Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
D ad ushered Eryn into the foyer of Creekside Fellowship on Sunday morning. Attending church wasn’t required for Sweet River staff, but it seemed expected for those who weren’t on duty.
“Good morning! I’m Eli Bryson, the youth pastor here, and this is my wife, Harper.” The young man reached out to shake Dad’s hand.
“Keith Ralston and my daughter, Eryn. We just moved here from Kansas to work at Sweet River Ranch.”
The beautiful blonde on Eli’s arm beamed at Eryn. “It’s a big change for you, but you’re going to love it here. I grew up in Atlanta, so this was a bit of a culture shock for me.”
“A bit?” Eli laughed at his wife.
“Okay, a lot.” Harper winked at Eryn. “And it will soon be winter again, but you’re probably used to blizzards from Kansas.”
Eli grinned and shook his head. “You haven’t experienced a true blizzard yet, love. Just a bit of snow.”
“ A bit of snow that gets neck-deep and takes out the power lines.” She gave him a mock glare.
Dad chuckled. “We get some snow and a lot of wind in Kansas. Maxwell told us to expect more snow but less wind, in general.”
“Sounds right.” Eli checked his watch. “The service is about to begin, so we should find our seats. Our senior pastor, Marshall Smith, is preaching today. I hope you’ll enjoy his sermon and be challenged as well. Good to meet you.”
“We’ll have to get together.” Harper fluttered her fingers at Eryn as she tucked her hand in the crook of her husband’s elbow then turned away.
A gorgeous woman like Harper, married to a pastor, wouldn’t follow through on that, but it was a nice, welcoming gesture.
Welcoming guitar and piano music flowed from the sanctuary as Eryn stepped through the doors from the foyer.
“There’s a couple of seats,” Dad whispered, gesturing to their right.
Eryn slipped in, only to realize she sat beside Nadine with Weston and Paisley beyond. She flashed a quick smile. “Hi.”
Dad leaned past her to shake Nadine’s hand, then Weston’s. He’d probably have reached for Paisley’s if he could, but the worship leader invited everyone to stand and sing the opening song, “Come, Now Is the Time to Worship.”
A pang of nostalgia slammed Eryn, memories of Fount of Grace Fellowship back home with Mom standing between Amelia and her to keep them from poking at each other. The Gilead worship team was more professional than here, more polished. That probably had something to do with the music track at the Bible college. Many students in the preaching and drama pathways also participated in Sunday morning services onstage.
Creekside Fellowship was a small-town church with a western flair, with a lot of people wearing jeans and sweatshirts. Eryn smoothed her floral skirt and tugged at the hem of her pastel pink sweater as she furtively glanced around. The only woman who looked more dressed up had been the youth pastor’s stunning wife.
Also, she’d missed most of the song. A portly middle-aged man took the platform and offered an opening prayer before the worship leader invited them all to sing once again. There were new songs and old favorites. Maybe it wasn’t that different from back home.
Was Gilead still home? She pushed that thought out of her head as she tried to focus on the worshipful lyrics.
Then her gaze caught on a row of Sullivans off to the side. Maxwell with his wavy hair sat between his brothers, his three-year-old nephew snuggled into his lap.
Aww. Was there anything sweeter than seeing a big, tough guy holding a little kid like it was no big deal? Not that Maxwell was big. He was more on the wiry side, but the tough part of the label fit. The man had muscles that went for miles, probably from all the power tools and building materials he handled.
She’d love to watch him at work sometime, but that might be construed as creepy. Besides, she’d be confined to the kitchen… except he’d hinted that if she had an interest in the resort’s gift shop, a transfer could be arranged.
The sweetgrass sachets were a no-brainer, and she’d looked up the native grass to discover it was also used for basket-weaving and other crafts. So… a section for sweetgrass.
Then, just plain sweets to keep playing on the ranch name. Locally made candy? She’d do some research and see if that existed.
Local pottery was a nice start, but there were probably other artisans, too. Maybe someone who created stained glass designs or landscape paintings or carved horses or…
“All God’s promises are yes and amen, according to the Bible. That means if He says it, He will do it. Period.”
Eryn blinked at the man in the pulpit. Oh, dear, she was woolgathering like crazy instead of paying attention in church.
God’s promises. Check. There were many of them in scripture. She should make a study of them… or maybe that’s what Pastor Marshall was on about?
She slipped the bulletin from Dad’s lap and scanned the sermon information inside. Hmm. Looked like part three of a longer series on covenant promises. She’d do better to focus on Pastor Marshall’s words than to let her mind wander.
“We humans have our own timelines. We’re like sweetgrass, blooming for a short while, then dying off, while God is eternal. Not only can He see a much bigger picture than we can, but He created that bigger picture so unfathomable to us temporary beings.”
Wasn’t that the truth? It wasn’t even possible for humans to understand how little they understood.
“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.” Pastor Marshall paused, holding up his Bible. “But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children — with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.”
The pastor’s gaze ranged the quiet sanctuary. “Psalm 103 is David’s writing. He knew how insignificant he was, but he clung to God’s promise of His loving, compassionate presence. The same God is still our God today, and we can know Him more fully than David ever could. We have the New Testament, which tells the story of how Jesus fulfilled the Law and the Prophets. David only glimpsed hints of that in a future mostly obscured from him. But we have it all right here.”
Up went the leather-bound book once again. “We can read God’s promises, and we can see how they have been accomplished. All of them? Not yet. But there is ample evidence to leave no room for doubt that God will fulfill the remainder as well.”
Dad shifted restlessly beside Eryn, but a surreptitious glance his direction revealed his rapt attention focused on the pastor.
What was he finding so fascinating in this sermon? The same thing as her?
“Hey, would you two like to join us for lunch?” Maxwell had made his way toward Eryn and her dad so quickly after the benediction that he still held his nephew, Jamie. “We’re headed to the Golden Grill down near the lakefront.”
Aunt Nadine turned to Eryn. “Oh, you should go. You need to experience their food and ambience.”
Maxwell chuckled. “Or you could head back to the ranch and reheat a bowl of chili Nadine left in the walk-in cooler. It’s great chili, but you’ll have plenty of chances to experience it over the winter.”
“Are you saying my menu is repetitive?” Aunt Nadine swatted at his arm, but the grin on her face gave her away.
“In the best way,” he assured her then turned back to Eryn. “My treat.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Dad protested. “The ranch provided us with a larger relocation allowance than we needed. We can pick up our own tab.”
Then it would feel less like a date… which was probably for the best. Still, Eryn eyed Maxwell a little warily. What was that about? He wasn’t all that experienced at wooing women, but he hadn’t thought it would be this hard to gain trust once he’d made up his mind.
Bryce didn’t seem to have any trouble getting women on the same page, at least temporarily. Wally had married his high-school sweetheart.
Tate, like Maxwell, had been somewhat reclusive before he’d met Stephanie, but their relationship had shot into outer space in the blink of an eye, and they’d married within a couple of months of meeting. Made Maxwell feel like a sluggard. After all, he’d reconnected with Eryn a couple of weeks ago. Shouldn’t they be practically engaged by now?
“That sounds nice.” Eryn’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts.
His gaze swung to meet hers. She was on track with imminent engagement? No. Lunch. Lunch at the Golden Grill was on the agenda, not wedding bells. Maxwell needed to get his head in the game and focus on that whole one-step-at-a-time thing.
Hard to do. At work, he made and implemented snap decisions while juggling half a dozen subcontractors, often on more than one project at a time.
That decisiveness was not going to work with Eryn Ralston… even though it apparently had worked on Tate’s wife. Or maybe Stephanie had done just as much pursuing as Tate had. They’d certainly been on the same page as far as speed went.
“Gamma Dean?” Jamie reached for Aunt Nadine.
“You sweet thing.” Nadine plucked the boy from Maxwell’s arms then turned toward Weston and Paisley. “See this adorable child? Don’t take too long getting a few of these happening, okay?”
“Wedding isn’t until spring, Mom.” Weston rolled his eyes. “Hold your horses.”
Paisley giggled. “But after that, look out!”
Maxwell chuckled. It was no secret that Paisley wanted a large family. He couldn’t help but wonder how Weston would do with a bunch of noisy kids ripping around, but the cowboy had mellowed considerably since succumbing to Paisley’s charms a few months back. Probably he’d be the disciplinarian and voice of reason to Paisley’s indulgence. Or maybe not.
Maxwell turned to Keith. “You can follow my truck, or I can give you directions. It’s not hard to find.”
Weston grimaced. “Or just follow anyone from the church parking lot. Seems like most everyone is headed there.”
“But not us today.” Paisley batted her eyes at Weston as she leaned against him. “We’re off to Missoula for the afternoon.”
Maxwell shook his head at the smirk on his cousin’s face. Who would ever have thought it? The dictionary might as well have had Weston’s image beside its entry for grumpy before Paisley had won him over.
“Anyway.” Maxwell turned back to Keith. “The Golden Grill faces the town square a block up from the beach. Can’t wait to see you there.” He reached back for Jamie. “Come on, bucko. Let me take you back to your parents.”
“Are they coming, too?” Eryn asked softly.
“No, they usually go to Stephanie’s parents’ house for Sunday lunch. It’s just Bryce and me today.”
Eryn’s nose wrinkled for a second, and Maxwell did a mental fist pump. That reaction wasn’t one of attraction. For once, he was winning where Bryce was losing. Not that he was the least bit interested in any of the other women Bryce flirted with. This one, though? He’d fight his brother for her.
Jamie squished Maxwell’s cheeks between his small palms and peered into his eyes.
Ouch. That hurt. “What, bucko?”
“Luff you Unc Max.”
“I love you, too, kid.” Had Eryn heard that exchange? He glanced at her to see a gentle smile as she looked between them. Yes! Another mental fist pump.
“See you in a few.” He shifted Jamie to his hip.
“Are you going there for lunch, too?” he heard Keith ask as he walked away.
Wait, what?
“I was thinking of it, yes,” Aunt Nadine replied.
“Maybe you could join us. If you don’t have other plans.”
“I’d like that.”
Maxwell passed Jamie to Tate.
“What are you smirking about? Score a hot date?”
He chuckled. “If you mean, am I taking Eryn and her father for lunch at the Grill, then sure. But what is really catching my funny bone is Eryn’s dad asking Aunt Nadine to join us.”
Tate swung to look at the back of the church. “Say what?”
“I think it’s cute.”
“I’m not sure people in their fifties want to be thought cute if they’re interested in each other. But are they, really?”
“Good point. And… yes, I think so. Time will tell.”
Tate shook his head. “You are tempting me to ditch Arlys and Jack in favor of being a fly on the wall at the diner, but I’d never be forgiven. Gotta keep the in-laws happy.”
“You say it as though you don’t like them.” Maxwell recalled some issues at first. Jack Simpson had been priming his daughter to marry a pastor for her entire life, and Eli Bryson in specific for a couple of years before Eli turned around and married Harper.
“We do okay now.” Tate grinned. “The boys help, especially Simon, though they’re pretty great with Jamie, too.”
“I should be going.”
Tate looked past him. “They’re headed to the foyer, with Eryn behind Keith and Nadine.”
“Should be interesting.”
“Keep me updated, bro.” Tate elbowed Maxwell. “On both developments.”
Maxwell only hoped there’d be something to report.