Chapter Twenty-Five

After Paul left to check out the barbecue stand, Kate headed to the pumpkin weigh-in, enjoying a hot dog with all the fixin’s on the way. She didn’t even like hot dogs and couldn’t understand why they tasted so good at a ball game or fair, or in this case, a pumpkin festival. She was glad she talked LuAnne out of ordering pumpkin-apple sausages for a rather different tasting hot dog.

Up ahead, she spotted Eli pushing a wheelbarrow into a large tent where the pumpkins were kept before they were judged.

She followed him inside.

The tent was as big as a barn, with hundreds of pumpkins of all sizes scattered around on a hay-covered floor.

Eli was on the far side of the tent by a mound of small pumpkins, loading them into the wheelbarrow. He turned when he heard the crunch of her footsteps in the hay.

She stared at him, a million thoughts running through her head.

He spoke first. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

She nodded.

“I saw it in your face at the parade.” Eli let his gaze drift away from hers. “It was a fantasy, I suppose, but I had hoped you and Pastor Paul would never find out.”

She finally found her voice. “The day of the fire was your wedding day, wasn’t it?”

He stared at her, then swallowed hard and said, “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. At least until you talked about it this morning. Then the pieces began to fit together. I already knew about the baseball cap.”

He frowned. “What cap?”

“Jed Brawley saw you run from the church that morning. But all he recognized was the iridescent logo on the front of your hat. He said it looked like a pirate.” She paused. “Or, more accurately, a buccaneer.”

Eli’s quick intake of breath was audible. “And Pastor Paul has one like it. I’ve seen it.”

“He wore it fishing yesterday. It has the official logo of the East Tennessee State Buccaneers, your alma mater, and Paul’s.”

“The fire was an accident.” He swept back his shock of blond hair. His face was pale, and his brown eyes seemed larger than ever behind his tortoiseshell glasses.

“I figured that, Eli.” She kept her voice low, though truth be told, her sadness for him, for them all, made it difficult to speak.

“Diedre and I had planned it for years, then cancer took her. I was inconsolable. She was everything to me.”

Kate took a step toward him, but he backed away. “Please, stay away from me.”

She held up a hand to calm him. “It’s all right. Go on.”

“I went into the sanctuary to yell at God, to tell him everything I’d kept pent up for all those weeks and months. Something about the place was comforting, maybe a sense of holiness, or maybe the memories of being there with my grandparents when I was a little kid.

“For a long time, I didn’t do anything. I just stared up at the cross. Then I sat down in the first pew and started talking to God. I spewed out my bitter story, I railed on and on, and I cried until I had no more tears left to cry.

“And then, in the stillness, I felt his touch. His forgiveness. His mercy.”

Eli fell silent for a moment. Outside the tent, the sounds of the festival went on, the laughter of little children, the blare of Sam’s voice over the PA system announcing the winner of some event, and somewhere in the distance, the band played “Way Down upon the Sewanee River.”

“When it was over,” Eli said finally, “I was exhausted. I’d been staying up day and night, unable to sleep because of my grief. I was emotionally wrung out. I fell asleep, right there in front of the altar.”

“That still doesn’t explain how the fire started,” Kate said.

“I lit a candle. The flame was to remind me of God’s refining fire. I wanted to start over fresh. I wanted to be rid of the bitterness and hatred.

“When I fell asleep, I must have knocked it somehow.” He shrugged. “However it happened, the candle fell over and caught the altar cloth on fire. That’s when I woke up and tried for a few minutes to put it out. But it spread so quickly, I ran away like the coward I am.”

“You’ve got to tell Sheriff Roberts.”

He shook his head. “Who’s gonna believe me?”

“I do.”

“I can’t go to jail. You don’t understand. I would die in jail. I’ve told you how I feel about being outdoors. Working in the shop is bad enough, but if I was locked up...I-I wouldn’t survive. If I don’t tell, then I don’t have to worry about it. Everything’s cool.” His expression didn’t match his cavalier words.

“You’re weighed down with guilt, Eli. You will be until the day you die unless you tell what happened.”

“I can’t,” he said and dropped his head in his hands.

“Come with me, Eli. I’ll go with you.” She took a few steps toward him.

He shook his head and backed away from her. “I tried to make up for what I did—all the plans, the construction, all that was to try to pay back what I’d taken from you.” He was crying now. “But it still wasn’t enough.”

“I know. But you need to understand that none of this takes away from the gift you’ve given us—all you’ve done. Or your friendship with Pastor Paul and me. That will never change, no matter what happens.”

He was still shaking his head. “I can’t, I’m sorry.” He started for the door.

Skip Spencer stepped out of the shadows. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said solemnly. “You’re coming with me.”

Skip shot Kate a look that surprised her. She thought he might be proud of his first real arrest. But his freckled face showed only sadness.

The two walked out of the tent together, and Kate sat down on a hay bale and cried.