Josie sang along, her spirit refreshed by the words of the songs and the singing of the congregation. Though she tried to spend time in daily devotions, coming to church filled a deeper need for connection with God’s people. In the days following the tornado, many people seemed to feel the same. People who, in the past, had never attended were now coming more often.

  Though Josie wanted to feel positive about the sudden surge in attendance, she was also realistic. She knew that people, in times of difficulty, often turned to God. She had done the same after her sister and brother-in-law died.

  But thanks to Alyssa, Josie had realized she needed, for the sake of her niece, to make a regular commitment. And because of that commitment she knew she had to trust God to help her in all the relationships in her life.

  Including dealing with her grandmother.

  Josie glanced sidelong at Betty, once again trying to understand her grandmother. Trying to figure out what it would take to win a word of approval from her. To see approbation in her eyes instead of condemnation. It would be wonderful to make peace with her before she and Alyssa left for another state.

  Reverend Garrison announced the Bible reading and Josie pulled the Bible out of the pew, thankful for the distraction. Ever since her grandmother moved in with her, Josie had become hyperaware of Betty’s criticism and carping. The only positive was she was that much more determined to take her and Alyssa away from it all.

  “Philippians 3, starting at verse 12,” Reverend Garrison read. “‘Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.’”

  Reverend Garrison read further on, but the last sentence caught Josie’s attention. Forgetting what is behind.

  Josie felt a touch of melancholy. Forgetting what lies behind wasn’t easy in a small town. Her mind slipped back to her shopping trip with Silas and his comment about people bringing up her past.

  She still wasn’t sure what to make of his reaction. Whether he was bothered by the stories or whether he was bothered by the fact that they were still being circulated.

  Probably the first, Josie thought, returning to Reverend Garrison who was now closing the Bible. She was eager to hear what he would have to say about the passage. To find out if she could gain some comfort from it.

  Lily started fidgeting and Betty shot her an angry glare but Lily wasn’t the least bit fazed by her. Alyssa leaned over and pulled Josie’s head down. “Lily has to go to the bathroom,” she whispered.

  Thankfully they were sitting closer to the back. When they came back Lily sat down, but she played with the children’s bulletin, dropped her pencil, twirled her hair and in general had a hard time sitting still.

  “Make that girl behave,” Betty hissed at Josie after a few minutes of this.

  What could she do? Lily obviously wasn’t used to being in church.

  When Alyssa and Lily started whispering together, Josie sat between them. By the time the service was over, she was tired and a bit cranky herself. She needed her time of worship and encouragement and exhortation. Her time to refuel for the work of the week.

  Instead she’d been refereeing two rowdy girls and one out-of-sorts grandmother.

  Thankfully the sun was still shining when they got out of church. The girls were still full of high spirits, which they obviously needed to get out of their system.

  “Let’s go have a look at the Old Town Hall,” Josie said, forcing a note of brightness into her voice as she pushed Betty down the ramp. “That will be fun.”

  “I want my cup of coffee,” Betty grumbled, twisting her fingers together on her lap.

  “You’ll get it later,” Josie assured her, keeping her smile intact. “I thought we could all see how the work is progressing.”

  “Yay. Let’s go,” Lily called out, grabbing Alyssa’s hand.

  Josie didn’t bother reprimanding them or telling them to slow down. They wouldn’t have heard it.

  “You’ve got to keep that girl under control better than you do, Josie Cane. She’s going to turn out exactly like you.”

  Forgetting what lies behind.

  The words mocked Josie as she pushed her grandmother toward the house. And how was she supposed to forget when she was reminded daily, if not hourly of the many and varied ways she had messed up in the past.

  “I sure hope they get it done by Christmas, in time for Founders’ Day,” Josie said, looking up at the structure. The new wood gleamed in the fall sunshine, but much needed to be done yet. The problem was volunteer fatigue.

  The last time she had brought lunch for the volunteers, only two people had been working. The other two men didn’t show up that day.

  The need was still so great. Josie’s gaze flitted past the half-finished structure to the town beyond. Houses were being rebuilt and every day the sound of hammers rang through the town. Everywhere except her house. Thanks to the delay with the insurance company, nothing had happened there for the past two weeks.

  “My mom and dad were married here,” Lily said, breaking into Josie’s pity party.

  “Are you sure?” Josie asked.

  “I have a picture. My mommy looked so pretty,” Lily said with a wistful note. Then she glanced at Josie, guilt etched on her features. “Though I’m not supposed to talk about her.”

  Josie thought of the album that Lily carried around and knew Silas was wrong to keep the memories so tightly stored away.

  “What kind of flowers did she have?” Josie asked.

  Lily brightened. “They were orange and white and so was my mommy’s dress.”

  “Your mom’s dress was orange and white?” Alyssa asked, scrunching up her face in an uncomprehending frown.

  “No, silly. The dress was white and it went way out in the back and it was all lace with short sleeves.”

  Alyssa sighed, her eyes taking on the dreamy look that young girls adopt when thinking of brides. “That sounds so pretty.”

  “My dad had a brown coat and pants on and he looked really handsome. He never wears the suit anymore.”

  Josie tried to imagine Silas in a suit, but all she could conjure was a tall man wearing scuffed cowboy boots, blue jeans frayed at the hem, a twill shirt and five o’clock shadow.

  A much more appealing picture.

  Josie shook the image and the reaction free. This was Lily’s father she was thinking about, she reminded herself. The man clearly still hung up on his dead wife.

  “Can we go inside?” Lily asked.

  “I don’t think it will be that safe.” Josie steeled herself at the flash of disappointment on Lily’s face. “But we can look in one of the windows.”

  Josie struggled to navigate the work site with her grandmother’s wheelchair, ignoring Betty’s complaints and protests.

  Lily and Alyssa were looking in the first window they found, cupping their hands around their face so they could see better.

  “Do you think that’s where my mom and dad were standing when they got married?” Lily asked.

  Josie left Betty behind as she joined Lily at the sawdust-speckled glass.

  “Looks to me like they would have gotten married over there,” she said, leaning closer and pointing to the front of the building.

  Lily didn’t say anything, but sighed gently, her breath disturbing the dust that had settled on the window. “I bet it was a beautiful wedding.”

  “I bet it was.” She kept her replies simple.

  Lily pulled back and looked at Josie. “My dad misses my mom, you know. He’s very lonely.”

  “I’m sure he is.” Josie gave her a gentle smile and wiped a smudge of dust off her nose, refusing to get pulled into a discussion about Silas.

  Lily sighed, as if sensing Josie’s reluctance, then Alyssa called her and she was off again.

  But as Josie walked back to where her grandmother waited, voicing her impatience, her thoughts drifted back to Silas. Imagining him with Lily. Imagining him alone.

  Chapter Eight

  “I had a lot of fun at Ms. Josie’s place,” Lily announced as she carried her overnight bag into the house. “Can I go again?”

  Silas followed her, dropping his own bag onto the kitchen floor. “Maybe. Sometime.”

  “We had so much fun,” she said as she set her bag on the kitchen table. She carefully pulled out her folded clothes while she chattered. “Ms. Josie said to treat these clothes with respect ’cause they were a special gift. And I got them from you for my birthday.” She shot him a gleaming smile. “And Ms. Josie helped me with my homework. She’s really smart and really pretty and I really like her…” Her endless chatter faded away.

  Thankfully. He didn’t want to be treated to yet another listing of Ms. Josie’s more obvious attributes. He was fully aware that she was smart and pretty. Too aware in fact.

  He pulled out a frozen pizza and peeled the wrapping off.

  “I have to find my…my…” Lily’s sentence trailed off again as she dug through her bag.

  “What do you have to you find?” he prompted, thankful they were now on another topic.

  But Lily shook her head, sat back, took a breath and charged onward. “Ms. Josie’s Gramma is grumpy, and when I told her that I liked my new clothes she said that God looks at the heart and not at the clothes, then I told her God probably liked my clothes. Then we sang some really neat songs. I even remembered one. Mommy used to—I mean, I used to sing it. It’s the song about Jesus loving all the children of the world and it made me feel happy that Jesus loves me. The minister told all the kids a story about memories and how we have good memories and bad memories and that it’s important to hold on—”

  “What do you mean, ‘the minister’?” Silas asked, letting the oven door slam shut as her chatter registered.

  “Reverend Garrison.” Lily frowned at him. “You know. The minister who works at the church.”

  “You went to church on Sunday?” He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so hard. What was Josie thinking to take his daughter to church without telling him?

  “We went to the Old Town Hall, too,” she continued, though the excitement had been leached out of her voice. She let a careful smile slip over her mouth, as if testing his tolerance and when he didn’t say anything, carried on. “You and mommy were married in the Old Town Hall, and at Ms. Josie’s house me and Alyssa played Bride and Groom. I pretended I was the Bride, and Alyssa pretended she was you. But she’s smaller and she doesn’t have cowboy boots like you do, of course.”

  Silas pressed back his comments, struggling with his reaction to her blithe recital.

  “But the Old Town Hall isn’t ready. Josie said they don’t have enough people to help. Why don’t you help, Daddy? Then maybe it can be ready on time.”

  Silas took two plates out of the cupboard and dropped them on the table. “I don’t have time.”

  “But if they don’t get enough people, it won’t be ready for Founders’ Day.” Lily injected an extra note of entreaty into her voice, which usually melted away even his most firm resolve.

  He didn’t want to rebuild the Old Town Hall. In fact, he had seen it as some type of divine retribution that it was leveled during the storm. It seemed appropriate that the place he and Kelly had begun the wonderful life they didn’t have anymore had been reduced to rubble.

  “Why don’t you wash up and bring your clothes to your room? Supper will be ready soon.”

  She frowned at him, but thankfully did as she was told.

  A couple hours later he had brought Lily to bed and, at her insistence, had sung the song again. Then she had insisted on praying, telling him that maybe Mommy was listening.

  Sentimental claptrap. But he suffered through it, did what she asked because he knew she wouldn’t quit until he did, then bid her good night.

  As he closed the door, however, he felt a flash of irritation with the lovely Josie Cane for putting him in this situation. For the first few months after Kelly’s death, Lily wanted him to pray with her. He couldn’t. She had left him alone after that.

  Now it looked like they were back at it again. He’d have to talk to Miss Cane about this. But first he had work to do. A farm to maintain.

  He worked on the brochure for his sale for an hour, then, when he was fairly sure Lily was asleep, he went downstairs and got on the phone.

  Josie answered on the third ring. She sounded breathless.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked, planting one hand on his hip, the other clenching the handset of the phone. Relax. Don’t get overemotional.

  “No. I was just putting my grandmother in bed.”

  Of course. The unselfish Josie Cane busy with her cantankerous grandmother. Through dinner he’d got to hear a few more stories from Lily about Betty Carter and he found himself alternately feeling sorry for Josie and feeling admiration for her patience.

  “What can I do for you, Silas?”

  He hesitated, suddenly unsure of how to proceed, then decided that his priority was Lily. Not Josie’s feelings. “I understand you took Lily to the Old Town Hall.”

  “You understand correctly.”

  “We’ve had this discussion before. About bringing up the past.”

  This netted him silence on Josie’s part. Maybe it was getting through to her.

  “I’m sorry, Silas,” she said finally. “I can’t agree.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “In your mind your wife’s death is in the past. Done. Over,” Josie said. “But not in Lily’s. She still has memories and sorrows, and I think it’s dangerous to put a lid on those and expect her to be in the same emotional place you are.”

  “I’m only trying to protect my daughter from pain that she can’t understand.”

  “Or are you trying to protect yourself?”

  This got him peeved. “And where did you get your psychology degree?”

  “The University of Life, Mr. Marstow,” Josie snapped.

  In spite of his irritation with her, he had to smile. Touché, he thought.

  “Regardless of what you think, Lily is my daughter.” He shoved his hand through his hair as he tried to regain his footing in this discussion.

  “And Lily was in my home, and I have my own ideas. I think Lily needs to know about her past and you need to face it.”

  Silas bit back an angry reply, feeling as if Josie was pushing him into a corner. But then he fought back.

  “What about taking her to church? Is that why you offered to take her in? So you could indoctrinate her?”

  “Hardly indoctrination. Merely reintroducing her to something she’d already been exposed to. She told me she used to attend church.”

  “Emphasis on used to.” He stopped there. He didn’t need to explain himself to her.

  “Why did you stop going?”

  Silas pulled his hand over his face, realizing he had made a tactical error. He shouldn’t have started this conversation. He should have said what he needed to say and then said goodbye.

  But now he was stuck talking to her. He should have known that conversation with women was tricky and unknown territory, a place where a mere male could easily get lost.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He hoped his terse reply would shut this down.

  “But I think it does,” Josie said, her voice lowering as if she was all concerned. “Because Lily used to go and she misses going.”

  “Why do you care? Why does this matter so much to you?” He dropped into a chair, resting his elbows on the kitchen table.

  More silence and once again he regretted his outburst. He was doing okay, being all stoic and concise, but she just wouldn’t quit.

  “It matters because…because I see in Lily some of the yearning that I faced at one time in my life. A yearning for family and for memories and for the solidity of a faith heritage!” She paused and Silas sincerely hoped this was the end of the discussion. Things were getting shakier and shakier. “My own parents died when I was young. My grandmother wouldn’t talk about my parents either and, well, I think I needed to know those stories, to know my parents and to know how their faith sustained them through hard times. I think I needed to know what God gave them so I could come back…” Her voice faded away and Silas knew she was referring to her own shady past.

  Silas endured an all-too-familiar moment of pain and he fought it down. “God doesn’t give,” he snapped. “God takes. God takes your time, your money and your prayers. And then He takes your wife.”

  He stopped himself there, frustrated that he’d shown her even a glimpse of what he’d struggled with ever since his wife died.

  In the silence that followed, Silas felt like hanging up. This conversation was a waste of time.

  But he didn’t. He waited to see what Josie would say to his heretical statement. She was probably waiting for the lightning to strike.

  “God didn’t take Kelly away, Silas. Cancer took Kelly away.”

  Her quiet but forceful words slipped into the crack he had shown her. Settled onto the painful memories he had skirted around so many times.

  He didn’t know what to say. No one had ever challenged him like she had or made him talk like she had.

  He didn’t like it.

  Her gentle sigh sifted through the phone line. Had she regretted her sudden outburst?

  “I also thought you should know that Lily brought a photo album here. It had a picture of Kelly on the front.”

  Silas swallowed. Then again. He was pretty sure he knew which album it was. Kelly’s sister had made it for Lily shortly after Kelly died. Silas couldn’t bear to see it and had hid it in his room.

  At least he thought he had hid it in his room.

  “I’m sorry if I stepped out of line,” Josie said, sounding uncharacteristically contrite. “I’m just concerned about Lily and I’m concerned about—” She stopped there.