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wrote, though, wasn’t what you’d call deep. Mostly, Ruby Mae just wrote about how wonderful Prince was. Once or twice she’d even written about Rob Allen’s dimples.
    Ruby Mae craned her neck, scanning the rows behind her. The preacher was just getting to speechifying, and she didn’t want to be rude. But still, she was curious about whether Rob was here today.
    She saw her ma and nodded. Ruby Mae was surprised to see her step-pa there, too. He hardly ever came to church. He always said, “I don’t take no stock in a brought-on city fellow comin’ here, a-telling us how to live.” Maybe her ma had dragged him here today to show he was sorry for shooting the doctor and all.
    Just then, Ruby Mae caught sight of Rob sitting at a desk in the back corner. She gave a little wave, and he waved back.
    Miz Ida elbowed her hard in the ribs. “Behave, Ruby Mae,” she scolded.
    Ruby Mae sighed. Between Miz Alice, Miz Christy, and Miz Ida, you couldn’t take a breath without one of them telling you how and when and why.
    She focused her gaze on the preacher. His face was red, and his eyes were burning. He pounded his fist on the pulpit.
    Maybe she was missing something. He always talked mighty pretty, about God and love and such things, but she wasn’t much on listening to preaching.
    Still, there was a strange kind of silence in the church today. The usual coughing and shifting and baby-crying had stopped. The only sound was the shuffling of the pigs who often slept under the floorboards in a crawl space. The room was as still and waiting as the moment before a storm comes.
    â€œSome of you,” the preacher was saying, “feel that after a minister has finished his Sunday service, he should shut his eyes to everything going on outside the church. ‘Mind your own business,’ I have been told.”
    The preacher paused, gazing out at the crowded room. “Now, in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve done a lot of thinking about what Jesus’ attitude would be toward us here in Cutter Gap, right now in 1912. You’ll recall that Jesus said, ‘Everyone that doeth evil hateth the light lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light.’” The preacher took a deep breath. “He also said, ‘No man can serve two masters.’ In other words, you can’t serve Christ on Sunday, and then serve evil on Monday. That just is not possible.”
    A long silence followed. Suddenly, the preacher pounded the pulpit with his fist again, and Ruby Mae jumped.
    â€œMen and women,” he cried, “in this Cove there are those who are working at night—in the darkness—and they are serving evil!”
    His voice rang out, climbing into the high rafters. People shifted and murmured. What did he mean, Ruby Mae wondered. What evil? She looked over at Miz Christy for an answer, but her teacher’s eyes were glued on the preacher.
    â€œYesterday, we saw the truth of what I’m saying,” the preacher continued, his voice lowered to a near-whisper. “We had a celebration, a celebration for a woman, Miss Alice Henderson, who has devoted her life to doing God’s work. There was a race, you may recall.”
    The preacher fixed his gaze on Ruby Mae, and she felt prickles travel the length of her spine. Was he mad at her? Was she somehow doing evil? Sure, she’d been shirking her chores, but was that enough of a sin to get the preacher so all-fired angry?
    â€œRuby Mae Morrison surprised us all by winning,” the preacher continued. He smiled right at her, and she relaxed a little.
    â€œAnd then—” his voice boomed, “a shot rang out, and a man . . . an innocent man . . . nearly lost his life.”
    The preacher moved away from the pulpit. He walked down the aisle separating the two halves of the room. Ruby Mae had never seen him so angry. It scared her. Judging from the looks of