“You’re getting there,” he said. “But I can see that you need more time. You shouldn’t just blindly trust people. You’re right about that, but I’m also right when I say that I’m going to earn your trust fair and square.”

She couldn’t help but admire his determination. It was well matched to her stubbornness. “We’ll see about that,” she said with a poorly disguised grin.

“Oh, we will.” He winked at her, and she wasn’t sure why. “For starters, I want you to know that our talk the other day didn’t fall on deaf ears. I had it out with my sister.”

This surprised her. What could Nolan possibly have to gain by confronting Megan? How would it help anything?

“She remembers putting you through hell and says she’s very sorry.”

Harmony let out a sarcastic laugh. She just couldn’t help it.

“I know. Likely story, right? Except she did seem genuinely apologetic, and she even asked if she could meet with you in person to say sorry.”

Static pricked at the hairs on Harmony’s arms. “Nolan! You didn’t invite her to the restaurant, did you?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that. She doesn’t even know you’re working here. I told her I’d ask you along to the Eternal Grace Church picnic later this month, and if you agreed she could apologize then and there. Gives you some time to think and prepare. Although I do hope you’ll say yes.”

“Yes,” Harmony said without hesitation.

His eyes lit up and a smile began to creep from one cheek to the other.

“Yes, I’ll think about it,” she clarified. “Not yes I’ll go. That has yet to be determined.”

“Fair enough,” he said, slapping his hand on the hood of her car and then bending forward to open her driver’s side door. “Now let’s get you home. If we stand here chit-chatting any longer, I’m afraid I’ll be late for my practice.”

Harmony reached up and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you for being my friend,” she said. “I know it’s not easy, but I’m glad you’re up for the challenge.”

Nolan cleared his throat and squeezed her tight. “I sure am,” he agreed. “I sure am.”

Chapter 25

Pastor Adam

Our spring potluck arrived just as the daffodils that lined the church flowerbeds had begun to unfurl their happy yellow petals to greet the season. Mrs. Clementine had planted them as one of her first acts when she took up the role as church secretary, and every season I was grateful to see them, seeing as they heralded warmer weather as well as the anniversary of our Lord and Savior’s resurrection.

Last autumn she’d elected to remove the vegetable patch in favor of more flowers, and to say I was grateful would be an understatement of biblical proportions. I much preferred the pretty tulips that had taken the cucumbers’ and tomatoes’ places, and we had far fewer critters who showed up to wreak havoc on the brightly colored flowers.