Read Online The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots by Karla Akins - Free Book Online

freedom.”
    After our rest, we went to the cemetery and made our way through the maze of little roads. Reba seemed satisfied with our practice that day.
    “OK, girls,” she said. “Tomorrow, we hit the road. We’ll go to Wabash for ice cream.”
    “But you have to travel on a highway to get to Wabash.” Opal whined.
    Lily rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What are you going to do, Opal, ride around in the cemetery all your life?”
    “Maybe. Better riding in it than sleeping in it like all these folks.” She pointed to the grave markers.
    I cleared my throat. “I have a confession to make. I’ve never gone over thirty-five miles per hour.”
    “Not a problem,” Reba said. “Once you get out on the highway, you’ll want to go faster. You’ll see.”
    “But what if I don’t?
    “Then we’ll all go thirty-five miles per hour. I won’t lose you.”
    I had my doubts about that.

     
     
     

10
     
    “Excuse me? Did I hear right, or are my ears deceiving me again?” Elder Watson Cobb’s jowls shook when he talked. “You want us to pray and bless a bunch of motorcycles?”
    “It’s more like you pray for the biker than the bike, but you know, you bless the bike to ask the Lord to protect the bikers on the road, that kind of thing.” I passed out brownies and napkins, careful not to make eye contact.
    “Has anyone ever seen one done before?” My husband looked around the conference table where we sat in the fellowship hall and everyone shook their heads.
    “Look.” I set the brownies down and took a seat beside Aaron. “It’s simply another way to bless a group of people who don’t normally come to church. We pray over the bikers, serve a lunch, maybe a band plays Christian music, and then we ride.”
    “That sounds reasonable.” Aaron took a bite of brownie and wiped his fingers on his napkin.
    “It’s ridiculous,” Elder Norman said. “Bernice will never go for it.”
    “But it’s not Bernice’s decision.” I took a quick bite of my brownie.
    Aaron glared at me.
    “When would we do this?” Elder Pete studied his coffee cup, deep in thought.
    “As soon as possible. On a Sunday after church,”I spoke with my hand over my mouth full of brownie.
    “Where would we do it?” Norman tapped his fingers on the table. He didn’t touch his brownie. Not a good sign.
    “In the parking lot,” I said. “We could easily take our sound equipment out there and—”
    “Whoa, now, wait a minute. The Millers donated that sound equipment in memory of their father. I’m not sure they’ll like the idea of using it out of doors.” Deacon Wilcox looked across the table at Norman for support, and he got it.
    “But they donated it to be used.” I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Surely they won’t mind when they learn it’s being used for outreach.”
    Aaron shot me a look again and raised his eyebrows. I recognized his “know-your-place” look. I almost glared back at himbut avoided his gaze instead.
    “What about our insurance?” Norman looked at Pete Hansen, our church treasurer.
    “We’re covered for any activity that takes place on church grounds.” Peteshot me a smile. I could usually count on his support.
    “I don’t know.” Norman cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “Seems dangerous to me. And noisy. The neighbors won’t like it.”
    “It’ll be during the day, on Sunday at lunch time, not at night when they’re trying to sleep.”I hoped I didn’t sound sarcastic.
    “Well, I know Bernice isn’t going to like it, and if Bernice doesn’t like it, you know half the church won’t like it.” Norman looked at all the board and gave a slow nod.
    I leaned over to whisper in Aaron’s ear. “But one person shouldn’t be allowed to be the majority.”
    “What’s the purpose of this anyway?” Pete asked.
    “It’s an outreach,” Aaron finally spoke up. “A way to pray for protection for people who ride motorcycles and to show them the love of