The six-year-olds spared a moment to look up. “Hi, Pastor Gabriel,” they said, their voices echoing off each other. “Can we go now, Mom? Pleeease.”
Susan nodded and the twins jumped up and down.
“Hold hands,” Susan called to their backs, the girls already heading across the lawn to a spot where a juggler on stilts had begun to perform in front of an excited crowd of children and teenagers.
Laughing, Gabriel watched Susan’s daughters holding hands as they ran, long beaded braids flying behind. “Your daughters are a delight, Mrs. Carter.”
“More like a handful,” she said. “And why don’t you call me Susan.”
“I will,” he said with a smile.
Susan spent a moment regretting that he wouldn’t be one of the bachelors up for auction at the fund-raising gala the following weekend. Forget the fantasy dates Jessica had set up; she’d make a generous donation to her own cause just to watch this man smile.
“Only if you’ll call me Gabriel.”
“It’s a deal,” she said. “Though I’m not in the habit of calling clergy members by their first names.”
“Then don’t think of me as clergy.”
She raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to accomplish that?” Like a game-show hostess displaying the grand prize for correctly answering the bonus-round question, she swept her hand in front of her. “Look at this. We’re at your church’s annual Labor Day picnic. The church is right over there with your name displayed—in rather large letters, I might say.” The church with its stained glass windows was a centerpiece in the neighborhood.
Gabriel chuckled. “I had nothing to do with that sign.”
A huge red-and-white banner welcomed members and friends to the church picnic. Gabriel’s name was printed almost as big as the church’s.
“Do you mind if we stroll that way? I want to keep an eye on the girls.” She didn’t wait for his answer, but started moving in the direction of the entertainer so she could see Hannah and Sarah.
“They’re identical,” Gabriel said. “How do you tell them apart?”
“I’m the mom, I’m supposed to.”
“I bet you get that a lot with twins.”
Susan’s answer got interrupted.
“Hey, Pastor Gabriel. Wait!” The kettle corn vendor ran around his booth with a big bag of the sweetly flavored popcorn in hand. “Here you go. For you and your pretty lady.”
Susan flushed and found herself grateful that her dark skin concealed most of the blush. Gabriel glanced at her and smiled, but he didn’t correct the concessionaire.
He instead dug in his pocket for money, but the vendor shook his head.
“No charge, Pastor. We just want to thank you for letting us set up shop here this year. Business has been great all day. The missus and I are gonna come to one of your services this Sunday.”
“Glad to hear it,” Gabriel said, shaking the man’s hand. “I’ll look for you. And we’re pleased to have you with us today.” He nodded toward two couples who approached with money at the ready for kettle corn. “Looks like you have some more business headed your way.” He lifted the bag of popcorn. “Thanks again.”
“Anytime, Reverend. Nice to meet you, ma’am,” the vendor said to Susan, who simply smiled.
Gabriel offered the bag to Susan. She opened her mouth to ask him why he hadn’t disabused the man of the notion that they were a couple, then decided that to call attention to it would only be…what? More embarrassing? So instead of saying anything, she accepted some of the treat he presented.
“Mmm. This is good.” She looked back at the booth. The vendor waved and she waved back. “I’ll have to remember to get some for the girls.”
As they strolled across the lawn, several people called out to either Susan or Gabriel as they passed.
“You’re quite a celebrity here,” he said. “It seems like everyone knows you.”
“Does that make you uncomfortable?”
He gave her an odd look, and Susan regretted the challenging tone she’d taken with him.
Then he smiled. “No. I like strong women.”
Chapter Two
Susan hid a smile by taking another nibble of popcorn.
“I’m actually glad you came over,” she said. “I wanted to speak with you about something.”
“Hi there, Pastor Gabriel,” said a man who touched the brim of his Denver Broncos cap in greeting as he passed. “Great picnic.”
“Thanks, nice seeing you, John.”
“You’re the popular one,” Susan observed.
Good Shepherd Christian Church’s Labor Day picnic had grown into something of a tradition for members of the congregation as well as the community. The church stocked what seemed like an endless supply of hot dogs, hamburgers, chips and soft drinks. Picnic-goers could then purchase other treats, like kettle corn and cotton candy, or T-shirts and other mementos from vendors set up on two sides of the church’s lawn. Entertainment and games claimed the other. From horseshoes to volleyball, the picnic included a little something for everyone.
The afternoon would close with a concert by a popular Christian recording artist. Most people would later make their way downtown for the city’s big fireworks display.
“New preacher giving away free food,” Gabriel said. “What’s not to like?”
Susan chuckled. “The hard times will come later, huh?”
“Like death and taxes. So, you said you wanted to speak with me about something.”
Enjoying the light moments with him, Susan found herself reluctant to end the easy companionship, but she had business to tend to, business that directly involved Reverend Dawson.
He was popular and bright. That’s why she didn’t understand why in all his outreach efforts to date, he hadn’t stopped by or inquired about Galilee.
“You’ve been here almost a year now,” she said.
Gabriel nodded. “Nine months.”
“You’ve done a lot in the community. I’ve seen your name on several boards and you’ve started a couple of outreach ministries.”
He glanced at her. “I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”
Susan had the grace to smile. “But you’ve missed a big pocket of the community.”
They’d reached
