The Preacher's Daughter

by Lyn Cote

  She nodded.

  “I still like to think things over.” He clung to his right to be himself. “I don’t like rushing around half-cocked.”

  She nudged him. Her elbow touched his chest. Only thin cotton knit separated her skin from his. Her touch upped his awareness of her warm vibrancy so near, yet not to be touched. “I know you don’t. But sometimes you have to seize the moment—carpe diem.”

  “That’s seize the day.”

  “Same idea. Don’t be argumentative.”

  Her hair brushed just below his chin. He breathed in her scent full force. “Why didn’t you take a moment to ask me whether I wanted to host the families after Thursday night’s game?” He felt petty saying this, but it was the crux of his anger.

  “That was wrong of me.” She inched closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

  Her apology—so unexpected—took the wind out of his sails. “You admit it?” He would have inched away, but the rough wood railing already dug into his back.

  “I do.” She rested her hand lightly on his forearm.

  Her nearness went to his head—intoxicating. “Are you also sorry,” he asked archly, a disconcerting smile playing at one corner of his mouth, “about forming a Bible study and volunteering me to teach it?”

  “A little. Tanner—” she squeezed his arm “—sometimes things have to be done at the right moment. In both of these cases, I had to move while that special moment existed. And you shouldn’t be upset because I didn’t include you in the decision, because I had.”

  “You had?” What was she trying to put over him? “When? Did I sleep through a conversation with you?”

  “When you say something lame like that, it sounds as if you did.” She bumped her shoulder into his as though trying to shake him up. “You let me know almost at our first meeting that you wanted to bring the newcomers into this community and that you had been praying that God would help you accomplish this. Have I done anything that resulted in setting this goal—your main goal—back?”

  He hadn’t thought of that. “No.” He finally understood her reasoning. He didn’t like it, but he got it.

  “Did it ever occur to you that God may have brought me here to get the ball rolling and keep it rolling?”

  “Because I couldn’t?” he asked, feeling his feathers ruffling all over again. He didn’t like his reaction. It spoke of stubborn pride.

  She punched him again. “Ever read First Corinthians about the different parts of the body of Christ? Well, I’m the sassy part.”

  Her unaffected, completely honest words bowled him over. He couldn’t help himself, he laughed. “I don’t remember that part being listed.”

  “Well, St. Paul hadn’t met me personally.”

  “Oh?” He faced her in the moonlight. This woman is going to drive me crazy. “I’m sorry.” The words came easily, but he realized he meant it. She was right. He’d made his goal clear. And with a live-wire like Lucie that evidently was all that was necessary to get her started taking action. I’m sorry, Lord. Forgive me. Thank You for sending Lucie.

  A cicada shrieked higher, higher, distracting him. The corn in the nearby field was rustling, audibly growing. When he was new in town, he’d thought the farmer who’d told him he’d be able to hear corn grow was pulling the new city preacher’s leg. Now he recognized the sound. Harvest wouldn’t be late this year. The crops had gone in early. He would have to do something about Nate’s crops.

  The warm, enticing woman next to him leaned closer. “You need to have some faith in me and in God.”

  “I have faith in God—”

  “Sometimes you don’t act like it.”

  He fought the spurt of irritation this caused. “Don’t question my faith in God. I’m just a cautious person. And I guess I just don’t like being rushed.”

  “I’m the same way—”

  “What?” Lucie, you’re always in a rush.

  “I mean, I don’t like being told what to do, either. And I don’t mean to do that to you. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  “It’s just that when the way looks so clear to me and I sense the moment has come to act, I can’t hold back!”

  “The moment has come,” echoed in his mind. “I don’t want you to.”

  “Did I hear right?” She leaned close to his face, grinning that cheeky grin of hers.

  The moment has come. Tanner kissed her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucie held her breath, mesmerized by Tanner’s soft, persuasive lips and the prickle of new beard starting on his chin. Who had taught him to kiss like this? She let herself ease closer to him. Extending her arms until they rested on his shoulders, she crossed her wrists behind his neck. “Tanner,” she sighed against his mouth.

  She realized that she’d closed her eyes and she opened them. Tanner’s dark eyelashes fanned across his high, smooth cheekbones. He looked completely absorbed in the business of kissing her. She smiled and pulled her lips away.

  His eyes flew open. “Lucie?”

  She chuckled low in her throat. And began her own kiss.

  Warm air rushed past her lips as he groaned, tilting his chin downward and giving her the best angle. He kissed her as if it were the most natural thing to do—as if he’d been kissing her for years.

  Finally, she pulled her mouth from his and settled her cheek on his firm shoulder. “Well.”

  Dazed by his own initiative, Tanner cradled her, linking both arms around her. The night breeze played with her moist curls, causing them to tickle his chin. He hugged her closer, sinking his face into the fragrant curve between her shoulder and neck. “Well.”

  He didn’t need words now. He just needed Lucie in his arms.

  She turned her face up to his again and smiled at him.

  His heart melted at the warmth in her gaze.

  “So, here we are,” she whispered, “kissing on Sophie’s back porch.”

  To prove her right, he lifted her head with one hand and moved his lips over hers again. I’m kissing Lucie. And nothing has ever felt so right.

  His conscious mind wanted to barge in and make sense of the moment, but he stopped it—with another kiss. He wanted to go on kissing Lucie. On and on.

  She pulled away and laid her head on his shoulder again. “I didn’t even know I wanted you to kiss me. Is that crazy or what?” she murmured, her lips grazing the tender skin of his neck.

  He chuckled. “Had me fooled, too.”

  “I guess this is something we need to…” She groped for words in vain. “No need to rush, right?”

  “We have all the time in the world.” He said the words, but knew they weren’t factual. Lucie didn’t live in Pleasant Prairie, but he did. And they weren’t at all alike….

  He halted this line of thought. He didn’t want to let reality enter the moment, this wonderful spontaneous moment. After all, that’s what Lucie did best, right? Wonderful, spontaneous moments.

  He tugged her closer and she came freely just as he hoped she would, nestling close to him. Breathing in her fragrance, he kissed the top of her head, feeling her silken hair springing wet against his lips. Lord, tomorrow help me make sense of this. I didn’t expect this… But right now, just let me savor…kissing Lucie.

  Lucie couldn’t get last night out of her mind. Who knew stick-in-the-mud Tanner Bond—clerical collar and all—could kiss like that? Wow!

  August afternoon sun blazed down on Lucie’s cloth garden hat. She and her mother were picking the first of the corn and last of the green beans for supper. And tomatoes and green peppers for salad. Lucie glanced over her shoulder at the back porch, trying to make what had happened there last night feel real.

  “You planted an excellent garden, dear,” her mother said as she twisted tender young ears of corn off the six-foot-plus cornstalks.

  Lucie had insisted on doing the bending job of picking clean the bush green beans. “You mean I planted an excellent small farm.” Thinking of Tanner’s kisses brought a rosy warmth
to her face. She hid this from her mother by keeping her head down.

  Also wearing a hat, a wide-brimmed straw, Dorothy said, “Well, Sophie has become a true farmer’s wife, and her garden shows that.”

  What would Mom think of me kissing Tanner? “Sophie said Dad called yesterday. How’s he doing?”

  Dorothy chuckled. “He misses my cooking. Anna has been trying out new recipes on him and he’s had a bit more variety in his diet than he’s accustomed to. And he asked for advice on the fall children’s Sunday school materials. I would be ordering them if I were home.”

  “He depends on you a lot. Everyone does.” Lucie put into words what troubled her most about her mother’s life. This reminded her that kissing Tanner, a clergyman, was dangerous for her. “Doesn’t that bother you sometimes?”

  “Not really. After getting married and having children, I just got used to being depended on—”

  “But sometimes people take advantage of you.” Lucie shoved two handfuls of green beans into the garden basket on the ground beside her. While Lucie’s lips were on Tanner’s last night, where had her head been?

  “It may look like that, Lucie, but believe me, I know when to say no. I didn’t always understand that, but your father and I made a pact when we got married that our first job was loving each other and our children. Those were the first jobs that God had called us to. If we did them right, the church business would go only better.”

  Lucie mulled this over. Had Tanner ever thought about these priorities? Cicadas shrieked and brown grasshoppers bounced around her. As she recalled her childhood, she realized that what mother had said was true. That was until her teen years. Before then, she had always felt secure in her parents’ love. Why had that changed when she was in her teens? Had her rebellion pushed her parents away? After dealing with Zoë, this was a painful thought, too painful. She switched topics.

  “How’s Zoë doing?” Lucie lowered her voice.

  Dorothy gave a long sigh. “Poor child, she’s going to have to grow up a lot this year.”

  “Has she decided what to do about the baby?” At twenty-three, Lucie didn’t feel ready for motherhood. How would Zoë handle it?

  “Not yet.” Dorothy tossed ears of corn, one by one into the bushel by her feet—thump, thump. “We’ve discussed adoption and what she’ll face if she keeps the baby. It will be painful because Riel will be no help—”

  “He’ll still have to support the baby,” Lucie said with a pugnacious burst.

  “Sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie,” Dorothy replied. “He’s not the kind of person Zoë wants in her life or her baby’s.”

  “I wish she could have realized that before,” Lucie couldn’t stop herself from snapping. She’d at least tried to talk sense to Zoë.

  “She was terrified of losing her brother, of being left all alone. Riel sensed that and played on it for his own purposes. He—or really, his lies about loving her forever, and of just the two of them against the world—made her feel secure.”

  “But they were just lies. Why didn’t she see that? Why wouldn’t she listen?”

  “Unfortunately, that’s very common. When people are in the middle of crises and making bad decisions, they don’t listen. The fear or the anger speaks too loudly, overriding everything else.”

  Under her thin T-shirt, a bead of sweat trickled down Lucie’s bent back. She thought about the recent Bible lesson, about her father’s wisdom that staying close to God helped you make wiser decisions. One decision she’d made long ago was that she never wanted to be her mother, or more exactly, be a minister’s wife. Had that been a wise decision? It had seemed so, but was it really etched in stone? Could she change her mind? Tanner’s kiss rushed through her like hot summer wind, jarring her preconceptions loose.

  Had she decided to kiss Tanner Bond last night? Or had she merely allowed herself to be swept away on the thrill of Tanner’s kisses? Had that been a good decision? Did she and Tanner have a future, or had they just shared a kiss on Sophie’s back porch?

  Row by row, Lucie swished her hands over the low green bean plants, making sure she hadn’t missed any beans. She let herself concentrate on the mundane task, pushing away her inner conflict. Finally she said, “I’m just so glad that you came, Mom.”

  A pause.

  Lucie looked up. Dorothy was staring at her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Dorothy turned back to the cornstalks. “It’s just been a while since you’ve sounded so happy to see me.”

  That gave Lucie pause. She straightened, her garden basket in hand. “I’m sorry that you’ve thought I didn’t want you around. I’ve just been so busy getting through school—”

  “I think it’s time I said I’m sorry.” Dorothy didn’t turn around, but held to her picking. “I’ve regretted being so hard on you when you were in high school.”

  Lucie swallowed a lump that had come into her throat. Zoë’s rebellion was unpleasantly fresh in her mind. Had she ever acted like Nate’s sister? “I was— I was a bit of a rebel—”

  “Well, you were very different from your sisters, I’ll give you that.” Her mom’s tone was light, almost teasing. “They didn’t push against the limits I’d set like you did.”

  “I can’t help it. That’s my nature.” Lucie moved to the tomato plant and began twisting plump, ripe-red ones from the vines. A trace of her old feeling of rejection reared up. Lord, I want to leave this behind me. I love my mom. You know that!

  “I know and love you just the way you are, Lucie. It’s just that your teen years came at just the wrong time.”

  Lucie heard her mother dragging the bushel of corn to the end of the row. “What do you mean?” She tried to keep her tone from sounding accusing. “I didn’t have much control over turning thirteen.”

  Dorothy sighed. “Right when you wanted to wear ragged blue jeans to worship on Sunday morning and pierce your ears more than the usual, your father was having trouble with some of the board members at church.” Dorothy brought a handful of glossy green peppers and let them fall into another garden basket near Lucie. “I shouldn’t have internalized their criticism of your father and then taken it out on you. I was afraid they’d use your youthful rebellion as a weapon against him. It was a lack of faith on my part.”

  These words were a revelation. Lucie stood up. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”

  Her mother glanced up from the pepper plants, but kept picking. “I didn’t…your father didn’t…want you girls to be aware of the behind-the-scenes squabbling in the church leadership. He said it would be bad for you at your stage of Christian maturity.”

  “Why?” Lucie felt her heart being drawn upward. Finally, she understood what had gone so very wrong between her and her mom, whom she’d always loved but whom she’d felt separated from.

  “Because there will always be someone at church who causes trouble. That just comes with the job, especially at a large church where there are many successful people. Not everyone who attends church or sits on a church board is a consistent Christian. Some are just playing a part. Some have a long way to go toward being a mature Christian. So there are bumps in the road. That’s the best way I can explain it.”

  “I know that. Dad explained that to me.” Lucie recalled his telling her this more than once when she’d pointed out un-Christian behavior in a church member.

  Dorothy took a hanky from her pocket and wiped the perspiration—and maybe tears?—from her face. “Well, your father didn’t want you to have to deal with that when you were already restless under any authority. But unfortunately, I let their criticism get under my skin and our relationship suffered for it. Can you forgive me?”

  Stepping wide over garden rows, she hurried to her mother. She threw her arms around Dorothy and hugged her, her hat falling to the ground.

  Mom hugged her back. “Oh, Lucie, my sweet daughter.”

  Lucie felt her mother’s unconditional love for her seep deep inside, layer by la
yer, a healing warmth. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Don’t be sorry, dear. You were the child. I was the parent. I knew better, but I let worry cause trouble between us. The fault was mine, not yours. I’m just so glad that you called me to come when you needed me. That meant everything to me.”

  Lucie hugged her mother tighter. “I’m so glad I had you to call.”

  Sophie burst out of the back door. “Lucie! Lucie! Tanner’s on the phone for you!”

  At the sound of his name, Lucie’s heart lifted. Tanner!

  “It’s bad news!”

  After supper that night, Lucie pulled into the church parking lot and jumped out of the Bomb. Tanner was waiting for her behind the screen door of the parsonage. She hurried toward him. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I’m not thrilled, either.” Tanner’s hands were stuffed into his pockets. He pulled out one and opened the door for her.

  She walked into the air-conditioned room, wishing she could hug him. He looked like he needed a hug. “Everything we’ve worked for all summer—it can’t just be over.” When she thought of the kids from the trailer court and the friends they’d made in town, she felt like bursting into tears.

  “Ignacio called me when his daughter called him from work with the news. The layoffs will start in two weeks.”

  “It’s a done deal? The packing plant really has been sold to a conglomerate?” Now she needed a hug from Tanner.

  “Yes, at first, the employees thought this was good news, that they’d get more work—”

  “But?” Lucie cut in.

  “But it turns out the conglomerate just bought it for the equipment. They will start laying people off, several at a time, a week after Labor Day, and will have everything moved out before Thanksgiving.”

  Lucie groaned. “Maria and so many others came not just because of jobs, but for the schools here.”

  “I know. I just feel so…angry.” Tanner raked his hands through his hair.

  His tone made her examine him more closely. Tanner didn’t look like himself. He looked edgy and out of sorts. Remembering how many times in the past he’d put off supper, Lucie peered around the red-and-white kitchen where they stood. “Haven’t you eaten yet? Or did you just clean up?”