When Mercy Rains by Kim Vogel Sawyer

distance. And what did it matter? He had a job to do—he’d best get to it. He aimed his feet for the kitchen door, but a shriek from outside changed his direction. He dashed into the yard as another shrill scream, accompanied by wild barking, pierced the air.
    He rounded the corner of the house to find the Zimmermans’ black-and-white border collie, Pepper, giving Alexa an exuberant welcome. Muddy paw prints decorated the girl’s skirt. She held her hands in the air as if under arrest while the dog joyfully leaped around her, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Although Pepper meant no harm, the girl was clearly terrified. He called out sternly, “Pepper, sit!”
    Without a moment’s pause, Pepper plopped down on her furry behind and panted up at the girl.
    Alexa gave Paul a look of pure relief as he closed the distance between them. “Thank you so much. I was afraid he’d knock me flat.”
    Paul hid a smile. He put his hand on the dog’s head. “Pepper’s really a friendly old girl. And she responds well to commands, so the next time she charges at you, just tell her to sit, and she’ll do it.” Pepper whined, wriggling in place. Paul gave her head a pat to encourage her to stay put, then he stuck out his hand. “We haven’t met. I’m Paul Aldrich.”
    “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alexa.” She gave his hand a quick, polite pump and then shot the dog a sour look. “I’m glad to know how to control that hairybeast in the future, but I’m afraid you told me too late. When she jumped on me, I dropped my locket.” Pepper followed Alexa’s movements with bright eyes as she began searching the ground. The dog poised, as if to leap.
    “Pepper, stay,” Paul said before joining Alexa in the search. He chuckled when he spotted the glint of gold in the thick grass about six feet behind her. “You didn’t just drop it—you must have launched it.” He stooped down and picked it up. Although he wasn’t an expert when it came to jewelry, he knew an antique when he saw one. The weight of the chain and its pendant spoke of solid gold, not the cheap gold-plated necklaces available today.
    He released a soft whistle as he handed it to Alexa. “I’m glad we found it. You wouldn’t want to lose that.”
    She cradled it to her chest. “No, I wouldn’t. My … grandmother gave it to me.”
    “Was it her betrothal locket?”
    The girl blinked at him, confusion marring her face. “Her what?”
    “Betrothal locket.” Obviously Suzy no longer lived the Old Order lifestyle. Her clothes, though modest, didn’t match the caped dresses worn by the women of their sect. But why hadn’t she told her daughter about their traditions? He pointed to the round pendant. “You see, when a young man in our sect wishes to become published—”
    Alexa’s brow crinkled.
    Paul added, “ ‘Published’ means becoming engaged.”
    Sincere interest replaced her expression of confusion.
    “He gives the girl a locket. If she wears it in public, then he knows she’s accepted the invitation. After the wedding the wife usually puts a picture of her husband inside. I bet if you look, you’ll find a photo of your grandfather in that one.”
    Alexa gazed down at the locket for several seconds. Then she gave him a hopeful look. “Do you know how to open it? I couldn’t find a latch.”
    He needed to return to work, but for reasons beyond his comprehension, opening the locket for Alexa took priority over cleaning up his mess in thekitchen. He held out his hand, and she slipped it into his palm. He turned the locket this way and that, seeking a means of releasing the catch, and then smiled. “Here it is. See?” He pressed a tiny knob concealed beneath the decorative link connecting the locket to the chain, and the two halves popped open as smoothly as they probably had the day it was purchased.
    Her face lit up. She took the locket and stared at the black-and-white image tucked into the bottom disc. “So that’s my