Free Fallen Angels by Patricia Hickman

blurted, “I told you I'd have everything solved, Jeb Nubey. You just keep quiet and keep your head about you and we'll have us a meal ticket for a day or two until we figure what we should do next.”
    “They think I'm a preacher! You don't see nothing wrong with that?”
    “I watched the preacher back at Snow Hill. They talk seldom and when they do, they just say things like ‘Bless you, child. God love you and keep you.’ Stuff like that.”
    “They called me Reverend Gracie. What if this man they been waiting on shows up today? Here: I don't have my truck, my gun, or my hat to make my getaway. I'll be trapped in some hick town jail with three runaways and nothing to show for it except a piece of old Mrs. Honeybaker's pie.”
    “Honeysack. You got to be good at names. That is a fact.” Angel opened the rear door of the church. “Look at that, will you? We was not a hop and a skip from that house last night. Here we were holed up on hard old pews. I'm, eating my fill then I'm sleeping on a cloud tonight. My own bed. I never had one to myself.”
    “You don't hear a thing I'm telling you. We can't stay. They're looking for a real widowed minister and his three, well-behaved children. We don't fit the bill.”
    “You ain't got nothing to your name, not a cent, and here you are complaining about what the Lord done give you. Me, I'm thanking him for all He has done.” Angel kneeled on the lawn. She brought her hands together at her chin and closed her eyes.
    “Get yourself up. Don't be making a spectacle like that,” said Jeb.
    “Oh, Evelene, would you look at that sweet angel!” Mellie, who still held Ida May's hand, turned red around her plum-shaped cheeks. “Praying right here on the lawn and thanking Jesus. Yes, Lord, we all thank you for your blessings.” Mellie pulled a white cotton handkerchief from out of her bosom. In front of her, she made an invisible bow shape with the scarf, waving it in the breeze like a ship's signal. “And for little Idy May.”
    “Sweet Lord, Reverend!” said Evelene. “You've done well with your ducklings in spite of not having a wife around. If you can get a young one to bow her knee to God, you'll have no worries with her when she's grown. I have to say, though, they all in need of some womanly grooming. You don't mind if we take them out to the washtub, do you?” Evelene grabbed Willie by the shoulders.
    “Tell her no, Jeb,” said Angel. She came off of one knee.
    “Thank you, Sister Whittington. This biggest one, she needs it the worst, I'm afraid.” Jeb bent and took Angel by the shoulders. “Bath time, Biggest.”
    “I got some good-smelling stuff you'll like. What is your name, girl?” Evelene asked Angel.
    “This is Angel,” said Jeb. “Angel, kindly go here with Mrs. Evelene. Mind your manners while you're at it.”
    “This is one I'm not worried about, Reverend Gracie. I hope you don't think I'm bein’ too fussy. I never had nothing but boys. I love making over girls. You know, Angel, your name fits you to a T.”
    “I don't need no help bathing.” Angel made a wide arc around Evelene.
    “Please, let old Ev fix you up, curl your hair. I have a dress once belonged to one of my nieces. Pretty white collar. Petticoat.”
    “I'm not one for petticoats, Mrs. Whittington, if you don't mind. I guess you know the first thing I have to do is get my sister, Ida May, fed. After that, I'll go out later and wash myself.”
    “Ida May's inside eating. Why Mellie, she done fixed her up a plate of chicken and a glass of milk. I can tell you been having to care for your little sister. Now you got us to help.”
    Jeb watched as Evelene, with her long, plump arms, wrestled Angel into a tight clutch. Evelene laughed in a pleased manner and her eyes squinted. She looked pretty and giddy all at the same time.
    “Angel, you know you got all your nice things stole. You let Mrs. Evelene fix you up with some of her pretty things.”
    Jeb saw Angel's antipathy for him