He’s coming around.”
Lou chewed the inside of her lip as Grandma waved smelling salts under Trent’s nose. He’d been out cold for a full five minutes, and a goose egg had formed on his forehead.
His eyes opened slowly. A collective sigh of relief whooshed through the neighbors clamoring around the poor man.
“You okay, Parson?” Grandma asked as Sam lifted Trent’s shoulders to help the dazed man sit up.
“We told you to duck.” King One scowled and shook his head. “How come you just stood there gathering wool like a woman?”
“I guess I was a mite sidetracked.” Trent appeared to be trying to focus. “I was thinking about Lou’s eyes,” he mumbled.
Shouts of laugher rocked the porch. Lou’s face flamed.
“You did get knocked in the head, Parson, if you’re thinking of courting that Lou Stafford,” Ruth Testament piped in. “I told you what she did to my boy.”
Lou averted her gaze as the woman glared at her.
“I beg your pardon, Louisa.” Trent glanced at her as though suddenly aware of his slip of tongue. “I’m a bit rattled.”
“It’s all right,” she whispered. Guilty glee shifted through her at the thought of him pondering her eyes. Although, he hadn’t actually said he liked them. Only that he’d been thinking about them.
Grandma stood and nodded to Sam. “Help the parson inside.”
“I’m fine,” Trent protested. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“A little late for that, ain’t it?” groused King One.
Lou threw the full force of her glare at the Testament. “Leave him alone.”
He glared right back. “Lou Stafford, I officially withdraw my offer of marriage.”
More chuckles sounded from the group.
“Good!” she flung at King One as she followed Sam and Trent. “It’s about time. I wouldn’t marry you if you were named after King David!”
The crowd roared. The Testaments sputtered. “I think we’ve worn out our welcome,” Exodus shouted, his face red with anger. “Ruth, pack up the vittles we brought and get to the wagon.”
“Oh, Exodus, simmer down,” Grandma said. “Now, you know good and well these folks are only having a little fun. Dinner’s just about ready, so how about everyone gather ’round? Since the parson’s a bit addled at the moment, may I suggest Exodus Testament ask the blessing?”
Visibly mollified, Mr. Testament removed his hat. “I’d be honored to stand in for the parson.”
Lou shook her head and inwardly cheered Grandma. The genteel graces with which the southern lady had been raised came in handy at each gathering. At least one person—usually a Testament—got ruffled feathers that had to be smoothed.
Bowing her head, Lou waited as a hush fell over the group of neighbors. They stood on the porch and in the yard—the men with hats in hands, women with their hands clasped in front of them.
A chill slithered down Lou’s spine as Mr. Testament began his prayer. This sort of gathering was what building a community was all about: families joining together to honor the Lord’s Day, to fellowship, knowing that even if there were disagreements, anything could be settled with a handshake and a prayer.
As Mr. Testament droned on past a simple blessing, Lou found her mind wandering despite her best attempts to stay focused. The little community was quickly becoming a town. All they needed was a school and a church, and then more and more people would start settling around Petunia. And if they did, it wouldn’t be long before Petunia needed a teacher and a permanent minister.
Lou drew in a breath, and her eyes popped open despite the fact that Mr. Testament was still voicing his long-winded prayer. She glanced at Trent leaning against the door pane for support, and then her gaze roamed until she located Timmy and Davy. They belonged here. It was time the parson settled down and took a wife—her, for instance—and raised those boys up right. They shouldn’t be on the trail. Who was seeing to their schooling? Timmy loved to read. But how long would that last if he was denied books and the opportunity to continue his education?
Noting that Mr. Testament was winding down, Lou hurriedly shut her eyes. But she had every intention of speaking with Grandma and the brothers about offering the parson a place to settle.
“I think Lou’s got a point.”
Lou’s brow rose at the agreement coming from Josh.
“I agree, too,” Deborah said quietly. “We need a permanent church and a preacher. The parson has those boys now and needs to be in one place. It sounds like a good solution to me.”
Grandma’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “I’m all for the parson settling down here among us. And I think donating an acre of land to build the church is a wonderful idea.”
Micah nodded and smacked his thigh. “It’s settled then. As soon as the parson heads back out, we’ll call a town meeting and get a vote.” His lips twitched as he glanced at Lou. “I’m not altogether sure what your motives were, Lou, but you came up with a sound idea.”
Feeling the perusal of her family, Lou’s cheeks warmed. “I just think we need to snatch him up before one of his other congregations offers him a place to settle.”
Josh snickered. “I reckon what you really mean is that you want to snatch him up before some other girl does. Never thought I’d see the day Lou would be setting her cap for a fellow. And a parson at that.”
“Stop it,” Grandma admonished before Lou could form a crushing retort. “Lou has another point about Timmy and Davy. Someone needs to see to their education. What do you think about offering to let them stay on here while the parson finishes up his obligations on the circuit? Between Lou and Deborah and me, we can get some book learning and manners drummed into them. And I noticed they’re both in need of some new trousers. We should get started making those pretty soon.”
Deborah stood, cradling her stomach, her face suddenly void of color. “Excuse me, I need to. I’m …” She ran out of the house.
Lou frowned at Micah. “Deborah ailing?”
His worried gaze settled on the door Deborah had left wide open. “I don’t know. Maybe I should go after her.”
Grandma stood. “I’ll go. You fix your wife a nice hot water bottle and take it upstairs.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lou scowled. All they needed was to have a bout of sickness sweep through the whole house. She had planned to ask Deborah for some advice about Trent. But she supposed she’d have to wait now. She couldn’t chance getting sick when she was about to start teaching the boys, who could quite possibly be her future sons.
When it rained it poured. So far, every congregation Trent had attended this time out on the circuit had offered him a permanent position. All but Petunia. He figured he’d blown his chances there, what with his poor excuse for a sermon, followed by getting himself knocked out and admitting he’d been daydreaming about a girl—just like a love-struck boy.
Trent had to admit this particular offer was everything he’d hoped for. A moderate but livable salary, a place for the boys and him to live. It was everything he wanted except for the location. As fine as these good people were, they weren’t the Staffords or the Pivens or even the Testaments. Trent’s heart was in the town of Petunia.
He glanced around at the group of men waiting expectantly for his answer.
“Gentleman, I’m honored by your offer.” The men exhibited grins all around.
“Do we have a deal then?” The town’s founder, Edward Kline, stepped forward, extending his hand.
“Well, I’ll certainly pray about it. I’ve recently had a couple of similar offers, and I want to make sure I walk through the right door.”
“You mean you might take another church?”
“Does that mean you’d stop coming around here?”
“Gentlemen, please.” Trent held up his hands for silence. “I haven’t made any decisions. But I will have a definite answer for you when I come back through in six weeks.”
“You didn’t answer the question, Parson. If you take a position somewhere else, does that mean you won’t be preaching here anymore?”
“Well, if I accepted your offer, wouldn’t you expect me to be here each Lord’s Day?”
“I reckon.” Mr. Kline glanced around. “Maybe we ought to take back the offer. Seems to me a once-in-a-while preacher is better than no preacher at all.”
“Whether you take the offer back or not is certainly your decision,” Trent said, keeping his voice even. “But I have my boys to think of. They need a real home. So I will be finding somewhere to hang my hat before long. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping to settle in some place by Christmas.”
“Christmas! That’s only a few weeks away.”
“Yes, sir. I know. But that’s what I feel is the right thing to do for my boys.” Trent rubbed his hand over his face, wishing he didn’t feel so many conflicting emotions. “Timmy and Davy have been staying with friends for the past weeks, and I have to admit I miss them more than I thought possible.”
Mr. Kline gathered a slow breath and nodded. “Then I suppose we’d like you to keep our offer in mind. We’ll surely be praying that God will give you the right answer.”
Trent’s heart warmed. “Thank you.”
“Oh, Parson. Betsy says stop by before you leave town. The children have plumb outgrown every pair of boots they own, and she wants to donate them to your basket.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kline. That’s kind of you both.”
By evening, Trent had his second horse loaded with one more bag of serviceable hand-me-downs for the Piven children. He’d been so moved by Mrs. Piven’s attempt to keep the children neat and proper with the little she had that he’d decided to put the word out and see what he could turn up. He grinned. The Pivens would more than likely be the best-dressed family in Petunia after this Christmas.
His thoughts turned to the boys, and he wondered how Timmy and Davy were getting along. He pictured the two of them running around with Shane, doing their chores and lessons. Were they happy? Or did they resent him for leaving them behind?
In three days, he’d be home. Home. Was Petunia home? Releasing a sigh, he looked heavenward to the blue, blue sky and thought of Lou.