Searching for Anna By Jenifer Carll-Tong
Chapter 12 - It Is Well
As they scrubbed the floors and wiped down the pews of her new church, Reverend Albright regaled Phoebe with stories of his evening at the constabulary.
"We talked for hours," he said, tinkering with the insides of the church's piano.
"Hours? What could you possibly talk about with complete strangers for that long?"
"Oh, you know me. I can talk with anyone. Besides, they're all war heroes. Every single one of 'em," he said. "This town's lucky to have such fine young men protecting it. What'd you do with your evening?"
Phoebe knelt next to the bucket of soapy water and told her father all about her experiences from the night before.
"Sounds like coyotes," her father mused. "They mostly hunt small animals and will likely stay clear of humans, so I wouldn't worry too much about 'em. Still, I'd stay within my fence when it's real late."
Phoebe agreed. She had a hard enough time taming the angry herd of women she encountered at the train station yesterday. She didn't think she'd be any more successful with actual wild animals.
"And, like I said, there are plenty of fine men here protecting this town. Plus, many of them are single," he added with a wink.
"What's that?" she shouted over the increased speed of the brush she was scraping across the old floorboards. "I can't hear you."
"Don't worry, darlin'. I let them know there's already someone out to win your heart."
She threw down the brush and popped her head above the pew. "Daddy! You didn't!"
"I did! Would you rather have a town full of single officers vying for your attentions?"
"Of course not, but to insinuate that Will was my beau —"
"Now, what makes you think I was talking about Will?"
She scowled at her father even as she felt heat leap into her cheeks, but her attempt at a scolding did nothing but extract a howl of laughter from the elder preacher.
"C'mon, girl, and get over here and try this thing out. I think I got all the strings righted."
Glad for the change in subject, she took a seat on the bench. "It looks like it's never been played."
"That's what worries me. Nothing worse on a piano than neglect."
Phoebe opened the fallboard and found that the keys in fact did look untouched. Was there no one in Iron Falls who played? Would she be expected to play? How would that work, her at the piano for the hymns, then scrambling to the pulpit for the sermon? Why, it'd look more like a variety show than a worship service!
Phoebe played from memory one of her favorites – It is Well with My Soul. As she played, her father listened intently.
"It isn't too bad, but still a little off. Play middle C."
Phoebe complied, and her father adjusted something else behind the upright.
"I never knew you could tune a piano."
"Well, as a pastor you have to learn to do all kinds of things. But you'll learn soon enough that they don't teach you everything you need to know in Bible College. Play the whole scale."
He continued working until he was satisfied each note was on key. When he finished, he had her play again and Phoebe was amazed at the difference.
"I know it was close before, but now it's perfect!" she said excitedly. She began the song again, her excitement coursing through the music as she added additional runs and fills. She became completely lost, as if the music were coming from somewhere deep within her. It was, indeed, well with her soul, whatever her lot - even if that lot was a small, poorly furnished cabin in the upper peninsula, playing piano and preaching to a tiny congregation of dubious miners' wives - her soul was God's, and God's alone.
It wasn't until she was finished that she noticed Mrs. Speer standing next to the piano.
"Oh my!" she said, shocked. "I didn't see you come in. How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to realize that we have a very talented pastor!" she said warmly. She handed a basket to Reverend Albright. "When Tom came home, he said the doors to the church were open and it looked like you two were hard at work. I brought you some fried chicken, baked beans, and corn bread. It isn't much, but it will fill your stomachs." She looked around the sanctuary. "I wish I would have known you were doing this today. My boys are good workers. I would have sent them over."
"Well, I'm leaving in the mornin'," Reverend Albright said. "Maybe they could help on the outside of the church? It could use some work before Sunday."
"Of course. I'll send 'em over tomorrow and you tell 'em what to do, alright Pastor Albright?"
Phoebe was thrilled. "Tomorrow will be fine, as long as it isn't an inconvenience to you?"
"It won't be. Alright, I'll leave you to your evening," Mrs. Speer said. She shook hands with Reverend Albright, then turned back to Phoebe. "Pastor, would you ever consider giving lessons to my little ones? I don't have much money, but I could pay you in eggs and milk and whatever we have around the farm that week."
Phoebe agreed happily. Whether it was the thought of fresh eggs and milk every week or the lingering scent of the fried chicken in the basket she held that made the thought of teaching those sweet children so enticing she wasn't certain, but the growl of her stomach told her she wouldn't regret it.
"Well," her father began after Mrs. Speer left. He wiped his hands on his handkerchief and chuckled. "Did you notice she called you pastor?"
Phoebe smiled. "I did. What a difference a day can make."
He nodded and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "His mercies are new every morning." He stuffed his handkerchief back in his trouser pocket. "But I won't reach morning if I starve to death, so let's eat!"
