she passed the living room, the lone stuffed bag seemed to beg to be emptied. She changed direction and dropped to her knees next to the bag. The ties already dangled, loose, so she tugged the opening wide and emptied the entire contents. All men’s trousers and blue jeans. What a wonderful gift.
She used any donated fabric that could hold together, but the heavier fabrics made the sturdiest and, therefore, the most desirable rugs. She sorted the pants into stacks by color, her hands moving so deftly and instinctively she didn’t even have to think about where to place them. When she finished, she picked up the crumpled bag, folded it, and put it with the others near her front door. She’d take them to work. They were still usable. Waste not, want not, Grossmammi always said.
She returned to the stacks and picked up the pile of gray-toned items. As she laid them on the stack Lori had sorted, she felt something hard. Often she found loose change or other small items, from petrified wads of chewing gum to packages of dental floss, in the pockets of donated pants. Making sure the pockets were empty before she applied her scissors was part of her routine. She pulled the pair of trousers from the pile and let them unfold. Then she reached into the pocket. Her fingers encountered something round, but it didn’t feel like a coin.
Frowning, she pulled the item free. She held it to the light and gasped. She dropped the pants, and they puddled on the floor at her feet. She gaped at a single diamond attached by four prongs to a wide band. She pinched it between her fingers and tilted it, watching the light bounce from the stone’s facets. Was it real? One of the older women from work, Van, wore a cubic zirconia solitaire necklace to church every Sunday. The man-made stone looked so real that if Van hadn’t confessed it was an imitation, Kenzie would never have known.
Maybe this ring also wasn’t as valuable as it appeared. She angled the band and looked at its underside. Another gasp left her throat. A tiny stamp reading 14K indicated this wasn’t a cheap gold-plated band. An engraving in a flowing script hinted at a story Kenzie longed to uncover.
She read the words aloud. “ ‘From this moment into eternity.’ ” She hadn’t intended to whisper, but her voice emerged low and husky, almost with reverence. She stared at the ring until the words wavered. She blinked several times, then stared at it again. She was holding someone’s wedding ring. It was too small and delicate to be a man’s ring. Yet it had come from the pocket of a man’s pair of trousers.
Her pulse pounded so loud in her ears that it muffled the song playing on the radio. If this was a real gold-and-diamond ring—and it certainly seemed to be—she needed to return it to its owner. Ruby had said her sister had been collecting clothing items for months. Would she remember who’d donated this particular pair of pants? She’d talk to Ruby on Sunday after church. In the meantime, she’d better find a safe place to keep the ring.
Bradleyville
Jase
Jase checked his reflection in the full-length mirror attached to the bathroom door. He was going to a party, not a church service, so he didn’t need to dress up, but he didn’t want to look slovenly. After all, first impressions were important. His tan khakis and soft chambray shirt were comfortable but not over-the-top dressy. They’d do. He wasn’t sure about his leather flip-flops, though. In San Antonio they’d be fine for this time of year, but in Kansas? His loafers or some sneakers might be better.
He headed for his closet, finger-combing his hair away from his forehead as he went. Despite the application of mousse, the strands wanted to droop. Maybe he should have gotten a haircut in Wichita yesterday. He snagged his tan canvas sneakers, sat on the end of his bed, and swapped the shoes. And what about his beard? Should he go ahead and shave it all the way off? He liked his short whiskers because they hid the acne scars along his jawline. Rachel had approved of what she called his “studly stubble,” but what would the mothers of the teenagers in his youth group think?
His hands stilled in the middle of switching shoes. His youth group. As of today, he was responsible for a group of teenagers. Of mentoring them,