Reverend Martin paused at the corner that would lead him to the parsonage. “No one is suggesting that you have faith in young Mr. Scoville.”
Joella nodded. “I’ll pray about it.”
“You do that,” the minister said. “Put Jordan Scoville in God’s hands, see what happens.”
The two women continued the three blocks to their little houses.
Claire shook her head, her golden curls lifting on a whiff of cool breeze. “I say leave Jordan Scoville in Fred Roseforte’s hands. That would serve him right.”
Joella laughed. “Nobody deserves that.”
“That’s always been your problem, Jo. You think everybody’s good at heart.”
Joella thought of the man who had fathered her son then walked out on them both, and knew that wasn’t true. She thought of the drunk driver who had robbed Claire and her two boys of their husband and father, and knew it wasn’t true.
“I think everybody could be good at heart,” she clarified for her friend. “We’re all God’s kids, after all.”
“Yeah, well, some of God’s kids ran away from home and don’t even call on holidays,” Claire said.
“I know.”
Was Jordan Scoville one of those? It certainly appeared so. The Reverend Martin was right, the only thing that had a chance of working was to leave the man in God’s hands and hope for a miracle.
“What are you going to do, Jo, when they shut down?”
Joella heard the hushed whisper of fear in her friend’s voice, mirroring what was in her own heart. The two of them had grown up in this town, spent virtually their entire lives here. What did they know but Bethlehem and Scoville Mill?
“My brother said I could stay with him.”
“I guess big brothers do come in handy from time to time.”
“He thinks I ought to go to the technical college.” J.T. had plenty of ideas about turning his younger sister’s life around. He always had. Get out of Bethlehem, he’d been saying for years. Make something of yourself. Maybe he was right. He had a good job at the cement factory in Spartanburg, a nice little house with a low-interest mortgage payment, a new pickup truck every couple of years. And what did Joella have?
“I was thinking of that, too,” Claire said. “I could get nurse’s training. What do you think about that?”
Joella thought it sounded scary, starting over. She wondered what Claire would do with her boys and how she would get by financially if she decided to go to school. How would she manage a new town with traffic and strangers and more living expenses? The same fears Joella had for herself. She remembered starting over, and she didn’t want to go through it again.
“That sounds exciting,” she said. But she knew she hadn’t managed to work much enthusiasm into her voice. A glum silence hung in the air for a moment. “And scary.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
They reached Claire’s house first. Claire paused before turning into her sidewalk. “It’s not always going to be this hard, is it? We’re not always going to be struggling just to get by, are we?”
“Of course not,” Joella said softly, remembering how she’d clung to her faith after Andy left her. And God had seen her through it. “Things will look up.”
“Right. And you’re going to whip Jordan Scoville into line.”
Joella grinned. “He’s quaking at the thought.”
Jordan replaced the phone in its cradle and looked across the desk at Venita. “Okay. It’s a done deal. They’ll be here in three weeks to start dismantling the Christmas decorations.”
The barest of creases marked her forehead, but her eyes were full of censure. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you not promise Joella Ratchford to inform her before you made any major decisions concerning the town?”
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