Chapter Nine

Summer bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding, her body shaking. A chill black silence surrounded her. Groggily, she threw back the blanket and swung her bare feet to the cold floor. What had awakened her?

“Mommy! Mommy!” Timmy screamed over and over, his voice echoing through the stillness of the cabin.

Summer turned on the light beside her bed, put on her robe and scurried across the hall. She had no idea what she could do to help Timmy, but she had to try. She paused on the threshold of his room. What if he rebuffed her again?

In the dim light from her bedroom, Summer saw Nicole sitting upright. Timmy writhed on his bed, still calling for his mother. Summer knelt beside him, and when she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, he quieted.

“Timmy, wake up,” she said. “You’re having a bad dream.”

“Mommy,” he said again, but she thought he was still asleep.

“I’m Aunt Summer. Are you sick? What can I do to help?”

He started moaning, and Nicole said, “He has bad dreams lots of time when he’s upset. Mommy always gave him a drink of water and got in bed with him until he settled down.”

“Okay. I’ll try that,” Summer said. On wobbly legs, she brought a glass of water from the kitchen, sat on the bed and supported Timmy’s back. A cold knot was where her stomach should have been.

“Here’s a drink, Timmy.” He took several deep swallows. She set the glass on the floor, moved Timmy over in the bed and lay beside him, her own body as stiff as a board. She tried to relax as she rubbed his back. Remembering a lullaby Clara had often sung to her when, as a child, she couldn’t go to sleep, Summer sang quietly in her pleasing contralto voice, “Sleep on, my child, I’m always near, ready and waiting to calm your fears.”

Timmy sighed and cuddled beside Summer. Did her voice sound enough like Spring’s that he felt his mother was with him? Spring and Summer had been a lot alike, so perhaps that was the reason Spring had wanted her to be the children’s guardian.

“Mommy used to sing that song to us,” Nicole whispered. “Is he all right now?” Summer had forgotten about her.

“He seems to be sleeping. I’ll stay here a while. You go back to sleep.”

Nicole settled into bed, and Summer continued to hum the nursery rhyme until she lulled herself to sleep. The next thing she knew daylight was seeping into the small bedroom. She still lay on Timmy’s bed, and a small hand was tapping her on the shoulder.

“I’m hungry,” Timmy said. Did he remember what had happened last night? If not, he must wonder why she was in his bed.

“We’ll see what we can do about that,” she said, stretching and trying to get the kinks out of her back. Timmy’s bed wasn’t made for two people. “What do you eat for breakfast?”

“Cereal.”

Summer had forgotten to remove her watch the night before, and she checked on the time. It was seven o’clock. Nicole turned over in bed when Summer started toward the hallway.

“What time do you go to school, Nicole?”

“After we eat breakfast.”

“What about Timmy? Does he go to school?”

“He’s in kindergarten. He’s not old enough to be there, but Miss Edna lets him come because Daddy and Mommy had to work.”

“Will you help Timmy wash his hands and get ready for breakfast? Do you want cereal, too?”

“Yeah.”

Summer had bought a gallon of milk in Asheville, for she figured Spring’s children would be fond of milk. The Weaver sisters had drunk lots of it, so she poured three glasses of milk and small glasses of apple juice. By the time Timmy and Nicole came to the kitchen, she’d placed several boxes of crunchy, sweetened cereal on the table, along with two bowls decorated with biblical characters.

“That’s mine,” Timmy said, seating himself at the table and grabbing the bowl featuring Noah and an ark full of animals. Nicole sat opposite him and took the other bowl.

“That’s Mommy’s chair,” Nicole said, pointing to the chair at her left. Summer hesitated, not knowing whether to consider the statement an invitation to sit in Spring’s chair or a warning not to. She perched on the chair, and when there was no protest, she poured a bowl of cereal for herself from a box of unsweetened wheat mix.

The two children hadn’t started eating, and they stared at her intently. She glanced around the table. “Have I forgotten something?”

“We haven’t said grace yet,” Nicole said, and Summer’s face flushed. Frantically trying to think of a way out of this predicament, she said, “Okay, which one of you wants to pray?”

“I do,” Timmy said. He bowed his head as did Nicole, and in his childish voice said, “God is great, and God is good, and we thank Him for this food. Amen.”

“Uncle David didn’t listen to our prayers last night,” Nicole said. “We can’t forget tonight.”

So that was another hurdle she had to face! She feared this was only the beginning of the marathon before her.

“Now that our Mommy has gone to Heaven, Uncle David says you’re going to be our mother,” Timmy said. His wide blue eyes were bright, reminding Summer of her sister.

Part of the time they must accept that their parents were dead!

“Did Uncle David tell you that’s what your parents asked us to do?”

“Grandpa had already told us before he got to the farm,” Nicole said.

“Then you know that your mother and daddy wanted to be sure you had someone to look after you if they should go to Heaven before you were old enough to take care of yourselves.”

The kids nodded, their eyes serious.

“I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t know anything about taking care of kids. Spring was a good mother because she’d had six years of practice, but you’ll have to be patient with me. If I make mistakes, I hope you’ll forgive me and let me try over.”

“We’ll help you,” Timmy promised solemnly.

She motioned to the sofa. “When I came here a few days ago, the squirrels had chewed holes in the sofa and chair and the padding was scattered around the floor. I thought I was doing you a favor to buy new furniture, but if you’re that unhappy about it, we can bring the old things back in.”

Timmy left the table and climbed up into the chair. He wiggled around as if trying it on for size.

“It’s okay,” he said.

“Nicole?”

“We were sad last night,” she answered. “You can keep the furniture.”

“And there are lots of other things I don’t know. Do you need help to put your clothes on? What time do you get up in the morning? What time do you go to bed? Do you come home for lunch, or do you eat at school?”

“I can dress myself,” Nicole said, reeling off the answers one by one, “except maybe buttons in the back and help with my hair. Timmy needs help taking a shower and cleaning his teeth, and he still has trouble getting on his shoes and socks. He’ll wear dirty clothes if you don’t watch him. Uncle David dressed him in the motel yesterday morning. We get up about seven and go to bed at nine o’clock.”

“Sometimes we got to stay up later than that,” Timmy protested.

“Not very often.”

“We eat lunch at school,” Timmy contributed.

“That’s enough for me to remember right now,” Summer said.

“Are you and Uncle David married?” Timmy asked.

“No,” Summer answered, flustered. “What made you think that?”

“If you’re going to be our mother, and he’s our daddy, we just thought it ought to be that way,” Nicole said.

“We’re not supposed to take the place of your parents. We’re still your aunt and uncle like always.”

“Are you gonna get married?” Timmy persisted.

“We haven’t talked about it,” Summer answered, wondering why she didn’t make an outright denial.

“What are we gonna call you?” Nicole asked.

“What’s wrong with Aunt Summer?”

“The words are hard to say together,” Timmy said.

“Auntie might be all right,” Nicole said, her lips pursed, as if it were a weighty decision.

“That’s fine with me. Right now, you need to get ready for school.”

Supervising the children as they prepared for school was a revelation to Summer. She’d never been allowed to decide what she would wear until she’d started junior high school, but Nicole insisted that she choose her own garments. That wasn’t much of a decision, for the school code provided that girls should wear a dark skirt and a white blouse. While Nicole dressed, Summer monitored Timmy cleaning his teeth. He ran into the bedroom, and when Summer got there, he’d stripped off his pajamas and stood naked waiting for her to help him dress. She gasped and started to reprimand him, but she quickly realized neither he nor Nicole thought anything about his natural state.

Swallowing her confusion, she turned to the three-drawer chest at the foot of his bed. Without looking at Timmy, she handed him a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, hoping he’d put them on by himself. When she finally turned with a pair of dark-blue trousers and a white shirt in her hands, Timmy had put on his underwear, but he had the T-shirt on backward. She removed it and pulled it over his head in the proper position.

Getting his tennis shoes on was no easy task, but the pair she chose closed with Velcro strips, which sped up the chore.

“I can’t get my hair fixed right,” Nicole complained, and Summer reached for the brush. “I want it brushed high on my head and this barrette put on it.”

That wasn’t hard for Summer because Nicole’s hair was thick and manageable. She’d often helped Spring fix her hair in this fashion when they were teenagers, and it felt right to be performing the same service for Spring’s daughter.

Summer was startled when David’s voice sounded at the bedroom door. “Looks like everyone is about ready for school.”

“I’m not sure,” Summer said, looking up at him, laughing. “I’d like a second opinion, if you don’t mind.”

“Hi, Uncle David,” Timmy said, and rushed to his uncle, who swung him up into his arms.

“Hi, buddy. Looks like you’re ready to be the star pupil in kindergarten today.”

Summer snapped the barrette over Nicole’s soft hair. “Does that feel all right?” she asked anxiously.

Nicole peered in the little mirror by the side of her bed. “Okay, I guess, but Mommy used to fasten it higher.”

“I’ll remember next time,” Summer said, with a resigned look at David. He reached into the hall closet and handed out two coats. “You’ll need to bundle up this morning,” he said. “It’s frosty outside.”

“Grandma Weaver gave us these coats before we left the farm,” Nicole told Summer.

“Do you walk to school alone or should I go with you?”

“We go by ourselves. Won’t nobody hurt us up here,” Nicole said. “C’mon, Timmy.” She grabbed her brother’s hand and hustled him out of the house.

“Whew!” Summer said when the door slammed behind the children. She dropped heavily on the new chair.

“Had a hard morning?” David asked sympathetically as he prepared the coffeemaker.

“It’s probably a normal morning in a house with two kids, but I’m not used to such turmoil. For the time being, they seemed to have accepted me, so that’s one advantage.”

She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, savoring the rich aroma of coffee as the water dripped into the carafe. Summer was still dressed in her pajamas with a pink terry robe wrapped around her, but David’s interested eye noted that even in nightclothes, she looked like a fashion model. She didn’t stir until he tapped her on the shoulder.

“Drink this coffee. It’ll perk you up.”

She cuddled the coffee mug in both hands and sniffed the pungent aroma.

“Thanks. If you’re hungry, there’s a package of rolls in the refrigerator. I ate cereal with the kids.”

“I took the cafeteria breakfast. It’s not bad. Edna wants to meet with us this morning to organize our schedules and tell us what duties we have. Can you be ready in an hour?” he asked.

Summer glanced down at her garments and colored slightly. She’d forgotten that she still had on her robe, no makeup, and she hadn’t combed her hair.

“Sorry I’m not more presentable, but I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I overslept,” she said apologetically and explained to him about Timmy’s nightmare. “I’ll straighten the house, and then it won’t take long to shower and dress.”

“If you want to take the bedrooms, I’ll clear away the breakfast things and wash the dishes.”

“Deal!” she said with a laugh.

She heard him whistling while she made the beds and put away the kids’ nightclothes.

Summer thought of his comment the night before that they should get married. Was he serious about it? Would it be like this if they were married, sharing the responsibility of the house and taking care of the children?

If they were married! Summer was straightening the sheets on her bed, and she stopped abruptly. She could hear running water in the sink and David rattling the dishes as he cleared the table. Her whole outlook on life and many of her attitudes had changed the past few weeks. How much did David have to do with the change in her?

She’d never seriously contemplated marriage. Marriage meant losing your personal freedom by sharing it with another. She remembered the minister’s reference to this fact during Autumn’s wedding. He’d said, “You’re no longer one person, you’re now joined to each other,” and Autumn and Nathan had lit a unity candle indicating that they’d become one. As she fluffed the pillows and arranged the comforter, Summer acknowledged that marriage also meant an intimate relationship. Her mind shied away from that possibility, but she did look at David in a different light when they walked along the path to the school compound.

Their footsteps crackled on the frosty grass, and their breath was visible. The sun’s rays filtered slowly into the mountain valley and the air was still cold. Summer zipped her jacket.

“Are winters cold here? Do they have much snow?”

“I imagine so, but Edna will be able to answer your questions. We’re to meet her in The Crossroads’ office.”

The administration building housed not only the offices, but the classrooms and cafeteria, and they heard the hum of student voices as they entered the building. Edna met them at the front door.

“You can see the schoolrooms when classes aren’t in session, but the teachers’ lounge and the administrative offices are down this way.”

She pointed out a small room with several easy chairs and a long table with straight chairs around it. One wall was lined with bookshelves. An ancient copier and one computer station was located near the door. “The teachers come here for their preparation time,” Edna explained.

Next were two connecting offices, and Edna led the way into the largest room. “Bert used this office, and Spring did the secretarial work in the other room, but you can divide duties to suit yourselves.”

She motioned David to the chair behind the desk, and as he sat there, he was overwhelmed with the loss of his brother. Perhaps Edna and Summer sensed his emotion for they sat opposite him and didn’t speak. David stared at the stacks of unopened mail on the desk. A flash of loneliness overcame him and he closed his eyes. He felt so inadequate sitting in his brother’s chair.

“Will you explain what we’re expected to do?” Summer asked, giving David time to compose himself.

“It’s a big job. You’ll be responsible for handling the funds that come to the school and allocating them to cover the needs. There’s never enough money. Fund-raising is also a part of the job. That’s what Bert and Spring were doing when the accident happened. It’s necessary for you to occasionally visit the churches that donate to the work and tell them what’s going on.”

“I’m not at ease speaking publicly, but David could do that, I’m sure.”

“With your experience in business administration, Summer, perhaps you can take over the finances,” David suggested in a strained voice.

“I’m sure I can.”

“You must plan the curriculum with the teaching staff,” Edna explained.

“And that’s where I’ll be lost,” Summer said.

David shrugged his shoulders. “Same with me. I know nothing about the current educational system.”

“You can rely on the teachers for advice until you learn. Of course, as supervisor of both schools, I’m available for consultation at any time. I’d suggest that each of you visit the classes on a regular basis for a few weeks. You’ll learn more about the curriculum that way than my telling you.”

The rest of the morning, David and Summer sifted through the accumulation of mail and started organizing the two offices to suit their own temperaments. When Summer looked over the financial records, she decided that Bert was a better missionary than he was an accountant, and she knew she’d have to start a whole new system. The ancient computer in the office was of little use, and while she’d intended to keep her personal computer in the house for the children, it could be put to better use in the office.

They ate lunch with the staff and students, and before they went back to the office, David said, “Let’s walk down to the lake. I’m not used to being cooped up inside, and I could use some fresh air.”

They sat on a bench overlooking the lake, silently watching a flock of ducks searching for food. The mountains were more colorful than they’d been during their first visit, for frost was steadily marching the colored leaves down the slopes. The air was fresh and invigorating. A jet stream slashed across the blue of the sky and a faint sound of the plane reached them, but otherwise, there was no sound except that of nature.

“This is a peaceful place,” Summer said. “I’m beginning to have a slight inkling of why my sister wanted to live here. In New York, my windows were always closed to keep out the sound of traffic, but here I like to hear the blending of insects’ songs.”

David nodded his agreement, but his face was solemn. Obviously, the scenery wasn’t on his mind.

“It’s been a sad morning for me to be handling my brother’s possessions, knowing I’ll never see him again. There’s a plaque on Bert’s desk that quotes the words of Solomon. ‘Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever.’ These mountains haven’t changed much since the Creation, and they’ll still look the same thousands of years from now. When I considered how short life is, I asked myself why I hesitated about giving up a lucrative job to carry on the work our loved ones started.”

“And I’ve been thinking about how nearly this work stopped because there was no money to carry on. If money hadn’t been an issue, I’m sure the mission board could have found an administrator.”

“The finances are bad, huh?”

“The school exists from month to month.”

“At first, we’ll have to go slowly. I couldn’t sleep last night, either—fretting because I’d let myself wander so far from my Lord until I can’t depend on Him for daily guidance. But I believe, if it’s God’s will, we’ll succeed at The Crossroads. Bert and Spring started the work, but it’s up to us to carry it on, until someone else takes the torch from us.”

“So, just like Bert and Spring, we’re stepping out on faith.”

David rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I remember from my Bible-reading days that in the New Testament, Paul the apostle said, ‘I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.’ That may be the case here at The Crossroads.”

“You mean that Spring and Bert were the ones to plant the seed by establishing the school, you and I are to water it by placing the school on a secure foundation, but that God actually provides the growth?”

“That’s the way I’ve figured it out.”

“That’s a big responsibility, but it does give some meaning to why we’re here.”

David shook his head and blinked his eyes as if to rid himself of such serious thoughts.

“Now why should I be so gloomy, when I’m sitting here in this beautiful glade beside a pretty lady!” He put his arm around Summer’s shoulders and a grin spread over his features. “You are pretty, Summer. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

Summer flushed slightly. “Not that I ever remember. Don’t forget, I lived with a real beauty in the family. It’s hard to measure up to Autumn.”

His fingers tightened on the soft flesh of her shoulder. “You underestimate yourself. I’d trade Autumn for you any day.”

“I’m sure her husband would be pleased to know that.”

“I’m serious. I like your short, straight hair, that’s golden-bronze rather than auburn.” His hand tenderly smoothed her hair as he spoke. “You’re petite, you have dainty features, and skin the shade of a pale-pink rose.”

Her skin wasn’t pink now, for Summer felt a rush of blood to her face. “Oh, stop it, David! You’re embarrassing me.”

He laughed lowly, a provocative sound that sent her pulses racing. He turned her face to his and brushed her lips with his as he said softly, “This assignment at The Crossroads may not be so bad, after all. I’m having thoughts now that I’ve never had before. I like you, Summer, I like you a lot.”

His lips gently covered her mouth, and for a few moments she surrendered to the floating sensation of being held close in David’s arms. Then she pushed him away.

“David, you must stop kissing me! We have to remember why we’re here—to operate a school for thirty teenagers and take care of two orphaned children. Any personal involvement between us will hamper what we came here to do. Promise you won’t kiss me again.”

“I won’t make such a promise. I didn’t intend to kiss you today, but I just get carried away when I realize how fascinating you are. Who’s to know when it might happen again?”

With a slight grimace, she said, “Then I’ll stop being fascinating.” She stood up. “We should go back to work. I need to figure out how to operate a school on half the money Daddy spends to take care of his horses.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “I’ll try to suppress my impulses.”