"That's a good one," Miss Wiggins said, her approbation pleasing me in spite of my natural aversion to her.

Miss Easley's face lit up. This was a question she could answer. "Well, I'd do everything I could do make the public aware of the sheriff 's department."

"Like what?" Miss Wiggins said. "You need to be specific."

"Well, uh, talk about it, and, uh, have my picture taken for the newspaper. You know, wearing my crown and all. Oh, and I could wear a sheriff's department ball cap everywhere I go. Gosh, I can't think of anything else. Right offhand."

I closed my eyes so nobody could see them rolling back in my head. I sighed and gave her an easy question. "Miss Easley, what are your plans for the future?"

"You mean, after the pageant?"

I nodded, and she started in with what I soon realized was an answer she was ready for. "Well, I want to dedicate my life to helping people, but I don't know just how I'll do it yet. I'm thinking of going to chiropractic school, or maybe be a veterinarian. I kinda feel like animals need help, too."

"Let me ask one," Miss Wiggins piped up. "Melanie, if you suddenly came into a million dollars, what would you do with it?"

I sank back in my chair, more than willing to give up the questioner's place. Maybe someone else could get some decent answers.

Miss Easley straightened up, her eyes alight. "A million dollars! Let's see, the first thing I'd do is give a chunk of it to my church. For, you know, foreign missions or a new Sunday school building or something. I couldn't enjoy it if I kept it all for myself. Then I'd build my parents a new house and buy them a new car. And put aside some for my little brother's college education. Oh, and I'd set up a scholarship somewhere for needy people, and give to the United Fund and maybe pay somebody's hospital bill, especially a little kid who's real sick or needs a special operation or something. I'd just do all kinds of good works and, you know, like that."

I didn't believe a word. For one thing, the girl didn't know the short distance a million dollars would go these days, which was not anywhere near far enough for her to be a public benefactor on such a grandiose scale.

It went on like that all morning, each contestant showing up at her appointed time and giving the answers she thought we wanted to hear, when she could come up with an answer at all. During the debacle, we learned to limit our questions to those concerning ambitions and public service. And even those were often stumbled over, but current events on the national or world stage drew nothing but blank looks. In spite of that, Miss Washington declared her intent to run for the presidency some day, which hadn't stopped some others, so maybe she would. And Miss Peavey wanted to be a volleyball coach and eventually run for sheriff of Abbot County. She may have thought that would win her points in the contest, but I could've told her that Sheriff Frady did not appreciate competition of any kind.

Miss Knowles either didn't have any ambitions, or she couldn't bring herself to disclose them. All during her painful interview, I kept thinking it might be best if she did drop out.

Bethany LaVane declared her intent to go to medical school if she could get her grades up. "But if I can't," she said, "I'm thinking about learning to do facials and massages and so on. You know, things that make people feel and look better, which is kinda like being in the health care field."

Tasha McKenzie had so many ambitions she made me tired just listening to her. "I plan to use my potential in the modeling world and be an example for young women all over America. Because, see, I'm a Christian, and you don't see many of them on the cover of Vogue. But I like fashion, too. You know, designing and marketing. Of course, I could combine designing and modeling, and be the first designer-model. I just want to make an impact on the world." She stopped and drew a breath, for which I was thankful. But then she went on. "But the bottom line is that I want to do what the Lord wants me to do. He hasn't spoken to me yet, but my daddy says he will. All I have to do is wait and be ready for the mission field or whatever he calls me to do. And of course, I want to get married and have children. That's the highest ambition of all, but I think with all my talents I can do that along with whatever profession I take up."

Both Miss Wiggins and Hazel Marie started to wind things up, but Miss McKenzie hadn't finished. "I can write, too, as you'll see when you hear my poem. And I'm real good in science and things like that, so I might be a doctor and find a cure for cancer or something."

Hazel Marie and Miss Wiggins sat in stunned silence at the breadth of the girl's ambitions. I finally managed to mumble, "Very impressive, I'm sure," and showed her to the door.

When the last one left, the three of us just sat for some little while.

"Let's cut out the judges' interviews," Miss Wiggins said, "and just have a few simple questions from the master of ceremonies."

Hazel Marie nodded. "Good idea."

That was a relief to me, for I didn't see a way in the world we could prepare the present contingent of contestants for a formal interview. The whole thought of them appearing cold before a trio of judges was enough to make me cringe. And who knew what kind of crazy questions Thurlow Jones would be just devilish enough to throw at them? He could have every one of the girls crying and spoiling their makeup and unwilling to go forward with the pageant. And what would Hazel Marie do then?

Miss Wiggins stood up, saying she had to be on her way. Just as we stood with her, there came an awful clanging and banging and a rushing sound of mighty waters. We all looked upward but, of course, couldn't see a thing because of the ceiling.

"Goshamighty!" Mr. Pruitt hollered. "Turn it off, Willie, turn it off!"

Lillian came flying out of the kitchen, her eyes big with fright. "They's water comin' outta the ceilin'!"

We hurried toward the stairs, just as we heard Willie go clattering down the back stairs. "Where's the main?" he yelled.

I veered off and met him at the dining room door. "What is it, Willie? What happened?"

"Busted a pipe. A big 'un, too." He waved a wrench in the air, then turned and sprinted to the back door. "Gotta turn it off at the main."

I took one look inside the kitchen and shut the door. Water was dripping down the walls and flooding through the overhead light fixture.

"Here, Miss Julia!" Hazel Marie thrust an armful of towels at me. "It's coming down the stairs!"

I hurried toward the stairs and started sopping up the water that was flowing like a fountain. Lillian's shoes were soaked through, so she kicked them off as she stuffed towels on a stair step. Miss Wiggins was doing her part, running back and forth from the linen closet bringing towels and sheets and blankets.

"Don't let it get on the Orientals," she said, surprising me that she knew what an Oriental was.

We could hear Mr. Pruitt stomping around upstairs, yelling his head off. "Dadblame the cussed, dadblamed luck! Hurry up, Willie! Shut it off! I'm drownin' up here!"

In the midst of our scurrying around, mopping and sponging and damming up the water, wouldn't you know but the telephone rang. Miss Wiggins ran toward the linen closet again, yelling, "Want me to get it?"

Hazel Marie, who was helping me hold back the flood, yelled back. "Take a message!"

It seemed forever before the waters subsided and Miss Wiggins turned up with an armload of towels that were no longer needed. Willie stomped back inside and slunk up the back stairs, his run to the rescue accomplished.

All of us were soaked to the skin, and in our exhaustion, we could only collapse on the floor to get our breaths. I couldn't bring myself to think of the damage the house had incurred. It was enough that we'd held back the flood.

Mr. Pruitt made a careful appearance on the landing. "Miz Murdoch? Sure am sorry 'bout that. These ole houses, well, I never knowed a water pipe to be where that one was. We busted through the wall, an' I be blessed if we didn't bust through a pipe, too. But we're insured, so don't you worry none."

What could I say? "These things happen, Mr. Pruitt, or so it seems. But you can fix everything, can't you?"

"Yes ma'am, we'll get to it." He turned to go, then thought of something else. "Oh, I don't guess you'll have water for a while. Got to get a plumber out here, an' you know how they are."

Lillian looked at me. "How'm I gonna cook supper 'thout no water?"

I put my head on my knees, done in by another thing that had gone wrong. I was about to get tired of it, wondering what I had done to bring down such trials and tribulations on my head.

But that wasn't the end of it, for Miss Wiggins said, "I hate to leave y'all with this mess, but I gotta take a prescription to a patient. Oh, Miss Julia," she called as she headed out the door, "that was Mr. Sam on the phone. He said he'd call back later."

Well, if that didn't beat all. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get up off the floor. While water inundated my house, Miss Wiggins was having a private conversation with Sam. And let me tell you, she had stayed on the phone longer than that little message would've taken.

Somewhere it says that God tries those whom he loves, but by this time that was little comfort. I'd had about all the trials I could stand.

Chapter 24.

With no water in the house, except what was still seeping from the kitchen ceiling, we decided to go to Sam's house for dinner. I'd called James to let him know we were coming, and you would've thought I'd given him a present.

"Y'all jus' come right on over here," he said. "I'll put something on what be the best dinner you ever had. You tell Miss Lillian she don't have to lift a hand. I'm cookin' tonight!"

And he did give us an outstanding meal, though no better than Lillian could've done. I didn't tell him that, though, just complimented him and thanked him for saving us from eating at Hazel Marie's favorite hamburger place.

Lillian, herself, was less than gracious, sullenly letting James fill some Tupperware containers to take home for Latisha's supper. "We ought to be mopping up that water," she told me. "It gonna rot out the flo'boards."

She was not happy with the way matters stood, and James's antics didn't help. I walked into Sam's kitchen and caught him jiving around her, chanting, "Po' Miss Lillian ain't got no kitchen. Can't do no cookin', 'thout no kitchen."

Lillian was so mad she didn't see me, and I'm not sure it would've mattered if she had. She picked up a long wooden spoon and waved it at him. "How you like tryin' to cook with yo' head rollin' down Main Street? You sorry thing you, git off from me an' stay off."

I cleared my throat, and they backed away, both looking a little shamefaced. James, though, was full of himself and couldn't stop smiling. I wished Lillian good night, assured her that we'd soon have the water back on, and sent her off, only slightly mollified.

"Lord, Hazel Marie," I said, as we entered our damp house a little while later. "I don't think I can take another catastrophe. If it's not a broken water line, it's James and Lillian at each other. I hope I can stand up under it all."

"I just hope our beds're dry, that's all I hope."

Even though Lillian had mopped the stairs and the kitchen before we'd gone to dinner, water had continued to seep down and collect in the corners. Hazel Marie and I delayed our bedtime to swab up the puddles and wipe down the walls.

"Careful on the stairs, Hazel Marie," I said, as she went up to bed. "They may be slick."

By the time I'd locked up and gotten to my room, I was almost too tired to prepare for bed. I glanced at the clock, noting that it was not as late as it felt, but wondered why Sam had not called back as he'd told Miss Wiggins he would.

I slid off my shoes and started rolling down my hose, almost tripping myself, getting to the phone when it rang.

Expecting Sam and ready to unburden this latest disaster onto him, I eagerly answered it. Instead of Sam's warm voice, though, I heard a deeper, more rhythmic one.

"Good evening, madam. Aaron Kincaid calling for Mr. Sam Murdoch, if you please."

"He isn't in at the moment. May I . . . Who did you say? Are you that preacher from Pigeon Forge?" I gripped the receiver, fearing that if I didn't hold it tight I'd lose him.

"Indeed, madam, I am a minister of the Gospel of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and my ministry has carried me to many places, including that of which you speak."

"Well, for goodness sakes, Mr. Kincaid. We've been looking for you." I sat down abruptly on the bed. "And not only us, but any number of other people."

"Yes, I've been made aware of that. It doesn't suit the Lord's purposes, though, for my whereabouts to become known at this time. Suffice it to say that I am no longer in Tennessee. I had the misfortune to perform a blessed ceremony for a certain Nashville star-"

"Sonny Sutton?"

"The very one. I was honored to do it for him and his beautiful bride, especially since he'd slipped off from that bunch of managers and agents and lawyers that follow him around everywhere he goes. Of course, they've gotten in their licks since then, looking into my background and checking my references and in every way delving into matters that belong only to the Lord and me."

I tried to break in and get an answer to my urgent question, but when a preacher gets on a roll, it's hard to slip a word in edgewise. He kept right on, but losing more and more of his dignified locution as he went. "But the Lord has showed me the reason for all that digging and delving they started in to do. That bunch of hangers-on of his didn't want Sonny marrying that girl. I don't know why, but they'da done anything to break 'em up, an' it just so happened that they used my Holy Ghost ministry to get 'em broke up, an' I've had to stay low ever since."

"Mr. Kincaid!" I was able to break in at last, talking quickly to get in what I needed to say. "Answer me one question. Are you or are you not qualified by the state to perform marriages?"

"Madam, I am qualified by the power vested in me by the grace of God and the baptism of the Holy Ghost, as well as by the authority of the East Tennessee Fire and Water Baptized Holiness Church, Sanctified, which unfortunately no longer exists."

"That doesn't answer my question." But I was afraid it did. "Please, Mr. Kincaid, just tell me. Does Tennessee, or any state, recognize the marriages you performed?"

There was silence on the line; then he said, "I have a higher authority than any state you could come up with. The Lord recognizes me, and that's all I need. I don't need the government telling me what I can and can't do."

Well, there it was. Sam and I were as unwed as we'd been before taking that road trip. "Mr. Kincaid," I managed to get out, "do you realize the position you've put us in? And not only us, but more than two dozen other couples? You may be able to flout the government, but we can't. My husband-I mean, my whoever-he-is-is an attorney, for goodness sakes, and this will ruin his reputation and his Christian testimony. To say nothing of my own. And, Mr. Kincaid, I can't imagine what my friends and neighbors would say, if the word got out that we haven't been legally married. I can't believe you could be so . . . so callous as to set up to marry people and not really do it." I was so mad by this time that I had to exert a mighty effort to get myself under control. "You've put us in a situation that is just ruinous, both spiritually and legally speaking."

I stopped to catch my breath, and waited for a response. It was a long time coming, and I began to wonder if I'd get one.

Then he said, "I can see you put a lot of stock in not getting crossways of the government. Me? As long as they don't bother me, I don't bother them. Now, Miz Murdoch, 'cause that's who you are in my view, I been reading the Abbotsville newspaper, 'cause I got kin here. I mean, there. I might've mentioned that to you folks on your weddin' night. Anyway, I got something real important to talk to Mr. Murdoch about."

"Well, he certainly wants to talk to you, too. In fact, he's in Nashville looking for you right this minute. Where are you, Mr. Kincaid? How can he get in touch with you?"

He waited so long to speak again that I was afraid he'd broken the connection. Then he said, "I been thinking. Seems like we both want something from the other, so there's no reason we can't help each other out."

"What could you possibly want from us?"

"Well, I heard from my folks that Mr. Murdoch's gonna judge a beauty contest, and it's real important to me that my niece come away with the crown. So, I tell you what, you get Mr. Murdoch to swing his vote her way, and even if Sonny or the law catches up with me, I won't let on that you and Mr. Murdoch stood before my altar. Seein' that you don't want it known."

"For goodness sakes, Mr. Kincaid, I can't do a thing about that contest. I'm not a judge. And Sam, well, Sam is absolutely incorruptible. There's no way he'd throw a contest."

"All I'm asking is for you to do your best to sway him. Use your influence on him. 'Cause, see, I'm about tired of layin' low, especially since everybody wants to interview me. I been keeping up with it, and one of them grocery store papers is offerin' five thousand dollars if I'll come forth and tell all about my weddings. They want to know who all I married, so they can track 'em down and see how they feel about doin' it over again."

"Oh, no, you don't want to do that. You'd be arrested or fined or something."

"The law won't do nothing but tell me not to do it no more. Sonny might come down a little harder, but whatever way it turns out, I got a list of all my weddings, and I guess it'll make good reading in the newspapers. Be headlines on CNN and Fox News, too."

I made a quick decision. "Who is your niece?"

"Ashley. Ashley Knowles."

Oh, my word, the worst contestant of them all, and he wanted her to win? And if I did manage to put a tiara on her head, who would believe it?

But he was running on, making his case. "She ain't never had a thing. Never been nowhere, never had a chance. All I'm asking is that she win this one thing, 'cause she's a good girl and all us Knowleses and Kincaids, we stick up for one another. Miz Murdoch, it ain't like me to hold something over somebody's head, but since you don't want nobody to know about me and my ceremonies, why, let's just say I'll scratch your back, if you scratch mine. And you can go on and get married all over again, if that be your intent, and I'll mark out the Murdoch name on my list."

It was pure and simple blackmail, that's all it was. But, then again, no money was involved, so I wasn't sure if it was so pure and simple, after all.

"Hold on, Mr. Kincaid. I'm thinking." And think I did. I knew that we could hurriedly get remarried on the sly as soon as Sam got back. That would make us legal, but it wouldn't free us from the ridicule if Mr. Kincaid made his full list public. And the public was interested, for which Sonny Sutton could be thanked. His marital mess was what had made the news, and ours and twenty-something others just made the story more interesting. But one thing I was certain of, there was no way in the world Sam would act dishonestly. And even if I could persuade him to, there were still Thurlow and Tonya to contend with. Getting to the judges wasn't my biggest problem, though. My biggest problem would be Ashley, herself, who could barely open her mouth in my living room, much less in a crowded auditorium.

"Mr. Kincaid? I can't promise anything. But if you'll stay quiet and out of the spotlight until our problem is rectified, I'll do my level best to make Ashley a winner."

"And may the Lord bless you for this good deed you're doing."

When I got off the phone, I could only sit on the bed and stare into space. What had I gotten myself into? How in the world could Ashley be transformed into a beauty queen? The child was not beauty queen material, and so painfully shy it hurt to look at her. Maybe I should throw it all in Sam's lap and tell him to either make her the winner or he could kiss me good-bye. I could move to Florida and get away from the public mockery.

But then there was Etta Mae Wiggins, waiting in the wings for just such a happenstance.

The more I thought about this latest disaster, the more I was convinced that every sign was pointing to one conclusion-the Lord was not happy with me. And all I'd done was marry Sam, or try to, anyway.

Chapter 25.