21

IMOGENE BENNETT.”

Although Aunt Sadie had come home to visit Gran, she was also using the time away from work to ramp up her research. She clapped her hands above the keyboard where she sat at the kitchen table and stared into the backlit screen. “Imogene Long married Chuck Bennett in 1932 and they lived in Swain’s Gap until 1938 when they moved to Brook Hill. That’s what was throwing me off.”

Ella paused in her window washing, something she almost never bothered to do in her own home. But she knew Gran did it every few months and so here she was with crumpled newspapers dirtying her hands and vinegar burning her nose, hoping Gran might be home soon to appreciate it.

“Does she still live there?” Ella asked.

“That’s the next step,” Sadie said. “I’ll follow the census records as far as they go and hope there’s some other record if she moved.” She tapped her mouth with an index finger. “I’m going to the library after I visit Mother. They should have access to West Virginia records that might not be online.”

“I’ll come with you and stay with Gran while you do your research. You can pick me up on the way back home.”

“Excellent. I’m sure Mother will like that.”

Ella tidied up her mess and grabbed her sewing bag with the quilt hanging she was working on for the hunting lodge. She was less excited about the job now that she feared the church might sell out to Keith. Still, she needed to honor her word. Keith couldn’t help it if the members of Laurel Mountain were wanting to sell the church building.

She should probably stay and try to finish Will and Laura’s quilt. The wedding was just over two months away and she was doing her best not to mind that she wasn’t the one getting married. Of course, she had more important things to worry about. Between Gran’s health and the threat to the church, romance was pretty low on her priority list at the moment.

At the nursing home, Sadie bustled around Gran’s room—moving things, tidying books and magazines, and chattering on about work and the upcoming wedding. Ella felt certain that Gran would much prefer they just sit with her and maybe share a few bits of news that really mattered. Brimming over with nervous energy, Sadie finally excused herself, saying she had errands to run and would be back in an hour or so. Her leaving allowed a sense of peace to settle over the room.

Gran waved her good hand at an armchair, and Ella helped her from the bed into the chair. She knew Gran preferred to be up, but suspected she’d stayed in bed because she knew Sadie was coming. There was still a strong undercurrent between the two of them, which Ella had no idea how to ease.

Gran’s chair was positioned to take advantage of the March sunlight that seemed to shine right through her pale skin, illuminating blue veins beneath. She exhaled deeply and placed a reverent hand on the quilt piece Ella had pulled out and draped across her lap while Aunt Sadie was flitting around. She’d used both fly and herringbone stitches and was now in the process of adding beads for embellishment. Ella could feel Gran’s approval of the piece and it made the job more palatable.

A knock at the door startled Ella. She looked up to see Pastor Richard standing there. He visibly brightened when he saw her. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, then flushed. “I haven’t made a pastoral call on Perla in a few weeks. Thought it was high time.”

Ella smiled, feeling flattered by his pleasure, though she wasn’t sure she should. “Come on in. You’ve picked a good day. Gran and I are doing some quilting.”

Richard strode into the room, and Ella found herself considering him afresh. She’d been distracted by Seth for a while, but now that he seemed to not care about selling off the church property, she found him somehow less attractive. And watching Richard pull a chair over to sit beside Gran and talk to her reminded her of what she’d admired in the preacher when she first met him.

Richard took Gran’s hand. “We’ve missed seeing you at church.” He glanced at Ella with a smile. “And not only because your lovely granddaughter has been staying away, as well.”

That earned Ella a stern look from Gran.

Richard continued, “I wanted to check on you and see if there’s anything I can do to help, to get you back into church and involved in the community.”

Gran’s smile faded and she pulled her hand free, tucking it under the afghan Ella had spread over her legs. She gave a little shake of her head and angled her body away from Richard as though to look out the window. Richard turned to Ella, a confused expression creasing his face.

“Thank you so much for asking, Richard, but Gran’s doing so much better already. She’ll be out and about again before we know it.” Ella pasted on a smile to make up for Gran’s deepening frown. “Tell us what’s been happening at church.”

She meant the comment to be light, to steer the conversation away from Gran, but of course something really was happening at church. Richard plowed a hand through his hair and leaned back in the chair.

“I’m afraid this business of selling the property to Keith Randolph is putting a great deal of strain on the congregation.”

Ella leaned in. No one in her family had mentioned anything lately, and she’d hoped the talk had died down. “How so?”

“Those who want to sell and those who want to stay aren’t exactly getting along and I’m having a hard time mediating.” He tilted his head like a small boy trying to figure out how to climb a tree. “It seems to me this ought to be a primarily practical decision. We ought to weigh the value of the property against the offer, consider the feasibility of building elsewhere, look at how the land will be managed and even preserved, consider how best we can serve God, and then come to a conclusion.”

Ella was torn between incredulity and laughter. And she thought she was naïve.

“Look to the past.” The words rang out clear and true from Gran. Ella looked at her, but Gran continued to stare out the window as if she weren’t aware of the conversation.

“Right,” Ella agreed. “You aren’t taking into consideration the history of the church and the people who attend there. Most of us are descendants of the founders. It’s more than a building and plot of land worth so many dollars.” She shifted her sewing in her lap. “And then there’s the fact that the hunting preserve is, well, fancy. Most folks in Wise are pretty plain, and the Laurel Mountain Hunting Preserve tends to make them feel alienated—maybe even inferior.” She glanced at her work. “No matter how much Keith invests in including local crafts and artwork.”

Richard nodded and crossed his legs like he was settling in for a long chat. “I can see that, but then I think about, say, the Israelites. They were pretty attached to their lives in Egypt even as slaves. God didn’t give them much room for sentimentality when He uprooted them and sent them into the desert. But His ultimate plan was better than anything they could imagine.”

Ella started to make a smart comment about how all the older Israelites died before reaching the Promised Land, leaving their children to benefit, but it sounded petty even inside her own head. Instead she smiled and said, “We’re a long way from the Israelites.”

“Sure, but all those stories—all that history—is there to influence us, to teach us how to live in relationship with God. There were plenty of others who had to give up earthly things. David had to live in caves while he was fleeing from Saul. When Ruth’s husband died, she uprooted her life and moved to her mother-in-law’s country.” He was talking with his hands, his eyes lit as though he’d landed on a favorite topic. “When Jesus sent out the seventy-two to spread the gospel, He said, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Go! I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. Do not take a purse or bag or sandals.’”

Ella felt her frustration with Gran and now Richard knotting her stomach. “Yes, yes, and somewhere in the Gospels He says we shouldn’t store up treasures on earth.” She wished she could quote chapter and verse. “But that doesn’t mean we should throw our treasures away, either.”

Richard dropped his foot to the floor and leaned toward her. “Oh, but it does. That’s exactly what it means. There isn’t any treasure this side of heaven.”

Ella wanted to stalk from the room. Richard was just being obstinate and refusing to see her point. But she glanced at Gran and saw a look of . . . pleasure. Was Gran enjoying their exchange? She gritted her teeth.

“You might have a point, but I still think we should be sensitive to how some members of the congregation feel about the church.”

“Absolutely. And you know, I’m beginning to think it’s my role, as pastor, to help them let go of their attachment to earthly things and focus more on the real work of the church.” He sprang from his chair and took both of Ella’s hands in his. “Thank you so much. I know now what I need to preach this coming Sunday. You’ve really helped me clarify a few things in my own mind.” He squeezed her hands and released them. “Now I’m off to rewrite my sermon.” He turned to Gran, gave a courtly bow, and grinned at Ella before dashing for the door.

He skidded to a stop and whirled around. “Hey, seems like your mother mentioned you have a birthday coming up,” he said to Ella.

“Oh, well, yes. I guess we won’t have a big celebration or anything.” She darted a look at Gran. “Maybe some cake—cake is always good.”

“How about I take you to dinner next Wednesday to celebrate?”

“I, uh, sure. That’d be nice.”

“Great,” he said with a big grin. Then he was gone.

Ella stared at the door in stunned silence. What had she done? She turned back to Gran just in time to see a smirk before she shifted in her chair and looked out the window again. Well, if nothing else, she’d managed to entertain her grandmother.

“Think maybe you’ll feel up to going to church this Sunday?” she asked.

Gran pressed her lips together and shrugged, then gave a nod. That, at least, was something.

Ella settled into her usual spot in the third pew next to Gran. They had to bring her in a wheelchair and fashion a ramp at the second entrance, but here she was and that was a triumph in Ella’s mind. She looked around noticing that while church attendance still hadn’t picked up, Keith and Seth were both here. And Keith had a young woman with him. A pretty woman who looked almost elfin with her short dark hair, green eyes, and pale skin with the most adorable sprinkling of freckles across her pert little nose.

Seth seemed to take notice of the new attendee, as well. Ella tried to steer her attention back to the sermon rather than stewing over a new face attracting a great deal of attention.

After church, Richard got caught up in conversation with Keith and the young woman. Ella determined not to butt in no matter how curious she was, but Richard motioned her over.

“Ella,” he said, “come meet Keith’s daughter, Tara.”

Ella plastered a smile on her face as she shook hands with Tara. Up close, she was even more appealing. Ella caught herself before she reached up to touch her own nose, which she’d always thought turned up too much on the end. Tara smiled and glanced up through long, luscious eyelashes that probably didn’t even need mascara. As a matter of fact, Ella suspected the other woman wasn’t wearing any makeup at all.

“Nice to meet you,” Tara said, her voice as delicate as she was.

“Oh, and you too.” Ella’s voice sounded too loud against Tara’s softness. “Isn’t Richard a great pastor?” she said, laying a hand on his arm in a way that felt awkward to her and probably looked awkward to everyone else.

“He’s wonderful,” breathed Tara. “His sermon was practically poetry. I’ve been asking him about the imagery he used.”

Ella had found the imagery of earthly treasures heavy-handed and obvious. She’d also found the sermon annoying in the way it kept harping on eternity and the ephemeral nature of this world. Richard had actually used that word. Ephemeral. Who talked like that?

Richard looked to be blushing. Ella squinted at him, and he flushed deeper with an unconvincing laugh. “I’ll see you on Wednesday,” he said. Tara smiled and nodded before heading out the door.

Then it clicked in Ella’s brain. Wednesday was when they were going to dinner.

“Wednesday? We have plans for Wednesday, don’t we?”

Richard smacked himself in the forehead. “I’ve been planning to start a Bible study on Wednesday evenings ever since I got here, and when Tara asked if there was anything going on that she could participate in, I figured it would be the perfect time.” He smiled like a cat inviting her to leave the birdcage open. “Of course I’m counting on you being there, too. We could go to dinner on Friday.”

Ella didn’t realize Dad was at her elbow until he spoke. “Richard, why don’t you come celebrate Ella’s birthday with the whole family on Friday. Will’s bringing Laura and I’ll be bringing Mom home for the evening—it’ll be a regular party.”

“Perfect.” Richard smiled. “I’ll bring flowers.”

Ella ramped her own smile back up—she could feel it slipping. “Yep. Sure. That sounds good.”

And the next thing Ella knew, she didn’t have a date, but she did have a birthday party. Not only were Richard and Laura coming, but Aunt Sadie invited Keith and Tara while Will asked Seth. Funny—no one asked how she wanted to celebrate her birthday.

Ella stewed all the way home over the church property, Richard’s fickle nature, and the way everyone assumed she’d go along with what they wanted. So what if she usually did. It didn’t make them any less inconsiderate. Back at the house, she headed for her room and grabbed her laptop. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she rattled off a quick email and hit send. As soon as it was gone, she felt something hard form in her gut.

She told herself she was just being wise. And Mark would know if there was anything she could do to legally stop the sale of the church property. It wasn’t like she was suggesting they get back together—this was purely business. Mark hadn’t been in touch with her since she sent his bracelet back to him. It was March now. Obviously he’d moved on.

Closing her laptop, Ella stretched her neck. Mark probably wouldn’t even respond. He wasn’t the sort of person to do favors unless he could get something out of it. Yup. Sending him an email was nothing more than an outlet for her frustration. No harm done.