A Sounding Brass (16 page)

“I don’t think Alma cares for gray,” she pointed out, leaning close to Rebecca’s ear.

“I don’t think Alma cares for anything,” Rebecca answered tartly. “She probably thinks eating liver and parsnips is counted
unto her for righteousness, too.”

Claire stifled a giggle, and the service began. Halfway through the first hymn, the street door opened, and a ripple went
through the room as Ray Harper made his way up the aisle, stepped over the knees of four people, including Rebecca, and settled
on Claire’s other side.

“Hello again,” he said.

Claire stopped herself from looking around to see who was staring. “Hello. Hymn 156.” She was going to have to have a little
talk with him about seating etiquette. Ray couldn’t know that by sitting with her in more than one Gathering, he had just
declared to everyone present that he was interested in her. Now she would have to fend off the concern of people like Rebecca
and Linda Bell, who would feel it necessary to caution her about the dangers of looking Outside.

After testimony time and the closing prayer, Owen announced another hymn. “We’re going to sing number 284, ‘The Faithful Carpenter,’”
he said. “I think it’s very appropriate given what Luke is going to talk to us about after the service.”

Melanie Bell, who was playing the piano, launched into the opening chords and Owen led them in song.

The carpenter is standing

On a barren plot of ground

But in his mind the house is complete and new.

He uses all his years of skill

To make the foundation sound

Look up, carpenter, the walls must be straight and true.

Her foundations were sound. Even if he decided to become Elect, Ray Harper just wasn’t her kind of guy. He was a cop, for
one thing, and didn’t cops carry guns in order to shoot people? She’d never seen a gun on him, but still. At least he wasn’t
as intimidating as he used to be. When he’d hugged Dinah the other night, she’d seen he was capable of softness—tenderness,
even, for a friend. And now it was somewhat endearing to see the battered leather cover of the hymnbook held so awkwardly
in his hands. He had nice hands, she had to give him that, whether they actually held a gun or not.

He’s labored all his life

To build a temple unseen

Its walls are strong, its rooms are filled with love.

He invites his Lord to dwell there

Whatever cost it means

Look up, carpenter, and peace will come from above.

Peace was in short supply in her life lately, between the excitement of working for Luke and the unsettled feelings she was
having about Ray—not to mention what he was doing to her reputation. But hadn’t she been moaning not so long ago that she
needed some stirring up? Did that count as an answered prayer, too?

Now he stands in that great doorway

That leads to heaven and home

He sees the roofs of those heavenly mansions fair

His journey now is ended

No more on earth to roam

Look up, carpenter, the Savior awaits you there.

As the last notes died away, Luke Fisher walked to the front with a long roll of paper in one hand. Claire straightened and
marshaled her straying thoughts into order. It had to be the plans for the worship center. What would people say? Would they
get behind the vision, or would they murmur politely and fade away, which was the usual Elect way of indicating disapproval
without actually being accused of judging their neighbor by saying so.

Luke adjusted the microphone and smiled at the crowd the way the angel must have smiled at Mary when he told her the good
news about her pregnancy. “God is good,” he said. “Thanks to people who have responded to His promptings in their hearts,
we’ve been able to make a down payment on a mobile station, give to worthy ministries, donate to our own food bank, and .
. .” He shook out the drawings and Owen began taping them to the wall behind him. “. . . begin designing the Hamilton Falls
Worship Center.” He motioned to the crowd. “Come on up and look. I had them make multiple copies so everyone could see.”

Claire was one of the first to the front, followed closely by Ray. The drawing showed a huge central hall (
Seating capacity 1,000
said the caption), with a kitchen in one wing and several breakout conference rooms in the other. Down a path were cabins
and a smaller building that held gatherings of as many as fifty. There was an administration building with offices and a couple
of dormitories (
Capacity 50 beds
). The gathering rooms had fireplaces and large windows that looked out on the lake, and each cabin had its own view.

“This is beautiful,” Claire breathed, almost to herself. “No one has ever thought of something like this before. It’s amazing.”

“He’s amazing,” Maggie Bell, Linda’s widowed sister-in-law, sighed. “You’re so lucky to work with him, Claire. I don’t know
how you get anything done.”

Did she think Claire spent her days with her chin in her hand, gazing dreamily through the studio window? “I take my job seriously,
that’s how,” she replied. “To everyone else it may just be accounting, but to Luke it’s the Lord’s work.”

“And you get to help him with it.” Maggie shot her a sidelong glance. “So . . . is anything going on between the two of you?”

For half a second, Claire debated. If she said yes, Maggie would back off. But you could guarantee Luke would hear about it,
and that would be embarrassing if he didn’t feel the same way. If she said no, the field would be wide open. But the field
was wide open now. Better to stick to the truth.

“He’s very focused on God’s work,” she said. “So far there hasn’t been time for anything else.”

“Oh,” Maggie said with a rising and falling inflection that told Claire the black-and-white flag had just fallen at the racetrack.
Well, the widow was welcome to make a fool of herself if she wanted. Claire still had the inside lane.

“And are
you
just as focused on God’s work?”

She practically jumped out of her skin at the low voice behind her. She’d thought Ray had moved on through the crowd after
looking at the drawings.

“Of course,” she answered. Well, what else could she say?

“No distractions, huh.” Though he spoke from just behind her shoulder, he kept his gaze on the drawings hanging in front of
them as if they were the most interesting things in the world. They were practically alone in the crowd; Maggie had already
drifted purposefully in Luke’s direction.

“And what does it matter to you?” she murmured. Her distractions or lack thereof were none of his business.

“It matters,” he said.

Oh. Oh, dear. Maybe he did know how seating worked at Gathering. Maybe he’d sat next to her for a reason.

“It does?”
Great, Claire, that was so intelligent.

Behind her, she felt him shrug. “I just wouldn’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that.” There was nothing quite as insulting as a guy who just assumed you’d be the one
to get dumped and consequently hurt.

He moved beside her and looked at her as though he’d just figured out she was not amused. “I was just letting you know what
I thought. As a friend.”

Sure, he was. “Good night, Investigator.” Head high, in her new bottle-green suit that matched her eyes, definitely not the
sort of woman who was in the habit of getting dumped, she walked out of the hall.

“Claire, wait. Please.”

She stopped halfway across the parking lot, where scattered groups of people stood talking about the worship center. Some
could see how far-reaching Luke’s vision could be and what a great thing it would be for the community. Some were stuck in
the Elect rut that automatically treated something new as suspicious and even sinful if it wasn’t first proposed by a Shepherd.

She turned as Ray caught up with her.

“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She couldn’t see his eyes very well—the streetlights behind him and his shaggy hair combined
to hide them—but his tone was contrite. “I’m better at setting up drug deals than talking to pretty women, to tell you the
truth.”

It had been so long since she’d received an honest-to-goodness compliment from anyone in pants—Luke excepted—that it took
the edge off her chilly exit by quite a bit. “Drug deals?”

He fell into step beside her as she walked to her car. “Yeah. With cokeheads the procedure is pretty straightforward. Introduction,
buy, takedown. With women, there is no procedure. A guy just takes shots in the dark.”

She had to laugh, he was so ingenuous about it. “Women are easy to understand, Ray. No matter what, just give them their own
way.”

“Yeah, but first you have to find out what that is without looking dumb by asking.”

“There’s nothing wrong with asking.”

“Okay, then, let me ask you this. Do you want to go somewhere and get a piece of pie and some coffee?”

Zing! She hadn’t even seen that coming. Or maybe she had. He’d sat with her twice. That was usually a pretty good indicator
that a request for a date was forthcoming. The question was, how was she going to answer him? The Elect seemed to have resolved
the clothing and hair issues, but no one had brought up the deeper issues of how they might relate to the people for whom
they were broadening their horizons.

Put simply, was it now okay to date Outside or not? And for that matter, what about her sister, Elaine? She had married Outside
and was struggling to hang on to her salvation. Might things change for her now, too?

But wondering about that wasn’t giving Ray an answer. She stopped at her car and unlocked it. “I don’t usually go out with
Outsiders, Ray.”

“It’s just coffee. I’m starving and I want some company, that’s all.”

“But you sat with me. Twice.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Sure. You and Rebecca are the only people I know.”

You and Rebecca.
Of course. Rebecca had been on her other side both times. Maybe it wasn’t a courtship maneuver. Maybe it was just what he
said it was.

“What’s the big deal?” he asked.

She was going to have to tell him. “Well, this may sound a little weird to you, but in the Elect, if a man sits with a woman
on purpose, it’s an indication that he’s interested in her.”

He didn’t respond. In fact, he looked a little flummoxed.

“You’ve sat with me twice now. People are going to start to talk.” She smiled at him cheerfully. “But, of course, you’re right—Rebecca
and I are the only people you know. If they start teasing me about you, I’ll just tell them that.”

“Oh, sure.” He sounded a little muffled. “We’re just friends.”

“Exactly.”

“So, as just a friend, will you have a piece of pie with me before I starve to death?”

It sounded so harmless. A piece of pie with a friend. An hour in a restaurant with an interesting guy who—face it—would be
leaving when his holiday was over. And she hadn’t had a date in a year.

Just an hour. Couldn’t she have just an hour?

No, she couldn’t. Melchizedek’s voice sounded in her memory, giving her the reasons why she couldn’t move to Seattle. Chief
among them was the fact that she was the only example of a single-but-godly woman that the younger girls had. Deep inside
she might resent it, like having to do a job she didn’t want, but there it was.

“I really can’t, Ray. It would set a bad example.”

“Come on, it’s not like I’m a criminal.”

“Of course not. But we’re not encouraged to look Outside. If some of the younger girls saw me doing it, they’d be tempted
to look Outside, too, and that could lead to bad decisions.”

He bowed his head and chewed on the corner of his lip, looking for all the world as if he were coming to some kind of decision.

Or maybe she’d just hurt his feelings. “I’m sorry, Ray. I didn’t mean to—”

He lifted his head. “What if I wasn’t an Outsider?”

She stopped in mid-sentence. “What?”

“What if I wanted to join your group? Would you have coffee with me then?”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times as fragments of sentences blew through her brain.

Ray a convert?

You don’t even believe—

I thought you were an atheist—

“I need to talk to someone,” he said, even as she tried to wrap her mind around it. “I was hoping it could be you.”

T
HE WAITRESS
put a succulent wedge of blackberry pie in front of him and Ray thanked his lucky stars that, if nothing else, the people
in Hamilton Falls knew how to eat. He dug into it with gusto and watched Claire pick the walnuts off the top of her muffin.

He’d spouted off about joining the Elect as a last-gasp effort to get her attention, and now he was going to have to keep
up the act. He knew from his partner Ross’s accounts of his time investigating the Elect that converts were treated like gold.
An Elect person would do anything if you indicated interest—up to and including having coffee with an infidel like him.

Ah, well, desperate times meant desperate measures, and if he had to join this group to get a closer look at what Luke Fisher
was up to, then that’s what he’d do. It wasn’t like he was out to hurt anyone with such a cover story. On the contrary, he
was out to prevent a whole bunch of people from getting hurt.

Or maybe just one.

Claire lifted those gorgeous green eyes from their contemplation of the walnuts. “So, tell me,” she said quietly. “What makes
you think the Elect is the path for you?”

Think fast.
“I, um, I want to get to know God better. And you and Rebecca and the others seem to have a handle on that, so I figure it’s
the way to go.”

“There’s a lot of sacrifice involved, Ray.” She tore the muffin in half and buttered it. “We give up our own wills to serve
God.”

“Do I have to wear black?” His wardrobe was pretty limited, especially when he was on the road.