Free An Angel for Dry Creek by Janet Tronstad Page B

she’d felt the pieces click in her heart. Matthew as a minister made sense. “But that’s not why I’m asking. I just want to know what you think.”
    Matthew leaned back. He tried to separate what he believed from what he’d trained himself to believe. When he was a minister, he’d chased away any question, any doubt. He believed in confidence. Now he was just Matthew.
    â€œYes,” Matthew finally said. “Yes, I think they must envy us. We can have babies.”
    Glory smiled. “I never thought of that.”
    Matthew caught his breath. He was grateful for the shadows that hid him in the small room. She was beautiful when she smiled. Like a Botticelli goddess.
    â€œWhat’s it like?” Glory asked quietly, and startled Matthew. For a second he thought she was reading his mind; then he realized she was talking about babies. “When you had the twins,” she continued. “What was it like?”
    â€œLike winning the World Series.”
    â€œI thought it might be something like that,” she said. “I envy you.”
    â€œSomeday you’ll know what I mean,” Matthew said. The picture of Glory with a baby glowed warm inside of him. He bet the little thing would have milk-white skin and red hair. “It’s like no other feeling. I can’t even describe it. You’ll just have to wait and see for yourself.”
    â€œI guess so,” Glory agreed. She didn’t want to tell him that there was no point in waiting—she knew she’dnever have a baby. The accident had snatched that dream away from her. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he’d understand. He’d obviously known pain in his life. Maybe he’d understand too well. She just didn’t want to see pity fill his eyes when he looked at her. And what else could he feel but pity? That’s one of the reasons she’d avoided becoming close to men. She didn’t want to see that look in the eyes of someone she loved.
    â€œWill you have more babies?” Glory asked, and then hurried on at the surprised look on Matthew face. “I mean, if you remarried, would you want to have more children?”
    â€œChildren are the trump card in life. I’d have as many as I could.”
    Glory nodded. That was good. It was as it should be. He was a good father. His sons were good. It was all very good. It just didn’t include anyone like her. “I’d like to go look for that garland now.”
    Matthew watched the light leave Glory’s face. She put the cardboard wings under her arm and headed for the door. He had no choice but to follow.
    The cold air hit Glory in the face and pinched the color out of her cheeks. It was only a hundred feet between the door to the hardware store and the door to the church, but it felt as if the few steps iced her to the soul. She needed to stop thinking about babies that would never be born. Her guilt was over. Her mother had forgiven her. God had forgiven her. Some days she’d even managed to forgive herself. It was over. She needed to stop grieving.
    The smell of coffee greeted her when she stepped back into the warmth of the hardware store. Elmer and Jacob were still arguing.
    â€œHeard them federal boys are going to close in on the rustlers now that they figured it isn’t just happening here,” Jacob insisted.
    Elmer waved the words away. “They aren’t even close. They don’t know how. Why or when. What’ve they got? Nothing.”
    â€œThey’ll find them at the inspection plants, now that they’re requiring papers before they grade the meat,” Jacob said almost fiercely. “They’ll find them. They’ve got to.”
    Elmer opened his mouth and then saw Glory. His mouth hung open for a full minute before it formed into an excited oval. He turned to Jacob and gummed his mouth several times before he got the words out. “Blazes, why didn’t we