The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots (31 page)

“They were digging up a body,” Opal said.

“What?”
Lily’s and Reba’s mouths fell open.

“A body? As in a person’s body?” Lily stared at us.

“Yup.” Opal bit into a gingersnap.

I noticed Atticus looking down at his coffee. Something wasn’t right about him. Maybe he was upset about Milo.

“What body? Was it a former pastor?” Reba joked.

We all laughed.

Opal leaned in and looked around. “Apparently, it was their great-grandfather’s mistress.”

“Mistress?” Lily choked on her tea.

Opal sat back and nodded. “According to the sheriff, Norman’s father was told that their great-grandmother had shot and killed their great-grandfather’s mistress.”

“I don’t know what’s more shocking,” Lily said, “the fact that they burned down the church or that their great-grandfather had a mistress and killed her.”

“Actually.” I took a bite of a peanut butter cookie. “As it turns out—he didn’t.”

Reba furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand. But who was buried under the basement?”

“They
thought
someone was under the basement. But there wasn’t anyone there. All the sheriff found was a metal box with some papers and a whiskey bottle.”

“No way.” Reba slapped her forehead.

Lily raised her eyebrows. “A whiskey bottle in the Maguire family? Oh. My. Stars. That’s juicier than a mistress by a long shot. Especially the way Bernice goes on and on about drinking. What else did the sheriff find?” Lily leaned forward.

“Kirstie, is this gossip?” Opal looked at me with a serious expression.

“It’s going to be in the paper, Opal. As far as I know, it’s all public information.”

“Oh, poor, Bernice.” Lily shook her head.

“Poor Bernice? After the way she’s treated you and everyone here? No, she’s getting what’s coming to her.” Reba waved off Lily’s pity.

“Well, personally,” I said, “I don’t want what’s coming to me, and I hate to see anyone get their comeuppances so publicly and shamefully. She’s got to be mortified.”

“Mortified about what?” Lily tilted her head.

“About the box,” Opal said.

I looked at Atticus and winked to cheer him up. He didn’t respond.

“I think I’ll go see how pastor’s holding up with Timmy and the boys and let you girls catch up by yourselves.” He walked away. What troubled him?

We all waved. “Bye, Atticus.”

Reba grew impatient. “C’mon, much as I’d love to sit and chat with Lily, I don’t have all day. Get to the bottom of the story.”

“Well, as it turns out, inside the box were papers. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Kirstie, you tell it, you know more of the details than I do.” Opal took another sip of her tea and gave me her doe-eyed look.

“Inside the box were papers signed by Norman and Bernice’s great-grandparents, Harriet and Oliver Maguire.”

“Wait a minute. Norman and Bernice have the same great-grandparents?” Reba looked at me sideways.

I nodded. “Yes, I’ll get to that in a minute. Anyway, the ‘mistress’ was the whiskey bottle that Oliver promised in writing he’d never drink from again. Apparently, he had a bad alcohol problem. The liquor was the mistress. But Harriet had a twin sister name Hazel who died in a runaway horse and carriage accident. Through the years, rumors got started in the family that Hazel had an affair with Oliver and that Harriet killed her and buried her in the basement of the church.”

“How do you know her death was an accident?” Reba looked enthralled.

“The sheriff looked up the obituary in the newspaper archives because he wondered the same thing. There were eyewitness accounts in the paper.” I took a swig of my cappuccino.

“So that’s why Norman and Bernice fought the new expansion project.” Lily grinned.

“Yes.” Opal lifted her cup to sip her tea. “If we’d built the addition, that part of the floor would have been torn up and they were afraid that if someone found a body, questions would be asked, and old secrets would be revealed.”

I nodded. “Right. And with an investigation, another secret would surface.”

Lily and Reba leaned in, and Opal covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Another secret?” Reba’s eyebrows practically touched her hairline.

I nodded. “Get ready, this one’s a doozy.”

Lily groaned. “C’mon. Out with it already.”

I smiled, leaned in toward them and whispered, “Norman and Bernice are kissing cousins.”

43

Unfortunately, Lily had just taken a sip of her drink when I revealed that last bit of information. She spewed out her tea and showered everyone at the table. We froze for a second, looked at one another, and giggled like teenagers at a sock hop. I passed napkins around, and we cleaned ourselves up while the entire coffee shop stared.

“You’re kidding? Are you serious?” Reba’s hand went to her heart.

“Absolutely,” I said. “Not first cousins like their great-grandparents, but third cousins.”

“Let me get this straight. Their great-grandparents were first cousins?”

“Yes.” I wadded up my napkin and stuffed it inside my empty coffee cup. “They were first cousins, and they share great-grandparents in common. Marrying your cousin wasn’t all that unusual in those days, but you know how people talk about that sort of thing now.”

Lily nodded and wiped tea off the table. “So that’s why she never wanted children. It’s not that she doesn’t like children, it’s that she was afraid to have them.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible. And guess who else is related?”

“Who?” they spoke in unison.

“Elder Cobb. He has the same set of grandparents.”

Opal nodded. “That explains why he always backed Norman and Bernice. I could never figure that out.”

And why I saw him in the closet with a shovel.

Reba slapped her leg and howled. “Well, whadda ya know. We joke about this town and its inbreeding, but I always thought it was just talk!”

“Yes, well, every family has its secrets,” I said. “Trust me.”

I looked into Lily’s eyes. “Don’t you know Milo’s in heaven right now laughing his fool head off at the shenanigans down here?”

Lily smiled. “Yes. He’s having a pretty good laugh. He hasn’t had one in a long time. It’s good to know he’s happy now.”

“Speaking of happy, what’s going on with Atticus?” I looked at Opal.

“Why?” Opal took a gulp of tea and shoved a cracker in her mouth.

“He doesn’t seem to be himself. Is he feeling OK?” I could tell she was hiding something.

“I don’t know.” Opal shrugged and stared out the window. A tear appeared on her cheek.

“What’s wrong, Opie?” Reba reached over and touched her arm. “Did you two get in a fight?”

Opal nodded. “Sort of.”

“Why? What is it?” I moved to her side of the table and sat beside her.

“It’s silly,” she said.

“If something makes you cry, hon, it’s not silly.” Lily patted her hands. “Did he do something bad to you?”

Opal shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s quite the opposite.”

“The opposite?” Reba talked with her mouth full.

“He asked me to marry him.” Opal’s voice squeaked.

“Did you just say he asked you to marry him?” Reba nearly shouted and choked on her cookie.

Opal nodded, wiping more tears from her face.

I handed her a napkin.

“So? What did you say?” Lily’s eyes sparkled. It was the first time I’d seen them light up since Milo died.

“I said no.”

“Why?” we asked in unison.

“Because…I’m too old to get married. I’ve lived by myself for sixty-five years. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being married. What if I wake up one day, and I don’t like the way he smells or the way he looks?” She put her face in her hands and cried.

“Well, I can guarantee you something.” Reba patted her on the back. “You
will
wake up one day and not like the way he smells or looks. But, I’ve got a feeling you love him enough for that not to matter.”

Opal looked at us with realization in her eyes. “I do.”

“Then go after him, honey,” Reba said. “What are you waiting for?”

We scurried out to the parking lot as Atticus flew by on his Harley, ignoring our waves.

“Well?” Reba looked at Opal. Lily had caged it to the coffeehouse, but Opal and I had ridden our motorcycles.

“She’ll never catch up with him on her Rebel.” I pointed to Opal’s little bike.

“You’re right. But you can catch up to him on yours. Ride two up and go get ’im. We’ll follow you.”

We hurried Opal into her helmet as she climbed on my Sportster and sat behind me.

“Hold on!” I shouted and revved Heaven’s motor. “C’mon, girl. Let’s go catch us a man.”

“Yee-haw!” Reba shouted and joined Lily in her 4X4 truck. We flew down the road to capture the guy who had stolen Opal’s heart.

I drove faster than I’d ever ridden before. I don’t know if it’s kosher to pray for God to keep patrol cars away so you can drive over the speed limit, but I confess I did. Heaven easily shifted into fifth and gobbled up the miles. I figured Atticus was upset and probably driving faster than he should, too. I didn’t dare look down at my speedometer. I just rode hard.

A few miles down the road a combine inched along the highway and filled both lanes. When traffic was oncoming its operator pulled over to the shoulder. The monstrous farm implement was too tall and wide for me to see around it.

Oh no. God, please, please let it turn off. Please.

I hated passing vehicles on my motorcycle. The mere idea made my heart go into my throat. But we’d never catch up to Atticus at this pace. Lily honked and leaned out the window.

“Go around!” I could see her waving me around with her arm.

I shook my head.

I heard Reba yell, “Kirstie, go around on the shoulder! If he’s in the middle of the road no one’s coming.”

I couldn’t. There was gravel on the shoulder and riding on the stuff terrified me. No. I wouldn’t do it.

Lily gunned the truck and went around me and the combine. The combine saw her and pulled over enough for me to remain on the road, following like a blindfolded clown shooting out of a cannon.

Please, God, don’t let Opal die before she marries Atticus.

We passed the combine with room to spare.

Opal waved at the farmer, who turned out to be Deacon Jeff. Word would soon get out I was breaking the law on county roads. At the very least, Aaron would get a call.

It took us a good seven miles driving over the speed limit before we saw Atticus in the distance. And when we did, we laid on our horns, hoping he’d hear or see us and slow down. But he couldn’t hear us over the roar of his pipes. Oncoming traffic looked a little confused, and I laughed at the looks on their faces while leaning on my horn.

Finally, on a long, clear expanse of road I pulled up beside Atticus, who swerved slightly onto the shoulder because we startled him.

He gained quick control and pulled over.

I pulled my bike on the shoulder onto the grass beside a bean field.

Lily and Reba parked behind us.

Opal climbed off my bike, removed her helmet, and turned to look at me.

“Go on,” I said, motioning to her.

“Is something wrong?” Atticus’s eyes looked red from crying. It was all I could do not to run and comfort him.

I walked to the truck to stand by Lily and Reba. We gawked with no shame. This was better than a movie.

Opal looked into his eyes. “I…I don’t know what to say or how to say this.”

“What is it?” Atticus took a step closer to Opal and took her hands in his. “You gals must have been tearing it up to catch me. I wasn’t exactly moseying down the road.”

Opal looked over at us, and we gestured for her to keep talking.

Atticus looked at Opal, who looked like a delicate, frightened bird. “What is it, Opal, darlin’?”

“Nothing. I mean. Not nothing. Something. But, not really. I mean. I was wondering if. Well, if you would want to, I mean. When I said no, I didn’t really mean no. What I really meant to say was—yes.” Opal’s eyes shimmered.

I jumped up and down trying not to squeal.

Lily and Reba stood on each side of me not much more composed. Lily’s cheeks were wet with tears.

“Yes?” Atticus took a step closer to Opal and leaned down to listen.

“Yes. I’m an old woman, Atticus. But if you’ll have me, yes. Yes, I’ll…”

Atticus didn’t wait for an answer. He cupped her tiny chin with one big bear hand, wrapped his arm around her petite frame and kissed her as tenderly as a soft summer rain.

Of course, the Eels whooped it up like crazy, undignified Hoosier women.

Cars honked as they drove by.

Opal’s arms hung down like limp eels, and Atticus kissed her until she could barely stand on her own.

“Hey, Lady Eels!” Atticus hollered when he finally came up for air. “Hope you don’t mind, but I let her get away once. Ain’t gonna happen again. She’s ridin’ with me!”

Epilogue

I think people will talk about the fire that destroyed and rebuilt Eel Falls First Independent Community Christian Church for generations.

Goliath, already a legend, got his picture in the paper, and the mayor issued him a hero’s commendation with a plaque, which we hung over the fireplace.

But that was the least of the excitement for the next two weeks.

Right after Milo’s funeral, the bikers held motorcycle fundraisers to help raise money for expenses associated with rebuilding the new church. Because of Elder Cobb’s insistence last year that the church buy a cheaper policy from his brother’s agency, we were woefully underinsured.

Norman and Bernice were uncharacteristically remorseful, and the guilt drove them to sell some land. They gave the money to the church.

The ladies’ group sold cupcakes and other baked goods in front of the grocery store every weekend.

The Old Order German Baptists bought our cupcakes and resold them at the farmer’s markets for a profit along with their own baked goods. Their generosity raised enough money to carpet the entire fellowship hall with a little left over to decorate the nursery.