into their second six-pack. With
the subsequent need for a bathroom, they pulled off the road near
Lake
Keystone
and
like any respectable college drunk, headed into the woods to Mother Nature’s
“restroom” under the stars. Michael went back for the cooler and an old quilt
he kept in the trunk of his Camaro. They walked down a moonlit path to a
deserted beach.

They laughed and they drank. They sang old
Beatles’ songs and they drank some more. When the cooler was empty and the
laughter died, Christine began to sob. Michael held her in his arms and let her
cry.

And in a moment of quite unexpected intimacy,
they were swept away by their passion.

Even now, all these years later, it still made
him feel uneasy. It wasn’t like they’d intended for it to happen. It just
happened. And in the days that followed, it happened again and again and again.
Did he love her? Maybe. In a different kind of way.

And Christine? For her it was perhaps nothing
more than a peculiar part of her grieving process. Michael had always known
that. He was sure she loved him in her own special way. But she was a free
spirit. The day before their friends were due back from
Hawaii
, she
told him good-bye and took off. She offered some lame excuse of a possible job
offer in
New York
, but Michael knew she was just making it
easier for everyone concerned. Maybe she was right.

Everyone knew he had planned to marry Annie.
After the draft, they would make plans and set a date for their wedding. Everyone,
but
everyone
expected Michael and Annie to get married. For four years,
they had been inseparable.

Until that summer. In four short weeks,
everything had changed. Before, his entire world had been consumed with two
things: baseball and Annie Franklin. Baseball was his life, and Annie was the
love of his life. She was beautiful and funny and smart and amazing. And he had
never even imagined his life without her.

But all that had changed. Maybe it was guilt.
Who knows? Maybe he knew he could never face Annie—those four weeks with
Christine hidden in his heart, buried forever like a burning secret. Or maybe
he’d realized he wasn’t ready to be tied down. He didn’t want to wake up one
morning and feel suffocated by the confines of marriage. After all, the scouts
all predicted he’d go in the top five rounds of the draft. He had a career to
think of. He’d be traveling constantly. This was no time to settle down. He had
to be free to pursue his life-long dream to play major league baseball. Right?

It would be hard, but he could do it. He’d make
a clean break with Annie as soon as possible. He’d try not to hurt her too
much. Maybe they could still be friends once she got over the blow.
Yeah,
Dean. In your dreams. You broke her heart and you know it.

Suddenly, the blaring air-horn of a tractor
trailer slapped Michael back to reality. He had crossed the middle line. He
jerked the steering wheel, throwing his car into a radical spin. The semi flew
past him with its deafening horn. By the time his brakes grabbed the snow-covered
road and stopped the car, he was facing the blinding lights of the oncoming
cars which had been following him a split-second before. He slammed his foot on
the accelerator and jerked the steering wheel again. His Escalade flew off the
road and into a deep snow drift.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five cars careened past
him before they vanished into the darkness. Michael laid his head against the
steering wheel.
When did it get dark? How long have I been driving in this
stupor?
He looked at the digital clock on the dash. He couldn’t even
remember driving for the last couple of hours.
You idiot! How could you be
so stupid!

And then it dawned on him. The muscle relaxers.

He didn’t remember how many he’d taken. He had
no clue where he was.

Without warning, his body was wracked with pain.
The initial shock of his blunder had worn off. Now his injuries reminded him
how seriously hurt he was. The abrupt maneuvering to escape what surely would
have been the death of him now pierced his shoulder and side. He was overcome
with dizziness and fatigue. In his mind, he relived the sight of those
headlights coming straight at him. That horn blaring down on him.

And again without warning, a severe nausea
erupted in his stomach. He pushed the car door open just in time to splatter
the pure white snow with the remnants of whatever was left in his stomach. He
heaved until nothing more was left. He wiped his mouth against the sleeve of
his good arm and tried to catch his breath. He climbed out of the SUV, careful
to avoid where he’d puked.

The physical regurgitation was nothing compared
to the rage that spewed from his soul. He cussed and cursed and screamed, his
fury echoing off the silent darkness around him. For a moment, he stopped. He
surveyed the position of his car in the bank of snow, the headlights casting
two eerie tunnels of light through the white mound. Then he burst back into his
uncontrollable frenzy of wrath, even more fiery than before. He damned everyone
and everything he could think of, then repeated his tirade all over again.

With his anger finally emptied, he sat down in
the snow and fell back against the soft, icy cold blanket beneath him. He
panted hard from his outburst, his breath forming huge puffs of fog that
swirled away into the night. He was wiped out, the bullet wound in his side
feeling like the white hot irons used to brand the cattle back in Texas.

“Oh God, please don’t let me die.”

Michael shook with raw fear as a brilliant light
suddenly engulfed him. He opened his eyes only to shut them again against the
glare of a bright wall of light.
Oh no . . .
“Oh God, no!
Please! I don’t want to die!”

“Hey! Are you okay, mister?”

Michael shielded his eyes against the lights. He
could make out the silhouette of someone against the headlights of a vehicle.
Relief swept over him as he tried to get up.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I lost control of my car and
ended up in this snow bank.” He was standing, wiping the snow off his wet
clothes.

“Son, it looks to me like you’re bleeding pretty
bad there. Do you want me to go call an ambulance?” The stranger’s face was
still hidden in the blinding light, but Michael felt comforted by the kind tone
of concern in his voice.

“Uh, no. No, that’s okay. It’s nothing serious.
But I’d appreciate it if you could help me pull my car back out of this ditch.”

“No problem. I’ve got a chain in the back of my
truck. Just take it easy and I’ll try to get it hooked up to your bumper.”

The stranger went about the task as if he’d done
it a thousand times. In no time at all, the Escalade was sitting back on the
side of the road apparently undamaged.

“Are you sure I can’t take you into town to see
the doctor? You’re bleeding an awful lot there, son.”

Michael tried in vain to conceal his
blood-soaked clothes. His sweats and jacket were soaked all the way through. He
rubbed his hands together to warm them. “No, I’ll be okay. I really appreciate
your help. Except—do you happen to know where Weber Creek is? I’m not even sure
I’m on the right road. Am I in
Colorado
?”

“You’re only about five miles east of Weber
Creek. I’ll lead you to the turn-off if you’d like?”

Michael hesitated. “Well—sure. Thanks. At this
point, that would be a big help. I really appreciate this. Can I pay you for—”

“No need. I wouldn’t think of it, son. Just pass
the favor on. That’s all I ask.”

CHAPTER 16

 

 

Seminole,
Florida

Jessica appeared at the door of his study
holding the phone against her chest. “Nana’s on the phone, Daddy. She wants to
talk to you. She’s kinda upset,” she whispered.

David took the phone from her, pressing the mute
button on the receiver. His eyes silently communicated with those of his mother
across the hall. She raised her eyebrows then turned her attention to her
granddaughter. “Jessie, honey, why don’t you come help me finish setting the
table. We’re just about ready to eat and I could use your help.” She took
Jessica’s eager hand and steered her toward the kitchen.

David closed the door to his study while
uttering a silent prayer to find the right words. He’d dreaded this call from
his mother-in-law. “Hello Darlene, how are you?”

“DAVID! What’s going on! Where’s Annie? Why
didn’t anyone TELL me she was leaving? Jessie just told me she’s gone on a
trip. WHAT trip? She didn’t tell ME she was going on a trip! That’s not like—”

“Whoa Darlene—hold on! Just calm down and let me
explain. Don’t get yourself all worked up, okay?”

“But David, why didn’t—”

“It’s all right. Really. Annie just needed some
time away. A little vacation. Some time to herself. I think she—”

“What do you MEAN she needed some time to
herself? Annie would never—”

David was fighting a losing battle with his
temper. “Darlene, you’ve got to stop talking so I can tell you! Okay? Can you
do that? Because there’s no way I can begin to explain as long as you keep
interrupting me.”

David heard a frustrated sigh through the phone
line. His mother-in-law detested any manner of correction directed toward her.
She dished out plenty of it, but clearly couldn’t take it in return. “Very
well. I’m listening,” she patronized.

“Apparently Annie has felt a tremendous burden
lately, and I think the continuous stress we’ve been living under just caught
up with her. The best thing for her now is to have a stress-free period of time
when she can work through some of this and—well, I suppose, get her bearings
back. The kids are fine. I’m fine. My mother is staying with us while she’s
away, so there’s no need to worry. I’m sure this is going to do Annie a world
of good. She’s never had an extended time away just for herself since we’ve
been married. I think you’d agree that sometimes we all need a chance to step
away, take a good deep breath, and regroup.”

David paused, searching for anything else he
ought to say. He hated this.

“May I speak now?” Darlene snapped.

“Of course.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. Annie is MY
child. I believe I know her better than anyone since I was the one who gave her
LIFE.” She addressed him as if he were five. “And if something was bothering MY
Annie, I can ASSURE you, I’d be the first to know.”

Oh Darlene, you have no idea. You are the
last
person Annie would ever go to with her problems. You live in a fantasy land,
believing you have the perfect mother/daughter relationship. Oh Lord, give me
the right words here. Help me be kind but truthful.

“Darlene,” he responded as graciously as he
could. “I’m sure you didn’t know about any of this only because you’ve been
away on your cruise. I’m sure Annie would have called you if you’d been in
town.”

Pause. “Oh.”

David could almost hear the wheels churning in
her mind as the realization slowly sunk in. Annie couldn’t possibly have
reached her.

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right. I forgot
about my cruise. But David, when do you expect her back? Where did she go? I
want her number. She isn’t answering her cell.”

“Darlene, she’s asked us to give her the freedom
she needs right now. She calls in, but we’re trying to give her all the space
we can. I promise when she calls tonight I’ll tell her you called.”

“David! WHERE IS
SHE?!”

Her tone startled him. He wasn’t used to being
yelled at, even by his crazy mother-in-law. But he wasn’t about to be drawn
into a fight. Not tonight. He paused, then answered softly, “She didn’t say.
Good-night, Darlene.” He placed the receiver gently back down on its console.

God, You are going to have to handle her for me.
I don’t know what else to do.

The door bell rang just as he stood up. “I’ll
get it!” Jeremy yelled. David hoped it was only one of the neighborhood
children asking Jeremy or Jessie to play. He started to sit back again in his
chair when someone knocked on the door to his study.

BOOK: The Runaway Pastor's Wife
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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