CHAPTER 3
Within days, Amber had closed their apartment in California and coordinated the move of Jesse’s belongings to her grandmother’s house. Over the next few weeks, Jesse settled into a routine. She cleaned in the mornings, spent time chatting with her grandmother and occasionally helped in flower beds. Gabriel was away most days but came home evenings. Sometimes he would invite her to relax on the front porch after dinner. Their conversations were comfortable. They talked about everything, anything—childhood memories, likes, dislikes, poetry, history and world affairs. The only topic neither raised was past romances. She enjoyed Gabriel’s company, and as the days passed, she found herself glancing at clocks, impatient for his return.
Jesse had been cooped up in the house for weeks when she decided to take matters into her own hands and invite herself along to go with Gabriel to run errands.
Pulling the front door closed behind her, she fought the impulse to run to the vehicle like an excited child. Instead, she took her time, pausing to enjoy the sweet smell of fragrant petunias before crossing the yard toward Gabriel’s vehicle
Approaching the Jeep, she smiled sweetly. “Thanks for asking me along, Gabriel.”
“Is that what happened?” he asked, returning her smile. “It sounded more like an ultimatum to me.”
With her seat-belt on, she glanced his way. “I’m sorry for threatening to go off on my own, but I’m bored. I haven’t been out since returning the rental.”
He nodded his understanding. “I know, but things have changed in the area. It’s not safe.”
She thought about recent news reports. Yes, things had changed. She turned to Gabriel. “Do you think all this weird weather is caused by global warming? I mean it’s on the news a lot lately—tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes. Some regions are in a drought, others flooding.”
"Who knows," he said, shrugging slightly. “Some blame increased solar activity, others say it's carbon dioxide emissions. I recently read that the temperature on all planets in our solar system is rising. Whatever the reason, everything happening is predicted in the Bible…wars, disease, hunger, natural disasters.”
She was about to respond but as they turned onto Oak Street, she noticed an elderly man standing in front of a small house on the corner. The man’s hands were balled into fists as he leaned forward to shout at two boys standing several feet away on the sidewalk.
“That’s Mr. Drake,” Gabriel said, pulling along the curb in front of the house. “I’ll be right back.”
As Gabriel approached, the balding man pointed at a broken window before jabbing a bent finger in the boys’ direction. After listening to the man, Gabriel walked over to talk to the boys. The conversation was brief before the boys nodded and disappeared up the street. The man’s eyes bulged before sputtering in angry disbelief, but as Gabriel talked, he began to visibly relax. Within minutes, the man’s crossed arms fell to his sides. He looked down sheepishly to scuff a foot across the grass before shaking Gabriel’s offered hand.
“Let me guess,” Jesse said as they pulled away from the curb, “those boys broke the window.”
“No, I don’t think so. Mr. Drake didn’t actually see who broke his window. John and Adam said they didn’t do it and I believe them.”
“John and Adam—you know them?”
“Yes, from church. They’re good kids.”
She was about to ask another question when a group of older boys standing near the intersection caught her attention. Whether it was suspicion or hostility in their faces, she wasn’t sure, but their menacing stares made her uneasy. She turned and was about to ask Gabriel if he recognized them when the sound of shattering glass filled the air.
Before the Jeep could brake to a stop, she was pulled against Gabriel’s side. She lifted her face from his shoulder, confused and trembling.
“They’re gone,” he said, looking back to where the teenagers had been standing.
As they turned onto a side road, she looked around at the broken glass. “What happened?”
“I think someone threw something,” he said, cutting off the engine. He looked her over before cupping her chin to turn her face from side to side. “You have a cut. I don’t think it’s too bad.”
He helped her from the Jeep before retrieving the first aid kit. His lips were set in a hard line as he applied antiseptic to a cotton swab. As the liquid touched her face, she pulled back.
“Don’t touch it,” he said, catching the hand she lifted.
She yanked her hand from his and stared at him.
His expression softened. “Did I hurt you?”
Seeing his concern, she started to shrug, to say it was okay, but she didn’t. Something stopped her—maybe the look in his eyes or her own imagination that his words went beyond the present. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t deny the truth. “Yes, Gabriel, you hurt me.” She knew the moment was important without fully understanding why. He didn’t look away, and she couldn’t.
His eyes searched hers. “I never meant to hurt you, Jesse. I’m sorry.”
She looked down during the awkward silence before nodding. “Okay,” she said, lifting her face for him to continue.
With the bandage applied, Gabriel stepped back to examine his work. “You have glass in your hair,” he said, moving closer to slide his fingers through her hair along either side of her temples. At his touch, she could feel her pulse begin to quicken and she released a pent-up breath.
With the heat of his hand resting in the curve of her neck, her eyes moved to his lips—full, smooth, perfect. What would his lips feel like on hers? She had never wanted to be kissed so badly. Her eyes drifted closed as she lifted her face, waiting, hoping.
Hearing her name, she opened her eyes.
“I need to get you home,” he said, taking a step back.
During the ride home, Jesse was too consumed with her own thoughts to notice air coming through the missing window. She stared blindly ahead, thinking about her reaction to Gabriel’s touch. The sensations were new to her. She stole a glance at Gabriel’s profile. His jaw was set and he looked tense. What was he thinking? Her eyes slammed shut. She knew what he was thinking. Undoubtedly, he was thinking about her shameless behavior just months after breaking up with the man she was engaged to marry. She had silently begged him to kiss her, but he hadn’t been tempted. Her body sagged against the seat with shame.
As they entered the living room, her grandmother’s eyes widened. The book she was reading fell to her side before she hurried across the room to inspect the large bandage. Leading Jesse toward the sofa, she looked over her shoulder at Gabriel to ask, “What happened?”
Jesse could hear the undertone of anger when he answered. “Someone threw a rock through the passenger side window.”
Her grandmother’s eyes widened with surprise. “On purpose? Does she need to go to the hospital?”
“No, the bandage makes it look worse than it is. The cut isn’t deep.” He looked from Jesse to her grandmother. “I’m sorry, Florence. I should have known it was too dangerous to take Jesse along.”
Hearing herself talked about like a child brought Jesse to her feet. “I’m fine. I’m going upstairs to take a shower and change.”
An hour later, Jesse walked into the kitchen to see her grandmother pouring two cups of tea. Setting the cups on the table, she moved to inspect the Band-Aid in front of Jesse’s ear. “Does it hurt?”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing, Grammy.” Looking around the room, she asked, “Where’s Gabriel?”
“He went to have the window replaced.”
Jesse froze. “He went back to town after what happened?”
Her grandmother’s expression turned curious. “Why are you so worried? He can take care of himself.”
“I didn’t say that I’m worried, Grammy. It’s just that—well, I’m just surprised that he would go to town.”
Jesse sat down and focused on stirring sugar into her tea. From across the table, she could feel her grandmother watching her. When she couldn’t ignore it any longer, she asked, “Why are you staring at me, Grammy? What are you thinking?”
She smiled, apparently amused. “Well, now, maybe I’m thinking about things that are none of my business.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “My favorite news show is coming on. Let’s go watch.”
Jesse trailed reluctantly behind her grandmother to the living room. Her voice bordered on whining. “The news is depressing, Grammy. Let’s watch an old movie instead. You like those.”
Her grandmother sat down on the sofa and picked up the remote. “It’s important to keep up with what’s going on in the world. Of course, that’s hard to do nowadays. Some news stations care more about telling you what to think than telling you what happened.” Her chin lowered slightly as she looked up at Jesse to say, “And I think we know who controls most of the media these days.”
Taking a seat, Jesse considered her grandmother’s comment. She had no idea who controls the media. She’d never questioned who decides which stories to cover, how it’s presented or whether newscasters might have their own agenda. Her grandmother seemed to know who made the decisions but she had no idea.
Hearing soft laughter, she turned to her grandmother. “What’s so funny, Grammy?”
She looked at the remote in her hand. “Do you know that yesterday I spent twenty minutes looking for this remote. I kept telling myself, just turn the television on and forget it. But I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t stand not knowing where that remote was.” Sighing, she shook her head. “I guess I’ve gotten spoiled like everyone else. Remotes, computers, cell phones—I would have never dreamed of such stuff when I was a child.”
Jesse tried to imagine what life would be like without modern appliances and electronics. Life must have been harder but much simpler when her grandmother was a child. She snuggled in against her grandmother’s side, thankful to be in a safe place with family. Nestled in the mountains on hundreds of acres that butted up against the Cherokee National Forest on two sides, her grandmother’s house was as safe as any. She could still remember when half the town would come to her grandmother’s house for cookouts. Parents walked trails to take in spectacular views of mountains while children fished trout streams and splashed in freshwater ponds.
Feeling her grandmother stiffen at her side, Jesse followed her gaze to words scrolling across the bottom of the television. Christians under attack. Sitting up, she focused on the newscaster. “Today, officials for the United Nations denounced intolerance and violence against Christians around the world while here in the U.S., hostility toward Christians is a growing concern. With reports of attacks targeting specific groups on the rise, authorities fear violence may spread. Statements made by some Christian fundamentalists suggesting natural calamities and economic problems afflicting the world are God’s judgment have sparked backlash against some in the Christian community.”
The scene flashed to an angry crowd demonstrating outside a large Christian church. Throughout the unruly mob, several could be seen throwing rocks and making obscene gestures. A young man with several facial piercings pushed his way toward the filming crew to stab a finger at the camera. His face twisted with rage before a string of censoring beeps ensued. The word Christian could be heard throughout the broken tirade. Jesse stared in horror at the man’s engorged veins and snarling, red face. He was still shouting into the camera when the picture switched back to the newscaster.
Snapping her mouth shut, the reporter shuffled papers before continuing. “Negative sentiment toward Christians continues to mount around the world and even here in the United States. With understaffed law enforcement agencies already overwhelmed with an increasing crime rate, some have voiced concerns about protection for Christians. One well-known Christian leader recently made national headlines by condemning the government’s lack of response to reports of violence against Christians in the Southwest.”
The reporter’s voice grew distant as Jesse began to grasp the implication of what she was hearing. This couldn’t be happening. What would they do?
“Grammy, did you hear what’s happening to Christians?”
Her grandmother seemed unaffected. “I heard.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
She smiled. “No, Jesse, I’m not afraid. The Lord is my refuge, my fortress. In Him I will trust.”
Bewildered, Jesse stared at her grandmother. Didn’t she understand what was happening? Didn’t she appreciate the danger they might be in if violence spread?
Getting up from the sofa, Jesse went to look out the window. “Gabriel should have been home already.”
Without taking her eyes off the television, her grandmother said, “Gabriel can take care of himself.”
Worry whipped Jesse around. “A stranger tried to take my head off today for no apparent reason. Anything could happen to him.”
The television screen went dark before her grandmother turned to stare at Jesse in silence.
Regretting her tone, Jesse was quick to apologize. “I’m sorry, Grammy. I’m just worried, I guess. You know, Gabriel and I, well, we grew up together and…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes fixed on the telephone. Crossing the room, she mentally rationalized the call she was about to make. Under the circumstances, she would check on any friend.
A few minutes later, she replaced the handset. “Gabriel’s not answering his phone.”
Without looking up from the book she was now reading, her grandmother said, “Maybe he’s out of range or his phone needs to be recharged. It could be anything.”
Could be anything, the words repeated in Jesse's mind. Her grandmother was right, it could be anything—accident, assault, attacked by a gang of criminals. Images of shattering glass and an enraged man screaming into the camera flashed through Jesse’s mind. She went to the window to stare out. Yes, it could be anything.
Jesse checked the clock over the mantle. Only eleven minutes had passed since she last checked. She watched her grandmother turn a page before asking, "Do you remember what time Gabriel left the house?”
She looked up, thinking. "He's been gone about five hours.”
Forcing a smile, she thanked her grandmother before turning back to stare at the clock. She watched the second hand crawl around the circle, amazed at how slow it was.
By the time Jesse saw headlights pulling into the drive, she was literally sick with worry. Seeing Gabriel get out of the Jeep, she raced down the steps and into his arms. “I thought something happened to you,” she said, bursting into tears.
He led her up the front steps and they sat down on the porch swing. Gathering her in his arms, his voice was calming. “Jesse, I’m fine. Everything is alright.”
“No,” she said miserably, her wet face moving against his shoulder, “it’s not alright. That man—his face, and you didn’t answer...” The fabric of his shirt knotted in her closing hand as she dissolved into tears again.
When she quieted, he said, “I’m sorry you worried. I was in town before I realized I didn’t have my phone with me.” His hand moved soothingly across her back. “You don’t have to worry about me, Jesse. God is my protector.”
Wiping away tears, she tried to pull herself together. “I know I shouldn’t worry, but like I told Grammy,” she said, sniffing, “we grew up together and—well, we did grow up together.”
He smiled. “That’s true. We did grow up together.”
The world was falling apart around them, but she felt safe in Gabriel’s arms. His quiet strength comforted her. They rocked in silence for some time before he asked, “Are you cold?”
“No,” she murmured, distracted, wondering what he must think of her, acting hysterical and crying. She bit her lower lip, thinking she should at least try to explain her behavior. “You know, I’m not usually so emotional. I think everything that’s happened today just pushed me over the edge.”
She felt his chest move with soft laughter. “So, you weren’t just overwrought with concern for my safety? We did grow up together, you know.”
She tapped his chest with her open hand. “I can’t believe you’d tease me after the day I’ve had.”
Standing, he held out a hand. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
In the living room, Jesse looked around. “I wonder where Grammy is.”
“I’d say she’s upstairs praying,” he said. He gave Jesse’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before excusing himself and leaving the room. Watching him walk toward the stairs, she knew where he was going. He would join her grandmother in the glory room. That’s what her grandmother called her prayer room. As a child, she had occasionally crept into the room when her grandmother wasn’t around. She had always been fascinated by the handwritten Bible verses covering the walls and the large wooden cross. She bit her lower lip, thinking, before starting for the stairs. A prayer couldn’t hurt.
The shimmering purple fabric hanging from the cross caught Jesse’s attention as she entered the room. Purple represents kingship, and Jesus is King of kings, her grandmother once said. Walking forward, she knelt in front of the cross between Gabriel and her grandmother. She tried to push fear aside and focus on a higher power. If there was a God, she wanted to talk to Him about the dismal state of human affairs. The world was going mad and they needed help.
Jesse spent twenty minutes in front of the cross with no results. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of God. The concept was just too vague. At the door, she looked back at her grandmother and Gabriel. They were still praying to the God she couldn’t envision.
------------------------------------
Waking from a fitful sleep, Jesse sniffed the air. Is that cinnamon? She inhaled deeply. The smell was familiar—cinnamon, sweet. Ah, her grandmother’s homemade cinnamon buns.
Pausing in the kitchen doorway, Jesse watched her grandmother tap a foot lightly in time with the merry tune she hummed while icing cinnamon rolls. Seeing Jesse, she smiled. “Nothing like waking up to the smell of fresh cinnamon in the morning, huh, Jesse?”
“Mm-hm,” Jesse murmured, eyeing her grandmother as she crossed the room to the coffee pot. Her grandmother’s hair was caught up in a neat French twist and her face looked as lively as the colorful dress she wore. She looked relaxed, happy, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Leaning back against the counter, Jesse took a sip of coffee while continuing to watch her grandmother. Wasn’t she troubled by last night’s news? She didn’t look concerned.
When her grandmother noticed she was being watched, Jesse lifted her cup. “Can I pour you a cup of coffee, Grammy? “
“Why, yes,” she said, cheerfully. “Just set it on the table. I’ll be over in a minute.”
On her way around the table, her grandmother paused to examine Jesse’s face. “I don’t see any bruising or swelling.” Sitting down opposite Jesse, she laughed. “I tell you, child, I almost fell over when you walked in. I didn’t know what was under that bandage. And the look on Gabriel’s face—I just didn’t know what to think.”
“It’s nothing, Grammy," Jesse said, shrugging it off.
She looked at Jesse curiously. “You look troubled. Didn’t you sleep well?”
Jesse’s brows arched in surprise. “Of course, I’m troubled. You saw that man on the news last night. Everything is a mess. People are mad, looking for someone to blame for everything going on. But still, I can’t believe Christians are being attacked. Do you know what that could mean?”
Her grandmother nodded. “You’re right. Tough times brings out the best in some and the worst in others, but what’s going on with Christians isn’t surprising.”
Jesse nearly choked on her coffee. “Not surprising? Well, it certainly surprised me. No—no, I wasn’t just surprised, I was shocked. People are being physically attacked because of words, what they believe.” She leaned forward to emphasize the next sentence. “In the United States of America, Grammy. You know, land of the free, home of the brave where freedom of religion and speech are celebrated.”
“I understand what you’re saying, Jesse. A lot of people are shocked, but not everyone. Bible reading Christians shouldn’t be surprised by anything happening today. We’ve been warned through Scripture and even modern-day prophets.”
“Prophets,” Jesse muttered under her breath. She wouldn’t start down that path but she did wonder what her grandmother meant. She knew what her own reaction might be if someone claimed to hear the voice of God revealing the future. Under diagnostic impression, she would write, psychotic.
Her grandmother stared across the room. “God’s remedy for sin isn’t sickness or natural disasters, it’s Jesus. No one knows the day or hour of our Lord’s return, but we know it’s getting close. The kingdom, the power and glory belong to God.”
The discussion was beginning to make Jesse uncomfortable. She tried to be a good person, be sensitive to other cultures and religion. Wasn’t that enough? Living with her grandmother and Gabriel made it impossible to ignore the question that she had managed to evade all her life. Does God exist? Her grandmother and Gabriel were certain of it. She wouldn’t offend them by asking, but she would really like to know what they based their belief on. What made them so sure they were right? They had no concrete proof. No one did. Did they base everything, their whole life, on one book written by men? She might like to know, but she wasn’t about to insult her grandmother by asking. For now, she would change the subject. “Hey, Grammy, let’s go watch the news.”
Her grandmother looked back at her, surprised. “You want to watch the news?”
Jesse smiled. “I would love to watch the news.”
About to sit down on the sofa, Jesse stopped. “Grammy, did you hear that? It sounds like someone’s here.”
“I did hear something. It’s probably just Gabriel coming back from town.”
From the front porch, Jesse looked out to see a white SUV and Gabriel’s Jeep in the drive. She watched Gabriel move around to the passenger side of the Jeep before long legs swung from the open door. The woman that emerged stood almost eye level with Gabriel in unbelievably high heels. When she turned, Jesse blinked in surprise at her fully exposed back. The material of the backless, yellow halter dress fell in a sway just below the woman’s hips.
With her eyes riveted on Gabriel and his guest, Jesse didn’t notice the woman nearing the porch. “Well, now, I know who you are,” said the ample woman puffing up the front steps. Before Jesse could form a reply, soft arms pulled her forward to be thoroughly squeezed and patted on the back. Cheerful blue eyes looked Jesse over from arm’s length. “I’d say you’re as pretty as a picture, but you’re even prettier.” At Jesse’s blank expression, she announced, “I’m Emma Rose.”
Quickly searching her memory, Jesse smiled, relieved to recognize the name. “Emma, yes, of course, Grammy’s friend. Grammy talks about you all the time. She says you’re a wonderful cook.”
Emma’s face brightened at the compliment. “We all know Florence is the real cook in these parts, but I don’t guess I need to tell you that.”
While Emma talked, Jesse nodded. “Mm-hm,” she said, distracted by the four people at the end of the walk within the scope of her side vision. The leggy blonde was tall enough to drape an arm across Gabriel’s shoulder while he talked to an older couple. The woman was clearly more than a casual acquaintance.
“Florence told me all about you,” Emma said, chatting gaily as she took Jesse’s arm to pull her toward the front door where her grandmother waited. “I’ve seen all your pictures. That’s why I said you’re prettier than a picture.”
When Emma freed her arm to hug her grandmother, Jesse stole a quick look over her shoulder to see Gabriel escorting the willowy woman up the walk.
Jesse plastered a smile on her face during the greetings before excusing herself to get coffee for their guests. Within minutes, her grandmother came through the kitchen door. “Grammy,” Jesse said in a hushed voice, “why didn’t you tell me we were having company? I would have changed,” she said, gesturing down at her college T-shirt and worn jeans.
Shrugging innocently, her grandmother said, “I didn’t know, but you can run upstairs and change now if you like.”
Jesse stared at her grandmother. “They’ve already seen me. I can’t change now. They’ll think that I changed to make a better impression.”
Her grandmother looked confused. “Isn’t that why you want to change?”
“Well, sure, but I don’t want them to—oh, never mind.”
Jesse had just filled the last cup and restarted the coffeemaker when Emma’s head popped around the doorway. “Need a hand?”
Her grandmother waved Emma in. “Come on in here, Emma. We can always use your help.”
Emma bustled across the floor with an eager smile. “What can I do?”
Looking around the room, her grandmother noticed the tray of cups Jesse filled. “It looks like the coffee’s ready.”
Jesse was quick to say, “Oh, no, Grammy, that may be too heavy for Emma. I’ll take those in.”
Emma was at the counter before Jesse could move. “Why, it’s as light as horse feathers,” she said, easily picking up the tray to prove her point.
After Emma left the room, Jesse moved to the kitchen island to watch her grandmother stir icing. “Emma seems really nice.”
“Oh, she is,” her grandmother said. “Emma’s a dear. She came here a little over six years ago to take care of her sister. Do you remember Martha Tidwell?”
“Martha Tidwell…” Jesse repeated the name, thinking. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Well, Martha was a lovely woman, but sickly, bless her heart. We lost Martha three years ago, but Emma stayed on.” She shook her head sadly. “Poor Emma, she really loved her sister.”
Jesse shook her head sadly. “I bet that was a tough time. Does Emma have other family?”
Her grandmother smiled. “Oh, sure, Emma has lots of family, the church, but no blood relatives.” Struck by a thought, her grandmother paused with the dripping spatula hovering over the bowl. “I guess if you think about it, Emma does have blood relatives. The whole church is related by blood.”
Hoping to steer the conversation away from religion, Jesse was quick to say, “That’s good. People need friends and support when they’re grieving.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about Emma,” she said, turning to place the bowl and spatula into the sink. “She has plenty of friends.” She held up the plate of freshly iced cinnamon buns. “Now, if you’ll fix a tray and take these, I’ll wash up and be right in.”
Gabriel met Jesse just inside the living room door. He reached out to take the tray but stopped. “May I help you with that, Jesse?”
Seeing his look of amusement, she knew he was recalling the last time he took a plate from her hands without asking. She offered a knowing smile. “Why, yes, you may. Thank you for asking.”
After placing the tray on the coffee table, he came back to her side. “Jesse, let me introduce you to everyone.” He turned to the couple to their right. “You may remember Charles and Victoria Swinney. They own Swinney’s Market on Oakdale and have been with the church several years.”
Mr. Swinney stood as Jesse stepped forward to shake their hands. “Yes,” Jesse said, “I do remember you both. You visited my grandmother when I was here for summer breaks. It’s good to see you again.”
Stepping back to Gabriel’s side, Jesse followed his gaze across the room to Emma. “I believe Emma introduced herself already,” Gabriel said, smiling fondly at the woman.
Jesse returned Emma’s wave. “Yes, we met earlier.”
Turning to the woman on the small sofa to their left, Jesse made a conscious effort to keep the smile on her face while Gabriel introduced Rachel Swinney, Charles and Victoria’s daughter. The aloof face watching her from across the room looked vaguely familiar, but Jesse couldn’t quite place her. Jesse stepped forward to shake hands. “You look familiar, Rachel, but I’m not sure we’ve met.”
“I don’t remember meeting you, either, but I know I’ve been here before.” She pursed red lips, thinking. “Oh, now I remember. Gabriel brought me here once, years ago.” She cast a quick smile at Gabriel. “A girl doesn’t forget the first time she rides alone in a car with a boy.”
Jesse froze. The words, Gabriel’s got a girlfriend, sprang to mind. She looked back at Gabriel to see him watching them. Fighting to maintain her composure, she forced a smile. “That—that was such a long time ago. If we didn’t meet then, it’s good to meet you now, Rachel.”
“Yeah, you too,” Rachel said, looking bored
Making the stiff walk back to Gabriel’s side, Jesse mentally rummaged for any pretext to leave the room. She was about to excuse herself to check on her grandmother when she felt Gabriel’s arm slip around her waist. “You already know Jesse is Florence’s granddaughter, but you may not know that she’s a psychotherapist. She’s written several papers published by respected journals. I found her articles on abnormal psychology particularly thought-provoking.”
Surprised, Jesse