I did take off my heels, caked with mud from the cemetery, after I sat down.

“So tell me about your inheritance,” he suggested after an awkward pause.

I couldn’t recapture my initial excitement, but I could feel a grin turning up my lips as I told him about my friendship with Jane Engle and Bubba Sewell’s approach after the service was over.

“That’s amazing,” he murmured. “You’ve been blessed.”

“Yes, I have,” I agreed wholeheartedly.

“And you say you weren’t a particular friend of Jane’s?”

“No. We were friends, but at times a month would go by without our seeing each other. And not thinking anything about it, either.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve had enough time to plan anything to do with this unexpected legacy.”

“No.” And if he suggested some worthy cause, I would really resent it. I just wanted to be in proud ownership of a little house and a big (to me, anyway) fortune, at least for a while.

“I’m glad for you,” he said, and there was another awkward pause.

“Was there anything I could do to help you, did your note say?…” I trailed off. I tried to manage a look of intelligent expectancy.

“Well,” he said with an embarrassed laugh, “actually, I…this is so stupid, I’m acting like I was in high school again. Actually… I just wanted to ask you out. On a date.”

“A date,” I repeated blankly.

I saw instantly that my astonishment was hurting him.

“No, it’s not that that’s peculiar,” I said hastily. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Because I’m a minister.”

“Well-yes.”

He heaved a sigh and opened his mouth with a resigned expression.

“No, no!” I said, throwing my hands up. “Don’t make an ‘I’m only human’ speech, if you were going to! I was gauche, I admit it! Of course I’ll go out with you!”

I felt like I owed it to him now.