The Parson's Waiting

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The Parson's Waiting Page 12

by Sherryl Woods


  Tonight, though, in this place, the peace was real, the silence unbroken. His heart skipped a beat when he spotted Anna Louise greeting the arrivals on the steps of the church. Her cheeks were pink from the brisk night air and her eyes were bright with an excitement that stirred a matching sense of anticipation in him. A warm smile spread across her face at the sight of Maisey, then faded. Worry puckered her forehead.

  “Should you be out of bed?” she asked.

  “Exactly what I said,” Richard told her.

  “This is my favorite service of the year,” Maisey told them both, her chin set stubbornly. “Now you two stop pestering me and let me enjoy it.”

  Richard’s gaze caught Anna Louise’s. She grinned at him. “At least get her inside where it’s warm. There will be hot chocolate and cookies at my place afterward. Will you join us?”

  “Have you ever known me to miss a party?” Maisey retorted before Richard could get in a word. She tugged on his arm. “Let’s find a seat before they’re all taken.”

  Inside the church, pine boughs and red ribbon had been used to decorate the ends of the pews. Thick white candles burned at the front of the church, their soft glow creating an atmosphere of quiet serenity.

  They had been seated for no more than a couple of minutes when Mabel Hartley struck the first chords of “Joy to the World” on the piano. The choir led the congregation in the familiar carol. Maisey’s sweet soprano carried above the others. Even to Richard’s jaded ears, the sound was joyous. He listened for Anna Louise’s deeper, richer tones but couldn’t detect her voice amid all the others. He felt a sharp nudge from Maisey’s elbow.

  “Sing,” she muttered when he glanced down at her. She lifted her hymnal so he could see the words.

  At first he resisted, but his grandmother was watching him so hopefully that he finally began to mouth the once-familiar refrain. They went through the same thing with each carol. Richard stood stiff and silent, until Maisey poked him in the side. Then he at least formed the words, lip-synching along, regretting that he couldn’t recapture the feelings of wonder and anticipation that he had once felt as a boy on Christmas Eve.

  The talk of peace on earth, goodwill toward men seemed like an empty refrain to him.

  Slowly, though, the carols and passages of Scripture carried him back to another time in his life, a time when his parents had been alive and happy and anything had seemed possible. The hard knot in his chest began to ease.

  By the time the service ended with Anna Louise’s clear voice singing the opening notes of “Silent Night,” an unfamiliar sensation seemed to be creeping through him. He realized with a sense of amazement that what he was feeling was a rare moment of absolute contentment.

  * * *

  Anna Louise stood in the doorway to the kitchen, listening to the laughter of her congregation, watching the excited children slowly give in to exhaustion. These people had become her family over the past few years. They had welcomed her. At times they had tested and challenged her. On occasion they had frustrated and angered her. But always they had filled her heart with their basic generosity and kindness. The people of Kiley were good people. She wondered if she would be with them this time next year.

  “Why so sad?” Richard asked, coming up beside her.

  “Just thinking ahead.”

  “Afraid you’ll find only coal in your stocking tomorrow morning?”

  She met his laughing gaze. “You’re the one who ought to be worrying about that. You’re much naughtier than I am.”

  “We could change that.”

  Anna Louise sighed, the sound a mixture of longing and regret. “You know we can’t,” she said, her voice far too wistful.

  “Would the people of Kiley be appalled if I gave you a Christmas kiss? You are standing right here under the mistletoe, you know.”

  She thought of how she had imagined just such a kiss when she’d hung the mistletoe in the doorway. A carefree, innocent kiss. Fat chance. If Richard Walton kissed her, mistletoe or not, there would be nothing innocent about it. She knew from past experience the man would curl her toes. She’d be on her knees praying for forgiveness from now until next Easter.

  When she finally looked into Richard’s face again, she caught the amusement.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say you took the idea of that kiss and ran with it,” he taunted.

  “I was just weighing the benefits with the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  “Eternal damnation.”

  “For a kiss?”

  “For what you and I both know would likely come after,” she said with blunt candor.

  “Why, Miss Anna Louise, I can control my baser instincts, if you can.”

  His playful mood charmed her, dared her to take chances. “Maybe that’s the problem. A man like you is pure temptation to a woman like me.”

  His expression sobered for an instant. “And I have no business teasing you the way I do, do I?”

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Want me to stop?”

  Her gaze clashed with his and her breath caught in her throat at the hint of desire she saw in his eyes. Because she couldn’t manage even a single word, she mutely shook her head. She would not, could not, deny herself this one instant of feeling outrageously desirable.

  She felt his fingers against her cheek, just a whisper of a touch that sent longing swirling through her.

  “Merry Christmas, Anna Louise,” he said softly.

  “Merry Christmas, Richard.”

  With that, the sweetest temptation she had ever known walked out the door, his grandmother right behind him.

  * * *

  The memory of that brief, tender moment stayed with Anna Louise all night long. Sometime toward dawn she recognized that what she was feeling toward Richard Walton wasn’t just some yearning to help him. It wasn’t a professional desire to save his jaded soul. No, what she was feeling was much more personal. She was falling in love with him.

  Over the past months she had looked beneath that hard, cynical surface and found the man who cared so deeply that the agony in other parts of the world had irreparably hurt him. Watching him with Maisey, she had caught glimpses of the warmth and generosity he tried so hard to pretend didn’t exist. And she sensed that untapped within him was an unlimited capacity to love, if only someone was willing to work hard enough to cut through the barriers he’d erected.

  The discovery that she wanted desperately to be that person left her trembling with anticipation and terror. She knew instinctively that he wouldn’t thank her for her efforts. He’d convinced himself that he wanted quick and easy relationships. She represented trouble. Richard would figure complications and commitment went hand-in-hand with any sort of relationship with her.

  Of course, that worked both ways. A man determined to avoid commitment, a man dead set against putting down roots, was not exactly a good bet for a church pastor. Anna Louise guessed that the realization she’d come to overnight about the depth of her feelings pretty much guaranteed trouble on her horizon, as well. What would happen when Richard eventually left on another assignment? How would she be able to bear the loneliness? How could she stand the worry Maisey must have endured all these years?

  Because she wanted a clear head she walked, instead of driving, up the hill to Maisey’s for Christmas dinner. Her teeth were chattering and she was chilled to the bone by the time she reached the house. The smoke curling from the chimney promised coziness, but it was the image of Richard waiting inside that warmed her before she ever set foot across the threshold.

  “Come in, come in,” Maisey called, holding the door wide. “I think we’ll have more snow before the day’s out, don’t you?”

  “It feels that way,” Anna Louise agreed.

  “Did you walk all this way? Richard could have come to get you.”

  “No, I wanted the exercise and fresh air.”

  Maisey gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, dear. Let’s get you in
by the fire, so you can warm up before dinner.”

  “Let me help.”

  “Nonsense. The turkey’s almost done. The pie’s already out of the oven. All that’s left is mashing the potatoes. It won’t take me a minute to do that.”

  Anna Louise drew in a deep breath. “It smells wonderful.”

  “It’s even nicer in the parlor. Richard cut a fresh tree for me day before yesterday. Come along and see.”

  With an odd mix of reluctance and anticipation, Anna Louise followed Maisey into the living room expecting to find Richard. He was nowhere in sight.

  Apparently Maisey caught her disappointment. “He’s gone for a walk. He said he needed the cold air to blow away the cobwebs.”

  Anna Louise wondered if that was a euphemism for the same troubling thoughts that had pestered her all night long and had sent her crunching over the icy road to Maisey’s on foot. Served him right for taunting her the night before.

  When he finally did turn up, the familiar spark of amusement was still in his eyes, along with that challenging glint that made her pulse race.

  “It’s about time,” Maisey scolded him. “We have presents to open and you know I have no patience.” She reached for a large package under the tree and handed it to Anna Louise. “I thought it would be nice with your coloring.”

  Anna Louise’s fingers trembled under the intensity of Richard’s gaze as she tried to undo the ribbons on the box. Finally, she just ripped the wrappings away with unladylike enthusiasm.

  Inside she found a shawl knit of the softest wool she’d ever touched. “Maisey, did you make this?” she said, holding the pale peach material up to her cheek.

  “My mother did. I’ve been saving it all these years for somebody special. I want you to have it.”

  Anna Louise felt the salty sting of tears. “Oh, Maisey, you are so sweet. My gift for you isn’t nearly this wonderful.”

  “Your friendship is gift enough for me,” Maisey assured her, but her expression was as excited as a child’s when she opened the small box Anna Louise handed her. She folded open the tissue paper and found a framed photo of Richard that Anna Louise had taken on the day they had worked on the recreation hall. It had been shot in a rare instant when his chiseled features were softened by a smile.

  “It’s perfect,” Maisey enthused. “Darling, you look downright handsome. I’ll put this right up here on the mantel.”

  “You took that?” Richard said, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

  Anna Louise nodded.

  “Caught me when I wasn’t looking, I see.” He grinned at her. “Did you keep a copy for your bedside?”

  Anna Louise blushed furiously because she’d been sorely tempted to do just that. “I did not!”

  “Remind me to have a look later.”

  “Richard Walton, the odds of you getting anywhere near my bedroom are between slim and none.”

  Maisey laughed with obvious delight at the bantering.

  “Having the two of you here,” Maisey said softly, “it’s the best Christmas in a very long time.”

  Anna Louise glanced over at Richard, taking in the sight of him looking so relaxed and carefree for the first time since she’d known him. If only it could always be like this, she thought.

  If only...

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  An odd sense of contentment, begun in the church on Christmas Eve, stayed with Richard through Christmas dinner. Maisey, while still fragile, seemed happier than ever. Having Anna Louise around guaranteed that there would be laughter.

  He patted his pocket, feeling the gift he’d tucked away there with the intention of giving it to Anna Louise when they had a moment alone. He hadn’t been able to resist the sterling silver combs he’d seen in an antique shop one afternoon. The moment he’d spotted them, he’d envisioned them holding back the fiery strands of her untamable red hair.

  There was no doubt the opportunity for giving them to her would arise. Maisey would see to that. If there was one thing in life he could count on, it was his grandmother’s matchmaking. At times it still astonished him that she seemed to see nothing odd about pairing a renegade like him with Anna Louise. She actually seemed to think he was good enough for a parson.

  Obviously his grandmother couldn’t see into his wicked heart and detect the desire that had lodged there from the first time he’d ever set eyes on Anna Louise. Or maybe Maisey was even better than he was at putting spin on a story. Maybe she was calling it love.

  Whatever, he thought with a small measure of guilt. He’d suddenly decided to snatch whatever time he could with Anna Louise, storing up the peace and calm she inspired in him for the troubled days that no doubt lay in his future once he went back to reporting. He would take that from her, but not her innocence. He’d made himself a solemn promise about that. She might hurt when he left. There might be no way around that. But he would see to it she would not suffer from guilt and regrets.

  “Another piece of pumpkin pie?” Maisey suggested.

  “Not for me,” Anna Louise replied. “I feel as if I ate that entire turkey all by myself.”

  “You couldn’t have,” Richard countered. “I ate most of it.”

  “That must explain why all I had was that piddly little wing,” Maisey teased. “If you don’t want any more dessert, how about more coffee?”

  “No. I really should be getting home,” Anna Louise said. “I want to call my family before it gets to be too late. My parents should be back from my sister’s by now. Everyone was planning to spend the holiday with her in Memphis so they could see the new baby.”

  Richard watched her closely and thought he detected a trace of wistfulness in her expression. “Are you feeling homesick?”

  “Maybe just a little,” she admitted with a sigh. “I wonder if I’ll ever get used to not being at home for the holidays.”

  “But, dear,” Maisey said gently, “you are home.”

  Anna Louise suddenly smiled as if she’d just been given another gift. “Yes, I am, aren’t I? Thank you for reminding me of that.”

  “Are you sure you need to leave?” Maisey asked, her expression radiating disappointment.

  “Yes. I want to make that call and you need to get some rest. I know how much effort goes into preparing a meal like the one we had.”

  “Hey, what makes you think I wasn’t responsible for the turkey and stuffing?” Richard demanded.

  “Maisey’s described your pitiful cooking skills to me.”

  “All lies.”

  “I’ve seen the evidence for myself. Remember that entire loaf of bread you burned trying to make toast?”

  He laughed. “Shh. You weren’t supposed to tell Maisey about that.”

  Maisey chuckled. “Did you honestly think I couldn’t smell all that burning bread? I worried we’d never get the smell out of the house, to say nothing of whether you’d remember where I keep the fire extinguisher.”

  Richard feigned a scowl at the pair of them. “And here I was about to volunteer to walk Anna Louise home.” He glanced across the room and saw the color rise in Anna Louise’s cheeks at the suggestion.

  “Really, it’s not necessary,” she protested.

  “Yes, it is,” Maisey insisted. “You can argue with Richard, but you shouldn’t upset an old lady.”

  “Maisey, you’re not old,” Anna Louise said. “You’re going to outlive all of us.”

  “I just hope I’ll be around long enough to see my grandson happily married and maybe my first great-grandbaby.” She shot a pointed look straight at Richard. “There’s not a lot of time to waste, young man.”

  He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Some things just can’t be rushed.”

  “Rushed? You’re slower than molasses.”

  Richard looked at Anna Louise. “I think we’d better get out of here before she calls Orville Patterson over to perform the ceremony.”

  Outside, he tucked Anna Louise’s arm through his. “Don’t let Maisey’s teasing bother you
.”

  “I’m not the one she’s pestering to get married.”

  “That’s what you think,” he retorted.

  They took their time walking over the packed snow, partly because the footing was treacherous and partly to draw the time out. The moon showed them the way. Richard glanced up the side of the mountain and saw half a dozen kids with their sleds racing down the slope, their excited shouts carrying on the night air. He glanced at Anna Louise and saw that she’d seen them, as well.

  “I dare you,” he teased.

  Her gaze flew up to his. “You’ve got to be kidding. I haven’t been sledding in years.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “But you’re a daredevil. I’m not.”

  “That gleam in your eyes says otherwise.”

  “We don’t have sleds.”

  “Oh, I think we can talk those kids into loaning us two for one run down the hill.” He grinned at the temptation that was written plainly all over her face. “You game?”

  Her thoughtful gaze remained pinned on the laughing children for another minute, then she grinned. “Let’s go for it.”

  At the top of the hill, Richard spoke to the two youngest Hall boys and borrowed their sleds.

  “Are you really going to race him, Pastor Perkins?” sixteen-year-old Jason Hall asked, his eyes wide.

  Anna Louise looked startled. “Who said anything about a race?”

  Richard trained his most innocent expression on her. “Afraid of a little competition?”

  “No, I’m afraid of breaking my neck,” she said as she settled herself cautiously on the sled.

  Richard shot a conspiratorial look at the gathered kids and gave her sled a gentle nudge.

  “Why you rotten...” she shouted as the sled began its rapid descent.

  “Tsk-tsk, Pastor Perkins,” he called out as he hopped on his own sled and sent it racing down the slope after her.

  “How do you steer the blasted thing?” she shouted with a note of alarm in her voice.

  Richard suffered a moment’s absolute panic at the thought that she really might not know what she was doing. An image of her slamming into a tree flashed through his head with sickening clarity. Dear Heaven, what had he done?

 

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