said Rachel for what felt like the fiftieth time. “Will you stop apologizing? I don’t care about the retreat. I just want to be with you.” Noah lifted his hand off the gear shift and settled it over Rachel’s, which was fidgeting in her lap. He squeezed and the fidgets passed. Noah was being the perfect gentleman and saying all the right things, but she couldn’t rid herself of the pang of guilt that came with her request that he take her home. She had sat resolutely through the Sunday morning worship service, but her heart hadn’t been in it. She had been unable to appreciate the glorious venue that had been their house of worship. The blue sky dotted with white stretched above them—a cathedral ceiling painted by God’s own hand. The canopy of willow boughs arched overhead as they all stretched out on the hillside, digging their toes into the lush green carpet and admiring the wildflowers that adorned the makeshift altar. Beyond the altar a stream bubbled and tripped over rocks, the music of its journey adding a poignant counterpoint to the songs and poems that the group had sung and recited together.
