Wendell hadn’t thought the day could get better, but it just did. “Well . . . I now have the very best lawyer! Luke Baxter is going to work with me.”
“Hmm.” She paused for a second. “Luke Baxter. I haven’t heard of him.”
“He’s the best religious freedom lawyer in the nation.” Wendell couldn’t stop smiling. “He’s taking my case, Alicia.”
“That’s great!” She sounded truly happy for him. “God is already ahead of you. Working for you.” Alicia hesitated for a longer beat. “I just . . . I wanted you to know I’m here for you. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” He had been willing to lose her if it took that to help the students. To help her. But right now . . . Wendell only wished he could drive his car straight to her house and see her.
She was the friend he needed.
“After this craziness . . . could I take you to dinner? Even as a friend?”
Her answer came soft and certain. “I’d love that.”
Wendell could hardly believe her response. He put his hand on the wheel. “Until then . . . keep praying. And I’ll keep praying for you.”
“I will. Thanks.” Her sureness was there again. “And hey, I’ve stopped my medication. My doctor is thrilled. No panic attacks. God is . . . He’s healing me, Wendell. A little more every day.”
“That’s amazing.” It was the best news of all. He remembered that she didn’t have long to talk. They would catch up in detail later, over dinner. “So . . . thanks for calling. I’ll keep you posted. About the lawsuit.”
“Please.” The love he’d felt from her before was there again. Not in words, and maybe only as a friend. But it was there. “Oh, and . . .” her smile was audible, “it’s good to hear your voice, too.”
He wanted so badly to see her, hold her hands. Take her in his arms. “Talk to you soon, Alicia. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
Wendell spent much of the ride home thinking about her. She was right. He was going to get through this. He wasn’t doomed, the way the media made it sound. And with Luke Baxter, his very talented attorney, Wendell could win this case. He believed it. Because in the most difficult moments ahead, people would pray. Even Alicia. And it wouldn’t be only Luke acting as his advocate in that courtroom.
But God Himself.
14
Luke had a pit in the center of his stomach.
The hearing was in less than an hour at the Indianapolis Civil Court. Like he’d told Wendell last Monday, typically he didn’t take a case unless he had a good feeling he could win it. The way he felt about his other current cases. Like the one that involved a teacher at Clear Creek High School who had blown the whistle on a group of students, including his niece Jessie.
Jessie was a sixteen-year-old sophomore at the school, and part of the cheerleading squad. Every week before the football game, she and the other cheerleaders created a paper banner to encourage the football team. The banner always included a Bible verse.
Now the teacher had contacted the school district, and the school district had ordered Jessie and the cheerleaders to stop making mention of the Bible verse on the signs. Never do it again, they were told.
Well, that was a violation of their religious freedoms, and Luke didn’t mind saying so. He had written a letter to the school district, and he fully expected the situation to settle out of court. The school district would not want a public battle, which they would certainly lose because it didn’t line up with the three-part test.
But that was not the case with Wendell Quinn.
The good news—which he’d repeatedly assured Wendell about—was this: There would be no jail time for Wendell. “At least at this point, people don’t get sent to jail for reading the Bible or praying in a public place,” he had told Wendell when they met last week at Hamilton High. “But you could lose your job at any point.”
Wendell understood that. He told Luke how James Black had promised to fire him if Wendell continued the club. But so far the district had kept him on.
Wendell had smiled. “The apostle Paul said to consider it pure joy whenever we face trials of many kinds.”
If that was Wendell’s role model, it was working. Luke couldn’t believe how joyful the man was, how sure that somehow God was going to give them a miracle. Luke only wished he felt the same way. As a lawyer, he’d seen several cases go his way when they shouldn’t have. But even then he had been mostly sure he would win.
This case was the opposite. He was almost certain they would lose. Something even Reagan and Luke’s father had recently expressed concern about. But truly, if Luke lost this case, he’d be okay. The religious freedom incidents would keep coming, and he would keep getting better at defending them. Barring some landmark decision against religious freedom from the Supreme Court, Luke would have a job in this area.
But Wendell . . . Wendell could be out of work tomorrow. The situation was that serious.
Luke surveyed the courtroom. Like most it was plain, with yellowy wood-paneled walls and two rows of chairs, six to a row, for the times when a jury was needed. The spectator section held another forty seats or so, and the judge’s desk sat at the center, on a platform high enough to preside over the room.
Wendell stepped into the space and approached Luke. A smile filled the man’s face. “It starts today. We’re going to win this thing.” He looked around. “Where do I sit?”
“With me.” Luke really liked the guy. Already he’d been to the man’s house and to his school. Wendell’s faith and his love for his family and his students were as genuine as sunshine. He was a good guy, and it was an honor to represent him. No matter how the case turned out.
“We’ll share this table.” Luke took the inside seat and Wendell sat in the outer one. Luke pointed to the table on the other side of the courtroom. “That’s where Andy Nelson and his attorney will sit.”
Wendell seemed to survey the situation. He nodded to the judge’s chair. “That’s for the judge?”
“Yes.”
“So the decision will come from there?” Wendell seemed to study the empty place. “Is that right?”
“I hope not.” Luke chuckled. The hearing was slated for ten that morning. “The goal today is to convince the judge that we need a trial. That there’s enough information on our behalf to at least let a jury decide.”
Wendell nodded. “That’s right.” He narrowed his eyes. “The other option is the judge decides and we win or lose today?”
Luke hesitated. “Yes.” If the judge decided without a jury, the case would most definitely go against them. He had been over that with Wendell. “That’s right.”
“Well, then, good thing I brought this.” Wendell set his briefcase on the table and pulled out the three presentation folders. “I made you copies of everything I have.” He handed the three folders to Luke. “Here you go.”
There was no kind way to explain that Wendell’s information couldn’t possibly win this case. Luke set the folders to the side of the table and smiled. “Thanks, Wendell. If cases were won or lost based on enthusiasm, we’d have a slam-dunk win.”
Next into the courtroom that morning were Jordy Quinn and Cami Nelson. Luke had met them at Hamilton High last week. The two were both in the Raise the Bar club, and if chemistry was any indication, the pair had a thing for each other.
Jordy walked to the edge of the spectator section and motioned for Luke to come closer. “Mr. Baxter, thank you for letting us be here today. All of our teachers signed off, so we could miss school.”
“You’re always welcome. It’s an open courtroom.” Luke admired the young man. Jordy was polite and well-spoken. It was obvious the boy had a strong faith, and the respect he showed his father was unusual for a high school senior.
Jordy looked at his father and then back at Luke. “I’m nervous for my dad, sir. I’ll do . . . whatever you need to help him out. I can testify or talk to the judge privately. Whatever would help.”