First Impressions: A Contemporary Retelling of Pride and Prejudice by Debra White Smith

Author:Debra White Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Romance;FIC042040;FIC027020;FIC042000
ISBN: 9781493413881
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2018-02-28T05:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

After his late night in the pool, Dave took Friday off. At nine o’clock that morning, he’d met Francis Schmidt at the door and told him to handle things on his own. By ten, Dave was halfway to Dallas. At eleven, he stood in a country church’s cemetery east of the metroplex—a cemetery that seized Dave’s past and held it in mute captivity.

Three years had lapsed since Dave visited the cemetery. All the times he thought of going back, the pain had been too great . . . the memories too overwhelming. So Dave had put on a tough front with Aunt Maddy every time she asked him to join her in visiting the grave sites. Looking back, he doubted she believed his claims of not needing to visit the lonely grave-marked yard.

The weather had taken an unusual turn for a Texas July. Instead of yesterday’s heat index of 108, the thermometer read only 88. A cool wind whipped up the smell of bitterweeds and dust. A strong blast rushed through the yard full of gravestones and tilted a row of young mesquites on the west edge. A whirlwind of dust erupted near his truck. Dave’s shirttail rustled over his jeans. That morning he’d been too grouchy and too distracted to tuck it in.

Dave looked beyond the flat pastureland and eyed the horizon marred by an inky thunderhead. The urge to find a storm cellar proved almost too powerful to ignore. Even though that white-tailed twister had only cost Dave some back pain, it had marred his psyche. He hadn’t observed a bank of clouds the same since. Like a soldier about to face an attack, Dave tensed and searched for a place to take cover—just in case.

The back door of the abandoned wood-framed church banged shut and then hurled itself open again. Dave nodded as if in answer to the door’s suggestion. He found peace in knowing the graying structure possessed a basement. In his youth he had set off a round a firecrackers in the corner of that basement one Sunday during children’s church. His parents had not been thrilled with him for a whole week.

The faded sign in front of the church read Lakeland Community Church. His father and mother had felt a call of God to refurbish the old sanctuary and reopen it for services. They’d seen years of success in ministering to the community, and the church thrived. Dave often marveled that God blessed his parents’ efforts even though their homelife was a battleground. Once his parents died, the church board searched for another minister while attendance steadily dwindled. Eventually, the congregation dissolved, and the building once again became an empty shell.

After another glance at the ominous horizon, Dave concentrated on the two graves that lay side by side. While numerous tombstones along the south fence were crumbling with age, these remained unharmed by the elements. Amazingly, sixteen years had lapsed since Dave had stood beside the freshly dug graves, each with a casket suspended over it.

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