“Good evening, Mrs. Cooper,” he said.

“You might as well call me Laurel. We’re not very formal in this neighborhood.”

“I’m not formal at all,” he said, “So good evening, Laurel.”

A dimple at the corner of her mouth deepened. “Hello, Micah. You’re home early.”

“Yes. I’ve had a busy week, so I’m ready for some rest.”

“Come and sit down,” she invited. “This is a good place to relax. It’s been a hectic week for me, too, and I had to take time to let my body catch up with my soul. I’m preparing myself for worship tomorrow. Will you go to church with us in the morning?”

Settling down in the rocking chair beside her and stretching out his long legs, Micah said, “I haven’t been to church for so long, I wouldn’t know how to act.”

With a smile, Laurel said, “I doubt things have changed much since you used to go to church. We have a small sanctuary and a simple order of worship. You wouldn’t have a problem.”

“Fact is,” Micah said, “I’m not much interested in organized churches anymore. I’ve spent my adult life traveling, mostly in isolated places, where there aren’t any church buildings. I worship the God of Creation. I can have ‘church’ anywhere.”

Disturbed by his comments, Laurel said, “I’m sure that’s true, but don’t you miss the fellowship of other Christians? I need the strength and support I receive on Sunday to deal with any problems I might have during the week.”

Micah seemed to deliberate a few moments before he answered. “In my line of work, sometimes months pass without the opportunity to worship with a congregation. But when I see God’s handiwork in what He’s created—the skies, the trees, the animals—it’s easy for me to worship.”

Laurel wasn’t normally argumentative about the Scriptures, but she had the feeling that Micah was missing the most important principle. “That’s all well and good,” she said, “as long as you acknowledge the place of Jesus, God’s Son, in the creation of the world.”

Micah looked puzzled, and he said, “I remember something about that from my childhood when I went to Sunday School.”

Laurel didn’t press her opinion at that time. She, too, could see God in the universe around her. And she believed it was only a short distance from acknowledging God, Who created the world, and believing that His Son, Jesus, was the Savior of mankind. She doubted that Micah had made that connection.

“Then you will go to church with Debbie and me tomorrow?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m looking forward to meeting your daughter. With my long hours, I’ve missed my chances so far.”

Laurel said proudly, “I know I’m prejudiced, but she is a fine girl.”

Micah thought if Debbie was anything like her mother, she would be worth meeting.

Hesitantly, Laurel continued, “If we’re asking something that you don’t want to do, please say so. But Debbie wants to know if you’ll consider photographing her wedding on August twenty-fifth. Will you still be in Tennessee then?”

“I’m not sure, but if I agree to photograph the wedding, I’ll come back for it. But you should know that, although I’ve photographed a few weddings, I’m not at my best when photographing people. I prefer landscapes or anything in the natural environment.”

“Let me show you what we have in mind before you make a commitment.”

A gentle breeze blew from the river as they walked into the wide expanse of yard to the left of the house. The breeze ruffled Laurel’s red curls, and as she pointed out various things, Micah observed her, wondering that her red hair hadn’t a trace of gray. Modern hair colors could work wonders, but he doubted there was a rinse on her hair.

“We’ve chosen the southern lawn for the reception,” she explained. “We’re planning an early afternoon wedding, and the house will shade most of this area. The lawn is rather spacious, as you can see. We’re expecting about a hundred guests, but it’s an open wedding list, so it’s difficult to know how many we’ll have. We’ve rented tents and tables. If we have an overflow, some of them can sit under the shade trees. The ladies of our church are cooking the dinner.”

Micah sauntered around the area, looking at it with his professional eye, considering the shading and judging the position of the sun in three months.

“What time is the ceremony?” he asked.

“The music will start at one o’clock, and the processional a half hour later.”

“Then, I’d say this is an ideal spot. The light should be good for photographs.”

“The formal pictures will be taken inside. We want candid shots of activities here on the lawn. Dereck’s father plans to make a video, but we want some professional pictures for albums.”

“Are they having many attendants?”

“Just one each, plus a flower girl and a ring bearer— Dereck’s niece and nephew.” She halted, and looked out over the river. “Without any close male relatives, I’ll have to give her away.”