“Good morning,” the clergyman said, still smiling. His smile was a good sign, especially in light of Amala’s memory of the terrible scowl on the vicar’s face when he’d spoken to her so harshly.

“Good morning,” Henry replied.

“It’s a beautiful day to honor loved ones here,” the man added, nodding toward the gravestone by which Henry and Amala were standing.

“It is indeed,” Henry said, mildly cautious but kind.

“I should introduce myself,” the man said, holding out his hand toward Henry in a genuinely friendly gesture. “I’m Mr. Reynolds, the new vicar here.”

“New?” Henry echoed, and Amala wondered if he felt the same hope as she did.

“Yes, our previous vicar and his family were transferred to a new location, one that our superiors felt might be better suited to him.”

Amala exchanged a brief glance with Henry, and she felt relatively certain that he too was wondering if the vicar’s hypocrisy might have finally been noticed by his superiors. She felt certain that his disdain toward her was likely of no concern to them, since it was a generally accepted attitude that she was of an inferior race. But they had seen much evidence of their prior vicar exhibiting hypocritical and less-than-Christian attitudes about many things.

“I see,” Henry said. “And how are you liking it here so far?”

“My wife and I like it very much,” Mr. Reynolds said with enthusiasm. “Although,” he chuckled, “I dare say some of the congregation will find that adjusting to . . . shall we say . . . my style . . . of the work I do . . . somewhat challenging.”

Without allowing time for any questions regarding this comment, Mr. Reynolds looked at Amala, and his smile broadened, then he spoke to both of them in a way that Amala appreciated. Often when people spoke to them, they mostly disregarded Amala as if she were not present.

“I must be completely honest and admit that I know who you are.” He tipped his head toward Kat’s gravestone as if knowing the family connection had made their identity clear—but there was no other man in his congregation with an Indian wife, and he’d surely heard all about them. But exactly what he’d heard—and from whom—was impossible to know. “I’ve been wanting to come and visit your family and get to know you better, but I confess that we’re trying to visit every family in order to become better acquainted, and we just haven’t gotten very far yet.”

He paused to catch his breath and smiled again, but Amala sensed he was gathering resolve for what he would say next. She prayed it wasn’t something that would dash her hopes for a better relationship with this vicar as opposed to the trauma that had been caused for her and Henry by his predecessor.