Three women approached him together, their smiles as big as half-moons, their eyes gleaming with undisguised interest. All three had their hair done up in braids that wrapped around the tops of their heads like crowns. Their plaid dresses had that hand-sewn look. Nothing wrong with that, but the ill-fitting garments clung to their rotund frames in a none-too-flattering way.
“Morning, ladies,” Lucas greeted them. “Nice to see you in church today.”
They all beamed, the plumpest of the three revealing a large gap between her top front teeth. She snatched his hand and refused to let it go, propelling it up and down like she would a pump handle—and, from the strength of her handshake, he suspected she was used to operating one. “What a fine sermon, Reverend Jennings. Me and m’ sisters been meanin’ t’ come visit y’r church ever since we heard about y—”
The sister standing closer to her elbowed her with gusto, knocking her off balance.
“What she means t’ say is, we heard you was a mighty fine speaker, so we thought we’d come hear f’r ourselves, and I’ll say this—folks sure was right…about your preachin’, that is.”
Lucas forced a polite smile. “Why, thank you kindly.”
“We’re the Harding sisters. You mighta heard of us,” said the third. “We live a fair piece from here, but the drive over didn’t bother us none.”
Lucas had no idea why he might have heard of them, but he let the remark pass. He managed to wrench free of the biggest woman’s clutch, then clasped his hands behind him and dipped his head. “Mighty nice to meet you, uh,…”
“Oh, forgive ar manners, Reverend. I’m Erlene,” said the one with the firm handshake. She nodded to her left. “This here’s Elaine.” And to her right, she gestured at the third. “And this is Arlene.”
Erlene, Elaine, and Arlene. Nice. Lucas would never remember who was who, but then, perhaps he wouldn’t need to, if they didn’t return. He judged them all to be close in age, probably in their mid- to late thirties. “Well, I thank you ladies for making the drive out. Mighty nice meeting you.” Out of sheer politeness, he focused on the folks next in line, Mr. and Mrs. Milford, and then the Bransons and the Shelhamers. In due time, the sisters made their way to the door, a few thoughtful parishioners greeting them on their way out and inviting them back.
He couldn’t help but hope he’d seen the last of the Harding sisters, much as he knew it wrong to think ill of them. Lord, he wondered, will this weekly parade of women ever slow down? But, even as he silently asked the question, he spotted yet two more women he’d never seen before, standing at the end of the procession, no doubt hanging back so as to be assured of gaining his full attention.
“Fine sermon, Reverend Jennings.” This from Sam Connors, the local blacksmith. His pretty wife, Mercy, stood next to him, an arm around each of their two boys. By the look of her midsection, she would spit out a baby most any day, not that he knew anything about the birthing process. He liked the couple and had enjoyed himself the times they’d invited him over for Sunday supper. What he wouldn’t give for a handsome family like theirs. Truly, the Lord had blessed them.
Could Kate Ryerson be the woman God had set aside for him? She seemed to have it all—faith, values, eloquence, and a love for God…all qualities any preacher would deem beneficial in a wife. And they did enjoy each other’s company, laughing at many of the same things as they took the occasional evening stroll in her neighborhood. One thing lacked, however, and it had been just this morning, while he got ready for church, that he’d identified what that was: love. He liked her plenty, but he wasn’t in love with her…not yet, anyway. They’d shared a few kisses, but each of them had left him dissatisfied. Perhaps the Lord would see to it that his feelings for her increased. He knew that she had strong feelings for him, the way she’d started hinting at marriage after a mere handful of dates.
“We’d love to have you over for supper again,” said Mercy, dragging Lucas back to the present. He berated himself for dwelling on other matters when a line of congregants were still waiting to shake his hand.
“That would be wonderful, but I’m the one who should be inviting you.” He wasn’t sure why he’d said that. No way could he prepare a meal for an entire family. It was hard enough frying up an egg for one.
“No need to return any favors.” She gave her rounded belly a circular rub. “I’m always making more than our family can eat, anyway. One of these days, I’ll send Sam over with a spur-of-the-moment invite.”
“I’m all for spontaneity.”
After a bit more conversation, the family bade him good-bye. Soon, the line dwindled, until all that remained were Lucas and the two women visitors.
“Hello, Reverend,” the shorter one cooed. She batted her long eyelashes and tossed back her curled locks with a whisk of her manicured hand. “Let me introduce myself.”
Come, Lord Jesus. Come quickly.
Heart of Mercy (Tennessee Dreams) Page 33