THE NOVEL "HEAVEN SENT" IS THE EXCLUSIVE  PROPERTY OF ALISON LONGSTAFF
It is not to be published, circulated, or distributed in any fashion without the prior consent of the author.

         "O.K.  Everyone clap this rhythm for me."  Sue set down her baton and clapped an unusual rhythm chanting,"'Hamburger, hamburger, onion!  Hamburger, hamburger, onion!'  Now it's your turn."  She gestured to the grinning faces.
        "Hamburger, hamburger, onion!  Hamburger, hamburger, onion!" the choir clapped.
        "Great.  Let's try it again," Sue said. "‘Hamburger, hamburger, onion!  Hamburger, hamburger, onion!'  Go!"
         Sue glanced up and saw someone who looked astonishingly like Jesus standing in the doorway.  He was watching intently.  Sue's heart did a funny skip and she lost her place.
        "...onion," the choir finished.  Then, at Sue's staring silence, several choir members turned in their chairs to look behind them.
         "Don't let me interrupt."   'Jesus' had a sweetly resonant voice with a light British accent.  He was wearing jeans and a nicely creased cotton shirt over a royal blue turtleneck.  "It sounds great. Delicious, actually."  He leaned against the doorpost with his hands deep in his pockets.
         Sue tucked a loose curl behind her ear and looked down at her music.  It seemed to be in Arabic.  She looked up again and asked, "Who - "  But the doorway was empty.
         "Who was that?" Peter Bender, Sue's cousin, called from the tenor section.  The same question was flying back and forth in murmured excitement.
         "It looked like God, Sue,"  Tanny Smith piped up, her dimples in evidence.  "And He likes hamburger!"
         "Shut up, Tanny," Sue scolded her best friend.
         "I've never seen him before," said Laura Bender, Peter's wife.
         "I know who it is," announced Margaret Inquist, sitting up proudly at the end of the row of altos.  The room hushed to listen.  "That was our new music pastor, and I think it is appalling. I knew we should have interviewed him face-to-face before we hired him, overseas or not.  Long hair!  For heaven's sake!  First thing he needs to know about this town is where the barber is."
         Sue felt a blush rise from her feet right up to the roots of her hair.  The new assistant pastor? And he'd seen her making the choir chant about hamburgers?  Her head ached.
         "He's staying at your place, isn't he, Isaiah?"  This was Peter Bender again, addressing his taciturn brother.  "Why didn't you tell us he was here?"  All eyes turned to Isaiah in the bass section.
         "He just got here," Isaiah rumbled.  This seemed to be all the information Isaiah deemed important.  He just sat there looking unconcerned.  The murmuring started up again.
         Sue gathered herself.  Her cheeks were hot and her stomach had dropped in dismay when she realized that the new pastor would be staying right next door to her.
         "O.K." she squawked, and cleared her throat.  "So ‘Jesus' is our new music director.  He doesn't officially start until December first, so let's get in shape!"

         Sue hummed "Silent Night" as she gathered up the music folders.  The chairs were stacked and the last choir member had departed.  She picked up a big stack of scores and steadied it under her chin.  She turned to see Pastor Stephen Shantz in the doorway.  He had ‘Jesus' with him.  The two men crossed the gymnasium.
         "Sue.  I would like you to meet Jonathan Haley.  He will be our new music minister.  He has just arrived, and I thought you two should meet."
         "I, um . . . " Sue said, still balancing the stacked scores under her chin.  "Just a minute."  She turned and dumped the books back onto the piano bench.  She swiped her hand against the leg of her jeans before extending it to her replacement.
         "Hi.  Welcome.  Sue Rennie," she said.
         His grip was warm and steady.  "It's a pleasure," he said.  Sue found herself liking his grin, and the clean lines of his beard.  His eyes, however, gave her the uncanny feeling that he could see  into her soul.
         "Jon will be staying right next door to you until we find him an apartment," said the pastor. "Isaiah's agreed to give him a room.  That should make it easy for you two to compare notes."  The pastor turned to his new colleague.  "Sue is our current music director, in case you couldn't tell." He smiled.  "She has been doing a great job."
         Sue could feel the new man's assessing gaze.  She felt her cheeks warm, but resolutely kept her eyes on the pastor.
         "We've set Jon up in one corner of the secretary's office for now.  I'd love for him to have his own office, but he turned down the boiler room and the men's washroom."  The pastor shrugged. "There's no pleasing some folks."
         The new man looked at Sue and said straight faced, "The boiler room was a bit noisy, and I think I would have gotten lost in all those brooms and boxes. The washroom didn't have a window."  He looked matter of fact.  "A man needs to have some fresh air."
         Sue found herself smiling into those dark eyes.  "We really do need an addition."  She laughed.  "Maybe if you did set up your office in the men's room, we might actually get the congregation finally to come to an agreement on the addition proposal!"
         "I'd like to see the congregation agree on anything," sighed the pastor.
         "You might have a point," Jon replied, eyes twinkling.  "Let me think about it."
         "Jon, if you can get the congregation to agree on what flowers should go in the front garden," said the pastor, "I'll give you a medal!"
         "Yeah!" was Sue's chuckling agreement.
         "Well, I've got to leave you two," said the Pastor, grinning.  "I promised Liz not to stay too late," he added, waving in the direction of the rectory.  He turned to Sue.  "Will you see that Jon makes it back to Isaiah's safely?"
         "Sure," Sue said.
         The Pastor touched Jonathan's shoulder.  "We'll see you tomorrow night for supper, eh?"
         "Thank you.  I'm looking forward to it."  The men shook hands.  Pastor Shantz saluted Sue and headed back across the gym.
         "Good night, Steve," Sue called.
         "He's a good man," Sue said, watching her pastor as he left.
         She grinned at Jonathan.  "Eh?"  She chuckled and added, "Welcome to Canada, eh?"
        Great Scott, he has amazing eyes, she thought.  She couldn't hold his gaze, and her eyes strayed to the clock on the wall.
         He was watching her intently again, grinning at her humour.  He said, "A very good man.  I think we'll work well together."
         Sue liked the musical way he said "together."  It sounded more like "togethah," and she felt a fluttering in her heart.  Dammit, she thought.  I don't want to like him.  He is my replacement, and I want to be mad for a while.  She turned to gather up the music.
         "So, you are from England then?" she asked.
         "South Africa, actually,"  he replied then added, "allow me,"  and lifted a good two-thirds of the scores off the top of the stack.  "After you," he said.
         "You're quite good, you know," he said, following her silent shoulders down the corridor. "Why did they hire me, when they have you?"
         I don't want to be having this conversation, Sue thought. She hesitated in answering,  stopping instead to turn on the light in the church office.  Actually, I wish you didn't exist, and I could keep my job, flickered through her mind.  She set the music on a table and turned to open a file cabinet.  "I'm just a volunteer," she replied, choosing to be cheerful.  "I don't really have the training, or even a degree in music.  I certainly don't play the organ very well!" she added, then shrugged.  "It is time for a real, full-time professional."  She glanced at him.  "That's you."
         Jon was handing music to her as she filed.  "Ah, the politically correct answer," he drawled, and tried to catch her eyes.  But she continued to work.  Jonathan studied her.  He longed to turn her face to him, to discover the reason for the haunted look behind her eyes.  She had attracted him the instant he had rounded the door into the gym and seen her in action.  Her long hair had been caught loosely back in a ponytail, and her whole body moved, almost danced as she conducted.  When her startled brown eyes had risen and seen him, he had felt a current run through him.  In that instant he had sensed fire, strength, passion, and a deep sorrow, and his soul had leapt as if responding to an ancient friend.
         Sue slammed the file drawer shut and turned to face him.  Her smile was bright.   "No, that's the real story."  She paused and her eyes dropped from his.  "Anyway, I'll be happy to give you a tour of the supplies and show you the organ."  Her brown eyes lifted again.  "But tonight I need to get home to my kids."
         Kids. Kids.  The word reverberated through Jonathan's brain. She is married?  The unexpected realization shuddered through him.  "Whenever is convenient," he found himself saying.  "May I walk you to your car?"
         They left the office, switching off the light behind them.  Sue grabbed a thick winter coat from the coat room and Jon instantly helped her into it.
         I've missed this, Sue thought.  She began fishing for gloves in her deep pockets.  "I walked," she told him.
         "Well then, let me walk you home," he said, retrieving his own thin jacket from the coat room.
         Sue looked at the light, windbreaker-style jacket as Jon pulled it on.  "Is that all you've got?" she asked when they stepped out into the glassed entry.  Her breath hung in the air as she turned to lock the door.
         "Not at all, I've got this," and he dramatically produced a black knit cap.  "The pastor's wife insisted I take it.  I believe she called it a ‘toop'."
         Sue laughed.  "It's called a ‘toque', and it won't be . . . "
         But Jon had jammed the cap on his head so that it partly covered his eyes.  He smiled bravely.  "There.  Now I'm ready for your worst winter storm."
        Wintah storm echoed in Sue's head, the accent flipping her heart even as layers of old associations crowded the corners of her thoughts.
         Jon saw the flicker of darkness in her eyes, and again felt a tug of protectiveness.  But Sue had pulled a scarf from one of her pockets and was wrapping it around his neck.  She straightened his cap before she realized what she was doing, then backed off in confusion.  "You are hopelessly unready," she had been saying.   "Um . . . take these too," she then added, and held out her thick, padded gloves.
         There was an awkward pause, as both struggled to ignore the intimacy that simple act had aroused.  Then Sue shoved the gloves into his hands and turned to push the great glass doors open in the wind.
         "I can't take these," Jon was yelling as he crowded out behind her.  The force of the wind knocked him nearly breathless and tiny flakes were stinging his face.  He was suddenly hugely grateful for the scarf.  Sue had turned her back and was marching relentlessly off in the ankle-deep powder, her hands buried in her pockets.  Jon shoved on the thick gloves, still warm from her hands. He hurried after her, snow filling his running shoes.