The Parson's Waiting

Her spirits were almost as gloomy as the weather.
Worse than her own building depression, Willow Creek was rising, testing the limits of the soggy banks. Word from upstream was even more worrisome, with weather forecasters predicting another two or three days of pounding, soaking deluges.
Anna Louise walked through the shadowy aisles of the church, shifting the pitiful assortment of pots and pans to collect water from the worst of the leaks. She’d already spread plastic tarps over most of the pews, hoping to save the wood. The carved altar was shrouded in plastic, as well.
Anna Louise sighed at the mess. Another six months and they would have had the new roof. As it was, she’d be conducting Sunday services in an atmosphere as damp and uncomfortable as an open-air pavilion in the midst of a hurricane.
When she’d done what she could, she walked to the vestibule and looked out the front door. The creek appeared to be creeping up inch by inch even as she watched. Fortunately, most of the houses in Kiley were on higher land and weren’t threatened by a flood. Only her church, sitting barely a hundred yards from the creek, where the land leveled off, stood directly in the path of the rising water.
She had two choices and it was time to make one of them. She could call on God to stop the rain or call on her parishioners to divert the flooding waters. Since she never liked to push too hard in asking God to alter His plans, she headed for the phone in her office to call on her human resources. But just in case He wasn’t entirely set in His ways this time, she did murmur a fervent request toward Heaven while she was at it.
An hour later the rain hadn’t let up, but there was a scene of organized chaos on the sloping front lawn of the church. More than a dozen men and women were filling bags with sand to shore up the creek banks. Luke Hall and his wife had closed down the store and come at once, bringing Jeremy and their other sons. Maribeth had followed Jeremy. Tucker Patterson, the Monroes, the Hensons and even old Millicent Rawlings were doing what they could.
But as hard as everyone was working, Anna Louise recognized that their energy and know-how were pitifully inadequate. The water was already up to Anna Louise’s ankles and she was a good three yards from what had been the creek bank until just a little while ago.
“You’ll never save the church at this rate,” Richard observed, voicing Anna Louise’s own fears.
She hadn’t seen him arrive, but she should have known word of the struggle to save the church would reach Maisey. And whatever Richard’s personal beliefs were these days, he respected Maisey’s. Anna Louise should have known he would come to help. She didn’t want to consider too closely why she hadn’t called and directly asked for his help herself. Maybe it had something to do with the longing she’d felt when she’d left Willow Creek after the picnic a few days earlier. She hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that she was more attracted to Richard Walton than she had any business being.
At the moment, however, she found his know-it-all attitude irritating. She wiped a strand of wet hair from her eyes and scowled up at him.
“You could pitch in and help,” she suggested pointedly.
“It’s a losing battle, at least the way you’re going about it.”
Anna Louise lost patience. “Do you have a better idea? If not, get out of my way and let me get back to work.” She shoved past him and sloshed through the rising water.
He stayed where he was and called after her, “Seems to me you’d be better off diverting the stream’s path upstream, just below Maisey’s where the land first begins to level off.”
Anna Louise paused to listen.
“There are open fields to the south. If we send the water that way, then the church would be out of harm’s way. Better yet, when the water’s receded, that land should be more fertile than ever.”
Anna Louise nodded agreeably. “Good idea. Too bad it won’t work.”
Hands on his hips, he glowered at her. “I wasn’t aware you had experience with the Army Corps of Engineers,” Richard retorted.
He was obviously miffed that she’d dismissed his idea so readily. She didn’t have time to indulge his ego. “True,” she shot right back. “My experience is with Orville Patterson. It’s his land and he won’t allow what you’re suggesting, not if I ask anyway.”
An expression of genuine bewilderment crept over his face. “Why in the world not?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
“Surely you’re not suggesting that Orville would take out his feud with you on the church itself. He’s not that small-minded.”
“I thought you’d pinned that label on the whole town. Is Orville an exception just because he was once your childhood buddy? I can’t say I’ve seen the two of you together even once since you’ve been back.”
“You’re right. We haven’t even spoken. But this has nothing to do with me. Orville’s a pastor himself, for goodness’ sake. How could he justify letting the church be destroyed or even just damaged by flood waters if it was in his power to prevent it?”
“Let me share a few hard truths about your old friend Orville,” Anna Louise retorted. “He doesn’t just dislike me. He doesn’t just quietly disapprove of my career. He feels he has a moral obligation to show me the error of my ways. He’ll view this flood and any destruction it causes as a sign from God that he’s right. He won’t allow anyone to interfere, not even his own father, or you can be sure Tucker would have offered to talk to him.”
She gestured toward the small crew she’d been able to rally. “Take a look around. I called twice this many people, but these are the only ones who showed up. Orville got to the others. Naturally that’s