Unlikely Praise (Musicians of Cornerstone Fellowship #1)

Chapter One

FROM: Pastor Charles Littleton

Sent: Tuesday, April 14 10:00 AM

To: Candi Canaberry

Subject: New Guitarist

Candi:

Samuel Blackledge, the guitarist I told you about, will be visiting practice tonight. I know you’ll make him feel welcome. We’ll all get together next week to discuss the changes we talked about. Let me know how it goes.

Thanks, Charles

Candi Canaberry whipped into the parking lot of Jake’s Music Emporium and slowed just in time to swerve around the old, bronze-colored Ford truck that blocked part of the entrance. She glared at the empty clunker with the missing tailgate as she inched her way around it.

“Genius,” she mumbled as though the truck could hear and understand her irritation. “Maybe next time you can block the whole road.”

She found a tiny space as far away from the truck as possible and safely parked her new silver Acura. She glanced at the time as she got out. Six-fifteen. She hated not getting to worship practice an hour before everyone else. Now she wouldn’t have time to pray and prepare. And this was one day she needed that time.

She flung open Jake’s door and pulled off her sunglasses. The owner’s nephew leaned against the counter as he talked with a customer.

She headed straight for Jake’s office. “Hey, Kyle. Jake’s got Rocky’s bass strings and an old CD for me.”

“He’s not here and the office is locked, but I can help you find the order as soon as I finish.”

She stopped hard and grimaced in pain as every sore toe in her new high heels slid forward and pinched against the pointy ends. “OK,” she squeaked and stepped in line at the counter.

She glanced at her phone for the time again and crossed her arms in frustration. The day just kept getting better. First, the Dean of Fine Arts wanted to add another Music Appreciation class to her already overloaded fall teaching schedule. Apparently, that kind of thing happened when you were the youngest and newest member of the faculty. Then he called an emergency staff meeting to discuss final exams when, as far as she was concerned, the only real emergency was that she wore new heels on a day she thought was going to be a short one.

Add to that the reckless student who almost mowed her down on the way to the faculty parking lot. And the bozo with the stellar parking job in Jake’s too-small lot. Even the persistent headache she thought she’d conquered at lunch now moved and throbbed at will each time she blinked.

And Kyle just kept talking to the ponytailed rock-star-wanna-be customer as if she had all night to admire his torn jeans, his Clapton vintage tee, and the hideous tattoo that exploded up his left forearm in vivid shades of green. What was that thing anyway? A snake? A frog? She tilted her head to see it clearer, but then thought better of it as her migraine intensified. She didn’t need to know anyway. Then he hooked his thumb in his front pocket, and the whole ugly picture became clear.

Ooohhh... A lizard... But it wasn’t cute like the green anoles she’d seen hopping from leaf to leaf in her holly bushes, and it certainly wasn’t cuddly like the gecko on television. No, this was a fierce lizard with demonic red eyes and a barbed tail that curved around the man’s wrist. Since when did lizards have barbed tails? Since when did she care?

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” she interrupted. “I’m late and I’m sure that order is sitting right there. Jake said he’d put a sticky note on stuff and set it out. It goes on the church’s account so you don’t even have to check me out.”

Kyle snickered. “OK, I won’t check you out.”

But the rocker did.

He turned, and his green-gold gaze met hers before he gave her a quick head-to-toe.

Gag .

She narrowed her eyes. “I mean ring me up.”

The rocker extended his hand to Kyle. “I’ll let you get back to work. Nice talking to you.”

“You too,” Kyle answered. “Good luck with your business and welcome to Texas.”

The customer gathered his bag and headed for the door. “Oh, I’m not new to Texas, or to Spring. I just haven’t been back in a while.” He paused to offer one last smile and nod—but it wasn’t for Kyle. His perfect teeth, combined with the deep rugged slashes around his mouth, revealed a surprisingly handsome man—if you could forget the whole rock-star vibe in the rest of his appearance.

It almost made her forget she thought long blond ponytails only looked good on ten-year-old girls.

Almost .

She stepped to the counter. “Anyway, Kyle. The order.”

He lifted stacks of paper and pushed aside guitar picks and polishing cloths. “What CD was it? And what do you want with a CD?”

“The bag has a sticky note on it,” she reminded him. “It’s a compilation disc with the best praise and worship music of the year from a few years back. There’s an arrangement on there I want the team to hear tonight. Jake said he’d dig it out from the few CDs he still has left for sale.”

Kyle looked down and stepped back from the counter. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“I think I messed up.”

Candi leaned in. A neon yellow Post-it hung from Kyle’s holey jeans. Her name stood out like an airport beacon. “Well, there’s the sticky note. Where’s the bag with the strings and CD?”

“I sold the CD.” He held up a bag. “Here’s the bag with the strings. The CD must’ve fallen out.”

Her headache moved to encompass her entire brain. “Not that it matters now, but when? I talked to Jake less than an hour ago. How did you... I mean...”

“Shade bought it.”

“Excuse me, did you say Shade?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Shade.”

“Who’s Shade?”

“The guy who was just in here. He saw it on the counter and there was no note on it at the time. It must’ve already come off.”

“Ya think ?” She rushed to the door, her toes protesting all the way. The old Ford was gone. “Figures.” She hobbled back to the counter. “And what in the world would he want with my praise and worship CD?”

Kyle poked his stringy brown hair behind his ears. “Sorry, Candi.”

“No worries, Kyle.” She rubbed her temples. “I’d like to smack you around a bit, but violence never solves anything and it’s not very Christlike.”

Kyle’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

“I’m kidding, Kyle.”

“Oh.”

“Tell Jake I’ll call him tomorrow. Perhaps there’s another one here somewhere.”

“Can’t you download it?”

“I’ve had trouble finding that exact arrangement. Plus, the computer in the sound booth has some virus or something and everyone’s afraid to use it, and I walked off this morning without the charger to my laptop.”

“You can download it on your phone and run it through the sound system,” Kyle offered.

“I’m aware, Kyle, but thank you. When I find that exact arrangement, maybe I can do that.” She plucked the strings from the mess on the counter. “Let’s just call this one a day, shall we?”

She limped to her car and swallowed two more ibuprofen. Philippians 4:6 skittered across her mind. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God...

But it was so hard not to be anxious or worried when everything she knew and worked for was about to come crashing down. She’d given Cornerstone Fellowship every Sunday morning and Tuesday night for the last two-and-a-half years. Two-and-a-half years of practice, two-and-a-half years of everything she had as a musician, a leader, and a teacher. Two-and-a-half years of preparation for the day when those small services with fifty regular members exploded into an overflowing congregation who demanded a whole new sanctuary to house them.

That day had come—and she couldn’t feel more left behind.

Shade made a sharp left out of Jake’s parking lot and attempted to ease into the far right lane. Driving the old truck and shifting gears was a lot like deactivating a bomb. If he didn’t press, push, and pull everything at just the precise moment with just the right amount of pressure, the whole thing could simply blow up. Metal ground against metal, and third gear settled in with a clank. That would have to do.

He leaned across the seat and pulled his grandfather’s pocket watch out of the glove compartment. “Uh-oh,” he muttered and placed it back inside. Just forty minutes to get home, clean his rollers, wash the paint out of his hair, and get back to church. He pressed the accelerator further onto the rusted floorboard.

He couldn’t be late for his first praise and worship practice, especially since he was pretty sure that was the worship leader he’d just seen at Jake’s and she already looked annoyed. So annoyed, in fact, he resisted the urge to introduce himself properly in case it wasn’t her. Or maybe in case it was. He pulled the CD out of his bag and wrestled with the plastic wrap.

“What have I gotten myself in to?”

He gave up on the CD and tossed it aside as he turned into the drive of the small mobile home park. Children darted in and out of yards along the narrow streets. Everyone paused to wave whether they’d officially met him or not, and friendly smiles from the kids across the street made it easy to nod and feel welcome in his new neighborhood. He was home now, and this time he’d get it right. He owed it to Pete, he owed it to baby Rachel, and he owed it to himself.

He grabbed his bag and touched the silver cross that hung from his rearview mirror.

One day at a time...

One day at a time...

Candi found her secret parking spot behind the church and took several deep breaths. “Focus,” she told herself. “This is not about you. This is about worship.”

Thank you, Lord, for your presence at our practice, thank you for this team’s talents and abilities, thank you for your continued blessings as we prepare our hearts to worship...

The weight of anxiety in her heart did not ease.

“OK, Lord. I don’t get it. I’ve done everything Pastor Charles asked me to do. I’ve attended every worship committee meeting, and I’ve worked hard to build this team. I just don’t understand how they could bring in a total stranger and randomly decide he’s supposed to help me lead this band. I don’t even think he’s a member of the church. It doesn’t make any sense...”

More deep breaths.

She rounded the car to collect her things. The church would be dark and quiet now. It was the best time to arrive.

She pushed her key into the lock at the back entrance. It didn’t turn. Her toes continued to throb inside her shoes as she leaned against the door and tried again. Her overstuffed folders started to slide from her arms. When her heavy purse slipped from her shoulder to her forearm, all the music broke loose and hit the ground. Pages fluttered on the sidewalk and blew away in the evening breeze.

She tossed her purse into the shrubbery. Her phone skittered across the concrete.

And the ridiculously uncomfortable shoes? She kicked those off with wild abandon as she scrambled for flying paper.

“Let me help you.”

The strange male voice from behind her came as such a shock that she screamed like a teenaged girl in a horror movie. It was not attractive. She bolted upright.

“You scared me!” She placed her bare foot on the stack of folders and met his gaze. Wait a minute... She knew that ponytail.

“Sorry.” He handed her a pile of paper. “You’re Candi.” He smiled and extended his hand.

Her stomach flopped completely over. It was the same guy, but there were two less holes in his jeans, and he’d replaced the tee with a plain white collared shirt. At least the long sleeves covered his tattoo.

She put her hand in his rough and calloused one. “You should have said something at Jake’s.”

“I wasn’t sure. I’ve only been here a few weeks, and you look different than your picture on the church’s website.”

Not that hideous picture! Her hair was too long in that horrifying faculty photo, and she looked matronly, annoyed, and at least ten years older.

“You can forget you saw that,” she said and smoothed her skirt. “But yes, I am Candi Canaberry. And I assume you’re Samuel Blackledge.”

“Everyone calls me Shade.”

She tugged her purse out of the bushes and repositioned the folders in her arms. “Why would everyone do that?”

He laughed. “Years in the music business.”

She nodded. Kyle had been right. “Ah yes, you rockers and your nicknames.”

His smile faded as silence grew between them, and she remained distracted by a long piece of hair that had escaped his ponytail and whipped across his face in the wind.

“You bought my CD at Jake’s,” she blurted.

He rested his hands on his hips. “Uh...” He shook off a confused expression. “I bought a few vintage CDs. Which one was yours? Did you write the music?”

“No, I mean Jake was saving it for me and the sticky note fell off and Kyle sold it to you and...” She stopped and raised her arm as though her own hand signal could somehow end her muddled flow of words. “Never mind. Did you bring the CDs with you? There’s a song I wanted the band to hear tonight.”

“I took them home. But I can go back and get them.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll listen another time.”

He picked up his guitar case and rushed to retrieve her shoes.

“That’s OK. I’ll get them.”

“It’s no problem. You need help with the door?”

Right. The door. The keychain dangled from the lock.

“No, it’s just being stubborn.”

She clasped the handle and the key. Lord, if there was ever a time I needed a door to open...

Click!

She scooped her phone off the ground. “C’mon in.”

He trailed behind her as she padded shoeless down the dimly lit aisle to the front of the sanctuary. Evening sun glowed through the jewel toned windows behind the pulpit. Her favorite time of day. She dropped her things by the keyboard on the platform.

In the control booth, she brought up the lights and clicked on the sound system. The familiar gentle hum was the weekly welcome to God’s house she’d grown accustomed to.

She headed for the closet behind the platform while Shade sat on the front pew and tugged on his guitar strings.

“Are those new?”

“Yeah. Not quite broken in.”

She put a guitar stand near the keyboard and pulled microphones out of their foam-filled storage boxes. Shade fidgeted in his seat and tapped the toe of his cowboy boot against the floor at lightning speed. He was as nervous as she was.

“You can plug in right here.” She pointed toward the box on the floor. “Use the one labeled guitar three. Right now our sound system is not all that sophisticated. Hopefully when we get our new building, we’ll get a state-of-the-art setup.”

He joined her on the platform and set his guitar in the stand.

She took a nervous step away from him.

“Is everything OK?” he asked.

She placed her hand across her heart as she caught her breath. “Everything’s fine, really. I’m sorry I’m not doing a better job of making you feel welcome. I’m a little in shock after just seeing you at Jake’s and now you’re here, and I didn’t know you were coming until I got an email this morning from Pastor Charles. He’d mentioned some changes, but I didn’t know when or what was going to happen.”

“Yeah, it’s been kinda weird. I’d only been here a couple weeks and he started talking to me about joining the worship team.”

Candi’s blood bubbled in her veins and sent a warm rush to her cheeks. Pastor Charles had bypassed her completely. Was there any point in trying to find out what Shade’s skill level was? Where had he trained in music? Where did he get his worship experience? Did he even understand the importance of worship?

She remembered what Grandpa Nick used to say. All things work together for good to them that love God.

She did love God and the church and even Pastor Charles, though he was temporarily insane, but most of all she loved to worship. Didn’t this all have to work out somehow?

“You’ll be fine, Shade. Everyone should be here shortly. You can tell us a little about yourself and then we’ll make some music.”

“Sure thing.” He grabbed a mic stand and clipped the cord at the side. “Have you lived in Spring all your life?”

“Uh, no. I moved around a bit, but I’ve been in this area for several years. I went to Sam Houston State University in Huntsville. Why?”

“Your name is very familiar.” He moved to another mic stand and handled the messy cord like an experienced professional. “I swear I know someone else named Canaberry. I think it was in Austin.”

Shade’s words hit her like an oncoming truck. Was it not enough in one day that he was even here? Was he now going to take a sledge hammer and break into the only secrets she had left?

She turned away and busied herself with some music. If he couldn’t see her face, he couldn’t see her fear. She tried to sound calm. “You spend a lot of time in Austin?”

“Fair amount. Had a pretty successful band there.”

She rushed to the closet and pulled the three-hole punch off the top of the cabinet where she stored music. No. Way. This was not happening. Samuel or Shade or whoever he was did not know her family in Austin. He was mistaken. He had to be. She stuffed a stack of papers into the punch and clamped down.

Could Pastor Charles have said something? Never. Only he knew the whole story of her life in Austin, her mother’s death, and her sour relationship with her criminal father—and he would never tell.

She wrestled with the punch. The top two cutters released cleanly. The third was hopelessly stuck. She should have never come to the Houston area when she fled Austin. It wasn’t far enough away. She should have gone to Montana. Or Canada. Or Siberia. Anywhere but here.

Suddenly Shade was in the closet with her, smelling like spicy soap and blocking her way out of the crowded space.

“Let me try.” He took the punch from her hands.

“Sometimes you have to turn it over and knock it loose.” She swiped her sweaty palms across her skirt. “I put too many pages in it. We’ve been trying to go paperless. Most of us use our iPads, but we still end up with notebooks full of chord charts.”

There was a click and he handed her the music.

“Thank you.” She squeezed past him. “What brings you to Spring?”

“Needed a change.” He followed her out of the closet. “And I have some family around here.”

She nodded and added the pages to her binder.

“I was mistaken, by the way.”

She closed the notebook and met his steady gaze. “How’s that?”

“It was Winterberry. The guy I worked with once in a while in Austin is a horn player named Winterberry. Not Canaberry.” The corners of his mouth curled. “Wings Winterberry.”

“Wings?”

“Yeah, you know us rockers and our nicknames.”

She noted his sly grin and the knowing glint in his eyes. Had he really remembered Wings Winterberry? Or had he crossed paths with her father and now chose to be a gentleman and let her off the sharp hook?

Either way, she was flopping around on the dock.

Shade took a step back. Wow . He’d framed a lot of houses with his father on job sites all over Texas, and he’d never seen walls go up as fast as Candi Canaberry could construct them. Even now as she flitted around the platform like a small tornado, the worried lines across her forehead deepened.

Wow again.

She’d not only built walls, she was mentally hanging sheetrock to make sure he stayed out. But why?

He’d known her all of five minutes, and it was strictly business. He was there because Pastor Charles asked him to be, and he’d only said yes to this uncomfortable situation because he thought God might be leading him into something. But what did he know? He was a new Christian with more questions and problems than answers and solutions. God could be standing at the end of his driveway with a neon arrow and he’d miss it.

He retreated to the spot she’d assigned and picked up his guitar. The metallic scent of the new strings soothed him. He glanced at the door. He could still leave, but Pastor Charles’s words of advice had stuck in his mind since Sunday. You can’t drive a parked car, son. You gotta get in and try to go somewhere. If you head the wrong way, trust me, God will put you back on course. Just make sure you depend on Him for directions.

Even if he had veered off course, at least he was in church with his guitar and not at home alone dwelling on past mistakes. He never doubted the key to his recovery was his relationship with God and his determination to not revisit the ugly habits that cost him so much. But he would always need music. This worship team might be a way to fill that need.

Which brought him back to Candi Canaberry.

First, she pulled a stack of chord charts from her giant purse, and then ducked back into the closet for more microphones. Every movement seemed filled with urgency. Was she always wound this tight, or was it just his unexpected and unwanted appearance that had her all in knots?

Eventually, she stopped at the keyboard, like a busy butterfly that discovered the perfect blossom. With a pencil clamped in her teeth, she opened a piece of music and started to play.

It took just a few measures for the creases in her forehead to disappear, and only a matter of seconds for him to realize what a true beauty she was. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed how well put together she was when she blew through Jake’s earlier, but this was the first time she’d actually stood still without a frenzied scowl on her face.

She removed the pencil from her mouth and slid it behind her ear. It disappeared into the short waves of light brown hair. Everything about her was rhythm, notes, and melody as she pulsed with the natural metronome in her head and tapped her bare toes on the floor.

She caught him looking. “Do you know this song?”

He twisted the tuning peg on the D string a little too far. “Yeah,” he said, and met her sparkling green gaze, but the name of it had evaporated from his memory.

The slam of a door jarred them both.

Shade set down his guitar and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. A persistent jab of anxiety poked his insides again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous about band practice. Why was he so nervous now?

Candi left the platform to greet a woman in pink and purple scrubs who looked to be somewhere in her fifties. The older woman tossed her keys onto a pew and swiped her finger under each eye as though wiping away tears.

Candi enveloped her in a hug and then ushered her toward the front. “Long day?”

“The usual,” she replied and pushed a fluff of gray-tinted brown hair away from her face. She greeted Shade with a polite smile and did a quick top-to-bottom survey.

He tried to return the smile as the jabs of anxiety kept coming. It was as if he’d just joined a band with his mother and she was about to check behind his ears.

Candi handed her a folder and put an arm around her shoulders. “Shade, I’d like you to meet Carol Ann. She can sing anything in any key and can find a harmony part when others say it can’t be done.”

Carol Ann laughed and held out her hand. “Good to meet you, Shade. And she flatters me. Truth is, I’m the only one she can get to show up.”

“Not true,” Candi shot back. “And Shade will tell us more about himself when everyone gets here.”

As the women prattled on, Shade dropped to a chair. So far so good. He hadn’t had to say a word.

Two more people entered from the back with acoustic guitar cases. They argued and wagged fingers in each other’s faces all the way down the main aisle.

Candi planted her hands on her hips. ‘You two still sharing a car?”

“Yes!” they snapped in unison.

The girl put down her case and re-worked her strawberry blonde hair. “He forgot to pick me up,” she seethed through the ponytail holder she held in her teeth.

“Well, she didn’t tell me she’d still be on campus. I thought she was at home.”

“Do you think you can leave this fight until later?” Candi asked.

“Yes.” Once again they replied in unison.

“Shade, meet Kevin and Kelly. They are college freshmen and, if you can’t tell already, are forced to share a car.”

Shade rushed forward to shake hands.

“That also means they’re brother and sister, which I’m sure you can tell from the bickering.”

“Twins,” Kelly offered. “I’m the oldest by twelve and a half minutes. That’s always the next question people ask.”

Kevin gave Kelly a dirty look. “I don’t think that’s the next question. I think she just likes to broadcast she’s the oldest.”

Candi put her hand up to stop them. “Knock it off. Anyway, Kevin does a lot of solo work for us. Kelly just likes to blend in, though we are trying to get her to sing more.”

Kelly pulled out her guitar and slid the empty case under a pew. “That’s OK, I don’t need to sing.”

Candi met Shade’s gaze and stepped closer. “She has a beautiful voice,” she whispered. “She’s just a little shy.”

Kevin pulled his strap over his head and honed in on Shade’s guitar. He took the pick out of his mouth. “Whoa. That’s an American-made Strat.”

Shade puffed out his chest. He was gonna like this kid. “Yeah, it is.”

“Big spender.”

“Not really. I’ve had it a long time.”

“Rocky’s here,” Kelly announced as a guy in a wheelchair maneuvered his way through the doors at the back of the sanctuary with a bass guitar propped in his lap.

“I’ll get him,” Kevin offered and stashed his guitar against a chair. He hopped off the platform and sprinted to the back of the church. “Yo, Rock-y!” he called out, and then proceeded to push the chair like a race car down the side aisle and onto the platform by way of a small ramp at the side.

Shade suspected the man didn’t need help as much as Kevin wanted to drive the chair.

Kevin made the introduction. “Shade. Rocky. Rocky. Shade.”

“Hey, Rocky,” Kevin continued. “What do you call a bass player with half a brain?”

Rocky backed his chair up in line with a small amp and reached for the cord. “I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Gifted.” Kevin laughed while everyone else groaned.

Rocky smoothed his wavy black hair and shot Shade a knowing glance. “You know these jokes you and Max tell are older than your grandpa.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not true.”

“Possibly,” Candi interjected with a smile. “But I’m pretty sure it means they’re not funny anymore.”

Carol Ann pulled a stool over to her microphone and set her reading glasses on the stand. “I don’t think that’s going to stop them.”

Shade checked his strings one more time and tried not to stare at the thirty-something Rocky who, he assumed, was confined to his chair. The sight of him there as he struggled to adjust his amp without having to roll from his crowded spot brought back memories Shade would just as soon forget.

But forgetting didn’t seem to be an option.

Instead, the horror-filled slide show of his and Pete’s accident pulsed, frame-by-frame, through his mind. First laughter and music from the car’s radio, then static-filled air as he lay near the smashed vehicle unable to feel his legs... Unable to see or hear Pete.

Candi pulled a music stand his way and set a folder on it. “You OK?”

“Fine.” It was a lie, and he suspected she knew by the way she pursed her lips and refused to take her eyes off him.

“This is someone else’s binder,” she finally explained. “Like I said, we’re trying to get away from all the paper. We can get you hooked up with the app we use if you have an iPad.” She dropped a sharpened pencil on his music stand. “We make a lot of notes. I’ll get you a binder of your own by next week.”

Next week? He wasn’t sure he was going to live through this one. “Thanks.”

She returned to her keyboard. “About Max. Has anyone seen him?”

“He was just at Taco Bell,” Rocky said. “He was gazing lovingly at the value menu with a five-dollar bill in his hand. He should be here shortly.”

“I’m here now,” Max announced as he came through the side door with a stick bag and a giant drink.

“Don’t bring that up here,” Candi warned.

“I know.” He shook the ice-filled container. “It’s almost gone.”

After one loud and final slurp, he dropped it in the trashcan near the door.

“That’s so attractive,” Kelly observed. “No wonder all the girls are wild about you.”

Carol Ann laughed out loud and held out her arms as Max walked by. “Now don’t do him like that, Kelly. All the girls do love Max.”

Max stepped into her obviously loving embrace. “Thanks,” he said and made a face at Kelly “But you’re the only girl who matters.”

This time Kelly made the introductions. “Shade. Max. Max. Shade.”

“Let’s get started,” Candi ordered, and everyone dutifully made a circle.

Shade slipped in beside her. The anxiety jabs were no longer jabs. They were all out punches.

“I know we made some introductions,” Candi started. “But I’d like to formally introduce you to Shade Blackledge. Pastor Charles asked him to come to practice and see if he might be interested in joining us.” Candi looked around the circle. “I think you met everyone, but we’ll quickly tell you more about ourselves. Go ahead, Carol Ann.”

“I’m Carol Ann and I sing. By day, I’m a critical care nurse. My husband’s name is Bud, no children, and right now I have my sick mother at home.”

Kevin looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. “My turn. I’m Kevin, that’s my sister, Kelly, and you’ve already heard about us—”

“I can speak for myself. I’m Kelly, that’s my brother Kevin, and I’m the oldest.”

Shade smiled, but wondered if these two really were college freshmen, or were they twelve-year-olds?

Candi met his sideways glance and leaned in. “I don’t know what’s got into them tonight. It’s usually not this bad.”

Rocky laced his fingers across his stomach. “I’m Rocky, and I love long rolls on the beach—if the sand’s packed down—and any business that has a drive-thru window.”

Now that was funny. Everyone laughed. Even Candi.

“Seriously, I play the bass, I do computer consulting work from home, and that’s about it.”

Max pushed a couple long brown curls out of his eyes and stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “I’m Max, I play drums, and I’ve worked for my dad since finishing college this past December.”

“That just leaves me,” Candi said. “I sing, play keyboard, and teach music at the college. Your turn, Shade.”

His heart rate spiked in the silence as they waited for him to speak. “I’m Shade, I play guitar, usually lead. I recently moved back to Spring, and I have a house painting business. Thanks for having me, and I look forward to playing with you.”

“All right, unless there’s anything else, does anyone have any requests before we open with prayer?”

“Keep remembering my mom,” Carol Ann said with tears in her eyes. “It’s hard.”

Everyone nodded. Shade had never seen so much genuine concern.

“My insurance company is giving me fits again,” Rocky added. “They’re trying to tell me I don’t need physical therapy for my recent shoulder problems but, without it, I’ll never get back to full strength.”

“If it looks like they’re going to stop paying, Rocky, let me know. I can talk to some people at the hospital,” Carol Ann offered. “There are programs. We can work something out.”

“Or you could send me a good-looking physical therapist with computer problems. We could trade services.”

“Or you could behave yourself, and I won’t yank you outta that chair and run you through your exercises myself,” Carol Ann countered.

“Oooo, Mama’s gonna get you now,” Max said.

Shade turned to Candi. “Mama?”

“Yeah, Carol Ann mothers us all a bit, so we often call her Mama. And by the way, there’s one more who isn’t here. Bill is our sound guy. He’s a retired engineer. You’ll hear the guys call him Wild Bill.”

He leaned closer. “Mama? Wild Bill?” He had her now. “Ah, yes,” he whispered in her ear. “You Christian musicians and your nicknames.”

Max cuffed him on the arm. “You look real familiar to me, but I can’t place you.”

And just when he was starting to have fun.

His vital organs twisted into panic mode, churning and turning until his mouth went completely dry. His greatest fear, besides having never been involved in a Christian praise and worship team, was that someone would recognize him from his former rock band and know instantly his whole tainted and sinful story. Anyone who knew anything about the Austin music scene could have read a blog or visited a website about the band. It wouldn’t be hard to discover the accident that caused him to end his career, or uncover the addictive behavior that fueled his disappearance from the music business.

“He’s been in church several times,” Candi was quick to intercede. “Do you think you saw him here?”

Max scratched his head. “No... That’s not it.”

“It’s the ponytail,” Rocky offered. “He reminds you of Kelly.”

Kelly nudged his chair while everyone else cackled.

Candi snorted into her hand to hide her laughter.

Ironically, this opening jibe at his expense was the first sign they were accepting him. The hallmark of any good band was their merciless pranks and tendency to tease each other. He would have enjoyed this first shot if his lungs weren’t collapsing.

Once again, Kevin seemed to be bouncing in his spot. “I know who he is.”

“What?” Now it was Candi and Shade who answered together.

Rocky shrugged. “He’s Shade Blackledge, leave it at that.”

So he knew too?

But Max apparently didn’t. “Tell us.”

Kevin all but exploded. “He’s the lead guitarist for Dead Lizard Highway.”

“ Was ,” Shade clarified. “ Was the lead guitarist.”

“That’s it!” Max seized his hand and shook it hard. “I knew it. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

Shade backed up. “Really, guys, that was a while ago.”

“Yeah,” Kevin went on. “You know that black t-shirt I have with the bright green lizard on it, and it’s like sitting in the middle of the road holding a sign? That’s from the cover of their last album. The name of the album is on the sign. What is it again?” He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall. “Uh... Oh yeah. Let Dead Lizards Lie , right?”

Shade nodded, and boy, he wished Kevin would let it lie.

Max crossed his arms, his huge grin too big for his face. “So you’re one of the Lizards. What are you doin’ here, man?”

“ Was . Was one of the Lizards. I live here now.”

“Hey, Shade,” Kevin shouted a little too loud. “Can I see your tattoo?”

Max’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah. Let’s see them all.”

“That’s enough.” Candi’s arms went up in protest. “Not to be a wet rag here, but this is worship practice, remember? And Shade was gracious enough to come here at Pastor Charles’s request. Let’s give him some room. You guys can talk later. C’mon, grab hands, and get your heads back in the game. We have some serious prayer requests and some serious work to do.”

Shade took the hand she offered him. One look at her face told him she knew nothing about him. But the strength and warmth she conveyed in the way she held his hand told him something else.

She suspected there was more.