Preacher's In-Name-Only Wife Read online

  And Lord, how he looked when he held that tiny baby girl in his massive arms, his smile gentle, his hat tipped low over his brow. Now if that wasn’t enough to stir a woman’s heart, then the woman in question simply didn’t possess one.

  Honestly.

  She rinsed bottles, loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. Opening the kitchen door, she stepped out on the porch with an open milk carton she’d used to save scraps in for the stray cat she’d been feeding, and nearly shrieked when she encountered a raccoon helping himself to the dish she’d set out for the cat.

  “Scat,” she admonished, and stamped her foot. “I’m not feeding you, too.” As though she had any control. She should have known stray cats weren’t the only varmints looking for a free meal. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

  A bushy gray cat with a torn ear jumped nimbly up on the porch, keeping his distance, tail swishing.

  “If I’m going to put myself out to feed you, the least you could do is show up for dinner and eat it before the rest of the animal kingdom gets wind and starts hanging around my door.” She dumped scraps into the metal bowl.

  “I don’t know why I’m doing this for you,” she muttered. “Every time I turn around these past three days, I’m feeding somebody who doesn’t even have the verbal skills to carry on a conversation with me. How do I even know if you like what I’m giving you? And why the hell am I talking to a cat, anyway?”

  Worried that she might hear a clap of thunder overhead because of uttering a cuss word on the steps of the rectory, she stepped back inside, gave a longing look at the open door of her dark room, then shut off the kitchen light and slipped into the bathroom to run a washcloth over her face—both to revive herself and to restore some order to her appearance.

  No telling if Shayna would wake from her catnap in Dan’s arms and it would be her turn again. No sense scaring the child with raccoon circles under her eyes. Maybe that’s what was the matter, the reason the baby cried so much. Her substitute mother was scaring the daylights out of her.

  When she walked back into the living room, Dan was adding logs to the fire, his hat resting on the end table, his boots lying next to the ottoman.

  “Where’s the baby?”

  “I put her to bed.”

  Amy sighed. “Just like that? Do you think she’ll stay down?”

  “She seemed pretty worn-out.”

  She flopped down on the couch and drew up her knees. “I’m not doing so great, am I?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “The poor thing wears herself out crying and I don’t have the skills to comfort her.”

  He set down the poker and sat next to her on the sofa, leather creaking under denim. “You’re doing great, Amy. And I appreciate it.”

  She nodded. Actually, she was overstating a bit. Shayna hadn’t cried all day. It just felt like it. There had been moments of joy in amongst the nerves, moments when the sweet child had smiled and cooed and curled trustingly into her chest.

  Not many of those moments, mind you, but they were there.

  She looked at Dan’s handsome face, firelight reflecting off the highlights in his hair.

  “What makes you do this?”

  “What?”

  “Marry a stranger without thought. Take in a baby without an argument.”

  “I did give the marriage some thought, and who was there to argue with about the child?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  He eased back against the couch. “After my wild days of youth, I got into a bit of trouble and finally decided I needed to settle down. My behavior was causing a lot of pressure on my family, though I’ve got to say, they never held it over my head, never threatened to kick me out or lectured me about keeping up appearances because of who my father was. That unconditional love and acceptance hit me one day, made me realize how lucky I was and what a screw-up I’d become.”

  She listened as he told her about going back to college, copping out when his buddies needed a designated driver.

  “I’d turned over a new leaf, was full of my own righteousness, judging their behavior. It didn’t matter that I’d been one of the biggest party hounds before. I stood rigidly by my newfound morals and told the guys I had an exam to study for.”

  He glanced away at the fire. “The call came into the dorm around 2:00 a.m. There’d been an alcohol-related accident. One person was dead at the scene, another critically injured. I could have prevented that tragedy, but I’d turned my back on my friends because I didn’t approve, because it didn’t go along with what I felt was right. I’d elevated myself above them, judged them.”

  “Oh, Dan.”

  “Chad’s spine was severed and the doctors said he’d never walk again. As I stood over his hospital bed, held his hand as he wept over the news of having to live the rest of his life in a wheelchair, I made a vow never again to turn my back on a person in need.”

  And because of that incident, that vow, he’d been unable—or unwilling—to deny her when she’d sought him out with her marriage proposal.

  At last, she understood the depth of the pressure he must have been feeling, knowing if he turned her down, she and her mother would lose their family home.

  Similar to the guilt he carried over his friend losing the use of his legs.

  And then there was the baby. He hadn’t turned his back on Shayna, because the child would end up in the system. Oh, sure, a family would adopt a baby in a snap, but there were no guarantees that the home would be stable, that the child would be safe.

  And because of the horrors he’d alluded to of what Lyssa had suffered as a child, safety would be a paramount issue.

  Lyssa had asked for his promise.

  He’d given it the moment he’d taken the baby from Ellen Parnelli’s arms.

  Chapter Nine

  Understanding him better now, Amy looked at him through new eyes. He was trustworthy. Capable. He should have been married to the love of his life and had a house full of contented kids.

  She didn’t let herself examine the little pang that jolted her when she subconsciously cast herself in the role of his soul mate, imagining the joys of helping him produce those happy kids.

  It was merely the image of seeing him with Shayna, she told herself. Those strong, loving hands holding a helpless child.

  “You’re good father material,” she said.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Frankly, I’m developing more respect for how Daniel felt when he was tossed to the lions.”

  She chuckled and patted his arm. She was getting used to him speaking in or relating to parables. “Shayna doesn’t have teeth yet.”

  “That you know of.”

  “True.” She let her gaze travel over his handsome face, his flat stomach where his shirt tucked into his belted jeans. The man was a prime catch.

  “You mentioned that most women are scared off by your vocation. Aside from the occasional date, have you ever been in a long-term relationship?”

  He shifted his head against the back of the couch, looked at her and grinned. “You want to know if I’ve had sex, don’t you?”

  “Would you stop that! Talk about me being obsessed by sex.”

  “Are you?”

  “You’re the one who keeps reading stuff into perfectly innocent questions. Honestly. If you don’t want to answer, then don’t.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind answering.” He straightened on the sofa, turned toward her. “I’ve a feeling you’ve still got me up on somewhat of a pedestal. I’m about to fall off it. My first sexual encounter was with an older woman. I was sixteen, she was twenty-three. I was…fairly grateful for the experience.”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or be scandalized. “Shame on her. You were jailbait. And a minister’s son!”

  “And a perfectly normal, hormone-crazed teenage boy. I went through a period of time where I didn’t practice a great deal of discretion.”

  “I see.”

  “Surpr
ise you?”

  “Not really. I guess I can imagine some of your antics after hearing about your drunken ride down Main Street on a borrowed tractor.”

  “Now, who told you about that?”

  She laughed at his mock outrage. “Cheyenne Bodine, I think. Or it might have been the doctor. I found myself in the middle of a bunch of your buddies the other day after church. They seemed happy enough to give me a bit of the down and dirty on you.”

  “Payback.”

  “For what?”

  “I sort of helped along a few rumors when several of them were dating their wives.”

  “You broke a confidence?”

  “No. The confidence wasn’t told to me. I got it secondhand, and nobody said it was a secret, so I helped spread the word about pending nuptials and such.”

  “Ah, aiding and abetting the matchmakers, were you?”

  “Something like that.”

  She curled her legs under her and turned on the couch to more fully face him, sinking comfortably into the soft leather.

  “So, what about your own love life?” she asked.

  “I fell in love once, when I first started my ministry. The relationship didn’t stand up to the demands my job put on my time. Glenda said I gave away a piece of myself to everyone else and there wasn’t enough left over for her.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how that feels. I got dumped for the same reason. I dated an insurance guy for two years, and I thought we were headed for marriage, convinced myself that if we exchanged rings he’d change his mind and come see the world with me. He conducted most of his work from a cell phone and laptop computer, so it wasn’t like he had any firm ties to the town or anything. Instead, he was boinking half the girls in the country club every time I took an out-of-town assignment with the newspaper, or got a lead on a photography gig.”

  “The guy must have been an idiot.”

  “Thank you.” She reached out and brushed his arm with her fingertips for aligning himself as an ally. “I caught him red-handed when I came home early one day, and the jerk blamed me because he couldn’t keep his pants zipped.”

  “You didn’t believe him, did you?”

  She shrugged. “It sticks in the back of my mind. I haven’t had a relationship since, haven’t put it to the test. I know where I want to go with my career. And Doyle showed me that my dream doesn’t mix with a happily-ever-after commitment.”

  “So, you don’t want that? Happily-ever-after?”

  “Someday, sure. I want my big break first.”

  “And you believe National Geographic will be that break?”

  “It could be. It’s hard to say. The events of the past months prove that none of us has any way of knowing what’s around the corner. But it’s what I want. And I believe I have the determination to stick to it until I make it.”

  “With that positive attitude, I’m sure you will.” He gave her hand a squeeze, got up and adjusted the screen in front of the fire. “I’m thinking it’s about time we went to bed. What do you say?”

  Her heart lurched into her throat. For pity’s sake, Amy. He didn’t mean go to bed together.

  She stood and took the hand he held out to her. Roommates, she reminded herself. Thrown together by circumstances neither of them had asked for or could control.

  MILDRED AND OPAL ARRIVED early the next morning.

  Amy was staring at the coffeepot, wishing it would hurry up and drip, thinking she’d be better off mainlining it straight into a vein. She was so tired she could curl up and sleep for a week.

  Good manners had her reluctantly tearing herself away from the dripping pot and going to greet the visitors Dan had already opened the door to.

  The ladies dropped their matching patent-leather pocketbooks, set down a covered casserole dish and launched into a race to see who could unbutton her wool coat the fastest and get her hands on the baby.

  Mildred won by cheating, leaving her coat hanging open and snatching the baby right out of Dan’s arms. “Oh, here’s the little lamb. Bless her heart. Isn’t she just precious, sister?”

  Opal folded her coat over a nearby chair and came to stand over Mildred’s shoulder. “Yes. So sad to lose a mother at this young age.”

  “Good morning to you, ladies,” Dan said dryly.

  Mildred and Opal barely gave him a glance. Amy grinned. In this town, when there was a baby around, adults might as well be invisible.

  “Y’all are out early,” Amy said, coming into the room.

  “Oh, love,” Opal said. “How are you holding up?”

  “By a thread,” she said with a laugh.

  Dan raised a brow. “I notice nobody thought to ask how I’m holding up.”

  Mildred laughed. “Just like a man. Hates to be left out.”

  “Sister,” Opal admonished. “Don’t insult the pastor in his own home. And stop hogging that child.”

  “Since I appear to be expendable, I’ve got some phone calls to make. Will you ladies excuse me?”

  Opal waved him off with a flick of her hand, cooing to the baby that Mildred had reluctantly relinquished into her arms.

  Amy grinned at his affronted expression. Actually, there was relief there, too. He was beat, had been up as many times during the night as she had.

  “I’ve got a pot of coffee brewing,” she said to him. “Do you want me to bring you a cup?”

  “I’m good for now. I had some earlier.”

  “Yeah, and thanks for leaving the pot empty.”

  “Sorry. I got sidetracked.”

  She smiled to let him know she was kidding. Since she couldn’t even find time to brush her hair half the time, she understood how a crying baby would preempt brewing a second pot of coffee.

  “How about you two,” she said to Mildred and Opal when Dan left to go into his study. “Will you join me in the kitchen for a shot of caffeine? I confess, I’m about to have a fit if I don’t get a little pep.”

  Mildred picked up the casserole dish and another plate Amy hadn’t noticed. “Can’t have folks having a fit in the middle of the living room. Sister and I brought scones. That’ll pep you right up. Eden Stratton makes them and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  “Bless you. I’m starving. Seems like all I do is feed babies and stray animals on the back porch, but I don’t have enough hands or time to feed myself.”

  “Well, we can’t have you wasting away to nothing. You’ll make yourself sick. You just sit right down,” Mildred said, bustling around the kitchen, “and let us do for you.”

  “I can—”

  “Hush now,” Opal said, easily setting out cups and arranging scones on a plate while Mildred poured coffee and put the casserole in the refrigerator. Awed, Amy watched the ladies take charge of the kitchen, miraculously restoring order, Opal never missing a beat even though she was holding the baby in one arm.

  Amazing. Amy needed two hands to accomplish things. Which was why nothing seemed to be getting accomplished.

  Feeling relieved that there were capable, grand-motherly types to run the show for a while, she took a much-needed sip of coffee and bit into a fluffy scone that melted in her mouth and made her close her eyes on a moan.

  “Told you they were fabulous, didn’t I?”

  “Better than fabulous. The woman’s a genius.”

  “That she is. Gave up her catering business in Texas and made her home here. Now, we’re reaping the rewards—and expanding our waistlines to boot.”

  “Eden gave up her business?”

  “Dreams have a way of changing. Love will do that.”

  Both Mildred and Opal gave Amy a quick, knowing look. Uh-oh. Were they part of the matchmaking circle she’d heard so much about?

  Mildred took the baby back from Opal and sat down at the kitchen table across from Amy, leaving Opal staring, obviously wondering how her sister had maneuvered the slick switch. With a huff, she sat down as well.

  “So, tell us,” Mildred said. “How is the new marriage work
ing out? Must put a bit of a crimp in things with the baby and all.”

  “You know it’s not that kind of a marriage,” Amy objected. The widows knew about the will, about the jeopardy of losing her mother’s home and the coveted job pending.

  “Don’t pay any mind to Mildred,” Opal said. “She’s gone all moon-eyed over the judge and her feeble brain’s stuck in a groove.”

  “Wouldn’t do your stodgy brain any harm to open up to a little romance. Henry Jenkins over at the Feed and Seed would be more than happy to talk you out of your panties if you’d get your nose out of the air long enough to take a good look.”

  “Honestly, Mildred. Mind your language. There’s a child present.” Opal patted her military-short gray hair, then sloshed coffee when she snatched up her cup. “Oh, now you’ve made me make a mess.”

  “You see what I put up with?” Mildred said to Amy. “Blames me for everything. I keep telling her if she’d have a little sex she’d get down off her high horse and feel better in the bargain.”

  Amy nearly spewed her coffee across the table.

  “Mildred! Really! Shush before Pastor Dan comes in and hears you speaking in such an unseemly manner.”

  Mildred grinned. “She’s such a prude.”

  Amy wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  Opal glared at Mildred, then attempted to change the subject. “What do you hear from your mother, dear?”

  “I’ve been so busy since we got Shayna that I haven’t called her.” And she felt guilty for that. Chandra wasn’t one to be on her own easily.

  “I’m sure she’ll understand when you explain it to her,” Mildred said. “You’re a wonderful daughter for sacrificing for your mother this way—not that marriage to Dan Lucas is a sacrifice, mind you. The man is a hunk.”

  “Yes, well…” Hmm.

  Dan came into the room and Amy’s gaze darted to his. Had he heard Mildred calling him a hunk?

  He winked at her, snagged a scone off the plate and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Always nice to know I’ve got neighbors in my corner expounding on my attributes.”