by JoAnn Durgin
Chase resisted a grin. “A Sawyer?” This woman was beginning to understand him. “Let’s just say there’s a special basket of fun items waiting for them in the honeymoon suite. So, yeah, I guess I pulled a Sawyer. Don’t worry. It’s nothing that would embarrass me in front of my youth group, but it might bring a blush to some of the older ladies’ cheeks.”
Chase brushed his hand over her cheek. “Kind of like the one I see right here.”
Heather visibly swallowed. “I don’t think I’ve blushed in years.”
“You’re a passionate woman, Heather. Whether or not you realize it, your emotions show on your face and in your body language.”
“You have a wonderful sense of humor and imagination hidden beneath that normally serious exterior, don’t you?” She turned aside.
“You mean my intensity?” Oh, man. He could smack himself for using that word.
Heather’s lips thinned and she turned back to face him. “Are you denying it?”
“Should I?” He met her gaze. “It’s who I am every bit as much as your drive to succeed is in your genetic code or whatever.”
“Genetic code?” She stared at him.
How had this conversation started? Wrong move, Chase.
“Is wanting to be the best I can be in my life and career wrong? Notice I didn’t say the best. I said the best I can be.”
“No. I’m not saying that at all.” Gathering his thoughts, Chase noted most everyone else had moved back inside the church except Allie. A few steps away, she gave them a silent nod before lifting the hem of her gown and making her way back up the stairs.
“I’m sorry if I offended you.” He lowered his voice. “That didn’t come out the way I meant. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want to lose touch with you after tonight.”
Heather gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You won’t lose me, Chase.” If that was the case, then why did her words ring hollow?
“I think you know what I mean.” Seized by an inexplicable sense of urgency, he fumbled for the right words. For a pastor who used a lot of words, he felt inept when so much seemed to be at stake when it came to this woman. Everything in him told him he shouldn’t pursue this—whatever this was—between them. All he knew was, he had to try.
“Let’s stop dancing around each other, Heather. See if this can work. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it, too.” He grabbed her hand. “There’s something between us. We’re good together. No matter how much you might tell yourself it can’t work…all I’m asking is that we give it a chance.”
He ran his free hand over his brow. “Laying it all out on the table here. I’ve already lived with more regrets in my life than I’d like, and I don’t want a missed opportunity with you to be one of them.”
“Chase, I—” He didn’t like the way Heather dropped her gaze and hesitated.
“Right.” He raked his fingers through his hair. The photos were all taken, so what did it matter if it got messed up now? “Forget I said anything. I thought you might be interested in exploring what I assumed was a mutual attraction between us. I guess I was wrong.”
His cell phone in his pocket buzzed. Bad timing.
“Chase, please listen to me.” This time Heather reached for his hand. “I think you’re one of the best men I’ve ever had the privilege to meet.” A puzzled expression crossed her face. “No pun intended considering you’re the Best Man.”
Her words sounded like the beginning of a classic kiss-off line if ever he’d heard one. He didn’t need this. This is why he didn’t pursue women.
This is why you’re alone.
His phone continued to buzz.
Her meaning was clear. Heather didn’t need him in her life. Fine. He could take a hint.
“I get it, Heather. No worries.” The one woman he’d hoped could meet the challenges of his life’s calling in ministry, and she seemed hesitant. Maybe she wasn’t the woman he’d thought, after all. Disappointment surged through him.
“How can you get it if you won’t even hear me out?”
“We’re from two different worlds. Why go down a path you’re not willing to see through to the end?”
Heather’s frown was deep as she slid one hand down to her hip. That was never a good sign with a woman. Now he’d made her mad. “You can be insufferable at times, can’t you?” she huffed. “Apparently I’m not the only one who makes assumptions. You seem to care an awful lot about money but that has absolutely nothing to do with it.”
His jaw tightened. “I can admit I make assumptions sometimes. For that, I apologize.” His phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Chase tamped down his aggravation. Hopefully it wasn’t Sawyer calling to tell him the pedicab had a flat tire and they needed to be rescued. Sawyer and Eric were more than capable of taking care of any situation.
He didn’t need to be anybody’s hero. Apparently Heather didn’t need him, either.
Get over your pity party and get moving already.
“You’d better answer your phone. We can talk another time.” Lifting the skirt of her gown, Heather turned to leave.
Chase put one hand on her arm to stop her. “Stay.” He tried to infuse as much feeling as he could into that single word without sounding desperate. “Unless you have somewhere else you need to be tonight, I’d like to talk with you a little more. I promise not to keep you long, but it’s important.” He dropped his hand.
Indecision danced over Heather’s lovely features but her eyes softened. “All right.”
“Thank you.” Pulling out his phone, he checked the display. Jamal Andrews. “Yeah, Jamal. What’s up?” He kept one eye on Heather. Thankfully, she waited on the steps.
“Hey, man. Trevon took his girl, Rachelle, to a motel. I tried to talk some sense into my little bro, but he’s not havin’ it.”
Chase hiked his sleeve and checked the time on his watch. Almost ten o’clock. “What time did they leave?”
“They took off from the house a few minutes ago.”
“Do you know where he took her?”
Jamal rattled off an address in one of the worst areas of the city, full of scummy bars frequented by the underbelly of Indy, a strip club or two, and seedy by-the-hour motels.
“I’m on my way, Jamal. Thanks for the call.”
“Just haul him home, man. I’ll take care of him from here.”
“I’ll try my best.” Pocketing his phone, Chase noted the concern etched in Heather’s expression. “Looks like we’ll have to talk another time. Sorry, but duty calls.”
“I think your heart calls. I take it one of your youth group kids is in trouble?”
“Not with the law—not yet, anyway—but he’s got his own ideas of what’s right and wrong. That was his older brother, one of the more solid kids in the group.”
Heather put her hand on his, surprising him by the force of attraction that raced through him by that slight touch. “Do you need my help?”
“No, I—” Chase tilted his head. “You’d really do that?” He hadn’t said a word about what happened and the fact that an underage girl was involved, and yet she’d offered to go along.
And that was the kind of woman he thought she was.
“Give me ten minutes to go change, assuming we can take the time,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
“Sounds good, but make it the back door of the church. This is a safe area of town, but why take any chances?” He placed one hand beneath her elbow and they walked up the stairs together and into the church vestibule. “Thanks, Heather. I owe you.”
“Glad I can help, and you owe me nothing. I’ll see you in ten.” With a swish of her gown, she departed—shoulders straight, graceful stride—leaving him to stare after her. He’d always been attracted to the kind of inner confidence she exuded. Smart and feisty, too.
Duty called. Time to haul a kid and his girlfriend out of a motel room. Fun times. He could grumble that the timing was bad to go after headstrong teenagers,
but that would be a waste of time. If he’d learned nothing else, he understood God’s timing was perfect in all things.
He strolled down the hallway toward the small room where he’d changed before the ceremony. Opening the door and hurrying inside, he was thankful none of the other guys were around. He wasn’t up to small talk.
As he tugged on his jeans and tucked in his shirt, Chase reflected on the day. He’d experienced the full gamut of emotions, more so than any day in recent history.
“God, I don’t know what will happen tonight, but you do. Please give me your grace.”
Shoving his feet into his tennis shoes, he crouched and quickly laced them. He tugged on his coat and grabbed the hanging bag with the tuxedo before recalling Allie’s instructions to leave the suit in the room. Even better. She’d promised to have them dry cleaned and returned to the rental shop. God bless her, the woman thought of everything.
Duffle bag in hand, Chase sprinted through the quiet, dark sanctuary to the back door. He stopped short when he found Heather already waiting for him—dressed to kill in jeans, short red jacket, and knee-length, black high-heeled boots. Stunning.
Seeing him, she grinned and lifted her shoulders. “The ballet’s taught me to be a quick-change artist. I can’t have patrons staring at an empty stage, can I?”
“No, I guess you can’t.”
What a woman.
Chapter 7
~~♥~~
Heather stole a glance at Chase. The muscles in his jaw flexed and his lips were set in a grim line. He’d stared out the front window of the Ford Explorer and not said a word since they’d left the church five minutes ago. She knew he was worried.
“Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”
He straightened in the seat and turned up the defrost setting. “A 15-year-old kid named Trevon—Jamal’s younger brother—took his girlfriend to a motel. I’ll warn you now that it’s in a bad area of town.”
“The Jamal whose painting is hanging on your office wall?” She’d noticed it when she’d gone to the church for her meeting with Chase. She knew a thing or two about evaluating artwork from her travels. Her mom had a keen interest in fine art and their home boasted a valuable collection from her travels all over the world. From what Heather could tell, Jamal had promising, untapped raw talent. She’d mentioned her observations to Chase. Although he’d acknowledged Jamal’s work seemed good, he admitted to knowing next to nothing about fine art.
“Yes, the same Jamal,” Chase said. “Trevon is on a different path. Nothing major, but he’s had a few brushes with the law and spent some time in juvenile detention. He hasn’t been to the church or youth group, but Jamal and I are trying to persuade him to come. I think Trevon would like hanging out with the kids if he’d give it a chance. His girlfriend, Rachelle, comes to the group regularly. She might be the key, but she’s also with him tonight.” Chase sighed. “Somewhere inside Trevon is a good person begging to come out. He has a very defensive, sometimes combative attitude, but it’s not exclusive to him.”
“You’re not going to manhandle Trevon, are you?”
Chase darted a glance her way and his frown deepened, not the response she’d expected. She’d hoped to lighten the mood a notch. Apparently, her question had the opposite effect.
“I feel like it, but no. In my line of work, I have to be careful. Throttling isn’t advisable.”
“Ah, you have to use your words, I assume. The sword of God and all that. Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to sound flippant. This is my first youth…intervention or whatever.”
Heather fell silent. Hopefully she’d prove an asset to him on this adventure and not a hindrance. She had no idea what kinds of situations Chase must face, or how often, but he was right about the need to be careful. How many times had she heard reports of youth pastors accused of all kinds of crimes, guilty or not?
From what she’d observed of Chase, integrity flowed from the man. Defined him. He was loyal and had a good heart. He might be tough, but he’d treat the kids in his group fairly and with kindness.
“Do you mind a little Third Day?” he said. “I think that’s the CD I’ve got in the player.”
“Sounds good. Fourth Day or Fifth Day is fine, too. And on the Seventh Day, we rest.”
He shot her an amused glance. When the first song began, she could tell from the lyrics it was a Christian band. They had a distinctive sound, the lead singer’s voice deep and rich.
Lost in thought, Heather rested her head against the seat and glanced out the side window. She’d never seen this section of Indy before, and that would appear to be a blessing. The area was rundown, the streets littered with trash, the buildings almost fully covered with spray painted words and graffiti. She contemplated closing her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away. In an odd way, she found it fascinating.
“I don’t know what most of these things mean,” she said, more to herself than Chase. What she did recognize were mostly vulgar profanities. Hard to believe people actually lived in this part of the city.
“What was that?” Chase turned right at the next corner. He seemed to know where he was going without the GPS. Matter of fact, he seemed familiar with this area. Surely he didn’t live here? The streets seemed eerily vacant and quiet, especially for a Saturday night.
“Heather? You said something?”
She cleared her throat. “I, um, said I’m getting an education. I feel like I did when I was…”
“When you were…?” he prompted.
“In Amsterdam when I was twelve. There was a seedy area of the city where women sat in what amounted to glass cages. They wore next to nothing and what they were doing was on full display for everyone to see.” She shuddered at the memory. “I’d never seen anything like it before. From the Anne Frank house in the morning, a world-class art museum in the afternoon, to…that. It was quite the day.”
“Sorry. There’s something to be said for staying innocent as long as possible.”
“It wasn’t a complaint as much as an observation,” she said.
“It’s a hurting world, and too many kids are forced to grow up way too fast. Sometimes all people really need is the reassurance that someone else cares. And hope, of course. Everyone needs that.”
“You don’t give up, do you?” That hadn’t come out right. “I mean, is there ever a moment of your day when you’re not thinking about a lesson for the kids, or trying to help someone else? I mean that in the best possible way, for the record.”
“Sure. I spend a lot of time thinking about what I’m going to eat or where to get the best price for gas.” When he stopped for the next red light, he reached for her hand. “Thanks for coming along tonight. I have no idea what to expect, but you need to be prepared for anything.”
“I know or I wouldn’t have agreed to come.” She wondered if he’d taken her hand to reassure himself or whether it was for her benefit. No matter. It did give her a small measure of comfort.
After giving her hand a quick squeeze, Chase turned his full attention back to the road as he pulled the SUV through the intersection. At least his vehicle looked fairly new and seemed in good working order. What would they do if it broke down in this section of town? Best not to let her thoughts go there.
Sinking down into her seat as their surroundings further deteriorated, Heather frowned. Why had she offered to help? Did she really want to help or was her underlying motivation to impress Chase? If she were honest, the answer would be a little of both in equal measure.
Lord, I’m here, so I hope you can use me for your purpose.
Chase steered the vehicle into the dimly lit parking lot of a one-story motel with about thirty units. A red neon Vacancy sign mounted on the exterior wall of the small office blinked sporadically.
“Sit tight.” Chase pulled to a stop in one of the more well-lit parking spots near the office.
“I’m coming with you.” After storing her purse as far under the front seat as pos
sible, Heather opened her door and slid to the ground.
Chase walked around the front of the Explorer. He reached around her and pushed the door closed. “You need to let me be a gentleman.” A hint of humor tinged his voice, an encouraging sign.
She resisted rolling her eyes. “Considering the circumstances, you don’t need to stand on ceremony.”
“You sure you’re ready for this? If you’ve changed your mind…”
Heather lifted her chin. “I wouldn’t have come here, especially to this area of town, only to chicken out now. We’re in this together.”
A flash of something—appreciation?—glimmered in his eyes. He tapped the bottom of her chin. “I think you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever known.”
“Any idea how you’re going to get their room number?” she said as they walked toward the office.
“Not a clue. I’ll figure out something.” Chase’s voice was low and he sounded tired. The night had grown much colder since they’d left the church, and his breath came out in little puffs.
Shivering, Heather ducked beneath his arm as he opened the glass door. Someone must have used it for target practice. A single, small round hole with jagged edges—from a bullet?—resided in the lower portion of the door. Spider web fissures jutted from the hole in all directions. An obnoxious buzzer sounded as they entered the small office. Muted sounds from a television floated into the reception area from a back room. Multi-colored Christmas lights, strung across the wall behind the desk, winked lazily at them.
A middle-aged, paunchy man ambled into the reception area. “Evenin’ folks. Need a room?” Putting the sandwich in his hand on the dirty counter, he pulled something out of a drawer. With a grin in her direction, the man placed a key in front of Chase. No fancy plastic entry cards here. Not even a computer, apparently.
“We don’t need a room. Just a room number,” Chase said.
“Huh?” The man rubbed his chin with a befuddled expression. “Buddy, you got a woman like this”—he gave her a once-over—“and that’s all you want?”
