Whispered Southern Secrets (Magnolia Grove #11)

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

John David

When I wasn’t helping Mama with music for services, writing sermons with Dad, studying scripture and the history surrounding the time, I focused my energy on the people of Magnolia Grove. My father was right, and his advice has been paying off. By helping the people and getting more involved within the community, it helps me build bridges. If someone needs help, I am there. I’m the Batman of Magnolia Grove. Okay, maybe not Batman. I’m no Bruce Wayne with all the expensive high-tech toys. I was… I am the Captain America of Magnolia Grove.

I’ve painted fences. Delivered groceries. I lend a hand to businesses when they are shorthanded. I’m the designated driver on the weekends, no judgment, I just want people to get home safely. I mended my relationship with Landon and helped him communicate with Olivia. That might’ve benefited me some. By pushing those two back together it also put me in a position to be around Honey Beaumont.

My greatest temptation. The only part of my previous life I want to dive back into. One more night of sin. I knew that by becoming a preacher it wasn’t going to wipe away all my desires. I might’ve washed my sins away but like any other person I still have to deal with the urge to sin day after day. I get angry. I get jealous. I get greedy—like when I grabbed too many cookies the other day. More than anything, I still face desire and lust every time I see Honey. Every time I close my eyes I relive that night.

I didn’t go and become a monk. I can still date. I’m allowed to marry. The problem is I don’t know if I can date Honey. I’d like to do it right. We date, marriage, and then family. Would she even want to date me? Everyone in town is going to be watching us. There’s also the question if Honey would want to be the pastor’s wife and start a family in Magnolia Grove. I’m not sure if this is where she plans to lay down her roots.

I shake my head and laugh. I’ve lost my mind. When she visited as a kid in the summer we never talked. The only time I interacted with her was when we shared one night together and I didn’t even know who she was. Now I’m sitting here mapping out our future together. Meanwhile Honey avoids me at every turn. She’s still attracted to me. I can see it when our eyes lock. The connection is there. I know it is, even though I wish it wasn’t.

Chewing on my straw, I think about what I should do next. There’s a cool breeze as I sit outside at the River’s End. It’s the middle of the day so they’re not busy. I’m sitting here enjoying my view of the river and eating the best burger when I hear Sheriff Parker and Anthony Harrison’s voices.

“The kids aren’t bad. They’re misguided,” the sheriff tells Anthony.

Anthony takes a seat at one of the vacant tables. “Magnolia Grove is small. There’s not enough in the budget to offer an enticing paycheck.”

I pick up my glass of Coke and walk over. “Mind if I join you gentleman?”

“Sure, preacher man. Have a sit,” Anthony offers.

“I apologize for ease dropping but I heard y’all might be needin’ some help.”

Sheriff Parker releases a heavy sigh. “We need help in the juvenile department. Magnolia Grove needs a juvenile officer. But the pay wouldn’t be great. I doubt anyone is going to want the position.”

“Me.”

They both turn to stare at me. “You?”

“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to find a way to help, get involved, and that’s kind of my job already. I have military training, studied a little bit of psychology, and I’m willing to do whatever else it is I need to do. And as far as payment, I have my pension so I’m okay with low pay.”

This is what I need. I’m ecstatic at the idea of helping these teens turn their lives around. I could make a real difference. These kids are coming to a fork in the road that could determine the rest of their lives, and I could help guide the on the right course. Not only spiritually, but for their lives while in this world.

“Brother Johnny David,” Sheriff Parker begins.

“J.D.,” Anthony says at the same time.

They turn to one another and the sheriff holds his hand out for Anthony to continue. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. This is a lot of time for little pay. You need to know what you’re getting into. Court dates. One headache after another. And a lot of feelings of defeat and heartache for these kids and the system. Late night phone calls. Early mornings.”

My lips twitch. “Sounds a lot like pastoral work.”

I’ve been juggling working at the court house and the church for the last three weeks. It’s been more rewarding than I could’ve ever imagined. But the most amazing news came when Landon called to ask me to officiate his wedding. It’ll be my first wedding. One, I’m honored that someone actually wanted me to do the service and not my dad. Two, I can’t help but be a little emotional that I was there as these two rekindled their relationship. Now I’ll be joining them together in front of their loved ones and God. And third I bet Honey is going to be part of the wedding party—or at the very least she’ll be there in attendance.

I decide to take my lunch break at Mimi’s Gasoline Grove. The bell above the door rings as I step inside. This is the only gas station I’ve ever been inside that didn’t smell like a gas station. It’s a mix of lavender, mint, and fried catfish. My eyes search out Honey.

She comes from the back and calls out a cheerful “Hello.” That beautiful cheerful smile falters when her honey colored eyes find me standing in the doorway.

Like the nervous idiot that I am, I hold my hand up and wave. “Hi—Hello—Hidey.” A tortured laugh escapes me and I decide it’d be best if I didn’t make eye contact with her. I look around the store for anything to latch onto.

“Well, hi, hello, hidey to you, too. Should we throw in a howdy? It feels like that should be thrown in there.”

“Maybe. I’d say ola and aloha, too, but might get a bit lengthy then.” She makes a noncommittal hum. I follow her to the register counter and wait until she’s situated in her chair before I speak. “Did you hear the good news?”

“As in the Gospel?”

“I’d hope you’d heard about that. Otherwise I’m going to have to assume you’d be sleeping during my last sermon.”

“I would never. So you’re referring to Livy and Landon?”

“Yes. Oliva and Landon.”

“Have they picked a preacher, yet?”

“I believe so.”

“Aw, did they ask your dad?”

“Nooo.” I draw the word out.

“Surely they didn’t pick someone from outta town. But I get it. If Brother Brewster was busy and already booked for that date. Not a lot of options in Magnolia Grove.”

“They did choose a Brother Brewster. Brother Johnny David Brewster.”

“I bet his calendar was wide open.” Her mouth twists into the most mischievous smile. My chest tightens with longing. I love our moments of banter probably more than I should. She catches me staring at her mouth and her lips part slightly.

The bell above the door rings and Honey jumps back from the counter like it zapped her. With the energy buzzing between us, maybe it did. Mrs. Lamshire hurries toward us with eyes alight with joy.

“Brother Johnny David,” she coos. “Anthony has been singing your praises with all the work you’ve been doing.”

“Um, I’m just filling a position that needed to be filled, ma’am.” I’m extremely uncomfortable with this attention. “How have you been, Mrs. Lamshire?”

“Good, good. You know, my daughter is moving back? She finished her master’s program. Did I mention she’s single? She’s single. You’re unattached as well, Brother Johnny David.”

I can feel Honey’s eyes on me. This isn’t the first time one of the women of the church have tried to set me up with a granddaughter, daughter, niece, cousin, or themselves. Apparently everyone’s been whispering about the rounds I’ve been making around town. Those were supposed to be done lowkey. I did it to build bridges between me and those individuals, not for recognition or to be considered a worthy candidate for a future husband. I have to tread this carefully. The last thing I need to do is have an offended mother on my hands.

“I am unattached, ma’am. Work has kept me busy.” I’m bombing. My father never mentioned these kind of encounters in our talks.

Mrs. Lamshire beams at me. “Busy doing the Lord’s work. You have grown up to be a fine young man.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I sure do appreciate that.” I gulp and turn pleading eyes to Honey.

She rolls her eyes and reaches behind her to grab a to-go box. “Here’s your order, Brother J.D. Hurry along and get it to your mama before it gets cold. I don’t want Mimi getting on to me because you’re standing here yapping.”

Mrs. Lamshire huffs. “Hello Honey. Since when do you care about what your poor grandparents think?”

Her words are clipped and fueled with anger. I want to shove myself between Mrs. Lamshire and Honey to shield her from her harsh tone. If I know anything about Honey Beaumont it’s that she thinks the world of Minnie and Millard Montgomery. I learned that from the first night we spoke and within in the first ten meetings. Honey’s pretty eyes narrow into slits. Anger swells in my chest on her behalf, but I have to remain level headed.

“Mrs. Lamshire. That wasn’t very kind, ma’am. You know as well as I do, Honey loves her grandparents. She’s here helping, isn’t she?”

“Because nobody else will take her,” she mumbles. In a voice filled with mock sweetness she says louder, “I only came in here for a sweet tea, but I remember someone telling me that the last time they had tea from here it tasted soured.”

Honey’s jaw drops, her slitted eyes look murderous, and rage radiates from her. I rush around the counter and grab her by the shoulders before she climbs over. “Hey, hey.” I whisper in her ear. “Let it go. Let it go. C’mon.”

“I’ll see you Sunday, Brother Johnny David. My Peggy will be there.”

I don’t release Honey until Mrs. Lamshire drives away in her car. “Don’t let her have that kind of control over you,” I whisper to Honey.

“If she’s so eager to have a relationship with Jesus I can assist in her meeting him.”

“I doubt that.” I tell her. She’s just upset.

“You’re right. That bitch isn’t going to heaven.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I bet Satan doesn’t even want her. Where do the ones that neither side wants?”

“Whoa!” I put my hands together to signal ‘Time Out.’ “You’re upset. You’re feelings and emotions are valid. But instead of condemning something to death and burning in hell for all eternally, because that’s a little extreme, let’s talk about it. Pray on it.”

Honey purses her lips together. “I don’t know if I should pray to God what I’m thinking.”

“He already knows.”

“He does… He does! So He knows the circumstances and I’m not one hundred percent certain on this, but I feel like He knows she’s the problem.”

Admittedly, I feel protective of Honey. The snarky judgmental comment was out of line. Completely uncalled for. However, it’s not my place to condemn. I don’t want Honey to allow those negative thoughts to consume her. She’s too beautiful a person to allow such hate to stain her soul. There’s no need to wish death, even if it’s in a joking manner. There’s a brief silence of me allowing her to calm down. I ignore the impulse to hold her. Any other member of the church I would’ve offered physical touch in a moment of comfort. But I don’t trust myself with Honey. Even if the hug didn’t lead to anything, it could never be completely harmless, because I’d enjoy too much. This pull between us… Does she still feel the attraction?

Who was I to her? A past mistake? I’m not her preacher, that’s for sure. I’d like to be. Help her in any way I can. Right now, I’m going to help ease her anger, be patient, and offer comfort. I’m going to do what I’ve been called to do. I’m going to minister Honey.

“In the book of James, I can’t remember exactly where it is, but it reads, ‘ But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. ’ And I take that to mean, people underestimate how powerful words are. We have the ability to make people feel loved or cursed. But people lash out in anger. Makes you wonder if we even have full control over that part of our body?”

“If the tongue is evil and full poison, what does that say about a preacher? You use your words. Your tongue.”

She knows quite a bit about my tongue. But I push that thought away and inhale a deep breath. It shouldn’t be a challenge to offer her the comfort and affection that with anyone else I’d give freely. We have a history. We have an attraction. But that shouldn’t matter in ministry.

“Now this verse I do remember where to find it. Proverbs 15:1. A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh words stirs up anger .”

“Are you trying to say if I’d said something sweet in response it would’ve changed her impression of me?”

“I’m saying anger only fuels more anger. Hate leads to more hate. And only pain comes from it. But kind words can slowly quell that burning rage. It can subdue their anger. More than anything, they don’t hurt them or your soul. Because let’s be honest, nobody feels better after saying hurtful things. It drains our energy rather than renews our spirit.”

She’s quiet. Lost in her own thoughts. I decide not to push the issue. “I’m going to get going. I’ll hopefully see you, Sunday.”

As I place my hand on the door, Honey’s soft voice stops me. “Thank you for taking the time to calm me down. I guess I shouldn’t let people get to me.” The faintest hint of a smile teases on her lips.

“You’re welcome. You have a blessed day, darlin’.”