The Northwoods Chronicles Read Free

Pearce looked around, but couldn’t see
anyone.
    Doc tallied the bill and Pearce pulled out his
wallet. As he did, the front door opened again, and four bearded
men wearing baseball caps came in, laughing with the camaraderie
Pearce hoped to be sharing with them soon. Doc greeted each, then
made change for Pearce.
    He wanted to stay to meet the men, his new
neighbors. He wanted to talk and joke, but he didn’t know the
lingo, didn’t know the area, and until he knew what questions to
ask, he felt like too much of an outsider.
    He made an appointment to meet up with Sadie
Katherine, and then left, brand-new gear in hand, as the other guys
took his place at the counter, leaning with elbows, hips and
familiarity, and envy gripped Pearce’s heart.
    Maybe it was time he insisted on his own church,
settled down in one community and made it home. This was too hard
every couple of years, moving to a whole new culture. Hard on him,
hard on Regina.
    He threw his purchases into the trunk then,
unwilling to leave town with the taste of envy in his mouth,
slammed the trunk and eyed the small dress shop across the street.
He could go over and introduce himself as the new pastor, something
he hadn’t been able to do at the tackle shop for some reason,
though Doc gave no indication that he was anything but a fine
Christian man.
    White Pines Junction was as pretty a little town
as he’d ever seen, Pearce thought as he looked up and down the
small street. Tidy little storefronts, just like he imagined a
little Bavarian ski resort would look like. Or something. He didn’t
really know. It had a little grocery, the tackle shop, a
real-estate office and a couple of other shops. The diner, at the
end of the block, seemed to anchor the place. Across the street was
the little dress shop, the boat dealer, a gas station, the post
office, and a couple of little shops, with the lake at the other
end of it. All around were tidy little houses with tidy little
yards. He and Regina had been given a nice little parsonage on the
grounds of the church, and it all looked like something out of a
fairy tale.
    He started across the street when he heard the
tinkle of the tackle shop bell, but didn’t turn around. He didn’t
want to see those four men pile into one truck together, laughter
on their tongues, tackle shop bags in their hands.
    A lovely young woman greeted him in the dress
shop, introducing herself, and when Pearce told her who he was, her
smile slipped a fraction and her hand slid from his handshake. She
looked out to the front window and said, “Is that your wife?”
    “No,” Pearce started to say, because he left
Regina at home with her monthly migraine, but sure enough, she was
standing by the car, hands on hips, looking at the dress shop. “Why
yes, I see that it is,” he said. “Has she been in to meet you?”
    “Sort of,” the young woman said.
    “Well, I’ll be taking over the Sunday services
beginning this Sunday at ten o’clock, and I would be delighted to
see you and your family in church.”
    “No family,” the girl said, peering out the
window. “She’s gone now.”
    Pearce looked outside and could see no evidence
of his wife. Rats, he thought to himself, it’s starting again.
    “Sometimes,” he said, “people get attached to a
pastor and have a difficult time with his replacement, but I hope
you’ll give me a chance.”
    “Might as well,” the girl said.
    They shook hands again, Pearce reluctant to ask
her name again. Was it Kimberly? He should have remembered it when
she told him the first time.
    He left the dress shop feeling like he did a
pretty poor job of salesmanship, and was resentful that selling had
to be part of his job.
    Maybe White Pines Junction had a hospital. He
could go there and meet a few people who would then feel obligated
to come on Sunday. He wanted to give a good sermon, and he was
always better in front of a full house.
    But there was plenty of time for that. This was
only Tuesday. Now