Free Murder at the Courthouse by A. H. Gabhart Page A

who knows where the Lord might call her next? A preacher has to listen to the Lord’s calling, whether that preacher is a he or she.” Aunt Lindy poked Michael’s chest with a bony finger. “The Lord, on the other hand, has brought you back to Hidden Springs for a reason.”
    â€œIf that’s true, he hasn’t let me in on the secret.” Michael stepped back before she could jab him with her finger again.
    â€œHe will. In his own time.” Her eyes narrowed with determination. “You young people are always in such a hurry you forget to notice what the good Lord is doing in your life. The Lord wants you right here in Hidden Springs.”
    Michael knew when to give up arguing with her. Instead, he had smiled. “You should have gotten married and had kids of your own. They couldn’t have helped being pioneers.”
    â€œThere was a man once a long time ago.” The sadness that had flashed across her face stopped Michael’s teasing. “He got killed in the service, and I suppose I never really gave anyone else a chance after that. But make no mistake, I do know what love is supposed to be, Michael, and I don’t want you settling for anything less, simply because it’s convenient.”
    Now Michael got out of his cruiser and slammed his door. The noise brought Aunt Lindy to the front door. He wasn’t really surprised to see her there. She’d want to know what was going on, but she would never stoop to listening to rumors. Michael thought about Paul Osgood ordering him not to discuss the case with anyone, but Michael didn’t know anything to tell her the rest of the town didn’t already know anyway.
    Michael’s black Labrador appeared out of the night to bang into him. Every time he came home, Jasper greeted him as if he carried a dozen dog biscuits in his pockets, and every time it lifted Michael’s spirits.
    Tonight he rubbed Jasper’s ears a couple of extra times just because he knew it would aggravate Aunt Lindy. Then with a grin, he went on up the three steps and across the wooden porch. He and Aunt Lindy were the ones who struck sparks off one another like steel on steel, and he wasn’t sure which of them enjoyed it the most.

10
    Aunt Lindy offered her cheek up to Michael for a kiss. “Dog got paw prints on your uniform again.”
    â€œWhat can I say? He likes me.” Michael brushed at the dirt on his pants. “And his name’s Jasper.”
    Aunt Lindy pretended not to hear. She failed to find it amusing that Michael had named his dog after their town-founding ancestor, Jasper Keane, so she simply refused to acknowledge the dog’s name. Jasper didn’t mind. He loved Aunt Lindy only second to Michael. Not that he piled into her the way he did Michael. The dog would slide to a stop several feet away from Aunt Lindy, then slowly approach her with his tail madly flapping back and forth and his whole body quivering in anticipation of a pat on the head or any word of greeting Aunt Lindy might care to give him.
    Now, without saying anything more, Aunt Lindy watched Michael unbuckle his holster belt and hang it on the hook just inside the door. While he always shed his gun as soon as he got home, tonight he felt doubly relieved to have the weight of the weapon gone.
    Some of that feeling must have shown on his face, because Aunt Lindy asked, “You are all right, aren’t you, Michael?”
    Michael smiled down at her. She was so small, only a couple of inches over five feet, and just as her manner was always contained, so was her appearance. Years ago she must have looked in her mirror and decided beauty was not within her grasp so she had given up any pursuit of it. Yet the passing years had stolen none of the intensity of her blue eyes and had given her a certain dignity that was perhaps better than the fleeting beauty of youth.
    â€œI’m fine, Aunt Lindy.” Michael touched her arm.