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Despite all my attempts to visit Wilma, I didn’t manage to talk to her until Sunday when she and Darius walked to church with Caleb and me. I stole her away from her husband and pulled her back away from the two men.
Wilma looked at me in surprise and said, “What is all this about?”
“I had to tell you before it was announced at church,” I said. I could hardly believe how breathless and excited I was. “I’m engaged!”
Wilma’s eyes went wide and she stopped in her tracks. “You are? To Pastor Jenkins?”
I nodded and at my first head bob, Wilma squealed, causing the two men to turn their head back toward us. Caleb whispered something to Darius and he chuckled as he gave a quick nod of understanding.
“Congratulations, Anna! I am so happy for you! You’ll have to tell me all about it after church because then the old biddies can’t chew you out.”
I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself. “Old biddies? Wilma Gardner, where did you get that term from?”
“It’s what my mother called them sometimes. Actually, I heard one of them use the term for herself and her group of friends.”
“Hmm. I could see us doing that when we are old and decrepit.”
Wilma’s silvery laugh reached to all the corners of the woods we were walking through. “Except, even when you are old and decrepit, you will still be a pastor’s wife and will need to be a good example to all those around you. And, therefore, you can’t go around being an old biddy.”
We laughed together and caught up to Caleb and Darius as we reached the church yard and we went our separate ways for the church service.
***
During the sermon, I tried to listen, but I knew Miles would be announcing our engagement at the end of the service and grew more and more nervous as the sermon went on. When he finally finished with a prayer of blessing, I was a nervous wreck. The palms of my hands were clammy, sweat trickled down under the high collar of my new dress, and my heart raced faster than the fastest thoroughbred.
“Before you leave for the day, I do have an announcement to make. I know it will come as a shock to many of you, especially those who have known me the longest. If my assumption is correct, most of you probably heard the rumor that I have been courting someone for a few months. After much prayer, and getting to know her better, I believe God is leading me to marry her. Last Sunday evening, I asked a lovely young woman to become my wife and she said yes.” Light applause sprinkled through the congregation and Miles held up his hand for silence. His grin widened. “I can’t honestly tell you who is more excited, me and her, or my two boys.”
“What’s the name of this wonder woman who stole your heart?” a male voice called out.
Miles smiled. He was having fun with the suspense again, but I prayed he knew if he let it go too long, one of the older ladies, like Mrs. Morgan, would say something.
“Anna Stuart.” And he left it at that.
Murmurs rippled through the congregation and people turned in their seats to look back at me.
“Thank you for coming today,” Miles said. “May the Lord bless you and keep you as you enter your mission field this week. You are dismissed.”
Miles made his way to the back to shake hands with those who had attended the service and on his way past the pew in which I was sitting, he beckoned for me to come with him. We had not discussed this and I sat frozen for a few seconds until my brother elbowed me.
I stood up and walked over to join Miles. “What am I supposed to do?” I whispered to him as the first congregant approached.
“All you have to do is smile and shake people’s hands,” Miles whispered back. “Say something nice if you feel like responding.”
***
Most everybody was polite as they left the church, though I could have sworn Mrs. Morgan tried to murder me with her gaze. After everybody had left, I discreetly shook out and stretched my arm and hand. Miles chuckled under his breath. “How do you do this every week?” I asked.
“After a few weeks, your arm gets used to it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Just don’t make me do this again, please?”
Miles’ grin promised nothing and I heaved a sigh of exasperation before I walked out of the church and into the blinding November sun. As soon as I was down the steps, Mrs. Morgan accosted me.
“Young lady!”
I bit back a tart reply. “Yes, Mrs. Morgan?”
“I thought I had warned you not to go running after Pastor Jenkins.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “You did. I chose to follow God’s words rather than yours.” A barely stifled laugh behind me warned me that my fiancé was listening in.
“And you, Pastor Jenkins!” Mrs. Morgan turned her attention on him. “How could you even dare to think of marrying someone who is still practically a heathen?”
“Mrs. Morgan,” Miles drawled, “iffen Anna is a heathen, that must mean that most of the people in the congregation are also heathens, or worse, since Anna is one of only a very few of my congregants to ever ask me questions about the Bible, Christian living, or something to do with what I preached about the previous Sunday.” He raised his hand to pause her protest. “I know that some people are able to figure it out by themselves, but I don’t know of anyone who has ever been able to figure it all out by themselves. It is no shame to have to ask someone else for a little clarification.
“And even if it wasn’t for that, I would still say the same thing. Anna’s life dramatically changed for the better and she acts more like a genuine Christian than anyone else I know, myself included.”
My eyes went wide at this statement and I turned toward him. I was about to ask him about it when Mrs. Morgan cut in, “Well! I can see she has somehow gotten her talons in deep and has somehow seduced you into believing every word she says.”
Miles’ face went hard as granite. “Mrs. Morgan, it was I who asked her to consider allowing me to court her. It was I who asked her to consider becoming more than friends. And it was I who asked her to marry me. Anna did not have a single thought about such things until John brought it up.”
“Likely story,” Mrs. Morgan huffed. “If you really want to throw your entire life, career, and income away for this woman, you go right ahead. But don’t expect me to let this matter go lightly.” With that she stormed away.
I sat down hard on the step just above my shaky legs and buried my head in my hands.
“What was that all about?” Wilma’s voice asked seconds later.
“Mrs. Morgan has declared war,” Miles replied in a flat voice. “She doesn’t trust my judgment and thinks that Anna dug her talons in me to seduce me.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Wilma exclaimed. “Let me at her!” I heard the anger in her voice and raised my head to see her jaw clenched and rage seething out of her green eyes.
“Wilma, it won’t do any good. If anything, that would make it worse.” I took a deep, calming breath and whispered under my breath, “I just hope this doesn’t cost Miles his job.”
***
I heard nothing about the rumors and gossip going around town until four days later when I went to the butcher shop to get some meat for the Jenkins’ dinner. While I waited for Mr. Jones to cut and wrap the meat, his wife, a large, cheerful Negro woman came up to me with a serious look on her face.
“You heard what’s been goin’ ‘round about you and Pastor Jenkins?” she asked.
My breath caught. “No, I haven’t. And from the look on your face, I don’t think I want to.” I grimaced and she gave a half smile.
“No, you probably don’t, but one o’ you two should and I’m guessin’ Pastor Jenkins won’t hear it either.”
I nodded, but remained silent.
“They’s saying you’re expecting already and that’s why you are getting married.”
I forced a laugh out. “I guess Miles should have told them we weren’t getting married until February. Their story doesn’t make sense then. Not that it makes sense any other way, but...”
Hester’s hearty laugh filled the small shop. “I like it, Miz Anna. But that’s not all they’re sayin’.”
“I thought that was getting off a bit too easy.”
Hester’s smile faded as something caught her eye outside. “Miz Morgan’s comin’ in here. They’re also sayin’ you’re trying to take over the church and they won’t have it. They’ll kick Pastor Jenkins out before they let that happen.”
My mouth fell open and I worked to control my anger as the bell above the door tinkled. I turned my head to see Mrs. Morgan come in with a glare on her face. She looked between Hester and me. I was afraid she would say something derogatory about Hester again, but Mr. Jones spared us from whatever she might have said.
“Be with you in a minute, Mrs. Morgan,” Hester’s husband said. “Miss Stuart, your meat is ready.”
I took a quick step to the counter. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. How much is it?”
Mr. Jones waved his hand. “Consider it a rather early wedding present for the pastor. Did I hear something about a February wedding?” He took a quick glance toward Mrs. Morgan and gave me a subtle wink.
Despite the horror I felt from the rumors, I had to fight a laugh at Mr. Jones’ obvious hint. “Thank you. And yes, you did hear something about that. Miles doesn’t think we can get a replacement for him for a week before February.”
“A week?” Mrs. Morgan said.
I turned to face her. “Yes. We need someone to marry us and we also need someone to take the pulpit that Sunday.” I willed my cheeks to not redden. “He wants to take me on a short honeymoon trip.”
“But you won’t be married until February? How scandalous!” Mrs. Morgan protested.
“Why is it so scandalous?” I asked.
Mrs. Morgan huffed. “Well, because we all know you must be expecting or the Pastor wouldn’t think it necessary to marry you. Who is the father, anyway? Is it Pastor Jenkins or someone else?”
I leaned my back against the counter. “There is no father because there is no child,” I said through clenched teeth. “Now if you will excuse me, I need to get this meat home and start cooking it for Miles, John, and James’ supper tonight.”
“You’re not staying for supper tonight?” Mrs. Morgan asked in a falsely sweet voice.
“I never stay for supper at their house,” I said as I brushed past her.
“Never?” Mrs. Morgan asked.
I stopped at the door. “No, never. They eat supper at our house every Tuesday, but I have to make supper for my brother and da the other nights. Even if I didn’t, I still wouldn’t stay.”
Mrs. Morgan exhaled loudly. “Well! I still don’t think it is right.”
“What?” I protested. “That the pastor should choose his own wife from whomever he wishes? Or is your problem that he chose me instead of some handpicked person you wanted?”
Mrs. Morgan stood there with her mouth open. “Well!” she huffed. “I will thank you never to speak to me that way again. Good day!” She stuck her nose in the air and pushed me aside in her haste to leave the butcher shop.
“So,” Mr. Jones said, “do you suppose she came here for some meat or to hassle Miss Stuart?”
I took a deep breath and gave him a weak smile. “I think probably the latter. Thank you again for the meat and the warning. Hopefully I haven’t made things worse.”
“I doubt you could do that,” Hester replied.
“Thank you again,” I said as I opened the door and hurried back to the parsonage.
* * *
I was waiting on the porch when Miles got home.
“Uh oh,” he teased. “Did the boys misbehave again?”
“No. Mrs. Morgan,” I said in a flat voice.
Miles’ smile disappeared. “What now?”
“Well, one of the rumors is that I got myself...” I swallowed hard, “with child and you are marrying me to kind of hide it. She even accused you of being the father.”
Miles’ jaw dropped open. “What? That’s not true at all.”
“Exactly.”
“And that is only one of the rumors?” Miles leaned against the railing at the bottom of the porch steps and ran his hand through his hair.
“Yes. The other is that I am trying to take over the church and they won’t allow that to happen. They would rather kick you out before I get my hands on it. Who ‘they’ are, I don’t know.”
Miles closed his eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out in a controlled manner. “Lord, give us strength to get through this trial.” He sighed. “Why can’t a man choose whoever he wants as his wife without people getting so riled about it?” He opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’m sorry.”
I started. “Sorry about what?”
A forced laugh came out of Miles’ mouth. “I’m sorry you are caught up in all of this and that you may have to move away from your family if they succeed in kicking me out of the church. I didn’t think they would do such a thing. Or go so far as to accuse you of...that.” He sat down with a thud on one of the steps and rolled his neck around to work out the kinks. “I think I will change my sermon topic for this week. Not that any of them will listen, but maybe a few will.” He took a deep breath and turned his gaze to the setting sun. “I’m sorry, I’ve kept you too long. You should get home or Caleb and Iain’ll have a late supper.”
“The boys are probably wondering what’s taking you so long as well,” I said.
As Miles stood up, he looked at me and asked, “How did you find out about this gossip?”
I gave him a half-grin. “Hester told me. She thought one of us should know. And yes, I thanked her for telling me.” I had just passed him when I realized something else he needed to know. “Oh, I also had a small run-in with Mrs. Morgan. I told her in no uncertain terms that I am not with child, that we are getting married in February, that you are trying to find someone to fill the pulpit the first Sunday so you can take me on a honeymoon trip, and that I don’t eat supper with you at your house.”
“Huh? I understand the first three, but that last one?”
Laughter bubbled up inside of me at the face Miles made. “Because she asked if I was staying for supper tonight.”
“Oh.”
“Speaking of which, I really need to go. I will see you tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Miles said, gazing into the darkening landscape, “See ya.”
