“You were never afraid of anything.”
“Yes, I was. Lots of times.” Clay looked at the fire and murmured, “I want to serve God, but I really don’t know how. And I want us to marry. It’s going to be a bit of a problem, though.”
“Why?”
“Well, I never believed in a man working for his wife, and that’s what I’ll be doing.”
“No, you won’t.” Jenny reached up and put her fingers under Clay’s chin, gently turning his face toward her own. “I had a meeting with the commissioner yesterday. I told him I wanted to resign.”
“Yes. And it’s what I want, Clay. I never wanted to be sheriff anyway. Maybe God put me in office for a while, but now I think it’s time for me to step down.”
“But what about the job?”
Jenny leaned forward and kissed him soundly. “We’re going to have a great new sheriff.”
“You mean Hooey?”
Clay shook his head. “I’ll never be able to keep up with what’s going on inside that head of yours, Jennifer Winslow. But that’s good. I’d hate to be married to a woman with no surprises—and with you I don’t have to worry.”
He pulled her close, and her lips were soft and yielding under his own. The fire snapped and popped, and the grandfather clock ticked solemnly.
Stonewall, lying by the fire, lifted his head and watched the couple curiously, then yawned and went back to sleep.
GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals, and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children, and he and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.