Sweet Forever by Ramona K. Cecil Page A

encore. After leading the congregation in benediction, he wrestled with the thorny problem as he mingled with his flock.
    The new piano, which had arrived earlier in the week, had indeed proved a mixed blessing. His heart sang remembering the joy that lit Rosaleen’s face as workers uncrated it in the parlor. A near twin to Becky and Ephraim’s instrument, it now graced the front left quadrant of the room.
    Later that day, he’d caught Rosaleen walking around the piano. Watching her fingers stroking the beautiful rosewood finish of the cabinet, he’d begged her to play something from the complimentary sheet music the manufacturer had sent along with the instrument.
    For the next half hour, he and Mrs. Buchanan, along with Andrew and Patsey Chapman, sat enthralled, listening to a hauntingly beautiful rendition of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.”
    Frustration gripped Jacob as he left the parlor to bid his parishioners good day at the front door. Shaking hands absently, he prayed for God’s intervention. Lord, somehow You must help me find a way to replace Myrtle Stinnett with Rosaleen as pianist for worship services. Psalm 27:14 sprang to his mind. “ Wait on the Lord : be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord . ”
    “Well, Reverend Hale, do you not agree that the new piano is a wonderful addition to services, especially with Myrtle at the keyboard?”
    Roscoe Stinnett’s question jerked Jacob from his reverie. Except for his sister, Becky, and her family, the Stinnetts were the last in the line of parishioners filing out of the boardinghouse.
    Praying for guidance, Jacob chose his words carefully. “I do believe it shall prove to be a true blessing. Again, I thank you and Mrs. Stinnett for your generosity.”
    He turned his attention to Myrtle Stinnett’s slight, retiring figure, half hidden behind her husband’s robust bulk. Her reticent demeanor beside her overbearing husband always evoked a feeling of sympathy from Jacob. “As for your contribution as pianist, Mrs. Stinnett, I’m speechless.”
    “My playing would have been better if my rheumatism wasn’t acting up,” she murmured, her eyes not quite meeting his. Grimacing, she wrung her lace-gloved hands then lowered her pinched features until they disappeared behind her gray bonnet.
    Loath to injure the shy woman’s feelings, Jacob said, “I can honestly say, I found it unequalled by anything I’ve heard before.”
    A satisfied smile settled across Roscoe Stinnett’s broad face. He made their farewells and guided his wife outside to join others of the congregation visiting on the lawn.
    “Jacob.”
    Jacob turned at his sister’s urgent whisper.
    “Is there nothing you can do?”
    “I only wish there were, Becky.” He gave a wistful sigh and reached out and touched the soft, rosy cheek of his infant niece cooing in her mother’s arms. “The sad thing is, I feel sure it was not Myrtle’s idea to act as pianist but Roscoe’s.”
    “Yes,” Becky agreed, repositioning the ivory crocheted wrap the baby had kicked off. “I’m afraid the man bullies her. But you know Myrtle, she’d never say boo to a goose. If only—”
    “I know,” he finished her thought, “if only Rosaleen could play for services.”
    “Perhaps I can help.” Ephraim, with Daniel in hand, joined his wife. “I confess I was tempted to accompany Daniel on his last trip to the outhouse.”
    “But what could you do, dear?” Becky asked.
    Jacob, too, wondered what his brother-in-law had in mind.
    “I’m not altogether sure, but a few prayers concerning the subject would not be misplaced this week,” Ephraim told them, grinning.
    As Jacob watched his sister and her family walk away, he prayed that God had given Ephraim a solution to their prickly problem. Now, if only he could convince Rosaleen to attend services.
    Jacob stood at the front door shaking hands, eager to see the last parishioner from the boardinghouse. He