Anne Winston - Seducing The Proper Miss Miller

Chloe struggled with the guilt his words evoked. Oh, she recognized manipulation when she heard it, but it was hard to resist, coming from her own father. Resentment rose, as well. Every time they disagreed, her father undermined her anger with his apologies and his gently worded reasoning. Even though she knew his feelings were genuine, she still disliked the way he always made her feel like she was the one who should apologize.

“Well, I’m not wild about the idea,” she said, not caring if her voice was sharp. “Whether or not I’ve liked working with you isn’t the issue. What I want to do with the rest of my life is.” She turned and walked out of the inner office, closing the door behind her. Picking up her purse, she started for the main door.

Her father’s door opened behind her. “Where are you going? It’s past lunchtime.”

“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” she had said without stopping or turning around. “I need to think about what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

On Tuesday afternoon, Chloe closed the drawer of the desk at which she sat. The local business and community associations had worked long hours to arrange help for the burned-out parishioners over the weekend.

By Monday, another local church had offered to change their times of worship so that Reverend Miller’s congregation could use their facilities on Sundays. A temporary office had been located rent free in an empty storefront on Main Street. An assortment of donated office furniture had been used to furnish it, and she even had a computer and a copier with a fax machine on loan from an office equipment firm.

She’d spent the day doing little but checking the disks she’d saved from the explosion, purchasing necessary supplies and planning how to reestablish an office routine. It was 4:30 p.m. now, the time the office closed, and she was so exhausted she could hardly wait to lock the door and go home.

But first she had something she had to do.

In the parking lot, she climbed into the rental car she’d picked up on Saturday. Before setting her purse on the seat, though, she pulled a slip of paper from it and examined the address she had copied from the telephone book earlier in the day.

Driving out of town through the green countryside, she told herself that a phone call simply wouldn’t have done the job. Thad had risked his life to save her. She certainly owed him a personal thank-you. As she crossed the creek and turned onto a narrow road that led past a hog farm, she wondered again why he hadn’t come to see her, either in the hospital or since.

Then she remembered the way her father had treated him in the office just last week. Thad probably didn’t want to run into that kind of attitude again. Suddenly she felt much better. She ignored the little voice inside her head that reminded her that Geiserville was a very small town, and like most towns of its size, it would have been extremely easy for Thad to find out when her father was visiting and when he left.

Past the hog farm, she entered a small wood. She was looking for a house, so she almost missed the rusting metal trailer tucked back in a clearing. As it was, she had to reverse and check the mailbox again to be sure she had the correct address.

Could this be right?

The trailer once had been an odd shade of aqua and white, but decades of neglect had faded the white and dulled the aqua unevenly where some patches had received more sun than others. Rusty stains of orange and brown oozed dry rivulets of corrosion from every seam. The pathetic structure’s only saving grace was the well-maintained landscaping that surrounded it. She recognized the swollen glory of forsythia about to bloom, the variegated leaves of the mountain laurel, lilac, rhododendron and pussy willow catkins. Shoots poked from the ground, signaling the advent of iris, tulips and bushes of sweet-scented peony. Even this early in the year it was obvious that someone cared for things that grew.

Chloe checked the numbers on the mailbox one more time. Yes, this was definitely Thad’s address from the telephone book.

Turning left off the road, she directed the rental car onto the rutted lane that disappeared around the other side of the trailer. A smaller building, hidden by the trees, came into view. Beside it was parked a late-model truck and she realized the pickup she’d seen Thad driving when he was working on the church probably had met the same fate her car had.

This second building was far newer than the first, built of sturdy cinder block. At first she thought it was a garage, but there was no bay for a truck.

Climbing from her car, she started to follow the driveway back to the modest front door of the trailer, but the high whining sound of some kind of machine caught her attention. She cocked her head to listen. The sound was coming from the cinder block structure, so she started in that direction.

A poured cement rectangle served as a porch. Chloe stepped onto it and peered through the dusty panes of glass, but she couldn’t see anyone. Lifting a hand, she rapped sharply on the door with her knuckles.

The whining motor stopped abruptly. Footsteps clomped across the floor, and the door was yanked open.

Thad was framed in the doorway. Despite the brisk April breeze outside, he was shirtless again. When he caught sight of her standing on the doorstep, his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well, look what the breeze blew in. What brings you out this way?”

The warn greeting she had planned died in her throat. “I...I, uh, wanted to thank you for getting me out of the church.” She tried a smile.

“No big deal.” He grabbed a sweatshirt from the back of a nearby chair and pulled it over his head, shoving his arms through the cut-off sleeves and pulling it as far down his broad chest as it would go. “I’ve already been thanked. There was no need for you to drive all the way out here.”

Confusion at his attitude and a depth of hurt that she wouldn’t acknowledge cut into her. But she had driven out here, and she was determined to have her say.

“I don’t believe many people would have gone back into the church after me. You saved my life, and I’m here in person to thank you because I wanted to, not because I needed to.” Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she swept the toe of one polished pump restlessly across the concrete, sweeping away minute specks of mud. “You have no idea how many people have come into my office to tell me how proud they are that I managed to save so many files and records. They all tell me that was quick thinking, but the truth is, I was an idiot, staying in that building so long.”

Thad was silent, and when she finally looked up at him, a half smile flirted at one corner of his mouth. “I’d have to agree with that.”

Chloe smiled back, a bubble of happiness welling up inside her. “I still can’t believe I did that.”

“I can’t believe you did, either. I won’t repeat the words I said to myself while I was running back inside after you.”

She giggled. “I bet the sight of you hauling me out of there was pretty funny.”

Thad smiled with her. “I was too busy to notice if anyone was laughing.” Then he nodded, as if in approval. “I’m sure that quick thinking you’re so determined not to take credit for saved the church a tremendous amount of trouble. Just think what it would have been like to have to try to piece together all those records.”

She shuddered in mock dread. “That was all I could think of. I learned early to be practical. It isn’t a habit that goes away.”

He straightened away from the door frame and stepped outside with her. The stoop immediately seemed too small and crowded, though she moved to one side to give him space. Thad took a deep breath of the moist spring air and loudly exhaled it. “Ah, this is great. I needed a break.” Then he turned to pin her with a penetrating gaze again. “Why did you learn to be practical early? And what’s ‘early’ mean?”