This is part 1 of my first Christian romance novel. Parts 1-4 are a preview to the complete novel available to PLM+ members. CLICK HERE for more information about the complete ebook and “Chat with the Author” page.
Prologue
“Mindy, I’m starting my new job in Sunset in a few days. I’ve talked to you about the reasons for my move for a long time. I only hope you understand why I’m leaving Houston. You would love the log cabin I built there. It’s a lot bigger than what we dreamed of raising Adam in, but it really doesn’t feel like home without the two of you.
“I want to get away from a lot of things here and move to a smaller and quieter place, but the way I feel right now, I don’t know if I’m really leaving anything behind. Sunset is the kind of town I was looking for when I decided to make a move. Maybe I just need to give myself more time.
“Just because I’ve moved three hours away doesn’t mean I won’t come to visit. Your Mom says I’m abandoning you and Adam by moving. That’s not it at all. You know I’ll be back to see the two of you. I miss you... I love you, Mindy.”
The Reverend Jacob Jennings stood motionless for a moment, then turned toward his truck and walked over the green manicured lawn past the rows of carved stones, each a gray granite reminder of the same sadness and loss he suffered thirteen years before.
Chapter 1
Jake Jennings was typically punctual to the point of compulsion. Since this was his first day as chaplain and bereavement counselor at Sunset Hospice, he didn’t want to be late. Late for Jake meant twenty minutes early for most everyone else. He left the secure and comfortable confines of his recently acquired Central Texas ranch and drove through the gently sloping hills past slowly decaying farmhouses and mobile homes that were either abandoned or, at the very least, needed to be. His commute, if you could call it that after his many years living in the urban gridlock of Houston, took a mere eleven minutes with Texas’ 75 mile per hour speed limit on rural farm roads.
The only traffic congestion on this unpredictably warm February morning was a truck plodding along, pulling a large trailer of hay rolls. Jake thought it almost comical that this particular make and model of truck would be going so slow. Those who drove them were the most aggressive on the road, at least in Jake’s opinion. After passing the truck and getting a friendly wave from the elderly farmer Jake drove through the dense line of ancient pecan trees that extended beyond his ranch and the borders of Sunset.
As he drove into town, a place he was only beginning to call home after almost a year of a slow transition, it struck him how this was a town that hadn’t really changed in its one-hundred-and-fifty-year history. It had only adapted. The saloon was now the Sunset Diner. The apothecary was the Barkemeyer Drug Store. The sheriff’s office and courthouse were now, well, the sheriff’s office and courthouse. Some things never change.
Jake arrived at the Sunset Hospice office building… no, scratch that… office house at seven forty-three. In Sunset there were no office buildings per se. With a population of about eight thousand on a good day, there weren’t that many offices of any kind. Jake knew the door would be locked until exactly seven fifty-five when Sharon, the director, would unlock the door for anyone that didn’t know the door code. Why he arrived this early had more to do with compulsion and nervousness than practicality. It also kept him from having to think too much about why he came here in the first place.
Jake sat in his car and reviewed for the third time this morning his list of things to do during his first day on the job, at least at this job. His eight years of tenure as a chaplain with Ventura Hospice Corporation continued at the Sunset branch. He knew exactly what he was supposed to do on the job. Well, most of what he was to do. His new position also included some new responsibilities. The Sunset Hospice office was much smaller than the one he left in Houston. They consolidated some positions here due to the lower census. A new challenge was just what Jake thought he needed to take his mind off what he left behind.
As soon as he saw Sharon unlock the door Jake took a deep breath and quietly said a prayer. “Lord, you know why I left the difficulties of Houston behind and came here. Help me find what I’m looking for, ‘a peace that passes all understanding,’ and when I find it give me the grace to accept it as your gift.” He grabbed his satchel and headed for the door clicking the remote lock for his car and hearing the inexplicably comforting “beep” as he headed up the porch and into the front door.
Sharon was there to greet Jake as he walked into the office. “Good morning, Jake. You ready for the big dance?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. The two-month leave was getting kind of boring. I think I’m ready to get back to work.”
Sharon smiled, grabbed him by the arm and led him to her office. “I know we met last week to do the preliminary paperwork and stuff, but now that you’re mine, I have something else in store for you, your TB test. Let’s get that over with, shall we?”
Jake was a 42-years-old six-foot-tall tough guy that loved hiking, camping and could hit a competition target almost a mile away with a rifle, but turned into a sniveling fool at the thought of a needle pointed in his direction. He instantly started to sweat. “Well, if we have to....”
“Yes, we do, but it will be over with in a minute. I know how much you love this part of the job, so I decided to get it out of the way first.” Sharon closed the door to her office as they walked in not even taking time to introduce Jake to anyone else in the house. “Your fear of needles is legendary in Houston, Jake, but it will remain our little secret here at Sunset.”
“Wait, how do you know I don’t like needles?”
Sharon Johansson, RN, Executive Director of Sunset Hospice also took on the role of Ventura’s top private investigator. “I know quite a lot about you, actually. I don’t let just anyone work here.” She had her back turned to Jake not to be impolite, but to hide the syringe she prepared out of deference to Jake’s fear. “Jerry down at Woodlands Hospice and I have had several good chats together over the last year. This transfer has been a long time in coming.” As she turned around, she saw the confused look on Jake’s face and tried to discern between the needle phobia and the revelation about her knowledge of his history. “Don’t worry, it’s all good. Your tremendous reputation precedes you. Now, give me your arm for just a minute... Let’s give the alcohol a second to dry….”
Jake tried to calm his nerves. His fear of needles was irrational, but real. He immersed himself in his well-worn ritual to calm himself when he faced an injection. Jake focused on his passion and hobby, competition long range shooting. He imagined he was on the range with his rifle. He settled himself down, pretending in his mind that he was lining up a shot. You can’t hit a target a thousand yards away if you’re nervous, Jake. Steady. Breathe….
“Ok, Jake, a little stick. This tiny needle goes just under the skin.”
Aim...
“Alright, we’re done.”
Wait, what? Oh, it’s over?
“You did fine. Now, let’s take a look at this on Wednesday to make sure it’s negative.”
The relief poured over him, leaving an unnerving tingle washing over him.
“Now, let’s go meet some of the staff if you’re up to it.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t feel it, actually.” Reverend Jenning’s new prayer was gratitude to God for not passing out in front of his new coworkers.
“While I give you a few minutes to calm your nerves, let’s talk about your schedule. You wanted to continue your thirty-two hour a week status so you could maintain your other ventures. I understand you want to keep those discreetly separate from the hospice office and I strongly support that. It’ll be ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ so to speak. It’s important what you’re doing, but I know you don’t want to broadcast it.”
“I appreciate that, Sharon. It would complicate things if my coworkers knew too much about my background... right now anyway.”
Sharon smiled tensely. “Well, are you up to meeting the troops?”
“I think so.”
“Good, let’s go.” Sharon led Jake out of her office and into what would have been the living area of this old Victorian style house. “You already know Janet, the team assistant who keeps information, paperwork and morale flowing.”
“Good morning, Jake.” The short, stout, matronly but outspoken Janet Summers got up from her desk and gave Jake a hug. “I’m glad you’re finally here. We’ve been lookin’ forward to you getting’ started. You need anything, you let me know. I’ll do anything I can to help. All I ask is that you turn your paperwork in on time.” Her manner and tone of voice told him she would do anything for him… but he should also do as she said. She reminded him of the quintessential church secretary.
“Sure, no problem with that.” Jake returned the hug. He liked the hospice environment because most of his coworkers were huggers. It was part of the culture. They dealt with so many difficult situations that they either got comfortable with personal and emotional contact or left the business due to the stress.
Sharon took Jake by the arm again. “I don’t think paperwork will be an issue. Jake is as punctual a person as we’ve encountered in a long time, Janet.” They continued the tour of the house. Jake had only been in the office briefly to meet with Sharon. This was his first opportunity to really get to know his new surroundings. “Let’s take you to the Family Support Room so you can meet your peers and put your briefcase on your desk.”
As he walked into the front room on the opposite corner from Sharon’s office, Jake felt an immediate sense of peace about being here. The room had lace curtained windows on two sides that looked out onto Main Street and toward the courthouse. The sunlight danced through the room highlighting the clash between the vintage room and the modern modular office furniture that rimmed three sides. But it was still the most peaceful looking office arrangement Jake had seen in a hospice setting. He was really beginning to like this place already.
“Jake, this is Roger Neidermeyer, our other chaplain who has been with us since Sunset Hospice started eleven years ago. He goes back to the days before Ventura owned Sunset. Roger, this is Jake Jennings, our new chaplain and bereavement counselor.”
Roger sprang up from his chair and shook Jake’s hand enthusiastically. “Jake, we’re glad you’re here. Me, especially. I’ve been a little overwhelmed with the workload. It’s good to have you on board. I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet when you came in to meet with Sharon last week. I was out on a death visit.”
“Glad to finally meet you too. Hey, I’m sure you would’ve liked to check me out before I came, but duty calls. I can’t wait to get started, but I’m going to need a lot of help from you to get to know the area since you’ve been here for so long.”
“Sure, glad to help any way I can.”
Roger’s sincerity and obvious dedication felt like a warm comforting wave of fresh air. Jake had a fine-tuned “radar” for people’s motives. He could almost feel a person’s intentions when he first met them.
“We’ll talk some more after Sharon releases you.” Jake looked at him quizzically. Roger pointed to the protective hold Sharon still had on Jakes left arm. “Literally releases you.”
They both laughed. Sharon only smiled and turned away, dragging Jake with her.
“Jake, this is Lynn Colson, she’s a social worker and our volunteer coordinator. Our other social worker Sarah is out on a call right now. Lynn, this is Jake.”
Lynn remained in her chair but turned and shook Jakes hand with a properly firm grip.
Jake assessed her response as perfectly calculated to show that she presented herself as non-threatening but in control. His radar was uncannily accurate.
“It’s nice to meet you Jake. Welcome to the team. I understand that you have a lot of hospice experience yourself.”
Sharon interjected, “Jake has a total of fifteen years of hospice chaplain experience. We’re lucky to have him at Sunset.” She dragged him out of the room and on to the rest of the tour.
Jake sensed an undercurrent of tension or something like it between Sharon and Lynn. He filed that one away for future reference.
Sharon showed Jake around the rest of the house, telling him about its history as a boarding house a hundred years ago, how to access the office equipment and the other mundane details of surviving office life. “Most of the patient care staff is out making visits. We don’t have Monday morning meetings unless something important is happening. I have a brief orientation schedule for you. You don’t need a whole lot, but since you are new to the bereavement role you need some time to finish the online training. I also want you to do ride-outs with each discipline so you can get to know the people and the territory. Let’s go back to my office so I can give you your company phone and manuals.”
Jake realized that it was only then that Sharon let go of his arm. He also realized that he never felt uncomfortable with her holding on to him that whole time. It was as if she was telling everyone that he was her prized employee... if not possession. Sharon was barely older than Jake, but he felt that she was a larger-than-life authority in the office. Everyone looked up to and respected her.
Jake also realized that he had not felt comfortable with anyone touching him for longer than a brief handshake or a hug since Mindy. He hadn’t been close enough to anyone for that kind of... what could he call it... intimacy? The wellspring of sadness, loneliness and grief down deep in Jake’s soul almost broke through the calm surface of his well-protected public personae.
The rest of the morning filled up with reading manuals, logging onto the network for the first time, verifying that his phone worked and a myriad of rather boring things that Jake couldn’t stand about office life. The busyness of the morning did, however, provide him with the perfect escape from having to deal with what he left behind and what he has yet to face.
PLM+ members can chat with Brent about Sunset’s Dawn.