Texas Weddings 3 & 4 Page 3

  “Hmm, well. . .”

  “He’s terribly sorry,” the man continued. “At any rate, Mr. Chapman’s coming at ten thirty to drop off your PC. Any chance you could come at the same time? Save him another trip?”

  “Ten thirty?” Shauna glanced down at her watch. It was already nine forty-five. For a moment, she thought about saying no, but then remembered Kent Chapman’s deep green eyes. She didn’t want to be the source of agitation to those kind eyes. “I’ll be there.” Shauna groaned as she hung up the phone. With a bit of frustration over losing yet another day to this problem, she headed back into the house to pack up the computer.

  Again.

  ***

  Kent began the familiar drive back to Computers Unlimited, trying to hold his temper in check. “Lord, I have so much to do today. Please give me patience and help me not to overreact at the computer store.”

  He tried to push his emotions aside as he made the trip. With so little time before tomorrow morning’s service, he certainly needed more than patience. He needed Divine intervention. Especially after the night he’d had.

  Raising a child alone might prove to be his undoing, especially when it came to sleep schedules. Whoever said toddlers slept soundly hadn’t met his daughter. She managed to stay awake until the wee hours most every night then awaken with the dawn, raring to go. “How long can she keep this up?” Surely things would change soon. He prayed.

  Kent yawned and tried to keep his wits about him. As he pulled into the parking lot of the store, he noticed Shauna Alexander’s white Saturn. She stood next to it, sunlight streaming through her short blond hair. Today, she wore a bright yellow T-shirt with a rubber duck on the front along with a trendy pair of jeans. As he pulled up next to her car, she waved and smiled.

  For some reason Kent’s nerves kicked in just as he opened the car door, and the only word that could come was a shaky, “Hey.”

  “Hey to you, too.” Her smile broadened, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

  “You stole my computer.” He waggled his finger in her direction.

  “No, you stole my computer.” She crossed her arms and pretended to glare.

  They both chuckled. “I’ll be glad to finally get mine back, to be honest.” Kent admitted. “I’ve got less than. . .” he glanced at his watch, “twenty-four hours to prepare a sermon.”

  “You really are a pastor.” She looked more than a little surprised. “I guessed as much from some of the files I found on your computer.”

  A sigh escaped his lips. “I’m not used to the title yet, to be honest. I’m still on a learning curve, trust me. You have no idea.”

  “Still, that’s very cool.”

  As she gave him a look of admiration, he felt his cheeks flush a little. “Don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly. “I love it.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s great. A lot of responsibility, though. You’re pretty young to pastor a church, but I guess you hear that a lot.”

  Kent took a minute to explain his situation. “I’ve gone to the same church since I was a kid. Our pastor just retired, and the board asked me to fill in until they found a permanent replacement.”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “So you really are on a learning curve, then.” Her eyebrows elevated slightly as she added, “I know what that feels like, trust me.”

  He couldn’t help but wonder at her cryptic comment but didn’t ask for an explanation. “I worked in the youth department for about three years,” Kent explained, “but hanging out with teens is a lot different than facing a congregation full of people of all ages.”

  “I’ll bet.” She grinned. “That would scare me to death. I have enough trouble getting up in front younger people. Do you get nervous?”

  “Maybe a little.” He gave a helpless shrug. “But every week gets a little less nerve-wracking. Tomorrow will be my third Sunday in a row. And no one has left the church yet. That makes me feel a little better.”

  Dimples appeared as her smile widened. “Well, you’d better get home and get busy. We don’t want to lose any parishioners because you stood in the parking lot all day gabbing.”

  No, but I sure wouldn’t mind standing here a little bit longer to talk to you.

  ***

  Shauna couldn’t figure out why her cheeks warmed as she talked to Kent Chapman. Probably just the late summer heat. She opened the trunk of her car so that the computer exchange could take place and then thanked him as he placed the PC inside her vehicle.

  “I’m so sorry this happened.” He spoke as if he had caused the problem. “I hope you didn’t have to drive very far to get here.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem, really,” Shauna said. “I don’t live far, and I didn’t have any big plans this morning. Just need to get some lessons ready for Monday. And besides, it’s certainly not your fault. Just a fluke.”

  “Right. A fluke.” He smiled warmly.

  She couldn’t help but chuckle as she confessed, “You should have seen my face when the computer booted up and I saw that painting of the Last Supper. It really scared me. I thought maybe someone was trying to tell me something.”

  “Maybe they were.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “You never know.”

  She nodded. “Maybe. The whole thing seemed a little suspicious. And I really got worried when I stumbled across those sermon notes, I don’t mind telling you. I thought maybe the Lord was trying to get through to me in a new way.”

  He groaned and pressed his palm to his forehead. “You didn’t read them, did you?”

  She shrugged. “Sort of. I hope that’s not a problem.”

  Kent’s face tightened in obvious embarrassment. “I’m just not very good at putting my thoughts together on paper. At least not yet.”

  “Could’ve fooled me. I especially liked the one titled ‘The Valley of the Shadow.’ ”

  His gaze shifted downward. “That actually came from a journal entry I made during a horrible period in my life,” he said. “But then you probably already know about that, too. You seem to know everything about me.”

  “Not really,” Shauna said, suddenly self-conscious. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to pry. I was just trying to figure out whose PC I had, that’s all.”

  “I’m just kidding.” He flashed a warm smile. “And besides, I know a few things about you, too.”

  “Like. . . ?” Shauna suddenly grew nervous, wondering what secrets her computer had revealed to this young pastor.

  “I know you went to Texas A&M.”

  “That’s right.” I’m safe so far. “Best school in the country.”

  “Some would debate that, but I’d have to agree with you,” he responded with a smile. “And I know that you wrote a terrific paper on something to do with child psychology.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You read that?”

  “I skimmed it,” he confessed. “Intriguing. Carefully researched and well written. Convinced me.”

  “Good grief. What else?”

  “Somebody named Joey Something-or-other up in College Station has been getting a lot of mail from you.”

  “Okay, that’s enough.” This guy had really overstepped his bounds now. She slammed the trunk closed.

  “I’m sorry.” He spoke with sincerity. “I really am. I was just looking for a name—trying to figure out whom the computer belonged to. Same as you. That’s all.”

  “Right.”

  “Right,” he echoed.

  “Well, everything’s straightened out now.” Shauna gazed intently into his green eyes. “So I guess I’d better get back on the road. I’m supposed to meet my mom for lunch.” She walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door. He followed her and held the door open until she was safely inside.

  “My parishioners thank you,” Kent said with a tad bit of dramatic flair. “I have a hard time putting together my sermons by hand.”

  “No problem.”

  “I didn’t realize how much I relied on my computer until I had to do without it. I really depend on it—and on the Internet. I guess it’s right, what the kids say about me. I really am a twenty-first century pastor. I need all the modern conveniences to survive.”

  “Twenty-first century?” Shauna had to wonder what he meant. “Is that some sort of a tag or something? Your logo?”

  “It’s kind of a joke,” he said with a laugh. “It started when I set up an Internet server at our church—Grace.com.”

  “Grace.com?” She grew more confused by the moment.

  “I pastor Grace Community Church,” he explained. “We’re near downtown.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard about that one,” she said. “You guys are really involved in the community, right?”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “And I’m particularly interested in using technology to reach out to the unchurched. Anyway, I came up with the screen name ‘21stcenturypastor’ awhile back. One of the teens gave me that label after I preached a message to the youth group last year on relevance.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been preaching longer than three weeks, then.”

  He nodded. “I guess God’s been getting me ready for a while now. Just didn’t see it at the time. Like I said before, it’s one thing to share in front of a roomful of teens, another thing altogether to stand in front of people of all ages. Teens are a little more forgiving when you make mistakes.” Kent smiled, as if remembering. “More prone to make fun of you,” he was quick to add, “but less prone to hold it against you.”

  “Come on now,” Shauna said, feigning offense. “We’re all forgiving. Just don’t worry so much about what everyone thinks.”

  “I try to stay focused on what the Lord thinks,” he said with a nod. “But thanks for the reminder.”

  “No problem.” Shauna stood in silence a moment as she looked him
over. This very contemporary looking twenty-something certainly didn’t fit the typical pastor mode, but stranger things had happened. Why wouldn’t the Lord use him to lead a congregation? Hadn’t He chosen Shauna to work with two-year-olds?

  “It’s all still new to me,” Kent continued, oblivious to her thoughts, “but I enjoy it, especially getting to know the people.”

  “Do you like the preaching part?” Shauna asked, genuinely curious. “Are you good at it?” She clamped her hand over her mouth, embarrassed she had phrased the question in such a way.

  He laughed. “I do like to preach. Surprisingly. And people tell me I’m not half bad behind the pulpit, to answer your last question. Probably a little better at the public speaking part than the putting notes together part. Somehow when I stand up in front of the people, the words just seem to flow. Never could figure that out.”

  She grinned and nodded. “Well, maybe I’ll have to come and hear a sermon or two before I draw any conclusions.”

  “Better come soon then,” he explained. “I’ll only be preaching a few months—just till the church locates a real pastor. I’m the in-between guy.” His eyes lit up with a fire as he continued to speak. “But I love the fact that God could use someone like me—someone who has made mistakes then come back to the Lord—to speak to the lives of people. To give them hope. You know?”

  Shauna nodded. With passion like his, why would his church need to look for someone else? “I’d like to come.” Did I really just say that?

  “Great!” He smiled broadly, and his green eyes twinkled a bit. “I’ll be looking for you.” He closed the door and waved a final good-bye. As Shauna pulled away, she couldn’t help but look into her rearview mirror. Mr. Twenty-first Century Pastor is awfully cute.

  Stop it, girl! What do you think you’re doing? Somewhere in College Station a young man named Joey might someday ask her to marry him.

  five

  “Do you have anything for a headache? I think I have a migraine.” Shauna asked the question, though she knew that all the pain reliever in the world wouldn’t cure her aching head.

  “Tough day, huh?” Ellen asked.

  Shauna rubbed the back of her neck and rolled her head from left to right trying to stretch the tenseness out of her muscles. Nothing seemed to help. “Man, I had no idea kids were this difficult. Is it too late to change my major?”

  Ellen looked a little puzzled. “You’ve already got your degree, right?”

  “Yeah,” Shauna mumbled. “I was just kidding. But I really do need something for this headache, if you’ve got it.”

  Her new friend opened her purse and pulled out a giant-sized bottle of pain reliever. “I always keep this on hand,” she said with a smile. “Never leave home without it.”

  Shauna nodded sympathetically. “I just wish someone had told me,” she muttered. “That’s the least they could have done.” She glanced over at the table where her students sat, eating lunch. At once, she spotted a problem—and not an unusual one. “Charity! Stop throwing your food at Clay. Behave!”

  “I behave, teacher.” With a look of mischief in her eyes, the child turned back to the table.

  “I see you’ve gotten to know Charity,” Ellen spoke quietly, eyebrows elevating slightly.

  “Why do you think I have this headache?” Shauna swallowed the tablets Ellen placed in her outstretched palm without even reaching for a glass of water. She turned back toward the table just in time to see the rambunctious youngster pinch the little girl next to her. “Charity!”

  “No me!” the youngster said, shaking her head. “I no pinch her.” Her blond curls bobbed back and forth with her denial. Dinah, the little girl next to her, erupted into a fit of tears. Soon two or three of the others joined in, probably as much out of sympathy as anything else.

  “Is she always like this?” Shauna whispered to Ellen.

  “No, not really. Sometimes she’s worse.”

  Shauna rubbed her aching brow and prayed the day would come to a quick end. She headed over to the table, trying to calm the children down. “Let’s all sing a song.” With animated cheer in her voice she broke into, “This is the way we eat our lunch, eat our lunch, eat our lunch.” By the time she got to, “This is the way we drink our juice,” they all wore smiles again. She finished the song abruptly, praying they would finish their meals in peace.

  Eventually, they all turned their attentions back to their food, which gave Shauna a moment to think. She glanced over the group, her gaze finally coming to rest on a chubby little boy.

  “Does Bobby Radisson eat all of the time?” Shauna whispered her question, pointing to the rotund toddler who pushed food into his mouth with a vengeance.

  “Uh-huh,” Ellen mumbled with a nod. “Ever since I started working in the lunchroom, anyway. And it’s not just the usual foods. His mother insists on sending him special snacks every day, which the other kids always want. She won’t take no for an answer, and neither will he. He has to have them or he cries.”

  “You’re kidding.” Out of the corner of her eye, Shauna watched him swallow down his entire meal in less time than most took to say the blessing.

  “Nope. I guess on some level the food pacifies him. I’m not sure where the real problem lies, though. Must be something deep down driving the hunger, but I’m not a professional, just a cafeteria worker.”

  “More, Miss Shauna!” the youngster cried out, as if echoing their thoughts. “I hungry.”

  She moved in his direction. “But you just finished your lunch,” she argued, as she pulled out a paper towel to wipe his sticky hands. “You have to wait until snack time to have more.”

  He immediately burst into tears, and wailing soon followed.

  “Good grief.” Shauna looked up at Ellen. “Now what do I do?”

  Ellen shrugged and went back to work. Shauna did her best to console the unhappy little boy, but his tears continued on well into the children’s nap time, which came right after lunch. In fact, he cried himself to sleep.

  Curled up on their mats, the children all eventually dozed off—except Charity, who sang aloud, “Jesus wubs me, dis I know,” approximately eight hundred times in a row. Shauna tried to shush her, but the child would not be silenced. Finally, after forty-five minutes of trying to get her to sleep, the weary teacher gave up.

  “Let her sing,” she mumbled. “Maybe it will wear her out.”

  It didn’t. When the others awoke, Charity was still going strong.

  The rest of the afternoon crawled by. Shauna faced one catastrophe after another. Whenever her back was turned, Charity would do something to one of the other children.

  “Charity hit me, teacher!”

  “Cherry bite me, Miss Shauna!”

  “Charity throw blocks, teacher!”

  “Cherry, no push! No push!”

  “Charity pull hair, teacher.”

  All afternoon, it continued on. Time and time again, Shauna tried to reason with the little girl, tried to control her without putting her in the time-out corner. But every attempt only led to more anger on the part of the frustrated youngster.

  The little darling threw temper tantrums, held her breath, and screamed each and every time something didn’t go her way. “I tell my daddy!”

  Shauna wasn’t sure how many times she heard those words through the course of the day. . .or how many more times she could take hearing them again.

  Four o’clock arrived. Time to serve snacks. No sooner were the crackers and juice handed out than Charity began to whine, “Red juice, teacher! Red juice.”

  “No, Charity. We’re drinking apple juice today.”

  “Red juice!”

  They bantered back and forth until Shauna thought she would lose her mind. Finally, she snatched up the cup of juice. “No juice for Charity.”

  The child burst into tears. “Apple juice, teacher! Apple juice.”

  Defeated, Shauna placed the cup on the table, where the child willingly took it and began to drink.

  Shortly thereafter, Charity began to dance around the room, knocking into toys and tables. “I dance, teacher!” she shouted.

  “I see that.” Shauna shook her head. “But be careful, honey.”

  Charity continued to twirl until she spun into Marisa, who burst into tears. Shauna did her best to bring a sense of calm to the room, but her shattered nerves made the task difficult. Lord, help me make it to the end of this day. Please, Father.