Free When the Heart Heals by Ann Shorey Page B

mugs.”
    Rosemary lifted the box and carried it indoors, remembering with a pang the elegant scented soaps her mother made as gifts. She wondered whether she’d approve of Rosemary’s intention to sell one of her recipes as a shaving compound.
    She pictured a shelf in the mercantile filled with soaps, herbal teas, and tinctures. In no time, she’d compensate for the loss of income from Dr. Stewart.

    On Sunday, Rosemary tucked her arm under Jolene’s as they walked to the end of the block and crossed the street to the church. Reverend French stood at the top of the stone steps greeting his flock while the bell pealed from the steeple atop the square brick building. When they approached, he descended to the lawn and bowed in their direction.
    â€œMiss Rosemary. Always a pleasure.” His thick eyebrows raised in inquiry. “Who is your guest today?”
    She introduced Jolene and smiled through the reverend’s welcoming words. She’d never known anyone with such an ability to put people at ease. She sensed the tension leaving Jolene’s body.
    A younger man, his face a duplicate of Reverend French’s, stepped next to them. His empty left sleeve was pinned up at the elbow. The reverend took his good arm. “Miss Graves, this is my son Galen. He teaches at the academy with Miss Rosemary’s brother.”
    Galen’s eyes brightened. “Happy to know you, Miss Graves. Will you be visiting our area for very long?”
    Jolene’s face flamed. “I . . . I’m not sure.” She turned a frantic gaze on Rosemary. “Shouldn’t we go in?”
    Rosemary squeezed her arm. “Certainly.”
    Once inside, she scanned the pews. “There they are.” She nodded her head in the direction of her brother and Faith, sitting next to Judge Lindberg.
    When Faith noticed them, she patted an empty space on the seat beside her. After a whispered introduction between the judge and Jolene, Rosemary settled next to her sister-in-law.
    At the front of the sanctuary, Clarissa French, the reverend’s wife, stroked the keys of a piano. The hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy” rose over the sound of worshipers’ footsteps entering the building.
    Faith poked Rosemary in the side. “Look,” she whispered, pointing discreetly at a pew in front of them where Sheriff Cooper sat with Amy Dunsmuir. Although she couldn’t see the child over the couple’s shoulders, Rosemary knew Amy held her young daughter on her lap. Faith leaned close to Rosemary’s ear. “He’s at the house nearly every night. Amy seems happy with him, but needless to say, Curt’s not thrilled.”
    â€œAs long as the sheriff has stopped trying to arrest him, he can relax.” They smiled at each other, remembering their campaign to clear Curt’s name after a robbery at the mercantile.
    A husky man with curly hair walked past, apparently seeking an empty seat. Rosemary sucked in a breath. “Do you know who that is?”
    Faith nodded. “The doctor. I’ve never seen him here before.”
    They watched while he entered a pew close to the front. “Wonders will never cease,” Rosemary said. “Maybe he’ll—”
    Reverend French faced the congregation and motioned for everyone to stand while his wife played the introduction to “My Faith Looks Up to Thee.” Out of the corner of her eye, Rosemary watched Dr. Stewart fumble through a hymnbook seeking the song. Her heart gave an unexpected twist. If she were standing beside him, she’d show him the place. She blinked, surprised at the direction her thoughts had taken.
    Jolene’s hand on her arm broke her reverie. “Sometimes Ma and Pa took us to church in Hartfield. I’m glad you brought me here today,” she said in a soft voice.
    â€œSo am I.” She’d done the right thing in God’s eyes. That’s all that mattered.
    When Clarissa left