Love Finds You in Camelot, Tennessee Read Online Free Page B

time and ended with their eventual marriage by candlelight.
    “Yes, that’s a great story,” Amy said. “Very entertaining. My point is, if we’re strategic, we can compete with all those great shows over in Pigeon Forge. We just have to capitalize on our name. Oh, and we’ll need to build a theater of some sort. I suggest we put it behind the Civic Center, which we can use for our rehearsals. And I’m not talking about building anything elaborate. Maybe an amphitheater type of setup, carved into the terrain with the Civic Center directly behind it. The area is on a hill, so it will work perfectly. And the view is out of this world.” She paused to get a feel for the crowd. No one responded. “I know I’m asking for a lot here, but if we build it, they will come.”
    “Field of Dreams,” Pastor Crane interjected as he reached for another cookie. “James Earl Jones gave the performance of a lifetime, don’t you think?”
    “I love his speaking voice,” Eula Mae threw in.
    “And wasn’t Kevin Costner the cat’s meow?” Gwen sighed. “I’ve always thought he was sinfully handsome in that role.”
    You’ve always thought every man was handsome. Amy forced a smile. “I’m just saying that we’ll build a theater where we can do shows all weekend long. A show on Friday night, two shows on Saturday, and a Sunday matinee after church.”
    “I cain’t work on Sun–deez,” Grady drawled. “Against my ree–ligion.”
    Pastor Crane snorted. “You don’t even go to church, Grady. What’s the difference?”
    “Church is against my ree–ligion too. Too much bickerin’ goes on in them-there churches.”
    “Hey, speaking of religion, did you see that new cable channel with the great gospel sing-alongs?” Eula Mae asked. “I just love those old songs. They take me back to my childhood days.” She began to hum “When the Roll Is Called up Yonder.”
    “What about that old hymn we sang last Sunday?” Pastor Crane added. “’Trust and Obey.’ I thought I did a pretty good job of working it into my sermon.”
    Annabelle sighed. “I don’t mind saying, your message on temptation really convicted me that I need to stick to my diet.”
    “Speaking of temptation, I’m reminded of a story from the war, during ’69,” Sarge said. “It was me and my guys, over in Vietnam.” Off he went, into another lengthy story.
    Amy did her best not to sigh as the minutes ticked by on the clock. As always, she’d lost control of the meeting. Nothing new there, only this time she’d had an agenda. A real one. She cleared her throat, hoping Sarge would take the hint. He did not. His story continued until Eula Mae—God bless her—steered the ship back on course.
    “I do like the idea of the play,” the elderly woman said, as she circled the room to refill coffee cups. “And I see the potential for making money, if it’s handled right.”
    “I just have one question,” Gwen said. “Who’s gonna direct this shindig?”
    Amy’s gaze shifted to Woody Donaldson. She cleared her throat. At this point, the others looked his way as well.
    Woody seemed perplexed by the attention. “Eh?”
    “Turn up your hearing aid, Woody,” Eula Mae raised her voice. “They want you to direct this play.”
    “Correct display?” He looked confused. “Don’t have a clue what that means.”
    “No.” Amy exaggerated her next words. “Direct. The. Play. We want you to direct the play.” She sat next to him. “You’re really the only one with any know-how, Woody.”
    “Well, shoot,” he drawled. “I was countin’ on playin’ Merlin.”
    Steve drew near and slapped him on the back. “Make you a deal. If you agree to direct, you can play any role you like.”
    “Really?” Woody’s eyes lit up. “Well, I’ll pray about that. Might just take you up on it.”
    “I’m no actress,” Amy added, growing more excited by the minute, “but I’d love to help you direct.”
    “If you think you could work with her,