A Vote of Confidence Read Free

woman is widowed, isn’t it better that she have an education and a profession that will
     allow her to support herself and her children rather than to be dependent upon the generosity of relatives or her church?”
    “Well, of course. But — ”
    “But not in a man’s profession?” She offered a smile, taking the bite out of her question.
    “You have me there, Miss Arlington.” He chuckled. “There is certainly nothing inferior about
your
mind.”
    “Thank you.” She held out the carefully penned pages.
    Nathan took them. As he glanced down at some other papers on his desk, he muttered, “Wish I could say the same for our one
     and only candidate for mayor. Tattersall.” He growled in disgust. “I can’t figure why no one else has stepped forward to run
     against him. The election will be here before we know it.”
    Cleo’s words echoed in Gwen’s thoughts :
“Why don’t you run for office
,
Gwennie?”
She ignored the shiver of excitement that raced up her spine and posed her sister’s question to the newspaperman. “Why don’t
     you run for office, Mr. Patterson?”
    “Politics wouldn’t suit me. I’m better reporting the news than making it.”
    “Not a reason in the world you couldn’t do it
,
”
Cleo’s voice whispered in her head.
    Gwen glanced at the pages in the editor’s hands. She’d written the article to encourage women to step forward, to better themselves, to make a difference in the society in which they lived.
     Was it possible God had been speaking to her even as she wrote those words to other women?
    Softly, she said, “My sister thinks
I
should run.”
    Nathan stared at her.
    “It’s a silly notion, of course.” Her heart hammered and her pulse raced. “I told Cleo it was.”
    Wordlessly, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin with his right hand. “Silly?” A long pause, then, “I’m not so sure
     it is.”
    “You’re not?” Her throat felt parched.
    “Isn’t a woman mayor a little like a woman judge?” He shot up from his chair, knuckles resting on the top of the desk. “Do
     it, Miss Arlington. Run for mayor. The newspaper will put its support behind your candidacy.”
    “But Mr. Patterson, I’ve never held public office before. Why would you support me?”
    “My gut tells me you would do what needs to be done. You’re articulate and well educated. You obviously aren’t afraid to speak
     out when you see a problem the community needs to address. You’ve done so often enough in your columns.”
    She wished she hadn’t spoken. She wished she’d kept her thoughts to herself.
    “Do it, Miss Arlington. The town will be grateful. And I must admit it would give me plenty of interesting things to write
     about in the coming weeks. Never been a woman mayor that I know of.” He jotted a note on a slip of paper. “I’ll have to look
     that up. Wouldn’t it be something if we were the first?”
    “I haven’t said I’ll do it yet.”
    “Think about what it’ll be like here if Tattersall’s elected.”
    Gwen took a step back from his desk. “I… I’ll want to pray about it and… and talk to my father.”
    “Of course. Of course. You do that. But I’m telling you, Miss Arlington, you should do this.”

    Fortunately, Christopher Vance’s worst fears weren’t realized. The damage appeared less serious than first perceived. By late
     afternoon, the crew of men had stabilized the dam on Crow’s Creek. More permanent repairs would be undertaken in the morning.
    Later that evening, after the camp cook had served dinner and the men were settling in for the night, Morgan walked up the
     draw at the north end of the compound and sat on a log where he was afforded a view of the resort site. Behind him and across
     from him, ponderosa and lodgepole pines blanketed the steep mountainsides. Wondrous. Awesome. God’s handiwork revealed for
     all to see. Morgan had traveled many places around the world, seen many beautiful things, but few had come