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 (38 page)

BOOK: The Runaway Pastor's Wife
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“Well?” Bob asked again, sliding Doc’s coffee
mug gently across the counter.

Doc wasn’t used to keeping secrets, especially
from his two best friends. But this time he had no choice. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll
be all right.” He wrapped his hands around the warm mug. “She seems to be
pretty resourceful. And that ankle should be improving right along. I expect
she’ll do what has to be done.”

“Well, at least she can still use the phone,”
Bob added, following Doc to the fireplace.

“Who can still use the phone? Last I checked the
phones were down,” Mary Jean hollered as she made her way out of the storeroom.
“Oh hi, George. Didn’t hear you come in. Didn’t you know the phones were down?”

“No, MJ. But I was afraid of that.” Doc eased
into one of the rocking chairs. “That changes everything.”

Mary Jean sat down on the hearth, pulling her
sweater tighter around her. “What do you mean by that? Are you talking about
Annie?”

Doc nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the blaze.

“But I thought you just said she could take care
of herself,” Bob countered.

“Well, of course she can take care of herself,
Bob,” Mary Jean argued. “But being cut off from the entire human race in this
kind of a storm? And her, not being used to this kind of weather? Land sakes,
I’ve been in these mountains all my life and I still say there’s nothing
lonelier than having the phones go down on you. Poor thing, she’s probably
scared to death up there. Surely there’s something we can do?” She looked back
and forth between the men.

Doc Wilkins stared at the steam coming from his
coffee mug.
You’re so right, Mary Jean,
he thought.
I’m quite certain
Annie is scared to death by now, but her fears have little to do with the
blizzard outside her window

 

 

Eagle’s Nest

“Hey!” He hated this. He was totally incapable
of doing anything for himself. He despised the helplessness.

“Annie?”

The glow of the candle preceded her as she
shuffled around the corner. “Michael, what is it? What’s wrong?” She stood over
him, alarm etched on her face. “Are you in pain?”

He huffed. “No, I’m not in pain. Nothing’s wrong.
Except that I need to, uh . . . I mean how I am supposed
to—I need to go to the bathroom, okay
?!”

“Oh!” A hint of a smile crossed her lips. “I
wondered when that would hit you. You’ve been holding your liquids a long time.
Course, you always did have a huge bladder. You could drink like a fish all
night and never once have to go. I could never figure out how you did that.”

“Strong will.”

“Oh sure. But now you’re embarrassed about this,
are you? Big guy like you? Humiliated because you need a little help to go
potty?”

“Can we cut the jokes here? I wouldn’t have
asked if I didn’t need help.” He threw back the quilts.

“I don’t know, Michael. I rather like having you
helpless. Who’s the crybaby now, huh? Besides, it keeps you humble,” she
continued, helping him to his feet. “Also keeps you completely at my mercy. Now
there’s a switch,” she added dryly.

“Actually, come to think of it, you’re right.”
The effort of walking strained his voice.

“Right about what?”

“About my being embarrassed. Why should I be
embarrassed? After all, it’s not like we didn’t live together all those years
or anything,” he toyed, giving her the slightest hug his bad arm could muster.

Annie jerked to face him, their noses mere
inches apart. Her eyes narrowed.

“What? What did I say?”

Just as quickly, she looked away. “That’s all
history and hardly relevant at this point in time.”

They continued their slow journey to the
bathroom. Michael enjoyed the ability to make her squirm. “History, maybe, but
all history is relevant if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“Fine. But the fact remains that you and I were
once—”

“I know what we were, okay? Can we just skip
this stroll down memory lane?” They reached the bathroom. “Why don’t you
just . . . just do what you need to do and let’s get on
with it.”

Once he was situated, Annie pulled the door and
gave him privacy. He could still see her through the crack in the door. She
folded her arms across her chest, leaning against the door frame.

“Fact is, those were some of the happiest years
of my life.”

“Enough, Michael. I don’t want to hear any more.
I’m a married woman, thank you very much. I have three kids, and besides that,
I’m a pastor’s wife.”

“A
pastor’s
wife?” He laughed, rolling
out several lengths of toilet paper. “Well now, that’s quite a switch, isn’t
it? Actually, I think I’d heard about that somewhere along the line, but I
didn’t really believe it. Annie Franklin? A preacher’s wife?
My
Annie?
The girl who partied with me, danced with me—who
lived
with me?” He
watched her shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“I’m not ‘your Annie’ anymore, in case you’ve
forgotten. That was a long time ago. I’m a different person now, though I’d
hardly expect you to have a clue what it means to change your life for the
better. If you’ll recall,
you
were the one who walked out on me all
those years ago. Without so much as a word of explanation, you just left.” Her
voice cracked.

Michael tried to think of something to say. For
once in his life, he was speechless.

“Oh for heaven’s sake! Why are we even talking
about this,” she mumbled, limping out of sight, though he could still hear her.
“God, why him? Why now? Wasn’t it all screwed up enough?”

He listened to her quiet pleas, certain she had
no idea he could hear. He silently cursed himself for upsetting her.

“Uh, Annie?”

Silence.

“I could use a little help in here.”

She groaned in protest. He could hear her
unsteady clomping against the hard wood floor. He could also hear the words she
muttered under her breath. “Nurse Nancy to the skeleton in my closet. Like I
needed this?”

 

 

Houston
,
Texas

“Those imbeciles! It’s been three days!”

Elliot slammed down his phone and dropped back
into his chair. His heart pounded in his chest, the anger rising to a boil.

He knew what they’d done. Gus and Marcus had
lost Michael’s trail. And rather than admit their failure, they’d pulled the
batteries out of their cell phone.
I was a fool to trust them to do
something this important. What was I thinking!

He stood up and walked over to the bank of
windows. Thirty stories below, pedestrians went about their business, rushing
along the city sidewalks like ants on a mission. Elliot pressed his thumb
against the glass as if he could squish them. All of them. People were such a
nuisance.

Especially Gus and Marcus.

Especially Michael.

Wherever you are, Michael, I’ll find you. And
I’ll squash you like the worthless ant you are. I’ll squash you with my own
bare hands.

CHAPTER 26

 

 

Near
Little Rock
,
Arkansas

Max yanked the polka tape out of PJ’s
eight-track stereo and tossed it on the floor. “How do people stand that stuff?
And they give us grief over rock & roll. Go figure.”

The trip had been without incident so far, which
Max attributed to his continuous prayers. The first three hundred miles had
been exciting. He was on a rescue mission! He imagined the relief at home when
they heard he had not only found his mom, but was on his way home with her.
They would quickly forgive his impulsive decision to take off without
permission. Their gratitude would far outweigh any anxiety they’d experienced.

Sure it would.

But as the miles stretched on, he had grown
steadily more irritated at himself for making such a hasty departure
. I
should have left a note. Maybe I should have spoken with Dad. At least a phone
call—anything to keep from adding another burden on them right now. Way to go,
Max. They’re probably losing their minds with worry about now.

 
His thoughts spiraling
downward, Max pulled over at a convenience store on the outskirts of
Little
Rock
,
Arkansas
. He
would have no peace until he placed the call. He was exhausted anyway, and knew
he needed some serious sleep.

But first things first.
He’d
checked in with Megan a couple of times already, but he needed to hear her
voice before placing his other call. He dialed the familiar number. The sound of
her voice pumped him up again. He told her about his decision to call home.
After a brief discussion, she agreed it was the right thing to do.

“So how’s PJ doing? He’s not dressing up like
007 to serve donuts, is he?”

“He’s such a riot, Max. But you know what? I
think this whole escapade has made him feel really important somehow. Like he’s
a significant part of something very important. I’m not sure how long he’ll be
able to keep the secret, but so far he’s been great. I think you should
probably call him. Maybe after you get some rest. It would mean a lot to him.”

“I’ll do that. Well, I guess I better go. I miss
you, Megan,” he said softly. “I can’t believe how good it is to hear your
voice.”

“I love you, Max McGregor.”

“I love you, Megan Tanner.”

“Keep in touch, okay?”

“I will. Talk to you later.”

Max hung up the pay phone. He suddenly realized
how hungry he was and decided to get some dinner before placing his next call.

He was stalling and he knew it.

 

 

Max took a deep breath.
Oh God, please let
him understand.

“Hello?”

“Dad, it’s me, Max.”

“Max! Where are you? We’ve been worried to
death!”

“I know, Dad. And I’m really sorry. I never
should have left the way I did.” The words tumbled over themselves. “I
just . . . all I could think about was finding Mom and bringing
her home. I thought maybe then you’d . . . maybe it would make
you . . .”

BOOK: The Runaway Pastor's Wife
3.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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