July Thunder Read Online Free

command, and something about him struck her as familiar.
    â€œHi,” she said brightly. “I’m Mary McKinney, your neighbor across the street.”
    He smiled. “Reverend Elijah Canfield,” he said in a deep voice that hinted at thunder. “I’m the new pastor at The Little Church in the Woods.”
    â€œOh, it’s a lovely little church,” Mary said warmly.
    â€œYou’ll join us sometime for worship?”
    â€œI’ll think about it,” Mary replied, though she had no intention of that. She belonged to another church with which she was quite content, thank you very much. “Canfield? I know a deputy named SamCanfield.” It was a casual remark, something to mention to a stranger when she didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t expect the answer she got.
    â€œI know him,” said Reverend Canfield.
    â€œAre you related?” The thought surprised her. While she didn’t know Sam all that well, she suddenly realized that she’d been under the impression he didn’t have any family at all.
    â€œI know him,” Elijah repeated.
    â€œOh.” Mary felt uncomfortable suddenly, as if she’d trod somewhere she shouldn’t have. A strange feeling for a first, casual encounter with a stranger. “Well, I hope you enjoy your time in Whisper Creek, Reverend. It’s a lovely, friendly little town. And if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m always good for a cup of sugar.”
    He laughed, and the uneasiness was dispelled as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud.
    â€œI’ll remember that, Mary McKinney. Is that missus?”
    â€œMs.”
    â€œMiss McKinney,” he said with a little bow.
    Mary, who was quite opposed to “miss” because she didn’t feel her marital status was anybody’s business but her own, realized she had just run into an old-time preacher who thought women had their proper place. However, out of common courtesy she said nothing. Some old dogs couldn’t learn new tricks, anyway.
    â€œSo, what do you do, Miss McKinney?”
    Was she imagining it, or did he emphasize the “miss”? Down, girl, she told herself. It was not time to get on her feminist soapbox. “I’m a teacher at the high school,” she answered. “Creative writing and literature.”
    At that moment two of the helpers came out of the house, and with a suddenly sinking heart, Mary recognized them. They were parents who had last year attempted to get some of the books on her reading list banned.
    â€œLiterature,” Elijah Canfield said. “That wouldn’t be The Catcher in the Rye and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, would it?”
    It would be. It also included The Return of the Native, Pride and Prejudice, Captain Blood (for the boys) and a lot of other classics, like Catch-22 and The Old Man and the Sea. She’d had to go to the mat over some of them last year before the school board, and she was prepared to do it again.
    But now she found herself looking into the eyes of a new enemy, one who could be considerably more powerful than the handful of parents who had complained last year.
    She felt her dander rising but tried to remain civil. “Among other books,” she said pleasantly. “I always feel it’s best to introduce young people to a wide variety of the greatest works of literature. It tends to be instructive in ways that help them better avoid some of the errors and temptations of life, not to mention exposing them to powerful writing.”
    So take that, she thought almost childishly.
    â€œThe Bible is powerful writing.”
    â€œIndeed,” she agreed with a smile. “Very powerful. But it’s wisest to leave that in the hands of ministers, don’t you think? I’m sure you’d be very unhappy with me if I pointed out the apocryphal nature of some of the Biblical stories.”
    And