Ms. McKinney. Thank you! I mean…”
But she didn’t want to hear his gratitude. As quickly and gently as she could, she ended the conversation. He was a good kid. But like most eighteen-year-olds, he still had some growing up to do.
And she had to stop spending so much of her own money on classroom materials. Like all too many teachers, she was always finding things that she thought would stimulate interest in her students, things the school system didn’t provide. And of course there were always the students from poorer families who needed the most basic supplies, from pens to notebooks. She never regretted those purchases, but she did need to be more careful about them, if her savings could be wiped out by a single car accident.
Forcing herself to shake off the mood that had been plaguing her since the accident, she went to freshen up a little. Sam would arrive to get her soon. And there was the neighbor across the street. She needed to at least welcome him.
The past needed to return to the dungeon where it belonged.
Which of course it didn’t want to. But after all these years, Mary had some experience of twisting her mind away from it by playing tricks with herself. She rewrote her shopping list, telling herself she needed to forgo a few extravagances she had planned. Crossing these things off the list simply wouldn’t do.
And finally she went across the street to welcome her new neighbor, sure that a few minutes of conversation until Sam arrived would be just the distraction she needed.
He was a beautiful man, she thought as she approached him. Tall, lean, with the thickest, whitest hair she had ever seen, and piercing eyes as blue as ice. His very presence seemed to command, and something about him struck her as familiar.
“Hi,” she said brightly. “I’m Mary McKinney, your neighbor across the street.”
He smiled. “Reverend Elijah Canfield,” he said in a deep voice that hinted at thunder. “I’m the new pastor at The Little Church in the Woods.”
“Oh, it’s a lovely little church,” Mary said warmly.
“You’ll join us sometime for worship?”
“I’ll think about it,” Mary replied, though she had no intention of that. She belonged to another church with which she was quite content, thank you very much. “Canfield? I know a deputy named Sam Canfield.” It was a casual remark, something to mention to a stranger when she didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t expect the answer she got.
“I know him,” said Reverend Canfield.
“Are you related?” The thought surprised her. While she didn’t know Sam all that well, she suddenly realized that she’d been under the impression he didn’t have any family at all.
“I know him,” Elijah repeated.
“Oh.” Mary felt uncomfortable suddenly, as if she’d trod somewhere she shouldn’t have. A strange feeling for a first, casual encounter with a stranger. “Well, I hope you enjoy your time in Whisper Creek, Reverend. It’s a lovely, friendly little town. And if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m always good for a cup of sugar.”
He laughed, and the uneasiness was dispelled as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud.
“I’ll remember that, Mary McKinney. Is that missus?”
“Ms.”
“Miss McKinney,” he said with a little bow.
Mary, who was quite opposed to “miss” because she didn’t feel her marital status was anybody’s business but her own, realized she had just run into an old-time preacher who thought women had their proper place. However, out of common courtesy she said nothing. Some old dogs couldn’t learn new tricks, anyway.
“So, what do you do, Miss McKinney?”
Was she imagining it, or did he emphasize the “miss”? Down, girl, she told herself. It was not time to get on her feminist soapbox. “I’m a teacher at the high school,” she answered. “Creative writing and literature.”
At that moment two of the helpers came out of the house, and with a suddenly sinking heart, Mary recognized them. They were parents who had last year attempted to get some of the books on her reading list banned.
“Literature,” Elijah Canfield said. “That wouldn’t be The Catcher in the Rye and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, would it?”
It would be. It also included The Return of the Native, Pride and Prejudice, Captain Blood (for the boys) and a lot of other classics, like Catch-22 and The Old Man and the Sea. She’d had to go to the mat over some of them last year before the school board, and she was prepared to do it again.
But now she found herself looking into the eyes of a new enemy, one who could be considerably more powerful than the handful of parents who had complained last year.
She felt her dander rising but tried to remain civil. “Among other books,” she said pleasantly. “I always feel it’s best to introduce young people to a wide variety of the greatest works of literature. It tends to be instructive in ways that help them better avoid some of the errors and temptations of life, not to mention exposing them to powerful writing.”
So take that, she thought almost childishly.
“The Bible is powerful writing.”
“Indeed,” she agreed with a smile. “Very powerful. But it’s wisest to leave that in the hands of ministers, don’t you think? I’m sure you’d be very unhappy with me if I pointed out the apocryphal nature of some of the Biblical stories.”
And thank goodness Sam’s patrol car pulled up across the street just then. Escape was at hand. But then she noticed that Sam didn’t get out and come join them. Why not, if he knew this preacher?
“There’s nothing apocryphal about the Bible,” Elijah said sternly.
“Not about its message, no,” she agreed, clinging to her smile. “However, I’m sure some of the stories are more illustrative than factual. But I have to go now, Reverend, so I’ll leave the Bible in your capable hands. Let me know if I can help with anything.”
Except banning books in my school, she thought irritably as she crossed the street and climbed into the patrol car beside Sam. Then it struck her as odd that Sam hadn’t even climbed out to open the car door for her. That didn’t seem like him. What was going on here?
“That man,” she said as Sam pulled away from the curb, “is going to be a major thorn in my side, I know it.”
“He enjoys being a thorn,” Sam said levelly. “It’s his stock-in-trade. Don’t get into it with him, Mary. You’ll regret it.”
“I have a feeling he’s going to want to ban books.”
“Probably. He has everywhere else he’s been, as far as I know.”
She turned in her seat and looked at him. “Sam, what’s going on? Who is he? Do you know him?”
“I used to know him,” Sam said after a moment.
“Friends?
