Through the Deep Waters by Kim Vogel Sawyer

friends.” But were they? She’d been so certain she and Dinah would grow as close as she and Phoebe had been. But if Dinah came from an affluent background, she’d always be different from Phoebe. And different from Ruthie. Maybe they’d never be friends.
    Dinah stared at her. Her stunned expression showed her disbelief.
    Ruthie hung her head as another tentacle of guilt wrapped itself around her. Had she really invited Dinah to church to appease her own conscience? What of Dinah’s soul? The girl obviously had no relationship with God. If Jesus’s statement about rich men entering heaven was true—and of course Jesus didn’t lie!—then Dinah needed to hear Papa’s preaching. She needed to hear how much God loved her.
    Ruthie reached for Dinah again, but the girl drew back, avoiding Ruthie’s fingers. She sighed. “Dinah, may I be honest with you?”
    She offered a hesitant nod even though her eyes flashed denial.
    Ruthie gathered her courage, then spoke in a rush before she lost her nerve. “I want you to come to church with me to meet my family because I want them to know who my new roommate is, but mostly I want you to come because I love God very much and God loves you very much and I think the two of you need to become acquainted. The best place to get to know Him is in church. So will you come?”
    Dinah set her lips in a firm line. Her body seemed to tremble. With rage? disdain? discomfort? Ruthie didn’t know, but her heart ached as she witnessed the turmoil shuddering its way through Dinah’s slight frame.
    A bell rang.
    Both girls looked toward the doorway. Then they looked at each other. Ruthie started to set her plate aside to see to the guest’s need, but Dinah leaped up first.
    “I’ll get it. Enjoy your pie.” Dinah dashed out the door as if demons chased her.

Dinah
    Was she really doing this? Dinah climbed into the back of the two-bench buggy Mr. Irwin made available to businessmen who came to town. All night she’d wrestled with herself, bouncing back and forth between wanting to go to church with Ruthie and not wanting to go. She’d often walked past an ornate church building in Chicago. Its enormous stained-glass window of a man in a flowing robe with his arms outstretched had beckoned to her. But when she asked Tori about visiting the building, her mother laughed and said the holier-than-thou people would chase her out if she dared to darken their doorway. Dinah hadn’t known what “holier than thou” meant, but the way Tori spit the words let her know it wasn’t a good thing. So Dinah had stayed away.
    But now here she was, planning to enter a church for the first time in her life. Because Ruthie said she would meet God there. Because Ruthie said God loved her very much. The very thought drew Dinah in with the same intensity as the image formed by pieces of colored glass. Would this Kansas church be filled with holier-than-thou people who would chase her away like the one in Chicago, or would they let her in so she could meet God?
    One of the busboys, Dean, had been assigned the duty of transporting the girls to church. He sat proudly in the front holding the reins. Ruthie clambered up beside Dinah, followed by two of the servers, Lyla and Minnie. The remaining two servers, Matilda and Amelia, shared the front seat with the busboy.
    Dean flicked a glance into the back, and a grin climbed his cheek. “You look as snug as cigars in a new box back there.”
    Minnie slapped his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be talking about cigars, Dean Muller!”
    “She’s right,” Ruthie added, her lips pursed up as if she’d tasted something sour. “Cigars don’t make for nice Sunday morning talk.”
    He laughed, his dimples flashing. “I didn’t invite you to smoke one. No need to get yourself in a dither.”
    Ruthie frowned, but Minnie hid her smile behind her fingers and giggled. She fluttered her lashes at Dean, the way the girls at Miss Flo’s used to do to entice the men to choose