16

“Hey, Brady! Alan Durbin here. Got a minute?”

Alone in his office, Brady raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t had so much as a chance encounter with the Baptist pastor for at least a year. Why would he be calling now?

“Of course, Alan. I hope all is well. You keeping the good folks at Calvary Baptist in line? Or is it the other way around?” He chuckled into the phone. “On this end of the village it’s a toss-up at any given time.”

“The church is truckin’ along as usual. Pretty much the same congregation I had last time we spoke. Sure could use a revival. I don’t think we’ve even had a visitor in months. The enemy’s fighting for souls as hard as we are.”

“I hear you. Trust me, friend, the need for a refreshing is widespread. We could do with an outpouring at Cambria House of Praise, as well.” He settled further into his leather chair—the sole concession to comfort he’d allowed in his barebones office. “So what can I do for you? You didn’t call to hear my pretty voice.”

Alan laughed. “You’re right, I didn’t, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea. We should stay in better touch. We may not see eye to eye on doctrine, but we’re both serving the same God, and trying to save souls for the same Kingdom.”

“Agreed. Maybe we can get all the local ministers together. Form some kind of minister’s alliance.” Brady blinked. Where had that come from? He’d never even considered such a thing, and hadn’t known he would suggest it until the words spilled from his lips. God, I’m all for following Your lead, but a little heads-up when You plan to tug pretty hard on the reins would be nice…

“Great idea! I’d love to see that happen.”

Something in Alan’s voice told Brady the man needed encouragement. Who better to lift up and encourage a pastor than another pastor? Maybe the idea God spurted from Brady’s mouth should be put into action. “Then we’ll make it happen. Why don’t you drop in over here one day this week? We’ll borrow some coffee from the Chrysalis kitchen and have a chat.”

“I’ll do it, Brady. I’ll call before I come.” He paused and cleared his throat.

Brady tensed. That didn’t sound like anything good was about to be said.

“Listen, I got a phone call a few minutes ago that felt a little weird. Some journalist from that news channel in Cornelius Cove. A woman. You haven’t heard from her, have you?”

Brady’s heart skipped a beat or two. “Can’t say I’ve seen any news hounds poking around over here. Why? What did she want?”

“You would’ve been pretty young at the time, but are you familiar with Rory Cope Ministries? They were one of the biggies for a long time, but eventually they went the way of so many celebrity ministers. This would’ve been…oh, I don’t know, maybe ten, twelve years back.”

Thirteen, to be exact. “Sure, I remember them.” He forced a bit of laughter and hoped it didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “I was young but not that young.”

“OK, well…do you remember the young man who traveled with Cope during the last few years of his work? Kid’s name was Ethan Miracle. Preached like a house afire!”

Pain—and panic—lanced through Brady’s heart. He closed his eyes against images he thought he’d eradicated years ago. “I remember him, but come on…as you said, it’s been a long time. Was he the reason for the call from Cornelius Cove?”

“Oh, the woman who called me is from Cornelius Cove, but at the moment, she’s here—in Cambria. You know who I’m talking about. Does the human interest stuff at KCCN. Calls herself Winter Wonder, though I can’t believe she was born with a name like that.” He chuckled. “Anyway, someone tipped them off that Miracle might be living here in our little village.”

Brady forced a laugh that came out sharp and brittle. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. The lady was pleasant, but boy, was she ever determined! Had a whole truckload of questions. By the time she was through with me, I was starting to think maybe I am Ethan Miracle and just don’t know it.” He laughed—a short, dry bark. “Man, those people can be tenacious!”

“Yeah, I know.” A pain shot through Brady’s jaw when he clenched his teeth. “They’re relentless.”

“I hear that. Anyway, I wondered if you’d heard from her already, and thought I’d give you a heads-up in case you hadn’t.”

“I appreciate the thought.” Brady forced himself to remain pleasant. He couldn’t show any over-reaction to Alan’s news. “And don’t forget to come by. Let’s talk about that minister’s alliance. To be honest, such a thing never even occurred to me before, but I think God planted it in our minds today. It’s up to us to make it happen.”

“Then we will. I’ll see you one day this week.”

Brady sat in silence after the call. So someone had recognized him and tipped off the press. He’d known it could happen at any time, but as he got older and looked less like the kid he’d once been, the chance of being recognized by his face alone had seemed less likely. Yet, here he sat, staring at the end of his quiet existence in a place he’d come to love.

What would his congregation think, when the truth was revealed? Would they be convinced he’d known about Rory’s secret life, even as he stood behind the Cope pulpit and preached with the enthusiasm of youth—and, as it turned out, innocence?

He’d been too innocent, too trusting. Life and experience hadn’t yet taught him that no man is infallible. The pain of having those blinders ripped off and thrown in the dust had seared the lesson into his soul, never to be forgotten. But the gut-wrenching guilt was the heaviest burden Brady carried away from that life. Rory had used him to bring in a fresh, young audience…and from that innocent crowd, he’d found merchandise to sell into manual and sexual slavery.

Before Brady’d even had a chance to process the shock of watching his idol fall, the media swept in like a flock of hungry vultures. Thirteen years after the fact, his soul still bore scars where they’d ripped and torn pieces of him away, swallowing large chunks of his heart and soul down greedy gullets, hot with the fire of a potential sidebar to Cope’s story.

Sitting in the office he’d called his own for half a decade, Brady sighed. He needed to prepare for the coming onslaught of renewed interest. Winter wouldn’t stop searching until she uncovered everything he’d hidden from the world. She was good at what she did.

And clearly, she was a top-notch actress as well. If journalism didn’t make her a star, she could always make it big in Hollywood. He’d fallen hard and fast and given her an open door to his world. If she’d sought details on Ethan Miracle’s life after Cope Ministries, he’d made it easy for her.

Brady’s stomach lurched in protest. He closed his eyes and concentrated on taking in slow, deep breaths. When he could breathe without choking on air, he forced himself to face the distinct possibility that none of the moments they’d shared had been real. The thought soured his stomach and wrapped cruel fingers of pain around his heart.

He bounded out of the leather chair and strode to the door. Then he whirled and set off across the room in the other direction, annoyed with himself. He wasn’t a child. Playing “she loves me, she loves me not” was demeaning and depressing. No matter how many questions he asked himself, or how many times he replayed every moment they’d spent together, he simply couldn’t be certain he hadn’t played right into her plan.

And what did it matter, anyway? Even if every moment they’d shared meant as much to her as they had to him, this story would put the brakes on any chance of furthering their relationship. When Winter found out he’d been living a lie, it would all be over.

He ran a hand through his hair, covered his face, and moaned. Maybe God was delivering a scathing reminder of the scriptural stipulation on light versus darkness. The one he’d lectured himself about already. The same message he’d quoted to his parishioners over and again.

Despite his heart’s response to the woman who’d dropped out of the sky, God’s Word remained as true for him as for anyone. No. For him, it would be even more true, because as a pastor, he couldn’t bring anything less than the Light of God into his church, his home…or his heart.

With that matter settled in his soul, he headed out the door and drove straight to Paradise Pines. Not to see Winter, but to pray with someone he could confide in with no fear of a betrayal of confidence. Someone he now knew had a direct line to Heaven.





He stopped short of Miss Angie’s door, staring at the lavender envelope tucked through the handle. Apparently someone else had also come knocking without first making arrangements with the Paradise Pines Lodge hostess.

His shoulders drooped. What had he done to deserve a day like this?

He started to turn away but stopped when a sudden breeze swept around him out of nowhere. Like a feathery kiss from Heaven, the little blast of air picked up the salty tang of the ocean and brushed cool, refreshing fingers against Brady’s flushed face. Then it danced away to tease at the envelope in Miss Angie’s door handle, finally scooping it free to drop at his feet. Bemused, he stared at the delicate handwriting flowing across the lavender paper. For Ethan.

Not Brady. Not Pastor Merckle. And yet Brady didn’t doubt for an instant the note was meant for him.

Still in the grip of the Divine breeze, he picked up the envelope and returned to his vehicle. A sweep of his knife blade under the seal freed three tablet-sized sheets of paper. Brady noted the salutation and clenched his jaw. How long had she known? Always?

Ethan dear:

Sorry I’m not home to speak with you in person. I do so enjoy our chats, but unfortunately, duty called elsewhere today. However, I found some verses of scripture that will provide all the hope, strength, and insight you need regarding your current situation…if you read them with an open heart.

I know you’re aware of this, but may I remind you of something wonderful? Our Father is always home and always ready to speak with you…and to you. He’s an ever-present help in time of trouble, dear friend. He’s the One who sticks closer than a brother. He’s your Strength and your Song, your Fortress and your Strong Tower.

He is God. Talk to Him.

In Christ’s Service,

Angelina Love

Citations—minus the scripture text—filled the rest of the pages. Some he recognized at first glance and could quote off the top of his head. Hope infused Brady’s spirit, even as shame made him long to fall on his knees.

Faced with the possible revelation of the secret he’d guarded for so long, what he’d considered a firm assurance in Christ had short-circuited, undermining his faith by letting in fear. Fear of losing credibility with his congregation—and yes, the community. Fear of a possible backlash that might harm Chrysalis in some way. Fear of being a public spectacle…again.

So many fears, so little faith. Fear had blinded him to the Word hidden in his heart. He’d forgotten to rest in God’s arms and trust Him in this situation as he did in every other circumstance.

At the top of Miss Angie’s list was a longtime favorite verse.

Brady whispered the words from Isaiah 41:10 from memory, absorbing its reassuring promises. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

He scanned the next few citations and fixed on Jeremiah 29:11 as the beautiful words of the scripture came to mind in an instant. For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Peace began to replace the stranglehold of fear in his soul.

With a slight smile, he looked once again at the list of scripture texts. Miss Angie had most likely written them without once referencing her Bible for accuracy. She knew enough scripture from memory to make Brady—and most Christians his age—feel ashamed and inadequate.

A pleasant lavender aroma wafted upward when he folded the three sheets of stationery and tucked them back into the envelope. Time to go home, have a chat with God, and then bury himself in the Word. If he’d spoken face to face with Miss Angie, that’s what she’d have told him to do, just as he would have advised any parishioner in a similar situation.

As he rounded the circle drive and pulled onto the long, private road leading out of Paradise Pines, he tugged his lips into a smile for the first time since Alan’s phone call. How had Miss Angie known he’d come to her door? Brady knew the answer, of course, but the wonder of her existence here in Cambria was still difficult to take in.

Over the short time since Kai and Winter crashed into his world, the memory of Miss Angie’s glowing transformation that day had faded somewhat. Sometimes he doubted he’d seen anything at all. Perhaps his imagination had gone a little wild, there in the glade filled with equal parts sunshine and shadow, a beautiful stranger bleeding at his feet, and her brother lying pale and broken a few feet away. Maybe he’d dreamed the entire fantastic episode.

But “maybe” and “perhaps” couldn’t quite trump the fire of conviction in his heart. He’d seen what he’d seen. Miss Angie was more than a sweet woman with a gift for calming spirits and soothing troubled hearts. More than the overseer of Paradise Pines Lodge. And far more than just another member of his congregation.

His human nature still balked at stating the obvious, even to himself. If he said the words out loud, would she disappear forever? But even without verbalizing what he knew to be true, he didn’t doubt that she was special to God and knew Him on a deeply personal level. So if Miss Angie said he needed to have a heart-to-heart talk with the Master of every circumstance, then he’d go home and talk to God. If she sent him scriptures, he’d look them up—every last one, even though not one of them would prove new or unfamiliar.

Long hours spent in God’s Word had convinced Brady that it never grew old. Every time he opened the pages of his Bible, he found something with new meaning, even when reading old, familiar verses. So, despite the ache in his heart and the niggling concern that worked at the edges of his mind regarding Winter’s purpose in Cambria, he’d go home and see what God had to say about Ethan Miracle and Kalani Winter Wonder.

The short drive back to his little cabin, tucked into the wooded area behind Cambria House of Praise, seemed endless. Like a child whose exuberance made a road trip take forever, Brady’s growing need to lock the world outside and closet himself with the Lord lengthened the two-mile trip to an interminable distance. Upon arriving, he rushed into the house, eager for the familiar comfort of his Father’s Presence.

As always, Miss Angie’s advice was right on track. She’d come through yet again.