Welsh Wildfire Page 9

  He changed quickly. Less than a minute later, Jess was at the front door in shorts, T-shirt and sneakers. Josh tried not to ogle her perfect figure, but found it hard. He bent to tighten his own laces, wondering if she was eyeing him up too. Then figured she probably wasn’t. His own outfit wasn’t as form fitting as hers. And nowhere near as new.

  She smiled at him. “Ready?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  Three miles later as they arrived back at the house, Josh realized not only had Jess kept pace, she wasn’t as out of breath as he was.

  Dr. Thomas stood at the door and handed them both a towel.

  “Thank you, sir,” Josh said. He rubbed the towel over his face and then stuck it around his neck. “She’s good.”

  Dr. Thomas grinned. “Olwyn was cross country champion four years running.”

  “You never told me that.” Josh turned to Jess. “That’s cheating.”

  She laughed. “Would you have let me come if I had?”

  “I wouldn’t have gone easy on you.”

  “Easy?” she scoffed. “You call that easy, Mr. I-can-barely-catch-my-breath-now. And how come I’m the cheat?”

  “It takes one to know one. And I suggest a rematch tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “You’re on.”

  Dr. Thomas pointed inside. “Shower, change, and then eat or we’ll be late. Bacon and toast on the side in the kitchen.”

  Josh grabbed his plate taking it upstairs with him. He kept meeting Jess on the landing as they dodged in and out of the bathroom. His hand touched hers, heat charging through him.

  Her gaze held his. “We should go.”

  He nodded, reluctantly. But he knew he couldn’t tell her how he felt until he’d done what she suggested and talked things out with God. That seemed a very irreverent way of putting it, but that’s what he had to do.

  ****

  The chapel was smaller than he’d imagined. Stained glass windows set in stone walls, a cross at the front behind the plain pulpit and tiny angled wooden pews that were uncomfortable to sit on. All a far cry from the huge hall, individual chairs, and loads of space that he was used to.

  Jess sat beside him. “It’s so no one falls asleep,” she told him as he wriggled in a futile effort to get comfortable.

  “They’d fall off.”

  She giggled, stopping at a disapproving look from her father. “Where do you think the expression ‘drop off to sleep’ comes from?” she whispered.

  Dr. Thomas’s frown deepened. “Olwyn…”

  “Sorry, Da.” She turned back to Josh. “And no enjoying yourself in chapel either,” she whispered.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’re here to worship God and not to have fun.”

  He didn’t have a chance to answer as the service began. The whole concept of not enjoying church seemed alien to him, but then who was he to judge? The organist began playing and everyone rose for the first hymn. The singing of “And Can It Be” amazed him. There were only forty or so people packed into the small building, but the singing raised the roof.

  Unlike his church where only the worship team normally sang while everyone else just clapped along or swayed. Here everyone gave their all as they raised their voices in worship. The organ stopped before verse four of the hymn, and the congregation carried on unaccompanied, each voice blended together in perfect unity. The entire building seemed to erupt in a chorus of praise and worship.

  Josh found his eyes filling as something inside him moved. The singing stuck a chord inside his heart of stone. Someone was chipping away at it with a chisel.

  My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth and followed Thee.

  The organ came in for the final verse, and Josh rubbed a hand over his face hoping no one would notice. A Bible reading and two further hymns followed, before Pastor Bryn opened his Bible.

  The sun shone directly onto Josh as the pastor began to speak.

  “Over the last few weeks we’ve been looking at Jonah and how he tried to run and hide from God. It didn’t work. Before we carry on with that series I want to explore the theme a little more and apply it to all of us.”

  Josh shifted. This was a bad idea. Was this guy preaching directly at him or something?

  Pastor Bryn continued. “Running and hiding occurs multiple times in the Bible and let’s face it, it’s an automatic reaction. It goes right back to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden in Genesis. But it also happens with some figures you wouldn’t expect. All great leaders in their own right. All powerful men, used by God to lead his people and spread his word, yet each doubted and ran and hid because they were as human as you and I.”

  Josh rubbed the back of his neck as Pastor Bryn began to list men like Moses, David, Peter, Jonah, and Barak. Josh twisted his hands in his lap. What more do you want from me, Lord? You already took my congregation, my job, my home and my family. I gave You my soul and You took everything…

  Voices echoed in his mind. Jess telling him that “pride comes before a fall.”

  Dad speaking to him the day after the tornado. “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away and we don’t always understand why, Josiah.”

  Jess again. “There’s an awful lot of I in there and not much God.”

  Josh dug his nails into the palm of his hand. I was doing Your will, Lord, and You just…

  Pastor Bryn’s voice came front and center. “Jeremiah 23 says we can’t run and hide. No matter how much we try. Jonah ran a long way in the opposite direction, yet God found him. Following Christ isn’t easy. We have to give up everything. That’s what Our Lord says and asks of us. Remember, Jesus himself said we should daily take up our cross and follow him. Without all the things of this life that weigh us down, for with them we, like that camel, will never get through the eye of the needle.”

  Josh could feel a huge weight on him, pressing him down. He had to get out. God was in the chapel looking for him and he wasn’t…he couldn’t…

  He stood and slid past the others in the pew, running to the door. His chest tight and constricted, his tie and collar choking him. He struggled for breath, falling to his knees on the chapel steps, salt burning his eyes. His vision started to fade, slowly from the edges, his peripheral vision going first.

  Jess appeared at his side. She put a paper bag over his face. “Breathe into this,” she said. Her hand was cool through the fabric of his shirt as she rubbed his back.

  He tried to do what she wanted, but he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything expect this huge weight on his shoulders and a Voice calling his name.

  Was this what dying felt like? Had God finally called time on him?

  Finally, his breathing eased. He glanced up. “Sorry. I made a right fool of myself.”

  “It’s fine. What happened?”

  The organ started up again for the last hymn. “Not here,” he said. “I can’t face everyone. I have to get out of here.”

  Jess nodded. “We’ll go to Rhawadr Ewynnol—Swallow Falls. I’ll drive. We’ll stop at the garage and pick up something to eat on the way.”

  ****

  Josh used the last of the loose change from his pocket to pay the entrance fee and followed Jess through the narrow gate into the dark, tree-lined tunnel.

  It was cooler in here compared to the blistering heat of a few moments ago in the parking lot. He gripped Jess’s hand tightly as they walked the tree-covered path with a huge abyss on one side and a rocky wall on the other. Again, he was conscious of God being all around him, tugging at him, even calling his name. They reached the foot of the falls, and Josh raised his eyes upwards.

  From several hundred feet above him, the water cascaded over the rocks. “Wow…” he managed.

  Jess tugged his hand. “Come on. Further up.”

  They climbed the path and reached the bridge half way. He was surrounded by the roaring of the water, the birds singing, and leaves rustling in the trees.

  And deep within him something twisted and
broke and a Voice called to him. The verse from Psalm 42 ricocheted through him. Deep calls to deep in the roar of Your waterfalls; all Your waves and breakers have swept over me.

  Josh dropped to his knees, tears filling his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, his arms fell by his sides as he was completely overwhelmed by the presence of God.

  Jess’s hand cupped his face, her fingers cool on his overheated skin. “Josh, what’s wrong?”

  He glanced up to find her kneeling beside him. “God was there in the chapel. And He’s here on the mountain. I can feel Him. I can’t hide any longer and nor do I want to, but…”

  Jess rubbed his hand. “He wants you back, bach.”

  “But after what I did…”

  “You did nothing wrong. I’ve read the reports on line. You dug with your bare hands to rescue people. Those that died went straight from church into God’s presence, and I can’t think of a better way to go. But if you mean the way you turned your back on Him and doubted His love, then everyone’s done that.”

  He looked at her, speech beyond him now. Tears streamed and his chest ached with the emotions filling him.

  “He’s waiting for you to just turn and run into his arms. Psalm 42 says, ‘as the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs for You, my God.’”

  Her voice mixed with the roar of the waterfall, his soul echoing her words. “’My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng. Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.’”

  The waterfall pounded behind him as Jess’s words tumbled over him and for the first time in a couple of months, Josh found himself swept away by God’s love and mercy, carried away by the arms he’d turned his back on.

  When he opened his eyes, the sun was lower in the sky. He rose from his knees and sat on the ground. He glanced beside him. Jess was still there. “How long?” he asked.

  “A couple of hours. Are you OK?”

  “Better than I have been for a long time.” He wiped his hand over his cheeks, found them damp, and took the tissue she offered. “Thanks.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah.” He leaned back against the railings of the bridge, picnicking with her as the waterfall thundered below them. Once his hunger was sated, he glanced at her. “There’s something else I can’t hide.”

  “What’s that?”

  He leaned closer to her. “My feelings for you.”

  Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, making her even more beautiful to him. “Me?”

  Josh cupped her cheek, his fingers stroking her skin gently. “Yes, you.” He gently brushed his lips against hers. Then pulling back, he held her gaze.

  Her lips parted. Her eyes, a deep shade of blue, pulled him in. She hardly seemed to breathe.

  “I ran away to a small town in the middle of a foreign land, but I found God and I found you, and I don’t want to lose either of you again.” He captured her lips, kissing her again, pouring as much of himself into it as possible, wanting to leave her in no doubt as to his feelings.

  As he broke off, the sky on the horizon was tinged orange. Jess looked at him. “Sunset already?”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s too early.” He took a deep breath. “I can smell smoke.”

  Jess took a deep breath, wrinkling her nose. “That’s not good.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Josh dialed the station. “Sam, it’s Josh. What gives? I can see the sky turning orange from here.”

  “Massive fire in Snowdonia National Park. Where are you?”

  “Swallow Falls. What are the coordinates and I’ll meet you there. It’ll be faster than coming back into town and you guys having to wait for me.” He handed the phone back and looked at Jess, tugging her to her feet. “I gotta go. I’m sorry. Will you be able to get someone to come and pick you up?”

  Jess shook her head. “Don’t need to. I’ll drop you off.”

  Josh nodded. “Fine, but we gotta run.”

  12

  Jess sat up all night with her parents, waiting for the news which never came. The sky was orange as the fire raged. The television news said it was the biggest fire in years, and back up had been called in from several adjoining counties, including full-time crew from a couple of the bigger cities. The fire still blazed out of control the following day as Jess tiredly went on her rounds.

  The gossip was beginning to grate on her, and by the time she reached the coffee shop to grab a bite to eat, she’d had enough. “Firefighters don’t start fires,” she told one group of women around a table. “Neither do pastors.”

  “I thought he was an American politician,” one woman said. “And he starts fights.”

  Jess sighed. “He did not start that fight. He put himself in harm’s way to stop it. His father is the American President, and yes, he’s a pastor. His church in the US was destroyed two months ago during the service by a severe storm.”

  “I remember hearing about that on the news,” Mrs. Hughes said. “A tornado wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Jess paused as another fire engine tore through the town, sirens blazing. “And now he’s out there risking his life, right alongside your husbands, sons, and brothers, to put that fire out. Surely that has to stand for something, doesn’t it?”

  She hadn’t thought she could be so worried about one person. But that kiss on the side of the mountain, the waterfall thundering beneath them, had set her heart ablaze in a way that no firefighter could ever put out, no matter how talented he was. And she knew for sure he had written his name on her heart as sure as if he’d chiseled it out with his own hand.

  It was another two days before Josh arrived home just as she was leaving for work. He fell into her open arms and kissed her. She hugged him tightly. He stank of smoke and grime, and his hands and face were filthy. “Are you hurt?”

  He shook his head. “Just tired.”

  “Then go shower and sleep. I’ll be around when I finish work.” She watched him go inside and then jumped in her car to drive to work.

  When she returned home that evening, Josh still looked exhausted. She sat next to him on the couch. “How was it?”

  “Bad. The fire was on two fronts. The north one is finally out so we were sent home. Relief crews are damping down while new crews are tackling the blaze to the east. Last I heard that was under control.”

  “Two fires?”

  “North one was a campfire that got out of control. The eastern one is rumored to be arson, but it’s too early to tell.”

  She ran her fingers over his sleeve. “The rumor is you’re starting them.”

  “Aye,” he said. “I’ve heard that one.”

  “I set them straight.” She yawned. “I think I might have an early night. No one slept much the past few nights with you blokes out there.”

  He kissed her. “Goodnight, sweet one. I’m not going to be up long. Could I bother you for something to help me sleep?”

  She hesitated but nodded. “Sure, I’ll put a couple of pills in your room for you.”

  “Thank you.” He paused. “I know it’s not the answer, but I’m so tired I can’t sleep, if that makes sense.”

  “It does. ’Night.”

  ****

  Josh lay on the bed, a faint breeze coming through the open window. Through the net curtains he could see the moon and stars, a faint haze obscuring them. He didn’t think he’d ever get the stench of burning out of his skin, hair, or nostrils, but somehow he’d managed it.

  After taking the pills Jess had given him, he turned onto his side, opened his Bible, and began to read the passages. He read until his eyes burned but still sleep eluded him. Rising, he left the room and tapped on Jess’s bedroom door.

  “Just a minute…” He hea
rd the sound of footsteps padding across the floor and the door creaked open. “Josh? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  “Nothing’s wrong and I’m fine. I just…” His voice faded as he caught a glimpse of her night dress. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

  “It’s just after 2 AM. Please, Jess…”

  “OK. Go and make some coffee, and I’ll find my robe.” She tilted her head. “And maybe you should find some clothes as well.”

  Josh looked down at himself, finding he only had boxers on. His cheeks flamed. “Ah, yeah.”

  “OK,” came Dr. Thomas’s voice from his bedroom door. “And now the reputation of the pair of you is shot, and I’ll tell you for why.”

  “There’s no need, Da,” Jess broke in rolling her eyes.

  Her father grinned. “Good. Some of us have to be up early to take the Sunday school kids on their outing. So keep the noise down.”

  “We will.” She looked at Josh. “I’ll go get dressed and see you downstairs.”

  “So will I.” Josh headed back to his room and pulled on the first things that came to hand. He then went downstairs and made the coffee. By the time he sat in the lounge with both cups, Jess came in to join him. She sat beside him and curled her legs underneath herself, leaning against him. He wrapped his arm around her, gently stroking her hair.

  “What’s bothering you?” she asked.

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that. Did you not take the pills I left for you?”

  “I took them, but my mind is too active.” He let her hair fall through his fingers. “I was reading about the tower of Siloam. Did you know that Jesus healed the blind man by putting mud on his eyes and telling him to go wash in the pool of Siloam? He healed someone in the same town where all those people died.”

  She nodded.

  “Anyway, I was reading and it got me to thinking about Hope Street. Matt says they’re rebuilding the church. It’ll take about a year or so, but yeah, they reckon it’ll rise from the rubble and be bigger than before.”