the board and tell everyone you’re going to volunteer for some community organizations. And as part of that, you can ask Betty if you might volunteer to help her for, say, ten hours in her shop every week. I’m sure she’d welcome the extra pair of hands. But you’ll need to talk to her about it and make sure. That is, after you apologize to her directly.”
Valerie stiffened but nodded. “All right,” she said. She looked like she was going to go, but then paused.
“There’s something else you should know,” she said, picking nervously at the skin around her thumb. “I changed this morning’s bulletin. I took out the part about the church partnering with Betty.”
“You what?”
“You’ll have to announce it from the pulpit. I’m sorry, Randall. I’ve acted selfishly and stupidly. I’ll tell Betty the truth about what I’ve done. I promise. I’ll take full responsibility.”
There was a shuffling behind them, and they turned to see Celia in the doorway, pointing at her watch. “T-minus two minutes, Pastor,” she said. “The sanctuary is nearly full.”
He glanced at Valerie, whose face was streaked with fresh tears.
“Any chance you forgot to put out the bulletins?” he asked his secretary.
Celia raised her brows. “Of course not. Why do you ask?”
For once, he wished his secretary wasn’t so competent. “No reason,” he said, wincing inwardly. What would Betty think when she sat down and saw the blank space where their partnership was supposed to be? She would think the deal had been revoked, and that “taking things slowly” was code for him not caring for her or her business.
That is, if she didn’t think that way already.
“Sorry again,” Valerie whispered, and turned to go. Celia followed her. Randall glanced furtively at the clock. One minute until he was going to stand in front of his entire congregation and he had nothing prepared. Not a single thing.
But maybe Valerie had given him more than just an apology.
If he thought about it, she may have just handed him the boldest, most daring sermon of his life.
He took a breath, and headed for the sanctuary.
Chapter Seven
B etty was bleary-eyed from too little sleep and too much coffee in the past twenty-four hours, but that didn’t stop her from seeing if she could catch Jessie Reid before the Lutheran church service stared.
Thankfully, the girl’s 1940s up-do was as hard to miss as her sister Olive’s flaming pink pixie cut.
As she wove through the morning service crowd, trying to get to Jessie, she heard the murmurs from the congregants around her. Bits of conversation reached her ears. “Satan” and “darkness” and “not shopping there” had her skin prickling. Her face flamed. She caught Red Updike’s eye, but the old farmer glanced away quickly. Fat lot of good praying did was the vibe she got off him.
She willed herself to be strong, to not let her chin tilt anywhere but up. She vowed not to remember the way she’d glanced at the church bulletin this morning, and her body had gone cold with the realization that Randall had pulled any mention of supporting Knots and Bolts. Even in spite of the financial benefit it stood to give him.
The surprise of it had left a bitter taste in her mouth, one she was having trouble swallowing down. But swallow it she would. Because now there was no one left to tell the good people of White Pine that she didn’t pose any Satanic threat and shouldn’t be boycotted.
She had to fix this mess herself.
“Jessie,” she said, slightly out of breath as she caught up to the young woman. They both stopped next to a stained glass window depicting Jesus with a flock of lambs. “Can I speak with you for a minute?”
The young girl’s bright red lips parted in a smile. “Hi, Betty! Of course. If you’re here to ask if we made more blueberry fritters, the answer is yes. Sorry we ran out last week.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” Betty said, clutching her phone tightly, the
Valerie stiffened but nodded. “All right,” she said. She looked like she was going to go, but then paused.
“There’s something else you should know,” she said, picking nervously at the skin around her thumb. “I changed this morning’s bulletin. I took out the part about the church partnering with Betty.”
“You what?”
“You’ll have to announce it from the pulpit. I’m sorry, Randall. I’ve acted selfishly and stupidly. I’ll tell Betty the truth about what I’ve done. I promise. I’ll take full responsibility.”
There was a shuffling behind them, and they turned to see Celia in the doorway, pointing at her watch. “T-minus two minutes, Pastor,” she said. “The sanctuary is nearly full.”
He glanced at Valerie, whose face was streaked with fresh tears.
“Any chance you forgot to put out the bulletins?” he asked his secretary.
Celia raised her brows. “Of course not. Why do you ask?”
For once, he wished his secretary wasn’t so competent. “No reason,” he said, wincing inwardly. What would Betty think when she sat down and saw the blank space where their partnership was supposed to be? She would think the deal had been revoked, and that “taking things slowly” was code for him not caring for her or her business.
That is, if she didn’t think that way already.
“Sorry again,” Valerie whispered, and turned to go. Celia followed her. Randall glanced furtively at the clock. One minute until he was going to stand in front of his entire congregation and he had nothing prepared. Not a single thing.
But maybe Valerie had given him more than just an apology.
If he thought about it, she may have just handed him the boldest, most daring sermon of his life.
He took a breath, and headed for the sanctuary.
Chapter Seven
B etty was bleary-eyed from too little sleep and too much coffee in the past twenty-four hours, but that didn’t stop her from seeing if she could catch Jessie Reid before the Lutheran church service stared.
Thankfully, the girl’s 1940s up-do was as hard to miss as her sister Olive’s flaming pink pixie cut.
As she wove through the morning service crowd, trying to get to Jessie, she heard the murmurs from the congregants around her. Bits of conversation reached her ears. “Satan” and “darkness” and “not shopping there” had her skin prickling. Her face flamed. She caught Red Updike’s eye, but the old farmer glanced away quickly. Fat lot of good praying did was the vibe she got off him.
She willed herself to be strong, to not let her chin tilt anywhere but up. She vowed not to remember the way she’d glanced at the church bulletin this morning, and her body had gone cold with the realization that Randall had pulled any mention of supporting Knots and Bolts. Even in spite of the financial benefit it stood to give him.
The surprise of it had left a bitter taste in her mouth, one she was having trouble swallowing down. But swallow it she would. Because now there was no one left to tell the good people of White Pine that she didn’t pose any Satanic threat and shouldn’t be boycotted.
She had to fix this mess herself.
“Jessie,” she said, slightly out of breath as she caught up to the young woman. They both stopped next to a stained glass window depicting Jesus with a flock of lambs. “Can I speak with you for a minute?”
The young girl’s bright red lips parted in a smile. “Hi, Betty! Of course. If you’re here to ask if we made more blueberry fritters, the answer is yes. Sorry we ran out last week.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” Betty said, clutching her phone tightly, the
Similar Books
