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 (50 page)

BOOK: The Runaway Pastor's Wife
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Minutes passed. The frigid air pressed down on
them like strangling fingers. Annie couldn’t stop shivering. She was freezing
and miserable, but nothing could compare to the dagger she felt in her heart.
Would this be how it ended? Would their enemies find them frozen to death on
the side of this mountain? Would she never have the chance to explain
everything to Max?

She found a spot and sat down, burying her face
in her arms. She pulled her knees up tight and tried to stay calm. When she
thought she couldn’t bear the cold and the heartache a second more, she felt
someone move in beside her. Max wrapped his arms around her just as she raised
her head.

“We’ll be warmer if we stay close together,” he
whispered, his cheeks flushed from the bitter cold. She saw a flicker of
compassion in his eyes, if only for a moment. With a guarded smile, she
snuggled closer to him, burying her face against his strong shoulder.

Her silent prayers continued in the agonizing minutes
that crept by. After an eternity, she felt Max tense his muscles. She looked
up. Doc held up a hand in warning, his head cocked at a strange angle as he
listened for something in the wind.

Suddenly the air split with the distinct crack
of a rifle locking into position.

“Drop the rifle, old man. Nice and easy.”

 

 

They followed the sound of Grady’s strangely
calm and commanding voice until they spotted him behind the barrel of a
shotgun. His towering frame hovered only a few yards away just to the right of
their hollow. Annie and Max stood together in one motion. Doc backed up to
stand in front of them, his arms extending back to protect them. Michael
remained seated, unable to stand.

“Grady, don’t do this,” he shouted.

“Sorry, man. It’s too late to turn back now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. We can work something
out. Just help us get away from Elliot and I swear—we’ll leave you out of this
completely.”

“No way.”

“You’re not like him! You could never be as evil
as Elliot! He’s using you! Can’t you see that?”

“You’re wrong, Michael. By eliminating you from
the picture, I return a huge favor to Elliot, and get rid of a life-long bur
under my saddle—
you.
Killing two birds with one stone, you could say.
Now, one more time, old man. Drop the gun.”

Doc lowered his rifle to the ground, rising back
up with hands uplifted.

“That’s better.”

Michael raised his good arm toward Max. “Help me
up, Max, okay?” With great effort, Max helped lift Michael to his feet.

“Michael, I’ll only warn you once. Don’t do
anything stupid,” Grady cautioned in a slow, menacing cadence.

Michael nodded in compliance. “Listen to me,
Brewster. Think about what you’re doing. There’s no way you’ll come out of this
clean and you know it. Tell me, man—what’s
Shari
gonna
think when she finds out your dirty little secrets? Huh? And what about Molly
and Jason? Oh, they’ll be
real
proud to tell their friends about their
jailbird daddy—”

“Shut up!”

“Nice work, Grady.” The smug compliment
interrupted them as Elliot stepped into view, his own rifle now aimed at them
alongside Grady’s. “I never doubted for a moment that I could count on you.”

Michael’s eyes tracked back to Grady. Cautiously
ignoring his father-in-law, he tried again to appeal to his life-long friend,
hoping somehow to get under his skin. “You can’t possibly want to bring this
kind of shame to your family. Think of them, man! You’ll break
Shari
’s
heart—”

“I said shut up!”

“All that stuff you said about me—it was true,”
he pressed on. “I know it now. But you’ve got it all wrong.
You’re
the
one who had it all. In the end, you came out on top. Don’t you see? You have a
wife who loves you. You have two kids—Grady, you’re their hero! Think about
them. Think about what you’re doing! What will happen to them when this all
goes down? What will they think of you then?”

“Shut up, Michael!”

“Don’t throw it all away! Don’t ruin their lives
with this ridiculous attempt at revenge—”

“I said SHUT UP!”


Shari
will
leave you. You know she will. She’ll never put up with—”


Leave
her out of this
!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Brewster!” Michael yelled.

“I SAID SHUT UP!” A string of expletives
followed his final warning before Grady snapped his shotgun straight up into
the air and fired a shot. The blast echoed against the mountains, bouncing in
deathly repetition.

He narrowed his eyes in contempt, lowering his
weapon back at Michael, aiming it right between his eyes. “The next one has
your name on it.”

“I think it’s about time we put an end to this
little soiree once and for all,” Elliot announced as if ending some boring business
meeting.

At first, it sounded like an amplified,
prolonged ripping . . .

“What was that?” an unseen voice shouted above.

“Shhhh!” another hissed in response, from the
lip of the ridge above them. “Listen!”

The ripping grew louder and louder until it
roared all around them. Elliot and Grady lifted their faces, their eyes
widening in terrified symmetry. Michael and Doc looked at each other in
confusion. Annie clung to Max as the strange noise filled them with compounded
fear.

“AVALANCHE!”

Like a runaway freight train careening off its
track, the furious mountain broke off a wild, enormous slice of ice and snow.
No doubt angered by the unwelcome assault of the shotgun blast, it spewed a
raging landslide of white thunder from above.

Tucked beneath the protective overhang of the
mountain shelter, Doc’s entourage flattened themselves against the wall of the
carved-out refuge. They watched in horror as the massive wedge of blinding snow
bore down before them. Marcus and Grady flew past them like a couple of rag
dolls, their arms and legs flailing in futile motion, their cries buried in the
roar. The momentum lifted Grady and Elliot off their feet, flinging them out of
sight into the wall of white.

The avalanche rumbled on and on, cutting a path
of destruction and uprooting frozen trees like so many matchsticks.

The four of them grasped onto each other,
holding on with every ounce of strength as the barrage continued around them.

And then—silence. They stood, stunned in the
aftermath of what they’d just witnessed.

“Michael! This is part of your miracle!” Annie
turned, grabbing his arm. “Remember how you said it would take a miracle to get
out of your mess? Well, God did it—again! He gave you another miracle, don’t
you see?” Tears of joy streamed down her face. “He
saved
you! He saved
all of us!”

She pulled back, turning to her son. “Max? Oh,
sweetheart!” She cried in the arms of her son whose own tears slipped down his
reddened cheeks.

“I know, Mom. I know.”

An eerie silence slipped around them. The calm
after the storm. No more threats. No more gun fire. No more explosions
cascading down this mountain. The rush of nature’s fury now rested.

God’s little remnant of survivors held onto each
other once more as the reality of their survival sunk in. Doc looked over his
shoulder at the newly rearranged landscape. His lips parted as he tried to
speak, then clamped shut, his chin trembling. He sniffed, obviously embarrassed
by his emotion even as gratitude wrinkled his brow.

Max, too, found it difficult to speak. Annie knew
a long list of unanswered questions still pounded at his heart’s door,
smothered in the wake of this moment. She watched as he stole glances at
Michael. His
father
.

Moments passed. Then Michael blinked away tears
as he smiled at her. “You’re right, Annie. Except your count is off. The way I
see, it, we’ve experienced
three
miracles here today.” He briefly turned
misty eyes toward the young man clinging to his side, then winked at her.

“Three miracles,” she marveled, shaking her
head. “Such amazing grace.”

EPILOGUE

 

 

Weber Creek
,
Colorado

The seductive aroma of Mary Jean Williamson’s
fresh-baked cinnamon rolls wafted through the general store now crowded with a
horde of welcomed guests. She and Bob hosted each and every one of them with
beaming smiles, hot drinks and plates full of the piping hot confections.

David remained close at his wife’s side, his
arms wrapped tightly around her as they enjoyed the warmth from the stone
fireplace. Annie relaxed, nestled snugly against him, thanking God to be back
where she belonged—secure in her husband’s arms.

She hugged him hard. “I love you, David. I’ll
never leave you again. I promise.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Good. I just
hope you still say that a year from now. I’ve decided to take the next twelve
months off. We are now officially on sabbatical. You and I are going to travel
and spend a
whole
lot of time together. A fresh start, Annie. Figure out
how to do a better job of this life we’ve chosen. How does that sound?”

She turned to face him, hardly believing the
words she’d just heard. Then, with a burst of laughter, she jumped into his
embrace, showering him with tears of love.

The questions, heartaches, and doubts that first
led her to this remote mountain stayed tucked away in her heart as the healing
process began. Reassured through the startling events of the past several days,
Annie kept laughing, basking in the sweet relief of God’s faithful sovereignty
in her life. The whys and hows seemed insignificant now. In their place, God’s
strength upheld her with His promises. He had delivered her safely back to
David, reminding her once again of His eternal hedge of protection.

When Sheriff Patterson, his deputy, and a small
posse of the locals rescued them from their oasis, Annie was overcome with joy
to find David waiting anxiously for her at the top of the cabin steps. He
explained that Pete Nardozzi had persuaded a fellow officer—a former Navy
combat pilot—to fly them to
Colorado
in his private jet
despite the weather conditions. They arrived in Weber Creek just as Patterson
and his crew were heading up to Eagle’s Nest. Before they could piece together
the apparent drama that preceded their arrival, a shotgun blast boomed through
the winter sky. They rushed to the cabin’s balcony just as the avalanche slid down
the mountain beneath them.

In the aftermath, the lifeless bodies of
Congressman Elliot Thomas and Grady Brewster were eventually dug out from the
fallen debris covered by a shroud of snow. Their accomplices, Gus Rainey and
Marcus Simmons, survived the avalanche. They were transported by ambulance to
the nearest hospital some thirty miles away under heavy guard of Colorado State
Patrolmen.

Now, as the group recovered in the safe haven of
Williamson’s General Store, Max and Michael talked quietly together, their
rocking chairs pulled away from everyone else. Michael, his wounds freshly
dressed at Doc’s office, had refused an ambulance ride to the hospital. He
needed to be here now. Still stunned by the wonders so graciously bequeathed to
him, he also yearned for a chance to get acquainted with his son.

Then would come the long-overdue explanation of
Max’s lineage. Here, with the security of Annie and David so close by, Max
agreed to hear the truth at last; the initial shock that sent him bolting out
of the cabin, all but forgotten. Unbridled fear has a way of leveling out the
playing field of emotions.

“Glory! I can’t
ever
remember having so
much commotion in our quiet little town!” Mary Jean handed Doc a fresh mug of
coffee. “I feel like we’ve been through the grinder. At least four or five
times! Don’t you, George?”

Doc gave her a weary smile. He accepted the mug
into his still trembling hands. “Yes, MJ, I do at that.”

“How can I ever thank you?
All
of you?”
Annie asked, her voice husky.

BOOK: The Runaway Pastor's Wife
11.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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