"It is worth our notice," he said, "that the Lord's earthly ministry began at a wedding. It was at this wedding-we don't know whose wedding it was, and we don't know in whose house it was performed-all we know is that it was in Cana-but it was there that he performed his first miracle-turning water into wine. Now, notice that it was a happy occasion, a joyful occasion, one that had brought guests from far and wide to join in the celebration. Jesus was there, and his mother and his disciples, and apparently many, many more. There were so many that the host ran out of wine before the festivities were over. And that was a shameful occurrence in that day and age-it indicated a lack of foresight and a lack of planning, and it was a lapse in hospitality, so much so that it would bring shame to the host. So the Lord's mother appealed to him to save the day. And the Lord looked around and saw six stone water pots, each holding two or three firkins apiece, and he said, Fill the water pots with water.' And lo and behold, when the host tasted it, he said it was good-that is, the best-wine."

Firkin, I thought. What is that? Glancing in the margin of the text, I found the answer: firkin, about nine gallons. I blocked out the pastor's drone, and made a few calculations. Each water jug held about three firkins, which translated into about twenty-seven gallons. So, six water jugs, holding twenty-seven gallons each, meant that the guests had one hundred and sixty-two gallons of wine, on top of what they'd already put away. No wonder they had a celebration.

The pastor paused, as he always did when he got to a subject he found hard to explain. "Of course," he went on, "it was new wine, unfermented, so this was not a drunken celebration. But it was a celebration, and we should ask ourselves why the Lord would choose what some might see as a private and personal event at which to begin his public ministry. These few verses, recorded only by John, reveal to us the Lord's stamp of approval on the marriage ceremony itself, and on the public celebration thereof. A marriage is not supposed to be undertaken in the dark, hidden away from family and friends and neighbors. It is to be performed in the light of day-that is, with the approval and goodwill of the community, as illustrated by this joyful celebration in Cana."

I sat stiff as a board next to Sam, listening intently as the pastor raked us over the coals for eloping over the mountains. Then he began cutting closer to the bone.

"So God blesses and honors the public union of a man and a woman. We have the proof right here." He held up his Bible. "In these verses, God shows us that we are not to cohabitate, willy-nilly, with first one, then the other, with nobody knowing who belongs to whom. We are to pledge ourselves publicly to one partner until death do us part, and we are to make that pledge openly and publicly so that the whole world knows who we are and what we are doing. That's why we celebrate weddings-they are public acclamations of private commitments."

He went on and on in this vein, but his message came down to one thing: Neither he nor God liked fornicators and adulterers, who worked their wiles under the cover of darkness, and if we knew what was good for us, we'd get married in plain view and stay that way.

Well, of course, that's what I was trying to do. But over and over, one thing ran through my mind: What did he know, and when, how, and from whom did he learn it?

Sam took my hand and slid a little closer, trying to soothe my agitated nerves and keep me calm. He knew what I was feeling, and how the pastor could get to me, especially when he couched directly aimed criticism in sermonic terms.

"What God is telling us," the pastor rolled on, "is that he honors with his very presence the union of man and woman when that union is sanctified according to his precepts and acknowledged by friends and neighbors. But those who would disdain what he has given for our joy and benefit, when they discount and ignore and ridicule his precepts, and claim they no longer apply in this day and age . . ." He paused for a extended moment of silence. "Those, he will surely judge."

He didn't have to tell me that. I already knew it. Why else had I banished Sam from my bed? I certainly did not want to have to defend myself before the Judgment Seat.

He'd reached a good stopping point, and I waited for him to give the signal to the organist for the closing hymn. Instead, he leaned away from the pulpit, swept his gaze across the congregation, and let us know that he had something further on his mind.

"Let us now," he said in a lighter tone, "officially welcome into the bosom of our church family Mr. and Mrs. Sam Murdoch." Then, to make known that he still had something against us, he said, "We've not had the pleasure of publicly acknowledging your recent union, so let us rectify that now. Sam, Miss Julia, will you stand so we all can share your joy. My friends, let us celebrate the blessed, sanctified, and honorable marriage of two of our most beloved members."

There was nothing to do but to stand in front of them all, while they smiled and clapped for what he had already said was all but an unblessed, unsanctified, and dishonorable union. I was trembling by the time we sat down, and kept on trembling while the pastor moved on through the rest of the service.

"Sam," I whispered as the collection plates were passed, "that was a repeat sermon. I thought it sounded familiar, and what he did was go through his files and come up with something he'd already preached on. And, if I'm not mistaken, he aimed it at me the first time around, too."

Sam leaned close and whispered, "He doesn't know a thing, Julia. As long as he's been here, he's bound to recycle a few sermons, and this one just happened to hit us. Don't let it bother you."

Easier said than done, as so many things are. But all I could do was carry on in my usual manner. But there was one thing I was even more determined to do, and that was to get Sam on the road so he could hold a few Tennessee feet to the fire. I wanted some answers, and I wanted them sooner than I was getting them.

As soon as the service was over, I hustled us out before Sam could get caught up in greeting people and shaking hands and asking after their families. He was a friendly and outgoing soul, but I didn't want to hang around to receive congratulations on our marriage, regardless of what Pastor Ledbetter had said about needing the approbation of the community. And I especially didn't want to risk getting a dinner invitation from LuAnne on the church steps. I wanted Sam well out of town, so I could tell her in good conscience that we had to regretfully decline. If I told her he was only planning to be gone, she'd insist he delay his trip, then get all upset and mad when I told her-as I would have to-that he couldn't. I was in no mood to deal with any of it.

Chapter 19.

When we got to the house, Hazel Marie and I headed for the kitchen to heat up the lunch dishes that Lillian had left.

"I want everybody to listen to this," I said as Sam and Little Lloyd followed us in. "If LuAnne Conover calls this afternoon or in the morning, I am not available. Tell her anything you want, but do not call me to the phone."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam said, and saluted.

"Oh, you." I couldn't help but smile. "Wash your hands, Little Lloyd. It'll be on the table in a minute. Sam, what time are you leaving tomorrow?"

"I'll pick up Lloyd as soon as school lets out. About eleven o'clock, Hazel Marie?"

She nodded. "Yes, all he has to do is get his report card and clear out his locker. And, Lloyd," she went on, turning to him, "don't lose that report card. I want to see it as soon as you get back."

"No'm, I won't." He ran his hands under the faucet at the kitchen sink. I handed him a bar of soap, and told him to try again.

I didn't know why Hazel Marie was so eager to check his report. There were never any surprises on it. Straight A's, because he was smart as a whip. I attributed his good showing mainly to my influence and the educational atmosphere I'd created for him in my home. I'd even bought a set of encyclopedias, for I'm a strong believer in education, although I often felt that the school system could spend taxpayer money more efficiently.

"If there's time, Julia," Sam said, "I'm going up and get out of this Sunday-go-to-meeting suit. Lloyd and I have lots of work to do this afternoon."

"Don't be long," I said. "We're almost ready to eat."

After he left, a knock on the back door interrupted our lunch preparations, and Hazel Marie answered it. "Why, James, what brings you here?"

In he walked, his hands full of covered dishes. He put them on the counter, and said, "This here's fresh creamed corn right outta my garden. I jus' pulled them ears this mornin'. And I got you a pot of green beans cooked with a chunk of fatback, like Mr. Sam like. An' 'cause I was in the kitchen anyway, I made him this peach pie. He like that, too, if you put a little ice cream on it."

"My goodness, James," I said, surveying his handiwork. "This looks wonderful. But what're you doing in the kitchen on Sunday? It's your day of rest."

"Well, I seen Mr. Sam lookin' kinda peaked here lately, an' look like he fallin' off a little. He need some good cookin', an' I knowed Miss Lillian, she don't work on a Sunday."

"That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you, James. I'm sure we'll enjoy it." I knew the offerings were going to send Lillian into orbit when she learned of them. "Sam'll be down in a minute, and I know he'll be so appreciative. But sit down, James, and have lunch with us."

"No'm," he said, heading toward the door. "I got to be movin' on. Tell Mr. Sam I brung him something he like."

When he'd left, I looked at Hazel Marie. "We'd better eat it all today. I don't want any of it left over for Lillian to see."

Little Lloyd cocked his head at me as I put a plate of deviled eggs on the table, picking up on a subject I thought had been closed. "Why don't you want to talk to Mrs. Conover? Are you mad at her?"

"Oh, goodness no," I said, with a little laugh, catching Sam's eye as he came to the table in time to hear the child's question. But of course I was, or if not exactly mad, somewhat put out because of her propensity for creating turmoil in my life. "We just have to get you and Sam packed and ready for your trip. I want to spend the time with the two of you without any interruptions, and LuAnne loves to talk on the phone. Interminably so."

Hazel Marie said, "I'm afraid we're going to have one interruption, Miss Julia. I set this up with Etta Mae before I knew Sam and Lloyd would be going off. She's coming over this afternoon so we can see where we are with the contestants. Maybe I should call and postpone it."

"No, don't do that. I'll help them pack, and your meeting will be the perfect excuse for me not answering if LuAnne calls. Everybody can say that we're having a meeting here, and it won't be a story."

Sam grinned and winked at Little Lloyd. "We think you'd better sit in on that meeting, just to be on the safe side."

Well, Lord, yes. I certainly did not want to put the boy in the position of having to outright lie. "I'll put in an off-and-on appearance, if that's all right with you, Hazel Marie."

"Sure. We could use your input," she said.

As Sam and Little Lloyd discussed what they'd need to pack, a sudden lost feeling swept over me at the thought of them being gone, even though it was in a good cause. Little Lloyd had been beside himself ever since Sam had broached the subject of an extended trip. The only hesitation he'd expressed concerned the beauty pageant. "Will we be back in time to go? I want to see who the winner is." And Sam had reassured him by saying that, since he was a judge, there couldn't be a winner until he showed up.

I looked at the child across the table, then back to Sam beside me, wondering which one I'd miss the most. "Eat your beans, sweetheart."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam said, and winked at Little Lloyd, who got so tickled he had to cover his mouth.

Having helped Sam pack his shirts, but leaving his undergarments for him to manage, I sat with Hazel Marie in the living room, awaiting the arrival of Miss Wiggins.

"I've got Lloyd all packed," Hazel Marie said, "except for that last load of clothes in the dryer. Nothing would do, but he has to take that T-shirt Coleman gave him, and of course it needed washing. He's upstairs, packing books and games for his Game Boy and no telling what else. Sam's awfully good to take him, but the car is going to be loaded down." She laughed at the thought. Then she frowned. "I hope they won't stay too long."

"I do, too. Not only because I'll miss them, but because I hope their return will put an end to the dilemma we're in. And you know Sam'll look after Little Lloyd. You don't need to have any worries about that."

"Oh, I don't. It's just that this will be his first long trip away from home." She got up and went to the window. "Here's Etta Mae now."

Just as Hazel Marie opened the door for Miss Wiggins, Sam came downstairs, making a most ill-timed entrance. I watched him as Miss Wiggins bounced in, all peppy and perky in tight blue jeans, boots with high heels and a sleeveless turtleneck sweater. Sam's face lit up with a welcoming smile.

"Why, Etta Mae," he said, extending his hand. "How good to see you. You're looking fine and fit."

I stiffened in my chair. He had no business noticing how she looked. I knew that Sam was a friendly man, always making whomever he met feel that they were the very ones he'd been hoping to see. He could talk to anybody and make them feel welcome and at ease. But I'll tell you, there's something to be said for a taciturn man in certain situations. Like this one.

"Mr. Sam," she cried, ignoring his hand and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, and giving me a flash of heartburn. "You are lookin' so fine. How's that leg? It giving you any trouble?"

"Not a bit. And it was your good nursing care that put me back on my feet. How's the world treating you these days?"

"Just great," she said, stepping back. "And I know it's treating you even better. I heard about your good news, so congratulations." She cut her eyes at me. "I hope you'll both be very happy."

She didn't hope any such thing. I expect she hoped we'd be miserable, and Sam would be single again. Hazel Marie was wrong about that woman, for here she was smiling and laughing and throwing herself around in front of Sam, obviously trying to show him what he'd missed.

The sooner Sam got on the road and away from temptation, the better. And the sooner he settled our marital status, the sooner I'd feel safe from the likes of Etta Mae Wiggins.

"Thank you," I said, with a quick nod of acknowledgement. Then, "Hazel Marie, let's get to work."

Sam left us then, saying that he and Lloyd were going to the Gulf station to check the oil and gas up the car. It suited me fine for him to be out of the house.

Hazel Marie and Miss Wiggins started right in discussing the contestants and their talents and attributes, so I allowed my mind to wander. They didn't need me, and as I had nothing to offer, I took the time to think over Pastor Ledbetter's sermon, as well as a few other matters.

As much as he could get my dander up in the best of times, I had to admit that his sermon had hit me where it hurt. I didn't ordinarily put all that much stock in whatever the preacher said, especially when he began wandering far afield in order to make a point, but he'd been right this time. The ceremonies of life, such as births, marriages, funerals, and debuts, should be observed with the appropriate social rituals. And the fact that Sam and I had not toed the line, socially speaking, brought me up short, making me question the decision I'd made to marry him in the first place.

Too much had gone wrong, and was still going wrong.

I rubbed my face, trying to get with the beauty pageant program, as Miss Wiggins giggled at something Hazel Marie had said. But my ruminations had made me realize that I'd better begin taking note of the signs springing up everywhere, warning me that all was not well.

Chapter 20.

Well, Lord, I had the most sorrowful feeling when Sam backed the car out of the driveway on his way to pick up Little Lloyd on his last day of school. The two of them would then head out for Tennessee, and who knew when they'd return. I had taken Sam aside before he left, or rather, he'd taken me aside for a private good-bye. "Hurry back, Sam," I said. "But don't leave one stone unturned. There's got to be a record somewhere. That would prove something, wouldn't it?" And Sam had hugged me close and said, "There's a record, Julia. I told you that. The problem is with the man's qualifications."

"Then find him and shake the truth out of him."

I stood with Hazel Marie and Lillian in the yard, watching until the car was out of sight.

"I don't think I can stand Lloyd being gone so long," Hazel Marie said, as tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked several times, and gave a little laugh. "I know he's old enough to be away from his mother. But I don't think I'm old enough to bear it."

"He be all right, Miss Hazel Marie," Lillian said, putting an arm around her. "Come on in the house now, an' put yo' mind on that beauty contest. That baby be back 'fore you know it."

"I should've gotten him from school," Hazel Marie said, wiping her eyes. "I could've kissed him and told him good-bye again."

"You done all that 'fore he went to school. I 'spect he have enough kissin' an' huggin' to last him till he get back."

I followed them in, fighting a few tears of my own. Here I was, barely married, or maybe not at all, and I was having to endure a worse separation than the one I'd suffered by denying Sam my bed. And that child was gone, too. I declare, it's a lonesome feeling when the ones you care about go blithely off, leaving you with an empty house and a hole in your heart.

Well, of course the house wasn't empty. Hazel Marie and Lillian were there, and so were the Pruitts, whose presence no one could miss, what with all the racket they made. And soon a half dozen contestants would be over, plus Miss Wiggins. And, if I knew her, LuAnne wouldn't be far behind.

She'd called three times the previous afternoon while Miss Wiggins was there and once that morning, asking to speak to me. Both Lillian and Hazel Marie had answered the telephone, and each time they'd faithfully put her off, saying that I was unavailable or busy or out. Sam was another matter, because he was so tender-hearted that he might've felt sorry for spoiling her plans, and begun backpedaling about making the trip. He didn't ordinarily answer the phone anyway, but I'd specifically cautioned him against it as long as LuAnne was gunning for me.

Not wanting to put Hazel Marie and Lillian in the position of telling an out-and-out story, I'd jumped up every time the phone rang. Hurrying out of the room, I'd mumbled that I needed to be excused. I made so many trips that Miss Wiggins asked Hazel Marie if I needed to see a doctor.

So, we'd barely gotten back in the house after seeing our men off, when LuAnne showed up on my front porch, just as I'd expected. When I opened the door, she barreled in, steaming.

"Don't you ever return your calls?"

"I was just getting ready to," I said, as I motioned her to the sofa.

She plopped down and crossed her arms. "I've been trying for two days to get you. And you're always gone or too busy or too something to pick up the phone. I declare, Julia, you're the hardest person in the world to do something for."

"Well, I'm sorry, LuAnne. It's just been a madhouse around here, what with beauty contestants in and out, and Hazel Marie handing me a dozen different things to do, and Mr. Pruitt needing praise for every nail he hammers in, and Miss Wiggins demonstrating the proper way to walk, and Little Lloyd's school getting out for the summer, and, well, a million other things. But I was just about to call you, now that I have a little quiet time to enjoy a chat."

"Yes, well, please do fit me in your busy schedule." LuAnne was not going to be appeased so easily.

"So, tell me, what did you want to talk about?" Then I jumped up, not yet ready to hear what was on her mind. "Would you like some iced tea? I'll ask Lillian to bring it in."

"No, I wouldn't like iced tea or anything else. I want you to sit down and give me one minute of your time."

I eased back onto the sofa. "All right."

She inhaled deeply, her mouth still set in a tight line. "Leonard and I want to invite you and Sam to have dinner with us at the club this Saturday night."

"How very nice, LuAnne. I'm sure we'd love it-"

She began to rise. "We'll pick you up about seven."

"-except we can't."

She fell back against the pillow. "What? But you have to. I mean, I already have our reservations and everything."

"I am so sorry, LuAnne, but Sam and Little Lloyd just left for a week or so in Tennessee. That was another reason I couldn't take your calls. Busy getting them ready to go."

"Tennessee! Why?"

"Well, you know that Sam's working on a legal history of Abbot County. Apparently there're some judges and attorneys he wants to interview who've retired there." I thought that was a reasonable and perfectly logical explanation, although not entirely true.