Stirring Up Strife (2010) Read Online Free PDF Page A

clapboard structures of country churches, the pealing of bells at every hour, and the captivating stained-glass windows to gaze upon should the sermon become a tad too lulling. Hope Street was an impressive brick building whose cornerstone was placed over one hundred years ago. The original chapel had been expended after World War I and a roomy wing had been built in the early eighties for the Hope Street Christian Academy.
     
Daydreaming students on the north side of the building were treated to the view of the church's lush garden, while those on the south side were stuck staring at the vast parking lot. When the bells called people to worship, the sound was like that of a symphony. The powerful melody carried far across the rooftops of the local subdivisions.
     
"This is some church," Cooper muttered to herself and looked around the deserted hallway. She noticed a bulletin board for Students Against Drunk Driving and a sign-up sheet for prom queen nominations. "I am so glad to be out of high school. I don't think I could survive it nowadays." Cooper tapped the bulletin board and listened to the sound echo around her. Where was everyone? She glanced at her watch. It was almost nine. Didn't the service start at nine? Which hallway would take her to the chapel?
     
Aware of the noisy clip-clop of her only pair of heels, which had lain dormant in the far reaches of her closet since the office Christmas party, Cooper made an attempt to walk on the balls of her feet. Tiptoeing, she glanced down every hall she passed, but didn't see another human being until she ran smack into a long torso clad in a blue-and-yellow-checked button-down.
     
"Sorry!" said a baritone voice somewhere well above her height of five foot six. After collecting herself, Cooper scrutinized the face of the very tall form she had collided with. She saw a pair of friendly brown eyes and a slightly bashful but kind smile. It was a pleasant face all around, though rather high in the forehead and sharp in the chin.
     
"Are you new to Hope Street?" the man asked softly, coming a step closer.
     
Cooper nodded. "Yes, and I'm totally lost." She laughed nervously. "This wing is like a rabbit warren, only I think their burrows smell less like Lysol."
     
The man's grin widened. "Come on, I'll show you where to go. I'm Nathan Dexter, by the way."
     
Pleased that she had an escort to the service, Cooper replied, "Nice to meet you. I'm Cooper."
     
"That's an unusual name for a woman," Nathan commented as they shook hands. "Must have been a barrel maker somewhere in your family history," he said as though the idea was fascinating. "I really like names that repeat in one family. Guess I admire the cyclical nature of old names. It's sort of a way of uniting people from different generations, you know?" He cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed. "That's my backward way of saying I think your name is cool."
     
"Thanks." No one had ever complimented Cooper on her name before. "It was my great-grandfather's. And you're right, he was named after his aunt--her last name was Cooper--and her father was a barrel maker. She didn't make any barrels, but she filled a lot of them with whiskey and dill pickles."
     
"Two of my favorites." Nathan grinned. "And don't be too impressed with my attempt at intelligence. I'm just a computer geek who likes crossword puzzles, so I've got my nose stuck in a dictionary a lot." He shrugged his shoulders and Cooper half-expected them to touch one of the exit signs. "We're in here, to your left."
     
Cooper hesitated for a moment, as the doorway appeared to lead into a classroom, not a chapel. She could hear the murmur of several voices, but not the rumble of dozens and dozens of parishioners getting settled for service. What was going on? With Nathan right on her heels and closing fast, she had no other choice but to enter.
     
All chatting ceased as soon as Cooper stepped through the threshold. Four people were seated in a circle, their