Rocky Point Promise

by Barbara McMahon

  “An altercation over a loan one made to the other. Their buddy tried to referee and got a bloody nose for his trouble. All have been booked and released. Let the court sort out the next stage. I saw you heading out with Janette after church. Did you two have lunch together?”

  “We did, along with Stan, Mollie, Peter, Seth and Dana from the singles group. I think I have everyone matched to faces. I’ll see them Wednesday. They said they hope you come again.”

  He studied her for a moment. “‘Bring Tate,’” he guessed.

  She laughed and nodded. “As if I could influence you in any way.”

  “If things are quiet, I’ll go again. Want me to pick you up?”

  She looked up at him. “Actually, if the weather’s nice, I’ll walk.”

  “If it rains, I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Well, I hope things stay quiet. I’d better get home before the little girls arrive.” She smiled again and began heading for home, wishing she could have said something that would have left him laughing. Or nodding in agreement. Or anything that would have kept them talking for longer.

  “Idiot,” she murmured to herself once she was out of Tate’s earshot. “He offered to pick you up—you should have jumped at the chance.” But she didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. She especially didn’t want Tate to get the wrong impression. She didn’t need an escort. She could manage her life just fine, despite her one mix-up with Allen.

  Of course, it would be nice to develop a close friendship with him. Could a man and woman just be friends? She thought back to some of her coworkers at the hospital. They’d been friends, going for coffee together, sharing what was going on in their lives. No romantic entanglements there.

  Still—she’d never felt that fluttery feeling around any of them that she did around Tate. And he still missed his wife. He was definitely not looking for involvement of a romantic nature. She had to remember that.

  Not that she was, either. Maybe one day. Perhaps with a nice man who already had children, someone who would stick by her through thick and thin.

  But it had been fun to do things with the sheriff on Saturday. Until her nice man came along, she and Tate could be friends.

  Tate watched Faith walk away. He’d come to church late, not knowing if he’d find the time. Sitting in the back, he’d seen her in front of him, sitting with Janette. His parents were back early, which had surprised him. Once the service ended, they found him. His mother had fussed a bit over the bandage. The Kincaids had joined them and all teased him about the injury. Zack even hinted that it had its good aspects because Tate had met Faith as a result.

  That sparked his mother’s interest big-time. She’d begun suggesting he begin dating again about a year ago. Nothing too overt, but she worried about his being alone, she said. He believed the real reason was that she wanted grandchildren. She’d questioned Zack about Faith, and when others chimed in, she had a certain gleam in her eyes. Tate knew better than to touch that topic.

  He returned to the patrol car. He and Mandy had talked about children, but had wanted to wait until they could afford to buy a house before starting a family. Now he had the house and no family in sight.

  Since his return home, he’d become involved with some of the youth activities at the church, notably the basketball games in the summer. And the picnics and cakewalks and even some swim parties. He liked children. Who would have suspected?

  As he pulled away from the curb, he wished he wasn’t working today. He wished he could have gone with Jenny and her friends to see the puppies. While they played with them, he could have spent more time with Faith.

  Nothing was going on around town, and he didn’t like the way his thoughts kept returning to the pretty nurse. He’d head into the office and catch up on paperwork. That was guaranteed to keep his mind fully occupied.

  “Thank You, God,” Tate said aloud when he woke Wednesday morning to a steady drizzle. It was a gray and dreary day, the next-to-last Wednesday before Labor Day weekend, and after that the town returned to normal. The summer inhabitants would be gone until next May.

  The rain gave him the excuse to pick up Faith for tonight’s singles meeting. He’d seen her briefly at the clinic Monday when he had his stitches taken out. Once at the meeting, they’d be surrounded by others, focused on the rummage sale, on Bible study and on general conversation. No time to talk one-on-one. Driving her to and from the meeting would give them a little time together.

  The day seemed to drag by. Once in the early afternoon, the sun peeked out. Tate tried to judge if the weather was turning, but was reassured some time later when the rain began again.

  He called the clinic to remind Faith that he’d be picking her up shortly before seven. She was busy, so he left the message with Marjorie.

  “I’ll make sure she gets it,” Marjorie said. “Nice of you to offer.”

  Did he hear a note of censure in her tone?

  “Yeah, well, I’m going, so no sense in taking two cars.”

  “Oh, right. Conservation of gas and all. Amazing how everyone wants to help the new girl.”

  “Being neighborly,” he said. He had heard something in her tone. What was that about?

  When he arrived at her apartment that evening, Faith was watching for him. Before he could stop the car, she hurried down the steps, her umbrella keeping the drizzle off her face. He opened his door but she called, “Don’t get wet, I can manage.” She opened the passenger door, closed the umbrella and settled in. “Whew, it’s not pouring, but it’s so misty I think the air is saturated and the umbrella doesn’t help a lot. Thanks for picking me up.”

  “Glad to do it.” He headed for the church. “How’re things going?”

  “Fine on all fronts. You?”

  “Quiet. We’re gearing up for the big Labor Day weekend flings, then things should settle down until next summer.”

  “Umm, that’s what Marjorie said. We’ve had a few tourists in with scrapes, cuts or bad sunburn. Most of the clinic’s patients, however, are locals. I’m discussing with Dr. Mallory the idea of starting an expectant mothers class—what to expect, how to prepare—especially for first-time mothers.”

  “We don’t already have something like that?” he asked.

  “No. Women who want to breast-feed have had to go to Monkesville for La Leche classes. I want to combine that with all the other aspects of pregnancy and delivery. Maybe even extend it to the first two or three months after a baby arrives. Lots of women have postpartum blues and don’t realize that’s normal. Anyway, that’s what I’ve been doing while you’re out keeping Rocky Point safe.”

  He laughed. “Not hard to do.”

  They parked near the entry to the fellowship hall and ran inside together. Their time for one-on-one was over for a couple of hours. Tate wished they could fast-forward the evening.

  The meeting flew by, Faith thought as she and Tate got into his car a couple of hours later. They’d updated everyone on their team’s rummage-sale donation pledges, spent time in small groups studying a portion of Second Timothy. Then just socialized with the cake and coffee some of the women had prepared.

  “I can’t believe how much stuff will be at the rummage sale,” she said, still amazed at the quantity of donations each team had promised to deliver.

  He drove down Main Street. “We’ll have the entire fellowship hall filled with tables piled high with items. Clothing in one area, appliances and other small items in another. Furniture and lawn tools are put around the perimeter. For two days, Friday and Saturday, it’s bedlam. Then cleaned up Saturday night so the hall can be used Sunday.”

  “Marylou was right—it’s a lot of work. It’s going to be fun, though.”

  “It is. My mother always works the sale. She says that, once a year, she knows she’l
l get to see everyone in town.”

  “So your parents are home,” she said. “I thought I might have seen them on Sunday. How did your mother take your bump on the head?”

  “Fussed just as I knew she would. I was counting on getting the stitches out before she saw. But they came home late Saturday evening.”

  When he reached her apartment, she gathered her things. “You don’t need to get out. I’ll dash up the steps and be inside in no time.”

  “I don’t mind.” Tate got out and opened the door for her. Then he followed her up the steps.

  She hesitated at the door. “Do you want to come in? To see the puppies? They’re really growing.”

  He hesitated a moment, then shook his head. “Not tonight. Maybe next time.”

  “Good night, Tate,” she said, feeling both relieved and disappointed that he hadn’t stayed.

  She waited until he left before taking Maggie out for one last visit to the grassy spot she favored. Back inside, Faith dried her hair, got into her pajamas and curled up with the Bible, reviewing the passage they’d studied that evening. “Lord, I feel Your presence here more than ever before. Am I in Your sights? Please, let me know what You expect from me so I can do Your will. Thanks for the new friends. I’m glad I came here. Amen.”

  But it was one friend whose face danced in her mind above all the others—Tate Johnson.

  Jenny Kincaid and her friends were becoming regular visitors at Faith’s apartment. The three girls loved the puppies and all had prevailed upon their parents to let them adopt one when the puppies were old enough. They spent their visits on the floor in the kitchen, tumbling around with the puppies, laughing and shrieking in delight. Through those frequent visits, Faith met each of the parents, and spent a lot of time with the girls. Names were discussed, puppies earmarked for each girl. She felt a bit sad to think that one day all the puppies would be gone, but at least they’d be nearby and Faith made each girl promise to let her see them from time to time.

  “You should consider obedience training,” she told them at their Thursday afternoon visit. “That way they’ll be nicely behaved and you can take them anywhere that allows dogs.”

  “How do we do that?” Melissa asked.

  “I’ll find out. I might take Maggie. She has nice manners, except for pulling on the leash. I want to make sure I also know how to be a good owner.”

  “We could all take training together,” Jenny said, bubbling over with excitement. “That way we could help each other and the dogs would know each other.”

  “That we could. I don’t know how old puppies have to be for obedience training. Maggie’s sure old enough,” Faith said, touched that the little girl wanted to spend time with her. She wasn’t used to children, but found these three easy to be with. Of course, most of their attention focused on the puppies.

  That evening Faith called Tate. If anyone in town knew about obedience-training classes, he would.

  He didn’t answer, so she left a brief message on his machine.

  Between patients the next morning, Marjorie came into the exam room Faith was straightening.

  “You got a call from the sheriff a while back. He said you called him. I know you’re making a play for the man, but the least you could do is keep your private life out of the clinic. Personal calls are not encouraged.”

  Faith stared at her in shock. “I’m not making a play for him,” she said, astonished that Marjorie would even think such a thing.

  “Oh, come on, you’re doing all you can to attract his attention. Hugging him right in front of everyone in the reception area. Now calling and leaving messages on his phone. You may have fooled some of the people in town, but not me,” she scoffed. “Tate Johnson’s one of the finest men around. He suffered a horrible loss when his wife died. If he were looking to get married again, I’m sure he has no need to take up with some stranger. There are a lot of nice girls who were born and raised right here in Rocky Point.”

  Faith couldn’t believe her ears. “Marjorie, you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. He’s been helpful in finding the owner of the dog.” And in introducing her around at the singles group. She knew better than Marjorie that Tate was not looking for involvement at this time.

  “I have eyes. Anyway, I’ve delivered the message.” With a frown, she turned and left the room.

  Faith shook her head in disbelief. Marjorie was definitely not in the new-friend category, but Faith couldn’t believe how nasty she sounded. And the way she spoke, Faith had no illusions about how she felt about Faith and Tate’s friendship. Was it a personal dislike, or was Marjorie equally distrustful of all newcomers to town?

  “Lord, help me here,” she prayed softly. “I don’t know how to get on Marjorie’s good side. Show me the way to get through to her.”

  She almost overlooked that Tate had returned her call. She hoped she hadn’t sounded like it was an emergency that he needed to call from work.

  Faith went home for lunch. After Maggie had a brief run, Faith called the sheriff’s office.

  “Hi,” Tate said when her call was put through.

  “Hi. I didn’t mean to make my message sound urgent,” she began.

  “It didn’t. Oh, because I called you at the clinic?”

  “Marjorie said we need to keep personal business separate,” she said, still stinging from the woman’s attitude.

  “As if Doc Mallory would care. Anyway, what’s up?”

  “I’m thinking of taking Maggie to an obedience-training class and wanted to know if there were any around. I thought you might know.”

  “Only one I’ve heard of is over in Monkesville.”

  “Umm. I suggested the girls might take the puppies when they get older. But that’s going to be hard if it’s clear over there.”

  “If everyone goes at once, one parent or another can drive.”

  “Right, three girls and three puppies all in one car?” She could imagine the bedlam that would produce.

  “Good point,” he said. “Find out if the trainer would come here if the class is big enough. Maybe there’re other people in town who would sign up.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “So aside from the no-no phone call, how’s your day going?”

  She was not going to bring up the difficulties she had with the receptionist. “Pretty good. How about yours?”

  “Same old, same old.”

  Conscious of the comments of the older woman that morning, Faith didn’t want to talk too long. She never wanted Tate to think she was making a play for him.

  “Well, thanks for the info. I’ll check it out and see what the trainer says. Hope the rest of your day is good.”

  She walked back through town to the clinic, noticing Rachel out in front of her antiques store sweeping the sidewalk. A glazier had replaced the broken window earlier in the week.

  “Hi, Rachel. I saw you were able to repair the damage quickly.”

  “Hi, Faith.” The storekeeper smiled warmly. “Yes, Tate made sure the man responsible forked over the money to fix it before he left jail. And with Tate’s father’s connections, he put me in touch with Mr. Abrams, who came right out. The sign painter’s coming next week and it’ll all look the way it used to. Tell him thanks for me, will you?”

  “You’ll probably see him before I do,” Faith said, taken aback.

  “I doubt it. If so, I’ll say it first. I’m still watching out for that table you want.”

  “Thanks.” Faith nodded and moved on, wondering if Marjorie was right and people thought she was trying to attract the attentions of the sheriff.

  She sure hoped that wasn’t the case, but she couldn’t get Marjorie’s insinuations out of her head for the rest of the afternoon.

  Stopp
ing at the grocery store on the way home from work, Faith recognized a couple of the other shoppers and greeted them by name. Mrs. Bradshaw was there and stopped beside Faith. “Tell the doctor that the latest medicines are working real well.” She flexed her fingers. “No pain at all. Finally.”

  Faith smiled. “I’ll do that. I’m glad that’s helping you.”

  Mrs. Bradshaw looked at the things in Faith’s cart. “A young man needs more than that. A nice pot roast would be wonderful. My Fred always liked pot roast.”

  “I have no young man,” Faith said, already knowing where this was going.

  “Well, if you want to keep it a secret, you shouldn’t be hugging him in front of everyone. I still say a pot roast will make him sit up and take notice.”

  Faith smiled, anxious to escape. “Thanks, Mrs. Bradshaw. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “The sheriff’s a good man, coming home to help his parents, saving that child the way he did. No one finer in town.”

  Faith nodded. “We’re just friends,” she said.

  Mrs. Bradshaw smiled broadly. “Well, of course. You two have a nice dinner.” She pushed her cart down the aisle while Faith wondered how she could correct the mistaken impression.

  Maybe ignoring it would work best.

  Once dinner was over and the dog walked, Faith picked up the mystery she’d been trying to finish for two weeks and stretched out on the sofa. The story wasn’t as compelling as it once had been. Her thoughts kept drifting to Tate, wondering what he was doing and if anyone had even hinted to him that there was something going on between them.

  She should go to the singles meeting next week on her own.

  But if he asked to accompany her, could she refuse?

  Tate pulled into his parents’ driveway Friday evening. His mother had invited him to dinner and he never passed up the chance to sample her cooking. He hadn’t spent much time with them since they returned from their trip and he wanted to hear all about it.