A Treasure of the Heart. Valerie Hansen

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He heard the steps creak. “Stop! Don’t come down here. I’m coming up.”

      “Okay. You don’t have to yell at me.”

      He quickly joined her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I was just upset. You won’t believe what I found.”

      She had continued to cuddle the gray-and-white striped kitten. Now, she smiled and held it up as he joined her at the top of the stairs. “You won’t believe what I found, either. Look. It came to me.”

      “Terrific.” He brushed past her and headed down the hall.

      Lillie followed. “Well, you might act a little pleased. At least we won’t have to risk life and limb to rescue it.”

      “Yeah, well, I have other things on my mind right now. Somebody has been fooling with the storage in the basement and made a real mess.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      “No. I’m calling the cops.”

      “Wait. I saw a big motorcycle parked out back. Maybe whoever broke into the church rode that and we should disable it so they can’t get away.”

      “Not everybody who rides a bike is dangerous. The Harley’s mine.” He sensed that she’d stopped behind him in the hallway so he ordered, “Stay with me. Like you said, we’re not sure the vandals are gone. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

      “Or Fang, either.”

      “Fang?” James knew he was scowling at her and the kitten but he allowed himself the momentary expression of disdain. “You named that Fang?”

      Lillie giggled. “Sure. Why not?” She sobered. “Sorry. I know you’re in no mood for jokes. And I apologize for overreacting about the motorcycle. Go ahead and make your call. We’ll be right behind you.”

      James paused and let his gaze travel over her. “Try not to move around too much or we’ll have to vacuum this place. Your hair and clothes are full of those little white flower petals and you’re shedding them all over everything.”

      

      The local sheriff had lived in that area his whole life. Therefore, he and Lillie were well acquainted. She was sitting outside on the concrete steps to the sanctuary, the kitten napping cozily inside the front of her pink nylon jacket, when he arrived.

      She wasn’t surprised to see him but she was a little taken aback that there was now so much of him. Caleb Frost was twice the man he used to be and a goodly portion of him lapped over his belt in a jiggling roll.

      She smiled. “Hey, Caleb.”

      “Well, well, little Miss Lillie. I heard you was back. Finally got your fill of Chicago, eh?”

      “Something like that.” She got to her feet so she could speak more quietly, more privately, taking care to secure the kitten as she moved. “Tell me, Caleb. What’s going on around here? We never used to have trouble like this in Gumption.”

      “Times change,” the lawman said. He eyed the church. “You meet the new preacher?”

      “Yes. He seems okay. Why?”

      “Nothin’. Just seems a tad odd that nobody had any problems with this church, or any other, till he showed up.”

      “He must have come with credentials and good recommendations. The pastoral search committee would never have hired him otherwise.”

      “That’s true I guess.” He snorted. “’Course, I don’t belong to this particular church so I can’t say for certain.”

      “It’s not the name over the door that matters and you know it, Caleb.”

      He guffawed. Lillie wouldn’t have been surprised to see him slap his knee, too.

      “You have growed up, haven’t you, missy? Well, just you remember, folks around here take care of their own. Been doin’ it for more years than you’ve been on this earth.”

      “Like Annabelle Pike, you mean?” Lillie straightened and stood tall with the remembrance of her local historical idol. It had been a long time since she’d thought of Annabelle’s bravery back in 1838 and the memory strengthened her. If that pioneer woman could face down the whole U.S. Army to save the life of a Cherokee baby she’d rescued from the Trail of Tears, Lillie could certainly stand up to the likes of Caleb Frost.

      The portly sheriff chose to disregard her antagonistic attitude. “I hear the preacher’s got another problem. Best be gettin’ inside to see about it before he gripes to the city council.” He touched the brim of his cap and gave as much of a bow as his pendulous gut would permit. “Evening, Miss Lillie.”

      She waited until he’d turned his back and entered the church before she gave in to the childish urge to make a face and stick out her tongue at him.

      

      James was sitting behind his desk when Lillie entered the office a half hour later. “I just saw Caleb leave,” she said. “What did he say?”

      “Same thing he said when the church and my Harley were egged a few weeks ago. He’s sure I did something to tick somebody off.” James raked his fingers through his hair. “I wish I knew if he was right.”

      “Even if he is, it’s not your fault. I’m sure that whatever you said or did, you had the right motives.”

      “Thanks.”

      “I understand this congregation has grown a lot since you became its pastor.”

      “It has. And we really do need bigger facilities, which is why we’re in the process of working up plans for a whole new building. I suspect my problems may be because of that.”

      “There are always folks who resist change, but if this church is really too small, it’s your duty to enlarge it, right?”

      “That was my conclusion.”

      “Then you have nothing to blame yourself for. You can’t please everybody.” She smiled. “And certainly not in a small town like Gumption. Like they say, stub your toe once around here and a dozen people fall down.”

      James had to smile. “Yeah?”

      “Yeah. Gram used to tell me that if I sneezed, a hundred folks would say, ‘God bless you,’ before the dust had settled. That used to strike me as a drawback but now I sort of see it as a comfort.”

      “It should be.”

      Still carrying the kitten, this time on the outside of her jacket, she slowly strolled around the room. “You’ve cleaned up this office nicely. I used to come to youth group here on Saturdays and I remember all the stacks of books and paper Brother Smallwood had piled everywhere. It was a real mess.”

      “I moved a lot of that stuff to the basement but I kept it for the day when the church has its own library. That’s just one more reason why we need a larger building.”

      “I

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