toward the kitchen, making a note to himself to check Craig’s room. His son’s version of clean was definitely not his.
In the kitchen Samuel found his aunt by the stove adding something to a big pot while his youngest stood on a chair next to her and stirred whatever was cooking in the big pan. “Smells wonderful. Spaghetti?”
Aunt Mae glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. That’s what Allie and Craig wanted. They said something about being tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“You know how hopeless I am in the kitchen.”
She tsked. “Samuel, after over two years you’d think I would have rubbed off on you.”
“Aunt Mae, don’t ever go away again,” Allie said in a serious voice while continuing to stir the sauce.
His aunt, a woman who obviously loved her own cooking, tousled Allie’s hair. “Hopefully my sister won’t hurt herself again. I didn’t like being away from you all.”
“Next time Aunt Kathy can come here instead of you going there.” Allie laid the spoon on the counter.
Visions of Mae’s older sister living with them sent panic through Samuel. He started to say something about his eight-year-old daughter’s suggestion.
Aunt Mae’s blue eyes twinkled and two dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Oh, sugar, that probably wouldn’t be too good of an idea. She’s very set in her ways. Besides, she was bedridden for a week and couldn’t travel.”
“Well, we missed you.” Allie threw her arms around Aunt Mae.
The older woman brushed back the few strands of gray hair that had come loose from her bun, fighting tears that had suddenly filled her eyes. “I missed you all.”
“Is that coffee on the stove?” Samuel asked, feeling his own emotions close to the surface—which he attributed to his exhaustion. He walked to the counter where some cups were set out and retrieved one.
As Samuel poured his coffee, he corralled his emotions and shoved them to the dark recesses of his mind. Aunt Mae had been a lifesaver after his wife died. When she had arrived on his doorstep, their lives had been in total chaos. Ruth’s death had hit him so hard that it had taken him months to see how much his children needed him. Thankfully Aunt Mae had been around to ease their sorrow, because he hadn’t been able to—something he still felt guilty about.
“Was everything all right at school with Jane?” Aunt Mae asked, opening the refrigerator and taking out the ingredients for a salad.
“Allie!” Craig’s voice echoed through the house.
His youngest daughter jumped down from the chair, scooted it back toward the table, then darted out of the kitchen.
“No doubt she hid more than Craig’s Game Boy.” Samuel shook his head as he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. “Jane’s having trouble in English. I’m going to check on Monday to see how she’s doing in her other classes.” He took a long sip of his coffee, relishing the hot drink after being out in the cold.
“She took her mother’s death harder than the other two.”
“She was really close to Ruth.” He drank some more to ease the constriction in his throat.
“Still, something else might be going on with her, Samuel. A good prayer might help.”
There was a time he had felt that way. Now he didn’t know if that would help his daughter. He kissed his aunt on the cheek. “You have good intuition. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Shouts from above drew Samuel’s attention. “I’d better go and referee those two.”
“Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
Samuel strode toward the stairs. He was the new minister of Sweetwater Community Church and he wasn’t even sure how effective prayer was. His house was still in chaos. He longed for the time he’d felt confident in the power of the Lord—before He had taken his wife and thrown his family into turmoil. He shouldn’t have taken this church assignment, but he was desperate. He wanted his old life back.
Beth took a paper cup filled with red fruit punch from the table next to the coffee urn, then backed off to allow the other parishioners to get their refreshments after the late service. Standing along the wall where all the congregation’s photos hung, she watched Samuel greet each person as they came into the rec hall. Her throat parched, she drank half the juice in several swallows. Over the past few days she had thought about the man more than she should. He and Jane had even plagued her dreams last night.
Jesse Blackburn approached with a cup of coffee. “So what do you think of our new minister?”
“Interesting sermon on redemption.”
“He’s a widower.”
“Yes, I know and, Jesse, don’t you get any ideas. As they say in the movies, I’m blowing this town come summer.”
Taking a sip of her coffee, Jesse stared at her over the rim of her cup. “You are?”
“Don’t act innocent. You know I’ve been planning this ever since Daniel decided to go to college.”
Jesse leaned back against the wall, a picture in nonchalance. “It seems I recall you saying something about a vacation.”
“It’s more than a vacation. In fact, you’ll have to do the annual Fourth of July auction this year, because I won’t be here.”
Her good friend splayed her hand across her chest. “You’re leaving me in charge?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You and Darcy will do a great job.”
“It won’t be the same without you. You’ve been doing it for the past ten or so years.”
“And I have made very good notes for you to follow.” Beth finished her punch, then crushed the paper cup into a ball. Frustration churned in her, making her feel as though she should shed her skin. “I’ll help you until May. Then you’re on your own.”
“Boswell’s a great organizer. I’ll put him on it.” Jesse straightened away from the wall. “Give the poor man something to do.”
“How’s it feel to have your own butler?”
Jesse laughed. “A bit funny, but Boswell’s more like a member of the family than anything. Now, if I could just get him and Gramps to get along. Thank goodness Gramps married Susan Reed and lives at her place.” She drained her coffee. “Are you sure you don’t want me to have a little dinner party for the new reverend?”
“I think you should have a party.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. “You do?”
“To help introduce him to the whole congregation, not just the single women.” Beth scanned the room for the man under discussion. He stood a few feet from the door, dressed in a black suit that accorded a nice contrast to his blond hair. The intent expression on his face while listening to Tanya Bolton gave Beth the impression he was a good listener, which was probably beneficial considering the needs of the people in the church. “What makes you think he’s looking for a woman?”
“The romantic in me. I just hate seeing people alone.”
“Jesse, I’m not alone. I have three siblings—who I grant you don’t live with me anymore, but are still around. And I have my friends. Reverend Morgan has three children. And I met his aunt this morning in Sunday-school class. She lives with him. That certainly isn’t alone.”
“Boy, you need a man worse than I thought if you think children and an aunt are the same thing as a spouse.”
“What are you two conspiring about?” Darcy Markham paused next to Beth, her hand at the small of her back.
Relieved at her friend’s timely interruption, Beth smiled. “When are you going to have that baby?”