Like Sheep Gone Astray Read Online Free

black-and-gold-striped ruffled blouse and black-and-white-checked pumps she wore. She smelled of Jean Nate and decorative soap.
    “Yes, dear, we've got to get together one day while you're still free,” Sister Porter continued. “Once you start having babies, it will be a different story,” she said with a wink.
    This time Terri could not hide her groan. She was sick of people asking her when she was going to “give that nice preacher” a baby.
    “Aw, honey, I don't mean to upset you. Children are a gift from the Lord, and in His time, they will come.” Sister Porter patted Terri's shoulder.
    There was an uncomfortable break in the conversation. Terri twiddled her thumbs for a few moments while Sister Porter, still smiling, sighed a couple of times.
    “Amen,” Terri exhaled, for lack of anything better to say. Mercifully, Anthony was finally coming to the car. His shoulders slumped as he kicked at the gravel.
    “Well, I'll be giving you a call soon, dear heart.” Sister Porter was leaving. “Have a blessed evening.”
    “You do the same, and give my regards to Minister Porter.”
    As soon as Sister Porter's back was turned, Terri dropped her smile. “Bake some cookies?” she muttered. “Who do I look like, Betty Crocker?”
    “Did you say something?” Anthony plopped into the driver's seat. He barely looked up at his wife.
    “Nothing. Let's go home.” Terri pressed a silver-painted fingernail on the power-window button. She collapsed back in her seat as the window whisked up with a thud.
    It was only mid-September, but a biting draft was already finding its way up Anthony's coat sleeves and pant legs as he sat quietly behind the steering wheel. He usually enjoyed the drive home from church, especially in the fall when he purposely took the back roads littered with red, gold, and yellow leaves falling from the unending rows of trees.
    But today the winding roads reminded him too much of every dizzying curve and zigzag his life seemed to be taking. The smell of burning leaves suffocated his nostrils as he turned back onto the beltway, joining the frenzy of motorists whizzing by familiar green-and-white traffic signs.
    “Oh look, they've almost finished that Stonymill light rail extension,” Terri said, pointing to a passing construction site. “I don't see why there was such a big fuss about building it.”
    Anthony swallowed hard but said nothing.
    “I heard Shaw Enterprises has an extensive marketing campaign going on for that new station,” Terri stated matter-of-factly. “Imagine all the profits they're raking in from that contract,” she added, glancing at her husband.
    Anthony was absorbed in his own thoughts, only half listening. Terri changed the subject. She began discussing her plans for the coming week, which included an important meeting with a client the next day. If the deal proved successful she would become a partner in the interior design firm for which she worked.
    Anthony caught a word here and there of her one-way conversation, but his thoughts began focusing on his morning message. He wondered if anyone had noticed his awkwardness. The sermon rolled through his mind like a videotape.
    He remembered feeling like he could not continue—
should not
continue. But he had. And in the midst of the crowd of greeters who praised him after service, he had not been able to give Pastor Green the letter.
    The letter!
Where was it? He panicked. Terri had grabbed his Bible and notes from him in her usual attempt to rush him out of the church. He could see his Bible now, peeking out of her large leather tote bag.
What if the letter falls out? Is it still hidden in the pages?
Anthony loosened his already limp necktie as he rounded a swerving exit. Terri could not see that letter under any circumstances. Not yet, anyway.
    “You're not even listening to me, are you?” Terri suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
    “Of course I am, baby. I'm sure the Hendricks Group will love the hanging-gardens