Dream a Little Dream by Susan Elizabeth Phillips
"You go on," Gabe said. "Rachel and I have someone we need to see."
Ethan wasn't pleased. "I really don't think that's a good idea."
"Don't worry about it, all right?"
A muscle ticked in Ethan's jaw. She knew he wanted to lash out at her, but overt hostility wasn't in his nature. He rubbed his knuckles over the top of Edward's head. "See you later, pal."
Edward looked deeply unhappy as Ethan moved way. He had been separated from the man he idolized, and his day was spoiled.
She took his hand. "I'm afraid your cotton candy's ruined. Do you want another one?"
Gabe jammed both hands into his pockets, and his scowl made it easy to read his mind. He thought she should be punishing Edward for deliberately dropping the cotton candy instead of rewarding him, but Gabe didn't understand everything her son had been through.
"No," he whispered.
Just then Kristy came up next to them. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with an air of excitement. "You'll never believe this, but I have a date tonight. Mike Reedy asked me to go out to dinner with him. I've known him for years, but… I can't believe I said yes." Kristy had barely gotten her news out before her brow began to furrow as uncertainty poked into her excitement. "I probably shouldn't have. I'll be so nervous I won't be able to think of a thing to say."
Before Rachel could try to reassure her, Gabe wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her quick hug.
"That's one of the best things about you, Kristy. Men like to talk, and you're a good listener."
"Really?"
"Mike's a great guy. The two of you'll have a good time. Just don't let him get too fresh on the first date."
Kristy stared up at him and then flushed. "As if anybody'd get fresh with me."
"Exactly the kind of attitude that can leave a woman barefoot and pregnant."
Kristy laughed, and the three of them chatted for a few more minutes before she excused herself to check out the church's white-elephant booth. Rachel noticed she'd waited until Ethan left to go over there.
"I want to go home now." Edward looked sulky and unhappy.
"Not quite yet, honey. There's someone I need to see first." She put herself between Gabe and Edward and began walking toward the concessions.
They passed the large charcoal grills the Rotary had set up to roast corn on the cob, then went by the Art Guild's popcorn concession.
"Gabe!" A thin, bushy-haired man who was soliciting funds for the Humane Society moved out from behind his table.
"Hello, Carl." Gabe walked toward him, but Rachel sensed he did it reluctantly. She and Edward followed.
Carl regarded her with curiosity but no particular hostility, so she knew he hadn't been associated with the Temple. The two men exchanged pleasantries, then Carl got to the point.
"We sure could use a vet at the shelter, Gabe. Last week we lost a two-year-old Doberman to bloat because Ted Hartley couldn't get over here in time from Brevard."
"Sorry about that, Carl, but I'm not licensed in North Carolina."
"I guess the Doberman wouldn't have cared too much about the paperwork."
Gabe shrugged. "I might not have been able to save him anyway."
"I know, but you'd have tried. We need a local vet. I always thought it was a shame you didn't come back to Salvation to practice."
Gabe deliberately changed the subject. "My drive-in's opening on Friday night. We're having fireworks and free admission. I hope you'll show up with your family."
"I'll be sure and do that."
They moved on, passing a table selling T-shirts for muscular dystrophy. The crowd jostled her, and she lost Edward's hand.
Someone bumped against her back, and she lurched into Gabe. He caught her arm as she righted herself. She glanced around, but saw nothing suspicious.
Edward stayed nearby, but he didn't take her hand again. It was as if he wanted to put as much distance as he could between Gabe and himself. Ahead, she saw a table covered with platters of baked goods, and, behind it, Carol Dennis unpacking a plate of iced brownies.
"There she is."
"I remember Carol when she was younger," Gabe said. "She was a sweet girl before she got so religious."
"Ironic, isn't it, what religion does to people?"
"I guess it's more ironic what people do to religion."
Carol looked up. Her hands stilled on the box of Saran Wrap she was holding, and Rachel saw all the old accusations form in her eyes. Rachel knew how unpleasant Carol could be and wished Edward weren't with her. At least he was lagging behind.
As she and Gabe moved nearer, Rachel decided everything about Carol was too sharp. The contrast between her pale skin and dyed black hair made her look brittle. Her cheekbones poked out at knifelike angles, her pointed chin lengthened an already long face, and her short, angular hairstyle was too severely cut to be flattering. She was thin and tense, as if all the softness had been leached out of her. Rachel remembered her sullen teenage son and felt a stab of pity for both of them.
"Hello, Carol."
"What are you doing here?"
"I needed to speak with you."
Carol glanced at Gabe, and Rachel sensed her uncertainty. She must feel compassion for him, but she wouldn't be able to forgive the way he was consorting with the enemy.
"I can't imagine what we need to talk about." Her expression grew less harsh as Edward came around from behind Rachel to stand at her side. "Hello there, Edward. Would you like a cookie? I think we have one to spare here."
She picked up a white plastic plate. Edward studied the contents, then selected a large sugar cookie dusted with red sprinkles. "Thank you."
Rachel took a deep breath and plunged in. "I'm looking for something that I think you might have."
"Oh?"
"Dwayne's Bible."
Surprise flickered across Carol's fox-sharp features, and then wariness took its place. Rachel felt a prickle of excitement.
"Why on earth would you think I'd have it?"
"Because I know you cared about Dwayne. I believe your brother-in-law took the Bible the night Dwayne was arrested and gave it to you."
"Are you accusing me of theft?"
Rachel knew she had to be careful. "No. I'm sure you took the Bible for safekeeping, and I appreciate that. But now I'd like it back."
"You're the last person who should have Dwayne's Bible."
She hesitated. "It's not for me. It's for Edward. He has nothing left that belonged to his father, and the Bible should be his." That part, at least, was true.
Rachel held her breath. Carol gazed down at Edward, whose mouth was rimmed with red sprinkles. Apparently he'd been won over by the cookie because he smiled at her.
Carol bit her lip. She didn't look at Rachel, only at Edward. "Yes. All right. I do have the Bible. The police would only have thrown it in the storage room, and I couldn't let that happen. They aren't always careful with things."
Rachel wanted to grab Gabe and spin him around until she was too dizzy to stand. Instead, she forced herself to speak calmly. "I'm grateful to you for taking care of it."
Carol spun on her. "I don't care about your gratitude. I did it for Dwayne, not for you."
"I understand." Rachel forced the words out. "I know Dwayne would have appreciated it."
Carol turned away, as if she couldn't stand being in Rachel's presence any longer.
"Maybe we could stop by your house later on." Rachel didn't want to press her too hard, but she was determined to get her hands on the Bible as soon as possible.
"No. I'll give it to Ethan."
"When will that be?"
She shouldn't have shown her eagerness because it gave Carol power over her, something she clearly liked. "I believe Monday is Ethan's day off. I'll bring it to the church office sometime Tuesday."
She couldn't stand to wait until Tuesday, and she began to protest only to have Gabe cut her off. "That'll be just fine, Carol. No hurry. I'll tell Ethan to expect you."<
He caught Rachel's arm in a death grip and steered her into the crowd. "If you don't back off, you're never going to see that Bible."
She looked back to make sure Edward was following. "I can't stand that woman. She's deliberately torturing me."
"Another couple of days won't make any difference. Let's get something to eat."
"Don't you ever think about anything but your stomach?"
He slipped his thumb beneath the short sleeve of her monarch butterfly dress and stroked her upper arm. "Every once in a while other parts of my body have been known to grab my attention."
Her skin broke out in goose bumps. At the same time, she found herself wishing he felt something more lasting toward her than sexual attraction. "Are you buying?"
He looked amused. "I'm buying."
She turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. "Come on, Edward. We're going to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"You love watermelon. I'll get you a piece."
As they walked toward the food tents, Gabe heard the boy dragging his sneakers in the dirt. When he considered how much of Rachel's meager paycheck had gone toward buying those sneakers, he wanted to tell the child to pick up his feet, but he knew he was being unreasonable, and he kept silent.
They headed toward the center of the field, where several whole pigs roasted on spits above a large pit of glowing coals. Rachel wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll have corn on the cob instead."
"I thought you country girls were immune to being sentimental about animals."
"Not me. Besides, we raised soybeans."
He'd never been much of a fan of pig roasts himself, so he didn't give her a hard time. Before long, they were sitting at one end of a long picnic table with plates of buttered corn. He'd added a hot dog and coleslaw to his own meal in an attempt to get her to eat more, but she'd refused, and now he was stuck with food he didn't want.
"You sure you wouldn't like another hot dog, Edward? I haven't touched this one."
The boy shook his head and picked at the wedge of watermelon on his plate. Ever since they'd sat down, Gabe had watched him stealing glances at the next table where a man ate with his son, who looked to be around Edward's age. Edward gazed over at them again, and Rachel noticed.
"Is that boy in day care with you, Edward? You seem to know him."
"Uh-huh. His name is Kyle." Edward looked down at his watermelon. "And my name's Chip."
Over the top of Edward's head, Rachel gave Gabe an exasperated look. At the next table, the boy named Kyle and his father picked up their empty paper plates and disposed of them in one of the trash cans. Edward watched them carefully.
After the last paper cup had disappeared, the boy turned toward his father and raised his arms. His father smiled, swung him up, and set him over his shoulders.
An expression of such naked longing crossed Edward's face that Gabe winced. It was a simple thing… A father carrying his son on his shoulders. But Edward was too heavy for Rachel to carry that way. Too heavy for a mother to carry on her shoulders, but not a father.
Pick me up, Daddy! Pick me up so I can see!
Gabe looked away.
Rachel had witnessed the entire episode, and he saw her painful reaction as she took in one more thing in her life that she couldn't control. She opened her purse to distract herself. "Edward, I think you're wearing more food than you've eaten. Let me clean you—"
Her hands grew still, then dipped inside and began to riffle through the contents. "Gabe, my wallet's gone!"
"Let me see." He took her purse and, looking inside, saw the orderly clutter of a pen, a grocery-store receipt, a folded wad of toilet paper, a small plastic action toy, and a tampon that was coming out of its wrapper. He could just guess how much she begrudged spending her precious money on tampons.
"Maybe you left it at home."
"No! It was in my purse when I gave you that tissue to wipe your shoe."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive." She looked stricken. "Do you remember when I fell against you? Someone bumped me hard. It must have happened then."
"How much money did you have in your wallet?"
"Forty-three dollars. Everything I had."
She looked so forsaken and bewildered that his heart turned over in his chest. He knew how strong she was, and he told himself she'd recover from this latest setback, but he also wondered how many times one human being could get knocked to her knees and keep climbing back up.
"Let me go check around over where it happened. Maybe it fell out of your purse when you were bumped and someone turned it in at one of the tables."
He could see she didn't believe that would happen. He didn't believe it himself. Her luck wasn't that good.
As they cleared their trash, Rachel tried to conceal how upset she was from Gabe. She desperately needed that forty-three dollars to make it through next week.
Edward lagged behind as they left the picnic tables. They had to pass the bake sale on their way, where Carol was still working, along with an older woman cheerfully dressed in red slacks and a short-sleeved blouse printed with red and yellow hibiscus. Rachel recognized her as the grandmother of Emily, the little girl with leukemia. Her heart sank as the woman spotted her.
"Mrs. Snopes!"
"What are you doing, Fran?" Carol frowned as the older woman shot out from behind the table and made her way to Rachel.
The woman's wooden parrot earrings bobbed as she smiled at Rachel, then turned her head toward Carol. "I've asked Mrs. Snopes to go to my daughter's house and pray over Emily."
"How could you do that?" Carol cried. "She's a charlatan."
"That's not true," Fran chided gently. "You know how desperately we need prayers. Only a miracle can save Emily."
"You won't get a miracle from her!" Carol's dark eyes bore into Rachel's, and her sharp features twisted with consternation. "Do you have any idea how much this family has suffered? How could you raise their hopes like this?"
Rachel began to deny that she'd done any such thing, but Carol wasn't finished. "How much are you charging them? I'll bet you put a big price tag on your prayers."
"I don't have any prayers," Rachel replied honestly. She took a deep breath and gazed directly at Emily's grandmother. "I'm sorry I can't help you, but I'm no longer a believer."
"As if you ever were," Carol retorted.
But Fran merely smiled and regarded Rachel with deep compassion. "If you look into your heart, Mrs. Snopes, you'll know that's not true. Don't turn your back on us. My own prayers tell me that you can help Emily."
"But I can't!"
"You won't know until you've tried. Would you just go see her?"
"No. I won't give you false hopes."
"Pull out your checkbook, Fran," Carol said. "She'll change her mind."
For a woman who was supposed to be filled with the love of God, Carol's heart seemed to hold only bitterness. In Rachel's years at the Temple, she had seen many Carols, deeply religious men and women who were so judgmental and unyielding that all the joy had been snuffed from them.
Rachel was a good biblical scholar, and she understood what had happened to people like Carol. In their theology, everyone was inherently wicked, and only by being constantly on guard against the forces of evil could there be any hope for eternal life. For those like Carol, belief became a source of unending anxiety.
She'd seen those like Fran at the Temple, too—people who shone with an inner light. It never occurred to the Frans of the world to look for wickedness in others. They were too busy dispensing love, compassion, and forgiveness.
Ironically, Dwayne had been frustrated by Christians like Fran. He believed they lacked vigilance in the fight against the devil, and he feared for their souls.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice husky with emotion. "I'm so sorry."
Gabe stepped forward. "Ladies, you'll have to excuse us, but we need to look for Rachel's wallet. She lost it a little earlier." He nodded at them and drew he
Rachel was grateful. She knew he didn't understand what had happened, but, once again, he had sensed her distress and intervened.
"I didn't realize you knew Fran Thayer," he said as they passed the charcoal pit.
"Is that her last name? She didn't tell me."
"What's going on?"
She explained.
"It wouldn't hurt you to go see her granddaughter," he said when she was done.
"It would be unconscionable. I'm not a hypocrite."
For a moment she thought he would argue with her, but he didn't. Instead, he gestured toward one of the tents. "It seems to me we were over there when you got bumped. Let me ask around."
He returned a few minutes later, and even before he spoke, she knew the news wasn't good. "Maybe somebody will turn it in to the police later," he said to console her.
She forced a smile they both knew was false. "Maybe."
He brushed his knuckles gently down the side of her jaw. "Let's go on back to the cottage. I think we've all had enough for today."
She nodded, and the three of them set off.
As they moved away, Russ Scudder stepped out from behind the lemonade concession. He waited until they had disappeared then pulled Rachel's wallet from inside the empty popcorn box he'd been carrying around and removed the money.
Forty-three dollars. Too bad there wasn't more. He stared at the wrinkled bills, tossed the wallet into the nearest trash can, then wandered toward the table the Humane Society had set up.
Earlier, Carl Painter had been asking people for donations, but Russ ignored the container decorated with a picture of a sad-eyed dog. Instead, he slipped the forty-three dollars into the plastic cylinder that sat next to it, the one marked Emily's Fund.
Chapter Sixteen
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That night, Rachel read Edward Stellaluna for the hundredth time. The beautifully illustrated story dealt with a baby bat separated from his mother and raised by birds with sleeping and eating habits different from his own. When she was done with the book, Edward took Horse's ear out of his mouth and looked up at her, his too-old eyes worried. " Stellaluna's mommy got in a accident, and then they didn't see each other for a long time."