of charity, a man who had clearly done better with his own life, would destroy him.
She extended her hand to him. “I’m sorry. We didn’t introduce ourselves. My name is Analiese Wagner, and this is Ethan Martin. I’m the minister here. And you are?”
His handshake was tentative and trembling. She wondered how much he’d had to eat. “Herman Fowler. Everybody calls me Man.”
“And you’re Shiloh?” She turned, hand still extended.
The girl looked at her, looked at her hand, looked back up at Analiese’s face, then, with reluctance, gave a quick handshake.
“And you’re Mrs. Fowler?” Analiese asked the older woman.
“Belle.” The woman wiped her hand on the side of a faded dress that stretched tightly across her hips and breasts, and grimly held it out. Despite having watched her cough into that same hand Analiese shook it without flinching.
The boy stepped forward. He was the only one of the four who didn’t seem to realize that this situation was both awkward and possibly dangerous for his family. “I’m Dougie. Are ladies ministers?”
“We certainly can be.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. She thought he might be younger than he looked. Physically he was more like his mother than his father, broad-shouldered and moonfaced. She could see a resemblance to his sister, but it was subtle.
“How long have you been in Asheville?” she asked Man.
“A while now.”
“Have you looked into some of the social services available? Because the city tries to find housing for people who need it.”
“We don’t fit their rules.”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant. She had just returned from a rally where she had spoken to a crowd about the need for more housing and help. Did she really need to be hit over the head?
“So you’ve tried. You’ve spoken to people who could help?”
“There’s no place for all of us,” Shiloh said. “You think we just sat around and hoped somebody would show up and buy us a house? Of course we tried!”
“You be nice, Shiloh,” Belle said. “You been taught to be nice.”
Analiese was quite certain Shiloh didn’t want to be nice. She could relate to that, having felt that way herself more than once today. And now, with the answer to this problem as clear as the answer to a prayer she hadn’t even prayed, she knew she would experience many moments in the immediate future when she didn’t want to be nice again.
A host of people were going to be unhappy with what she was about to do.
“I’m sorry, but I had to ask,” she said. “I know housing for families is hard to find.”
“We’ll pack up and go,” Man said. “We would appreciate it if you wouldn’t get the police involved.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Analiese said. “There’s an apartment upstairs on the third floor. Nobody’s living in it right now. You won’t be taking anything that belongs to anybody else, but it would be my pleasure to see it being used tonight. It’s warm and dry, and there are enough beds, I think, although you’ll need your sleeping bags, because I doubt we have sheets. Then if you’ll let me help, I’ll see if I can find somebody to help you get back on your feet.”
Man began to protest, but she held up her hand. “Please, it’s not charity. Everything’s already there just waiting for you. It won’t cost anybody anything, and your wife needs a good night’s sleep.”
“Analiese...” Ethan’s voice held a note of warning.
He was right to worry. She was going out on a limb here. She didn’t know these people, and she was inviting them to stay in the parish house without consulting a single church leader. The present council was the most contentious she had ever worked with and needed special handling, but she didn’t have time to track down the right people, wait while they secretly conversed about what a problem their minister could be, and then finally got around to calling her back with a list of rules she had to follow.
This family didn’t have time.
She smiled at Ethan. “Can you help the Fowlers bring their things up to the third floor? We can all carry something.”
“It’s nice of you and all...” Man’s voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the words to say no.
She took that as a yes. “Where are you parked? Why don’t you move your car next to mine?” She pointed to the staff parking area.
“Daddy, she wants to do this. Let her,” Shiloh said.
Man’s shoulders slumped, but he gave a slight nod.
Analiese had already suspected, but now she knew for certain where the power in this family lay. If she could get Shiloh on her side, she could make things happen. She turned her attention to the girl. “We had a church Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, and the leftovers went into the refrigerator. If I bring them up, will you heat them for your family? I know you ate, but who can resist leftover turkey sandwiches?”
Shiloh didn’t smile. She didn’t even look happy. She just shrugged. “We’ll see.”
* * *
The expansive third floor of the parish house was for the most part used for storage, although much of the space was empty. The apartment that Felipe and his family had inhabited had been carved out of it more than half a century ago as a way to save the church money. If the Church of the Covenant could offer housing as part of their employment package, that saved on salary.
After several years Felipe had balked and given notice so he could look for a job that didn’t include housing. With his children growing older the family needed a larger, homier place to live. The personnel committee had quickly offered a new deal, salary only, and the apartment had been vacant ever since.
In the intervening months discussions had ensued about what to do with the third floor. With Covenant Academy at their disposal on Sunday mornings, there was no need for more classrooms. The staff didn’t need storage; they needed to get rid of useless supplies and outdated equipment. The apartment needed rehabilitation before it could be used as a rental, and the location made rentals difficult anyway. Nothing had been decided.
With Ethan following her, Analiese preceded the Fowlers, who were taking down the tent. She unlocked the apartment door with one of her many keys and saw there was serious work to be done. “I didn’t think about the dust.”
“We can do a quick once-over,” he said. “It’s easy enough to wipe down surfaces and sweep the floor. The good news is that it’s not freezing up here.”
Heat had risen from the rooms downstairs, and she was guessing the temperature in the apartment was at least sixty. She crossed the living room and found the thermostat in the hallway beyond it. Sixty exactly. She turned the dial to seventy-two and heard the reassuring thump of the wall furnace in the living room.
“I can see why your sexton relocated,” Ethan said from the living
