High Plains Hearts Read Free Page B

stairs to the kitchen.
    “Who comes to this dinner, anyway?” he asked as Tess tossed him a large white apron.
    “Well, as Reverend Barnes already said, some people come because this is the only way they’ll get a decent meal today. Others come because of the companionship that’s offered.” Her eyes met his. “I come because it reminds me that one of the things I have to be thankful for is that I am blessed with food and friendship.”
    His gaze didn’t waver. “But shouldn’t it be more than that? Those in need—surely their purpose isn’t to remind us of our blessings.”
    His words took Tess by surprise. She’d never thought about it that way. Certainly he had a point. She hadn’t examined this closely enough.
    “Can you explain?” she asked.
    “Not really,” he answered, and she appreciated the honesty in his voice. “But it does seem rather egocentric to think the role of the hungry is to make us aware of how good it feels not to be hungry.”
    “You’ve posed a good question, son.” Reverend Barnes’s deep voice filled the kitchen as he joined them. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I might be able to help.”
    “Please do,” Jake said.
    “Maybe if you flip the picture over, it’ll make more sense. For the hungry what purpose does being fed serve? Rather than thinking of what this does for us, we should be asking what it does for those in need. We should focus on them. Being hungry is a wrong that must be righted. And we here today are simply agents of that change. In serving this food we serve at a greater table.”
    He smiled benevolently at Tess. “It should make us feel better, helping out today, but it shouldn’t make us complacent. For many people hunger is an ever-present enemy of happiness. We need to do what we can to feed the hungry. It’s what Jesus wants.”
    He handed Jake a folding chair and smiled. “Now that I’ve solved that problem, it’s back to work for me. I’ve got to come up with some inspirational words for tonight’s dinner.”
    “Wow,” Jake breathed as Reverend Barnes turned and raced back up the steps, like a man half his age. “It seems to me he’s already come up with some incredibly inspirational words.”
    “He is astonishing,” Tess agreed. “He has the ability to see right through to the center of things. Even if I hadn’t been a member of Nativity since I was born, I’d be here because of him.”
    Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Where do I start with these chairs?”
    A twinge of concern creased through the satisfaction of the day. He had changed the subject so quickly—but why? He didn’t seem to be trying to avoid the matter; yet he certainly didn’t seem inclined to pursue it.
    Her musings were interrupted by a stream of people carrying foil-wrapped turkeys and mysterious casserole dishes that smelled wonderful. The kitchen exploded with the joy of many hands cooking.
    Jake fell into the role of chief chair-placer quite easily. Tess found herself taking pleasure in the relaxed way he became part of the group and the openness with which her church friends accepted him.
    She found herself watching him and the way he interacted with the others. A small movement behind him caught her eye: Reverend Barnes moved toward his wife. For a slice of a moment the minister and his wife glanced at each other, and Tess could tell that volumes passed unspoken—in a muted language only they understood. Then Reverend Barnes sloped his head down and dropped a gentle kiss on his wife’s forehead.
    A surprising, new hunger washed over Tess. That same degree of closeness and understanding the minister and his wife had—she wanted it, suddenly wanted it, but with whom? Could it be that having Jake there today was bringing this to the forefront? A hole in her life had become a gaping, aching wound of lonely need.
    “He’s a keeper, I think.” The voice belonged to Ellen Smalley, the organist. The tiny woman had always reminded Tess of a wren, small, drab, and