Excerpt:

She allowed him to guide her away from the kitchen and take her across the hall to the parlor. Once seated on the divan, he took her trembling hands between his. Although she was suddenly chilled, David's touch was warm and comforting.

"Let me into your world. Tell me about the demons that torment you."

"Oh, David, you can't... You don't want me in your church. I'm only a woman. Pa said women are the Lord's leavings. The only thing they know is to be whores and sluts. I've tried so hard, but even though he's been gone all these years, he won't leave me alone or let me forget it."

As soon as she spoke the words, they seemed to lose their hold over her.

"Did he take you to church when you were a child?"

David's voice sounded far away, making Hattie open her eyes to assure herself he still sat at her side. Once convinced he hadn't left her, she shook her head no. "Church and God are for men folk," she replied, again repeating the words she'd heard her father say so often.

"But you've seen women in church."

Unable to think for herself, she continued giving voice to her father's opinions. "Their men are too weak to make them stay in the house where they belong."

"Why do you go to church?"

"At first it was because Abe said it was good for business. When George's father asked me to play the piano, I seized the opportunity. Where else in town could I do something I so loved and have others hear my music. I certainly would never set foot in the tavern. That was Pa's favorite place. I wanted no reminders of him."

"I still don't understand," David said when she stopped to take a breath. "How could you attend church every Sunday for five years and not get something out of the sermons?"

"I don't like the look of this storm," Hattie said, successfully changing the subject.

"It's not the storm I came here to discuss."

"I know it's not, but I don't like the other topic you had in mind. I really hate storms and am glad that you are here, but please don't push me."

"Storms are as normal as sunshine. While I'm here with you, you have nothing to fear."

Hattie looked out at the sky. If she didn't know it was midday she would have thought night had fallen early. "I can't ever remember a storm like this. We had a tornado go through just south of town once, but then the sky was yellow, almost like the color of dry mustard and it was as still as death. We certainly didn't have rain like this, although the wind did pick up once the tornado was at its peak."

"I've heard about tornadoes but never seen one. I agree this storm is a bad one, but you still haven't answered me. Have you gotten anything out of the five years of sermons you listened to?"

Hattie thought for a moment. A complete stranger was uncovering her innermost secrets. It was something no one had ever done before. And before she could answer David's question, a flash of lightning illuminated the entire room. It took less time than a heartbeat for the clap of thunder to rattle the dishes in the china closet. The sheer force of the storm made her jump.

No sooner had Mother Nature unleashed her fury again then the mantel clock struck one.

"I should reopen the shop," Hattie said, pleased for an excuse to end the conversation with David.

"No one will be out in this weather. If you feel you must reopen, we can continue our conversation in your shop."

Hattie sighed deeply. It was as though even nature was on David's side. No one in their right mind would brave this storm to stop at the shop today. On this Friday afternoon, her friends and neighbors would be content to stay indoors and watch the magnitude of the storm from their windows.

"We might as well get comfortable. I have a feeling this is going to be a long afternoon. Would you like some coffee and brownies?"

Hattie was about to get to her feet when David stopped her. "The dessert can wait. You haven't answered my question."

"I'll answer you, but you might not want to hear what I have to say."

"That sounds mysterious. Since I enjoy a good mystery, do you plan to tell me now or make me wait?"

"Perhaps it's best if I show you," she replied, getting to her feet. This time David didn't stop her. She crossed the room to the bookcase built into the wall of the parlor.

In front of her the floor to ceiling shelves were filled with books. Classical novels from generations past mingled with modern works. Some of the books belonged to her, others to Abe. She'd read dozens of them over the past five years but still had more to read before she was finished.

"You know that I carry lemon oil in my bag on Saturday. On Sunday mornings my music bag contains a book. When Jonathan was our preacher, I had no trouble reading during his sermons, especially when My Piano was in the balcony."

To her surprise, David began to laugh. "Maybe I should check out some of these titles. I do hope they're appropriate reading for a proper lady like you. As for Your Piano being moved from the balcony, you must admit, it does sound better in its current location."

The storm outside raged with a fury while inside the tension seemed to drain. Hattie's worst nightmares, her worst fears had come to life and for some unknown reason the world hadn't come to an end.

David looked over the titles on Hattie's bookshelves. Homer's Odyssey shared shelf space with Uncle Tom's Cabin.

"If these books helped you ignore Reverend Hall's sermons," he finally said. "What do you do to ignore mine, since you're no longer hidden away in the balcony?"

"You're not an easy man to block out. Believe me, I've tried. The first Sunday, I opened my book, but never read a word. Of course, you know what happened last Sunday. Since I couldn't read, I tried the mind games I used when Abe first suggested I go to church, only they didn't work."

Before David could say more, another flash of light illuminated the storm-darkened sky. This time there was no time lag between the lightning and the accompanying thunder. He knew the strike had to be close.

With the wind and driving rain, a branch broke off from the maple tree across the street and shattered the front parlor window. David heard the crack of the branch breaking from the tree but before he could react the wind had driven it with such force it hit Hattie on the temple, knocking her unconscious. He was shocked as glass from the window imbedded itself into the flesh of his forearm. The scene was like nothing he had ever witnessed. The floor was littered with shards of glass mixed with blood from not only the gash on Hattie's forehead, but from his own cuts as well. The rain pouring through not only the broken window but also the hole that had been made in the roof added to the mess littering the floor of the parlor.

Uncertain exactly what to do, he prayed for help. As though God guided his hand, David scooped Hattie into his arms and carried her away from the destruction of the storm to the security of her bedroom.

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Author BIO: Growing up as an only child on a small south central Wisconsin farm, Sherry Derr-Wille’s playmates were mainly her imaginary friends. Years later those friends and the games she created around them became the characters for her many books.

Beginning her writing career while still in high school, she wrote mainly for her own pleasure until signing her first contract in July of 2002. Since then she has signed twenty-nine contracts and has fourteen books in print.

Wife of forty years, mother of three grown children, grandmother of seven, and mild-mannered receptionist by day, she is first and foremost a writer. From her home in south central Wisconsin, she writes and writes and writes. Since her career finally took off, she deems her husband, Bob, a saint for putting up with her eccentricities.