Free A Home at Trail's End by Melody A. Carlson Page A

mercantile.” She smiled. “Should be right handsome.”
    â€œOur town is coming together, isn’t it?” Elizabeth said. “The mercantile and the blacksmith…the school and church. We’re off to a fine start.”
    Flo frowned. “Speaking of the church…” She lowered her voice. “Bert flat-out refuses to go no more. Now Ezra won’t go neither.”
    â€œOh?” Elizabeth exchanged glances with her mother.
    â€œWhy is that?” Clara asked quietly.
    â€œBert says he doesn’t need to give up Sunday mornings just to be yelled at by Reverend Holmes.”
    Elizabeth pressed her lips together. She was not overly fond of the reverend’s fiery sermons either. At first she’d kept her opinion to herself, but eventually she mentioned it to her parents. Asa had reminded her that sometimes preachers went through a season of fire and brimstone, but perhaps it would pass in time. As a result, they’d all decided to wait and see.
    â€œI must agree that the reverend’s words can be strong,” Clara admitted.
    â€œI defended him at first,” Flo told her. “But I’m of a mind to agree with Ezra now. And I hear tell that some other menfolk are quitting the church too.”
    â€œOh, dear.” Clara shook her head. “That’s a shame.”
    â€œThe only reason I’m burdening you folks with this is that Bert keeps talking about how much he misses Asa’s Sunday services back when we were journeying here.”
    Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, I miss them too.”
    Flo looked eagerly at her. “Bert says if Asa was the preacher, he’d gladly come to church.”
    Clara frowned. “Well, Reverend Holmes is the appointed preacher. Asa can’t possibly replace him.”
    â€œI know.” Flo sighed and then looked over her shoulder as if worried someone was listening. “But we thought maybe Asa could hold church services somewhere else.”
    â€œYou mean have two churches in our little town?” Clara looked troubled.
    â€œIt don’t have to be in town. Maybe in somebody’s home…or a barn. I recall that party out in Malinda’s barn. It could surely house a church meeting, don’t you think?”
    â€œWell, that would be up to Malinda,” Elizabeth said.
    â€œAnd Asa,” Clara added.
    â€œWell, I’d be much obliged if you folks would give it your consideration.”
    So before returning to the mercantile, they promised to speak to Asa about the situation. Elizabeth felt sorry for Flo’s dilemma, but she wasn’t certain that Asa starting a church was the answer. If anything it seemed it would divide the community. She remembered a similar situation on the wagon train. But that had been different—or at least it had seemed so back then. While traveling, they had been a temporary community with numerous Sunday worship services throughout their wagon train. As a result, it hadn’t seemed a problem to have more than one group of worshippers in their unit. However, when Mrs. Taylor’s husband died so tragically on the trail, Elizabeth regretted not having spent more time getting to know him…or to understand him.
    On the ride back to Malinda’s, Elizabeth sat in the front of the wagon with her parents. Together they discussed the situation. “I’m well aware that Bert Flanders isn’t the only one who’s unhappy with the church,” Asa quietly told them. “To be honest, I’m not overly fond of anger from the pulpit.”
    â€œWhy do some preachers feel such a need to shout and carry on like that?” Elizabeth asked him.
    He shrugged. “Hard to say. But when I prepare to give a sermon, I usually feel like I’m preaching more at myself than anyone else.” He chuckled. “I s’pect if I was in need of chastising I would stand up and yell from the pulpit too.”
    Clara patted his hand.