Betsy's Return by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page B

William whispered, bending close to Betsy’s ear.
    She nodded, and a shiver tickled her spine.
    Betsy sang the first verse alone, and William joined her on the chorus. Their voices blended in perfect unison, and Betsy soon forgot her nervousness as she allowed the music and the words of the beautiful hymn to lift her spirits. As they reached the last note, she felt as if God was looking down from heaven and smiling His approval.
    The room exploded with applause and numerous amen s, and everyone but William’s housekeeper and a few of the young, single women smiled back at them.
    When the service ended and Betsy and her father headed for the door, she was stopped by several people who said how much they enjoyed the duet. Some even commented on how well the pastor’s and Betsy’s voices blended, and Kelly Cooper had been bold enough to whisper that she thought Betsy and the preacher looked real handsome together.
    â€œPlease don’t tell that to the pastor or anyone else,” Betsy whispered back. “I wouldn’t want any false rumors getting started.”
    â€œOh, don’t worry,” Kelly said as she ushered her two children out the door behind their father. “I would never embarrass you that way.”
    Betsy turned to her father, who looked even paler than he had earlier. “Should I see if someone can give us a ride home?”
    He nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. I’m feeling a bit weak and shaky.”
    â€œWhy don’t I walk you back to the sanctuary so you can have a seat? Then I’ll see who might be available to take us home.”
    Papa took hold of Betsy’s arm and offered her a feeble-looking smile. “You’re such a thoughtful daughter, and you’ve got the voice of an angel. I know everyone enjoyed the song you and the pastor sang today.”
    â€œThank you, Papa.” Betsy saw that her father was situated on a back pew, and then she headed back to the foyer. She was about to ask Sarah Turner and her husband, Sam, if they could catch a ride in their wagon, when she overheard Clara Andrews invite the preacher over to her house for Sunday dinner. “It will give you and my daughter, Hortence, a chance to get better acquainted,” the woman said, clasping the pastor’s arm.
    â€œI—I don’t know.” Pastor William looked kind of flustered. Had he made other plans for the afternoon? “I’ll have to check with my housekeeper and see what plans she’s made for our dinner today.”
    â€œMrs. Bevens is welcome to join us. In fact, that will work out real well. She and I can visit while you and Hortence spend some time together.”
    And I was worried that someone might think I’d set my cap for the pastor, Betsy thought with a shake of her head. I would say Pastor William is the one who needs to worry.

Chapter 9
    â€œI’m heading out to make a few calls on some people in my congregation,” William told Mrs. Bevens as he grabbed his Bible and started for the back door.
    She looked up from the letters she’d been writing at the kitchen table and frowned. “Can’t that wait? I was hoping you would help me measure the windows in the sitting room today. The curtains are terribly faded, and they should have been replaced before we moved in. I want to have some new ones put up as soon as possible.”
    â€œI don’t think new curtains are a priority right now,” he said with a wave of his hand.
    â€œOh, but they are,” Mrs. Bevens argued. “If you’re going to entertain properly, you’ll need the parsonage to look as nice as possible.” She wrinkled her nose, as though some foul odor had permeated the room. “This house is a disgrace.”
    William grimaced. It was a shame that the persnickety woman put so much emphasis on material things and didn’t seem to care about people or their needs. And she calls herself a Christian, he