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chair and couch to cover their threadbare spots. Twenty years ago the room had probably been at the height of elegance.
    “We’ll make our own music then.” Sophie took the toddler into her arms and spun around the room, humming the grand hymn. She closed her eyes for a moment to imagine she stood inthe midst of a lovely, large church, where the congregants smiled, welcomed them, and asked no questions.
    Sitting down as dizziness overtook her, Sophie clasped Caira in a hug and placed her cheek on her baby’s soft hair. She shut her eyes again. Tears squeezed out, rolling down her cheeks. Once Sophie had been part of a church family where she’d been loved and accepted, but that was before the incident. Since then, church had been a place of shunning of her soul, which they assumed was leprous. Sophie longed to be able to go to church again but did God want her and her falsehoods, no matter how necessary they seemed?

    Ian’s hopes had thudded when the small group from the boardinghouse had entered the sanctuary, just before the service started. They sat near the back, but he didn’t see Sophie and her young charge among them.
    At the end of the service, he hoped to get Mrs. Fairgrave’s attention. He caught a glimpse of her waddling toward him as he stood by the door, with Mr. Graemer holding fast to her arm. Ian would have to be patient as he shook hands with everyone coming through.
    Ian had a different view from the entrance than from the pulpit, upon the raised platform. He could survey the congregation from the front, where some looked at him with expectant eyes as though he spoke the very words of God to them, though he were a fallible vehicle. Others looked distant, checking their pocket watches, enduring until they could move to the next task that day. And others, like dear Mr. Graemer, simply had trouble keeping their eyes open that long. There was such responsibility in getting to know his current flock! Leaving his last situation behind, heplanned to make the best of his fresh start. Even after a year, much still seemed new to him.
    As he waited to receive those who stopped to shake his hand and comment, Ian liked blending in on their level and seeing them face-to-face, individually. He wondered if, up close, they found him ordinary. After all, he really was a servant sent there by the Lord, to help, to teach, and to guide. If anything, he was beholden to God and to them.
    “Fine sermon this morning.” Mrs. Myles put out a dainty, gloved hand.
    “Why, thank you. And how is your husband feeling?”
    “Oh, gout has him down. I’m hoping he’s well enough to come with me next week.”
    “Tell Asa I continue praying for him and that he’s missed.” Ian held onto her hand tightly for a moment. “I hope he’ll be well enough for the next elder meeting.”
    “Thank you, I pray so, too.” She gave him a slight smile. “Come visit us soon.” She left looking burdened.
    Ian thought of the best time to visit them over the next week. He suspected that more than gout kept Asa Myles away, since the couple greatly mourned the accidental deaths of their daughter and son-in-law, when their carriage had overturned alongside a road coming back from the city. What a blessing that their granddaughter had been staying with her grandparents at the time! The little girl would receive no greater love and would be cared for with the best resources, which the Myles family could afford. Though the wounds of their grief remained deep, Elise’s presence was very healing for them.
    Several other families, couples, a few widows and widowers stopped to greet him. When expressions of joy replaced the usual exhaustion and grief in their faces, he was glad to have been a comfort. In the year since Ian had become their pastor, his lovehad grown for his small-town flock. He felt for each one in their hardships and trials.
    Only the Good Shepherd possessed limitless power to heal the brokenhearted, ready to care for their needs.