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consumed with responsibilities lately, he hadn’t had time to consider the opposite sex. Too many people were depending on him.
    But as he remembered Ruthie lifting her hair off her slender neck and tilting her head from side to side, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to get to know her. Even though she hadn’t been at church that morning, she still might be a believer. And if he didn’t do something just for himself, the pressure of his responsibilities would buckle him.
    He reached for his Bible. Tomorrow afternoon he’d go by the United, and with a little luck, he might run into Ruthie again.

Chapter Five
    â€œMorning, little cousin. Ever see the ex-convict?”
    The scent of hazelnut coffee filled the high school office as JohnScott set his travel mug on my desk. “Not a sign of him all weekend.” Swiveling in my office chair, I reached for the mug, knocking my name plaque to the floor.
    Ruthie Turner—attendance clerk.
    Darn that faux-wood block. Not only did it represent my shallow attempt to enter the business world, but it also served as proof I still resided in Trapp, still worked two jobs, and still lived at home. As JohnScott returned the plastic reminder to my desk, I sipped from his mug and told myself to be proud I had a name plaque at all.
    He shuffled to his teacher mailbox and sifted through its contents. “Maybe Clyde Felton doesn’t eat food.”
    â€œMaybe he came in the store on my off hours.”
    â€œMaybe he’s an alien, brain-sucking zombie.”
    I smiled at my cousin. He was the first person I saw every morning. The hall lights would flicker, one at a time, and I would know he had entered the building, unlocking the doors and getting the air running in the gym before coming by the office to check on me. He treated me like a child, but I didn’t mind. He was six years older and had been checking on me since elementary school. In fact, the hardest years of my life came when JohnScott attended college, and I still thanked the Lord he hadn’t gone farther than Lubbock.
    JohnScott inclined his head toward the door behind my desk and raised an eyebrow.
    â€œHe’s early today.”
    Surprisingly, the principal had arrived before either of us and shut himself in his office. Judging by the muffled drone coming from under his door, I assumed he was already on the phone.
    JohnScott sat on the corner of my desk and crossed his arms “Did I miss any news this weekend?”
    â€œNot really. I think Friday’s megagossip event exhausted the merry citizens.”
    â€œMight be a blessing.”
    I waved an interoffice memo. “The school board finally hired a math teacher to replace Mr. Rodriguez.”
    â€œAbout time. School started two weeks ago.” He reached for a pen and clicked it with his thumb. “That substitute was a sweet lady, but she didn’t know the first thing about calculus or trig. So who’d they hire? The woman from Sweetwater?”
    â€œDoesn’t say, but I figure either her or Wilmer’s oldest son.”
    JohnScott clicked the pen repeatedly until I swatted him in annoyance, and then he tossed it back on the desk. “Neither of them will do a lick to increase our test scores, but they’re better than nothing. By the way, you saw the Cunningham boy Friday night. He could replace Tinker, right?”
    At the mention of the name Cunningham, dread settled over me like a swarm of gnats. “Like I would know.”
    â€œWell, he’s obviously athletic. Even if he’s never played ball before, I could train him to run.”
    â€œOh, he’s played before.”
    JohnScott raised his palms. “You were saying?”
    I dug through my desk drawer, searching for a nail file and wishing we could talk about something else. Even though I had told JohnScott about Dodd being the preacher, I never got around to telling him about our conversation. Or my sappy smile. It was simply