Chapter Four

Dodd shifted his weight, trying to find a position that would prevent his shoulder blades from grating against the wooden pew. He had preached on the topic of fellowship, an easy segue into the luncheon planned after the worship service, and he felt good about his first sermon. The congregation seemed responsive—not too many yawns—but Dodd knew it would take a while to prove himself. Not only was he unknown to these people, but he was young. Very young. While he joined the congregation in singing “Shall We Gather at the River?” Dodd observed the people sitting around him.

Fawn Blaylock sat across the aisle with her boyfriend, Tyler Cruz, who lived in the neighboring town of Snyder. Dodd liked Fawn, but he couldn’t quite figure her out. She hadn’t mentioned her boyfriend in two days, and Dodd was startled when Tyler showed up at services that morning, but that wasn’t the only thing that surprised him about Fawn. Every so often, the girl would throw out a comment about someone, not necessarily disrespectful, but close.

His glance fell on Emily Sanders, Fawn’s shadow, perched on the pew in front of him. Every few minutes, the girl looked over her shoulder. Dodd couldn’t tell if she was looking at him or Grady or both. Hopefully Grady, since Emily was in high school.

Two middle school boys rustled in the corner, but Dodd couldn’t remember their names. From the looks of it, they whispered about Grady’s and his clothing. Dodd checked Grady’s tie for breakfast cereal, then took a survey of the males around him, discovering the appropriate attire for the Trapp congregation consisted of button-down shirts, starched Wranglers, and polished boots.

Down the aisle from him, Neil Blaylock and his wife sat like statues. In fact, most of the congregants lent a serious tone to their worship. Dodd wished he could’ve heard the previous minister once or twice, just to know what the church was used to, but no matter, he’d preach where the Lord led him. Dodd smiled. He had been curious about the Trapp elders hiring him without ever hearing him preach, but now he marveled at himself accepting the job without asking if the pews were cushioned.

Twenty minutes later, two eight-foot-long tables laden with casserole dishes occupied the front sidewalk, and Charlie Mendoza stood nearby, preparing to address the congregation with the other two elders. The night before at the Blaylocks’ cookout, Dodd had gotten to know all of them better as Charlie supplied a running narrative, boasting that all three men had been members of the congregation since the cradle-roll class. Dodd went home that night knowing more about the church leaders than some of his own cousins.

Eighty-three-year-old Lee Roy Goodnight, the oldest of the three, had been an elder for thirty-five years. According to Charlie, his health might be failing, but not his heart or mind. Lee Roy grasped a cane with one wrinkled hand and raised the other to get everyone’s attention. As conversations tapered, Dodd strained to hear the man’s raspy voice. “We welcome Dodd Cunningham to our fellowship today, along with his mother, Milla, and brother, Grady. Dodd, you have a pair of big shoes to fill, but after such a fine sermon, I’d say the Trapp congregation is blessed to have you in our pulpit.” His speech seemed to tire him, and he wiped the corner of his mouth with a cloth handkerchief.

Neil Blaylock spoke next, standing straight with one thumb hooked through a loop near his silver belt buckle. “I’ve gotten to know Dodd over the past few days, and I’m impressed with the man.” He grinned, white teeth against tan skin. “He may be young, but that’s to our advantage, because we can raise him like we want.”

The congregation tittered, but Charlie’s voice carried over them. “Dodd’s daddy and I attended college together, and I can vouch he comes from good people. Don’t take my word for it, though. Get to know him. I’d say the man can take care of himself. Amen?”

He received a chorus of responses, giving Dodd yet another reason to like him.

“Since we all agree the new preacher is a dandy,” Charlie said, “let’s get down to business and pray for the cooking.” He paused, then lowered his voice. “Dear Lord, we thank You for this food, and we ask that You would bless it. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”

Dodd barely had time to bow his head before the prayer ended. “That’s my kind of blessing,” he mumbled. As he stood in the churchyard, the herbaceous scent of lasagna caused his stomach to protest, and he stepped toward Lee Roy as the line dwindled. “I’m overwhelmed by the church’s response, Lee Roy.”

The older man waved a gnarled hand. “You won’t find a better group of people on the whole of God’s green earth.”

“I believe you’re right.” Dodd stepped to Lee Roy’s other side to avoid a red-ant bed.

“And don’t worry, you’ll pick up on how we do things here. You’re young and adaptable.”

Dodd hesitated. “Anything in particular?”

“It’s a fact we read from the King James here in Trapp.” He leaned heavily on his cane, and Dodd noticed the old man had stirred the ants into a maelstrom. “If it was good enough for Paul, it’s good enough for us.” Lee Roy chuckled at his own cleverness.

“I like the NIV myself,” Dodd said, steering Lee Roy to a safer location. “But sometimes I pull out the King James or the Revised Standard for comparison.”

Lee Roy blinked twice. “We use the King James.”

“Um … yes, sir.”

A whiff of yeast washed between them as Emily Sanders appeared at his elbow, pulling apart a roll. She bit off a minuscule section.

Lee Roy nodded at Dodd, frowned at Emily, then hobbled away.

“Aren’t you eating?” Emily swung from side to side as she nibbled.

“I was just getting in line.” When Emily followed, he did his best to make small talk. “So, have Fawn and Tyler been dating long?”

“Forever. They’re perfect together. Everybody says so. Dad calls them two peas in a pod, them having so much in common. Or their families, that is. Mom says Byron Cruz is as powerful in Scurry County as Neil Blaylock is here in Garza County.” Her speech accelerated. “Sometimes I wonder at them ever getting married. Not that they are, but can you imagine? It would be like thunder and lightning, or firecrackers and sparklers, or … or … Prince William and Kate.” She smiled dreamily before she gasped, possibly realizing her show of emotion had gone overboard. “I’ll go save you a seat.” She scampered away.

Dodd picked up a paper plate and fanned himself as he loosened his tie. The unofficial dress code might not be a bad idea after all. As he loaded his plate with lasagna, green-bean casserole, and fried chicken, Emily’s mother—an older, plumper version of Emily—positioned herself across the table, filling her own plate with seconds.

“I see you’ve taken notice of my sweet Emily,” she said.

Dodd reached for a deviled egg, opting to keep his mouth shut.

“She’s a good student, mostly As and Bs, and she can cook better than I could at that age. I don’t know where she gets it.” The woman paused long enough to heap a spoonful of mashed potatoes on her plate. “She’s been helping with the toddler’s Sunday school class for two years now, babysitting for four.”

Dodd hesitated at the napkins and worked one out from under the glass casserole lid that prevented the stack from blowing to New Mexico. “I’m sure you’re proud of your daughter, Mrs. Sanders.”

“She’ll make a fine wife.” The woman hit a serving spoon firmly against a dish to release a blob of macaroni and cheese. “She’ll be graduating this year. Been thinking of going on to college, but she’d rather just settle down with a strong Christian man and birth a houseful of little ones.”

Dodd’s paper plate wobbled. “I’ll be working at the high school, Mrs. Sanders. I don’t think it’s appropriate—”

“Excellent sermon this morning, Brother Cunningham.” She grinned knowingly as she sailed away from him.

Dodd reached for a plastic fork and stabbed it into his lasagna. Trapp, Texas, with all its quirks, was going to take some getting used to, but he was determined to make the best of it. He chuckled, thinking he’d be more at home on Mars, but people were the same no matter what planet they called home, so he didn’t doubt he could do the Lord’s work. He lifted his chin and walked confidently toward Charlie Mendoza and Neil Blaylock.

 

“I’m expected to use the King James Version,” Dodd said as he backed his mother’s SUV out of the parking space. “I don’t mind, of course.” He scratched his head. “Apparently the NIV isn’t allowed.”

“Neither are slacks,” his mother said.

“Wranglers and boots,” added Grady from the backseat. “We may need to go shopping.”

She clucked her tongue. “I’d hate to commit a social blunder so soon.”

Grady thrust his head over the front seat. “Like preaching from the NIV in your first sermon? Talk about a bad impression.”

Milla thumped him, but Grady stayed where he was, resting his elbows on the back of her seat.

“Mom, did you hear? Dodd’s dating Emily Sanders.”

Dodd groaned. His brother’s words were meant to tease, but anxiety washed across him in waves.

“Grady, leave your brother alone. He has enough on his mind without worrying about an immature girl.” Milla snapped her sun visor down and found him in the mirror. “By the way, aren’t you glad you’ll know a few people on the first day at your new school?”

“It will help.” The leather of the seat cushion made a shushing sound as Grady slouched back.

Dodd welcomed the change in topic. “We met a football player at the grocery store the other night. Luis is in ninth grade, so he won’t be in Grady’s classes, but at least he’ll be another familiar face.”

“The girl’s the one I want in my classes,” Grady said, “but she’s out of school. What was her name?”

Ruthie. The woman had scrubbed that cash register as though it were infested with anthrax. And as she worked, her dark hair swung just above her waist. Dodd cleared his throat. “Ruth, I think.”

“That’s not right,” Grady said. “I remember thinking it wasn’t quite biblical.” He snapped his fingers. “Ruthie. Almost biblical, but not quite.” He quieted as they made a right turn at the town’s lone traffic light. “She seemed a little prickly.”

Prickly might not be the best word to describe Ruthie, but as Dodd parked the SUV in front of the little pink house, he entertained more appropriate adjectives. Like captivating. He grabbed his Bible from the console and slammed the door, realizing the best word to describe her was gorgeous, in an unaware, small-town way.

His mother and Grady went in the house, but Dodd sat on the stoop and rested his Bible on the cool cement next to him. He needed to sort things out. His mother and Grady? Top priorities. The church? Equally important. His new job? Paramount. But women? He’d been so consumed with responsibilities lately, he hadn’t had time to consider the opposite sex. Too many people were depending on him.

But as he remembered Ruthie lifting her hair off her slender neck and tilting her head from side to side, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to get to know her. Even though she hadn’t been at church that morning, she still might be a believer. And if he didn’t do something just for himself, the pressure of his responsibilities would buckle him.

He reached for his Bible. Tomorrow afternoon he’d go by the United, and with a little luck, he might run into Ruthie again.