Light in the Storm. Margaret Daley
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Samuel asked Jane, his tension conveyed by his clenched jaw and frown.
His daughter lifted her shoulders in a shrug, but didn’t say a word, her head remaining turned away.
“Is there a problem I’m not aware of?” Beth saw a flash of vulnerability appear in his dark eyes before he masked the expression. It touched a part of her that over the years had seen many single parents struggle to do the job of both mother and father.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve just moved here.” He glanced at his daughter. “Jane has never adjusted well to new towns.”
“How many times have you moved?”
“This is our sixth move. I was a chaplain in the army until recently. We’re both looking forward to settling down in one place.”
“Adjusting to a new town can be tough. If Jane’s willing to work and stay after school to make up the assignments, I’ll take them late this time.”
“What do you say, Jane?” Samuel leaned forward, his hands laced together on top of the desk. His whitened knuckles indicated nothing casual in the gesture.
His daughter, silent, peered at the snow falling, as though she hadn’t heard the question.
“Jane?” A firmness entered his deep, gruff voice.
She swung her gaze to her father, her pout deepening. Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared at him, several emotions vying for dominance. Anger won out over a need to please.
“Would you rather the zeros remain on your grade?” he asked with an underlying calm that amazed Beth.
Samuel Morgan was the new reverend of Sweetwater Community Church, where she attended. It was obvious that he had a great deal of patience, if his dealings with his daughter were any indication. That was comforting to know, since Reverend Collins, their previous minister, had been beloved by all in the congregation.
Jane sighed, straightening in the desk. “If you must know, I didn’t understand a couple of the assignments.”
“Did you ask Miss Coleman for help?”
“No.”
“Jane, I’ll be glad to help you when you stay to complete the work. And for that matter, any other assignment you have trouble with. All you have to do is ask me for help. That’s part of my job.”
The teenager looked at Beth as if she thought Beth was crazy to think she was going to ask for any assistance on an assignment, especially in a class of thirty students. Beth wondered if something else was going on beneath Jane’s defiance. It wasn’t that unusual to see a teen rebel, but Beth sensed a troubled soul begging for help. She made a mental note to check with the young woman to see if she understood her homework assignments. Sometimes when a student moved a lot, she lost ground because curriculum wasn’t always the same in each school.
“Miss Coleman, Jane will stay after school every day until she has made up her work. Since I pick her up, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Beth slipped from the desk. “We can start Monday. Hopefully the weather will be clear by then.”
Samuel rose. “She’ll be here.”
Jane shoved herself out of the desk, pushing it several inches across the hardwood floor. “Maybe we’re in for a blizzard.”
“We don’t often have blizzards in Sweetwater,” Beth said with a smile. Even as a teacher she enjoyed the occasional snow day when school was canceled.
“That’s good to hear, because it sure is snowing hard now,” Samuel said, looking toward the window.
“Now, that’s something to pray about,” Jane mumbled, starting for the door.
Samuel watched his daughter leave the classroom. “Sorry about that, Miss Coleman.”
“Please call me Beth. I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I attend Sweetwater Community Church.”
His brows rose. “You do? I didn’t see you there last week.”
“I’m sorry I missed your first Sunday, but I was taking my brother to college in Louisville. He just started this semester and he had to move into the dorm.”
“Then I look forward to seeing you this Sunday.” His gaze again slid to the window. “That is, if we don’t have that blizzard my daughter is praying for.”
Beth fitted her hand in his to shake goodbye and was conscious of something else beside its firmness—a warmth. A warmth that shot up her arm and made her very aware of the man before her. The warrior impression she’d received earlier was tempered with the calmness he’d exhibited when dealing with his daughter. He gave off mixed messages, which intrigued Beth. She suspected he was more adept at listening to other people’s problems than telling anyone his.
“Tomorrow the sun will be shining. Mark my words, Reverend Morgan.”
“Hope you’re right, Miss—Beth. And please call me Samuel.” He walked toward the door, turned back and added, “I still have a lot to do to finish moving in and bad weather definitely puts a damper on things.”
Before she realized what she was really doing, Beth asked, “Can I help with anything?” The second the words were out of her mouth, she bit down on her lower lip. Her first weekend in years without any obligations, and she was volunteering to help the reverend put his house in order. When would she learn? She didn’t have to be there for everyone. It was okay to take some time for herself.
He chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I know how many papers English teachers have to grade. My children and I will get it done…if not this weekend, then the next.”
When he left, Beth walked to the window and stared at the swirling mass of white, watching for Jane and Samuel to come out the front door. When they emerged, they were quickly obscured by the blowing snow. She loved cold weather and the occasional snow they had in Sweetwater. It brought out the child she’d never been allowed to be. But this storm might be worse than she had originally thought.
Beth headed for her desk and quickly gathered those papers that the reverend had mentioned, stuffing them into her briefcase to grade over the weekend. But she promised herself as she left her classroom that she would find some time to make a snowman and give him a carrot for his nose and pieces of bark for his eyes and mouth.
After pulling her cap down over her ears and tying her wool scarf around her neck, Beth exited the school building and walked toward where she knew she had parked her white car, even though in the driving snow it wasn’t visible. Halfway to the parking lot she spied her Jeep and quickened her steps. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blue Ford Mustang with the reverend and Jane standing next to it.
Why haven’t they left? Beth wondered, and changed her destination.
“Something wrong?” she asked as she approached the pair arguing while the snow blew around them.
Samuel stopped what he was going to say to his daughter and glanced toward Beth. “I was for going back inside and getting help. Jane was for hiking home.” He gestured toward his car. “Won’t start.”
“You probably can’t get anyone out here to help right now. Every tow truck will be busy just trying to haul people out of ditches. I can give you a ride home and you can see what’s wrong with your car tomorrow—if this snow lets up.”
“You’re not going to get an argument out of me. Where are you parked?”
Beth waved her hand toward her five-year-old Jeep Cherokee. “I don’t usually have too much trouble in the snow.”
As they trudged toward the Jeep, Jane mumbled something under her breath. If her tight-lipped expression was any hint, Beth was glad she hadn’t heard what the teenager had said. When Beth reached her car, she unlocked her doors and slid inside while Jane plopped herself in the back seat and Samuel climbed into the front.