by Lynn Bulock
“What would happen if I followed them?” Greg watched the group disappear from view.
“You’d get a door slammed in your face at best. None of the ‘menfolk’ went up there. Apparently there’s some kind of conference call set up with a new private investigator that Bianca has found. Even Delia is being patched in from Hawaii.”
“Whoa. Serious stuff.” He wondered if Miranda had known about that when she went outside with him. Had she been willing to give up an important meeting with her sisters just to be with him? If so, he was in even deeper trouble than he thought.
“Extremely serious stuff. I hope to hear what they learn this evening. I know that Bianca is praying for concrete proof of her mother’s survival, and an idea of where Trudy might be. And the others are doing the same.” Winnie’s eyes held unshed tears.
“What do you think they’ll find?” Greg discovered he was holding his breath waiting for the answer.
“What I hope and pray for is that they’ll find Trudy alive and in as good a shape as is possible. Although I have no idea how well she might be after all those years in that place Bianca and Delia told me about. I try to convince myself that it’s possible someone might find Trudy and find her relatively well.” Her face softened into a small, hopeful smile. “After all, you’re always reminding us that with God all things are possible.”
“This is true. And tonight I need to be reminded of that myself. Thanks for providing the reminder.” Just hearing the words, he felt a little more comfortable. He’d been trying to second-guess God for a while now, wondering if Miranda could possibly be the “right” person for him, and deciding that might not be possible. God, however, might have a totally different idea.
“I’m more than happy to return even a little of the inspiration you’ve given to me.” Winnie patted his arm. “Now, how about we get away from this party a bit. I know you’re a history buff. Would you like the historical tour of the house? I’ll even tell you the truth behind all the gossip.”
“Winnie, you’re on. And if that tour might possibly end up on the second floor in about forty-five minutes, that wouldn’t be a bad thing either.”
She shook her head slightly. “I’ll say one thing for you, Pastor Greg. You’re determined.”
Greg felt like telling her she had no idea how determined he could be once he put his mind to it.
There weren’t a lot of secrets in the living room or dining room. The tour went through those quickly, skirting the groups of people surrounding Ronald in the living room and a small cluster of Blanchard Fabrics management types who’d taken up residence in the dining room. The kitchen held more interest for Winnie, and even more interesting was the cellar entrance near it.
Winnie unlocked the door to the cellar and flipped on a light switch on the cold stone wall. “Now watch your step going down here. The stairs are old and wooden, but they’re sturdy. If you have problems with cobwebs, we’ll forget this part of the house.”
“Cobwebs are okay. I’m not real keen on rodents, though.” It cost Greg something to admit that, but it would have been even harder if Winnie saw his reaction should a rat slink out of a corner.
“Me neither. As long as I live in this house, you can be assured there won’t be mice or rats inside the property.” She shuddered slightly. “I can’t argue with them outside, but in here is my territory.”
Reassured, Greg followed Winnie down the stairs to the cellar. It proved to be relatively well lit and very clean, though there was an air of dampness about it. “This close to the ocean, I’m surprised the water table allows for a basement,” he said, wondering how it was possible.
“We have a very good sump pump,” Winnie said. “There’s also another little secret.” Crossing the space to the far wall, she motioned to a doorway. The heavy oak door had several locks. “Through there is a secret passage. It leads down to a second level, so if water does rise to that level, it stays there.”
“Does the secret passage go anywhere?”
“Of course. It wouldn’t be worth the name otherwise, would it? It’s actually more of a room than a passage, but at the other end it connects to the caves that are down at beach level.”
“Caves?” Greg’s interest level rose. “Have you ever explored them?”
“Once years ago. I discovered that I liked bats even less than I liked mice, and I spent most of my time in the caves worrying that they might house thousands of the little creatures.”
“I can appreciate that. Do the caves have history connected to them?”
‘Naturally. There are still barrels and crates down there from when they were used by smugglers over two hundred years ago. And during Prohibition I’m told that gangsters from Boston used them as a way station for illegal alcohol.”
“Sounds like there would be plenty to explore, then. Do you think Miranda might be interested?”
Winnie laughed softly. “I thought this discussion might be headed in that direction. And actually, yes, it’s possible that she would like to explore the caves. Of course you would want to do some work mapping them out first yourself, or go to the Stoneley Historical society and see what they have there regarding the caves. I would insist on that, just to be sure the two of you would be safe.”
“Why? Are there dangers other than the occasional bat?” Maybe the caves were unstable. In that case he wouldn’t take Miranda down there.
“Not really dangers, just situations to be aware of. As I remember the lowest of the caves floods at high tide, so you wouldn’t be able to get in or out that way very safely. Otherwise, there’s not much I can think of that would be a problem.”
“Great. I don’t mind having an excuse to spend some time at the Historical Society.” Especially, Greg thought, when it might result in a way to patch things up with Miranda.
“Would you like to see the back staircase up to the second and third floors, and the more public parts of the second floor as well? I’d offer to show you my library, but I believe that’s where the girls are taking their conference call.”
“I would love to see as much of the house as you’ll show me,” Greg told her. “And I’ll make special note of your library for future reference.” Not all that far in the future, either. He planned to be directly outside that library door when Miranda came out.
When the door to Winnie’s library finally opened, Miranda and Bianca were the first ones out. Bianca had one arm around her sister and was talking in an animated fashion. “You just have to say something to him, Miranda. If he doesn’t respond with an apology, then you’ll know…” She trailed off when she saw Greg in the hallway.
“Well, Reverend Brown. Your timing couldn’t be more perfect.” She turned to Miranda and gave her a brief hug. “Okay, you’re on your own now. I need to rescue Leo before Father bores him to tears.” She gave Greg a smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes and left.
“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” Greg told her. “Your aunt gave me a tour of the house and I made her show me where her library was.”
“And you knew we were inside?” Miranda’s gaze challenged him.
“I did. And I decided that even if it took another hour of standing here and looking rather foolish, I’d wait for you to come out.” It gave him a lift to watch her small, shy smile.
“Lucky for you, our new private investigator is to the point.”
“Did he give you good news?” Greg didn’t see anything on Miranda’s face that would indicate more unhappiness since she’d gone upstairs.
“She was rather encouraging. Cat says she can trace Mama as far as her family beach house in California. Some of the evidence there indicates that she might have been there as late as early April.”
“That’s great, Miranda. If I packed a beach picnic and showed up on your doorstep tomorrow afternoon about one o’clock, would you tell me more? I promise I’ll guard my tongue so I don’t make any more blunders.”
Miranda stood there with a quizzical look while Greg prayed s
ilently that she would say yes.
“All right,” she finally said. “I imagine that a beach picnic is appropriate for friends.”
“More than appropriate. And I want to talk about developing our friendship into something deeper.” Greg knew his voice trembled a little over the last statement, but so be it. Where Miranda was concerned a little anxiety was worth it if it gave him a second chance.
TWELVE
“Stop pacing the hall, Miranda. You’re going to wear out the marble.” Bianca sat on the grand staircase in the front hall in fashionable jeans and a cotton T-shirt, grinning while she watched her sister complete another circuit of the entryway.
“Oh, dry up.” Miranda did stop pacing, but not to please her sister. “You have no idea how nervous I am.”
“Because of a picnic? Come on.”
“Because of who invited me on the picnic, and I said yes!” Her voice rose on the last word. Miranda knew it made her sound a little panicked, but that was the way she felt. “You were there right behind me. Why didn’t you stop me?”
“You’re a big girl. Nobody wrung an answer out of you. If you didn’t want to go on the picnic all you had to do was say no. Since you didn’t turn Greg down, he is probably right in believing that you want to see him again.”
“I do…I think,” Miranda admitted tersely. “But I have no idea what to say and I’m sure I’m going to make an even bigger fool of myself than I did last night.”
Bianca shook her head. “Judging from what you told us before we talked to Cat, I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Miranda gave up pacing altogether and came to sit down next to her sister. Bianca might be only a year younger, but she’d always been more worldly-wise. “You think I should have confronted him last night?”
Bianca tilted her head. “Yes, I do. And you also have to realize that hearing a man tell someone else that you’re ‘just a friend’ is a bit different from having him tell you that he just wants to be friends.”
Miranda tried not to moan. “Wasn’t that going to be the next step?”
“Not necessarily. Did you even give him a chance to explain himself?”
“No. I was so sure of what I was going to hear that I told him not to say anything else. Not too bright, huh?” She felt like burying her head in her hands and having a good cry.
“I don’t know about whether it was bright or not, but it was certainly a normal response.” Bianca put an arm around her and Miranda was conscious of the beautiful diamond ring on her sister’s left hand. Leo Santiago had extremely good taste in jewelry. “Do you want to pray about it? We could while we wait, you know.”
“Sure.” Miranda leaned her head down to touch Bianca’s. “Dear Lord, please help me. I don’t know what to say or do when Gregory comes for our picnic. I know he’s a good man, and that he loves You. Help me to see him as You see him, as a beloved child of God. In Jesus’ name we pray.” Her sister added little more, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.
“You really do care about him, don’t you?” Bianca said softly. “After seeing him last night, I can see why, and unless I’ve become a poorer judge of character than I used to be, I think the good pastor wants to be more than just friends with you, sis.”
Miranda felt her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, I hope so. But what do I do…” The ring of the front doorbell cut off her thoughts. When she crossed the expanse of tile to open the door, there stood Greg wearing a pale blue polo shirt, khakis, and carrying an elaborate picnic basket.
“Hi. I hope I’m not too late. I have to admit that I went to Gourmet to Go and picked up lunch. I didn’t want to inflict my cooking on you yet.” His boyish smile was so charming that Miranda found herself smiling back.
“No, you’re right on time,” she said, ushering him into the hallway. “Come in and say hi to my sister Bianca before she leaves.”
Bianca’s eyes glittered with delight as she greeted Greg. When she took off up the stairs after a few minutes, she got to the first landing and made a circled-finger “okay” sign and winked at Miranda, who felt like throwing a shoe at her. But then, she had to admit, Bianca’s gesture had relaxed her.
“So, do you have a favorite spot for picnics?” Greg asked, twenty minutes later when they made it to the beach.
“It varies, depending on the weather and the kind of mood I’m in. If I’m happy it’s usually down here on the beach where I can watch the sandpipers run around. Something about them makes me laugh.”
“And if you’re not as happy?” Greg asked casually, but he seemed to be paying a lot of attention to her answer.
“Then probably up on the bluff, either at the old swing where we were last night or at a bench a little farther down. The bench is one that Grandfather put there especially for Grandmother Ethel. It makes me feel a little melancholy to sit there, wondering what she was like.”
“Did she leave any journals or anything like that?”
Miranda shook her head. “Just a few photographs and a family Bible that Aunt Winnie keeps in her library. She had beautiful handwriting.”
“So, which spot is it to be today? I hope you’ll tell me that we stay on the beach.” A light breeze blew through Greg’s sandy-brown hair, picking out highlights of gold Miranda hadn’t noticed before. For someone who spent most of his time inside, he seemed to be in his element out here.
“Definitely the beach,” she told him. “That’s why I brought along a second bag. I keep an old blanket in it just for such occasions.”
“Great. I’ll let you pick the spot. You can probably find us the right place on a beautiful day like this.” They walked along for a little while as Miranda listened to the rush of waves and the cries of the seabirds.
“Right here,” she said, pointing. From the spot she chose they could see the entrance to the caves that led below the house. Putting down the basket, he helped her spread out the blanket. Down here on the shore with the breeze blowing, Miranda was glad she’d tied a cotton sweater around her waist when they set out. Her long chambray skirt and the T-shirt she wore had felt great when they set out from the house, but here it felt five to ten degrees cooler than it had been in the rose garden.
“So, what prompted you to ask me on a beach picnic?” Miranda asked Greg, half an hour later when they were finishing up the sandwiches he’d produced from his well-packed picnic basket.
“Several things. I didn’t want to ask you out in case you were having a difficult day.” The understanding in his eyes touched her heart.
“I appreciate that. I haven’t had as many of those difficult days lately. Some of that may be due to you.”
“Now why do you say that? There’ve been plenty of people who have helped you get to this point. I suspect your aunt has had more to do with your lack of difficult days than I might.”
“I think the thing I owe most to my aunt right now is that she introduced me to you.” Miranda hadn’t intended to say that, but somehow she couldn’t keep much from Greg. “Her faith has always been a good example for me, and I know she’s prayed for me every day for more than twenty years. So even in things like her ever-present matchmaking she has the best in mind.”
“She definitely seems to. I guess I should feel honored that she believes I’m worthy of you.”
From anyone else Miranda would have felt that she was being teased, but Greg’s expression was one of sincerity.
“I’m the one who ought to wonder about worthiness. I understand there must be a dozen reasons why being any more than just friends would be a bad idea,” Miranda said.
“Funny, right now I can’t think of any.” Greg took her hand and Miranda felt warmth course through her. The breeze might still be blowing but it didn’t bother her now. “I know I said that before, but it came out all wrong, Miranda. I wasn’t trying to push you away. It’s just that there’s so much about me you don’t know. So much nobody in Stoneley knows and I’ve been happy to keep things that way.”
“Gregory, I can’t
imagine that there’s anything about you that would be half as bad as some of the things the media has reported about the Blanchard family just in the time you’ve been at Unity. You’re just too kind and caring and honest for me to believe anything else.”
He looked down at the picnic blanket and Miranda wanted to reach out with her free hand and touch his face, bring his gaze back to hers. But somehow the gesture felt too intimate and she resisted the impulse. “Then you’d be surprised. But you have to believe me when I tell you that it’s nothing about you that has made me hold back from being anything but your friend. I’ve already seen the amount of pain the world has thrown at you in the last six months. You don’t need any more.”
“Doesn’t the Bible say that we’re not supposed to judge other people? I don’t think it’s fair to either of us for you to try to figure out what I can or can’t handle. I think you should leave the decision up to me.”
Greg’s brown eyes widened. “You know, that’s a very good point. I’ve been trying to protect you from several things when I should have just told you and let you decide where to go from there.”
“Or we could decide together. That seems fairest to me.” Was it her imagination, or did his grasp of her hand tighten?
“That sounds like a great idea. And if we’re trying to be fair here, would it be fair to ask you if it’s okay if I kiss you?” His hand was definitely tighter.
“Yes. It would be fair. And yes, I’d like it if you kissed me.” Miranda didn’t even close her eyes in anticipation. This time she wanted to savor every bit of Gregory’s kiss with all of her senses including sight. And this time it was very, very good.
She came to him with her eyes wide-open. Greg thought he’d never seen anything braver. He’d just told Miranda that he wasn’t the person up on a pedestal that she’d created and she didn’t seem to care. She met him right where he was, in the moment, and she did it without reservation. In that gesture he received the message that wiped away the doubt he’d felt before. He had been telling himself that surely the woman God had in mind for him as a life partner would be all the things a church expected a pastor’s wife to be. That way he’d erected a barrier that kept him holding Miranda—and anybody else he might have judged unworthy—at arm’s length.
