Trouble's Brewing (17 page)

I couldn’t help but smile. Not only because his gesture toward his wife was so sweet, but also because soon he would be on a plane headed back to Houston and I would have my very pregnant daughter all to myself. And barring any more emergencies, I couldn’t be more blessed to be in this situation. Not only would I be there for the birth of my new grandchild, I would be in charge of the whole caboodle.

So, this Sunday morning, I woke up with a song in my heart and hurried to bake my lovely French toast casserole for my family.

I had a beautifully set table—my ivory china plates with the gold edging, placed with perfect linen napkins. A lovely crystal bowl with silk pink roses gave the table the perfect touch of color. My casserole was in one of my favorite dishes, an ivory enameled porcelain pan decorated with pink rosebuds.

Of course, as we gathered around the table, we all missed Mandy. She was still in her cozy bed in one of our two guest bedrooms. But who could blame the poor darlin’? After the events of yesterday, she certainly needed to catch up on her rest.

After Henry’s prayer, the men dug in. How I love to watch men enjoy good food. Of course, I had warmed the maple syrup, and that was the perfect topper to my dish.

I didn’t eat as much as they did. How could I? Even so, I knew Jane Fonda and I would be dancing to the beat later this afternoon, to make sure all that bread didn’t stick to my hips.

After breakfast, Henry, Nelson, and I headed for church. We left the recovering Mandy and her adoring husband back at the condo. Honestly, they really were cute together. There they sat, cuddled on my pink velvet sofa; she was all sniffles, talking about their impending separation, while he held her close. How dear. It made my heart swell with love for them both.

I was glad we were making this trip to our quaint little Grace Church this morning. The building itself was a charming clapboard structure that had been around since the mid-1800s, when this area had been a busy gold rush town. The structure would almost be too small if the powers that be hadn’t seen fit to add on an educational unit for Sunday school and other events.

How I enjoyed the drive. The morning was beautiful. The sky was blue, but there was just enough moisture in the air to create a frozen mist, which sparkled as if a crystal snow dome had been stirred to rain down glitter.

I loved the way the fresh snow glistened on the adorable antique shops, including my bridal boutique. It was all like a fairyland.

As we pulled in the parking lot, I saw Evie and Goldie walking toward the church. I waved, but they didn’t. Maybe they hadn’t seen me, but I’m guessing they were giving me the cold shoulder.

It was time for a little damage control.

After bustling around the church hallways for a few minutes, I saw my prey stepping outside his office just before the Sunday school hour. Pastor Kevin Moore, recent widower and best prospect for my dating service. This was my opportunity to quell any forthcoming rumors about me.

The pastor really was a handsome man. Though I think the shock of grief had grayed him a little more around the temples. Still, it only made him look even more distinguished.

I gave him my best smile. “Pastor, I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”

“Mrs. Lambert. How are you this morning?”

“Please, call me Lisa Leann. Pastor, I’ve been praying for you since Jan died. How are you doing?”

His eyes moistened. “Honestly, it’s been tough. It’s no secret that Jan was the love of my life.”

“Well, I’m happy to tell you I may be the solution to that.”

He raised his eyebrows, but before he could comment I rushed on. “But first, I wanted to stop to ask you to pray for the dear ladies of the Potluck Club.”

His eyes brightened. “How are Evangeline and her gang?” he asked.

I shook my head somberly. “Not very well, Pastor. In fact, that’s why the ladies need your prayers. Everything is falling apart. Even my own daughter, Mandy, who’s seven months pregnant, spent the evening in the ER with early contractions and is now on complete bed rest. Then, there’s Evangeline, who is going through a terrible breakup with Sheriff Vesey.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and Lizzie’s son has recently left his wife and has moved home to stay, not to mention poor Goldie—who needs prayer after she left her cheating husband. She’s up to something too, I think. Then of course, you probably don’t know about Vonnie. How her secret past has come back to haunt her? Though if you have time, I’d be happy to fill you in on the details. And then there’s Donna—”

“My goodness, Lisa Leann, that’s probably more information than I needed to know. But I promise you, I will pray.”

“Oh, good. That’s a burden off my shoulders. I’ve carried this all by myself. That’s one of the reasons I came to you. Not only am I the answer to your problems, as I said, I think you are the answer to mine.”

I smiled and batted my eyes, and the pastor shifted, darting his eyes around those passing by in the hallway. Why was he suddenly so nervous?

Just then Miss Evangeline Benson stood in front of us. “Pastor,” she said, totally ignoring me, “I needed to ask you about the Christmas Tea. I know that was Jan’s special project. But has anyone else been tapped to host it this year?”

My ears pricked up at that. “A Christmas tea? I’d love to help!”

Evangeline shot me a warning glance then turned back to the pastor. He replied, “That’s a good question, Evangeline. Do you think the ladies of the Potluck, Lisa Leann included, would like to take a shot at it?”

I spoke for us all when I said, “Of course we would. Just this instant, while you were talking, I got the whole event planned and organized in my head. In fact, I’m hosting a baby shower Taste of Disaster for my daughter next Saturday; the ladies and I will talk about it then.”

The pastor smiled at us both. “Perfect. I’ll leave you two to the details. And if you would pardon me, I’m teaching the junior boys today, so I’ve got to scoot.”

With that, he slipped into the crowd and out of sight.

Evangeline turned to me. “Just what do you think you were doing?”

“Just asking for prayer for my dear Mandy. You know she spent last night in the ER.”

Her frosty gaze melted just a bit. “What happened?”

“Oh, it was just terrible. She’s seven months pregnant, you know, and she fell in the kitchen. She was having severe contractions. Now the doctor’s put her on complete bed rest. She can’t even leave for home, and she’s going to have to take a leave of absence from her teaching job.”

Evie’s eyes softened all the more. “Oh, my goodness.”

“She’ll be in my good care, so all is not lost.”

“But what was that bit I overheard you tell Pastor?”

I crossed my arms uneasily. “Which bit was that?”

“How he’s the answer to your problems and you’re the answer to his? Do you know how that sounded?”

“Yes! I’m going to get him a date.”

“With you?”

I gave her a sideways look. “Don’t be silly. I’m married. I’m talking about my new dating service. Hey, and since Vernon didn’t work out for you, and if Bob has the same fate, which seems likely in my opinion, we should talk. I’m sure I could find a good match for you.”

Evie began to back away. “Ah, no. No thanks. I’m late for class, Lisa Leann. I’ll have to catch you later, especially now that the pastor has assigned the two of us to work on the Christmas Tea.”

She turned just in time to run smack into Bob Burnett. Luckily, he had only just walked up, missing my offer to help Evie find another beau. Whew!

But come to think of it, I’d have to slip around and make my dating service offer to him as well. Still, I couldn’t see what Evie saw lisa leann in the man. I knew he was a Grace deacon, but I’d heard he had never married, which of course makes you wonder. Not only that, Bob certainly wasn’t much to look at. He was skinny as a stick, and with his bald head and arching eyebrows, he looked like he belonged in a comic strip. Though, to be honest, it was my understanding he had a lot of property holdings in the area. And with the price of real estate around here, the man had to be a millionaire, maybe even several times over. Okay, I could see why Evie might be interested. In some regards, Bob had a lot more to offer than that handsome sheriff. I grinned. Sheriff Vesey was yet another candidate for my matchmaking skills.

This was a proud moment for me. Look at all that I had accomplished since I had arrived from Texas only a few short months ago. I was giving the Potluck Club a new chance to regroup—starting at my house with an invitation to Mandy’s baby shower. Then I would offer them a wonderful project, a Christmas Tea, no less. That could bring the girls together. Plus, I would have my precious daughter all to myself. Besides, preparing for a tea would give her something to do too. There would be so many little details and projects she could help with, right from her bed—like cutting out doodads to be glued on name tags and the like. It would be important to make her feel productive and keep her away from the blues.

I turned to head to the adult Sunday school class I’d joined with Henry and found myself staring at the sweetest sight. Standing in front of me were two young lovebirds. I’d never noticed them together before. “Allen and Becky from the singles class?” I asked. “I didn’t know you two were dating. How long have you been together?” Becky blushed, and Allen beamed. “Just since last week,” Allen admitted.

Becky added coyly, “I never thought he would ask me out, and then when he did, we just clicked.”

I had to ask. “So, what prompted you to call Becky, Allen?”

Becky giggled and answered for him. “It was that new column in the
Gold Rush News
, ‘Aunt Ellen Explains It.’”

“Explains Everything,” I corrected.

“Yes, that’s it. Did you read the letter signed ‘Fraidy Cat,’ the one about the man who never acted on his attraction to his friend? Well, when Allen read that, he knew it was somehow written just for him. He went immediately to the telephone and dialed me up and asked me for a date.” She giggled again. “Of course, I said yes.”

I opened my red Brighton purse and pulled out one of my brandnew business cards and handed it to Becky. “I know this may be a bit premature, but if you decide to tie the knot, call me up. I’ll give you two a very special discount.”

Becky read the card and batted her eyes. “Well, you never know,” she said.

“By the way,” I added. “Isn’t your singles group short on teachers? Maybe Henry and I could step in.”

Allen said, “That would be an answer to prayer.”

27

Will the Next Mrs. Pastor Kevin Please Stand Up?

Clay enjoyed being at Higher Grounds on Sunday afternoons.

Well, technically, he arrived early morning for breakfast, returned home for a while, then came back a little before noon. A few minutes after noon meant losing his seat to some of the churchgoing crowd.

Clay especially enjoyed the hour or so when the Grace crowd came in. They would have just come out of church, but for the most part they could be easily persuaded to talk about one another. Of course, these days, everything was fixed on Pastor Kevin’s loss.

And, for a few of the single ladies—the opportunity to become the new Mrs. Pastor Kevin. That new development alone was like a toy box for Clay’s sense of humor.

The women were like vultures.

But, for Clay, they were like the gravy on Sal’s mashed potatoes, which he, according to his diet, could no longer eat.

28

Serving Trouble

After my trip to balmy L.A., I had to wonder why I punished myself with these late-night hours in such frigid weather. And tonight was no exception. The Gold Mine Bank’s digital sign proclaimed the evening chill to have already fallen to 20 degrees, and Weather. com had predicted the night’s low at 8 degrees Fahrenheit. Brrrrrr. As I was on duty, I’d have to somehow stay defrosted until 2:00 in the morning when I could finally curl up in the warmth of my bed.

I slowed my Bronco to drive by the Higher Grounds Café, trying to see if Clay’s blue jeep was parked outside. All was clear. I realized I’d been holding my breath as I pulled into an empty parking spot just outside the restaurant. Clay was someone I had to avoid. How I had successfully maneuvered around him since my return, I just couldn’t explain. Well, yes, I could. I’d stayed away from Higher Grounds because I couldn’t face Clay’s questions yet—not about David, not about Goldie, and certainly not about Vonnie.

I’d really missed my visits.

I grimaced and wondered if Clay had figured out Vonnie and David’s little secret. I hoped not, but then Clay was smart, and reading people was his game. If he suspected the truth, any response on my face would confirm it.

I was one who didn’t want to be read, not by Clay, or any man, for that matter.

I pushed open the café door and heard the bell jingle above my head. The place was hopping tonight. Must be Sal’s new menu. She’d been working to spruce up the place, and it appeared to be paying off. The pine tables were varnished to a shine, and her new bakery case was full of delectable offerings like white chocolate macadamia cookies, homemade cinnamon bread, and cherry cobbler. In fact, it was the baked goods that lured me to take the risk of coming in.

Earlier this afternoon, hoping to avoid Higher Grounds, I’d packed my lunch, filling my jumbo thermos with taco soup hot off the stove top.

Later, as I had driven through the dark streets of Summit View, the lights of the restaurant had beckoned me. Feeling a little hungry, I realized I needed some hot coffee and a slice of fresh corn bread to go with my soup. So here I was, risking everything for a piece of bread and a cup of joe.

“Hey, Donna.”

I looked up, surprised to see Wade Gage standing at the cash register with Pastor Moore. The pastor nodded in my direction, and I nodded back. “Kind of cold to be on the beat tonight, isn’t it?” he said.

Wade patted me on the back. “Don’t worry about Donna; she’s pretty tough, aren’t you, babe?”

Babe?
I decided to ignore the remark and go straight to satisfying my curiosity. “So, are you two having dinner together?”

The two men looked at each other before the pastor answered. “Well, yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve been having dinner here more often since Jan died, and Wade and I have struck up a friendship.”

My radar went up. “Really. So the two of you have dinner here on a regular basis?”

Wade nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“I would think that would interfere with your, uh, lifestyle, Wade. Aren’t you running late for the tavern?”

Wade folded his arms over his grease-stained denim work shirt. He gave me a half smile. “The pastor here is talking to me about turning over a new leaf. What he’s saying is making a lot of sense.”

My eyebrows shot up.
Wade’s getting religion? Wonders will never cease.

Sally rang up Pastor Moore’s bill, and he momentarily turned his back to us.

“Is this ‘new leaf ’ business why you want to talk?” I asked my former beau.

“Partly.” He took his hat off and held it behind his back. “But Donna, you know good and well that we have unfinished business between the two of us.”

This time, I crossed my arms. “I don’t think we have any unfinished business, Wade. Our past is said and done.”

The pastor turned around. “Trust me, Donna, I don’t think Wade is trying to make a move on you as it might appear.”

Wade added, “Right, I only want to tell you something.”

I felt my temperature rise. “So, tell me.”

The two men looked at each other, then the pastor spoke up. “This wouldn’t be the time or place. How about I see you both in my office, let’s say 1:00 tomorrow?”

I started to say no. I mean, these two men had ganged up on me, and that was reason enough to tell them to take a hike. But something stopped me. Possibly it was the look in Wade’s eyes—pure pain. He said, “I’m sorry we put you on the spot. But I kept the promise I made to you at the bank. Now it’s your turn to keep your promise to me.”

I think my mouth was still open when the bell jingled over the front door. I turned to see—oh no—Clay Whitefield looking almost gleeful.

I turned back to the men. “Okay. I know I’m going to regret this, but okay.”

Clay walked up. “Doing a little street evangelism to the local sinners, Pastor?”

Pastor Moore chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at church, Clay. So anytime you want to talk …”

Clay rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Very good, Pastor. You’ve managed to corner another backslider.”

Wade and Pastor Moore said their good-byes and walked out into the bitter cold. The frigid air that blew in reminded me of what I was in for tonight. Clay continued to stand behind me as if he, too, were waiting in line.

“How was your trip, Donna?”

“Not so great.”

Clay looked absolutely relieved by this news. “Sorry to hear that.”

Larry the cook took his place behind the counter to take my order. “Why, if it isn’t the Ticket Master.”

“Ha-ha. Just give me a large coffee and a big hunk of your corn bread, to go.”

Larry grinned at me. He really wasn’t a bad guy, but he always looked a little, well, greasy, with his dirty apron and slicked-back hair and hairnet. “Coming up,” he said.

When he came back with my order, instead of ringing it up, he leaned on one elbow and stared me down. “Donna, I’ve been thinking about you lately.”

Uh-oh.

Clay moved closer so he could watch this obvious come-on. I tried not to grimace. It appeared Larry was another fan of Lisa Leann’s “Fraidy Cat” column. With that realization, I tried to keep my cool. “Really.”

“Yeah, I was asking myself why a cute girl such as yourself was still unattached, and I decided it was because she hasn’t met the right man.”

I nodded. “That’s a fair bet.”

“Your search is over.” He smiled at me, showing the large gap between his teeth. “Here I am. I know you like my cooking. Let’s say you and I go out. Though, no speeding tickets. Okay?”

“Flattered by your offer, Larry. But I don’t think so.”

Larry stood straight and began to ring up my order. “Why not? We wouldn’t even have to get personal to get close, if you know what I mean.”

As I paid, I said, “I do know what you mean, and just wipe that idea out of your brain. Because that’s not going to happen. No way, no how.”

Larry frowned and handed me my order. I turned so fast I ran smack into Clay, who was standing a little too close.

“Excuse me,” I said.

He grinned foolishly as he looked down at the top of my head. “Donna, I have more to tell you about the stranger who was looking for you the other day.”

I had to hand it to him. Clay was good; he knew just what to say to keep me from bolting. “What do you know?” I demanded, gripping my brown sack of corn bread.

“Well, Pastor Moore told me this morning that this same man went to see him, told him you were up for a community service award. Wanted to know if you were a good little churchgoer.”

“What?”

“Let’s sit down at the table in the corner and try to figure this out.”

Like a lost puppy, I obediently followed. As I sat, I said, “This is all so weird. What do you make of it?”

“Before I tell you what I think, I want to know—are you and David Harris an item?”

“Not really,” I said. “We’re friends.”

“You went to L.A. to be with David, as a friend?”

I shook my head and looked away. “It’s complicated. But we’re friends, okay?”

“Well, I know Goldie didn’t travel with you.”

“Did I ever say she did?”

“No, but I still think you’re protecting someone. Vonnie?”

“You think pure-as-the-driven-snow Vonnie is David’s mother. What have you been smoking?”

Clay just stared at me and blinked. He was trying the read the truth from my best poker face, so I quickly changed the subject to the question at hand. “So, what do you think is going on with this stranger?”

“Well, Donna, quite frankly, I hate to tell you, but I don’t think you’re up for an award.”

I snorted a laugh. “Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?”

He shifted uneasily. “I think you’re under investigation.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“That’s a good question. I doubt you’re on the take. And as far as I know, your only enemies in Summit County are a few speedsters, right? I read the sheriff ’s blotter daily. There’s not really anything linking you to any major accidents or wrongful deaths. Correct?” My heart literally stopped. “Oh no.”

“What is it? You’re as white as a sheet.”

“I gotta go. I gotta call my dad.” I got up from the table in a fog.

He stood with me. “You don’t think this has anything to do with that baby drowning up above Boulder, do you?”

I turned and stared at him. “You know about that?”

“I’m a journalist. It’s my habit to read all the papers in the vicinity. You think I wouldn’t read an article about you?”

I sat down again, hard. My cup of coffee sloshed beneath the protective lid. “Yeah, I guess you would have. I guess that means you’ve known my secret all this time. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You held on to it so tightly, I thought it would hurt you if I exposed it. Though it would have made a great front-page story. But I know you, and I know this baby’s death couldn’t be easy for you. I just didn’t want to make it any harder.” Clay kept standing but smiled down at me with a warmth I’d never seen in him before. “It was really a brave thing you did, going back into that flooded river to try to rescue that woman’s child. I never told you, but I think you’re a hero.”

I stood again. “I gotta go.” I rushed to the door and pulled it open, just as a blast of icy wind hit me dead in the face. Before I could recover, a man stepped next to me. “Pardon me, Deputy. You dropped this.” I turned and stared at the stranger. Dressed in a brown overcoat, dress pants, and shoes, he seemed a bit out of place for this mountain town where everyone else was bundled in bright parkas and knit caps. He handed me an envelope. Blindly, Donna I took it, and he smiled. “Thanks, Deputy, you’ve just been served a civil lawsuit suing for monetary damages in the death of infant Bailey Ann Long. Good luck.”

Before I could react, the stranger disappeared into the shadows.

“No,” I whispered.

I was trying to breathe when a hand suddenly rested on my shoulder. It was Clay. I turned to him.

“He must have seen your Bronco parked outside and known you were here,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

I stared up at Clay, trembling with either shock or the cold or both. I didn’t know. Neither did I know what to say or what to do. Clay did. He swallowed me into his arms, holding me tight as I wept into his chest.

The dam had finally broken, releasing a flood of emotion I didn’t even know one person could contain. Standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, Clay gently stroked my hair as I sobbed in his arms. I did nothing to resist. “Donna,” he finally whispered in my ear. “How have you carried this all by yourself?”

I cried harder, and he pulled me to his jeep. “Get in,” he instructed. “It’s cold out here. Besides, we can’t let all of Summit View see you like this.”

I shook my head. “I’m on duty. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But I don’t think you’re in any shape to drive. Can I take you to your dad’s?”

I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my leather jacket. “I’m okay. I’m just going to sit in my Bronco for a while.”

“Then I’ll sit with you. I’ll be your ride-along.”

That’s when I looked at him. I was startled to see how his eyes glistened with fire. I’d always thought of him as chubby, but had he been losing weight? I hadn’t noticed till that very moment. And there was something else. It was … he looked so earnest … so … so in love?

My head was spinning. “No. No, I’m on duty. I’m okay. I need to be alone.”

Reluctantly, Clay let me go, and I climbed into my Bronco and powered it up before pulling into traffic without looking back. It was 8:45, and I needed a place to hide, to think. I drove into the back of the bank’s parking lot and let the truck idle.

I picked up my cell phone and dialed. “Dad?”

My father’s deep voice resonated with concern. “Donna, you sound upset. Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath. “Not really.”

The cell phone crackled as he asked, “Where are you?”

“At the bank.”

“Was there a robbery? Are you hurt?”

I sobbed softly before answering. “No, no, but something’s happened—the thing we were afraid of.”

“You’re not making sense. Stay put; I’m coming over there.”

A few minutes later, Dad’s Bronco pulled up next to mine, and my father climbed into the cab of my truck. He handed me his hanky and said, “Girl, tell me what’s wrong.”

I blew my nose before answering. “I got served.”

“What?”

I handed him the papers. He hit the overhead light then read them in silence.

“Donna, you can beat this. No jury in the world is going to blame you for what happened on the river that night. You risked your life to save that child.”

“But a baby’s dead, and it’s all my fault.”

Daddy looked at me, then lifted my chin with his hand. “The baby’s death is not your fault. It was a freak accident, an act of nature.”

My eyes couldn’t meet his. “Or God is punishing me.”

He snorted. “I know I haven’t been to church in years. But I don’t believe that. I can’t say I understand the mind of God or why these things happen. But you’ve suffered enough. It’s time for you to face this thing so you can let go of it. Maybe this bogus lawsuit will help you put it all behind you.”