Six

The evening after seeing the play, Silas fought to concentrate on his sermon notes. Every time he relaxed for an instant, his mind wandered to Willow. Because he found this a pleasant pursuit, he found his mind relaxing all too frequently.

She was exquisite. Everything about her appealed to him. And to find she was as talented as she was sweet and beautiful. . .

His chest swelled, and his mouth stretched into the ridiculous grin he’d spied on his face every time he looked in the mirror lately. Only the knowledge he had a sermon to prepare for the morning kept him from attending the theater again tonight.

His black-and-white tomcat hopped up onto the desk, crinkling papers and scattering notes. He sniffed the sermon notes and flopped down across Silas’s open Bible, yawning and showing a lot of sharp white teeth and pink tongue.

“Come on. The sermon can’t be that boring, Sherman.” Silas cupped the furry head, smiling at the rumbling purr deep in the cat’s chest.

The cat regarded him with green eyes before falling to licking his snowy paws. Silas propped his elbows on the desk and planted his chin on his fists. “I know. I should be working, but it’s hard to concentrate.”

A knock sounded on the side door. Grateful for the interruption, Silas went to open it.

“Kenneth, hello. What brings you out tonight?”

The young man stood on the stoop, his hat brim crushed in his fists. “Evening, pastor. I saw your light on. Hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Silas stood back. “Of course not. My door is always open. I’m happy to see you. Though Sherman is a good listener, he isn’t much of a conversationalist.” He waved to where the cat lolled on the desk. “Come in.”

Kenneth Hayes shuffled in, shoulders drooping.

Silas ran through what he knew about the young man and couldn’t come up with a ready reason for his distress, but even his short time in the pastorate had taught him to be prepared for anything. What he saw with parishioners wasn’t necessarily what he got.

“Have a seat.” He directed the young man to the chairs before the cold fireplace. Kenneth was so ill at ease, having Silas sit behind his desk might scare him off altogether. Even now as he lowered himself onto the chair he looked about ready to bolt. “Would you like some coffee? I can brew up a pot in a jiffy.”

“No, I’m fine.” He tried to smooth out the creases in his hat, then rubbed his palms down his thighs one at a time. He swallowed hard.

Silas sat across from him. Leaning back, he relaxed hoping Kenneth could do the same.

Sherman dropped off the desk and came over to investigate the visitor. When Kenneth leaned down to scratch the cat’s ears, Sherman ducked and moved away to sit on the cold hearth. He wrapped his tail around his feet and went still as a statue.

“Don’t mind him. He’s a bit antisocial. You’d think a cat living in the parsonage would learn some hospitality, but I haven’t managed to teach him yet.” Silas changed the subject. “I heard you got promoted over at the Mackenzie mine. Congratulations. Shift manager, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Pay increase and day shift.” Kenneth couldn’t seem to find anywhere to look for long, and he avoided Silas’s gaze completely.

Silas decided to jump right in. “What’s bothering you? You’ll probably feel better if you get it off your chest.”

The young man’s eyes widened, and his look collided with Silas’s for an instant before dropping to the floor between his boots. “I guess you could say I have some girl trouble.”

Silas nodded. “Girls do have a way of tying a fellow up in knots.”

“This girl could give lessons.” He fisted his hands and tapped on the arm of the chair. “I’ve never been so snarled up. She loves me. I know she does.”

“And I take it you feel the same?”

Kenneth nodded, his shoulders slumping. “More than I can say. I can’t stop thinking about her. I want to spend every minute with her, and I want to tell the world she’s mine.”

Silas blinked. Kenneth had summed up rather neatly the way Silas was beginning to feel about Willow. “What’s holding you back?”

“She is. It’s like she’s ashamed of me or something. I want to go to her father and ask permission to court her, but she won’t let me. Says she knows her folks won’t say yes.”

“What objection would they have?” Silas frowned. Kenneth was a fine, upstanding young man with good prospects. He had a good job, came to church regularly, and Silas had never heard of him getting into any kind of trouble.

“I’m not good enough, I guess. I thought getting promoted at the mine might change her mind, but she’s standing firm.” He sighed.

“Maybe I could help persuade her parents if you told me who she was.”

Kenneth shook his head. “Naw, there’s nothing you can do. She wouldn’t like it if she knew I was here talking to you about it, but I’m going crazy. I had to talk to someone.”

“If you aren’t calling on the girl socially, where do you see her?”

A flush mottled his face, and he cleared his throat.

“I take it you’ve been together when her parents don’t know?” Silas kept his voice as neutral as possible, wanting Kenneth to see the wrong without having to be bashed over the head with it.

“I know. It’s gotten to the point where she’s lying to get out of the house.”

Silas pursed his lips, considering. “I can appreciate how you feel, being in love, wanting to be with someone. But you have to realize that a relationship based on lies and sneaking around is on rocky ground. She’s put you in a bad position by not letting you declare your intentions, and you’ve put her in a bad place by encouraging her to be untruthful.”

Kenneth rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “I know.”

“And you know you have one of two choices to make this right?” Silas leaned forward and put his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands loosely. “You either have to go to her father and declare your intentions, or you have to stop seeing this girl. Nothing good will come from your continuing to meet in secret. You’ve already compromised this young girl’s reputation by seeing her without her parents’ permission.”

“There’s one other choice.” Kenneth mumbled the words.

“Oh?”

“We could elope, just run off and get married. Her folks couldn’t say no to me if the deal was already done.” A defiant light sparked in Kenneth’s eyes. His chin came up, and he gripped his knees.

Silas took a moment to marshal his thoughts and select his words. “That’s pretty rash. I know you feel desperate right now, but I would caution you to think this through. If this girl still lives at home, then she’s under her father’s protection. It is her obligation to honor him. You don’t even know if your suit would be denied. Before you do something as drastic and permanent as getting married in secret, it would be best if you talked to her father man-to-man. How would you feel if it were your daughter? Would you want her to run off and get married, or would you want to sit down and talk things out?”

The starch drained out of Kenneth, and he sagged into the chair. “You’re right. You’re not telling me anything I haven’t told myself a hundred times. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else. If someone ran off with my daughter, I’d hunt him down and fill him full of buckshot.”

“Maybe you two are worried about nothing. Maybe her folks will like you just fine.”

“I think they’re aiming higher for their daughter than a simple shift manager.”

“Who’s to say you’ll stop at shift manager? You’ve got great potential. The Mackenzies already see it, promoting you so quickly. I have a feeling, if you put your mind to it, you could own and operate your own mine before too long. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Kenneth shrugged and rose. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks for listening.”

“Before you go, can we pray about this?” Silas invited Kenneth to sit once more. “I think we’ll both feel better if we take it to the Lord.”

At Kenneth’s nod, Silas bowed his head. “Dear Lord, You know what’s on Kenneth’s heart. You know how much he loves this girl and wants to be with her, but You also know he wants to do what is right, what You want him to do. I pray You would give him courage to talk to this girl’s father, and that if it is Your will, her father would consent to Kenneth courting his daughter. In all of this, we want to glorify You, and we ask for wisdom and for Your will to be made plain. Amen.”

“Amen.”

When Silas closed the door and returned to his sermon notes, he had to move Sherman off his Bible once more. The cat sat on the corner of the desk, staring at him unblinkingly.

Silas picked up his pencil and bent over his papers, but the cat’s unnerving stare made the hair on the back of his neck itch. Finally he threw down his writing utensil. “Fine, you don’t have to say it. I know.”

Sherman gave one, slow blink.

“I know I need to ask permission to court Willow. It’s hypocritical to tell Kenneth what he needs to do to make things right when I’ve been lax myself. I’ll tend to it Monday morning.”

❧

Willow kept her head lowered, hoping to slip into the church without being recognized. She stifled a yawn, wishing she could’ve skipped the reception last night. Falling into bed exhausted at three in the morning was no way to prepare for Sunday worship.

Organ music filled the room, and great blocks of colorful light fell across the congregation from the beautiful windows.

Willow found a seat near the back and placed her Bible in her lap. Worshipping with other believers after such a long absence felt like a favorite shawl wrapping around her. I’m sorry I’ve neglected coming to church for so long, Lord. Please forgive me.

She raised her head just a bit and watched her fellow worshippers from under the edge of her swooping hat brim. Silas must be here somewhere. He’d mentioned church on more than one occasion. She studied the backs of the men in front of her and took surreptitious peeks at those on either side. The place was full. Perhaps he was up near the front. She spied the Mackenzie family, Silas’s friends who had brought him to the theater. Perhaps he was sitting with them. Craning her neck slightly, she tried to see, but too many people blocked her way. Short of standing up and making a fool of herself, she had little hope of finding him. She’d have to wait for the service to conclude.

Focus on worship. That’s why you’re here, not to gawk after Silas.

A side door on the platform opened, and a tall man slipped in. Willow’s breath caught in her throat. Though he had his back turned to her to shut the door, she knew in an instant it was Silas. He must be a deacon or something. Perhaps he was reading scripture before the pastor took the pulpit. Pleasure that he would be such an active member of the church warmed her insides. No wonder he was curious as to her church background.

“Please rise and open your hymnals to song fifty-four.” His deep voice filled the room. He seemed so comfortable up front; he must help out with the services often. She could hardly wait to hear his singing voice, hoping it was as rich and mellow as his speaking voice.

Fabric swished and pages rustled as the congregation found the right song. And when Silas began to sing, Willow wasn’t disappointed. His voice reached her over everyone else’s, and she wanted to close her eyes and savor the sound. Guilt at her distraction flew in on swift wings, and she found her place in the hymnal.

After the singing Silas invited them to join him in prayer. He spoke from the heart, his words sincere as he asked God’s blessing on the congregation and their time of worship and on the reading of God’s Word.

“Today, I’d like to begin a series of sermons on living a godly life. I’d like to open the Word with you and see what God has to say about our hearts and how they affect our actions. The text for today comes from Romans, chapter seven.”

Realization swept over Willow, bringing numbness. Silas wasn’t just helping with the service. He was the preacher. Her mind hop-skipped, trying to sort the ramifications of his occupation. Though she hadn’t pegged him as a preacher, it certainly fit with his demeanor, the caring look in his eyes. But did it fit with the thoughts she’d had about him, the stirrings of romantic notions that had colored her world since she first met him?

Onionskin pages whispered, and Silas paused so everyone could find the passage. He read the chapter with conviction and feeling, and Willow’s skin tingled. Such authority in his voice, such power.

“Isn’t this just like us? Don’t we often suffer the same affliction as the apostle Paul?” Silas scanned the crowd. “The good deeds we want to do we don’t do, and the bad deeds we don’t want to do are exactly what we find ourselves doing.”

Drawn in by the power of his sermon, she forgot where she was, focusing on the truths revealed, immersing herself in once again sharing the fellowship of a church. His description of the struggle against sin mesmerized her. She tucked her lower lip in and pondered his words.

“We forget that as believers we are dead to sin, that sin no longer has the power to control us. We don’t have to sin, even though we often behave as if we do.”

The sermon ended all too quickly for Willow. Why hadn’t she seen it before? The power and conviction behind Silas’s preaching showed he was born to this calling. He couldn’t be anything but a preacher. She was so proud of him that she wanted to stand and applaud.

As everyone rose for the closing hymn, his eyes locked with hers. That familiar and yet strange sensation of being deeply connected to one another made her skin tingle. She responded to his broad smile with one of her own, suddenly eager for the service to be over so she could tell him how wonderful his preaching was.

And yet, when the service ended, Willow hung back, trying to remain inconspicuous until the majority of the parishioners had greeted Silas and exited the church. Several people nodded and said hello to her. The Mackenzies greeted her on their way out. Silas glanced at her several times, smiling, asking her with his eyes to wait.

At last the crowd thinned to an expectant group of boys near the door. Silas came toward her, hands outstretched. “You came.”

She returned the pressure of his fingers, unable to quell the joy bubbling through her. “It was a wonderful service.”

“Are we going to go now?” The plaintive cry came from a small, towheaded boy with rosy cheeks and pale blue eyes. “You said we could go right after church.”

“Just a minute, Tick.” Silas turned back to Willow.

“You have to go?” She tried to hide her disappointment and feared she failed.

His hands tightened on hers. “The boys and I are having a picnic and doing some fishing this afternoon. It’s a reward for all their hard work in Sunday school. Every last one of them has memorized three different Psalms and the Ten Commandments this winter.” He didn’t sound as enthused as the boys, and she hoped it was because he didn’t want to leave her any more than she wanted him to go.

But duty called, and he must answer. She nodded. “Sounds like fun. I hope you all have a good time.”

“Say, why don’t you come with us? The theater is closed on Sundays, isn’t it? You can spend the afternoon with me and the boys and show off your newfound rock-skipping skills.”

She glanced at the children. The younger ones didn’t seem to mind, but the oldest one—tall, thin, and with a hank of black hair hanging over his forehead—rolled his eyes, shoved his hands in his pockets, and sighed.

“Phin, do you have any objections?” Silas asked the boy.

For a moment he looked as if he wanted to protest, but in the end he shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other and herded the rest of the boys out the door.

She tucked her hand into Silas’s offered arm. “I’d be delighted.”