“Afternoon, everyone,” he said as if he’d known us all his life. “I’m Spencer. Just moved in to take over for Pastor Murphy. Couldn’t help noticing a few of the businesses in town had closed signs on them, and I heard from Grant at the bank that you were all here. I thought it would be a good idea to meet such kindhearted people who would close their shops for a person in need.”
The words landed heavily in my gut. Pastor Murphy, the man who’d nodded and smiled all while letting me believe a signature made me a husband. And they expected me to trust another man of the cloth?
Still, I stood, polite. “Hudson Granger.” I shook the man’s hand. “Appreciate you stopping by.” I gave a quick rundown of everyone’s names, though he probably forgot them immediately.
“Thought I’d lend a hand, but looks like I’m too late,” he said.
Of course. How convenient.
“Roof’s done.” Lawson tipped his hat. “But you’re not too late to buy the first round of beers.”
The men laughed at Lawson poking fun at the pastor.
“Be careful you don’t offend the new pastor, Law,” Clayton said. “We only just got old Pastor Murphy to quitpreaching hellfire outside Dusty’s. Not even my mama has prayed for my soul as much as that man has.”
That got a round of chuckles.
“Tell us straight, Reverend,” Cole said with a grin. “Is it a sin to knock back a cold one after sweating our asses off all day?”
I braced for the kind of tight smile and moral lecture Murphy would’ve given.
“I’m not here to judge. Just to live by example.” The new pastor didn’t look offended at all. “Even Jesus drank wine with the sinners.”
“You calling us sinners?” Sheriff Donald asked.
“Aren’t we all?” This pastor was slick with his answers. He didn’t miss a beat. He was either a well-rehearsed puppet of the Church or was sincere. It was too soon to tell.
The way the men lit up at his answer, a new bet was about to hit the Bristlecone gossip mill before sundown.
“So are you buying us that round, Pastor, or am I gonna have to grovel to the missus to spare me some change?” Hank said.
“First round’s on me,” the pastor said.
“Well, that’s awfully generous of you, Pastor Spencer.” Gray stuck a hand out to shake the pastor’s with respect. “We’ll take you up on that offer.”
“Good. But it’s just Spencer. I’ve never been one for formalities.” Spencer looked around the group. “Who’s coming along?”
A chorus of “hell yeahs” rose, and tools clattered as men gathered their things. Cameron, Dolly Mae, and I were the only ones who made no attempt to follow them.
“I gotta stay back and help Dolly Mae finish cleaning up,” I said. It would be disappointing to go to the bar only to wind up with water instead.
“Cameron?” Spencer asked.
The florist didn’t look up, didn’t pause from picking up his bottles and stuffing them into a bag. “I don’t drink.” His tone wasn’t sharp, but it was final.
Something in the air pulled taut. Spencer hesitated a second too long, then gave a small nod. “Suit yourself. I’ll see you later.”
See him later? What was that all about? Cameron picked up the last of the bottles and trudged off in the opposite direction from Dusty’s.
“Thanks for coming, Cameron.”
He didn’t respond, just kept his head down and continued walking.
The crowd thinned as men piled into trucks, Dolly Mae clucking after them to not run the pastor off in one day. When we were alone, she turned to me. “Funny how the world works, isn’t it?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Rumor has it Cameron’s father tried to get Spencer run out of the Church when he came out.”
