The Widow of Saunders Creek Read Online Free PDF Page A

“I’d forgotten about that. He called you parson, like an old-time preacher.”
    “Yeah, no respect for the cloth.”
    She grinned. “Seriously, though. If you went through all the years of seminary, then why did you go into contracting?”
    The truth was, I’d been given the opportunity to preach in large churches, in small churches, and as part of missionary programs, but my heart was here, in the Ozarks. I’d never be happy anywhere else, and unless I felt strongly that God was leading me, I’d never leave these hills. “I can’t leave my mom alone, for one thing,” I said, which, of course, was the short answer. “I do preach, though. I pastor a very small rural church just down the road.”
    Her eyebrows went up above the rim of the glasses. “I didn’t know that. I’ll have to come and hear you. I guess I especially need to after last night’s drunken pity party.” She laughed. “But I guess God understands, huh?”
    I gave her a wry sort of smile and shrugged. “I personally think God’s grace is all over situations like the one you are in. But given the choice, He would much rather you turn to Him for comfort than anything else.”
    Her face grew a little red, and I felt bad. I hadn’t meant to shame her.
    Corrie nudged me and looked toward the direction I’d indicated for the camp. “So, this camp of yours,” she said. “How long does it run?”
    Relieved to change the subject, I dove into the new topic. “Six weeks. Different age groups, one week at a time. It’ll take most of my spare time between now and mid-June to get things ready.”
    The wind picked up a little again, and a cool pocket of air floated up from the creek. She grew quiet. I respected the silence and kept quiet too.
    She nudged me. “Hey, Eli?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Is there a store close by that sells porch swing cushions?”
    Okay, so we were going to completely change topics. That was okay. I respected that too. “Lowe’s down in Springfield, I imagine.”
    “Well, I need to get some. This wood swing might look pretty, but it’s too hard. My behind is protesting.”
    I chuckled because, now that I thought about it, I reckoned she was right.
    “Can you drive me in?” she asked.
    “You mean now?”
    “I’d have to stick my hair up in a clip and put on some mascara, but yeah, since we’re not working on the bathroom anyway.” She paused. “Unless you have someplace else you need to be?”
    “Nope. I’m just surprised you feel like making a trip to anywhere but bed.”
    “I’m feeling a little better, and I’m afraid if I go to bed now I’ll be up all night. I’d rather not get my days and nights mixed up. With remodeling going on in my house, I’ll never get any sleep.” She shruggedand looked up at me. “But I could probably drive myself if you don’t want to go.”
    I waved aside her comment. “It’s okay. I could use a couple of things from there anyway. So it’ll kill two birds with one stone.”
    “Okay, thanks.” She stood, clutching the light blanket around her. “Be back in a sec.” She slid the sunglasses from her face and handed them to me. “Thanks for these. I have some inside.”
    Her eyes were starting to lose that dull, pain-filled look, and I could see a little of the spark I admired.
    The door slammed hard behind her, and I heard her gasp.
    I stood and got to her as fast as my limp allowed. “You okay?” I asked. I decided not to remind her that the frame on the screen was fragile.
    “Yeah, the slam just surprised me. I didn’t realize it was so windy.”
    I knew then that the door hadn’t slammed itself, and she hadn’t slammed it either.
    A frown crossed her features, and she looked out at the tree line, presumably looking to see branches swaying—but they were still. “It’s really not windy, is it? Sheesh. I best be more careful.” She shrugged. “Be right back.”
    I hated to acknowledge what had slammed the door and turned over my thermos earlier today. Half the