Searching for Anna by Jenifer Carll-Tong (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

As promised, Phoebe's father bought everything on the list. Everything, that is, except the mirror - after seeing the prices, she refused to let such an extravagance be purchased. It had been a hard-won battle, one that amused the mercantile owner Jack Simmons, Mary's husband. However, Phoebe eventually won out. And, though she hated to admit it, the nagging voice of Mrs. Smith chiding her about her 'fancy ways' and 'airs,' helped Phoebe decide that a mirror was not a necessity.

At the time, it seemed like a wise choice. But, back at the parsonage, as she readied herself for dinner with the Speers, she began to doubt her decision. Phoebe had never been one to worry about fashion or beauty, but she certainly wanted to appear neat and tidy to her new congregants. Now, thanks to her own stubbornness, she had no mirror with which to check her appearance.

Still frustrated with her own shortsightedness, she carried the water she had used for washing to the back of her yard to dump it. As she turned back to the house, she noticed how the windows reflected the trees behind her yard and it gave her an idea.

She positioned the water bucket upside down on the ground under one of the windows, but it wasn't quite tall enough. She looked around her overgrown garden and discovered an old, dented washtub. She replaced the bucket with the upside-down washtub, then placed the bucket on top of that. If she stepped on this makeshift platform on her tiptoes, she could see the top half of her head reflected in the window. From this view, she was able to repin some loose hair back into her bun and smooth out her chignon until she was confident that she appeared neat but not overly fussy. Satisfied, she climbed down from her makeshift platform.

"Fancy city girl, indeed!" she said as she swung the bucket over the water pump's handle. "The only foolishness in me is letting that woman get under my skin."

She walked next door to the church. She opened the door and looked at her new sanctuary for the first time. It was plain – no, that wasn't quite right. Simple was a better word - pretty in its own way.

Mrs. Speer had said that the small church would seat a hundred. The pews appeared handcrafted - most likely by a local, Phoebe mused - from a beautiful white pine, as were the pulpit and cross that hung on the wall behind it. The walls were simply painted white, and the ceiling was just the exposed timber stained to match the pews.

Tall, thin windows flanked both sides of the sanctuary letting in beautiful, natural light. There was a quiet reverence about the place, the likes of which Phoebe had never experienced in the many churches she had visited while in college. Then again, none of those had meant to be hers.

She walked down the aisle and climbed the stairs to the platform. The pulpit was simple also, but well crafted, with a beautifully carved cross adorning the front of it. She stood behind it and looked out where her congregation would be sitting in just a few short days.

"It suits you," her father said from the back pew.

So engrossed in her own musings, she hadn't noticed her father. She descended the platform and slid into the pew next to him. "It could use a good dusting, but other than that, I think it's a pretty little church." She sat next to her father.

He didn't respond. She turned to see if he had heard her and saw tears on his weathered cheeks.

Phoebe grasped his hand. "Daddy, don't worry about me. I know it's a little church and a little town, but God is here."

"I know that, darlin'. I'm just overwhelmed by the blessings God is bestowin' on ya. When I first read that letter all those weeks ago, I thought you'd be comin' to a desolate place with a shack of a building for a church. But God has sent you to a real church building in a town full of people hungry to hear God's word. People who've been praying for a pastor. I thought you were going to have to build the congregation from the ground up, but you are beginning with at least five, maybe six, families. That's more than most new pastors have. Don't get me wrong, this is going to be hard work, but I won't worry so much knowing what I know now."

Relief washed over her. "Well, all I'm worried about now is missing our ride to dinner. We'd better get back to the parsonage before the Speer boy comes looking for us."

As they left the church, a state trooper rode by, tipping his hat as he passed them.

"Is that him?" she asked after he passed.

Her father looked up. "Hmmm? Oh, nope. Not met that one yet."

"How many constables does this little town have?"

"Well, let's see. I've counted four so far, counting that one there."

"Well, then, how will I know which one to thank?"

"My heavens, Phoebe. You have a way of finding things to worry about." He placed his arm around her shoulders. "Don't you worry. I'll talk with him tonight and let him know you are anxious to meet him."

She could feel her cheeks grow warm. "No, don't say that!"

Her father laughed heartily and, realizing that he was teasing her, she elbowed him in the ribs. "I should have known. Why would you see him tonight, anyway?"

"Did I forget to mention that's where I'm staying tonight? Made arrangements with that officer you saw me speakin' with. Said I'm welcome to one of their extra bunks as long as I'm here."

"A bunk at the constabulary? That will be so uncomfortable for you!"

"It's better than spending the night in one of their jail cells, I suppose," he chuckled. "Don't you worry none. It'll be like I'm back in the military. Besides, it'll give me a chance to scope out all those young foxes that'll be crowdin' into that church once they realize the new pastor's a beauty. I gotta put the fear of God in 'em while I'm still here, don't I?"

Phoebe groaned, knowing that although he was teasing her, her father wasn't entirely joking.