Dwelling Place Read online

  Copyright

  ISBN 1-59789-055-3

  Copyright © 2006 by Kathleen Miller. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. niv®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  One

  June 14—Lake Charles, Louisiana

  “A pity her mama couldn’t be here to see this day,” Great-Aunt Alta said.

  Sophie Comeaux smiled at her only living relative and held her wedding bouquet a bit closer to her chest. Although she walked down the long aisle to the altar alone tonight, the presence of Mama and Daddy enveloped her.

  She wore Mama’s dress, cut down and hemmed to fit by one of the other marine wives, and a veil borrowed from the company commander’s sister. Tied with a white ribbon among the flowers in her bouquet was the porcelain rosebud Daddy gave her when she was accepted to nursing school at Tulane.

  “And they chose to marry on Flag Day. Isn’t it wonderful? I’m sure Jim won’t ever forget his anniversary.” This from a distant cousin of her future husband’s seated on the Hebert side of the chapel.

  Mrs. James Wilson Hebert III.

  Sophie Comeaux-Hebert.

  Sophie Hebert.

  The last one suited her best. Simple and uncomplicated like the life she and Jim would have. No matter where the Marine Corps sent her husband, like the Proverbs 31 woman she would be at his side doing her part.

  Through the white haze of her veil, she saw Jim and his groomsmen exchange glances, then look down the aisle toward her. At the sight of her groom, her heart did a flip-flop. No handsomer man ever wore the uniform of the United States Marine Corps.

  Her shoes began to pinch, and still she continued her slow and dignified pace. The white pumps had been chosen for looks and not long-distance walking. Unless Jim disapproved, however, she’d kick them off once they got to the reception.

  “I can’t believe she gave up her job for him.”

  Sophie glanced to her left and saw her coworkers sitting together. Julie, Pam, Lydia, and Noreen waved while Dr. Campbell merely nodded. The new girl who had taken her place, Crystal, smiled. In return she winked.

  She’d go back once Jim’s career settled down. A marine on the way up needed the flexibility to move when the call came.

  Closer now to the altar and she could see her future in-laws turning to stare. She got along well enough with Jim’s dad, but his mother. . .well, that relationship would have to grow over time.

  Sophie focused on Jim now, moving toward him like a ship following a beacon. Indeed, that’s how it felt to be in Jim’s world. First Lieutenant Hebert was a force of nature, a man who excelled in anything he attempted.

  She met his gaze and smiled, her fingers tightening around the bouquet of white roses and pink ribbons. Behind Jim on the rail, a fat white candle burned in memory of her parents and Jim’s grandmother, all three gone home to Jesus in the last year.

  Look, Mama and Daddy. Your little girl is getting married.

  “You look lovely,” the pastor whispered as he met her on the steps.

  To her right, two of the wives from Jim’s outfit wore matching pink dresses while the maid of honor, Jim’s best friend’s sister, wore dark fuchsia. She offered the three of them a smile. Though she barely knew them now, no doubt they would soon be fast friends.

  Sophie turned her head slightly so she could see Jim. In his dress uniform with sword and scabbard at his hip, he looked like a prince ready to carry her off for a happily-ever-after life.

  No, she wouldn’t miss school or work or anything about her old life. From this day forward, she would cleave to her husband and become one.

  With Jim as her husband, she needed nothing or no one else.

  Close enough to smell Jim’s aftershave, Sophie inhaled deeply. She looked into the depths of his brown eyes and saw, what? Concern, that was it. Worry that her shoes were pinching. Of course, Jim was thoughtful that way.

  “It’ll be fine,” she whispered.

  Jim grasped her hand and looked away. Had the pastor said something while she’d been focused on Jim? Probably.

  He squeezed her hand, and she thought of the promise he’d made last night after the rehearsal dinner. “You and I could make beautiful babies together, Sophie. Many beautiful babies.”

  Babies. Her heart did a flip-flop. Oh yes, she wanted many beautiful babies.

  Until she met Jim, her babies had been the ones in the nursery at Charity Hospital where she volunteered on weekends. Now, with a ring and a promise, she would have babies all her own. And that new life began today. Now. Here.

  I will remember every moment of this day forever.

  “Sophie, are you listening?”

  She blinked hard and looked up to see the reverend staring at her. On her right, the bridesmaids were snickering while, on her left, Jim looked positively disgusted.

  “Pay attention,” Jim whispered.

  Mouthing a quick “I’m sorry,” Sophie handed her bouquet off to the woman Jim had selected as matron of honor and took Jim’s hands. They were cold. Or maybe she was just flushed from all the excitement.

  “Wait!”

  The pastor set his Bible down and leaned over the podium to stare at Jim. “Did you say something, son?”

  Jim squeezed her hands, then released them. “I’m sorry, Sophie.” He stared past her for a minute, then turned to look into the congregation. “There won’t be a wedding today. I can’t do this.”

  After that, things began to move in slow motion. To her right, the maid of honor dropped the bouquet, and the rose splintered at Sophie’s feet.

  And so did Sophie’s heart.

  ❧

  Veterans Hospital, New Orleans

  “It’s me, Dad. Ezra. It’s Flag Day. I thought you might want a flag for your bed.”

  Robert Boudreaux barely spared Ezra a glance, choosing to grunt in agreement to the statement. Ezra went about the business of tying the small flag to the metal bed, all the while trying to think of what Jesus would do in this circumstance.

  But then Joseph the carpenter would never have ended up in Veterans Hospital looking twice his age and sporting a rap sheet that included burglary, petty theft, and the desertion of at least one wife and son, and probably more. And those were only the transgressions Ezra was aware of.

  Who knew how many more women like his mother had firsthand knowledge of this man’s wandering ways? For all he knew, he could have brothers and sisters all over Louisiana.

  Ezra checked the diagnosis on the label affixed to the bed. The old man was in sick bay for boozing again. Like as not he’d die of kidney failure or bad judgment before he hit sixty, if one of the women from his checkered past didn’t kill him first.

  Only through the Lord’s good graces had Ezra’s mother escaped the knowledge of who her husband really was. No, until Mama took sick, Dad kept his wild ways a secret. Either that or he walked a straight path for her. Ezra liked to think it was the latter.

  After she died, Dad ran off. But then Dad’s way of handling things was to run. Always had
been.

  Lord, don’t let me be like him.

  “What you wearing there?”

  Ezra straightened his spine and forced himself to stare into the eyes of the man who had abandoned him. “A Marine Corps uniform, sir.”

  His father chuckled. “You, a marine? I hardly think so. You were born bayou trash, and you’ll stay that way. Tell me another joke.”

  Fists clenched, Ezra called on all the faith he had to pray that God would intervene and turn this sour old man sweet again. “I’m a Green Beret, Dad. I just made major, and General Scanlon says I’m the kind of soldier he’s looking for to head up some highly classified special operations out of—”

  “There you go lying to me again.” He reached for the rail and shifted up far enough to press the button and call a nurse. “Hey, this kid’s bothering me. Thinks I’m his daddy. Come get rid of him. I ain’t got no son, not one I want to spend time with, anyway.”

  “Buck up, Marine,” Ezra said under his breath. “That’s the booze talking. You have nothing to do with the demons chasing him.”

  “You talking to yourself, boy? Gone crazy in the head or something?”

  A male nurse appeared at the door. “What’s the problem, sir?”

  His father fell back against the pillows. “Tell me what that man’s name tag says.”

  “Ezra Landry,” the nurse said. “So?”

  “So he ain’t my son, and I ain’t having no visitors lessen it’s my wife.”

  “I’m a Landry because he gave me up to his sister and brother-in-law to raise,” he told the nurse. “You have a wife, Dad?” Ezra fixed his attention on the old man, even though he wanted nothing more than to look away from the emaciated mess his father had become. “Since when?”

  “Since I say so,” he replied. “And she’s gonna come bail me out of this joint just as soon as she can.”

  The nurse gave Ezra a look that spoke volumes. Evidently Lieutenant Colonel Robert Boudreaux, Retired, was not the most popular patient at Veterans Hospital.

  “Guess what?” his father asked the nurse. “He just made major. Big deal. Back in ’Nam we had the majors fetching our bullets for us.”

  “All right, I’m going,” Ezra said. “You take care now. I’m shipping out a week from Thursday so I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

  “Don’t bother,” his father said with a wave of his hand. “I travel light. Never did have any use for young’uns.”

  Two

  August 2—Latagnier, Louisiana

  “Anybody home?” Sophie clutched the cassette tape of Sunday’s sermon in one hand and knocked with the other. “Mrs. Landry? It’s Sophie Comeaux from the church.”

  She stepped away from the door and checked the address on the card. 421B Riverside Avenue. Assuming the door on the left was A, this one would be B.

  “All right, I’ll try this one more time.”

  She pressed the bell and leaned against the door to be sure it rang. A split second after she heard the sound she was listening for, she heard another. It sounded like a thud followed by a weak cry.

  “Mrs. Landry? Hello? Are you all right?”

  Another muffled sound and Sophie decided someone inside was in trouble. She set the cassette on the porch rail and reached for the knob. The door swung open.

  “Mrs. Landry?” She peered inside and found a woman of mature years sitting on a rug cradling her arm.

  “Are you the sermon lady from church? Emmeline told me they’d be sending someone new.”

  Sophie knelt beside the woman and began to do a visual assessment. “Yes, ma’am, I’m new all right. Just moved to Latagnier last month. Figured if the Lord led me here He probably had work for me to do.”

  “Well, I like your gumption. Now I wonder if you might help me to the chair over there.”

  “Not yet, Mrs. Landry. Let me make sure you’re not injured. Oh, I’m a nurse,” she added.

  She checked vitals as best she could while carrying on a conversation with the talkative woman. Other than a possible fracture of her right wrist, she seemed fine.

  “I’m going to need to call the ambulance,” Sophie said. “They’ll get that sore wrist patched up.”

  “Thank you, dear.” She paused. “Do you work at the hospital here in Latagnier?”

  “No, ma’am.” Sophie rose. “I work for the state at the children’s home.”

  She studied her injured wrist. “Do you now?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I take care of the babies.” Sophie made it all the way to the ancient black telephone in the hall before she stopped and went back. “Mrs. Landry, how about I drive you?”

  “Oh, I would hate to trouble you. I’m sure you’ve got a husband and children waiting for you at home.”

  “No, ma’am, maybe someday but not today.” She helped Mrs. Landry to stand. “Now let’s get your purse and any medicines you’re taking.”

  “Do you love children, Miss Comeaux, or are you just there for the paycheck?” Sophie’s surprise must have shown. “Forgive an old woman her curiosity. I happen to have a soft spot in my heart for orphans. I was one for a time, you see, and until my husband passed on, the other side of this house was always filled with dear souls with no mama or daddy to care for them.”

  “Is that so?”

  “How I do miss those days.” Mrs. Landry smiled and placed her good hand atop Sophie’s. “Well, before we go, could we pray first?”

  ❧

  May 30, two years later

  “My grandson’s coming to see me, Sophie. I’m going to ask him to stay on permanently.”

  Sophie gulped down the heavily sweetened coffee along with what she longed to say and somehow managed a smile. Nell Landry tossed the words casually across the table, continuing to stir heavy cream into her Louisiana chicory-laden coffee as if she hadn’t just uttered a statement that would change everything.

  The woman had no children. How then could she have a grandchild? “Miss Nell, that’s impossible.”

  Her friend’s familiar broad grin emerged while she waved away the statement with a sweep of her blue-veined hand. “That’s what you think,” she said with a wink. “If I say I’ve got a grandson, then I do.”

  Sophie expelled a long breath. Of course. Nell had quite a reputation as a practical joker. The imaginary grandson surely had to be another prank. If she had a real grandson, he would most likely want to live in the other half of the duplex rather than with his grandmother in 421B.

  She also would have mentioned him before now.

  At least she hadn’t made the move yet. There was still plenty of time to find another place for herself and the girls. Of course, with the adoption still pending, none of the homes she could afford would likely pass inspection.

  Nell’s place, with its cozy rooms and close proximity to the twins’ school, had already garnered the approval of the caseworker. A change in the plans at this late date might jeopardize the entire process and possibly even send the precious five-year-olds back into the state’s care.

  Sophie shook her head and prayed away the thought. By the end of today’s visit, the truth would prevail.

  In the meantime, she decided to play along. “So tell me about this grandson of yours. Why haven’t I met him?”

  A shadow of something indefinable crossed her lined face. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone. “He’s been away. In the military.” She pushed aside the delicate porcelain cup and reached for the bundle Sophie had placed between them. “I know you have a. . .certain bias against that sort of fellow so I haven’t mentioned him.”

  Rather than comment, she clutched the package to her chest. Only Nell knew about that time in her life. Well, Nell, the Lord, and a few hundred disappointed wedding guests back in Lake Charles.

  “Enough of that now. I can see where your mind is headed, and I’m not going to let you go there. Not when there are so many other nice memories you could dwell on. Besides, you told me you gave that situation to the Lord. Isn’t He big enough
to handle your worries?”

  “He is,” Sophie said. “And I really am over it.”

  “If you were, honey, you wouldn’t have to work so hard to try to convince me. Remember it’s in His hands.” Before Sophie could comment, Nell spoke again. “Let me see what you brought today. This looks too big to be this week’s sermon tape.”

  Sophie relaxed and began to clear the table of the refreshments Nell insisted precede their twice-weekly visits. “Consider it an early birthday present. Do you like it?”

  Only the soft hum of the window-unit air conditioner answered the question. Sophie settled the cups and plates on the immaculately clean kitchen counter and slipped back into the dining room to find the older woman staring at the book cradled in her hands.

  “It’s a Bible,” Nell whispered. “The King James Version just like my old one.” She paused. “Only this one has print big enough for me to read without my magnifying glass.” Her smile went soft. “Oh, Sophie. . .”

  “So you do like it?”

  “Oh no, Sophie, I love it. Now I shall be able to read aloud again. With my other Bible, it was all I could do to hold the magnifying glass and understand the words, old woman that I am.”

  “You might have me bested in years, Miss Nell, but I would wager between the two of us, you’re the younger in spirit.” Sophie returned to her seat and shook her head. “I didn’t know you preferred to read scripture aloud.”

  Nell cradled the Bible to her chest with one hand and reached across the table to touch Sophie’s sleeve with the other. “Sweet child, if you only knew how many hours I spent at my grandmama’s knee listening to her read the Good Book. There’s nothing like hearing scripture spoken aloud, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” She set the Bible on the table and opened its cover. “Didn’t anyone read you the Bible, Sophie?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Oh, now there’s a wrong I can right. Let me see here. . . .” Her words trailed off as she turned to the first page of the book of Genesis. “Here ’tis.” Soon the majestic words of the Creator floated across the dining room in the slightly shaky voice of the dearest lady on earth.