“Alright, alright!” I shut my bedroom door and quickly start yanking on the white sundress.

Twelve minutes later,papa’s pickup truck bounces off the dirt road onto the little patch of grass where the other townspeople are parked.

“He’s the real deal, honey,” papa gushes as he puts the rumbling truck in park and turns off the engine. “Gene Parsons said this guy visited his cousin’s town up in Tenseness last summer?” papa whistles. “Said it was the best dang sermon he ever did hear. Moved him in ways the Lord is supposed ta move ya.”

Papa reaches up with his perpetually grease-stained hands from the garage and puts a hand...