“How is she?” I asked when Mrs. Clementine didn’t immediately offer up the information I sought.

“She’s still sleeping upstairs will little Muffin,” she whispered. “Whatever happened to that poor child?”

I shook my head. “She only seems like a child because we’re getting so old these days, but I do remember her when she was in school. That was before you’d joined our congregation. Almost ten years ago.”

“She’s very well mannered.” She dropped her voice a couple of notches before continuing on. “But I’m afraid if I even raise my voice too loud in surprise she’ll wind up cowering in the corner.”

I couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped me. “Harmony was never one to back away from a fight and I doubt that’s changed now, but still, I don’t like hearing how plainly she wears her pain.”

“Actually, I think it’s the pain that wears her.” A soft tinkling of wind chimes sounded on Mrs. Clementine’s end of the conversation, and I pictured her sitting on her back porch with a hot mug of tea in her hands. Morning was the only time she deigned to drink it warm. Tea, she always said, was meant to be served iced cold and with a good pound of sugar. I could scarcely argue with logic like that.

I fired up the coffeemaker for myself so I could join her with a beverage on my end of the line. “God brought her back into our lives for a reason, but I haven’t figured out what that reason is just yet.”

She laughed at my feeble attempts to understand the problems of a young woman like Harmony. “You mean God hasn’t shown you yet. Honestly, Pastor Elliott, sometimes I wonder if it shouldn’t be me up there giving the sermons each Sunday. You have a way of getting so deep in your meddling that you forget to wait for God to show His hand.”

“And you, Mrs. Clementine, never hesitate to call me out.”

She clucked and I could picture her sitting up straight with pride in her wicker chair. “Well, goodness, somebody’s gotta do it. Might as well be me.”

We chattered about church business for a few moments before saying goodbye. As hard as it was, Mrs. Clementine was absolutely right. The only thing we could do for Harmony now was to wait.

Wait and pray.

And add a little love, too, while we were at it.

Chapter 11

Harmony

Harmony woke up much later than usual the next day, and in those precious first moments between sleep and consciousness, she lost all recollection of the events that had taken place the day before. Her heart picked up speed as she opened her eyes, then relaxed again when the memories came rushing back.

Muffin, of course, was there to lick the corners of her eyes and the insides of her ears, whining with joy as he did.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” she said, patting the dog on the head and offering him a weary smile.