Page 194 of Sing with Me

Skye prayed silently for their safety.

Driving through the rain, Diehl hummed a tune.

“What was that hymn you sang to me last weekend?” Diehl asked.

“Which one?”

“Something about God’s amazing love?”

Skye began singing a line or two.

“Yes, that one,” Diehl said.

“Did you know that Charles Wesley wrote the words in 1738, the same year he was saved?” Skye asked.

“Really?”

Skye nodded. “Two years before that, he visited Savannah and St. Simon’s Island in 1736, where he preached in a church service at Fort Frederica.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Skye started singing the first stanza of the hymn.

And can it be that I should gain

an interest in the Saviour's blood?

Died He for me, who caused His pain?

For me, who Him to death pursued?

Amazing love! how can it be,

that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

When she finished, Diehl said, “Teach me the words.”

For the rest of the way to Athens, they sang a duet until Diehl had half the song memorized. The rain outside kept falling, but the thunders were far away now.

In spite of the rain, the small college town was bustling with umbrellas and ponchos everywhere as people—students, residents, visitors—milled about, running from car to restaurants and vice versa, walking here and there at nine thirty at night.

“Yes, that way.” The GPS in the car suggested the same route she would take. “Sebastian traded his house by the marshes on St. Simon’s for a small apartment in Athens so that he could pour the rest of the funds into Sage Café. I don’t know what the appeal is, but he’s opening Sage Café in Buckhead next year.”

“Let me know as soon as he does because I’ll tell everyone,” Diehl said. “Lots of people in my office eat lunch in Buckhead.”

“Thank you. He’d like that.”

The rain started again, with the rumblings in the sky and bolts of lightning.

“Are you and your brother very close?” Diehl asked as he turned into the parking lot of a large apartment complex.

“Yes. Well, I should saywas—because he’s married now. God sent the perfect woman for him,” Skye said. “Before he married, my brother and I did a lot of businesses together—restaurant, catering, cooking for clients. Then we branched out into our own different interests, but from time to time, we still do it together. Look, someone’s leaving.”

The rain fell in sheets.

Slowly, Diehl eased into the empty parking spot.

“Let me see if I have an umbrella.” Diehl reached in between the seats to the back. “Uh-oh. I must not have thought of putting one in here.”

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