The Cedar Tree (Love Is Not Enough) by Danni McGriffith Read Free Book Online Page A

front, and the rest of the pews remained in double rows to each side of the main aisle. The floor was the same alternating squares of black and white tile, like a checkerboard.
    The morning sun flooded through the swirled yellow hues of stained glass in tall windows, filling the sanctuary with mellow light. It gleamed on the old pulpit at the front, the oak pews worn smooth and shiny from the hands and behinds of many years, and on Katie's blonde head halfway from the front.
    She sat next to a tall young man with sandy hair cut short, revealing a sunburned neck and big ears. The sinewy brown arm around her shoulders evidenced a man who worked for a living, and the gentle movement of his fingers on her silky hair showed a man who loved her.
    He frowned. The thing might not be as easy as he had thought.
    The oldest Campbell brother, Karl, sat with his head bowed on the back pew at the end of a row of young men. Clean cut, solid, and athletic, he had the same kind of light hair and deep-set blue eyes as his sister. On the day they met, Karl's direct gaze in his lean-jawed face had given the impression he didn't tolerate much foolishness.
    His grandfather finally finished praying and got stiffly from his knees. He sat next to Karl who acknowledged him with a grin then bowed his head again as another man knelt to pray.
    He bowed his head, too, but after a few minutes, he began to scan the crowd. Sister Sylvie was easy to pick out, very old and frail with parchment-like skin drooping over the arm of her wheelchair, pink scalp showing through thin white hair. Definitely not a good prospect for his grandfather—her cooking days were over. Sister Helen wasn't as easy to decide. Several women might be her, but he settled on a plump, middle aged woman with a brush of dark mustache. She wore a smile of pure joy, staring all around like a child, and especially at his grandfather on the front pew. Possibly she could cook, but the facial hair was a little off putting. 
    A young man rose to stand at the pulpit with a worn Bible and preach about the children of Israel. He had no idea who the children of Israel were or why anybody would want to know, but just then an uncommonly beautiful young woman of about eighteen rose from her seat, focusing his attention.
    Tall, her raven black hair bound up like a Navajo woman's, she perched a light-haired toddler on her hip and walked down the aisle toward the back. Every head on the back pew lifted and eyes fixed on her making her way down the aisle, skirt swaying gracefully. Karl tensed, his gaze riveted on the willowy young woman, but her smooth, brown face remained expressionless and she never glanced at Karl, or anyone on the back pew, for that matter.
    He could understand Karl's interest—she was definitely a knockout—but he turned away his gaze. He always avoided girls with kids, himself.
    After the young preacher sat down, the congregation sang a song he didn't recognize, but Katie's clear alto harmony was like her—sweet and pretty. He had to figure out a way to get her alone so he could give her the bridle.
    When church was finally over, he stood at the back meeting his grandfather's friends, but he kept an eye on Katie. She stayed beside Lance who talked to everyone on his slow procession toward the back. Finally, Lance stopped to talk to the young preacher, close enough for Katie's voice to reach.
    "I'll get my purse out of the car, Lance," she said.
    Lance smiled at her from his gangly height. "I need to talk to Will for just a minute about the job tomorrow and then I'll meet you at my car."
    She made her way outside. He fetched the sack with the bridle from his pickup then stepped up behind her as she slammed the door of her father's station wagon. The sun shone on her glossy hair and it smelled like flowers. She turned, purse in hand.
    He grinned. "Hi."
    She glanced uneasily toward the church. "What do you want?"
    He held out the paper bag. "This's for you."
    "What is it?"
    "A peace