A Kingsbury Collection

  “No!” Jordan had to work to keep from shouting as anger and fear fought for position in his heart. “I’ve been talking to Jesus every day about you, Mom. You’re going to get better!”

  She reached out and took his hand in hers. Even now Jordan remembered how weak her grip was. “I want you to take care of Heidi, okay? And one day we’ll all be together again … in heaven.”

  Jordan shook his head, raw terror strangling him as he fought the truth with every breath in his body. “No, Mom! God wouldn’t do that. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Jordan, it’s time you knew the—”

  “No!” He was on his feet, angry with her for reasons he didn’t even understand. “Don’t talk that way, Mom.”

  Without waiting for her response, he ran outside and climbed on his bike. Five minutes later he was on his knees, weeping at the foot of the Jesus statue. “Don’t take her away from us, Lord, please. I’ll do anything You want. I’ll quit baseball or stop spending time with Faith. I’ll do more chores and get better grades in school. Please, Lord … just let her live, please!”

  Faith must have heard the same thing from her mother that night because she went looking for him. Thirty minutes later she showed up at the park and gently fell on the ground beside him. She wrapped her fingers around his and hung her head, sobbing softly alongside him. There were no words between them that night, only tears as they both raised their silent voices to God and begged Him to save Jordan’s mother’s life.

  A wave of nausea came over Jordan now as he remembered how bad things had gotten after that, how terrified Heidi became at the thought of losing their mother, how she’d started to stutter because of the fear that welled within her. And most of all how their mother had suffered …

  Suddenly the memories were more than Jordan could take. He took a deep breath and let go of all the images except one … him and Faith in this very park, fingers linked as they prayed for his mother.

  What do you think of your Jesus now, Faith?

  The thought filled his mind and anchored there. What could she possibly feel but disillusionment? Jesus had taken his mother, her father … and left Jordan and Faith grieving for the people they loved. He tried to picture Faith, wondering what she might look like now, what hand life had dealt her. And whether sometimes, when the leaves turned in the fall as they were about to do in a few weeks, she remembered kneeling beside him at Jericho Park and holding hands with a boy who was her very closest friend.

  He stared at the statue, the outstretched arms and passionate eyes, and he was filled with an overwhelming, growing sense of purpose. Coming to see the statue, praying to Jesus every night … none of it had done any good. Not for Jordan or his mother. The words on the inscription, the statue’s very presence, all of it implied promises that had nothing to do with reality. If there was a God, then He’d let Jordan down in his greatest hour of need. Certainly the same had to be true for other children in Bethany, children who had grown up in the shadow of this stone memorial to deception.

  Well … no more. This was a public park, after all. A place where people had the right to laugh and run and play without being confronted with a fairy-tale Jesus who only pretended to care.

  Jordan stood and made his way back to his car. He didn’t need to look over the briefs. He knew the legalities so well he could recite them in his sleep. Before he pulled away, he saw three children skip toward the statue and stop near it’s base. In obvious wonder they stared up at the stony face, pointing and talking amongst each other.

  He wanted to shout at them, warn them against putting their faith in a God who would take away everything that mattered in a boy’s life—his closest friend, his sister, and his mother. Jordan worked the muscles in his jaw as he checked traffic, pulled onto Main Street, and headed toward the courthouse.

  It was just before two o’clock; there was no time to waste. The lawsuit had to be filed before another hour passed.

  The statue had to go.

  7

  At just after two o’clock that day, Charles and Heidi Benson pulled up in front of Jericho Park and killed the engine. “There it is.” Heidi stared across the grass at the old play area and scanned the grounds until her eyes fell on the Jesus statue. “We used to play here every day.”

  Charles glanced at the clock and shrugged. “We have time. Wanna walk for a bit?”

  “Good idea.” Heidi patted her rounded abdomen. “It’ll be a long drive home and the last thing I need is leg cramps.”

  They climbed out and Charles came up alongside her, tenderly taking her hand in his as they started walking. “So … do you think you could live here again?”

  Heidi gazed out across the park. They’d taken the day off so Charles could interview at a medical clinic in the newest part of Bethany. He’d been working out of a busy office near downtown Philadelphia for two years—ever since finishing medical school. Now, with the baby on the way, they’d agreed it would be nice to get out of the city.

  But Bethany …

  Heidi sighed. “I have mixed feelings.”

  Charles was quiet as they walked, allowing Heidi to remember life the way it had been when she last lived in this same small town. She’d told him how she and Jordan and their mother had shared a house not far from the park, how the days before their mother got sick were little more than a happy blur. It was what happened afterward that made it hard to come back, hard to walk in the very park where they’d played back when each day seemed more charmed than the last.

  Their mother died when Heidi was ten, and afterward someone from the state stepped in. Heidi held the memories at bay and watched a boy about twelve years old pushing his little sister on the swings. The two laughed as only children can …

  That had been Jordan and her back then, hadn’t it? Happy and sure that their time together would never end?

  “You okay?” Charles bent his head so she could hear his words, soft and filled with concern.

  “Just thinking … ” She looked up, conveying with her eyes the fact that she needed this time, needed to remember again what had happened that year. At first she and Jordan had lived alone with the help of their neighbors … Mosely or Moss … Moses … something like that. But after a few weeks the state intervened, and she and Jordan were sent to separate foster homes.

  She could still hear her brother’s voice, see him standing there before her, tears streaming down his face as the people from Social Services waited to take them away in two different cars. “We won’t be apart for long, Heidi, I promise. Just until they can find us a home where we can live together … ”

  There was no forgetting the way she’d clung to him that day, knowing he was all she had left in the world.

  “Don’t let me go, Jordan. Please!”

  He had shaken his head, placing his finger to her lips. “Shh … it’s okay. You can call me whenever you need me. We’ll be together soon, you have to believe that.”

  But it hadn’t turned out that way. She stayed in one foster home for a week and then was transferred to another. Even now she remembered asking about her brother but getting only vague answers in response. “It’s difficult to place siblings your age,” one social worker told her. “We’re doing our best.”

  Then one day she overheard her foster parents talking. Something about Jordan running away and getting locked up at a boys’ camp. Before they could finish Heidi burst into the room, screaming. “I want to see Jordan! He doesn’t belong in a camp, he belongs with me.”

  She was so upset at the thought of losing her brother that she threw a tantrum, screaming at the top of her lungs, her fists flailing. The next day she was transferred to a foster home across the state. Four weeks later her foster parents, the Morands, sat her down.

  “There’s been an accident at the camp where Jordan lives.” Mr. Morand took her hands in his. Heidi remembered liking the Morands from the beginning. They were kind and gentle and somehow in their presence the tragedies she’d suffered seemed bea
rable.

  Now though, her young heart raced with fear. “An accident?”

  Mrs. Morand nodded. “An underground cavern collapsed and many of the boys were killed, Heidi.”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. Not Jordan … not her brother … “What … what about Jordan?”

  “Honey, I’m sorry. He was one of the ones inside and he—”

  “No! He would have gotten out. He’s bigger than other boys and strong. He never would have died in there!”

  The Morands held her close and let her sob away her grief long into the night as they stroked her hair and comforted her. Something Mrs. Morand said that night stuck with Heidi even to this day. “He’s with your mother now … taking care of her in heaven until you can all be there together.”

  Now Heidi stared sadly at the Jesus statue. Once her family had come to believe in Christ, the statue had always been a beacon of hope. Her foster mother’s words had been true; they had to be. And they were the only reason she survived that time at all.

  A year later, the Morands adopted Heidi and raised her in a suburb north of Pittsburgh, where over time she was finally able to put the tragedies of her childhood behind her. The Morands loved her as if she were their own daughter, and in their care Heidi flourished. She was active in high school—involved in tennis and track. Her senior year at her church’s fall kickoff she met Charles, a new boy whose family had just moved to town.

  She and Charles dated through college and married before he started med school. Now they wanted a quiet place where Charles could practice medicine and they could raise their family. A place not too far from the Morands. When Charles got word that the clinic in Bethany was looking to hire a pediatrician, the two of them scheduled a day trip and he arranged an interview.

  “They want me,” Charles had told her when he found her in the hospital cafeteria after the interview.

  She threw her arms around his neck and squealed. “I knew it.”

  “I can start November 1.”

  “Honey, I’m so proud of you.” It was true. Charles was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man. He took care of her the way … well, the way Jordan had when she was a little girl. She could hardly wait to have their baby and set up house wherever he got a job. Even in the town that harbored all her childhood memories.

  Charles interrupted her thoughts. “Everything looks good to me, the offer, the hospital … the community.” He slowed his steps and faced her. “I guess it’s up to you. Whether you can be happy here or not.”

  Tears clouded Heidi’s vision and she swallowed hard. “It makes me wish Jordan had lived. That we could have stayed close and somehow … I don’t know … maybe been adopted together.” She walked a few more steps, and he fell in beside her, silent, waiting for her to continue.

  “My parents told me they would have adopted Jordan too. If he hadn’t … ” Even after so many years it was hard for her to picture her strapping brother, buried beneath tons of earth in the camp accident. Wouldn’t he have found a way out? Couldn’t he have heard it coming and run for daylight before it was too late? But her thoughts went unspoken.

  “I like to think of him the way your adoptive mom does … up there in heaven taking care of your mother until you can all be together again.” Charles put his arm around her shoulders and held her close.

  A single tear made it’s way down Heidi’s cheeks. “Me too. But I still miss him.”

  There were questions in Charles’s eyes and Heidi understood. If she felt this way now, just walking near the Jesus statue, would it be impossible for her to live in Bethany? To walk the streets daily where she and Jordan once lived? To take their children to Jericho Park—a place where she and her brother once played?

  Heidi sighed. “It’s in the past, Charles.” Her voice was quiet, choked by emotion. “I have you now … our life is everything I’ve ever wanted.” She hugged him again. “I can do this. I can live here, raise our family here.” She kissed him as two more tears fell onto her cheeks. “Call them and tell them yes.”

  8

  The Monday night newscast was always busier than most because with it came the weekend wrap-up, stories that covered not only that day’s events but also any loose ends from Saturday and Sunday. By the time Faith left the soundstage at just before midnight, she was exhausted in more ways than one.

  She’d called the Social Services department earlier that day, and though the piece on Rosa had appeared several times during daytime broadcasts, not a single person had called about her. Is there no one for hen God?

  I have appointed you far this, my daughter.

  Faith made her way through the station’s back corridors toward the rear parking lot. What had God appointed her for? Getting the news out about Rosa? If that was the case, why hadn’t anyone called? At age six, she was a sweet-natured child, but give her three or four more years in foster care and Rosa was bound to grow jaded. The innocent faith that lit up her countenance would certainly grow cold in light of the truth that no one wanted her.

  I’d adopt her myself if I wasn’t single. The thought simmered in Faith’s heart like an overcooked vegetable. It was true, wasn’t it? She’d go through the process, work with the system and make Rosa her own daughter if only her personal life wasn’t so uncertain. But Rosa needed a father, too … a real family.

  I will supply all your needs. Wait for the appointed time.

  Faith had no idea what that meant but she was sure of the message, felt it resonate deep within her soul. And for reasons she didn’t understand, the holy whispers sent a ray of hope through her. If God said it would all work out, then somehow—against the odds—it would. For Rosa and for herself.

  She pushed the heavy metal door open and was met by an icy wind. The parking lot was dark and she moved quickly, pulling her jacket close as she stared into the starry sky. Fall had arrived, all right. And with it the promise of colder day’s ahead. Football weather, really. Her father’s favorite time of year.

  “Faith … ”

  The male voice came at her from across the parking lot and it stopped her in her tracks. She backed up a few steps toward the building, staring into the darkness until she saw the shape of a man about twenty yards away. Her heart pounded. Was it a fan? A stalker? She didn’t recognize the voice—and suddenly realized how vulnerable she was.

  “Who is it?” She continued taking steps back toward the station door, determined to alert security before she became the victim of an attack. “Come into the light.”

  “Don’t be afraid, Faith.” The man took three slow steps into a circle of brightness that came from one of the station windows. “It’s me. Jordan.”

  Faith felt her knees go weak. It couldn’t be … “Jordan who?”

  Step by step he moved closer, and Faith’s breath caught in her throat as she made out his face. It wasn’t possible, but it was him; her childhood friend … the boy who’d asked her to marry him the summer they were just thirteen. He was a man now, tall and dark with looks that likely stopped women in their tracks. His designer suit suggested he had done well for himself, and Faith was flooded with feelings she couldn’t quite decipher. Whatever they were, she was glad for the darkness, glad he couldn’t see the heat she felt in her cheeks. “Jordan Riley? How in the world did you find me?”

  “I was in town … on business.” He smiled, and there it was. The same eyes and grin he’d had as a teenager. It was Jordan, all right. Without giving it another thought, she came to him and hugged him.

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” She pulled back and looked at him. “Who told you I was here?”

  “I went to your old house. A Mr. Joe Cooper told me you were a big star now doing the news for WKZN.” Jordan grinned again, his eyes twinkling. “You looked beautiful tonight, Faith.”

  “You saw me?” Was she dreaming? Was this really Jordan Riley standing here, talking to her after so many years? To think he’d come into town and seen her on the news that night …


  “I watched you for five minutes and I knew I had to see you in person. I have a few meetings tomorrow, then it’s back to New York, so tonight was my only chance. I thought I’d surprise you.”

  How long had it been? What was he doing now? Was he married? And what had happened to his sister, Heidi? A hundred questions shouted for Faith’s attention, and she tried to think of which was most important. “So, tell me about yourself … what’ve you been doing?”

  Jordan put his hands in his pocket and studied her. “It’s so good to see you, Faith. You have no idea … ” He hesitated, glancing around. “Can we get coffee somewhere, sit and talk a bit?”

  Faith shrugged. “Sure. My mom’s visiting her sister in Chicago, so she won’t notice if I’m late.”

  Jordan looked at her strangely. “Your mom? I thought … aren’t you married?”

  A short laugh escaped Faith’s freezing lips. “Definitely not.”

  He tossed his hands in the air and laughed. “Well, me, neither. I guess that means it’s a date.”

  Faith’s heart soared at Jordan’s words and she stepped back, surprised at herself. What was she feeling, an attraction? To Jordan? After so many years had gone by? She chided herself for letting her imagination get away with her. They’d been kids back then, after all. This was nothing more than an old friend checking up on her.

  He angled his head, his eyes locked on hers. “So … not married, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Long story?”

  “Very.”

  Jordan took a few steps back toward his car. “I’ll follow you.”

  Faith led him to a twenty-four-hour diner in the heart of Bethany, a place for people who worked the night shift or needed a quiet moment alone in the still of the early morning hours. When they were seated at a booth, Faith again felt the familiar draw to him. Just as she’d felt it all those years ago …