Free An Angel for Dry Creek by Janet Tronstad

It’s not even heated, just a big old cement block. You can’t put someone in there in winter!”
    â€œWell, it’s not my first choice. But since you’re too good to have the likes of Fred as a minister, I guess I don’t have any other options now, do I?”
    â€œThe voters won’t like this.”
    The deputy shrugged. “I tried to be reasonable. I’m sure Fred mentioned he was willing to read the Bible and get an idea of what the thing was all about. On-the-job training, so to speak. But no, you need to have someone who believes the whole thing. It’s not too late. Fred’s probably at home right now. We can call him and make the deal,” he added smugly. “Remember, no minister means the angel goes to jail.”
    â€œBut…” Mrs. Hargrove struggled to speak. “This is outrageous!”
    â€œNo minister means the angel goes to jail,” the deputy repeated stubbornly.
    â€œI’m a minister,” Matthew said softly. It was freezing outside and still a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead. “At least, according to the state. Marrying, burying—I can do all those. I expect I can keep my eye on an angel.”
    â€œYou’re a what?” The deputy looked skeptical.
    â€œA minister.” Matthew had a sinking feeling. He shouldn’t have said anything. But he couldn’t stand the thought of Glory spending time in that jail.
    â€œYou had a church?”
    â€œYes, in Havre.”
    â€œWell, why aren’t you preaching here? We could use a minister at the church,” the deputy persisted. “Even Fred would give way to a real preacher.”
    â€œI don’t preach anymore,” Matthew said evenly. His breath was shallow, but he was plowing his way through. He couldn’t let his annoyance flare. Not if he wanted the deputy to cooperate.
    â€œWhat? You retired from it?”
    â€œIn a way.”
    â€œMighty young to be retired.”
    â€œMost people change jobs over a lifetime.”
    â€œBut ministers?” the deputy asked, puzzled. “I’ve never known a minister to just quit his job before.”
    â€œWell, now you do,” Matthew snapped. “Just let me know what I need to do to supervise the ang—I mean, Glory, and I’ll do it.”
    â€œSee, we do have a minister,” Mrs. Hargrove said triumphantly. “God provides.”
    â€œWell, God isn’t providing much,” the deputy said as he nodded toward Matthew. “But I suppose it’ll be all right.” The deputy admitted defeat grudgingly. “I’lljust write that ticket and you can set her up with some worthwhile community service. She works off the fine. If she messes up, she pays the fine. Simple. I’ll check in later this week.”
    â€œCommunity service?” Matthew asked in surprise. “Doing what? All our roads are snowpacked. We don’t have a jail. Or a library. Not even a post office. We don’t need anything done.”
    â€œExcept,” Mrs. Hargrove interrupted hesitantly, “we do need an angel for the Christmas pageant.”
    â€œAh, yes, the pageant.” Matthew sighed. Odd how this pageant had grown so big in the minds of everyone this year. Several of the churches in Miles City had decided to send a few visitors to Dry Creek for the annual Christmas Eve pageant. It all sounded very friendly. But Matthew knew enough about churches to know what was happening. A few do-gooders in Miles City had asked a handful of single people, likely mostly widows, to visit Dry Creek on Christmas Eve and they’d accepted, feeling righteous. No doubt it was a gracious way for the churches to deliver food baskets to some of the poorer families in Dry Creek. But even after they hosted their pageant, Matthew doubted the people of Dry Creek would accept charity. The people of Dry Creek were proud and they’d get by on their own or not at all. Food baskets