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Gil didn’t know when the competition between first-place bands would take place. The school year would start after Labor Day. If he was going to take the teaching position at the private school, he had to notify them by the end of August. “Those are a lot of ifs, Onkel Bernard.”
“Of this I am aware. But the boys play well. The fact that they’re so young will make them stand out, which might win the judges’ approval. Those ifs are not impossibilities. So tell me, what will you do if they win it all?”
Gil swallowed. “I…I’m not sure.”
Bernard’s expression relaxed. “Then you have something more to pray about.”
Gil gave a thoughtful nod. It seemed he needed to lay out another fleece.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ava
“It seems as if churchis no longer about worship. It’s all about Gil. Gil and his bands.”
Surely Ava hadn’t heard correctly. She turned her astounded look on Joseph. “What did you say?”
He folded his arms and scowled across the churchyard to where Gil stood in the middle of a small gathering, a notebook and pencil in hand. “I only said what a lot of people are thinking. How many Sundays have folks been delayed going home to their dinners because Gil needs to talk to them about the boys’ band? ‘Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.’ ” He quoted the fourth commandment, then flapped his hand in Gil’s direction. “Is that holy?”
Ava pursed her lips. She now regretted walking over to talk with Joseph. She’d felt bad for him when she spotted him standing all alone while groups milled under the mild summer sun. How many times had she been by herself in a crowd of people, wishing someone would come speak to her? So while Papa chatted with some other townsfolk, she’d engaged Joseph in idle chitchat. Which had now become not idle at all.
“Joseph, shame on you. Gil isn’t dishonoring the Sabbath day. He’s talking to folks when they’re together, being a good steward of his and others’ time.”
Joseph’s expression turned as sour as if he’d eaten something unpleasant. “I don’t understand how you, of all people, can defend him.”
After pondering her options, had she really considered marrying Joseph instead of running a café? Not that she was ready to do either. But at that moment, being a spinster café owner seemed the wiser choice. “What do you mean me ‘of all people’?” Her question snapped out.
“After what he did to you, courting you and then leaving you. The way he’s now courting the boys with all his music talk. He’ll draw them in, get them excited. Then he’ll leave them, and they’ll feel as betrayed and heartsick as you did.”
Ava’s mouth dropped open. Had he already forgotten last Wednesday, when he’d encouraged people to send their boys with Gil to the competition in McPherson? Now he was condemning him—for the very thing he’d been in favor of only a few days ago. “Joseph, you’re impossible.”
To her surprise, he laughed. “So you’ve told me before. Many times. Usually when Gil and I were bumping heads.” The humor in his blue eyes faded. “You took his side back then, too. But I thought by now, given how he chose a career in New York over a life with you, you’d be done with him. I guess I was wrong.” He searched her face, a hint of pleading now glimmering in his eyes. “Am I wrong?”
Ava wasn’t sure how to answer. Her heart tugged her toward Gil, old feelings always simmering beneath the surface. Yet nothing had changed. As Joseph said, Gil would leave again. Pining after him was a foolish waste of time. Even so, she couldn’t seem to stay away from him. Either Papa or circumstances drove them together. When would God answer Mama’s prayer and let her find freedom?
She blew out a little breath of aggravation. She would thinktwice before engaging Joseph in conversation again. “I think you’re looking for reasons to disdain Gil, the way you did all through our growing up. Why can’t you realize that my being friends with him isn’t an offense toward you?”
“Why can’t you realize my disdain toward him is my way of protecting you?” Fervency tinged his tone and pulsated from his tense frame. “Jo, I thought the competition in McPherson would be a good experience for the boys’ band. I even thought it might put little Falke on the map. We’re no longer known as the falcon capital of Kansas, thanks to hunters and trappers who nearly obliterated the poor bird our town was named after. But I wish now I’d never mentioned the End of Harvest celebration, because it’s become less about the boys and more about Gil making a name for himself. So he can put it on his résumé and impress the bigwigs of New York.” His voice turned hard. “I think we should cancel before these parents invest in uniforms that will be worn for one performance and then stuck in the closet to rot. You said Gil was being a good steward? Well, not in this case. The uniforms will be a waste. The entire thing will be a waste.”
Ava examined the boys waiting for their folks. They were smiling, eager, as excited as puppies exploring the yard for the first time. She shook her head. “It won’t be a waste, Joseph. Even if they only perform in one competition, for the rest of their lives they will carry the memories of working together, of making something beautiful and sharing it with an audience.” Just as she would carry memories, both sweet and bitter, of Gil forever. To her chagrin, tears distorted her vision. She blinked and turned aside.
Joseph lightly gripped her chin between his thumb and finger and lifted her face to him. “You have memories, too, Ava. Memories with Gil. I see them swimming in your eyes. But dothey make you smile in remembrance, or do they haunt you? Be honest. If not with me, then with yourself. Don’t you truly wish, deep down, that he hadn’t returned to Falke?”
“Ava?” Papa’s voice carried from behind her.
Ava stepped free of Joseph’s hold. “Coming, Papa.” She lifted the hem of her skirt and nearly jogged to her father. She grabbed his sturdy arm and held tight.
He looked down at her with concern. “Are you all right? What were you doing over there with Joseph Baty?”
“Nothing. Only talking.” She sent a quick glance over her shoulder. Joseph remained where she’d left him, his stern gaze aimed in Gil’s direction. “I don’t understand him at all, Papa. One minute he acts as if he’s Gil’s biggest supporter, and the next he’s criticizing everything Gil does. I can’t keep up with him.”
“Then don’t try.”
Papa’s blunt reply made Ava laugh. “That sounded like Mama’s practicality.”
He patted her hand. “Your mama is a smart lady. And we’ve left her alone far too long. Come, let’s go home.” He escorted her to their carriage, talking as they went. “Did I remember to tell you that I invited Gil and Roald over for lunch?”
He hadn’t, but the invitation didn’t worry her. The pork roast and vegetables she’d put in the oven before they left would easily feed extras. “That’s fine.” She nearly rolled her eyes at herself. How quickly she’d changed her tune about Gil sitting across the dining room table from her.
