Though None Go with Me by Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

keep her eyes open for a suitable match, “perchance someone able to abide your fancy of pie in the sky by and by.”
    Elisabeth had to smile. Was Aunt Agatha unknowingly angling for her to marry into the faith?
    Elisabeth quickly adjusted to the routine and felt she had gained the kind of discipline her father had tried to instill in her. The work was torturous, the hours unbearable, and her coworkers lazy and selfish. She told Ben she was trying to guard against spiritual superiority. “I know the testing of my faith brings patience and that I should count it all joy. But when I return kindness for evil, even if I don’t get kindness back, I feel some sort of victory.”
    â€œIt is a victory,” Ben said. “But you’re right to guard against smugness.”
    â€œI know,” she said. “And I’m proud that I know.”
    â€œRascal,” he said.
    Elisabeth soon felt at least two weeks behind in her sleep. But she was maturing. She worked harder than ever, and she benefited from hearing Ben speak nearly every night. He would make a fine pastor. It was beyond her how he could speak on so many different topics to different age groups and always find something challenging and interesting to say.
    When she received permission to practice in the auditorium during a rare free moment, Ben joined her on the piano bench. “How am I supposed to concentrate?” she asked.
    â€œI was hoping you wouldn’t,” he said.
    â€œIs that what you call being a good influence on a young person?” she said.
    â€œI hope so.”
    When he rested his hand in the middle of her back, she fought to keep from increasing the tempo. Though she feared perspiring under the warmth of his palm, she hoped he would never take his hand away. But as she finished the song, he withdrew his hand.
    The next time he sat with her, however, he seemed nervous. He said he had only a few minutes. Halfway through the second song, he stood and leaned toward her ear. “Keep playing,” he whispered, “I have to go.”
    She nodded, her eyes on the music, and he brushed her cheek with his lips. She froze, laboring to concentrate as he left. Though the kiss thrilled her, it had been his, not theirs.
    After the evening meeting he seemed awkward, avoiding her gaze as they strolled the dirt pathways that rimmed the camp. When they were alone he said, “I apologize. I had no claim to kiss you. I mean, I didn’t even give you the opportunity to refuse me.”
    â€œOr slap you,” she said.
    â€œI was afraid you might say that. Forgive me?”
    â€œI have too many options,” she said, brushing a mosquito from his forehead. “I could have refused you or slapped you, and now I can forgive you. What’s your preference?”
    â€œThe latter.”
    â€œDenied.”
    â€œIt’s too late to refuse me. Slap me as hard as you want.”
    â€œI can’t forgive what I don’t consider an offense. I will be offended next time, however, if you feel you have to steal it.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to.”
    â€œOf course you did. You didn’t give me the chance to refuse or to give it freely.”
    â€œAnd would you have?”
    â€œI was not given the opportunity to find out.”
    â€œShall I try again?”
    She glanced down the pathway toward the lights near the center of the campground. No one was coming. “I wish you would.”
    The sensation of his lips on hers left her breathless.
    The end of the summer came so quickly that Elisabeth hardly had time to prepare for parting with Ben. Stealing away behind the administration building, beyond curious eyes and the cacophony of dozens of farewells, they embraced fiercely.
    â€œI’ll write,” he whispered.
    â€œMe too,” she said. “Every day. And you’ll come see me?”
    â€œFirst chance I get.”
    â€œI can’t wait,” she said.
    Ben fell silent,