Terri Reed - A Time of Hope

When he’d pulled her into the ice-cream parlor, for a second he thought she was going to keel over.

“It’s not even lunchtime yet!” she exclaimed when he offered to buy her a sundae.

He shrugged and ate his hot-fudge-and-caramel sundae with gusto.

At the drugstore he shot the breeze with the pharmacist for a few minutes while Mara sat impatiently in a chair.

As they left the drugstore, Mara glanced at her watch.

“Relax. It’s okay if we don’t make it all the way down the street. I’ll come back later.”

She stopped and glared at him. “Why am I here with you? You’re perfectly capable of doing this on your own.”

With that she headed back the way they’d come toward his car. For someone with short legs, she could sure move. With a grin he followed along. “Hey, wait up.”

She stopped, her tennis shoe tapping on the sidewalk.

He caught up. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s just that you’re like this big unpredictable kid, and I don’t have time for it.”

He grinned. “I promise I’ll be good.”

She eyed him warily. And he gave her a coaxing look that his sister and mother could never resist.

Her mouth scrunched up. “Don’t think you can manipulate me with your good looks and those puppy-dog eyes.”

He didn’t think she’d meant to compliment him, but his ego puffed up a bit anyway. “I like you. You don’t let anything get past you. How about while I drive you back to the cottage, you tell me about Hope?”

“Why? You’re only here temporarily,” she shot back.

“True.” He’d give her points for boldness. “But while I’m here, I should give my all, right?”

She blinked, clearly flustered. “Right. Fine.”

She started moving again. Only this time she adjusted her stride and went at a more reasonable pace. “Hope started out as a single fruit stand. Two local farmers decided to cash in on the new road leading to the lake by selling some of their goods. The stand became so popular, they added a restaurant.”

She pointed down the street to a lone log-cabin-style building set back a ways from the road just past the town proper. A big sign in the shape of a pie read Katie’s. “Best eating place around.”

“How long has it been there?” he asked.

“Since the late eighteen hundreds. The Wenatchee Valley is the undisputed heart of apple country in the state of Washington. Over Labor Day weekend the whole valley holds a big harvest bash, called Family Farm Fest. The local apple, peach and pear growers set up stands at the fairgrounds.

“There are pie-baking competitions, pie-eating competitions, pie-throwing competitions. One year Lars Henderson ate so many pies he had to be rolled out on a stretcher. The whole valley turns out for the event, as well as some tourists who drive over from Seattle or Spokane.”

“Ooh. I love pie. All kinds.” But he wouldn’t be here to taste any.

“We’re big on festivals. In fact, the Apple Blossom Festival is in a few weeks.”

“Will there be pie?”

She laughed. “Of course.”

“Good. My mouth is watering already.”

“Let’s see. What else would you be interested in? We have one school that used to go all the way to twelfth grade but about nine years ago the town council decided to build a regular high school. That created some more jobs, which we needed.”

They reached his SUV and he opened the door for her. Mara slid in, liking his gentlemanly manners. She hadn’t had much opportunity to be around men. Her father had barely talked to her most of the time after her mother’s death and Pastor Anders…well, she opened doors for him, not the other way around. Her housekeeping clients were courteous. She couldn’t fault anyone’s treatment of her.

But somehow Pastor Durand made her feel…she didn’t know how to define how he made her feel. Younger, freer.

And it wasn’t just her that he treated well. He’d been warm and friendly with everyone. People opened up to him in ways she’d never seen anyone do with Pastor Anders. Maybe it was the age difference.

Or maybe that Pastor Durand exuded such a fun and carefree presence that made him likable and easy to talk to. He asked questions and listened with attention to the answers. Just as he was listening to her ramble on about the town of Hope.

“Here we are,” he said, as he pulled his car next her old Jeep. He got out and came around to open her door. “Thank you, Mara. I do appreciate you taking time to help me get acquainted with the town.”

She clutched her organizer and climbed out. She didn’t feel she’d helped at all. “You’re welcome, Pastor Durand.”

“Jacob,” he reminded her gently.

Her throat tightened. He’d said she had a pure heart. He wouldn’t say that if he knew the truth. Not comfortable using his given name, she ducked her head.

“So, we still on for Friday?” he asked, relieving the tension.

“I have you penciled in,” she answered, and climbed inside her Jeep.

He moved closer, looped an arm over the top of her open car door and the other arm on the roof of the car. He crowded her senses with his presence. His smooth-as-chocolate eyes were so kind, yet mischief seemed to lurk at the edges.

Though he dressed conservatively in navy Dockers and a starched white, button-down shirt, she could feel his energy straining to be unleashed.

She started the engine. “Was there something else?”

He gave her a slow grin that she could feel all the way to her toes. “Nope.”

“Okay, then.” She tugged slightly on the door handle.

He shifted as if startled that he was blocking the way. “Friday. Don’t forget.” He shut the door and stepped back.

As she drove away, she glanced in the rearview mirror and watched his tall, athletic form disappear inside the cottage. How could he eat that much junk and still look so good?

Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. She wasn’t likely to forget about Friday.

On Friday, Mara raced home from her early-afternoon cleaning appointment at the Clarins’ house. She was hot and sweaty and nervous and expected at the cottage in a half hour.

Pastor Durand hadn’t been at the cottage when she’d returned yesterday in the late afternoon to clean as scheduled. And to her surprise, he’d cleaned up the dirt he’d tracked in the day before.

In fact, the whole cottage was tidy. Since she hadn’t much to scrub, she’d cleaned the oven, just in case he decided to heat up a casserole.

Then this morning, when she’d arrived to work on the computer, he’d been on his way out, dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, looking young and carefree. They’d set a time to meet later. She hadn’t seen him since.

She didn’t know what to expect from him today. Another leisurely stroll down Main Street? At least this time she’d be mentally prepared to roll with his unpredictable ways.

She showered and changed into lightweight powder-blue pants and a tunic-style white cotton sweater. The phone in her room on the bedside table rang just as she finished brushing her teeth. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mar, Donna here.”

Mara rolled her eyes. As if she wouldn’t recognize her childhood friend’s voice. “Hey.”

“So, you going to give me the scoop or what?”

Mara sat on the bed and propped the phone between her shoulder and ear while she put on her tennis shoes. “Scoop?”

“Sue called. Said she’d heard from her aunt, who’d heard from Tina who works at the bakery that you were showing the new pastor around town yesterday. And…he’s to die for.”

Mara tied off the bow on her laces with a little more force than necessary. To die for! Please.

“Well?” Impatience simmered in Donna’s voice.