Without comment, he went to the kitchen, and she went into the office. Nothing had changed as far as she could tell since the last time shed worked in here. The metal desk that had come from the old high school before they remodeled dominated the west-facing wall.
The computer with the seventeen-inch screen and wireless keyboard sat off center to the stack of spiral notebooks that she was laboriously working her way through. Over forty years of pastoring was compiled in those journals.
A priceless collection of a mans life.
Mara heard the clang of the cupboard closing, the clink of a cup being set on the counter-top.
Do you take cream or sugar? he asked from the kitchen.
Black, please, she called back, feeling awkward to have him waiting on her. How was she going to concentrate with him in the cottage?
She sat and tried to focus on the task in front of her. Going through the routine of turning on the computer, opening the top notebook and finding the place where shed last left off eased some of the tension that had settled on her shoulders the moment Jacob had answered the door.
The fine hairs on her arm tingled with awareness and the tension tightened in her shoulders again seconds before Jacob stepped into the confining office.
Here you go, he said as he set a cup of steaming coffee on the desk beside her.
Thanks. She opened the file on the desktop.
What are you working on?
He had a right to know. Im taking Pastor Anderss sermons and turning them into a book.
He arched a brow. He was that good?
Pastor Anders loved the Lord passionately. Yes, he was good.
I have a lot to live up to, then.
Was he being sarcastic? A quick glance showed her there was something in his expression, an uncertainty that tugged at her. Was he nervous about Sundays service? Ive transcribed more than half of his sermons. Youre welcome to look at them and use one as an example. Im sure he would have been honored.
I might do that. Though they do equip us young pastors with outlines in seminary, he teased.
She found it impossible not to return his disarming smile. Im sure they do. How long ago did you complete seminary?
His jaw tightened. Two weeks ago.
Oh. He was brand-new at this. She made a few clicks on the computer and then the printer hummed as it spit out paper. She grabbed the sheets and handed them to him. Here. Have a look at these.
Thanks. I wont be here very long, you know. A permanent pastor will be found soon.
A strange sense of disappointment shot through her. So you said. Im sure youll do fine while youre here. God wouldnt have brought you here without a purpose.
He backed up, an odd expression on his face. Ill let you get to work.
Mara sat there staring at the closed door for several seconds after he left. She shook her head, marveling that God would send such a young man to pastor their community. A man who obviously didnt want to be here.
Not her concern. She had enough on her plate without worrying about Pastor Jacob Durand.
She turned her mind to the work at hand. Just as she was getting into the words she was typing, a noise caught her attention and she froze.
The lyrical notes of the guitar washed over her. She closed her eyes and let the tune flow through her. She recognized the chords, could visualize the placement of her fingers on the keyboard in accompaniment.
He was very good on the guitar.
Rats! With much effort she pulled herself out of the music. How was she supposed to concentrate when he was playing the guitar so beautifully and everything inside her ached to harmonize to the music filling the air?
For an hour she battled to stay focused on the words her fingers were typing. Finally, silence reigned. Mara breathed a sigh of relief.
Then moments later, music from the CD player invaded the stillness. She recognized the tunes of a popular contemporary Christian rock group.
A smiled tugged at the corners of her mouth. They shared the same taste in music. This she could work to as background noise.
She lost herself in the work at her fingertips. When a loud knock on the door broke her concentration, she was startled to realize it was already noon.
The door popped open and Jacob stuck his head inside. Im making myself a ham-and-cheese sandwich. Would you like one?
Oh, no. Thank you. Thats not necessary. She deftly saved her work and shut down the computer.
Maybe not necessary. But you do schedule yourself a lunch, right?
Yes. Of course. She grimaced at the defensiveness in her tone. She doubted hed think a ten-minute lunch break would suffice. She wasnt expected at the Hilty house for another hour.
Usually, she spent the hour between commitments running errands for the church or replenishing her cleaning supplies. Today she didnt have any errands and she was all stocked up. The slight cramping in her stomach made her hesitate. The bagel and yogurt shed had for breakfast had filled her at the time. Now she was hungry.
Come on. His engaging grin made her pulse jump. Youve been working hard for the past three hours. You deserve a break. Let me make you a sandwich.
She consulted her schedule book as a means to stall. She didnt have a good excuse not to stay.
We need to discuss our arrangement, he said. Schedule time for you to show me around.
The coaxing tone in his voice prodded her to accept his invitation. After all she had agreed to his deal. Okay. But I can make my own sandwich.
Not in my kitchen, he stated, and walked away.
Slowly, Mara left the office, and for some reason resentment simmered low in her belly. This was Pastor Anderss home, not his. But Pastor Anders was gone. She had to accept that.
There are casseroles in the freezer, she said as she took a seat at the round kitchen table.
I saw that. He opened a jar of mayonnaise. Mayo?
Sure.
She liked the way his hands moved with fluid grace. Shed like to watch him play his guitar. She forced that thought away and made herself focus on assisting him instead. You can help yourself to the casseroles.
He slapped a pile of ham on the bread. Did the hospitality crew make them for Pastor Anders?
Hospitality crew?
Thats what my sister and I call the ladies in the congregation who are generous with their cooking. He glanced her way as he put the sandwiches onto plates.
Heat blossomed in her cheeks. No, the ladies of the church didnt make them. Though Im sure they would have been happy to.
You? he asked, extending a plate toward her.
She looked away and took the plate in front of her. The sandwich spilled over the sides with ham. Shed be stuffed for days.
Yes. Pastor Anders wasnt much of a cook, she said, hoping Pastor Durand didnt hear her stomach rumbling with hunger.
He opened the refrigerator. I have lemon-lime soda or bottled water.
Waters fine.
He came to the table with his plate and two bottles of cold water. You sure took good care of him. Were you related?
No. A pang of sadness crimped her heart. Though I would have liked to have had him as a grandfather.
He bit into his sandwich, chewed and swallowed. Grandfathers are pretty special.
No. A pang of sadness crimped her heart. Though I would have liked to have had him as a grandfather.
He bit into his sandwich, chewed and swallowed. Grandfathers are pretty special.
She picked up her sandwich. You speaking from experience?
He grinned, his whole expression lighting up. Yes. I admire my grandfather. Hes the pastor of The Shepherds Way Church in San Francisco. When Im done with my interim assignment here, Ill go on staff with him. The church has a congregation of over five thousand, with three services a week. Occasionally, his sermons are televised. He tilted his head back and took several long swigs of water.
From the pride and awe in his tone, Mara guessed Pastor Durand saw his grandfather as some kind of hero. Is he your maternal or paternal grandfather?
My moms dad. He took a long swig of water, nearly emptying the bottle.
Mara liked his strong jaw. Liked the angular line of his nose and chiseled cheekbones. He had nice thick hair, the color a walnut-brown that matched his puppy-dog eyes. Eyes that were watching her with interest.
She blinked and realized shed been staring.
Quickly turning her attention to her sandwich, she asked, What do your parents think of you following in your grandfathers footsteps?
My moms fine with it. As long as her children are happy, shes happy. My dad had hoped Id go into business with him. The high-tech industry doesnt float my boat.
The hint of tension in his tone piqued her curiosity.
In college I majored in business, but I really enjoyed the psychology and sociology classes more. I thought briefly about going into a profession that utilized those studies, but I really want to be like my grandfather. I want to reach the masses with Gods word.
Pastor Anders once said that change came by touching one heart at a time.
He lifted a challenging eyebrow. Big change can come from touching many hearts at once.
Mara shrugged, not sure she agreed, but what did she know? She was just a small-town girl with no experience in the world outside Hope. As long as hearts are being touched, I guess the venue doesnt matter.
But you dont believe it?
She supposed her look gave her away. Ive never been out of Hope, so frankly I dont know.
He gave her a thoughtful look. Tell me about your family, Mara.
An anxious flutter rippled through her. She sighed. You might as well hear it from me.
She wasnt sure what slant the gossip would take. Besides, shed learned that the truth kept people at a safe distance. As if somehow her familys scandal would rub off on them or something equally silly. Whatever the case, she needed to keep a safe distance from the all-too-attractive pastor. Emotional attachments only ended in pain. She didnt want any more pain.
My mothers dead, my father was arrested for her murder and then acquitted when her death was ruled an accident.
Im so sorry.
The sympathy in his light-chocolate-brown eyes scraped across her soul. She didnt deserve sympathy. She sought the comfort of her organizer. Nothing had changed since shed last checked it.
Wheres your father now?
Her shoulders slumped. Another death she was responsible for. More pain she had to live with. He died eight years ago from a heart attack.
He sat forward again, concern and compassion softening his expression, making her want to cry. Man, thats tough. Uncle Ben had said you had a sad story. I didnt image how sad.
Anger sliced a jagged path through her nerves, chasing way the weak tears. She knew the town pitied her. They shouldnt pity her, they should hate her.
With jerky movements, she flipped open her planner. Since I cleaned the cottage on Tuesday, I have a few hours available in the morning tomorrow that we could work on organizing you for Sundays service.
Skimming her finger over the pages, she continued, Friday afternoon has some free time. Saturday is pretty crammed, though.
She looked up to find him studying her. She resisted the urge to squirm. What would be good for you?
What about tonight?
She glanced at the note shed written herself for the evening. Four orders. And complicated ones at that. No, tonight wont work.
Do you always live your life so scheduled?
Cocking her head to one side, she stared at him with disapproval. You have a problem with organized people?
Organization is one thing, but chaining yourself to a schedule is another.
Tucking in her chin, she stated succinctly, It makes life easier.
What about spontaneity? Thats not something you can schedule, is it?
She pulled a face. I dont have time for spontaneity. Do you want to choose the time or do you want me to?
Jacob liked the kaleidoscope of greens, golds and browns swirling in her steady gaze. There was something about the stubborn jut of her chin that he found charming. She was so different from the city girls hed become used to. His ex-girlfriend Karen had been polished and sophisticated, requiring only the best in life. And his sister, well, her motto was image is everything. Needless to say she was normally impeccably done up at all times, even during her bad days.
Pencil me in for both days, he said.
Both? Her raised eyebrows were nearly hidden by her wild curls. You do realize Hope is a small community. It wont take too long to show you around town.
He could just bet shed drive down Main Street and call it good. I dont want the two-dollar tour. I want to meet the people. Get a pulse on the community.
Even though he wasnt going to be staying long, he wanted to do a good job while here.
Her nose twitched. You sound like a politician.
That would have pleased Karen to no end. Im just a man who loves God.
She smiled, drawing his attention to her mouth. She really had a nicely shaped mouth when it wasnt all tight or scrunched up. Her hair wasnt nearly as dark as hed first thought. The wild curls were more of a chestnut color.
Today she wore an oversize tan blouse, which she left untucked from her light khaki pants. An outfit his sister would gag over.
He suppressed a smile as he watched Mara block off time in her schedule book. He doubted she realized that shed hugged the book to her like a shield as she told him of her parents deaths. He wanted to believe shed dealt with the tragedies. Mostly because he didnt want to become emotionally involved with her when theyd be seeing so much of each other.
And because he knew she wouldnt appreciate him trying to help her.
But Jacob would appreciate her help. Do you have the name and numbers for the associate pastors?
She slanted him an odd look. There are no associate pastors.
Tension pulled at the muscles in his shoulders. Whos been filling in since Pastor Anders passed on?
She pushed a curl away from her forehead. We havent had services for the last few weeks.
What about when Pastor Anders went on vacation or was sick?
She looked at him as if he was a dense child. Pastor Anders never went on vacation. And he never was too sick to preach. Her expression turned sad. Except the last few weeks before he passed away.
How did he die?