My patience was waning.
For hours, I’d done everything I was supposed to do—I’d led the hour of reflection, I’d counseled one of the local youth who had stopped by unannounced looking for guidance, I’d answered phone calls and offered prayers. Dealing with the church council—the governing body of the congregation—was getting on my last nerve.
“Pastor Noah, I’m not sure you’re understanding our concerns.”
I glared up at the man in question, the one who had never been supportive of anything I’d wanted to do for the congregation. “Considering you’ve reiterated them six times now, I’m pretty sure I’ve got them.”
Charlie, the president of the council and usually one of the more progressive members, sighed. “Henry, I’m going to have to agree with Noah here. You’ve voiced your concerns over the pastor’s social life. Why don’t we move on to other business?”
But there was no other business, and everyone staring at me from the other side of the table knew it. We were here solely because Henry and his wife were now aware Harper and I were an item and didn’t like it. I knew how people talked about her, knew there would be chatter among some of the more closed-minded townspeople. I hadn’t expected it to be so soon, though. And I hadn’t expected to be unsure of my relationship’s viability with her when the shit hit the fan.
“Pastor Noah?” Charlie said, regaining my attention.
“What?”
“I just wondered if there was anything else you’d like to say before we close out this emergency session?”
Yes. I wanted to read to them from the Bible, to quote the scriptures regarding how Jesus chose to treat others around him. Wanted to sermonize on kindness and withholding judgment, on the good found in someone’s heart and the evils of forcing your views on others. There was a lot I wanted to say, but first, I needed to get to Harper. I needed to fix whatever the hell had happened in front of her shop this morning.
“No,” I said, taking to my feet. “I have things to do.”
“You mean like shaving?” Henry asked, the implication clear in his voice.
I turned slowly on my heel, unable not to. “Is that really what you want to discuss here? My grooming habits? I realize your wife has had some sort of obsession with the infrequency of my shaving, Henry, but I didn’t realize that had bled over into you as well. So let’s deal with this.”
I stepped closer to the table, opening my arms in invitation and letting my pastor voice gain volume. “I don’t shave during the week. That’s a capitulation to this very council, who didn’t want a pastor with facial hair. If it were up to me, I’d have a beard right now. But I compromised. You all might want to look up the definition of that word and find your own places to compromise.”
All five of them seemed to find the paper in front of them very important in that moment, the cowards. But if they thought I was done, they were wrong. Very, very wrong.
“I’d like to remind you all that my sermons are strong and well received, the pews are filled for every service on Sunday, and the offerings are far exceeding expectations. I won’t be nitpicked, and I certainly won’t allow anyone on this island or beyond to insinuate there is something inherently sinful about Harper Davis. I fully intend to continue speaking the word of the Lord in the manner I see reaching the people of this community, and I definitely intend to live up to the credo of love thy neighbor when it comes to Miss Davis.”
I grabbed my notebook, too angry give a thought to procedures and policies. They’d crossed a line, and I refused to slink away without them understanding that. “If you want to be petty enough to imply I’m not the right leader for this congregation simply because of my lack of shaving or whom I choose to date, then perhaps you should consider convening a committee to find another pastor. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I let the door slam behind me as I stalked out into the hallway. Enough was enough. I could handle the jokes about looking young and the side comments about my weekday beard. I dealt with long hours and little pay, with apathy and lack of empathy for people within their own community. I would not—could not—deal with anyone attacking Harper simply because I chose to date her. She was joy personified, light and hope in one hell of a package.
And she was angry with me.
When I finally made it outside, I nearly howled in frustration. Sin was busy. Too busy for me to go barging in and demand Harper stop doing her job just to appease me. That would go over like a lead balloon. I’d need to wait for a bit, give the place time to clear out. Maybe give myself time to collect my thoughts.
“Pastor Noah?”
Or give people time to track me down. “Officer Nash. It’s good to see you.”
“You all right? You look a little…”
Yeah, I was sure I did. “I’m fine. I was hoping to go see Miss Davis about something, but I don't want to interrupt her customers.”
“It’s Jane’s Hour tonight.”
“Pardon?”
“Jane’s Hour…like Jane Doe? Harper brings in different speakers to host discussions for victims of sexual assault. Tonight, it’s a sex therapist who wrote some book about reclaiming your sexuality after abuse. I volunteered for guard duty since it’s so dark when the meetings end. We like to make sure the ladies all make it to their cars safely.”
“Right. I forgot.” Well, now I definitely couldn’t interrupt her until I knew her evening was over. Not when she was doing something so important and needed in the community. The lingering doubt was going to kill me, though.
“You okay, Pastor?” Connor asked, cocking his head as he looked me over.
I couldn’t imagine what he saw as an officer of the law—I was still wearing my clothes from the day before, still hadn’t had time to brush my hair or wash my face, and I was probably twitching like a junkie looking for his next fix after having been away from Harper for so long.
Shit, he’d asked me a question.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s been a long day. I’m…” But I didn’t have an answer for him. How could I? Societal norms dictated that I should tell him I was fine and be done with it, but was I? No, I wasn’t fine. Far from it. Angry? Yes, slightly. Frustrated? Totally. Hurt?
Exponentially.
Connor gave me one more look then seemed to relax. “If you weren’t a pastor, I’d say you need a beer.”
I shot a glance across the street to the shop where my Harper was inside, doing good work. “You know what? I do need a beer.”
He laughed and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Then maybe you should get one. Since you’re home and all.”
“Want to join me?”
“Next time. I’ve got to keep an eye out tonight.” He turned as if to leave, but before he took more than two steps, he swung back around. “Pastor?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s a good person.” He nodded toward Sin. “Don’t ever let the pearl-clutchers brigade make you think otherwise. Harper does a lot for Temperance Falls—for the women, specifically. She’s a gift to the community, and no one had better say different around me.”
Sometimes words were just words, but other times, they were a map leading you to the place you needed to be. While I’d been upset about how things had played out with Harper today, I’d forgotten to consider my actions through her eyes. The woman who had to fight every day to be accepted, the one who was stared at, who built another layer of protection around herself when people started to whisper about her. I’d left her naked in her bed with little more than an offhanded comment and a kiss on the cheek.
I was an idiot.
“Thank you for the reminder. I needed that tonight.”
“Any time.” Connor nodded once, then headed toward Sin once more. “Enjoy your beer.”
But beer was no longer on my mind. Instead, I was focused on the amazing woman across the street who deserved so much more respect than she was getting. And how I was going to do whatever it took to make her mine.