The Ladies Aid is still waiting to hear what they should serve for the missions fund-raiser,” Gandy said when Alex and Tripod entered the church office.

“It all sounds like a lot of work. This church must have as many meals as it has services.” He thought back to the casseroles, baked goods, venison and dozens of other kind acts involving food that he’d experienced in the few short weeks he’d been at Hilltop.

“Don’t try to stop a Ladies Aid member from cooking a meal they’ve already made their minds up about. It would be like trying to stop the Amtrak with a pile of bean bags. Like I said, I told them to hold off on the lutefisk, but you aren’t out of the woods yet. You’d better be specific—meatballs, ham, tuna casserole, pot roast…”

“No tuna casserole, please.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them to pick one of the others.” A smile played on Gandy’s lips. “You’re pretty popular from what I hear. No one’s complained about anything you’ve done so far. Congratulations.”

“Is that unexpected?”

“This place doesn’t have a critical spirit, if that’s what you mean, but to go this long without doing anything wrong, well, I’d say it’s remarkable.”

More likely miraculous, Alex thought, but didn’t verbalize it. “By the way,” he said, recalling the thought he’d had during his morning run, “I think it would be a nice gesture for Hilltop to invite the people from All Saints for this dinner.”

“I think there goes your winning streak.”

“You don’t think Hilltop would like that?”

“Not after they stood us up at the open house.” Gandy shook her head. “Of course things have softened up between us considerably since the fire. I’ve even been invited to All Saints to learn how they’re putting together their history quilt. But invite them to the Ladies Aid? I don’t know. ”

Alex moved toward his desk, which was stacked with hymnals, Bibles, sermon notes and bags of red licorice. The licorice was Gandy’s big downfall but he’d discovered for himself that it was almost as addictive as chocolate and started his own stash of the candy. He decided to move to a more neutral subject. “How’s Jonas’s garden this year?”

“Huge. He loves to put seed in the ground. He’s Hilltop’s Johnny Appleseed. Jonas subscribes to the old way, even with his crops. He rotates crops to put nutrients back into the soil and doesn’t depend on fertilizer. He lets land lie fallow to rebuild itself, and he plants a variety of crops on the land so that no one crop drains the soil of its nutrients. What some crops take out of the soil, others put back in. Maybe that’s part of his problem. He’s too good a steward of the soil. He could make a lot more money dumping fertilizer, pesticides and who knows what other chemicals on his land, like everyone else does.” She paused to study him. “What is this about?”

“I’m sure there is a place for both kinds of farmers, Gandy. I’m just trying to figure out the place where Jonas fits in.”

She harrumphed loudly. “Jonas doesn’t fit in anywhere these days.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I think that Jonas just hasn’t found his niche yet.”

“Neesch? What’s that?”

“It’s an area that is particularly suited to someone’s gifts, talents or personality. In business, it can mean a specialized market.”

“I don’t get it,” Gandy said bluntly. “What does that have to do with my brother?”

“Niche markets specialize in a certain type of product or service.”

“Like what?” Gandy was interested but unconvinced.

“Snowblowers, for example, or tree removal.”

She stared at him, confusion written all over her face. Alex thought he’d lost her so he hurried to explain.

“Say that you like to fix lawn and garden tractors and lawn mowers, but you especially enjoy fixing snowblowers. In fact, you’re really good at fixing them, better than anyone else in a hundred and fifty mile radius. People begin to hear about your work and start to bring you their snowblowers to repair. Word spreads and soon you are the most prominent and popular snowblower repairman around. Snowblower repair becomes your niche, your specialty, the thing that sets you apart from everyone else. It’s the same way with tree removal. My father had to have several sick elms taken down around his apartment building, but he wouldn’t let just anyone come in and start chopping. He made an appointment with the best company in town, one that had taken down more elms than any other. That was their niche.”

“And Jonas’s niche is…?” She cocked her head, waiting for an answer.

“Pesticide-free, organically grown crops and vegetables.”

Her eyes narrowed as she thought about it. “That’s true, but what of it?”

“You might take that for granted out here. I’m sure Jonas has been making a practice of it so long that he thinks of it as completely normal, but it’s not. Organically grown produce, grown with no synthetic fertilizers and no pesticides, needs to meet standards set by the government. If Jonas’s crops meet those standards, he can label and sell his produce as organically grown.”

“So what?” Gandy was a hard sell, that was for sure.

“If Jonas could meet the qualifications and find a market for what he grows, he’d earn some decent money. Until then, he should bill himself as a chemical-free producer and consider participating in farmers’ markets in the area—or start one himself.”

“What’s the big deal with that?” Gandy was losing interest. She started to shuffle papers around on her desk.

“People are willing to pay much more for food that is organically grown.”

That caught her attention. “Here? I’m not so sure about that.”

“But where I come from they do.”

“But he’s here and they’re there.”

“Then he will have to find a way to sell his product to a wider market. It would take some research and some solid business advice.”

Then Alex told her about the woman he’d met in Red’s, and the conversation they’d had about a farmers’ market and the message he’d left for her brother.

She stirred the cup of tea on her desk. “Jonas really respects Mark Nash. Mark’s got a good business head. Maybe he could talk to Mark and get some advice.”

“Perfect!”

She studied him intently, her pale eyes filling with tears. “You really care, don’t you?”

“Yes, Gandy, I really do. I want your brother and every other person in this community to thrive. In my business, their souls will always come first, but their success and happiness is a close second.”

Her eyes narrowed again, and Alex could almost hear the wheels turning under that mop of blond hair. “Who did you say you met at Red’s? The woman who was interested in a farmers’ market?”

“I’m not sure if I remember her name correctly, Lolly something, but she was tall and had white-blond hair. She looked very Scandinavian.”

“Lolly Roscoe?”

“Probably. I knew hers was an unusual name, but I must admit I had my mind on Jonas at the moment.”

“Lolly is hard to miss,” Gandy said dryly. “A lot of people think she’s beautiful.”

“She’s very nice looking, I’m sure, but I had my mind on other things.”

“She’s single, you know.” Gandy appeared to think this was monumental information.

Alex didn’t know quite how to respond. “I see.”

“And she’s been single a long time. She’s been engaged a time or two, but it didn’t work out.”

“I see.”

“What is it you see, Reverend? That you just stumbled upon a beautiful single woman who wants you to help her start a farmers’ market? Seems to me that you don’t see at all. In fact, you’re plumb blind to what’s right in front of you!”

He didn’t like the direction this was going, so he decided to change it. “Lolly is a very unusual name. Where did it come from?”

“There’s a story about that.”

“There’s a story about everything around here.” Alex poured coffee into a mug and prepared to listen.

“Lolly’s mother wanted to name her something pretty. She read in a book that another name for Charlotte was Loleta. The trouble is, the nurse misspelled the name on the birth certificate and it came out as Lolita.”

“How unfortunate.”

“Exactly. Her mother was upset, but decided to make lemonade out of this particular lemon, and she’s been Lolly ever since.”

Alex was at a loss for words.

“Word has it that she’d like to get married. She’s not getting any younger, you know.” She looked him up and down in that disconcerting way she had. “Neither are you.”

“I don’t exactly have one foot in the grave!” he protested.

“No, not yet. But you’d better watch out. One day you’ll wake up and realize you’re old and alone and wonder where the time went.” Gandy tapped her temple with her forefinger. “You have to watch out for these things, you know. It happened to Walter Englund and it will happen to you.”

Here it was, another of Gandy’s mercurial leaps from one subject to another. Alex was going to be a mental gymnast by the time she got done with him. He had to admit, however, that he enjoyed talking with Gandy immensely. She didn’t mind saying exactly what was on her mind even if he was her pastor. It was enormously refreshing.

“Walter is a good man, but terribly shy. He would have made a wonderful father, but he was too bashful to ask a woman out on a date. And now he’s in his sixties and alone, without anybody in the world.” She furrowed her brows. “Don’t you go doing the same thing.”

“I’ll remember that.” He had an uncomfortable vision of being whisked down the aisle to the altar with Gandy on one side and Lolly on the other. “It just might be, however, that what I’m looking for in a wife is different from what you imagine for me.”

“Just don’t get too fussy.” She waggled a finger at him. “Remember, ‘he who hesitates is lost.’ Is that quotation from Scripture? Proverbs, maybe?”

“It’s an American proverb. Or maybe it originated on the front of a T-shirt.”

“Oh.” Gandy was undaunted. “All I’m saying is, if love slams you in the face, don’t slap it away.” She smiled proudly. “And that is a Gandy Dunn quote. Feel free to use it whenever you wish.”

Alex was relieved to hear footsteps outside. It was Mattie Olsen, marching in with the same determination she’d had the first time he’d met her when she was on her mission to destroy the ant population of Hilltop Township. Her square jaw was set, her beady eyes flashed with fire and her footsteps sounded like a soldier marching in heavy boots. What had she run into this time? Wasps?

“I have just heard the worst possible news! I don’t know what those two young people are thinking. It’s practically a historical monument, at least around Hilltop. Desecration! That’s what it is, defilement!”

She was certainly given toward melodramatics, Alex mused. What had happened now? The way she was talking, someone might have just torn down the Statue of Liberty. But there was hardly an equivalent to that in Hilltop. Was there?

“What are you jabbering about, Mattie?” Gandy got up and poured the little woman a cup of coffee. Then she dug in her drawer for a Nut Goodie, a candy, Alex had discovered, that was available primarily in the Midwest.

“Ben and Nancy Jenkins, that’s who. I was in town today for a new perm”—she patted the tight ringlets haloing her head—“and I heard from the beauty operator who’d heard from one of her clients who’d been at the lumberyard and overheard the young Jenkins couple discussing tearing down the Hubbard house and building a rambler in its place! A plain old ranch-style house in place of that mansion? My source also said they’d visited the bank, possibly to discuss a loan.”

Her source? Mattie was obviously well connected in the grapevine.

“Can you imagine?” Mattie was warming up to enjoy her rant. “That house is homage to the people who settled here, a tribute to show what people can do. The Hubbards came here penniless, worked the land, made good, and built that lovely home; and now some great-great-grandchild wants to tear it down? Sacrilege, I say, disrespect!” She spun on her toes and faced Alex. “What are we going to do about it?”

He must have looked like a trout out of water, working his lips and trying to catch a breath, Alex thought. We? When had saving houses become his responsibility?

“Tear the house down?” Mattie snorted. “Why, that house has been a landmark here for decades. What could those children be thinking?”

Who knew, Alex thought; but he put Nancy and Ben at the top of his visitation list. Next time Mattie asked that question, perhaps he’d have an answer.