The Parson's Waiting Read online

  Laughing, Anna Louise watched Maisey march determinedly across the church grounds, her aim straight for the line in front of the kissing booth. When the idea for such a booth had been proposed, there had been some commotion at the church. It had been resolved when Doc Benson, who belonged to a different congregation, had agreed to run it.

  She studied Jonathan Benson and wondered why she wasn’t the least bit tempted to join the line. He was handsome enough with his warm brown eyes and dark brown hair. He’d been smart enough to get his medical school degree from Harvard and to serve an internship at Johns Hopkins. And he had a dry sense of humor that she could appreciate. But there was none of that chemistry all the romantic fairy tales talked about. She liked Jonathan Benson enough to share a cup of tea with him occasionally, but that was it. She definitely had no desire to go over and plunk down a dollar for a kiss, not even for a good cause.

  Not that it would have been an appropriate thing for her to do, anyway. The church’s congregation would have been scandalized. She wondered how they’d feel if they knew the thoughts that had scampered through her head when Richard Walton had held her in his arms a few days earlier.

  With his hard, trim body, his too long hair that looked as if it had been kissed by sunlight and his haunted eyes, he was the kind of man that stirred a woman’s sympathy and senses. Anna Louise had learned long ago that that particular combination was deadly. An attractive man was one thing, but one who looked as if he needed loving care was downright dangerous. She’d decided on the spot that Richard Walton was definitely such a man.

  In general, her life in Kiley was an open book, but her thoroughly feminine reaction to Maisey’s grandson was definitely something she didn’t intend to share with a soul. Unfortunately, Maisey seemed to have guessed. Anna Louise wondered what it would take to persuade her to keep her suspicions to herself. Knowing Maisey’s sense of mischief and her powerful desire to play matchmaker, Anna Louise expected the price would be high.

  * * *

  “Young man, I want you out of that bed right this instant,” Maisey stated firmly from the doorway to Richard’s room.

  He bolted upright, stared at Maisey through sleep-blurred eyes, groaned, rolled over and buried his head under a pillow. Maybe she would give up and go away.

  “Richard!”

  “It’s the middle of the night,” he protested.

  “I don’t know why you’re so tired. I’m the one who spent the whole afternoon at the bazaar yesterday. I haven’t had that much excitement in a long while. That nice Doc Benson is quite a kisser.”

  That brought his head up. “You were kissing a doctor?” He tried to recall a physician his grandmother’s age. He came up blank. “Who is he?”

  “He’s very handsome,” she said slyly. “And not a day over forty. Quite a catch.”

  Richard felt a headache coming on. Where had he gotten the idea that his grandmother’s health was failing? Obviously the real problem was that she was delusional. “You and some forty-year-old doctor were making out down at the church yesterday?”

  “It was worth every penny I paid him for it, too,” she said, and sashayed off, leaving behind the familiar scent of her lilac perfume.

  Richard bolted out of bed and managed to dress in less than five minutes. He roared into the kitchen. “Grandmother, what the devil is going on?”

  “For goodness’ sakes, Richard, it was just a few kisses.” she said indignantly. She grinned at him. “It was for a good cause. The church needs a new roof.”

  Richard sank down and buried his head in his hands. “I don’t believe this. Why would you do this to me?”

  “Do what?”

  He scowled at her. “Never mind.”

  “Go get your good shirt on. We’re due at church in a half hour.”

  Going to church was not the way Richard had planned to spend his morning. If that woman he’d met in the orchard was baking pies for the church bazaar, then she was also likely to be sitting there in the middle of the congregation. Bolts of lightning were reserved for men who thought the kinds of thoughts she inspired, especially while sitting in church. Besides, he hadn’t exactly experienced a lot in the last few years to reinforce the spiritual teachings of his childhood.

  “Sorry. I think I’ll do some work around here.”

  “And how am I supposed to get there?” she demanded, making an obvious attempt to sound pitiful.

  Richard wasn’t taken in by the act. “You walked down that hill on your own yesterday,” he reminded her. He’d argued with her about it at the time, but she’d been adamant that she would not be dependent on him or anyone else to get around.

  She clasped a hand to her chest. “I’m not so sure I could make it again today. I think it was too much for me.”

  He didn’t buy the convenient excuse for a minute. “I think all that kissing was probably what did you in,” he countered dryly. He finally relented. “Okay, I’ll drive you down and pick you up.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sakes, if you’re going to go to all that trouble, you might as well stay. The service only lasts an hour.”

  He frowned. “Did you ever know General Patton?”

  “Can’t say as I did.”

  “I’m surprised. You two would have had a lot in common.” He sighed and left the table without even one good jolt of coffee. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  He went back upstairs and put on a suit and tie he’d bought years before for a friend’s wedding. He hadn’t had a lot of occasions to wear it since. In fact, it had stayed right here in the old closet, along with the other mementos of his past.

  Downstairs, Maisey nodded approvingly. “Very handsome.”

  “Better looking than the doctor?”

  “Definitely.”

  Not fifteen minutes later they were at the church. Richard managed to avoid giving more than a nod here and there to folks who recognized him. He slid into a pew beside Maisey and settled back to wait out the hour by deciding which project around the house to tackle first. He stood when nudged, sat down with everyone else, all the while paying little or no attention to anything going on.

  Then he heard her voice, low and mellow and totally captivating. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it was the woman from the orchard. And she seemed to be starting the sermon.

  Richard’s gaze shot up and, sure enough, there she was, standing square behind the lectern, looking as innocent as a newborn babe, in a gray dress with a prim little lace collar. That dress looked as if it had come from Maisey’s closet about forty years ago. Sedate was the kindest word he could think of to describe it. She still looked lovely...and official. His mouth fell open.

  Maisey tucked her arm through his and leaned close. “We’ve been needing someone with a spark of energy for years now. The church hasn’t been the same since she came. Isn’t she something?”

  “What on earth is she doing up there?” he asked, still not willing to acknowledge the logical answer. He had to hear it spelled out in plain English, and even then he knew he wasn’t going to like it.

  “Why, she’s the preacher, of course.”

  Even though he’d expected it, the announcement left him speechless. He waited for that bolt of lightning from the heavens to strike him down for the lascivious thoughts he’d had about her. When he could finally find his tongue, he said in a stunned tone, “But she’s a woman.”

  “Well, of course she is,” his grandmother said, as if that were no more surprising than the choir leading off with “Rock of Ages.”

  Richard suddenly had the disturbing sensation that Kiley, Virginia, had skipped the twentieth century and leaped straight into the twenty-first. He was shaken by the discovery that his perceptions of his old hometown were at odds with reality.

  More importantly, he was downright shocked to discover that he had been attracted—even for one devastating heartbeat—to a woman who was absolutely off limits to a man with his love ‘em and leave ‘em philosophy, the only kind of philosop
hy a man with his kind of wandering lifestyle could have.

  He took one long, lingering look at the woman preaching so sincerely about tolerance for sinners and vowed with some regret that that look would be his last.

  A preacher, for heaven’s sake! Obviously his well-honed antenna for trouble had been seriously on the blink in that orchard. Well, it was fully operational now and nothing—nothing—would get him within a hundred yards of this particular woman again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “So, Richard, what did you think of our new pastor?” Maisey asked when the service was over.

  She didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well, given Richard’s inability to form a coherent thought at the moment.

  “Isn’t she something?” Maisey enthused, as if she were doing public relations for a political candidate...or a prospective bride. “Anna Louise does know how to give a rousing sermon. Of course, there are some in town who don’t think a woman has any business leading a congregation, but she’ll win them over eventually.”

  “That explains why half the pews were empty,” Richard said, mostly to himself. He’d thought maybe it was because too many of the men were attracted to the preacher and had started worrying about those same lightning bolts that weighed on his mind. “Do they give her a hard time?”

  “Some do, but Anna Louise pays ‘em no mind. The girl has more gumption than a raccoon after picnic leavings. She’s known what she wanted since she was a little bitty thing. Grew up with a real sense of purpose, a calling, you might say.” She slanted a sly look at him. “A woman like that could make a man’s life mighty interesting, don’t you think?”

  Richard ignored the broad hint, but his opinion of Miss Anna Louise Perkins shifted dangerously toward approval again. Anyone who stood up to the small-minded folks of Kiley had his full support. Her career might make him jittery on several counts, but none had a thing to do with any judgments about women as preachers. As a matter of fact, he considered himself to be very liberated. He’d always believed women had a right to pursue any job their brains and strength enabled them to hold. He’d met some tough, courageous females in his travels, women he admired more than he could say. Some carried guns. Some carried notebooks or TV cameras. Some wore stethoscopes. All had been singlemindedly dedicated to what they were doing.

  To his deep regret, however, he had to concede that his personal plans for Anna Louise, formed in that orchard a few days ago, had suffered a serious setback. In fact, he could think of two very solid reasons for avoiding her like the water in some Third World country.

  First, she was bound to be the kind of woman who’d have certain expectations of a man. In her position as a preacher, already precarious because of her gender, she couldn’t afford to go around indulging in casual flings with a man who was just passing through town.

  Second, the last thing he needed in his life was some do-gooder who believed that people were decent and kind. He could cite any number of occasions in the past nine years when he’d seen proof of just the opposite. In fact, he had his own bylined newspaper clippings and the accompanying horrifying photographs to back it up. For purely intellectual purposes, maybe someday he’d ask Anna Louise how she explained a God who allowed those terrible things to happen. Given that quiet, serene aura she had about her, maybe that was something Anna Louise had never given any thought to, but Richard had. He hadn’t liked the answers he’d come up with.

  It seemed, however, that despite his resolve not even to think about the town’s newest preacher, his grandmother had other ideas. All the way back up the hill, Maisey continued to sing Anna Louise’s praises. In fact, Richard thought he knew more about the woman after that five-minute drive than he had about most of the women he’d dated since leaving Kiley. It kept him uncomfortably aware of her and of the instantaneous, heart-pounding attraction he’d felt when they met.

  According to Maisey, Anna Louise was twenty-nine. She’d been born in Tennessee. She had three older sisters and uncompromising, dedicated parents who’d been at the forefront of the fight for civil rights in the South. She’d been a miracle baby, born prematurely at barely three pounds. That early battle to live had turned her into a scrapper and taught her from her first days that miracles were possible.

  “Not a day went by that her parents didn’t thank God for the blessing of her survival,” Maisey concluded. “I have to admit I think we’re just as blessed that she decided to come here to Kiley. She was sent here just to fill in, but the majority of the congregation voted right off to keep her. To my way of thinking, it was God’s plan that sent her here and we had no right to object. Of course, there were those who disagreed so vehemently that they left. Good riddance, I say.”

  “I suppose,” Richard mumbled. Then to his grandmother’s obvious regret, he went off to change his clothes, rather than listen to more high praise of the most unavailable woman in Kiley, Virginia for a man with his particular designs on her.

  When he came back into the kitchen, his grandmother was frying chicken and boiling potatoes to mash. Green beans simmered with some bacon for seasoning. A cookie tray of homemade yeast rolls was ready for the oven. Richard sniffed the air appreciatively, then waved a finger under his grandmother’s nose.

  “Does your doctor know this is the sort of meal you fix?” he scolded. “I haven’t seen this much cholesterol in one place since you took me to that all-you-can-eat buffet in Charlottesville after my high school graduation.”

  She frowned at him. “This is the same Sunday dinner I’ve been eating my whole life,” she informed him.

  “Which could explain why you’re having problems with your heart.”

  “Fiddle-faddle. My heart’s just plain old. It doesn’t have a thing to do with what I eat for Sunday dinner.”

  He glanced at the table and saw that three places had been set with the best china. “Is your new boyfriend joining us?” he teased. “Now that you’ve shared a few kisses with the doc, are you hoping to reel him in with your cooking?”

  “Stop that nonsense, Richard Walton,” she said, smacking his hand as he reached for a chunk of apple coated with cinnamon and sugar. “And stay out of those. They’re for the cobbler. It’s Anna Louise’s favorite. Yours, too, as I recall.”

  His heart seemed to skid to a stop. “Anna Louise is coming for dinner?”

  “She’ll be here as soon as she finishes up at the church.”

  Richard saw his good intentions going up in smoke. Proximity with Anna Louise would not do a lot for his resolve.

  “I know what you’re up to,” he told Maisey, hoping to ward off any plans she might have of throwing him into daily contact with the preacher for whatever devious purpose she had in mind.

  “And what would that be?” she inquired innocently.

  He refused even to mention anything having to do with marriage. “It’s too late to try saving my wretched soul,” he said instead.

  “Maybe I’m more worried about my own,” his grandmother retorted, but there was an unmistakable and worrisome glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

  He made up his mind to flee while he could. “Bye,” he said, heading out the back door with one last look of regret at the meal he’d miss.

  “Where are you going? Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Fiddle-faddle,” she said emphatically, clearly unconvinced. She shot a penetrating look at him. “Running scared?”

  “Just running,” he said as he left the house for his own protection.

  Unfortunately, his grandmother had never been easily dissuaded from one of her schemes and Anna Louise apparently had the tracking skills of a hound dog. She found him down by Willow Creek. He’d discovered his old fishing pole in the barn, dug up a few worms and was contentedly resting against a tree with his line dangling in the creek. He hadn’t had a nibble in the past hour, but for the moment he was perfectly content to sit back in the shade and wait.

  “Catch anything?”

&n
bsp; The cheerful inquiry interrupted his pretense at dozing. He’d seen her coming and had hoped Anna Louise would take one look at his sleeping form and leave him in peace. Obviously she was no less easily dissuaded from a mission than Maisey. At the moment, he didn’t view that as an attribute.

  “Not yet,” he told her, shoving his hat back to slant a look up at her. She’d changed out of that prim little dress into linen slacks and a cool-looking blouse that bared her slender arms. He absolutely refused to check out how those slacks fit over her trim little behind. “Thought you’d be sitting down to fried chicken by now.”

  “Without you? That wouldn’t be polite.”

  “I told Maisey I wasn’t hungry.”

  Anna Louise looked skeptical. “Gee, it must have slipped her mind.”

  “Conveniently,” he said dryly. “One thing about Maisey, she has a very selective memory.”

  “I don’t suppose this sudden fascination with fishing had anything to do with my coming to dinner.”

  She didn’t seem especially troubled by the possibility. If anything, she looked fascinated. “Why would I let you chase me off?” he asked testily.

  “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say panic.”

  It was all Richard could do to keep from choking. “Why would I panic?”

  “Why, indeed?”

  His gaze narrowed. “You’re not hoping to get me to confess my sins, are you?”

  Her burst of laughter rippled through the summer air. “While I’m sure that would be interesting, I don’t have any need to drum up business. I’m in the habit of waiting for people to come to me when they want to talk about their transgressions.”

  “From what I hear, you’re the last person some people in town would come to,” he said, and watched as her expression clouded over. Whatever she might have told Maisey about ignoring the people who disapproved of her, their opinions clearly hurt.