Free Lady Jasmine by Victoria Christopher Murray Page B

said, “You know, being a pastor’s wife isn’t easy. No matter how clean you are, there’s always something that could come out.”
    She frowned. “What does that mean?”
    He shrugged. “It’s not an easy life, but it’s what my wife and I have been called to do.”
    Jasmine searched his face, trying to see his true thoughts. Then, “I’m going to find my husband.”
    “And when you find him, talk to him,” he said. Even though she was walking away, he added, “Hosea may not realize it yet, but sitting in his father’s chair is a big job, too big for him.”Before the elevator doors closed the last thing she heard was, “I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”
     
    It took her almost fifteen minutes to find him, but when she saw Hosea, sitting at the cafeteria table, with his eyes staring into a cup of coffee, she knew something was wrong.
    She slid onto the bench next to him. “Hey, babe.”
    He looked up with glassy eyes.
    She had to remind herself that she’d just seen Reverend Bush—and he was alive. But the way Hosea looked still made her heart strike hard against her chest. “What’s wrong?”
    “They’ve got to operate,” he said softly.
    “For what?”
    “Doctor Lewis said that Pops has been intubated for two weeks, and they don’t like to keep people with a tube down their throat for that long, so”—he took a deep breath—“now they have to put in a tracheostomy tube.”
    “What’s that?”
    She could see his thoughts as his face contorted. “They’re going to cut a hole in his throat and then put a tube in to go to the trachea.”
    The image of that made her want to run to the restroom. But she pushed the picture in her mind aside and lifted Hosea’s hand to her mouth. She kissed his fingers before she said, “That doesn’t sound too bad.”
    For the first time, he looked directly at her. Shook his head and smiled a little. “You’re not a good liar.”
    “What I should have said was, I’m sure the doctors know what they’re doing. Some of the best in the country are here.”
    He nodded and glanced at his watch. “Doctor Lewis said that she’d have the papers for me to sign. They should be ready.” He stood. “But I want to go to Pops’s room and pray first.” Taking Jasmine’s hand, he pulled her up.
    All right, she thought as they walked shoulder to shoulder through the halls. This was not what she’d expected today, but she had no doubt that Reverend Bush would make it through fine. They just had to do what they always did—they had to get back to that room and pray.

TWELVE
    T HE TALL WHITE FELT HAT was trimmed with lace and pearls and felt a bit heavy, but since it perfectly matched the two-piece form-fitting suit with bell sleeves, Jasmine wasn’t about to take it off. Hats had never been her thing. Neither were calf-length skirts. But she was a first lady now.
    Holding on to Brother Hill’s arm as she stepped through the door from the back offices, she glided into the sanctuary as if she were royalty. She tugged a bit at the waist of the skirt, deciding it needed to be a tad shorter to better display two of her best assets.
    The suit was dazzling—a bright white silk that almost glowed in the sunlight. It was a bit thin for the thirty-something February temperature, but Jasmine didn’t care. She’d ignored the personal shopper at Saks who told her, “This is a fabulous summer suit.”
    Fabulous was her focus. This was a spectacular outfit for her debut.
    Jasmine pretended that she didn’t notice Brother Hill’s scowl as he led her to her seat. She wanted to tell him to straighten up and get right, but she only smiled. No one would know that she couldn’t stand him as much as he couldn’t stand her. Herparishioners would see only class and grace and elegance when they looked at her.
    It had been Hosea’s idea that his godfather escort her into the sanctuary. She’d wanted to walk out with her husband, but he’d told her that was