Our church yard wasn’t enormous, but we still insisted on having a picnic there at the change of each season and invited not just our whole congregation, but the entire town of Charleston.

Some folks came to eat and run, and that was just fine by me. Others lingered inside, while the more adventurous set up blankets outdoors where they could enjoy our newly awakened gardens.

This was to be my grandson’s first spring potluck, seeing as he was born at the end of the season the year prior. He’d be walking any day now, too. Gavin and Abigail were all too proud to show him off to the folks that were ECP churchgoers—that’s Easter, Christmas, Potluck—and they all gushed and gushed over his cuteness.

Rightfully so, I might add.

Yes, Gavin and Abigail made quite the beautiful couple. It wasn’t just their faces that looked good together, but their hearts matched, too. Hallelujah, the Lord is good!

Mama Mary stayed glued to Abigail’s side as she always did, but the younger church dogs roamed freely about the lot to greet our guests and beg for scraps. We placed several signs around the yard reminding folks not to feed the Chihuahuas but still, I suspect their tummies ended up full and well fed all the same.

One of the dogs bounded up to me and began to whine and scratch at my shins. It took me a moment to realize it was our working-on-location church dog, Muffin. Which meant…

“Harmony!” I cried the moment I saw her and stretched my arms wide to saddle her with a hug. I’d had a few weeks to get accustomed to her new hairstyle now, and it had grown on me. “I’m so happy you came.”

“Well, you can thank this guy,” she said with a half-smile, bumping her shoulder into Nolan Murphy’s arm.

I turned to the tall chap and offered him a smile since his hands appeared to full to join me in a shake. “Nolan, it’s good to see you, too.”

“I brought some grits and sausage for the spread,” he said, lifting up a crock pot that he’d carried over with him.

“Tables are over there under the tent,” I instructed.

Nolan nodded and headed off decisively in the direction I had pointed while Harmony remained back standing beside me.

“I thought about your offer for counseling some more,” she said, dropping her voice so quiet I could hardly hear her. “I’d like to do it, provided the offer still stands.”

I took her hand in both of mine and gave it a good, firm shake. “See you Tuesday.”

She agreed and then skipped off to join Nolan by the food.

Okay, so she didn’t skip, but she didn’t sulk, either. There was a certain peppiness to her step that hadn’t been there before, and seeing as I’d been in love once before myself and had counseled countless others on the merits of 1 Corinthians 13, I knew exactly what had gotten into Miss Harmony King.