“Um, hello? Children are full of bodily fluids.”
“Okay, ew.” Evie hesitated. She reread the ad. “He sounds like a good guy.”
“Ooh, so it’s a rebound thing.” Maisie perched herself on the desk, crossed her legs, and squared her shoulders. “Let me tell you how rebounds are supposed to work. You put on a black dress and make out with a hot stranger. Then you move on. But what you don’t do—what no one has ever done in the history of rebounds and had it turn out good—is get mar-ried.” She drew out the last word, enunciating both syllables.
“So here’s the thing.” Evie leaned back in her chair and gave her bestie a let-met-tell-you-something cock of her head. “I’m not the average woman. I don’t do rebound make-out sessions. It took a lot for me to kiss Owen on the third date. I move slow.”
“Yeah, but are you willing to spend a life stuck in platonic?”
Evie thought about it. While other women talked about how much they craved their men, she’d never had those … stirrings. Not deep enough that they took control of her rational thought. “I think I’ll be fine with that.”
“Ugh! You’re the only person I’ve met who might actually make it as a nun.”
Evie laughed. “I’m not catholic.”
“You should be,” Maisie called over her shoulder as she went back to her cubicle. A moment later, a huff of frustration sounded as Maisie landed in her chair.
Evie read through the ad once more, taking into account that advertising for a wife was a strange thing to do. What kind of a man did that? A man who was desperate, for sure. But desperation came in so many different layers.
When it came down to making the decision, she put her trust in God. Closing her eyes, she calmed her mind and felt with her heart. It felt right.
She typed a note to the mysterious man and sent it off, leaving the outcome up to the Lord.
Chapter Two
Seth
Pastor Seth Powell settled into a seat in front of the church board. Having their chairs in a half circle and him in the middle felt more like a witch trial than an interview. He wished they’d change the seating and tugged at his collar as he looked around.
There were a half dozen folding tables leaned up against one wall, and there was a stack of chairs. The space would make a great teen room. From what he’d seen online and gathered from his first interview over the phone, the ministry didn’t have a teen service group, or even a tutoring program after school.
“I’m afraid we have some concerns,” said Mr. White, the head of the church board. He had one ankle resting on the opposite knee and leaned back in his chair. His whole demeanor said,I’m in charge. “You’re young for a position like this. How is a twenty-five-year-old going to counsel our congregation who have decades of life experience on him?”
Seth glanced at the other four members of the board. The two men wore pants with the belts practically up to their armpits, and the women were dressed smartly in skirts and matching jackets. They were all over sixty and were unimpressed with his top grades in seminary. Other pastors had diplomas and years of experience. However, the Life of Grace Ministry was struggling and didn’t have a large salary to offer a pastor. So they’d attracted younger applicants who were willing to put in the work to build a career and a following. He knew getting this position was a long shot, but the Lord specialized in championing underdogs like Moses and David, so he’d moved forward with faith and prayed that the miracle would come soon.
“Well, sir, it’s not really me people want advice from, is it? It’s the Lord. I would refer them to the Bible and passages I’d feel impressed to share and encourage them to seek guidance by the Holy Spirit.”
The group exchanged looks. Mrs. Miller scratched a few lines on the pad of paper in her lap. Her blond hair moved about as if it were a helmet on her head. She also had the kindest blue eyes he’d ever seen—eyes that had snuck a look at Mr. White that had nothing to do with church business. Neither of them wore a wedding ring, so Seth was left to wonder if they had something going on or if Mrs. Miller was the only one looking.
“Our other concern is that you are unmarried,” Mr. Green blurted out. He spoke as if talking to a line of troops, his words choppy and brokering no argument.
Seth shifted. “That’s a major concern of mine as well.” He smiled to let them know he was joking.
Mrs. Miller twittered, quickly covering her mouth.
Mr. Green chuckled and then coughed to cover it up. He slouched in his chair—as if he was made to be here and wasn’t sure if he wanted to be or not.
“You mentioned as much in my first interview. I assure you, I’m currently working on a solution to that very problem,” Seth expounded, praying they wouldn’t ask for proof, because his ad in The Matchmaker hadn’t brought forth any fruit. “These things take time.”
He’d done his best to tell the truth without actually saying that he’d placed an ad in the newspaper for a wife. It was crazy and out of character for him, but he couldn’t get the ad he’d seen several months ago out of his mind. When he’d finally given in to the constant pressure from the Lord to place one of his own and sat down to write, it flowed out of him with such ease that he was shocked.
He looked around the room again. The windows let in a brilliant display of light. He could practically feel the energy of a dozen kids working on homework, playing board games, and listening to music. “Why don’t you have a youth group?” he asked.
Mr. Green squinted. “Because we don’t have any youth.”
“Now, John.” His wife, Matilda, placed a hand on his knee. “We have the Henderson girl.”
“So we’re supposed to put together a whole program for one kid?”
