The Path to Piney Meadows Read online

  Center front onstage, the woman who played Mary, a woman with the voice of an angel, held hands with the woman who played an angel character, along with the bearded man who played Joseph. When the whole cast had lined up, they all joined hands and bowed awkwardly. The audience stood and the applause increased to a roar.

  These people were good.

  As soon as the applause died down, most of the cast fled the stage like a flock of lemmings, leaving only Mary and a few other key characters, who started to unplug microphones and wind cords.

  Being at the back, Chad arrived at the refreshment table first. He grabbed a cookie and ignored the coffee, then looked around the room for the least populated spot, which happened to be near the musicians’ area. Only one person remained—a guy about his age who had been playing the piano. He looked like an honest fellow, and Chad needed a huge favor.

  “I really enjoyed your play,” Chad mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

  “I am glad you enjoyed it, it was our pleasure.” The man paused in piling up his music and sighed. “This was our final performance.” He straightened and turned to Chad with a somewhat sad smile. “Are you from a nearby town? We have clear highways tonight, so you will have a pleasant drive home.”

  Chad stopped chewing and looked at the man. He had the same accent as the older man who had directed him to his seat.

  “Funny you should mention that. The gas station down the street is closed. Do you know somewhere else I can buy gas?”

  “Ja, there is another gas station in the next town, about thirty miles east.”

  “I can’t go thirty miles. My tank is completely empty. My car died on the street down the block.”

  “Brian will not open the gas station tonight or tomorrow.”

  In a town this size, Chad found it amusing, but not surprising, that the piano player knew the name of the person who owned the gas station. “Then I’m going to need a favor. I won’t be able to get home unless someone can siphon some gas out of their tank into mine. I’ll pay a fair price.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward the wooden cross on the wall above the stage. “I’ll even make a donation to the church.” He swiped his hand down the side of his pants to wipe the crumbs off his fingers and extended his hand. “My name’s Chad Jones. I’m from Minneapolis, so I’m going to need a fair amount of gas to get home.”

  The man’s brows knotted, and he returned Chad’s handshake. “Ja, you will. My name is Ted Wiebe. You will need more gas than I have in my own car right now, because I must also drive all the way to Minneapolis tonight and then home again. All of the people here from my own congregation have walked. Everyone else is strangers, so I do not know who I can ask such a thing.”

  Ted’s interesting accent almost made Chad smile, except he’d started to feel a welling of panic in his gut. Not only did it look like he wasn’t getting home, he didn’t think a town this small would have a hotel. As the overnight temperatures continued to drop, he wouldn’t be alive if he had to sleep in the car overnight.

  Ted glanced at the door, then back to Chad. “You are a long way from Minneapolis to be traveling with an empty gas tank.”

  “I didn’t expect to be so far from home.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I kind of quit my job and didn’t have anywhere to go, so I just got in my car and kept driving without thinking of where I was going until I got here.” Not that he wanted to play the sympathy factor, but after all, this was a church. “So I need to look for a gas station and then I need to look for another job, but that will wait until after Christmas.” He gave a lame laugh. “Know anyplace that needs an office manager? I’ve got references.”

  Ted stopped moving, and his eyes widened.

  “I am looking for a general manager. Do you have business college or experience?”

  Chad sighed. “Yeah. Two years of college, three years of management experience.”

  “Why did you travel so far from Minneapolis? Are you moving out of the cities?”

  Chad pictured the quaint little area he’d driven through that was Main Street in this little town. He hadn’t really thought about it, but he’d never liked the hustle and bustle of the city or the rat race that his job had become. He’d received an eviction notice anyway, so he needed to find another place to live by the end of December, besides needing to find a new job. And a tank of gas. Maybe he should move to a small town. The rent and the taxes would probably be lower, too. “Yeah. I just might move out of town. Maybe even a place like this. What’s this place called? Piney Village?”

  “It is called Piney Meadows. If you are interested, I would like to interview you for a job as general manager for our local furniture factory. We handcraft old-style Mennonite furniture and ship it all over North America.”

  “That’s not something I’ve done before, but it sounds interesting. When’s a good time to talk? I assume you don’t want to have that kind of conversation here, at the church.”

  Ted checked his watch. “No, I must talk to someone in a few minutes, and then I must take her to the Minneapolis airport. I will not buy gas on the Lord’s birthday, but when I return we can siphon out what I have left in my car and you can be on your way. In the meantime, you are invited to stay at my house.”

  Chad’s chest tightened. He’d expected a member of this quaint church to be nice, but not this accommodating. “Don’t worry about rushing back from the airport on my account. I don’t have plans for Christmas day, so it doesn’t matter what time you return.” It would probably be better if he could sleep on Ted’s couch until daylight, so he didn’t have to drive without sleep on a dark highway he didn’t know.

  Ted smiled. “I only ask that, while you are at my house, you give me your car keys and your driver’s license. I am sure you understand.”

  Chad grinned back. He could see that this guy was a good manager, thinking ahead.

  He reached into his pocket. “I’ll do better than that. Here’s my keys, and take my whole wallet. You’ll also have all my credit cards, bank card, birth certificate, and a couple of hundred bucks in cash.”

  “Danke shoen,” Ted said as he accepted Chad’s keys and wallet.

  As he slipped them into his pocket, the lady who played Mary ran up to them, holding her floppy skirt up awkwardly so she didn’t trip, showing bright red tennis shoes on her feet instead of the plain leather sandals that people in Bible days would have worn.

  Ted turned to the woman. “Miranda, it is a good thing you are here. I must talk to you, it is very important. But first, I would like to introduce you to Chad Jones. I think you will find that Chad has an interesting story to share.”

  She turned to Chad and smiled graciously. “Good evening, Chad. I don’t mean to be rude, but please excuse me.” She handed a red cell phone to Ted. “I don’t know who this person is, but someone called for you a few minutes ago. It must be terribly important for them to call on Christmas Eve like this, and I thought I’d give you the phone so you can call them back.”

  Ted pushed the button to activate the call display. He nodded when the number appeared on the screen. “Excuse me. I must find a quiet place and call him back. This is very important. I will not be long.”

  As Ted rushed off, Miranda released the voluminous folds of her skirt, straightened it, turned to Chad, and smiled. “I hope you enjoyed our play.”

  Chad returned her smile, in a much better mood than when he’d first arrived. “Yes. I did. It wasn’t at all what I expected to see in a place like this.” Thoughts of the productions at the church where he’d grown up flickered through his mind. They hadn’t been as good as this one, yet this place was in the middle of nowhere. His own words replayed in his head, causing his smile to drop. He really had worded his thoughts badly—he’d meant it as a compliment, but it hadn’t sounded like one. “Please don’t take that the wrong way. It was very, very good, which is why I was so surprised. You have a very talented group of people.”

  “Yes, we do.” Without moving her head, her
eyes shifted from side to side. At the same time, Chad struggled to think of something to say and wished Ted would return quickly.

  Miranda cleared her throat and looked at him again. “Where are you from? I’m curious to know how you found out about our play.”

  “It’s funny you should ask that. I actually didn’t intend to be here. I was driving around and got lost, then I ran out of gas down the block. The gas station was closed, and the church looked like something was going on with all the people and lights, so I walked in and got a very pleasant surprise.”

  Her smile faltered. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. We—” Her sentence was cut off by Ted’s abrupt return.

  Chad didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it before, but Ted was holding a hat, the same kind of hat that the Mennonite men in the play had been wearing as part of their costumes. In the back of his mind, he wondered if maybe this hat wasn’t a costume but really was his own hat, since Ted was a musician, not an actor.

  As Miranda looked at Ted, her expression turned sappy. She blinked a few times and turned back to him. “It was nice meeting you, Chad. I’m going to go change and then Ted and I have to leave quickly. I have a plane to catch.”

  Ted shook his head. “I will be dropping Chad off at my house before we go. He is going to stay for the night.”

  Before Chad could explain, Miranda grasped Ted’s elbow and hauled him off. “Are you crazy? You don’t know him or . . .” Her voice became softer the farther away she dragged him.

  Chad felt caught between wanting to hear the rest of their conversation and being polite.

  Since it looked like the man could one day be his boss, he decided being polite was the better choice.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Chad saw Ted grin as he displayed Chad’s keys and wallet to his lady friend.

  He turned away, but Miranda’s cell phone beeped, drawing Chad’s attention back to them. With a speed he hadn’t seen in a long time, Ted grabbed the phone out of Miranda’s hand and held it over his head. Miranda sucked in a deep breath, squatted just a bit, and just as he thought she’d do, jumped like a star basketball player and grasped Ted’s wrist.

  Chad nearly laughed. From the look on Ted’s face, the poor guy hadn’t seen it coming. Brittany would have done the same thing if he’d held her cell phone over her head. Except that Brittany wasn’t as tall as Miranda, so she never would have gotten it.

  Chad’s chest constricted.

  He didn’t want to think of Brittany now. She was gone. The next time he saw her would probably be in court.

  Thinking of Brittany and what should have happened versus what actually happened, Chad couldn’t take his eyes away from the young couple.

  Ted dropped to one knee, pressed his hat to his chest, and looked up at Miranda with an expression so besotted it was obvious what was happening.

  The man was proposing. In a church. The crowd had begun to disperse, but plenty of people still lingered.

  This time should be the happiest in a man’s life, when the woman he loves accepts his proposal. At least, it is supposed to be.

  Chad held his breath, waiting, unable to tear his gaze away. However, instead of the expected hug and kiss and declarations of love forever, the two of them were having a conversation.

  He’d had many conversations with Brittany, and none of them had turned out the way he wanted. Especially the last one.

  He didn’t know these people, but he wanted them to be happy. The kind of happy that lasted seventy-five years, give or take.

  Just as Chad pictured Miranda leaving Ted hanging, the same way Brittany always left him hanging, Ted jumped up and grabbed Miranda tight, spun her around, and kissed her so intensely it made Chad’s heart pound.

  These people were in love. The way it should be.

  “All right!” Chad called. He clapped a couple of times, then stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

  An elderly lady grabbed a teenaged boy by the sleeve, gave Chad a dirty look, then tugged the boy in a straight line away from Ted and Miranda, who were still smooching. “Do not look,” she hissed to the boy, and both made a beeline for the door.

  The place emptied quickly. Only the middle-aged man who had helped him find a seat, the man who had played the pastor—it was announced he really was the pastor—and a lady who was probably his wife, remained. Strangely, he didn’t remember the wife being on stage, but she wore the same kind of costume, including the bonnet, as the women on stage in the non-nativity part of the play.

  He turned around to see Ted, now wearing his hat, and Miranda walking toward him.

  Ted looked so starry-eyed Chad almost laughed, but really, he felt happy for the guy.

  “We are getting married,” Ted said, blushing.

  “Yeah, I can tell. Congratulations.” He shook Ted’s hand, really meaning it.

  “Come. It is a long drive to the airport. I will take you to my house, and then we must leave.”

  The drive was only three blocks, so there was no time to start a conversation. Inside Ted’s house, the living room contained more boxes than furniture. “My house does not usually look like this. These boxes, they are all Miranda’s things. A truck will be by next Wednesday to pick everything up. There was no room for everything where she was staying, so we are doing it this way.”

  Ted showed him the kitchen, told him to help himself to anything he wanted to eat, and as soon as Ted pulled the key for the house off his key ring, Ted and Miranda were gone.

  Compared to his own kitchen, Ted’s was quite bare. It didn’t even have what Chad considered the basics, including a dishwasher.

  Chad’s stomach grumbled painfully, reminding him that all he’d eaten was one cookie. It was a good cookie, but it hadn’t done much to appease his hunger, so he went straight to the fridge to check it out. The first container he opened contained a casserole, so he spooned a healthy-sized serving onto a plate and put it into a microwave that looked brand-new.

  While the casserole heated, he walked into the living room. Since he was going to be here for probably eight hours, he wanted to check out what was on TV.

  Except there was no television.

  He heard the microwave beep, but instead of returning to the kitchen, he walked down the hall, peeking in each room, looking for the den, where the television would be since it wasn’t where he’d expected.

  The first bedroom was obviously Ted’s. Its furnishings included one double bed and a very solid and old but pristine dresser, with a matching armoire and night table. Plain, light blue curtains matched a fluffy bedspread as well as a small knitted thing under a lamp on the table beside the bed. The room was neat and tidy, and unlike Chad’s, the bed was made. But there was no television in here, either.

  The next room looked to be a well-lit office with a large desk and computer. But no television.

  The third bedroom looked like a den, containing a small couch, an electric piano, a bookshelf piled with music and books, as well as a small desk and a guitar on a stand.

  Still no television.

  He felt invasive, but he walked down the stairs into the basement, which contained only a workbench, some piles of wood, tools, a plug-in heater that wasn’t plugged in, and a set of shelves containing jars of preserves. It was cold and damp, and there was no television here, either.

  Chad shivered and crossed his arms over his chest. The first thought that ran through his mind was that maybe he was being set up. He was going to be accused of stealing Ted’s television. This didn’t make sense, because Ted had the keys to his car, so Chad had no place to hide anything, especially something as large as a television.

  He returned to the living room.

  All the boxes were neatly stacked in the corner nearest the door. The furniture had been moved slightly to make room for the pile.

  Chad took a quick inventory. Couch. Love seat. Recliner. Coffee table. Bookshelf. End tables. Lamp. Fireplace. Christ-mas tree.

  He walked to where the television shoul
d have been, according to the layout of the room. There was no stand for a television, no speakers, and no DVD player. There also were no indentations on the carpet to show that anything had ever been there.

  There really was no television in Ted’s house.

  Chad ran his fingers through his hair and studied the bookshelf lined with many great mysteries and thrillers, both new and classic.

  He could see what Ted did with his time. Some of the books he’d already read; most he hadn’t. Most were by Christian authors, something like his book collection had been, until the last few years.

  He picked up a book that looked like a recent purchase. He’d bought the same book but hadn’t started it yet. He brought the book to the table and began to eat. He didn’t know what kind of casserole it was, but it was delicious. Not only was this Mennonite food good, the book was good, too. Instead of moving to sit on the couch in the living room, he stayed seated at Ted’s kitchen table, reading Ted’s new book.

  He was about halfway through when the phone rang. His gut clenched. The only time anyone ever phoned in the middle of the night was if something bad had happened.

  Since it was Christmas Eve, he hated to think that someone Ted knew or loved had died.

  Chad picked up the phone. “Ted’s house,” he mumbled, struggling to remember Ted’s last name.

  “This is Ted. I am calling from the airport. I only have a minute to use the phone. There is an empty seat on the plane, and I can go to Seattle on standby to be with Miranda’s family for Christmas. But you are at my home and I have your keys and your wallet in my pocket. You had said that you did not have plans for Christmas, and I do not like to ask this of you, but you are welcome to stay in Piney Meadows for Christmas. I can courier your keys and wallet back to you the day after Christmas. But if you wish to go home, I will not buy the ticket and I will be back in a few hours.”

  “Christmas on the coast with the future in-laws. That sounds like fun.” Chad glanced around Ted’s kitchen. He didn’t care if he didn’t make it home for Christmas. He’d received an invitation from Todd’s parents, which he’d turned down because he didn’t want to be a third wheel, or worse, hear the inevitable “I told you so” from Todd. His own parents were in Florida in the land of eternal sunshine, blissfully unaware of what had happened in the last two weeks. Not unusual. These days, they mostly were blissfully unaware of Chad. So instead of spending time with family and friends, feasting on turkey or ham with all the trimmings, he’d planned to barbecue hamburgers for one on his balcony. With the luck he’d been having, it would snow overnight and cover the grill anyway.