The pastor eyed Ruth, looked away, and stood--chuckling through every move.

Ruth unhooked her elbows, aghast. Here she had thought the pastor would be fully on her side and, instead, he was laughing, wholeheartedly, at her ticket situation. Eyeing him with some reserve she said, "Do you wanna let me in on the joke, Father? I'd love a good laugh, too, ya know."

Pastor Westfield stepped out from behind his desk. Reaching back, he grabbed Ruth's paper from the desktop, then reached out to her and tenderly took hold of her hand.

"My dear," he said, gaining control of his laughter. "This isn't a summons." He released her hand and unfolded the church bulletin that she'd given  him--the very paper that she thought was "the ticket." Then, holding it up for her to see he added, "It's an invitation of sorts."

"A what?" Ruth stood and took the paper from him.

"An invitation," the pastor restated. "To Nicholas Night's becoming a part of our church. He's setting to become a deacon here at St. Mary's."

"Nicholas Night?" Ruth said, bewildered, reading over the page in her hand. "'Officer' Nicholas Night--'that' Nicholas Night?"

Pastor Westfield nodded with a blissful grin on his face. "Yes, 'your' Officer Night. His picture's in the bulletin. Right there." He pointed to it. "The bulletin that you thought was a ticket he gave you, when, in fact, it was an invitation he wrote to you 'on' that church bulletin."

Without direction, Ruth, hastily, stepped around the room. "B-But I watched him write me a ticket."

"Ah...you watched," said the pastor, raising his index finger in playful reprimand as he continued, "but you did not 'see,' Ruth." He pointed to the inked handwriting on the church bulletin. "Nicholas penned a personal note on here to you."

Ruth glanced up at the pastor, then back down at the bulletin's handwritten words and read them aloud: "Dear 'Ms.' Mitchell." She paused and smiled, as she recalled Nicholas's earlier title address to her, her correction to him, and his use of "that" during her traffic stop, then she continued to audibly read his words: "The Lord works in mysterious ways." She sniffled and brushed a tear from her reddening cheek. "I'd like you to be alongside me, Ruth, as I become one of God's new messengers. Sincerely in Christ, (soon to be) Deacon Night."

Pastor Westfield brought his hands together in a joyful, silent prayer to the Almighty, for his organist's love-at-first-sight happiness.

"I'm sorry you hadn't met Nicholas before today, Ruth. But he's only recently transferred to our police department from High Peak Falls."

"The city?"

"Yes. And I know him to be very good people, as they say, Ruth."

The organist gasped. "At the traffic stop, I thought he wasn't much of a churchgoer. How wrong I was," she uttered twisting and squiring in place. "His...wife must be very happy--I know I'd be. How wonderful to have a lawman husband, who's also a man of the cloth."

"Officer Night is single, Ruth," replied the pastor with ultimate care and assurance, stepping toward her. "You need not worry about your thoughts."

Ruth had never before felt such joy and power coming from the pastor's look. It was as though he were giving her a purposeful direction to follow--something that she felt she couldn't deny, nor should she...if that's what she chose to do.

"And...it's okay for me to be happy...about that, Pastor Westfield? I mean, that Officer Night doesn't have...a wife?"

"What would be wrong about that, Ruth?"

She thought about it, then shrugged.

He smiled. "Nicholas had wished to keep the announcement secret for a little while longer, Ruth."

That revelation, pleasantly, startled her, and she answered him with an upswing in her tone. "Oh?"

"That is," said the pastor, stepping about, thinking for a moment before adding, "until I mentioned it at the later service today--that he'll be studying with us." He turned to look Ruth in the eye. "The service that he's going to be attending...and that you're going to be playing at, too."

With more restrained delight and relationship-to-bud confidence, Ruth answered, "I...see...."

"I can only guess, Ruth, that his meeting you earlier had made him realize one thing."

"And what's that?"

Arching a bit back as he placed his hands on his hips, the pastor answered, "You mean, you don't know, Ruth?"

Blank faced, she shook her head.

"Oh, my, dear with child," he said with tenderness. Then he added his friendly summation: "That he shouldn't keep his calling a secret until it's revelation at that service...at least, not from you."

Ruth stepped back in fear of what she was beginning to realize--that her feelings for Officer Nicholas Night, whom she had just met were, indeed, now setting a relationship path on which she was to travel with him.

"Then since he didn't ticket me," she marveled, her hand rubbing her baby bump, "the light must have truly just been yellow."

"Was it?" asked the pastor through a whimsical simper.

"I did ask God for help at the time."

"Ask and you shall receive, Ruth," said the wise man of the church. "If the time is right for you to receive it, I've always believed."

"B-But why me--us--now? Why this way?"

Without hesitation, Pastor Westfield answered, "A heavenly-Easter blessing, Ruth. The Lord is always looking out for each of us, and works in mysterious ways, to bring about happiness to all."

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