Several others added their pleading.
“I don’t play—” His protest was cut off by Mrs. Timms.
“Music always speaks right to my soul. Please.”
Evie’s heart wrung out like a wet dishcloth with the newfound knowledge of how much Mrs. Timms missed her husband after all these years.
Seth gulped and slowly lowered his chin. He must have felt the burden of Mrs. Timms’s sorrow.
Evie took it as a sign that he was willing to try. She paced down the aisle and stood close—only a guitar width away from him. He was warm and clammy and nervous. He reached for the guitar, his eyes never meeting hers.
What had she done?
“Just play your love for Jesus. Play for Him,” she whispered. If he could do that—if he could not worry about the people in the room—then his music would touch their hearts. She knew it.
Retaking her seat in the back was difficult. She wanted so much to be up front. But she didn’t want to leave Terri alone. And she wanted to watch people’s reaction as Seth played.
He swung the strap over his shoulder and plucked a few strings before closing his eyes and dropping his head as if he were in prayer. Perhaps he was. Evie offered up her own pleadings on his behalf.Please, God, give him strength beyond his own.
A few tentative notes stumbled out. Seth stopped and swiped the back of his arm across his forehead before repositioning his fingers. He began to play “Down to the River.”
Someone started to hum along with the tune, and a minute later, several others joined in.
Once he’d been through a verse and a chorus, Seth barely whispered the words. “When I go down to the river to pray …” He didn’t glance up, keeping his eyes on his fingers even though he could play this song blindfolded. She’d heard him strum it several times as he’d looked over books or even paced through the house.
As his voice grew in confidence, the humming stopped. Evie glanced around. Several people had their eyes closed. A few rocked to the slow beat. Mrs. Timms had tears falling down her cheeks, which she dabbed at with a white handkerchief.
When he finished that song, Seth went right into “How Great Thou Art.” Evie leaned back in her seat and let herself be taken away on the tide of notes, swells, and Seth’s voice that echoed the beliefs of her innermost heart.
When he finished, five minutes after the hour, and offered the closing prayer, there was a spirit in the room of reverence and love and trust. He had a gift. What better sermon about letting your light shine and using your talents to advance God’s work than what he’d done today?
She was so proud of him, it just might be a sin.
Evie reached Seth at the same time Mrs. Timms did. The woman’s eyes glowed as she gripped his forearm. “You didn’t know it, but today would have been my fifty-fifth wedding anniversary. I came here missing Paul something fierce. But your music filled the ache in my chest and told me God is with me. Thank you, young man. Thank you.” She patted his arm. With a small smile for Evie, she shuffled down the aisle, pausing to nod to Terri, who sat in the back, her head down.
Evie threw her arms around Seth’s neck and held him tight. She was so caught up in the feelings inside of her that it took her a moment to notice he wasn’t hugging her back. She stepped away and gazed into his eyes, ready to bask in the glory of being what God intended. Instead, she found turmoil and disappointment. “What is it?” she asked.
Seth set his jaw. “Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”
“But—” All the thoughts and words she’d been feeling logjammed in her head, and she couldn’t get her tongue to move quick enough to express them.
He handed her the guitar. “Please … just put it away.”
His flat answer had a note of finality that she couldn’t find an argument before. When she turned, the Henderson family was right behind her. The way they averted their eyes told her that they’d heard the conversation and were uncomfortable because of the conflict that now sat firmly between her and Seth.
She forced a smile. “Tosha, that’s a beautiful dress. Is it new?”
Tosha nodded, her gaze darting back and forth between her and Seth.
“I’m just going to put this away. Have a wonderful Sunday afternoon.” Even to her, her voice was too high-pitched, too forced. She set her sights on the door.
“That was some mighty nice singing, Preacher,” Mr. Henderson said to Seth.
Evie tried to listen as she moved away, but Seth’s reply was lost in the after-meeting shuffle.
Terri stood up as she came by. “I’m going home.”
Evie stopped in her hurry to get the guitar back to the office. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll drive us over to the—to see Scott?”
