grant the woman that much. "She certainly has found a way to ingratiate herself with the women of this church in short order." Harriett, however, wasn't as easily taken in by a smooth tongue and slick manners. The woman was trouble with a capital T. Baking cookies for the women's bazaar and contributing the recipe for winter fruit dip. Why, it was pure indulgence, that's what it was. Pure indulgence.
"Don't you agree?" Pastor's gaze narrowed as he looked at her. "Mrs. Merkle is a woman of unique faith."
"Faith, perhaps, but I see very little religion in her."
"How do you mean?" the young minister pressed. Something in his attitude changed; she noticed it in his eyes and believed he was keen to hear her response.
"Well, it's difficult to explain...with words. It's as if the woman isn't quite like the rest of us, if you catch my drift."
"You mean she isn't of this world?"
"Something like that," Harriett agreed. "When she looks at me I'm left with the feeling that..." She didn't dare voice the truth, not with the opposite sex. The fact was, she'd been left feeling exposed, as if Emily Merkle had the power to know things she had no business knowing.
Once several years ago, shortly after her husband had passed on, Harriett had purchased a pair of silk underpants. She attributed the minor decline in common sense to her overwhelming loss and grief. She'd worn them only once and had hidden them in the back of her drawer ever since. For reasons she couldn't explain, Harriett felt Emily Merkle knew about those black silk panties.
"The feeling that...," he prompted.
"Frankly, Pastor, I'm not here to talk about the Websters' housekeeper. It's Ruth Darling who concerns me."
"Ruth Darling?" He sounded surprised. "Ruth's the delicate matter you wish to discuss?"
Harriett sat up on the chair, stiffening her spine. She was so close to the edge of the cushion that she was in danger of falling butt first onto the floor.
She didn't expect this to be a comfortable conversation, but she considered it her Christian duty. If she could save one lost lamb from stumbling into the den of wolves and being trapped in iniquity, then she'd completed her task.
"What I say must stay in this office," she warned, glancing over her shoulder to be certain the door was completely closed. She didn't know Joanne Lawton well, but she wouldn't put it past the church secretary to listen in on conversations that were meant to be private.
"But of course."
Once she'd been granted the assurances she needed, Harriett felt free to continue. "I fear for the spiritual well-being of my dear, dear friend." Unable to meet his gaze, she stared at her clenched hands. "I've discovered that..." She closed her eyes, hardly able to voice it. "That my friend has" - she paused for effect - "lusted after another man."
"Ruth Darling?" Pastor Lovelace leaped to his feet, then quickly sat back down. "I'm sure you're mistaken," he continued in a less boisterous manner.
Harriett had feared it would come to something like this. She reached for her purse and withdrew an envelope. "I've kept a list of my observances," she said, wanting it to sound as if the task had been repugnant to her. With a show of reluctance, she handed him the envelope. "You'll discover that the first occurrence happened several months ago. In September...September seventh, to be exact, and right here in this very church."
Pastor Lovelace lowered the envelope to his desk without opening it. Harriett had hoped that he'd read the mounting data for himself and save her the necessity of having to spell out what could only be the truth. The evidence was overwhelming, the conclusion simple.
"I'm afraid it's Lyle Fawcett," she said. "He's the man who's tempted her to this fall from grace."
"This has to do with Ruth Darling and Lyle Fawcett?" Pastor Lovelace sounded incredulous.
"Why, yes." His shock was what she'd expected. Apparently she was the only one diligent enough to recognize what was happening. To his credit, Lyle had been an innocent bystander, unaware of the course to sin his presence had wrought.
"It pains me to inform you that Ruth has eyed Lyle like a bird of prey every Sunday for weeks. It's most disconcerting to find a woman married to a man as good and kind as Fred Darling ogling another man."
"And you've discussed your concerns with Ruth yourself?"
Harriett's back went ramrod straight. Discuss the situation with Ruth herself? She'd never heard anything so ridiculous in her life.