“So Hazel might be gettin’ a cousin soon?” Rhett asked.
Thoughts of June rushed through me—June asking me to put a baby in her, picking out wallpaper for the nursery as if the decision was already made. Rhett must have recognized the look on my face, because he laughed softly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You can take it as awe’ll see,” I said. “Not gettin’ my hopes up.”
Rhett peered at me, cocking his head to one side. Hazel started to snore, little fingers curled in his t-shirt.
“I think you’ve earned the right to get your hopes up at this point, Silas,” he said. “Spent long enough thinkin’ nothin’ would go right for you…take the blessings you have, little brother.”
I swallowed hard, looking back toward the garden—toward the woods, past Willow.
Rhett was right.
I’d spent years clinging to my pain, living in that haunted church like I was just waiting for Amelia to come back and tell me I could rest. And then…she showed up. She brought me June.
And now June was in my bed, inour house, humming old hymns and writing her own story. She wasn’t here to save me necessarily…she was here because she wanted to be.
But that in itself was a blessing.
Willow stood up and brushed off her overalls, grinning from across the garden when she saw me. Shewaved, and when I looked at Rhett, I could see the deep and abiding love etched in every line of his face as he looked at his wife.
“We are some real lucky men,” he said.
And for the first time in years, I believed it.
CHAPTER 25
June
It had been a beautiful,sunny day when I’d walked into Loretta Evers’s house—but by the time I left, it was dark, gloomy, and above all,wet.
And not in a fun way.
The weather made it hard to get all the donations the ladies had collected for the church inside—particularly alone—but I wasn’t going to interrupt Silas’s afternoon with his brother just because I thought it would take a couple extra trips in and out of the church in the rain. I could handle soggy sneakers and socks; after all, I had a hot bath with the man I loved to look forward to on the other side of it.
The church—which we’d decided to start calling the All Souls Fellowship, already beginning the work of rechristening it—was quiet and serene on rainy days. We hadn’t had too many of them through the hot Georgia summer, but they were coming more often now that fall was on its way…and there was something magic about it. I shouldered the double doors open and carried a box of new and improved hymnals through into the sanctuary, the stained glass painting the whole room in moving streams of color.
No one here…just me and God.
The box was heavier than it looked, as boxes full of books so often are. I set it down gently on the front pew, then took a minute to breathe, looking around. This place…we’d already done so much to change it, to transform it into a home for the strange, wonderful people of Willow Grove. I didn’t expect everyone to start showing up for Sunday services or anything, but we were getting close?—
My breath caught in the middle of a thought.
I frowned, tuning into the creeping sensation crawling up my spine. The church was safe…I knew it was safe. But something was off.
Very, very off.
I straightened up, pushing damp hair off my forehead, just…listening. The rain was loud enough that I couldn’t hear much beyond the patter on the windows, the occasional rumble of distant thunder. I slowly turned my head to the left, then to the right, sweeping my gaze over the sanctuary.
No…something was definitely wrong.
We hadn’t heard a peep from Abel Trent and his goons since they’d shown up here for our potluck, but that didn’t mean they were gone. We were still getting regular updates from the local sheriff—they were looking into it, keeping an eye on them. Silas was more concerned than I was, but I was fully convinced we had an angel on our side, so I’d stopped worrying for the most part.
And speaking of which…
I saw a glimpse of white, fingertips curling around the threshold to the hallway that would take me to the parsonage.
