Preacher's In-Name-Only Wife Read online

  “Sleeping.”

  “Don’t move.”

  He closed and locked the study door, then strode back to the desk, tearing at his clothes as he went.

  Amy slid off the desk and got a head start on her own clothes, her hands tangling with Dan’s as he reached out to help her. Desperate to feel his body against hers, she eased against him, stunned once more when he hauled her back up on the desk.

  “Have a care for the papers.”

  “Right now, I have a huge care for you. Only you.”

  Oh, he always said the right things. Made her feel treasured. Desired.

  His hands jerked at her hips, positioning her at the edge of the desk.

  A raw cry of delight rose from her throat. “Hurry,” she said, certain she’d die if she had to wait another moment. He was like a drug in her system, making her crave more. And more.

  She arched her hips and he drove into her in a powerful thrust. She gasped, her gaze locking onto his for endless moments.

  “More,” she said. And he gave her more, blood heating, flesh straining against flesh, breath ragged as she clawed to hold on, to ride the peak, losing the battle as he shifted, higher, harder.

  She cried out, the sound swallowed up as his mouth slammed against hers.

  She heard his moan, felt the violent tremors that shook his body as he, too, found release.

  Oh, dear heaven, what had this man done to her? She was completely, blindly, joyfully in love with him. A huge, huge problem, but there it was nonetheless.

  Her hands slid limply to his shoulders.

  “Cryin’ all night,” was all she could manage to say.

  He laughed, his body stirring anew inside her.

  Her eyes widened. “Again?”

  “And again.” This time, he carried her over to the sofa, laid her down and started all over again on a journey toward bliss.

  He’d never be able to prepare another sermon on that desk without thinking about Amy atop it, her skin flushed in ecstasy.

  For that matter, the memories would probably intrude on his delivery of said sermons.

  He was going to take a lot of teasing from his friends, he realized. Because they’d surely notice when he lost his place and got all flustered.

  The experience was well worth a little teasing and frustration.

  THE PROBLEM WITH sticking one’s head in the sand was that sooner or later, the laws of nature dictated that one had to come up for air.

  Dan took in a lungful and felt it whoosh out again.

  With the mail in his hands, shaking, he noted, his gut twisted as he stared at the third envelope.

  It was addressed to Amy Marshall, from a travel agent, with the National Geographic stamp in the corner.

  Airline tickets?

  Easter Sunday marked their three-month time limit. It was too late for her to drive back to Georgia. Would she fly directly to Africa from Montana? Would she leave her belongings here for the two months she’d be gone? Make him look at them day in and day out?

  Make him yearn?

  And would she return after the assignment? Return because she felt trapped? Obligated because of their intimacy?

  He had so many questions, and no easy answers.

  Dan realized his biggest mistake. Oh, he told himself his intentions were honorable, that he was operating out of love.

  But that genuine love could well have trapped Amy. Like a woman deliberately flushing her birth control pills to push marriage, had he made love to her to hold her?

  He counseled couples all the time. Why couldn’t he figure out his own life?

  The one thing he was sure of, though, was that Amy Marshall-Lucas was a beautiful bird who should fly free.

  She was excellent at her work. The images and emotions she captured on film simply took his breath away. Her talent was boundless. To hold her back wouldn’t be fair.

  Oh, she might adjust to life here for a while, but her kind of talent deserved to be set free. It’s what she’d wanted her entire life and he had no right to persuade her otherwise.

  He’d agreed to the terms of the marriage with no strings.

  But that was before he’d fallen in love with her. His wife.

  And before they’d been entrusted with a tiny baby. A baby that had brought them together like a true family.

  He wanted permanence…and he knew he could never ask for it.

  She should have her heart’s desire, see the world she so yearned to see, win that Pulitzer Prize she wanted so much.

  He wanted that for her, too.

  The problem was, he wanted to be the man standing by her side when she won it.

  AMY WORKED LIKE A DEMON, keeping herself so busy there was no time to think.

  She’d promised Jenny White Cloud she’d be out to join the weaving circle, be the first to thread a piece of yarn on the new loom.

  Ella Sheffield had another chemotherapy treatment scheduled for Wednesday. Amy had gotten in the habit of sitting with Ella, holding her hand when the horrible nausea ravaged her body.

  She had five hundred Easter eggs to color, baskets to prepare.

  Yet there was an airline ticket waiting for her on the dresser. Dan had brought it in with the mail.

  National Geographic hadn’t been willing to extend the deadline more than a couple of days. She’d checked. So, they’d mailed the travel arrangements and itinerary here.

  And since then, she and Dan had nearly reverted back to being roommates, uncomfortable silences stretching between them, walking on eggshells.

  Oh, she still slept in his bed, but he didn’t reach for her. She’d lie awake, heart pounding, confused, and he’d just slip his hand beneath hers, hold it tenderly, then finally slide into sleep.

  But Amy didn’t sleep. Couldn’t sleep.

  She shouldn’t be so torn about her decision. Dan didn’t give her any help, though, any clue that he might be willing to wait for her.

  And was that even fair? To expect him to approve of her breezing in and out of his life as she chased her dream? Going from one assignment to the next as the opportunity presented itself?

  A clean break would be best. To stay the course they’d both originally agreed on.

  She’d have to deal with the attorney business when the assignment was over in two months, or have Dan get the ball rolling himself.

  But how was she going to leave this child she’d come to love?

  The man she’d come to love?

  These people whose lives and well-being had come to mean so much to her?

  Why had God handed her her heart’s desire, only to dangle another in front of her, to make her choose?

  Chapter Fourteen

  For the first time in years, they changed the traditions for Easter Sunday in Shotgun Ridge, a direct result of Amy’s innovative ideas and Emily Bodine’s advertising enthusiasm.

  Sunrise service on the knoll of the original Shotgun Ridge had been a sight to behold. As the sun rose over the horizon in the east, Dan had indeed preached to the masses in his signature style, with plenty of laughter and creative license with the parables he told.

  Now, as they prepared for the second service of the morning, this time in the church, Amy stood by his side, holding Shayna, greeting their friends and neighbors.

  “My parents made it,” he murmured softly.

  Amy’s heart lurched. The four people walking toward them were easily recognizable. She’d seen photographs, but even without them, she would have known who they were. Dan’s parents, plus his oldest brother and wife.

  “Where’s David?” she asked.

  “He stayed in Missoula. Dad and Pip were able to get a visiting pastor to stand in for them.”

  So, he’d known they were coming. Odd that he hadn’t said anything to her.

  She was about to meet her in-laws for the first time.

  On the very day she’d be packing to leave.

  Oh, this was so awful. The ache in her soul was tremendous. The emptiness. A scream
was building inside her. She was afraid to let it out.

  Joyce Lucas enveloped her son in a warm hug, then treated Amy to the same, including the baby in the circle of her arms, laughing with a joy that mimicked Dan’s trademark chortle.

  “You’d be Amy, then. And this precious blessing, Shayna. I’m Joyce, the grinning hyena’s mother. Irreverent boy, but one just has to love him.”

  Yes, one did.

  “May I hold my granddaughter?” she asked, wiggling her fingers at Shayna, who obviously recognized a grandmother when she saw one, because she happily kicked her legs and nearly launched herself out of Amy’s arms.

  “Of course.” Reluctance to let go of the child was keen. She didn’t have many more hours to hold that warm little body next to her heart.

  “This is my dad, Phil Lucas,” Dan introduced. “And my brother, Pip, and his wife, Sally.”

  Phillip Jr. rolled his eyes. “Those beefy muscles are showy, but I can probably still take you.”

  “Here, now. There’ll be no brawling on the church steps. You boys behave,” Joyce said with a laugh.

  Amy knew who’d ruled their household. The boys dwarfed their tiny mother, but what she lacked in stature, she made up for in inner strength. It radiated from her.

  Phil Lucas stepped forward, started to hold out his hand. Amy bypassed it and gave him a hug, clinging for an extra moment. Her father had saved this man’s life, set in motion a life-altering course that Amy would have otherwise missed.

  Perhaps it would have been better all around if she had missed it. Her heart was breaking.

  “It’s nice to meet you, at last,” Phil said. “I’m sorry to hear about your father’s passing. He was a great man.”

  “Thank you.”

  She studied the family as they cooed over the baby, got reacquainted. Phil and Phillip looked like ministers in their tailored suits, white shirts and sedate ties. Tall and slim, there was an air of quiet reverence about them.

  Nothing at all like Dan’s bold presence.

  The family love was so evident. They took to Shayna as though she were blood.

  Having been an only child, a loner, Amy envied Dan growing up in a complete family, a father who was home for dinner each night, a mother who carried a quiet strength, worked alongside her husband, probably harder than he did. Shouldering and balancing the needs of her family with the needs of the community. She envied the siblings he’d fought with, played with, shared secrets with.

  Unexpected, John White Cloud’s words flashed in her mind. You are on a journey of discovery. Answers will not come in faraway places, but inside yourself.

  Inside her was love. Everlasting love.

  Dan put his hand on her shoulder, squeezed, looked down at her with an expression she couldn’t read. “Ready?”

  The one word seemed to foretell something much greater than the beginning of a church service. He hesitated, as though he intended to say something more, then sighed, looked around at the lawn set up for the second Easter-egg hunt that would take place later in the day, as though memorizing the terrain.

  Then he ushered her inside.

  Joyce didn’t look ready to turn loose of Shayna, so Amy let her be. She took a seat in the second row next to Ozzie Peyton, leaving the front pew on the opposite side free for Dan’s family since there was more room.

  Her mind was in such a dither, she barely heard the sermon Dan delivered. It was pretty much the same message he’d given at the sunrise service, but instead of his usual trademark laughter, he was more solemn.

  Shayna was a perfect angel, playing quietly in Joyce’s lap. The Lucases sat with pride on their faces as they listened to their son.

  Amy’s attention snapped back to the pulpit when Dan fell silent. Had he lost his place again? He had a tendency to do that, and she suspected it was her fault.

  “You’ve probably noticed that my folks are here today,” he said to the congregation, “and my brother Phillip and his wife.”

  His eyes twinkled for a moment. Amy knew it was taking everything inside him not to call his brother “Pip.”

  He lost the battle.

  “Pip’s agreed to step in, to take over for me while I take a bit of a sabbatical.”

  Murmurs rose like a swarm of locusts, buzzing, curious and confused. Amy glanced at Dan’s parents. They didn’t appear upset, merely watched their son with that gentle pride.

  Well, of course they would. Dan had told her that they never judged him, never showed disappointment. Whatever he chose to do, they were behind him one hundred percent.

  Well, she wasn’t going to be so easy on him. What was the matter with him anyway? Had he lost his mind? Didn’t he realize he was part of this town? Needed? He couldn’t walk away.

  He stepped out from behind the pulpit, walked down the steps, stopped in front of her. “Can we speak in private?”

  “Are you joking? What in the world is the matter with you?”

  “Well, now,” Ozzie murmured from beside her. “This ought to be interesting, you bet.”

  Amy and Dan glared at him.

  His blue eyes twinkled, but he held up his hands in surrender. “Butting out.”

  That’ll be the day. Ozzie heard the words in his head as clear as day. Vanessa. His heart melted and he answered in kind, silently. Are you watching, love?

  Turning back to Amy, Dan said, “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

  “Absolutely not. You gave up your right to privacy when you made that very public announcement. There’s a room full of confused people in here. You can’t just announce that you’re not going to be their preacher anymore and ride off into the sunset—or whatever it is you think you’re doing—”

  “Damn it, Amy. I want this to be a real marriage. Forever.”

  She was so astonished that he’d cursed in church, she shut her mouth. Then she looked at his mother.

  The woman was chuckling.

  Had the whole world gone mad?

  “Dan—”

  “No, listen. You had your chance to speak in private. You ought to know by now that I’m at my best when there’s an audience. And right now, it’s vital that I be at my best.”

  Her heart clicked and softened at his earnest voice.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Pip’s here because I asked him to come. There’s a missionary position open in Africa and I can fill in there for as long or short of a time as I want. We can go there, as a family. The three of us. Shayna and I will come with you. Follow you wherever your next assignment takes you. You can take your pictures, have your dream, but I want to be your true dream man. Your forever husband.”

  “Dan—”

  “I’m not through. You wanted a man who would travel with you. Instead, the man you’d pinned your hopes on let you down. Your grandfather let you down with his disappointment. I want to change all that.”

  He’d left out one person, she realized suddenly. Her father had let her down, too. It hit her like a bolt out of the blue.

  She was pursuing her goals for the wrong reasons, chasing the wrong dream.

  Being part of the upper-crust crowd back home, Amy had chafed against it, become somewhat of a rebel—just like her father.

  She’d thought she was paying tribute to her dad by choosing his career and flaunting convention by working in a gentleman’s club. Unconsciously, she’d been trying to gain her absent father’s approval, make him notice her…wherever he was. Even after death.

  But she realized that what she’d really been doing was trying to get away from judgmental people.

  In the beginning when this crazy will had turned her world upside down, she’d worried that being a preacher’s wife would thrust her right back into a life of more judgmental nonsense, having to keep up appearances, be someone she wasn’t.

  That wasn’t the case at all. Mainly because Dan was so normal. He didn’t fit any of her preconceived notions of what a minister should be like.

  And these people of Shotgun Rid
ge accepted her unconditionally. Oh, they discussed everybody else’s business, but it was more like family staying in touch with what their loved ones were going through.

  Family was what she’d been searching for.

  She realized that she’d spent a good part of her childhood at her grandparents’ house, because the stability had made her feel safe. Gramps had always been there for her. Unlike Dad, who had let his family down.

  The realization had her sucking in her breath. Oh, my gosh, why hadn’t she seen this before?

  Because she’d been too stubborn to look past a daughter’s defense of her father, too busy defending him to the town’s whispered censure—and to Gramps himself.

  Yet Gramps had known all along what she needed. Family and love. He’d taken a highly unorthodox way of pushing her, a great risk, but it had worked, better than she ever imagined.

  And now here was Dan.

  This wonderful man standing in front of her with his heart in his eyes, offering her the world.

  She didn’t want the world.

  She only wanted the man.

  And the baby.

  The sacrifice he offered touched her deeply. She’d seen how important he was to this community.

  “You’re not leaving, Dan. This is where you belong.”

  “Amy—”

  “No, you’ve had your say, now I’ll have mine. You give so much of yourself to others, put yourself last. Who’s there to console you when somebody dies, or a kid you’ve tried to help goes to jail? Who’s there to celebrate or encourage your dreams?”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips when he opened them to speak.

  “You love me, don’t you?”

  “More than the air I breathe.”

  She was going to weep. She knew it. She slid her hand over the lapel of his jacket, rested it against his heart.

  “I may not be the ideal of preacher’s-wife material, but you’ll just have to deal with it. Because just as this is where you belong, it’s where I belong, too. By your side.”

  “You are the ideal. Mine.”

  Happy tears spilled over her cheeks. Here, standing in front of her, was her true dream. No photograph or award could compete or compare.

  There was a room full of strong women in this town—both wives and career women. Not one of them had given up a part of themselves for love, or sacrificed who they needed to be—who they were best at being.