Pastor Jacob Stone strode down the carpeted halls of the unfamiliar church, hoping he was headed in the right direction. He’d told the nervous bridegroom he’d be back in five minutes, and he was way past that deadline now. “My notes for the budget meeting are in the blue folder, Arlene. Keep looking.”
“Good gracious, Jacob, this desk is like a landfill.” He could hear rustling through his cell phone as his elderly secretary rummaged through stacks of paper. “No wonder you can’t keep track of anything. Okay, I’ve found the folder. What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Make copies and take them to the conference room.” Jacob checked his watch. “Then just sit in for me until I get there. I shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes late. Twenty-five, tops.”
“Five minutes late would be too much.” Arlene made a tsking sound. “You’re already on thin ice with Digby Markham because you skipped out on his businessmen’s luncheon last week. I really don’t see why you agreed to do this wedding. It’s not even at our church.”
“I told you—it was a last-minute thing. Pastor Michaelson came down with the flu.” Jacob halted in front of the third door on the left. He was almost sure this was where he’d left the groom.
“Yes, but I don’t see why Good Shepherd’s emergency is our problem, especially when you already had Digby’s meeting on the calendar. You need to start saying no.”
“We’re talking about somebody’s wedding, Arlene. I couldn’t say no.”
Well, he could have. He just hadn’t wanted to.
From the moment Digby had taken over as the chairman of Pine Valley Community Church’s board, the banker had been clogging Jacob’s schedule with endless meetings, all of which circled back to the same old topic: whether or not their little church should construct a fancy new fellowship hall.
Jacob already knew his answer to that question, and he was tired of arguing the same points over and over. A last-minute wedding made a welcome change.
Arlene sighed. “You really need to watch your step right now, Jacob. The whole church is up in arms, and people are choosing sides. Digby might be a frustrating old fusspot, but plenty of folks are backing him up on this.”
“We don’t need a new fellowship hall. There are way too many genuine needs in our community for us to waste money on a new building when the space we already have is perfectly—”
“Adequate.” Arlene finished the sentence with him. “So you’ve said. But it may surprise you to know that there are a good many people in our church who don’t agree with your ideas of what’s adequate.”
No, that didn’t surprise him. But it worried him. His church was pretty much the only family he had. He didn’t like being on the outs with them. Still, it was his job to make the right decisions, not the popular ones.
“I don’t think it sends the right message for us to fundraise right now. Since the textile plant shut down, half our town is out of work. We can talk about a new fellowship hall later, when our neighbors aren’t worried about losing their homes.”
“I’m already on your side, so you can save your breath. But I’ll tell you this—a lot of people with some serious social clout want this fellowship hall to go forward. If you don’t let them have it, you stand a good chance of losing your pulpit.”
His cranky secretary actually sounded worried. “Aw. Would you miss me, Arlene?”
She snorted. “Don’t you flatter yourself. I’m just too old to train up another new preacher. Now, enough of this jibber-jabber. You’d best get that couple married and get back here where you belong.”
Jacob sighed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Arlene was right. He needed to get back to Pine Valley Community as soon as he could.
First, though, he had a wedding to perform and a spooked groom to deal with.
He needed to focus. Jacob closed his eyes and murmured a prayer.
Then he sucked in a deep breath, fixed a smile on his face and pushed open the door to the choir room.
“All right! Let’s get this show on the...”
He froze, the rest of his cheery speech forgotten as he took in the scene in front of him.
Long gray curtains rippled as a chilly April breeze blew through the open window, filling the room with the smell of pine trees and wet asphalt. A crushed white boutonniere lay discarded on the carpet. The groom... What was his name again?
Adam Larkey.
Adam was nowhere to be seen.
Jacob’s heart gave one slow, painful thump, then revved into high gear. He crossed the room in two strides and batted the fluttering curtains aside to scan the damp parking lot. Sure enough, a bumper-sticker-encrusted Jeep that he’d noticed earlier had vanished, replaced by a rectangle of dry pavement.
Oh brother. This was bad.
Really, really bad.
The ceremony was due to start in exactly eight minutes, and Elvis had left the building.
He’d never had anybody actually bolt