afraid there's no going back, not even to apologize."

"No, I know he'll want to hear from you."

"Dare I pray that's true?" she asked as she walked into the hall.

"You'll never know without trying."

Don walked her out to her car and waved as she drove off. She'd covered half the distance back to

Fargo before she realized that she'd forgotten all about the purchase offer on the house she'd meant to drop off on her way out of town. She discovered the papers when she went into her purse to find money to pay for a fast-food lunch. The seller's signature line on the paper was still blank.

And Carrie was not one bit sorry. It no longer mattered who the buyer was or what they wanted to do with the house. Carrie knew what she wanted to do with it.

The flame of hope in her healing heart rose from a flicker to a low flame.

Bette strode into the church office panting. She pulled off her sun hat and fanned her face with it. "Hi, Harriet," she said, greeting the secretary who sat behind her desk.

"Bette, you look all tuckered out. Here, sit down and collect your breath." Harriet rose and pulled a

chair forward for Bette who sat in it.

"Thanks. Don't mind if I do." She dropped the hat to her lap and pulled a hankie from her pocket and patted her forehead. "Wish that rain hadn't pa.s.sed us by Sunday. It would have cooled things off for a while, at least. If it's this hot in July, what is August going to bring?"

Harriet laughed. "This is North Dakota, Bette. Remember? August could bring snow."

Bette joined her laughter. "Better not let the farmers hear you say that."

"What are you doing all the way over here at church on a Tuesday morning?"

Bette beamed as if with a surprise. "I'm here for Peter to give me something to do."

"Come again, dear?"

"Well, I was chatting with Peter on the way home from Carrie's house last weekend before she left.

When I told him I was bored, he said I should come over and someone would find something for me to do here. I feel so useless sitting at home with little to do since Maddie's gone."

"Peter had a good idea, I think. I could use the help."

"You have something that I could do to really help."

"Bette, there's plenty I'd love your help with, but I don't know what Peter had in mind and I can't ask him now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's a long story. I'm not sure I should be telling you."

Bette looked around. The door to Peter's office stood open. No one sat at the desk. "Where is he?"

"Well, I guess I can tell you that. He... he's in a meeting of the church elders."

"I didn't hear any announcement of a meeting."

"No, there was no announcement. It was just called last night. An emergency, they said."

"What's it about?" Bette asked, more than a little curious.

Harriet shrugged and didn't answer.

"Listen, Harriet. I've been a member of this church from the beginning--since before there was a building to hold services in. I have a right to know what's going on."

"Oh, Bette. It's terrible." Harriet leaned over the corner of the desk to release a flood of words. "Peter is wonderful for this church and now they're trying to... to fire him."

"What?" Bette sat upright, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"You heard me. Someone called a couple of the elders and told them they saw Peter leave Carrie Whitmore's house early Sunday morning after spending the night there. They said he stayed there with her most of the weekend."

Bette gasped, holding her embroidery-edged hankie to her mouth. "That's ridiculous. Those children wouldn't behave like that. You can't mean it."

"I do. And to top it off, the elders don't even know who called to report it. In both cases they left a message." Harriet looked out into the hall to be sure she wasn't being overheard. "They know it was a female voice though."

"What did Peter say about it?"

Harriet shook her head and clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Nothing yet. He's in the sanctuary learning what he was supposed to have done at this very minute."

"That poor boy."

Harriet smiled at the description. "He's no boy, Bette, and Carrie's no child. And that's exactly what this is all about."

"Hrumpt! Hog wash! When did they start the meeting?"

"Just a few minutes ago. It took a long time for them to get everyone together here on short notice."

"I'll bet the farmers are overjoyed about being in the church on a sunny summer day instead of out working the fields where they belong," Bette quipped. Pushing the heel of her palms on her thighs for support, she rose.

"Where are you going?" Harriet asked as she followed Bette.

"I'm going to pray in the sanctuary."

"You can't go in there with the meeting going on," Harriet scolded in a loud whisper.

"Just watch me!" Bette said as she exited the office.

Harriet scurried out behind her.

"Wish we had a balcony I could sneak into to listen... I mean to pray in without being seen."

"What about the last row of the choir loft where it's hidden behind the pulpit?" Harriet asked in a softer

whisper. "That good enough?"

"Perfect." Bette giggled. "I'm glad my sneakers are quiet."

One white and one gray head ducked low as the ladies made their way to the back loft seat.

"Let me get this straight," Peter was saying as they arrived. Bette was thankful his voice carried easily so

they could hear every word. "You're asking me if I spent the weekend with Carolyn Whitmore? How do you mean 'spent'?"

"You're making this harder than it has to be," one of the members complained.

"It seems to me that you're trying to fire me on grounds of immoral behavior. Just how easy do you want that to be?" Peter asked, his voice raised a few notches.

A murmur went through the board of ruling elders. Bill Bolton stood up--reluctantly, Bette thought, as

she peeked around the pulpit.

"Can we just hear the explanation of the charges once more, Hank? I'm sorry to sound dense, but I know Peter pretty well, and I've known Carrie since I delivered her. I can't imagine that what I think I'm hearing about them, is true."

"Yeah." A collective agreement was heard except for Hank Olson, the head of the board. Bette

watched as he shook his head and stood up again.

"Look, Peter, I don't like this any more than you do, but we have a complaint. We have to follow through on it. Someone called a couple of us..."

"Who?" Peter asked.

Hank shook his head. "It's not that I won't tell you, I can't tell you. It was a female voice--disguised with a cloth over the phone or something so it was m.u.f.fled."

"This is what you dragged me in from the field for?" an irate farmer asked. "A m.u.f.fled voice on the phone?"

"Now wait just a minute here," Hank insisted. "The caller said that she thought we should be aware that Peter spent the weekend at Carrie's house. And that he left Sunday morning in time to drive to church straight from spending the night there!"

"Rubbish," Bette whispered to Harriet. The men hadn't heard her because several of them were uttering the same sentiment.

"Now wait a minute. We all know that Carrie was mixed up in some questionable events several years ago. Ended quite tragically for her boyfriend. She's been away from town for years. We don't know what she's like now. Peter, I think you owe us your side of the story." Hank urged pompously, appearing to enjoy the role of the head of the board.

Peter sat on the back of a pew, facing his accusers who sat in the seats nearby facing forward. He shook his head. "Hank, I have no idea what happened in this town before I got here three months ago. But it doesn't relate to now. So you want me to tell you what I did this weekend?"

"Yeah," one of the men said. "Let's get this over with. I want to get back to work."

"You want to hear all about how we cleaned out Maddie's closets and dusty attic to remove everything that could be of use to someone? Or how I helped Carolyn pack up her grandmother's clothes? Would you like to hear about the drive when we took them to the mission in Valley City?" His anger grew with each proposal, so did his voice pitch. "Maybe you'd like to hear how tired I was Sat.u.r.day evening when I came here to my office and finished up on my sermon--something I normally spend some part of the daylight hours of each Sat.u.r.day doing while you're out fishing."

"But Sat.u.r.day night. What about overnight Sat.u.r.day? You were seen back there after dark."

Bette watched Peter run his hands through his hair. "Tell 'em, Peter," she whispered, but too softly for any of the men to hear.

Peter shook his head. "Guilty as charged."

Gasps from several men filled the silence.

"You spent the night with Carrie?" Bill asked incredulously.

Peter shook his head slowly. "Et tu, Doc? Do you really think I would? That I could, and still show my face here in the Lord's house Sunday morning?"

Doc looked at him a moment. "No, I don't think you would, whether you had to be here Sunday or not."

"But he was seen coming out of there Sunday morning. What about the witness?" Hank whined insistently.

"A witness that disguises her voice and won't show her face? You're believing her lies over my word that nothing improper happened?"

Most of the men were silent. Peter looked at the two or three who had said no. "Thank you for your support."