Hearts at Home by Lori Copeland Read Free Book Online Page B

her plate.
    Finally, when she could have heard a mosquito sneeze, her husband cleared his throat and casually shuffled his note cards. “Aren’t we all gaining weight? I noticed my trousers were a little tight this morning.”
    She eyed him sternly. “We’re not talking about your trousers. We’re talking about me.”
    Winslow picked up his note cards. “Edith, if you weighed three hundred pounds, I’d love you.”
    Edith’s jaw dropped. She’d noticed a little extra padding around her middle, but she couldn’t see herself the way he could. “You think I’ve gained that much?”
    Horror filled Winslow’s eyes as he reached for her hand. “Of course I don’t think you weigh three hundred pounds. You asked if I thought . . . well, I only meant to assure you that I love you no matter what the scales indicate. You will always look lovely to me and, um—”
    He was saved by a knock on the back door.
    Winslow pushed back from the table and glanced at the clock. “Who could be calling before seven on a Sunday morning?”
    Edith pulled the edges of her robe together as a tide of gooseflesh raced up each arm. Good news hardly ever arrived after midnight or before dawn.
    Winslow opened the door, flashing a worried smile to Olympia de Cuvier’s butler. “Caleb!”
    â€œSorry to bother you, Pastor, but I saw your light in the window, so I figured it was okay to come.”
    Winslow stepped back to make way for the older man. “Of course, come in. Edith and I were having breakfast. Can we get you a cup of coffee?”
    The man who for years had been Olympia’s confidant and companion moved into the house with an unusual grave dignity. Edith rose from the table. Something was seriously wrong.
    â€œDid Annie get home all right?” she asked.
    Caleb nodded. “She arrived late yesterday afternoon.”
    Winslow closed the door, shutting out the frosty air. “I imagine Olympia was glad to see her.”
    â€œShe was—and now she’s gone home.”
    â€œAnnie’s already gone back? What’d they do, have another argument?”
    â€œNo argument—and Olympia’s the one who’s home. She joined the Lord last night, a few minutes after eleven.”
    Edith brought her hand to her mouth. Though serious, Caleb seemed perfectly at peace, even content. But perhaps the man was still in shock.
    â€œI need to get to the church,” the butler said, tightening the scarf around his neck. “I’m meeting with some of the others for prayer before the service begins. But I knew you’d want to know about Olympia as soon as possible.”
    Edith’s hand slipped and clutched the collar of her robe. Dear goodness. What more could go wrong at Frenchman’s Fairest? Annie must be suffering terribly. After losing her uncle in October and now, Olympia. . . .
    Winslow looked at Edith; Edith could do nothing but nod. A lifetime of pastoral emergencies had taught her to expect the unexpected.
    Winslow reached for his Bible and coat, but Caleb’s outstretched hand stopped him. “There’s no need to come now, Pastor, you have a service to prepare for. Besides, Miss Annie’s asleep. But if you’d be so kind as to announce Missy’s home-going in the service, I’ll minister to those at the house until you can come.”
    â€œI’ll come—” Winslow’s voice cracked—“this afternoon, soon as I can.”
    â€œThat’d be fine.” Caleb moved toward the door. “Thank you, Pastor, for shepherding this flock. Your work meant a great deal to Missy.”
    Edith stood in the middle of the parsonage kitchen, stunned, as Winslow closed the back door.
    Olympia, dead?
    Surely this was a bad dream from which she would awaken soon.
    For the first time in recent months, Annie woke on a Sunday morning in Heavenly Daze and decided not to go to church.