Never Ending Spring Read online

  Emily stood by the snowman jumping up and down, clapping her hands with delight.

  Returning to the warmth of the house, they drank hot chocolate made from Ruth's special recipe.

  "I think it's time I got a Christmas tree; I wonder who I could get to go with me," Jack said, rubbing his chin in deep thought.

  "Me! Me! Me!" Emily said, waving her hand in the air.

  "Yeah, I guess you might," Jack declared. "But first we've got to get that chocolate ring from around your mouth."

  Before Ruth or Jack could stop her, Emily wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. After dressing Emily in a clean sweater, they set out. Jack insisted Ruth and Emily ride on the sled while he pulled.

  "Honey, I'm afraid you'll hurt yourself," Ruth protested.

  "No, I'll be okay; besides, you'll have to walk on the way back."

  Pausing on the bridge over the frozen stream, Jack's eyes swept the back pasture. The powdered snow was making it difficult to pull the small sled.

  "Well, what do you think?" he asked, breathing heavily.

  Emily jumped off her grandmother's lap and scampered over the snow to a seven-foot blue spruce at the edge of the woods.

  "This is OUR tree, it's perzactly right!" she said, her eyes shining.

  After Ruth and Emily scooped the snow from around the trunk with their hands, Jack cut the tree down using his bucksaw. Lashing the tree onto the sled, he and Ruth pulled the sled back to the house while Emily bounced across the snow in front of them.

  As Jack and Emily fitted the tree into the stand in the living room, Ruth went to the attic to retrieve the Christmas ornaments.

  When she didn't return, Jack went looking for her. He found Ruth kneeling by a box, holding one of Kristie's handmade ornaments. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Coming closer, Jack saw Ruth's eyes were closed and her lips moved silently.

  "----and Lord, fulfill Kristie's dream for her father to be saved," Ruth said softly.

  Withdrawing quietly down the hall, Jack called, "Ruth, are you up here? We're ready to start decorating the tree!"

  Drying her eyes, Ruth picked up the box. "Be right there."

  "My Mommy made that one when she was a little girl," Emily said, handing the star to Jack. "Let's put it high on the tree so Mommy and Daddy can see it from Heaven."

  Jack strung the lights as Ruth dug through the box handing the ornaments to Emily. Within minutes, the bottom of the tree was filled.

  "Here, honey, let me give you a boost," Jack said, lifting her up. By the time they finished, Jack's arms were getting tired.

  "Can we have a birthday party?" Emily murmured around a cookie.

  "Sure we can, honey, but you know your birthday isn't until April. That's almost five months away," Jack said regretfully.

  "Oh, not for me," Emily said seriously. "For Jesus!"

  "Tell you what; I'll talk to the men in the church. Maybe we can have it in the fellowship hall," Ruth said. "If it's all right with you, Jack," she said, turning to Jack.

  "Um, um, uh, I guess if that's what you want," Jack mumbled.

  "Oh goody, Gramps can play his fiddler."

  Chapter 15

  Jack and Emily were feeding the chickens when Bill Skinner drove his pickup into the driveway.

  "The deacons think the birthday party is a great idea, only wish I'd thought of it!" Bill chuckled. "They suggested we have it Sunday evening after the Christmas program."

  "Hurray!" Emily shouted, jumping up and down.

  "How's she doing, Jack?" Bill asked as they watched Emily running into the house to tell her grandmother the exciting news.

  "Okay, I guess, but sometimes she'll stop whatever she's doing and stare down the road toward the parsonage," Jack answered.

  "We still have you folks on our payer list," Bill assured him.

  "Thanks, I appreciate it," Jack said, not really meaning it.

  "I'd better go, time I get the hog feed unloaded, it'll be time for supper," Bill said starting his truck.

  "Is your wife doing any better?" Jack inquired.

  "Doctors say she's just getting old like me. They say her ticker'll never be any better. She'll just have to take it easy. But," Bill continued, "She'll be there Sunday night to meet the new pastor."

  "New pastor?" It had never occurred to Jack that someone would be taking Jim's place.

  "I'm sorry, I thought you knew. About the middle of November, the church extended a call to Barry Wells. You remember he's the one did the funeral. We didn't think we had much of a chance of gettin' him, but two weeks ago he called and said he felt the Lord was callin' him here."

  "What about that big church in Indianapolis he preaches at? He can't expect Elm Grove to match the salary they're paying him," Jack said, frowning.

  "That was one of our concerns too but he said he knew the Lord would provide. Oh by the way, Emily told us about your offer to play your violin at the get-together. The people are really looking forward to it. Well, we'll see you Sunday!"

  Jack stood in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open. Bill backed his truck out, waved goodbye, and headed down the road.

  "Emily did you tell Mr. Skinner I would play my fidd-- er, violin at the party?" Jack asked sternly.

  "Yes," Emily said looking to her grandmother for help.

  "Emily," Ruth said, kneeling down and pulling Emily to her. "You never tell someone a person will do something for them without asking." Bewildered, Jack shook his head in frustration and said, "Another thing is you never give someone your word and not fulfill it. I never told Mr. Skinner or any of the people at the church I would play for them, but because you did, I will. Next time ask."

  "I'm sorry, Gramps," Emily said with her mouth turned down "Next time I ask before I say anything."

  Suddenly she smiled. "But I know Jesus will like it."

  ****

  A group of children marched onto the platform. After they were assembled, a small boy a little older than Emily stepped forward. His voice rose hesitantly:

  "For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour which is Christ the Lord."

  Jack was surprised at the ability of the children to memorize the songs and Bible verses. Standing on the front row with the smaller children, Emily's eyes searched the congregation for her grandfather.

  Spotting him in the second row, a smile brightened her face; she raised her hand and waved.

  Self-consciously, Jack lifted his hand half way and waved back. He then glanced around to see if anyone had noticed but everyone's attention was drawn to the children. Ruth was leading then in singing "Joy to the World."

  Retiring to the fellowship hall in the basement, the women hurriedly lined the long tables with all kinds of food. On one end sat different kinds of meat, then vegetables, and finally cakes, cookies and pies. When the preparations were completed, Jacob Turner raised his hand and called for order.

  Jacob's great-grandfather had been one of the founders of Elm Grove Community Church and now, as its head deacon, he took his job seriously.

  "Folks, it sure is great to see all of you here tonight. As many of you know, we've been doin' a lot of searchin' and prayin' for a new preacher since the untimely death of our beloved Pastor Mays and his wife. Some time ago, we asked Reverend Barry Wells to take over the leadership of Elm Grove. He graciously consented. Brother Wells," Jacob said, handing Barry a small white envelope. "Here are the keys to the parsonage, there is also a set of keys to the church in here. They've never been used, as Elm Grove Community Church is never closed. As head of the deacon board, I want to assure you of the absolute loyalty of the church."

  "Longest speech I ever heard Jacob Turner make!" Jack whispered, grinning at Ruth.

  "Shhh, he'll hear you," Ruth whispered in return.

  With his wife beside him, Reverend Wells accepted the envelope.

  "Thank you, Brother Turner, I am humbled by your trust. Before we return thanks for all this good food and fellowship, I have two things I want
to say. First," Barry said, looking into the smiling faces surrounding them.

  "I will do all I can to lead this church into a higher plane of spirituality. But I'm not here to replace your dear Pastor Jim and Kristie in your hearts, nor would I try. Second, all of us adults were so busy with our preparation for the holidays we forgot whose birthday we're celebrating, but one person didn't! Emily, come here please."

  Several hands urged Emily forward. Standing with his hands on Emily's shoulders, Barry turned her to face the people.

  "If there is one outstanding quality I remember about Jim and Kristie, it was their kindness in thinking of others before themselves. It is so gratifying to see they have passed on this trait to their daughter."

  After the meal, Jack played several Christmas carols. The people applauded at the end of each one, but Jack's stomach churned within him, fearing the sweet melody might betray the bitterness in his heart.

  ****

  On their way to bed, Jack and Ruth stopped to check on Emily. As Ruth opened her bedroom door, a shaft of light fell across the sleeping child's face. Her thumb was in her mouth and with her other arm she hugged her doll.

  "Her heart really is drawn to others, isn't it?" Ruth stated. "I just hope we can raise her the way Kristie and Jim would have." Jack remained silent, alone with his thoughts.

  ****

  Jack had just finished the chores and put the coffee on when Emily descended the stairs with Ruth in tow.

  "I guess we're opening presents before we have breakfast," he said, smiling. Not waiting for the coffee to finish perking, Jack poured two cups of the thick dark liquid with heaping spoons of cream and sugar.

  Suddenly Emily stopped, then picked up a gaily-wrapped package. Struggling under its weight, she carried the gift to Jack.

  "This is for you, Gramps," she said gleefully.

  Relieving her of the heavy package, Jack said, "Now what can this be?"

  "Why don't you open it and find out?" Ruth said, smiling.

  Removing the wrapping paper, he stared in amazement at the set of socket tools.

  "I saw they were gone, but all Harry Blackburn would tell me was he sold them!"

  "Well he did!" Ruth laughed and Emily giggled.

  Going to the tree, Jack picked up a square flat package. Carrying it carefully, he laid it in Ruth's lap.

  "Jack, it's half as big as my kitchen table. What can it be?"

  "Why don't you open it and find out?" Jack said unsmiling.

  Seeing the seriousness in his face, Ruth removed the bright red paper from one side of the object. Kristie, Jim, and Emily smiled up at her. With trembling hands, she tore the rest of the covering from the other side of the portrait. Beside Jim stood Jack, his hands on Ruth's shoulders. Ruth was wearing her favorite blue dress, Jack had on the black suit he had worn to Jim and Kristie's funeral.

  "How? How did you get it?" Ruth croaked, quickly wiping the tears away lest they fall on the painting.

  "I saw an ad in the paper from an artist in Brown County. When I went to see him, I took your blue dress and the suit we bought for...." Breaking off, he watched Emily trace the outline of her mother and father's faces with delicate fingers.

  "He said he could paint it from the pictures I left of them and us."

  "This goes into a place of honor. Let's put it over the fireplace, Jack."

  Taking down the picture of the farm, Jack hung the painting over the mantle. Hugging him tightly, Ruth said, "Thank you dear, that's the most wonderful gift I ever received."

  Chapter 16

  "What's wrong?" Eric asked from behind the cash register where he was counting the day's receipts. Jack had left ten minutes ago, or at least that is what Eric thought. Now he reentered the store sending the bell over the door jingling.

  "Truck won't start," Jack said simply. "I knew the battery was getting old. I should have bought one a long time ago. What have you got that's cheap?"

  "Sorry, Jack, I sold the last one today," Eric said apologetically. "I should get some more in tomorrow."

  "I can't wait until tomorrow to go home."

  "Tell you what. We'll load your feed in my pickup. You drive it home and tomorrow I'll have one of the men put a new battery in yours. He can drive it out and pick up mine at the same time."

  "What are you going to use to get around in?" Jack asked.

  "Only place I'm going tonight is to the bank and you can drop me off there."

  Jack had to admit the pickup was nice. Eric had purchased it at the Ford dealership in Farmersburg two months before. The truck glided over the chuckholes. Jack was so absorbed he forgot about the 'Grand Canyon', the nickname for a giant-sized hole in this stretch of the road. Several of the farmers had filled it in but it kept washing out. As the truck hit the hole, it skidded sideways, then jerked back and came around throwing gravel. Fighting for control, Jack heard a loud clunk behind him.

  "Oh no," he groaned. "That's all I need."

  Finally, he pulled the pickup to the side of the road. With fear and dread, he examined it from one end to the other; not finding anything wrong, he heaved a sigh of relief.

  "Maybe it was a rock," he muttered, opening the door. What he saw next sent a chill straight through him. Behind the seat, its barrel pointing at him, was a Winchester 30.30, its powerful scope gleaming in the winter sunlight. Underneath the rifle were several pieces of canvas neatly folded. Jack felt numb. Climbing in, he gently closed the door, then laying his forehead on the steering wheel, he wept. Though Bob had tried to keep it from him, he had finally confided to Jack about the covers over the wheels and the killer's feet. He had also indicated the gun used to kill Lonnie Greggs was a Winchester 30-30.

  ****

  Bob Curry stood in the Johnson's kitchen. They sent Emily into the living room. Jack and Ruth sat at the table before him; the chores still waited, their uneaten supper in set on the counter.

  "After you called," Bob said to Jack and Ruth. "I spoke to the State Police. We were able to find out quite a bit about the man we know as Eric Grey."

  "What do you mean, 'know as Eric Grey'?" Jack demanded. "That's not his name?"

  "Oh his name is Eric, all right, Eric Warren. He changed his name after he was released from the state prison in Michigan City."

  Jack felt as if someone had slapped him.

  "What was he in there for?" he croaked.

  Curry said reluctantly, "Manslaughter. He did five years for killing a man in a bar fight. He was sentenced up to twenty years but was released early for good behavior."

  Their attention was drawn to Ike who had entered the room, a blast of cold air following him. Ike nodded. Curry sighed, the creases on his face deepening. To Ruth he seemed to age ten years before her eyes.

  "Well, looks like we've got our man. The rifle is the same type used to kill Lonnie and the covers are the same size as the tires on the Eric's old truck."

  "Ike, call Billy Bob. Tell him to meet us at the mill in five minutes. I want him involved in this."

  "I'm going with you," Jack said, getting to his feet.

  "Oh no you're not, not this time," Ike said. "We want him alive."

  Jack's face turned red. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't make the words come out.

  "He's right Jack. Let us handle it. If he sees you, it may set him off," Bob said wearily.

  Jack sunk back into his chair. The world was changing, shifting beneath him. Ruth laid a comforting hand on his arm, dabbing at her tears.

  "I thought he was my friend," Jack said.

  "We all did," Curry said.

  Switching off the bubble and headlights, Bob guided the patrol car to a stop behind one of the grain bins. Its bulk shielded them from Eric's sight. Two minutes later, Billy Bob joined them.

  Silently, they walked across the lot. Trying the door, Ike wasn't surprised to find it locked.

  "We'll have to break the glass,' Bob said. Turning his .38 around, he used the butt to shatter the window. In the quiet night, the breakin
g glass sounded like a small explosion.

  In the back room, Eric turned down the volume on the radio. Was it his imagination? No, there it was again. Someone was breaking into the store. Going to his desk, he opened the drawer and pulled his pistol from its hiding place. He shut off the lights.

  Jerking the door open, he caught the three police officers halfway through the store. Dropping down behind a display of handsaws, Bob Curry shouted in his most commanding voice.