Free Sundown by Jade Laredo Page B

introduction, but the couple smiled up at her in greeting as if they had known her all her life.
    Just then, Parson Hanly stepped up to the podium.  His warm eyes roved over the room, pausing briefly before opening his bible.  On cue, the congregation took to their seats as he shuffled through a few pages before finding the passage he had been looking for.
    “If everyone would open your scripture to Ecclesiastes, chapter three, verse one through eight.”  The Parson requested, waiting for the congregation to catch up.  He cleared his throat before commencing to read.   Parson Hanly finally finished the long and tedious passage.  He looked up from his bible and scanned the silent room with a smile.  His eyes drew narrow when he raised his hand and pointed toward the ceiling.
    “God is speaking to all of us .” He motioned, stepping away from the p odium he began to paraphrase.   “ To everything there is a season, to every purpose under heaven.”
    Descending the pulpit, he began to walk toward the center aisle his footsteps heavy with moderation.  Stopping beside an old man at the end of the aisle, he rested his hand on his shoulder. 
    “My friends.”  He spoke quietly.  “We suffer, some more than others, but we bear the cross don’t we?”
    In unison, there was a round of encouragement. 
    Parson Hanly lifted his hand and continued down the aisle.
    “Who doesn’t want to laugh, or dance?”  He smiled, placing his hands behind his back.  Arabella watched as he turned around and paused before her aisle, letting his gaze travel to each person seated, until he rested his placid gaze on her.
    “Or dare I say it … who wants to love?”
    This time there was a delighted round of laughter.  The Parson lifted his chin, and turned to the other aisle.  For the first time, she caught his stare.  Bray Hanly sat in the same aisle, staring at her with hooded eyes, his expression cloaked under a mask of bleak derision.
    “But.”  The Parson lifted his voice, narrowing his gaze at his own family.  Smiling at Jenny Hanly, he continued.  “When we choose the hate festering inside us, it leaves us lacking the love God gave us.  It prevents us from a time to heal, or a time to embrace.”
    He stood for a moment, silent in his contemplation.  Turning on his heel, he wandered back toward the pulpit, and picked up his bible.
    “I must confess.”  He lifted his voice and shook his head.  “I spent my entire evening, contemplating these passages.  After much reflection, I realized God recognizes man’s weakness.  He does not spurn us.  Instead, he encourages us to sustain throughout our darkest hours.  We must learn to let go of these things, which weigh us down, life’s unpleasantry and bitter disappointment.  We must overcome by learning to forgive those who have maligned us, and most of all, that which we must forgive within ourselves.”
    Parson Hanly bowed his head. 
    “Let us pray before we begin in chorus.”
    Arabella watched the entire congregation lower their heads save for one.  Bray Hanly stared toward the pulpit, his stolid gaze an unreadable mask while his brother prayed amongst the flock.  Finally, he pulled his attention away, turning his absorbing gaze upon her.  Not expecting his perusal, she quickly bowed her head and closed her eyes.  Feeling her heart skip a beat, she bit her lip and scolded herself for her strange meddling fascination with the Hanly family.
     
    After Sunday service, Arabella had the chance to chat with the Coffees before making haste for their wagon where her father stood patiently.
    “Wade, Lydia, and Lena are waiting for you.”
    Wyeth nodded his head. 
    “You sure you’re all right riding there by yourself?”
    Arabella laughed. 
    “I’ve been handling a rig since I was knee-high.  You’re the one who taught me, don’t you remember?”
    Wyeth tried to smile, but concern etched the corners of his green eyes. 
    “Sundown is much different