Above The Storm

By Ed Koonce

Josh Matthews, returning wounded from Vietnam and deserted by his high school sweetheart, finds renewed hope through Becky O'Donnell, a girl who has matured from an adolescent "pest" into a beautiful young woman. Becky shares her Christian faith and helps Josh rise above his depression to become a respected pastor. Complications arise when his high school flame reappears to win him back, and a cult leader, who calls himself "The Prophet" devises a plan to send his followers to their deaths. Josh must lay aside his clerical robes and resort to using all his Marine training in order to save them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9781597050692

Book preview

What They Are Saying About

Above The Storm

Iam truly impressed with Ed Koonce’s literary voice. He is a man who is definitely in tune with his spiritual sensitivities. I was prepared to read a story about high adventure, or soldiering... however, his part Cherokee Indian hero is much more than an avenging warrior. He is a man who rides above the storm of adversity on the wings of his faith. 4 Cups

—JoEllen Conger

Cinderella And The Stripper

Joshua Matthews comes home from Viet Nam with a broken body and a broken spirit...and then on a lonely Christmas Eve, Josh has a life changing experience.

You will find that Koonce has a talent for weaving a web of twists and turns that will keep you wondering what’s around the next corner.

But above all, this is a touching story, skillfully done, that shows the Grace of God and His sufficiency. It’s a recommended read. I also recommend we watch for Ed Koonce’s next novel.

—Jacqueline McGuyer

Blood Secrets

Wings E-press 1/2007

Inspirational/Paranormal

In Above The Storm, Ed Koonce has addressed many of the problems that face organized religion.  The story effectively deals with the many issues that face families today.  The author takes you into the lives of people who are challenged, you live and feel with them.  I hoped, laughed and cried; emotion fills every page.  Above the Storm is a must read in a land filled with violence and hatred.  Ed Koonce is a beacon of hope in a war torn world.  The story is well written and I look forward to his next release. Above The Storm is a 5 tear on the mascara scale.

—A. Dee Carey,

The Fox Lady,

Above The Storm

Ed Koonce

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Inspirational Romance Novel

Edited by: Leslie Hodges

Copy Edited by: Karen Babcock

Senior Editor: Lorraine Stephens

Executive Editor: Lorraine Stephens

Cover Artist: Christine Poe

All rights reserved

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Copyright © 2006 by Ed Koonce

ISBN:  978-1-59705-069-2

Published by Wings ePress, Inc.

Published In the United States Of America

Wings ePress Inc.

3000 N. Rock Road

Newton, KS  67114

Dedication

To my wife, Malinda,

for her infinite patience and helpful suggestions,

and to Oklahoma writers

Margaret B. Lawrence

and

Molly Lemmons,

whose works inspired my efforts.

Author’s Note

All Scriptural references in the manuscript are from the Authorized Kings James Version of the Bible.

One

With trembling hand , he signed his name, Joshua Matthews, then slid his hand over to fill in the date, August 27, 1975. Thankfully this was the final application form to sign in order to become a freshman at Weston University, located in Weston, Oklahoma, a small town nestled in the rolling hills southwest of Oklahoma City. He shifted his cane back to his right hand and slowly made his way to a chair against the far wall, thinking to himself, I’m only twenty-two years old, and I walk like an old man.

As he sat waiting to be assigned to an academic counselor, he leaned his head back against the wall to rest. His thoughts—as they did daily—returned to that fateful day in Vietnam when his Marine patrol walked into an ambush set up by the Viet Cong.

The long months of recovery in the military hospital left him weak, but gave him a great deal of time to reflect. Sometimes he found himself wondering why his life had been spared when all his buddies had died. He hadn’t grown up as a religious person, but he began to wonder if his life had been spared for some special purpose. But for what purpose, he wondered?

His mind drifted back to his senior year at Weston High, working part time at the grocery store, and spending warm summer evenings shooting hoops in his driveway with his younger sister, Mary, and her best friend, Becky O’Donnell.

In spite of his constant sadness as he faced a long recovery with an unknown outcome, he couldn’t help but laugh when he thought of Becky O’Donnell. Becky was three years younger and in the ninth grade when he was a senior. In spite of a generous sprinkling of freckles, and braces on her teeth, Josh thought Becky was a cute kid. And she was a live wire all right, challenging him at the basketball goal, turning cartwheels, or standing on her head with her long, red hair sweeping the ground. But mostly he remembered her as a pest when his childhood sweetheart, Linda Bradley, was around. Becky loved to sit beside them on the porch swing, intruding on the privacy they preferred—once even squeezing in between them!

Josh, don’t you see the way she looks at you? Linda complained.

Josh hadn’t noticed before, but he did see a kind of adoring look in Becky’s eyes when she looked at him. She’s just a kid with a childhood crush, Josh would say.

When Becky’s father moved the family to live on her grandparents’ ranch west of Ponca City after her grandfather’s death, Linda was relieved, although Josh missed her impish shenanigans.

But his thoughts always lingered on Linda, the only girl he had ever loved, or felt he ever could love. Linda was strikingly beautiful, with blue eyes and creamy complexion framed by golden hair that cascaded to the middle of her back. Homecoming queen, planning to be a model—Linda was to be his bride. Her perfect figure turned heads everywhere she went, and stirred much envy in Josh’s buddies. She had inherited her tall, perfect figure from her mother, who had been a model after serving in the Women Airforce Service Pilots—WASP—organization during World War II. When he looked into her eyes, he could sense a depth of intelligence also. Indeed, she was one of the two valedictorians in the high school graduating class. Through hard work, Linda’s parents had risen from near poverty to become quite wealthy, and they lavished their wealth on their only child by buying her anything her heart desired.

THERE WAS AN AIR OF aloofness about Linda that seemed to attract people, but at the same time pushed them away if they came too close. Josh thought he could sense in Linda a deep distrust of men, and he wondered whether she might have had a bad experience that surfaced whenever a man started getting too close. He had discussed this with her, but she couldn’t seem to recall anything that would cause that reaction, although she confided that occasionally she had awakened terrified from a recurring bad dream. However, she was never able to recall the details of the dream, except that a certain man appeared in every dream—a man who seemed familiar, but whose name escaped her. Josh had no way of knowing how Linda would soon re-enter his world, or that the man who caused Linda’s nightmares would someday emerge to threaten his very life.

Josh, too, had suffered recurring nightmares—but his concerned his experiences in Vietnam, especially the time when a little Vietnamese girl died in his arms after stepping on a land mine. Her frightened, pained face was stamped indelibly on his conscious. He could easily rationalize killing enemy soldiers who were out to kill him, but the tragic maiming and killing of innocent civilians caught in the crossfire tormented him.

During his first few months in the hospital, Josh had been optimistic about a speedy recovery as he and Linda planned a spring wedding. Linda’s welcome letters lifted him temporarily out of the depression into which he seemed to be sinking, but the letters had become shorter and less frequent, finally stopping altogether. So it was no surprise when the tiny package arrived in the mail with no name on the return address, which he recognized as Linda’s. He tossed it, unopened, into a drawer by his bed. So much for I’ll love you forever—the words she had whispered in his ear as he boarded the bus for boot camp.

MR. MATTHEWS... MR. Matthews! The voice roused him from his thoughts. You need to see the counselor in room twelve.

Josh struggled to his feet, and with his cane in one hand and the application forms in the other, shuffled down the hallway toward room twelve. He paused as he passed a door with a lighted EXIT sign above it. He could simply open that door and forget college. What was the use anyway? All his classmates had graduated and he was just starting as a freshman, and the only girl he felt he could ever love was planning a spring wedding with someone else. Even though the doctors had assured him that in a couple of years he would have only a slight limp to remind him of his injuries, right now a couple of years seemed like an eternity, and what if they were wrong?

He suddenly remembered the strong pain pills his doctor had reluctantly given him, warning him that exceeding the dosage even a little could be fatal. He mentally counted the number of the potent tablets left in the bottle. That should be more than enough to do the job, he assured himself. Just a quick swallow with a glass of water, a farewell note left beside his bed and his pain would all be over.

After a moment, he quickly released his grip on the door handle and turned toward room twelve. You’re no quitter, Josh Matthews! he chided himself, remembering the times he had led the Weston High School football team against overwhelming odds to win the state championship. He must go on, even though there seemed to be no purpose in doing so. He had faced the greatest danger imaginable in Vietnam, and he was determined to climb this mountain looming before him as well!

With his eyes misting from the realization that he couldn’t take what appeared at the moment to be the easy way out, Josh entered the open door of room twelve and proceeded toward an empty chair beside the desk. He hardly noticed the attractive young woman sitting behind it, her eyes focused on the stack of papers before her.

Josh Matthews, she read from her list, then in a softer, more thoughtful tone, Josh Matth... She looked up just as Josh lifted his eyes toward her, instantly recognizing the red hair falling softly around her shoulders.

Becky O’Donnell? he whispered incredulously. Her chair hit the wall as she quickly rose and started toward Josh, her arms outstretched to greet an old friend.

Josh Matthews! It’s so good to see you again!

Becky, I’m totally surprised to see you again. I thought you were still in Ponca City. Are you working at the university now?

I help in the office part time, but I’m a full-time student—a sophomore—majoring in journalism with an education minor. I plan to teach after graduation.

Well, as you can see, I’ve returned from the war somewhat the worse for wear, Josh motioned toward his leg, which was still in a partial cast. I’m enrolling under the GI bill.

Then we’ll be seeing each other around campus. Becky smiled. So, please sit down and we’ll see what kind of schedule we can work out for you.

After going through his class schedule, interspersed with happy reminiscing about old times, Becky reluctantly stated that she needed to interview the next freshman, so they agreed to have dinner together that evening to catch up.

JOSH SURVEYED HIS OLD car, badly in need of a paint job. But it was all he could afford on his veteran’s disability check. Maybe Becky wouldn’t mind.

At the restaurant the two chattered as old friends do, though Josh, who had earlier looked with somewhat of an air of superiority over the skinny young junior high school girl, now felt a tinge of shyness in her presence. Becky O’Donnell had become quite an attractive young woman. He guessed her height at five feet, nine inches—nearly six feet with heels. Light freckles were scattered about her cheeks and forehead, her eyes were a subtle deep blue, and her lips were full and beautifully sculpted. Her hair had deepened into a dark auburn color, cascading in soft waves framing her face and draping over her trim shoulders, appearing much more pleasing than the bright red curly hair of her childhood.

Her parents were descendants of immigrants who had come to America during the potato famine in Ireland. Although her grandparents were Catholic, her parents had chosen to attend a local Methodist church, where they were active in the music program—her father serving as choir director, and her mother singing in the choir.

After returning to Becky’s dormitory after a pleasant evening, they sat in Josh’s car in front of the entrance to Becky’s room. Shortly, Becky decided to ask the question she had carefully avoided since their unexpected meeting.

Josh, may I ask... how were you injured?

Josh was surprised that Becky would ask. Linda had always changed the subject when he mentioned anything about the war, asserting that it would cause him pain to talk about it, but Josh felt that her real reason was that it caused her pain!

Josh, I’m sure it’s hard for you to talk about what happened in Vietnam, but I would really like to know. Maybe it would help you deal with it if you talked about it. I’m a good listener.

Josh looked away in deep thought. I’ve talked with the hospital psychologist many times, but being a professional, he seemed distant, he had heard stories like mine many times before. But I’d like to tell you some of the things that happened—if you really want to hear about them.

Yes, I really would. Becky leaned back against the seat as she lightly touched his arm to encourage him.

So, hesitantly, Josh began telling Becky about the ambush, the horrors of war—Becky gently touching his hand urging him to go on. Even though he had gone through the same stories before, this was different, opening up to a friend who really cared. As he let his long-suppressed, painful memories surface, Becky retrieved a package of tissues from her purse and began dabbing the tears that welled up in her eyes.

Josh paused, not wanting to cause her sorrow, but Becky grasped his hand more firmly, wanting him to continue. Soon, Josh’s tears began flowing too, pouring down like cleansing rain on a barren land, washing away the dust and grime of his painful memories.

Now, having emptied out the accumulated torment he had carried so long, the tears stopped and, for a long moment, they both sat in silence, their hands firmly clasped.

Becky held up her watch to check the time and realized that it was getting late. We’d better say goodnight and get some sleep, or we’ll both fall asleep in class tomorrow!

You’re right, Josh agreed. I’ll walk you to the door.

The moonlight illuminated the entrance to Becky’s dorm as they stood in awkward silence. Josh wondered how he should conclude such a wonderful evening with the girl whom he had remembered as only a kid, but who was now a beautiful, sophisticated young woman. Should he risk trying for a goodnight kiss? Another rejection was something he couldn’t handle right now, so he opted for a safe handshake. Becky gently pushed aside his extended hand and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. Feeling the closeness of this delightful creature and smelling the alluring fragrance of her perfume sent his heart racing. Leaning his cane against the railing, he slipped his arms around her, sensing her approval.

Her reddish, auburn hair, gleaming in the moonlight, tickled his nose as he placed a kiss on her ear, then on her cheek. Encouraged by the tightening grip of her arms around his shoulders, he ventured a brief, soft kiss on her lips. In a moment their lips met in eager desire.

JOSH SAT SILENTLY IN his car for a while, staring at the closed dormitory door and savoring the exhilarating feeling that lingered like a healing balm on his inner pain. As Becky retreated through the door, she had turned to smile at him, and in the moonlight he saw again the look of adoration that he remembered from years before, a look that he once thought amusing, but now a look that meant the world to him.

He knew there