Earthly Vows by Patricia Hickman Page A

You never did fit the bill for a small-town preacher’s wife.”
    “I liked you better asleep.”
    “Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Jeb.
    “Not that I ever saw you as a preacher’s wife either,” said Donna.
    They drove past several little towns. Around noon, a red-and-blue light flashed ahead, an advertisement for hot-plate specials
     from inside a diner window. Jeb offered to buy Donna’s lunch, obliged to an ally.

    Myrna called the Welby children and Claudia and her brood in for a noontime meal. Abigail took her meal in her room. That
     troubled Angel a tad. She hoped that with Claudia’s family showing up, that they weren’t wearing out their welcome. “Is Miz
     Abigail feeling poorly?” she asked Myrna.
    “Oh, she is fine, girl, don’t trouble over it. Sometimes since Mr. Coulter passed, she likes to take her meal in her bedroom.
     She and Mr. Coulter used to take tea out on the patio outside her room. Wouldn’t surprise me if she sits out there to think
     about those times.”
    The table was set up family-style with bowls of vegetables set in the table’s middle section. Myrna made beans with ham and
     fried potatoes. She added two leaves to the table after Claudia showed up. Ida May carried a large bottle of ketchup to the
     table. She had been running errands all morning for Myrna in the same manner she had for either Angel or Fern back in Nazareth.
     Myrna took to Ida May as affectionately as all of the other women at Church in the Dell.
    Willie and Darrell, Fern’s young nephew, came inside panting, their faces gleaming with sweat. They ran hoops all morning
     down the hill from the pasture. Myrna made them remove their berets.
    Claudia sat holding Thorne as the girl wanted nothing to do with the baby chair Abigail kept for her grandchildren. John sat
     near Angel. She tied a rag around his neck and asked him if he liked potatoes.
    “Corn bread is right out of the oven and I see Ida May has put butter on the table already.” She cut the round of corn bread
     into triangles and served it on a platter. “You all can bless your food and eat,” said Myrna. She had already fixed a plate
     for herself. She excused herself from the family and carried her plate into her quarters, right outside the kitchen.
    Angel asked grace. She made Willie draw back his hand. “Hand the corn bread platter first to Claudia, Willie. Serve company
     first.”
    Claudia accepted the serving plate. She served herself and handed the platter to Ida May. Angel got up and served her sister
     with beans and potatoes, since her lap was full of Thorne. Claudia smelled the food, her eyes closed. “I haven’t seen potatoes
     in years. Nor ham in the beans, nor piccalilli relish, nor onion slice.” She blew on a piece of potato, dipped it in ketchup,
     and held it in front of Thorne’s mouth. “You’ve done good by your brother and sister, Angel. I couldn’t have done no better.
     Fact is, I probably wouldn’t have done near as good.”
    “It’s because of Jeb and Miss Fern.”
    “And the good people at Church in the Dell,” said Willie. He waited for the bread platter to return from around the table.
     He forked corn bread onto his plate. “Everybody gives up a little of what they have and it ends up enough.”
    Darrell watched Willie shovel potatoes into his mouth. His laughter dribbled out of him, a nervous squeal.
    “Truth is, Bo had a good job. We had enough, more than some, maybe not as much as others. But what he didn’t drink up, he
     gambled away.” Angel gave another cooled potato cube to John. “In spite of that, I never thought he’d be the type to up and
     leave,” said Claudia. “Granny told me once that she saw meanness in Bo’s eyes. It took some time to see things as she saw
     them, but she was right.”
    Angel buttered her bread and broke off a corner for John. “What are you going to do, Claudia, get a job?”
    “How am I going to do that? I can’t leave these two behind.”
    “Bo