Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Elizabeth headed downstairs, wondering if Pops would stop at Java Jane’s for a latte and egg sandwich on the way to church.
In the kitchen, Granny handed her a banana and said they were late.
“So, no Java Jane’s?” Elizabeth said.
“Not before. After. I have a roast in the oven for lunch.” And Granny was out the door after Pops, who wore black slacks with a blue shirt, his gray hair still thick and shiny. He’d been CEO of Dorsey Furniture until her cousin Will took the helm. But not before Pops brought the organization into the twenty-first century, even establishing an early partnership with the likes of Amazon.
Elizabeth planned to pick his brain before the end of summer. There’s a thought—maybe attending church while waiting for the most important notification of her life had benefits. Like a smile from the Man upstairs. She decided to mention it to Him when the pastor had everyone bow their heads and close their eyes.
“Jeff said he saw Ryder Donovan at Ella’s the other night.” Pops glanced at Elizabeth through the rearview mirror as they passed the downtown shops and Java Jane’s. “What was that about?”
“About Jeff making something out of nothing,” Elizabeth said. “Ryder needed to order some kids’ chicken baskets. That’s all. He teaches fire safety or something.”
“At the Kids Theater,” Pops said. “I hear his boss is giving him a hard time. Travis can be a son of a gun.”
“He mentioned the department isn’t willing to pay for the baskets.”
“Sounds like true love to me,” Pops said with a low chuckle.
“Please, Pops, you’re ridiculous.” Still, their brief exchange outside of the diner popped into her head at odd times during the week. Staff meeting. Working the window at Ella’s. Driving home. Now, while driving to church.
She couldn’t remember when she met him. Ryder was always a part of her summer landscape. She’d friended him on Facebook and Instagram, but he rarely posted. Not much more than an annual photo of him fishing or hunting.
“I can still see you waiting in the living room for him to pick you up for youth group.” A grinning Granny looked back at Elizabeth. “You always looked so pretty.”
“Well, I didn’t want to look ugly.” Youth group? She’d forgotten all about it. Those had been fun Sunday nights.
Pops turned into the church parking lot, and Elizabeth followed her grandparents toward the double doors and into the sanctuary, smiling and shaking hands as Granny said, “This is our granddaughter, Beth. Matt Jr.’s daughter. You remember her from working at Ella’s in the summer.”
Then there was the whole Dorsey crew to embrace: Ethan and his wife Julie; Will, handsome and single; Jeff and his girlfriend Ursula; Uncle Mac and Aunt Shell; Uncle Luke and Aunt Reece.
“We’ve got seats saved up front.” Jeff hooked his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder. “How’d it go with Ryder?”
“How’d it go? He ordered kids’ chicken baskets. End of story.” She chose the last seat in the family row, just in case she felt like leaving early. The hallowed atmosphere felt strange to her. She preferred the hallowed halls of a university. That was her sanctuary.
As the rows filled up, she tried to remember if she’d enjoyed church as a teen. She had. Maybe? A few of Granny and Pops’s friends recognized her and stopped to say hello. Then just as she started to relax, a masculine voice whispered over her shoulder.
“Is this seat taken?”
Finding Elizabeth in church was even more of a surprise than finding himself waking up early with a hankering for a holy place. Travis had been on him all week. Not just about expenses, but everything.
Did you get the brush cleared off Bramble Road?
I’ve not seen your environmental report. Are you going to do your job or not, Donovan?
Had the man hired him as some sort of scapegoat? Ryder worked late only to wake up early. He’d spent most of last week collecting soil samples and planting seedling trees, checking the lake and the docks. But he didn’t mind. The forest was his sanctuary. His home. Yet this morning, he sensed a nudge toward the sanctuary of saints.
Then he saw Elizabeth and stopped mulling over how much he’d rather be in his kitchen stirring up homemade waffles with crushed pecans.
When he sat down, a soft note of her scent pulled him toward her. He tried to focus on the singing and preaching, but all he wanted to do was face Elizabeth, talk to her, reach for her, and step in close. Then, as the pastor finished up his message, he invited everyone to stand—God bless him—and hold hands.
Ryder looked at Elizabeth. She peeked at him. He offered his left hand while Jeff’s girlfriend took his right. Elizabeth’s soft palm slipped into his as the pastor prayed something about walking in the law of love instead of love of the law, but the drum of his pulse muted every other word. On the amen, Ursula let go, but Elizabeth held on for an extra moment or two. Or was he holding on to her?
“How were your chicken baskets?” she said, finally dropping his hand.
“The kids loved them.”
“And learned only they could prevent forest fires.”
