repeated more softly. "I thought God brought me here to Seattle to marry a wonderful man. Now that Eli's gone, I feel God has a more defined purpose. You know my papa was a pastor."
Reverend Inman nodded. "So Eli said."
"Well, Papa never so much as thought about building anything so grand as a tabernacle, but I believe he would approve of your and Eli's dream. When Eli told me about the dream you and he shared, something moved in my heart, Reverend Inman. Something so deep and so profound that I believe God wants me to stay here, to do all I can to help carry on Eli's work."
Leaning back in his chair, Reverend Inman appeared to weigh her suggestion. "You're most welcome to stay if you feel this is where God is leading you. The ministry can use all the hands we can get."
June could see he was touched that she had caught Eli's vision. "I've prayed about it, and I believe this is what I am to do. In a small way I'll be doing it for Papa, too. I think he would be proud of my being part of such a grand endeavor."
"Then, of course, you must stay. Might I hope you will remain here at the complex?"
June nodded. "If that would be all right with you."
"I would have it no other way." He patted her hand. "Oh, my dear, you are indeed a godsend. Eli would be overjoyed to know that you're carrying on in his footsteps."
June sighed, pushing her half-empty plate aside. "Do you think Eli knows, Reverend Inman?"
Reverend Inman smiled. "I think Eli's joy knows no bounds, my dear. Could we ask for anything more?"
"No, nothing more," she agreed. "I thought I would begin tomorrow morning. I have an idea for raising funds I would like to talk over, if I may."
"Certainly." Reverend Inman reached for his coffee. "What's this idea you have?"
His eyes widened as she chatted on. He stirred four teaspoons of sugar into his coffee instead of his usual two, his jaw slackening on occasion. When she was finished, he took a fortifying sip of coffee and leaned back in his chair.
"Well." He cleared his throat. "It is a most uncommon approach, but I can think of nothing scripturally wrong with it-provided you in no way imply the men should give out of guilt."
"Oh, no! I would never imply that. Giving should be from the heart-a freewill offering. It's just, that's where so many men go-and I think they'll be happy to donate to the tabernacle if given an opportunity."
"Well, they could attend services nightly," Reverend Inman pointed out.
"Yes, but they don't, Reverend. So I'll go to them."
The following afternoon June stood in front of the saloon, gazing up at the large, crudely constructed sign nailed to a weathered-looking shack.
The Gilded Hen looked downright sinful.
She shook her head, wondering if Eli would have approved of her scheme. More important, would God object? Reverend Inman had said he could think of no scriptural reason not to....
Piano music spilled through the double swinging doors as she balanced on tiptoes to peek in. Scruffy men sat around tables playing cards while others stood at the bar and flirted with scantily dressed women with flaming rouged cheeks.
Oh, the shame of it all. What would Aunt Thalia say about such goings-on?
When June first thought about a plan to raise funds for the tabernacle, the saloon had immediately come to mind. She and Reverend Inman had driven past the establishment the day he met her ship. Stationed beside the door of The Gilded Hen, she could sing and ring a bell. When the men started home after a long night of drinking and ... well, whatever a man did in an establishment like The Gilded Hen, she could offer them an opportunity to contribute to a worthwhile community project. If they didn't want to give, they didn't have to. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Aunt Thalia would say.
Positioning herself to the left of the wood porch, June hummed a few practice notes, then began to sing "Amazing Grace" in a strong, clear alto. The tones were as sweet and pure as the message. Ringing the
Reverend Inman nodded. "So Eli said."
"Well, Papa never so much as thought about building anything so grand as a tabernacle, but I believe he would approve of your and Eli's dream. When Eli told me about the dream you and he shared, something moved in my heart, Reverend Inman. Something so deep and so profound that I believe God wants me to stay here, to do all I can to help carry on Eli's work."
Leaning back in his chair, Reverend Inman appeared to weigh her suggestion. "You're most welcome to stay if you feel this is where God is leading you. The ministry can use all the hands we can get."
June could see he was touched that she had caught Eli's vision. "I've prayed about it, and I believe this is what I am to do. In a small way I'll be doing it for Papa, too. I think he would be proud of my being part of such a grand endeavor."
"Then, of course, you must stay. Might I hope you will remain here at the complex?"
June nodded. "If that would be all right with you."
"I would have it no other way." He patted her hand. "Oh, my dear, you are indeed a godsend. Eli would be overjoyed to know that you're carrying on in his footsteps."
June sighed, pushing her half-empty plate aside. "Do you think Eli knows, Reverend Inman?"
Reverend Inman smiled. "I think Eli's joy knows no bounds, my dear. Could we ask for anything more?"
"No, nothing more," she agreed. "I thought I would begin tomorrow morning. I have an idea for raising funds I would like to talk over, if I may."
"Certainly." Reverend Inman reached for his coffee. "What's this idea you have?"
His eyes widened as she chatted on. He stirred four teaspoons of sugar into his coffee instead of his usual two, his jaw slackening on occasion. When she was finished, he took a fortifying sip of coffee and leaned back in his chair.
"Well." He cleared his throat. "It is a most uncommon approach, but I can think of nothing scripturally wrong with it-provided you in no way imply the men should give out of guilt."
"Oh, no! I would never imply that. Giving should be from the heart-a freewill offering. It's just, that's where so many men go-and I think they'll be happy to donate to the tabernacle if given an opportunity."
"Well, they could attend services nightly," Reverend Inman pointed out.
"Yes, but they don't, Reverend. So I'll go to them."
The following afternoon June stood in front of the saloon, gazing up at the large, crudely constructed sign nailed to a weathered-looking shack.
The Gilded Hen looked downright sinful.
She shook her head, wondering if Eli would have approved of her scheme. More important, would God object? Reverend Inman had said he could think of no scriptural reason not to....
Piano music spilled through the double swinging doors as she balanced on tiptoes to peek in. Scruffy men sat around tables playing cards while others stood at the bar and flirted with scantily dressed women with flaming rouged cheeks.
Oh, the shame of it all. What would Aunt Thalia say about such goings-on?
When June first thought about a plan to raise funds for the tabernacle, the saloon had immediately come to mind. She and Reverend Inman had driven past the establishment the day he met her ship. Stationed beside the door of The Gilded Hen, she could sing and ring a bell. When the men started home after a long night of drinking and ... well, whatever a man did in an establishment like The Gilded Hen, she could offer them an opportunity to contribute to a worthwhile community project. If they didn't want to give, they didn't have to. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Aunt Thalia would say.
Positioning herself to the left of the wood porch, June hummed a few practice notes, then began to sing "Amazing Grace" in a strong, clear alto. The tones were as sweet and pure as the message. Ringing the
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