Paul ducked his head sheepishly. “Pies.”
“What?”
“I bet him one of your pies, every week for a year, that I would win without help of any kind.”
“Paul! What would you have done if you’d lost?”
“I technically did lose, since I had help. I guess I’ll either have to be real sweet to you, or I’ll have to learn how to bake a mean pie to go with my award-winning chili.”
The humor of the situation hit them both, and they burst out into peals of laughter. Well, Kate thought, perhaps they’d both learned a lesson in the past few weeks about the high cost of keeping secrets.
Paul drew her into his arms and kissed her nose. “Kate Hanlon, I think we’re made for each other.”
Kate laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. “You’re just now figuring that out, preacher? Why I’ve known that for over thirty years now.”
KATE PULLED A PIE from the oven and sat it next to the others on the countertop. The crust was almost too brown, but then the oven in the old Bixby house was older even than the one at the parsonage.
“I need more Comet.” Renee Lambert appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Mavis was a nice woman, but she didn’t clean her grout very well.”
“Check with Dot in the garage. She may have some more cleaning supplies,” Kate said.
Renee sniffed the air. “Smells good. Apple’s my favorite.”
Kate smiled and nodded at the compliment before leaning over to pull a second pie from the oven. The ladies from Betty’s Beauty Parlor hadn’t batted an eyelash when Kate asked them for help cleaning up the Bixby house. Mavis’ lawyer was drawing up the papers that would transfer ownership to the church, and in the interim, Gail Carson had handed over the keys to Kate. By the end of the day, the house that had started out as nothing more than one piece of a beauty shop tale would be clean and ready to go. But for what?
“Has the church decided yet how they’re going to use the place?” Gail had asked when she’d given Kate the keys. “If you decide to rent it, I’d be happy to take on finding a tenant and managing the property.”
“We’re still waiting for inspiration,” she replied. “But if we do decide to go that route, we’ll let you know.”
In fact, various church members—and even some folks in the community—had suggested a number of ways the house might be utilized. A teen center, since it was across the street from the high school. A day care center for older adults. A thrift shop to raise money for mission efforts. None of the suggestions, however, had been received with unqualified enthusiasm.
Later in the afternoon, the ladies drifted into the kitchen, having finished with their various tasks. Kate put on a pot of coffee, and the ladies stood around waiting for it to brew.
“Who are you baking for today?” Dot Bagley asked.
Kate had decided she might as well combine baking time with her assigned task of cleaning out Mavis’ old refrigerator. While pie after pie went through the oven, she’d been scrubbing and wiping away years of stains and smears.
“I’m taking Clifton Beasley a pie. And some soup. He’s been under the weather.”
“It’s been hard to keep up with everyone lately,” Dot acknowledged.
The Ladies Auxiliary tried to make sure that everyone who needed some extra food received something, but often it was haphazard, and people slipped through the cracks.
“My freezer’s full of that side of beef my husband bought without asking me.” Martha frowned. “I’d make double casseroles if I had anywhere to store the extra until someone needed it.”
Betty nodded in agreement. “Sam Gorman said he’d let me use space at the Mercantile if he had it, but his freezer stays crowded with him trying to keep all his customers happy.”
“We need a church freezer,” Renee said. “For all the food that’s for a good cause.”
Kate snapped her fingers. “That’s it.”
“What’s it?”
“A Faith freezer. That’s the first thing we’ll use this house for.”
Dot nodded with enthusiasm. “We could pick up a used freezer chest over at the Appliance Outlet in Pine Ridge for nothing. We can put it out in the garage. Lots of room for casseroles, pies, soups. We could even do breads and desserts.”
“And we could have cooking days.” Kate liked the idea more and more.
“I’ll coordinate meals,” Renee offered. “If people let me know who’s in need, I’ll assign one of us to take the food.”
Kate looked around the kitchen at the women who so easily stepped forward to perform acts of kindness for their friends and neighbors. True, she’d known many such women during her years in San Antonio, but it was also true that these women of Copper Mill had a special place in her heart. Their community wasn’t large. It didn’t boast twenty-screen movie complexes and big box superstores. What Copper Mill did offer, though, was a place where lost sheep—sheep like Mavis Bixby—didn’t stay lost forever.
“Sounds like a plan,” Kate said with a grateful smile. “Now, ladies, what do you say we cut into one of these pies?”
As Kate expected, no one objected to taking a short break for a cup of coffee and a slice of warm, cinnamon-spiced apple pie. And she’d never been happier to share one of her signature pies with people she was delighted to call her friends.
Kate said a silent prayer of thanksgiving, smiled at the thought of how pleased Mavis Baxter would be to know they were already putting her house to good use, and reached for a knife to cut into the pie.
About the Author
BETH PATTILLO is the RITA award-winning author of Heavens to Betsy and an ordained minister in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). She lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with her husband and two children. Visit her online at www.bethpattillo.com.
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