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never visited her.
    I wanted to pinch her and tell her to make an appointment if she needed counseling, but my attention was diverted by Sarah Manning, who whispered, “We’re all with you, Miss Julia.”
    Before I could respond, the crowd separated us, and I had no opportunity to ask her what they were with me in. But her comment shook me, because the only thing I was in was trouble with Brother Vernon Puckett, and nobody was supposed to know about that.
    When finally we were able to approach Pastor Ledbetter, he reached past me to shake Sam’s hand, in spite of the fact that mine was extended in plain sight. I withdrew my hand and moved on out the door.
    â€œOh, Miss Julia,” the pastor said, just as I thought I was on my way. “I’d like to have a little chat with you. Would you be available this afternoon?”
    It took me a moment to gather my wits, for every previous time that the pastor had wanted a little chat, it had been to correct and admonish me. And on this day I was in no mood to subject myself to such a session again.
    I glanced at Sam, whose eyebrows were slightly raised, indicating that he was at a loss, too. “Sam and I will be home all afternoon,” I said, trying to be hospitable. “You can drop by any time that’s convenient with you.”
    â€œIf it’s all the same to you,” he said, meaning that it didn’t much matter whether it was or not, “it would be better to discuss this in my office. About three o’clock? And, Sam, if you don’t mind, this is something between Miss Julia and me.” He smiled his ingratiating smile, and went on, “I’m sure she’ll confide in you, and have the benefit of your advice and good sense.”
    I drew in my breath sharply, about to announce in no uncertain terms that I could count on my own personal good sense. But we were overtaken by the crush of people anxious to get home to their Sunday dinner, and out the door we went. I took Sam’s arm as we started down the sidewalk, holding it tightly as I fumed over the pastor’s words.
    â€œWonder what that’s about?” Sam mused, guiding me around a root that had penetrated the sidewalk.
    â€œThere’s only one thing he could possibly want to talk to me about, and that’s Brother Vern and his fairy tale of Little Lloyd’s ill-gotten gains.” And with that thought, I stepped out right smartly, already preparing myself to do battle with another man who had done his level best once before to grab a share of the Springer estate. Even then Pastor Ledbetter had raised questions about Little Lloyd’s paternity, asking how I could be sure that Hazel Marie wasn’t playing me for a fool. And all because at some point, and for some unknown reason, Wesley Lloyd had hinted around to the pastor that he planned to make the church his primary beneficiary, with a lifetime trust for me. Which meant that I would’ve been a supplicant to Pastor Ledbetter and his faithful session for my livelihood.
    The best thing Wesley Lloyd had done, although it hadn’t seemed that way at the time, was scribbling out that last-minutelast will and testament, leaving everything to the child he knew to be his own. He’d cut out both me and the church, but since the church wasn’t his widow and I was, I got what was coming to me anyway. Namely, half.
    And I intended to hold on to it, while keeping the other half safe for Little Lloyd and out of the hands of the likes of Brother Vernon Puckett and Pastor Larry Ledbetter.

Chapter 6

    â€œI’ve a good mind not to go,” I said, glancing at my watch as it neared three o’clock. Sam and I had been enjoying our day of rest, sharing the Sunday paper in the living room, while Hazel Marie and Little Lloyd were off somewhere with Mr. Pickens.
    Sam grinned, looking at me over the paper that he read from one end to the other. “You defying the preacher