Free A Sounding Brass by Shelley Bates

own bank account soon, Rebecca wasn’t going to get her rent check.
    “It’s not confidence,” Luke told her. “It’s faith. God has always provided for me beyond my wildest imaginings, as long as
     I let Him do the leading. I mean, look at you. Half an hour after you walk out of the bank, you see our need for an accountant,
     and there you are on the doorstep. If that isn’t God’s work, I don’t know what is.”
    Claire wasn’t used to thinking of God in those terms. The Elect didn’t believe that prayer should be used for everyday things.
     Prayer was for special occasions, like the good china. Tidal waves taking out entire cities. Earthquakes. Wars. You could
     pray for people in those circumstances, but you’d certainly never pray that God would send you an accountant, or success in
     your business ventures. That was . . . selfish. And everyone knew that selfish prayers came to a bad end—unless you were praying
     for the cure of some kind of spiritual defect in yourself. Claire prayed for willingness on a daily basis—willingness to sacrifice
     her vanity and put on yet another black blouse. Willingness to stay in Hamilton Falls and believe that she was needed there.
     Willingness to smile at Alma Woods and ask about her health without noticing that critical up-and-down gaze that always made
     her feel as if she had a run in her black stockings.
    “Yes, but how do you tell the difference between coincidence and the answer to a prayer?” She forked up the last of the sweet-and-sour
     sauce onto her rice.
    “Timing.” Luke reached for the teapot and filled the little handle-less cup in front of her. “God operates on a different
     schedule than we want Him to, sometimes, but He definitely operates. For instance, getting back to change in the Elect, look
     at how He sent me just when Phinehas was arrested and Shepherds all over the state are paralyzed because they don’t know what
     to do. Is that perfect timing or what?”
    “How did you find us, Luke?”
    He smiled at her again, and something inside her melted. That was the smile she had wanted turned on her from the first time
     she’d seen him, and now there it was. Did that count as an answered prayer?
    “The Elect aren’t that hard to find in Washington . . . especially when a person has grown up inside and knows to look for
     the marks of Christ. I moved here a few months ago trying to find the peace I’d lost running a huge ministry in a big city.
     The radio station needed a shot in the arm, and I had a business plan they couldn’t resist. Then God led me to Owen in the
     bookstore. We got to talking and before I knew it, he invited me for supper. He sure has a great little family.”
    “Everyone loves the Blanchards. I just wish Madeleine would get better.”
    “That’s in the hands of God. Anyway, four or five hours later I felt as though I’d known the man my whole life, and the rest
     is history.”
    “If you can induce change in the Elect,
that
will make history. I know you cautioned us about Phinehas’s leadership, but people still count their appearance as part of
     their salvation.”
    “We’ll see how God is able to work in their hearts. Owen agrees with me, and he’s the closest thing we have to a leader right
     now. Whatever happens, God’s will is going to be done, isn’t it?”
    The bill came, and before she could make a grab for it, he’d handed over his credit card to the waitress without even glancing
     at the total. “This is your official ‘welcome to the staff’ lunch,” he said by way of explanation. Which was fine. It wasn’t
     as though it was a date or anything.
    Once they were back outside, he put both hands on his hips and surveyed Main Street the way Alexander the Great must have
     surveyed the Indus Valley. “This is a great town. God’s going to do great things here.”
    “I’m sure He— Hey, isn’t that—”
    Claire craned her neck. She’d seen that sleek, granite-gray truck before. In