by Delia Latham
She giggled. “You are so spinning a tall one.”
“Not this time.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not even a little nervous about having Granny Hart’s quote up over your gate?”
Now she did laugh. “Not in the least. Even if the legend were true, it wouldn’t work on me. I’m not meant to fall in love—and certainly not to marry.”
2
David choked and coughed so he could breathe. “What? Why would you say that?”
She shrugged. “It’s true.”
So why did she sound so melancholy?
“How long are you visiting your uncle?” Her voice had a pleasant, husky undertone. David liked it. He hadn’t found anything not to like about this woman, and his reaction to her surprised and concerned him. In his profession, he couldn’t afford this kind of weakness.
Help me, Lord, I’m floundering…
He cleared his throat. “I’m not really visiting. I’m taking the assistant pastor’s position at a local church.”
“You’re—a minister!” Pia seemed surprised, but he couldn’t blame her. Most folks didn’t think of a pastor in jeans, tennis shoes, and an upside-down sports car.
“Guilty as charged.” He grinned, delighted when a lovely wave of color flooded her cheeks. “Can we still be friends?”
“Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I just meant—”
Laughing, David held up a hand. “I was only kidding.”
“W—which church?” Was that a tremble in the girl’s voice? Despite her impossible beauty, she seemed skittish, too quick to apologize. Could he help her?
His gut twisted. No. He couldn’t counsel Pia—or anyone else…not after what happened at his last post. Still, as a minister, he couldn’t help wondering what was going on in her mind.
As a man, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect her against the rest of the world.
David sucked in a sharp breath and sat up straight, setting off another storm of pain in his head. He hurried to answer her shaky question. “You know The Falls Tabernacle?”
Those almond eyes widened. “That’s where I—y-yes.”
Awkward.
“You didn’t know Pastor Blake is planning to retire?”
She nodded. “He told us several weeks ago. That’s why your name sounded so familiar. I knew you would be here soon, but I’ve missed a few services. My jewelry and design business often takes me to tradeshows out of town.” She pinched her bottom lip delicately between her teeth, her eyes fixed on the road. “I didn’t realize it was happening so fast.”
“Well, he’s not retiring right away. He wants to be sure I’m a good match for the church before he considers turning his flock over to me.”
Something in her deep sigh ripped at his heart, even as she turned her head to smile at him. “I’m sure you will be—a good match, I mean. Please forgive my clumsy lack of welcome. I’m really glad you’re here. Pastor needs to know it’s all right for him to leave things in someone else’s hands.”
“I hope I can make him feel that way very quickly.”
Pia slowed the car and turned through an open gate with huge letters emblazoned on a wood sign overhead. Heart’s Haven. She rounded a curve in the drive, and David enjoyed, as he always did, that first glimpse of his uncle’s huge old home.
“Pastor isn’t planning to move away, is he?” Pia pulled right to the front door via a graveled circle drive.
“I believe he and his wife are looking forward to a bit of traveling, but they’ll be coming back here between trips.” David sneaked another glance at the girl’s exquisite profile.
“I’d miss them terribly if they left for good.”
“Well, you needn’t worry about that just yet.”
Only when he opened the car door did David notice that the downpour had slowed to a drizzle. Pia popped the trunk from inside her vehicle, and he retrieved his luggage then bent through the open passenger door again. “Thanks for rescuing me, Pia Peretti.”
The returning up tilt of her lips lit his whole world, and he wanted nothing more than to climb back in and stay beside her forever.
“Any time, Pastor Myers.”
Talk about raining on his fanciful parade. “Just David. Please.”
She dipped her chin and offered him a polite smile. “Well, outside the church, perhaps.”
He stepped back, and Pia waved as she drove past the house and disappeared in the direction of the rental cottages.
Grinning through the sick pounding of his head, he hurried to the front door. He’d forgotten to tell his lovely chauffeur that he’d taken one of his uncle’s units.
He’d be her neighbor in Heart’s Haven.
****
Early the next afternoon, Pia parked beside her house. Other than the color, which varied by a shade or two on each unit, her little place looked exactly like the other seven in the complex, right down to the picket fence with the trellised arch over the gate. Instead of letting herself in through the side opening, which was the closest route to her door, she walked around to the front. Yesterday’s torrent of rainfall existed now as no more than a drizzle, so she took a moment to step back and study the sign attached to the topmost part of the trellis: May love find all who enter here.
Knowing the story behind the quote made her feel like an interloper. A woman with her shameful past had no business living in an environment intended for love.
She would never experience that kind of relationship.
With a sigh, she trudged up the walk and let herself into the house. She stowed her purse in the coat closet then headed straight for her studio.
In truth, “studio” was a rather grandiose definition of her workspace, which was nothing more than a workbench and a couple of barstools she’d crammed into the cubby intended for a washer and dryer. She didn’t mind the inconvenience of hauling her dirty clothes back and forth to the small laundry facility the complex boasted if it meant she could create a faux studio in her house.
She had always longed to take her original jewelry designs all the way from the first sketch to an actual, finished piece. Given the ever-increasing volume of business, she had her eyes open for a real studio in town—one large enough to accommodate all the tools she would need to make that dream a reality. For the moment, however, this closet-like space served her needs adequately.
A glance through the window revealed the sun peeking bravely around a cloud. The rain had stopped altogether, and she hurried outside, taking advantage of what might prove to be only a temporary reprieve in the wet weather. Several boxes of jewelry and supplies were in the trunk of her car. She’d need to check each piece for defects, package it in one of the small gift boxes embossed with her company logo, and insert her signature handwritten note card. Before long, time constraints would prohibit that personal touch, but she would provide it as long as possible.
Some of her belongings still remained unpacked inside the cottage. At some point, she needed to deal with them, but right now a few hours remained of her work day. Although she operated her business from home, Pia had learned long ago to adhere to a fairly rigid discipline. Certain hours of the day belonged to Jewels for the Kingdom, and she worked her craft during that time. No matter how tempted she might be to switch hats and play the role of homebody, she rarely allowed herself the luxury during work hours.
With her trunk empty and her small living room full, she poured a glass of sweet Texas tea and savored a long drink before diving into the stacked packing crates. She loved this part of her business. It felt like Christmas every time. With January rushing to an end, Valentine’s Day loomed closer and closer, yet when Pia dug into these pretty baubles, she could almost smell pine needles and gingerbread.
She picked up a small, gold gift box and ran a finger over the logo embossed on its cover. The primary initials of her business name—J and K—scrolled together in a dainty, elegant design Pia had created herself.
Each tiny container would hold some kind of tri
nket—a brooch, necklace, ring, bracelet, earrings, perhaps even a tie tack. Most of the items were her original designs. Other pieces had been prayerfully sought out and added to her overall product line. She proudly presented each of those “found” items right alongside her own, which her friend Susanna referred to as Peretti Originals. Pia had laughed it off at first, unable to believe the creative designs she so loved would ever have need of an official moniker. But as her work became more and more recognized within the industry, Peretti Originals was starting to have quite a nice ring.
God had instructed her to adorn His bride. Since working with precious and semi-precious stones was her passion, it only made sense that she should do what He asked by making “Spirit-filled jewelry” available to Christian women—and a few men, as well. Every piece in the Jewels for the Kingdom repertoire held some element of biblical importance, and had its own scriptural application.
She started removing tiny plastic packing bags from the first box, taking a moment of quiet pride in the first item she withdrew—a pendant like the one on a silver choker around her neck. Angel Wings, she’d called it, and laughed at herself for being fanciful. God had given her the inspiration for this design on the day she first came to look at Heart’s Haven, but so far, the perfect scriptural application had eluded her.
At the thought, she gasped, and her hand flew to the delicate wings resting against her skin.
A vision of her landlord’s handsome nephew filled her mind. That one recalcitrant strand of hair that kept falling into his face, despite the rain that tried to plaster it to his head. The fascinating cleft in his square chin, and those amazing, dual-colored eyes.
To say nothing of the heart-stopping white smile that fluttered her tummy and made her heart beat a double-time rhythm.
She shook her head, forcing thoughts of David Myers from her mind. She hadn’t seen him since she dropped him off at the big house yesterday afternoon, and that was as it should be. Now if she could only stop thinking about him.
But what he’d said about angels…it seemed somehow more relevant now.
David believed angels manifested themselves to certain people, and that his uncle conversed with them on a regular basis. Perhaps on some subconscious level, she had felt them on that first visit. She remembered the frenzied drawings she’d produced that evening, page after page of wings in various shapes, sizes, and perspectives.
She grabbed an ever-handy notebook and her Bible, and then sank into a chair to begin a prayerful search for the scripture that would accompany each Angel Wings pendant. A smile wreathed her face when she found what she was looking for, in the words of another, long-ago David. As she read, she “heard” them in the voice of David Myers.
Psalm 34:7—The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.
Resting close to her heart, the pendant radiated a subtle warmth against her skin. She closed her eyes and caught her breath. A soft whoosh of air moved around her. A gentle but unyielding pressure circled her arms and shoulders. Something too soft to be of this world brushed her cheek with infinite tenderness.
Tears streamed from her eyes as she nestled into what she suddenly knew without a single doubt was a hug from heaven. After a moment, another almost undetectable movement of air signaled the end of the heavenly caress. Pia sat for a while in silent gratitude before reluctantly rising to finish what she had started.
Within a couple of hours, all but a few of the bright gift boxes held her handwritten scripture and thank you. She’d left a few odd pieces spread across the workbench, a vague plan stirring in her imagination.
Her mind prodded at the events of the past couple of days, from the moment she’d picked up the three boxes of product from the post office. She’d been returning home from there when the new assistant pastor took a nosedive into the roadside gully while she watched in horror. Was it possible David Myers might have a deeper place in the unfolding story of her life than a person in need to whom she’d offered assistance?
But that was the fanciful thinking of a much younger Pia.
The grown-up version knew better. David had no place in her world, and neither did any other good man. Though she liked to think of herself as “forgiven,” the mental scars of past transgressions remained…a constant reminder of her unworthiness. She’d be well advised to let that aide-mémoire do its job, before she wound up heart over head in love with some nice man who wouldn’t dream of marrying a woman like her.
The doorbell rang, and Pia dropped the last piece of jewelry onto her worktable and hurried to answer it. She grinned when she opened the door to reveal one of the other Heart’s Haven tenants.
Zoe Wyndham’s blonde hair hung down her back in a long French braid. In a tie-dyed peasant top and pink jeans that belled below the knees, she seemed to have stepped right out of the past. But despite their seemingly different lives and fashion tastes, Pia and Zoe had become instant friends. They had a connection…something indefinable that created a strong bond. According to Zoe, they were “soul sisters,” and Pia found the term surprisingly appropriate.
“Zoe! Come in, if you can find a path through all these boxes.” Stepping back to allow her guest to enter, she laughed. “And before you ask, no, I still haven’t unpacked everything, and here I go bringing more clutter into the house.”
“That’s why I’m here.” The girl’s mesmerizing, cat-like eyes sparkled. She waved an arm at the boxes scattered around the room. “Where should I start?”
3
Exhausted and elated, Pia dropped onto the lone armchair and stared at her tidy surroundings. She grinned at the younger woman, who was sprawled over as much of the sofa as her petite frame could cover. “It would’ve taken me a month to get all this done.”
“You’re exaggerating.” Zoe didn’t twitch a muscle but slid a sideways glance across the room.
Pia giggled, and it startled her. How good it felt to snicker like a teenager! It had been too long since she’d enjoyed a conversation with another female, other than sales talk for her business.
“Well, maybe a little,” she admitted. “But it would have taken at least another week. I get so distracted with work, and I keep telling myself I’ll get to the housework stuff ‘tomorrow.’”
“Well, now it’s done.” Zoe sat up and surveyed the immaculate living room. “Looks downright homey, Miss Pia.”
“I think so too, Lady Zoe.” She stood and stretched. Her gaze fell on her workbench, and she smiled as one piece of the jewelry puzzle slid into place. “Hey, I have something for you.”
“You are not paying me for helping you.” Zoe’s eyes glittered a warning.
“I couldn’t afford to pay for what you did, girl.” She crossed the room and picked up the shiny gold box. “But I just realized why I couldn’t decide what to do with this. God wanted you to have it.”
Zoe’s full lips twisted to one side. “God wanted me to have it.”
Pia nodded. “He often leads me to give certain things to specific people. Sometimes I have an inkling why, but mostly I don’t. That’s OK though. I’m here to do His bidding, even when it doesn’t seem to make sense.”
“I like the way you think. So what is it that God wants me to have?” Zoe accepted her explanation more quickly than Pia had expected.
She pressed the little box into her friend’s hand. “See for yourself.”
Zoe withdrew a delicate silver chain from which dangled an unusual cross. The lacy, filigree design gave it a distinctly feminine feel, enhanced by flowing lines that made the cross appear to sway in a graceful slow dance.
“It’s called the Freedom Cross.”
Zoe examined the necklace in silence then lifted her gaze to stare off into the distance behind Pia, who suffered a twinge of doubt. Had she misread that little urge? She almost always got it right when she gave away jewelry based on the gentle nudge of the Spirit.
Finally her friend’s incredible eyes focused. Tears overflowed and streaked
down her cheeks in twin trails. “I love it! It’s perfect.” She drew Pia into a tight hug. “God keeps finding such amazing ways to confirm what I already think I know.”
“And may I ask what it is that you think you know?”
“God wants me to go on the mission field.” No hesitation, just candid statement of a fact. “I have nothing to tie me down, and yet I keep procrastinating. I’m not even sure what I’m waiting for.” She held the necklace out to Pia. “Will you help me put it on? It’s going to be my constant reminder to be ready when God says it’s time.”
As Pia fastened the chain around the girl’s slender neck, Zoe studied the remaining hodgepodge of jewelry pieces on the workbench. With the necklace secured, she stepped closer, and picked up a crown-shaped lapel pin. Cupping the sparkly, rhinestone-studded item in one hand, she touched it with the fingertips of the other and closed her eyes.
“Zoe?” Pia laid a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder.
The other girl’s eyes snapped open. “You’re not giving this away, are you? It’s yours.”
A wry chuckle escaped Pia’s throat. The Crown of Purity. “That one is definitely not mine.”
“Yes, it is.” Zoe took Pia’s hand and pressed the brooch into her palm. “You said God wanted me to have the necklace. Now I’m asking you to believe He wants you to keep this crown. It’s yours.”
An almost physical ache crimped Pia’s heart, and for a second, she couldn’t breathe. I only wish…
“Please,” Zoe pleaded. “Do it for me, until you know it for yourself.”
Pia managed to force soft laughter past the lump in her throat. “Sure, sweetie. I’ll keep it around.”
Maybe her friend wouldn’t notice that she made no promise to actually wear the pin.
A few minutes later, Zoe waved goodbye and zoomed out the door, seemingly unfazed by the past two and a half hours of steady labor and its emotional aftermath. Alone, Pia dropped onto a chair and moaned. That little free spirit was several years younger and could work circles around her. Her body felt as though she’d been the one in a recent car accident, instead of just a terrified witness.
