I Shall Not Want

were forever led toward the Throne of God, a woman emerged out of shadow and stone. Black shirt. Black skirt. It took a second before Hadley realized she wasn't wearing a turtleneck but a white clerical collar.

'I'm Clare Fergusson.' She moved close enough for Hadley to make out her face, cheekbones, chin, and nose, all points and angles. 'I'm the rector here at St. Alban's.' She smiled a welcome, but there was a bone-deep sadness about her that the smile couldn't dissipate.

'I know,' Hadley said. 'I mean, I've heard about you. My grandfather's Glenn Hadley.'

Reverend Fergusson's smile tried to brighten. 'You must be Hadley Knox. Mr. Hadley's been talking about your visit for two weeks now.' She glanced toward the church door. 'Um, if you're looking for him, I'm afraid he ran out to grab lunch and go to the hardware store. He'll be another hour, I'm guessing.'

Hadley let out an, 'Oh, no,' before she could catch herself.

Reverend Fergusson looked at her. Then at the children. 'You've been traveling a long way.' It wasn't a question. 'How 'bout you come with me. You can wait for your grandfather in the Sunday school room. We've got a comfy sofa and some squishy chairs-and,' she said to Hudson, 'a TV with a VCR.'

'Do you have movies?' Hudson asked, as they entered the hallway leading to the church offices.

'Yep. But I have to warn you, they're all religious. We've got Veggie Tales, and The Prince of Egypt, and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, and the Star Wars movies.'

'Star Wars isn't religious!' Hudson said.

'It's not?' Reverend Fergusson paused at the head of the stairs, her mouth open. 'Darn it, why doesn't anyone ever tell me this stuff?'

It did Hadley's heart good to see her son's tentative smile. Divorce, disruption, relocation-these past months had been brutally hard on her little boy. She followed him down the stairs to the undercroft, watching him stick close to the rector.

'Next you're going to tell me Power Rangers aren't religious.'

Hudson giggled. 'They're not.'

'Dang it, somebody is going to have to answer for this. Who bought these unsuitable movies?' Her eyes widened, and she pressed her fingers against her mouth. 'Uh-oh.'

Hudson laughed openly, guessing the joke. 'You did! You did!'

The Reverend Fergusson's whole body sagged as she plodded down the dimly lit hall. 'I'm so ashamed,' she said. Hudson giggled again. 'And here we are.' She opened a door. She switched on the light to reveal a room that had been made as cheerful as a windowless fluorescent-lit space could be. Hudson ran to check out the low bookcase filled with toys, and even Genny wiggled out of her mother's arms to explore the play kitchen set in the corner.

Reverend Fergusson rolled the television, on its stand, away from the wall and plugged it in. 'We don't get any reception down here, so it's already set to play videos,' she explained. 'You just turn it on and press the PLAY button.' She straightened. Looked at Hadley again, the same way she had upstairs, as if she could see beneath her skin. 'What can I do for you?' she said, half asking, half musing to herself.

The answer popped out before Hadley could help it. 'Tell me where I can get a job around here.' She wanted to call it back as soon as she had said it. The rector had meant something like Can I show you the bathroom or Can I get you a drink of water. Acting the hostess. Cripes, she thought Hadley was here for a visit with Granddad, not to repackage her life.

Except her eyes narrowed and she got an abstracted look, as if she was thinking hard. 'What are you looking for?'

Something where I don't have to speak to another human being. Yeah, that sounded great. 'Anything that doesn't require college. I only have a GED.'

Reverend Fergusson, who probably had degrees up the wazoo, didn't blink. 'There's a lot of seasonal work come summer. Agricultural work, construction. All the places in Lake George hire waitresses and chambermaids. But right now?' She frowned. 'Shape's not hiring. The Reid-Gruyn mill is letting people go, now they've been bought out. Let me ask around and see if anyone I know has a position open. What did you do in… where are you from again?'

' California. LA.'

'Ah.'

'What?'

The Reverend pinked up. Embarrassed. 'I was thinking you don't look as if you come from around here. Your tan, for one thing. And your hair.'

Hadley ruffled her short hair. 'What about it?'

'Well, it's… trendy. We don't have a lot of trendy here in Millers Kill.'

Hadley almost laughed. 'It's a cosmetology school special. Fifteen bucks. Twenty if you want the shampoo and blow-dry. Which I didn't.'

'Were you'-the rector paused, as if she were searching for the tactful word-'an actress? Or a model?'

Hadley thought for a moment before answering. 'I wanted to be when I first went to California. I discovered when I got out there that gorgeous girls are literally a dime a dozen.' There wasn't any bitterness in her tone anymore. It had been so long ago, it seemed as if those days were something she had seen in a movie rather than something she had lived. 'The past few years I worked for a company that took inventories, I waited tables, stuff like that. Before that, I worked for the state department of corrections.'

'As a secretary?'

'As a guard.'

The reverend's eyebrows shot up. 'Well.' Her mouth stretched, as if she was smiling about something not very funny. 'I know one place in town that has an opening. One of their officers has left for the state police in Latham. The police department's hiring.'

II

Clare sat mesmerized by the falling snow. With her sermon outline cooling on the desk in front of her, she watched the flakes float past the diamond-paned window, each one a spot of brilliance against the soot-gray sky. Flick. Flick. Flick. She had been like this all morning. Unable to focus on her tasks. Unable to care about them-or about much of anything.

Mr. Hadley stuck his head in the door, bringing with him the odor of furniture polish and cigarette smoke. 'Mornin', Father.' His usual address for her. She figured he thought of it as a gender-neutral honorific-like Captain, her other newly resumed title. 'Thanks fer takin' care of my granddaughter yesterday.' Mr. Hadley's North Country accent made the word come out yestiddy.

'How're they doing?'

He grunted. 'They'll all be better now she's left that turd of a husband floatin' in the bowl. Sorry, Father.'

'Mmm.' She squelched her smile. 'It must be good to have her back home.'

''Tain't really her home, though mebbe it comes as close as never no mind. My daughter, God love her, dragged the girl all over the country. Never was able to settle, my Sarah. The only place Honey ever came to twice was here. Sarah used to send her to me an' my wife every summer.'

Clare had lost track of the players. 'Honey?'

'That's her christened name. She changed it to Hadley when she was in her teens.'

I can see why.

'Anyhow, I was just checkin' to see if you wanted me to get you a fire goin'.'