Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | A Treasure of the Heart

A Treasure of the Heart
Valerie Hansen


When Lillie Delaney's life in the big city didn't work out, she headed home to Gumption, Arkansas, longing for the peaceful predictability of the tiny town. Not to mention the proximity of the grandmother who'd raised her.

Yet Lillie was in for a shock: her grandfather had taken off with a younger woman and her grandmother running around in a pink shower cap wasn't handling it very well. So Lillie turned to town pastor James Warner, only to find a very handsome motorcycle-riding rebel in a black leather jacket! But she was beginning to learn that the Lord did indeed work in very mysterious ways…









A Treasure of the Heart

Valerie Hansen







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Many thanks to Bert and Troy for explaining

all the ins and outs of running a small restaurant.

Not only are they nice people, their restaurant

offers the best-tasting, home-style meals

for miles around. And thanks to Joe for taking

me there to eat so often!




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue




Chapter One


There were times when days, even weeks, passed without a thought of her past. Then, some little thing would jog Lillie Delaney’s memory and her mind would flit back to Gumption, Arkansas, and the idyllic life she’d once led as a child growing up in the foothills of the Ozark Mountains.

Today, the trigger was a scrap of paper resembling a dry leaf being carried along by the rainwater in a curbside gutter. As Lillie watched, her make-believe leaf became a homemade boat, the gutter a meandering creek and Lillie a seven-year-old seeing her tiny craft sail out of reach.

“Catch it!”

“You catch it. It’s your boat.”

Squealing, Lillie had jumped feetfirst into the stream, slipped on a mossy rock and landed on her back pockets in the icy water while a neighbor boy and his sister had giggled over her plight. She’d been sure she’d be scolded for coming home all wet that day. Instead, Gram had found the incident so funny she’d hugged little Lillie and they’d laughed together until tears had run down their cheeks.

Lillie sighed. Breathed deeply. Brought herself back to the present and hurried across the busy city street as the traffic light changed in her favor. There was something refreshing about the air after a storm, even though the wind off Lake Michigan was cutting through her heavy coat and chilling her to the bone. Here in Chicago she welcomed showers because they cleansed the atmosphere and left behind a temporary respite from the pollution of the bustling city.

Back home in Gumption, the rain always gave the air a heavy sweetness as it nourished the forested hills. This time of year, redbud trees would be finishing their display and dogwoods would be spreading creamy-white four-petal flowers in the dappled shade of the soon-to-leaf-out oaks. Yellowish-green buds would make the forest shimmer in the rain’s aftermath, glistening with the promise of the coming canopy; a roof of coolness beneath the arching azure of a cloudless Southern summer sky.

Shivering, Lillie pushed her way through the revolving door into the imposing stone office building where she’d worked for years. Her heels clacked against the polished marble floor of the crowded lobby. Concerned about the time, she hurried to the elevator and pushed the up button again, even though it was already lit. Slick streets had made her late, not that anyone upstairs would believe that excuse. No one employed there had a passion for his or her job. They simply reported in the morning, put in their required hours behind a desk and went home as soon as possible. That blasé attitude had been hard for Lillie to understand until she’d spent a few months walking in their shoes—or rather, sitting in their desk chairs.

She huffed as she stepped onto the elevator. Months, nothing. She’d been stuck in basically the same job for much longer than that and she was now at the top step in her department. Granted, somebody had to manage the clerks who processed medical insurance records and ordered the authorized payments but if there was a more boring job in the world she couldn’t imagine what it could be.

Three men wearing raincoats and a middle-aged woman carrying a folded, dripping umbrella followed her onto the already crowded elevator. Pressed into a rear corner, Lillie felt nearly as uncomfortable as she had the time she and her girlfriends had crammed together into the janitor’s closet at school, meaning to scare him, and had panicked and nearly suffocated when they’d accidentally locked themselves in. To this day, being in total darkness gave her the willies.

There was no accident involved with her present position, however. She’d come to the city to seek excitement and glamour and had found, instead, boredom and dingy sameness masquerading as job security.

Part of her loneliness was admittedly her own fault. Though she did attend church occasionally, she had never become fully involved in the kind of social life that would bring her into contact with many like-minded people. A few friends from work had invited her to go clubbing with them, years ago, and she had given it a try. In retrospect, she realized they’d meant well but she’d felt about as comfortable in that situation as a newly landed catfish flopping around in the bottom of a fishing boat. Both were clearly out of their element.

The mental picture made her smile. As she removed her scarf and fluffed her shoulder-length light brown hair, she glanced at the woman with the umbrella, wishing she could share her good humor with someone. She was rewarded with a scowl.

“If I wanted to live in a city, I should have gone farther south instead of coming this direction,” Lillie mumbled.

“Beg your pardon?”

Lillie’s smile waned, her blue eyes misty. “Never mind. I was just talking to myself.” The elevator stopped at Lillie’s floor. “Excuse me, please.” She edged toward the open door, bumping shoulders with others in spite of efforts to take care. “Excuse me. I have to get off.”

Someone held the doors long enough for her to exit. They slid closed behind her with a hiss while her last words echoed repeatedly in her mind. I have to get off. I have to get off.

Instead of rushing to her office, she stood in the cavernous hallway, blinking as reality seeped in. Her heart was the only part of her that was still racing and it was galloping laps around her muddled brain. What was she doing here? Why hadn’t she admitted her mistakes long ago, gotten off this figurative treadmill and headed home where she belonged?

The answer was pride. Except for the occasional visit when she had lauded city life as if all her dreams had come true, pride had kept her from going back to Gumption. And pride could keep her locked in the same dead-end job for literally a lifetime if she let it.

She didn’t want to run home to Grandma Darla Sue and admit defeat but she didn’t want to waste what remained of her life, either. There had to be more to a worthwhile existence than she’d found so far. Maybe she was expecting too much. Then again, maybe she’d once lived in the perfect place and had been too dense or stubborn to recognize it.

Lillie squared her shoulders and strode toward her office. There was only one way to find out. She was going to muster her courage, give the two weeks’ notice and head for the only place that had ever felt truly like home.



To Lillie’s surprise her superiors had decided that two weeks’ notice was unnecessary, had accepted her resignation and had told her she was free to leave immediately.

So much for being indispensable!

She’d said a somber if relieved goodbye to coworkers in nearby cubicles and had been on her way home to her apartment to start packing within the hour.

Some of her friends had wanted to throw a going-away party but Lillie talked them out of it by promising to return for her stored furniture and let them have a get-together then, if they still wanted to.

Two days later she was on the road, driving south in a mental haze and wondering what had come over her. There she was, too close to thirty-five for comfort, unemployed and heading for the only place that had ever felt like a real home. The notion of plunking herself back into Grandma Darla Sue’s and Grandpa Max’s lives and making their house her home again, the way she had been forced to as a lonely child, gave her colder chills than the gales off Lake Michigan.

If she used up her savings before she found another job, there was always the value of her furniture to fall back on, she reasoned. She knew her friends would sell it for her and send her the money if she them her to. At least she knew they would if they still lived there. If there was one thing Lillie had learned about life in the big city it was how fast everything could change.

All she really wanted was to reclaim the peace she’d so foolishly left behind when she’d moved North. If that meant she had to bite the bullet and spend a few weeks staying with her grandparents till she got back on her feet, then she would. She figured, as long as she explained to stubborn, reclusive Grandpa Max that she didn’t intend to stay for more than a few weeks he wouldn’t pitch too big a fit about sharing his peace and quiet with her again. Now that she was older and hopefully wiser, she could see that one of the reasons she and Max had butted heads was that they were so much alike under the surface.

Passing through Serenity and entering Gumption on Highway 62, Lillie noticed little difference since her last brief visit, at least not on the surface. The courthouse in the town square and its bordering stores were still the center of activity. Tall, silvery-leafed poplars had replaced some of the old maples on the courthouse lawn and the streets looked narrower than they had when she was a child, but other than that the place seemed pretty much the same. The entire area was sort of stuck in a time warp, which in her case was exactly what she craved.

She sighed. It was truly good to be home. She just hoped her favorite resident wasn’t going to be too disappointed in her for quitting a steady job. The work ethic was strong in Darla Sue Howell. She’d kept her little café going in spite of Max’s lack of encouragement and had made room for Lillie when her parents’ marriage had self-destructed and the ensuing divorce had sent her mother into a bottomless pit of self-pity. Lillie loved Darla Sue more than anything in the world and there wasn’t anyone she wanted more to please.

Eager to surprise her grandmother at work, she parked her blue sedan in one of the spaces surrounding the courthouse, grabbed her purse and a sweater and slid out, resisting the urge to lock the car door. Folks in Gumption trusted their neighbors. If she were to lock the door she’d immediately demonstrate that she no longer fit into this lifestyle. Better to chance losing whatever inconsequential items she’d left piled on the car seats than to be immediately ostracized as an outsider.

Smiling and feeling amazingly free, she slipped the sweater on and crossed the street to the café. The sign over the door had once read, Darla’s Deli, but the red paint on the smaller letters had faded until all that remained were the two capital Ds. For as long as Lillie could recall, the place had simply been “DD’s” and so it still was.

During her Christmas visit she’d offered to climb up and repaint the sign in spite of the freezing temperature but her grandmother wouldn’t hear of it. Darla Sue had said, if folks didn’t know who she was or what she served in the café, they didn’t need to be coming in, anyway. Since business had always been good enough to keep her busy and employ a small staff, Lillie had had to agree.

The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and homemade biscuits filled Lillie’s senses as she pushed open the restaurant door. Original decor that had remained unchanged for so long that it was now referred to as retro prompted a rush of nostalgia. Framed pictures of old film stars and even older cars lined the walls. Paper place mats and packets of silverware rolled inside white napkins graced the tables and a vase with a single silk flower was carefully centered behind each set of salt-and-pepper shakers. Come summer, when Darla Sue’s garden was in full bloom, the flowers in those milk-glass vases would be real.

Lillie sighed. Coming here was so much like stepping back into childhood she immediately craved a warm oatmeal-raisin cookie and an equally warm hug from her darling grandmother.

Pausing at the entrance to scan the sparse crowd, she garnered a few amiable nods but saw no one she recognized outright. That was the way it had been the last few times she’d visited. Many of the old-timers who’d known her as a child had either passed away or moved to condos in Florida, bless their hearts. Every trip home had made her feel less and less a part of life in Gumption. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she’d felt such a strong pull to return for good.

She crossed the room, heels clicking on the black-and-white checkerboard-tiled floor and peeked in the kitchen door, fully expecting to find her grandmother standing at the grill, wearing a chef’s apron and wielding a spatula.

Instead, she saw a stranger. The middle-aged woman’s washed-out blond hair was pulled back by a rolled blue bandanna and escaped curls were plastered to her forehead and neck by perspiration.

The woman glowered. “What’s the matter? Didn’t like your eggs?”

“No. I haven’t even eaten.” Lillie recovered from her astonishment and extended her hand. “I’m Lillie Delaney, Darla Sue’s granddaughter. I’m afraid we haven’t met.”

“I’m Rosie,” the woman said without shaking her hand. “Do you cook?”

“A little. Why?”

Rosie whipped off the scarf and threw it aside, then untied her apron strings. “Because you can have this job. I quit.”

Lillie instinctively backed up. When she’d wished for gainful employment she hadn’t meant anything like this. Cooking had never been her forte. Eating, maybe. Preparing a meal with more than three ingredients, no way.

“Hold it,” she said, trying to sound amiable in the face of the woman’s obvious distress. “I know exactly how you feel but I didn’t come here to take your job, Rosie. I’m just looking for my grandmother. Please stay.”

She sighed. “Okay. But I warn you, one more complaint from some good old boy who just assumes I’ll know how he wants his stupid food cooked, or what he hates, and I’m out of here.”

“Gram is pretty good at remembering that kind of detail,” Lillie said. “Is she taking the day off?”

“More like the month,” the harried cook answered. “I was supposed to be her assistant. She said she was going to teach me the ropes. We got started fine the first day. Then she stepped out to get a few things at the market and never came back to work.”

“She isn’t missing, is she?!”

“No, no. According to old Rayford Evans she just wandered on home. He was havin’ coffee in here with the other retired farmers, just like he always does, and that waitress, Helen, sent him over to her house to check. He said Darla Sue was bakin’ cookies when he got there and actin’ as if everything was hunky-dory.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Only about two weeks, I guess. Seems like years.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lillie said. “We’ll make arrangements to get you some help, I promise.” She glanced over her shoulder as the back door slammed. “Helen! Thank goodness. I was afraid poor Rosie was stuck here all by herself.”

Helen engulfed Lillie in a smothering, motherly embrace. Lillie couldn’t help noticing that the portly woman’s clothing and hair smelled of vanilla, bacon and cigarettes. Gram used to smell like that, too, except without the nicotine. The familiar aromas tugged at Lillie’s heart.

“I just went to dump the trash and grab a quick smoke,” Helen said. “It’s been crazy here lately. Miss Darla’s gone off the deep end, business is terrible and somebody’s been tryin’ to run off the new preacher at the Front Porch Christian Church. I was just talkin’ to Rayford and a few of the other regular customers about it.”

Lillie blinked, disbelieving. Storytelling had long ago risen to the status of a fine art in Gumption and she didn’t presume for a second that the rumors were true. Still, if Darla Sue was having problems, as Rosie had intimated, maybe there was a grain of truth to Helen’s statement.

“What’s wrong with Gram?” Lillie asked.

“It’s a long story. You plannin’ on stayin’ a spell? Miss Darla can use a shoulder to cry on right about now.”

“Business is really bad?”

“The pits.” Helen glanced at the morose cook. “It’s not Rosie’s fault. She’s doin’ her best. So am I. It’s just that Miss Darla did all the ordering and we’re not keeping up very well without her.”

“Why hasn’t she been coming in?”

The waitress tsk-tsked and shook her head. “That’s for her to say. Personally, I think she had a nervous breakdown or some such thing.”

“Oh, dear.” The last part of Helen’s earlier revelation was echoing in the back of Lillie’s mind. “What does that have to do with a new preacher at Gram’s church?”

“Nothin’. That’s a whole other story,” the waitress said. “Tell you what. Why don’t you go see about Darla Sue first. The gossip about the preacher’ll wait.”

“Are you positive there were attempts to get rid of the man? I mean, things like that just don’t happen around here.”

“Looks like they do now. The minute Brother James started talkin’ about buildin’ a new church, strange things started happening.”

Lillie knew how the locals hated change but she couldn’t picture them resorting to violence to stop it. “Maybe the guy is just accident-prone.”

Helen snorted. “If he is, it’s rubbed off on the church, too.”

Although Lillie was intrigued, she knew her primary duty was to Darla Sue. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll go say hello to Gram like you suggested and look over the situation at home. When I get back, I want to hear the rest of your story about the new preacher.”

“Take your time,” Rosie said with a stifled yawn. “This is Friday so we’re open for supper, too. We’ll be stuck here till after nine, like it or not.”

Lillie was almost to the door when she heard Rosie add, “And I don’t like it. Man, I hate this job.”

The echo of her own career woes gave Lillie the shivers. Even paradise had its share of problems, didn’t it?



The engine of the massive motorcycle didn’t hum or buzz like those little imported bikes; it thumped in a galloping cadence reminiscent of the old single-cylinder gas engines that had once powered farm machinery and primitive factories from Maine to California.

Pastor James Warner often thought of the sound as the heartbeat of the beast he rode. Though he’d given in to the deacons’ urging that he wear a helmet, he was not about to give up the independence he’d found riding such a formidable machine. The Harley was the only thing he’d salvaged after his former life had fallen apart around him and he intended to hang on to it. After all, it wasn’t as if he had to drive a car in order to ferry family members. Except for God, he was essentially alone. And that was the way he liked it.

Snug in his black leather bomber jacket, he reveled in the sensation of the cool wind on his face, the unfettered freedom of movement, the way the motorcycle seemed to become an extension of his personality. Riding was more than an escape. It put him in tune with nature and that somehow brought him closer to God.

Funny, he thought. There had been times lately when he’d felt so blessed he’d wondered if he’d accidentally wandered into someone else’s life!

He began to grin. Members of his flock had made no secret of their worries that riding the bike would bring him face-to-face with his Maker before his time. He respectfully disagreed. Either he was in God’s hands all the time, or he never was. Psalm 139 said he was “fearfully and wonderfully made” and that God had known him even before he was born, so how could it be otherwise?

He shifted, banked and cornered, passing DD’s café. One of his recent disappointments was his inability to get through to Mrs. Howell. But he wasn’t going to give up. No, sir. Darla Sue Howell had once been a driving force in his church and she would be again. All he had to do was figure out how to inspire her and draw her back into the fold.

James grimaced. The last time he’d paid her a call he’d had to talk to her through a closed door. He knew she’d heard the Harley pull into her driveway because she’d slammed the front door practically in his face.

“It’s me, Mrs. Howell,” he’d called pleasantly, helmet in hand so she could see his face if she chose to peek out. “Brother James Warner.”

“I know who it is,” Darla Sue had shouted from inside the house. “Go away.”

“I’d have called first but your phone is out of order.”

“No, it’s not. I took it off the hook.”

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Right as rain,” she’d answered.

“We miss you at church. It’s not the same without you sitting in the front pew, keeping an eye on things.”

“Bah. Nobody misses me.”

“I do.”

“You’re supposed to miss me. It’s your job,” she’d snapped.

James had been at a temporary loss for words. She was right, yet there was much more to it than that. He did care. Deeply. It was one of the drawbacks of being a minister of the gospel. When the people in his congregation hurt, he hurt for them. Then again, when they were joyful he shared in that, too.

Sometimes, when he caught himself wishing there was more to be happy about, he’d recall the life he’d led before he’d come to Gumption. There was no comparison.

His only regret, at this point, was that it had taken him so long to find the right path and start to walk it. He had a lot of catching up to do and he was looking forward to meeting those challenges.




Chapter Two


Lillie’s grandparents’ home was one of those brick places that had started out as a simple rectangle and had grown into a sprawling megalith over the years. Darla Sue and Max had raised their own five children, seen them off to college or married or both, and then taken in Lillie, their only granddaughter. It had been clear at the time that Max had considered his child-rearing days completed. He had acted far from eager to welcome another youngster into the house but Gram had treated Lillie as if she were the only bright star in the sky.

Back then, Lillie had accepted that love as her due, but in retrospect she could see what a strain her presence must have placed on her grandparents and their marriage. To Darla Sue’s credit, she had never complained or said she wished she was free of the added responsibility of a child.

Max’s pickup truck wasn’t in the drive when Lillie arrived but Darla Sue’s car was. Parking next to a bed of nodding yellow daffodils, Lillie got out and climbed the wooden porch steps leading to the back door. Gram’s latest pair of tattered gardening sneakers had been kicked off and left beside the mat, just as they had been in years past. The familiar sight tugged at Lillie’s memories and transported her back to her childhood. What small feet Gram had. Funny how she’d never noticed that before.

Smiling and sighing, she knocked on the back screen door, got no answer and let herself in with a cheery “Hello? Gram? It’s me!”

The kitchen hadn’t changed in years, either. It was still typical of the 1950s, with homemade cabinets of cedar and a floor covered with worn linoleum instead of more modern vinyl. In one end of the kitchen sat the familiar chrome-and-red-plastic dinette set.

Darla Sue called out her answer from the other room as if Lillie hadn’t been away at all, let alone living in Illinois for years. “Hoo-whee! Lillie, honey. Come on in! You’re just in time. I was fixin’ to make your favorite, fried cherry pies.”

Uh-oh, she thought. Southern comfort food. The answer to any kind of stress. Run for your life Mr. Bathroom Scale, here comes the new, super-sized Lillie Delaney.

“Thanks, Gram. Sounds good,” she replied, vowing to limit her intake at all costs. After thirty she’d found that the slightest dab of extra food added to her hips, seemingly overnight, and a fried pie was considerably more than a dab. It was more like a semitruckload.

When Darla Sue appeared in the doorway from the living room, Lillie’s blue eyes widened in surprise. Most of Gram’s quirks were familiar to her. This latest one, however, was brand new. And it was such doozy she almost laughed out loud.

Although Darla Sue was fully dressed, her curly hair was tucked neatly beneath a pink bouffant shower cap.

“What?” The old woman scowled in response to Lillie’s evident amusement.

“I was just noticing your…um…hat.”

“What about it?”

Lillie struggled to keep a straight face and failed. “Did you forget to take it off after you showered?”

“Nope.”

“But, you’re wearing…”

“I know what I’m wearing, girl. I put it on, didn’t I?” She started into the kitchen. “It’s chilly today. I could use a cup of tea.”

“Okay. Let’s sit and talk a bit. I want to ask you why you haven’t been going to work.”

The disgusted look on her grandmother’s face made Lillie’s grin spread. Knowing this spry elderly enigma, she’d beat around the bush for a while, then eventually tell all. It was waiting for her to get to the point that was always the most frustrating.

The older woman displaced a snoozing yellow cat and settled herself in one of the chrome-and-red plastic dinette chairs. She watched quietly while Lillie filled the copper tea kettle, set it on the front burner and lit the antiquated stove with a match before she said, “It’s all that Wanda’s fault.”

“What is? The cap, or not going to work?”

“Both.” Darla Sue tapped the pink plastic cap for emphasis. “I couldn’t find my mama’s babushka. You used to play with it when you were little. Remember? It was paisley, with a brown border.”

“I do remember that old scarf. Whenever I’d put it on you used to say I looked just like the pictures of Great Great-Grandma Emily when she was an immigrant.”

“That’s the one. Anyhow, it’s missing.”

One of Lillie’s eyebrows arched. “Okay. What does that have to do with staying home from work?”

“Everything. And don’t look at me like that, girl. I’m not daft.”

“Hey, I never said you were. But you are confusing sometimes. Maybe we’d better concentrate on one problem at a time. Tell me about Wanda first.”

“Okay. She got a newfangled phone. One of those little ones that takes pictures and shows you who you’re talking to.”

Lillie fetched two mugs and put a tea bag in each before bringing them to the table while she waited for the water to boil. “What does that have to do with the scarf?”

“I’m getting around to it,” the elderly woman grumbled. “The director at the Senior Center has one of those phones, too, a little blue one. I stopped by there on my way to the market the other day and had a chance to try it out.”

“And you called Wanda? Gram, that’s long distance.”

“I know. But I couldn’t think of anybody else who had one of those stupid camera things and the director said it was all right.”

Lillie nodded, hoping to convey empathy. “Go on.”

“I was all set to have a fine set-down visit with Wanda, just like we used to do before she moved so far away. Might have, too, if it hadn’t been for that telephone. Wanda took one look at the snapshot of me on her phone and busted out laughing.”

“Why?”

Darla Sue’s thin fingers grasped the cap and pulled it off. “’Cause of this.”

“Your hair?” Lillie blinked, more puzzled than ever.

“Yep. When Wanda finally stopped cackling like a hen on a nest of fresh eggs, she said I looked like a skunk.”

“Oh, dear.” Lillie had to bite her lip to keep from agreeing. “You’re letting your hair grow out?”

“It would appear so.”

“And that’s why you haven’t been at the café?”

“Bingo. I always did think you were a smart cookie.”

Lillie was frowning. “I still don’t see the problem. I mean, I can understand why you’d be miffed at Wanda for laughing at you but you could still go in to work. There’s not a thing wrong with gray hair. I don’t know why you dyed it for so many years, anyway. If you want to go gray, why don’t you just have the dyed part stripped of color?”

Darla Sue had a faraway look in her eyes, as if her mind was elsewhere, and she didn’t respond to Lillie’s sensible suggestion. Instead, she said, “Max didn’t cotton to gray, you know. That’s why I kept it dark. For him. Now that he’s gone, I decided it was time to be myself for a change.”

Lillie froze. Was Gram saying what Lillie thought she was saying? “Grandpa Max is dead?” She gently took the old woman’s hands. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not dead, you ninny.” Darla Sue pulled away with a cynical grimace. “Gone. Took off for Florida with one of them fancy single floozies from the retirement center.” She sighed. “I suppose he’ll be back. He always comes home eventually.”

“Whoa.” The teakettle began to whistle in the background. Lillie ignored it. “Always? Grandpa’s done this kind of thing before?”

“Three times, more’s the pity. You’d think a man his age would be over this silliness by now, wouldn’t you?”

Lillie was nearly speechless. “But…”

“The first time he left me was when your mama was little. That was the scariest, me being alone and all. The second time it happened was before you were born.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Things were hard enough between you and Max, thanks to his stubborn, selfish nature. I always took him back and forgave him, so there was no need to keep bringin’ up the past.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

“Not to me it isn’t.” Her chin jutted out stubbornly. She smashed the shower cap back onto her head and poked stray curls beneath the elastic band with jabs of her thin, quick fingers. “That tea water’s boilin’. You wanna go get it or shall I?”



It was hours later before Lillie had a chance to steal away and place a private call to her mother, Sandra, in Harrison.

As soon as Sandra said hello, Lillie followed with “Why didn’t you tell me about Grandpa Max?”

“Oh, dear. Mom’s been blabbing, hasn’t she?”

“She said he ran off with a floozy. I can’t believe he’s such a stinker.”

“He isn’t. He’s just a man. They can’t help it.”

“Phooey. Daddy wasn’t like that.” The dead silence on the other end of the line made Lillie’s heart sink. “Mom?”

“Your father was a good man—most of the time. And he was a wonderful provider. I’m just sorry you had to see us go through that awful divorce.”

“Daddy cheated?” Lillie felt as if her childhood had just imploded. No wonder her mother had suffered so much. She’d known the whole sordid truth. And now Lillie did. The reputation of the man she had loved and admired most while growing up had just been destroyed.

Head spinning, she barely heard her mother asking, “So, how was the trip back to Gumption? How’s Mom?” There was a short pause. “Lillie? Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” she managed to say. Once she started to speak, casual conversation seemed to get easier. “Gram’s fine, if you don’t count the shower cap she insists on wearing all the time to cover her gray roots.”

“I told her to get a haircut weeks ago. See if you can talk her into it while you’re there, will you?”

“Sure.”

“Honey? Are you okay?”

“Me? Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve just learned the truth about something that affected my entire childhood. That one fact finally answered the thousands of questions I’ve been asking myself for years. Trouble is, I don’t like those answers one bit.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. I just assumed you’d figured it out a long time ago, what with the way gossip travels in a small town like Gumption.”

“Well, ‘Ask and you shall receive,’” Lillie replied. She couldn’t blame God or anybody else if she’d gotten exactly the kind of answers she’d asked for, could she? And it did explain so much.

Suppose her mother had been the kind of resilient woman Darla Sue was? Suppose she’d chosen to forgive and keep their family together instead of divorcing Dad?

Then I wouldn’t have come to live with Gram and we’d probably never have been this close, Lillie realized with a start. Think what I’d have missed!

That conclusion made her smile in spite of everything. It looked as if maybe the good Lord did know what He was doing after all.



Lillie didn’t get back to DD’s till almost closing time. A skinny, acne-pocked kid she’d never met was stacking dishes in the utility sink when she popped in the back door. He glanced up briefly but didn’t seem nearly as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

She gave him a passing “Hi,” hung her jacket on a hook in the back room and went to find Helen. The faithful waitress was busing the last of the tables along the outside wall so Lillie pitched in to help.

“Thanks,” Helen said as they carried stacks of dirty plates to the cart and scraped off the garbage before sorting the dishes, silverware and plastic tumblers into separate bins. “How was the boss lady?”

“Fine, if you don’t mind seeing her in a shower cap all the time.”

Helen laughed. “That’s a new one.”

“It’s her hair,” Lillie said with a smile. “One of her friends teased her about letting the gray grow out and she refuses to let anyone else see it till it’s long enough to have all the dyed parts cut off. That’s why she’s been staying home.”

“Makes perfect sense to me. I used to be a redhead, back when I thought it mattered. Now, who cares? Plain brown is fine at my age. Besides, all the good men are taken.”

“I think you look nice.”

“Thanks. Speaking of good men, how’s your love life? Didn’t I hear you were thinkin’ of gettin’ married a while back?”

“That’s old news,” Lillie said flatly. “It didn’t work out.”

“Well, you always have your career,” Helen offered.

That smarted. “Not exactly. I quit my job.”

“Uh-oh. Does Darla Sue know?”

“No. I didn’t see any reason to mention it right away, considering all the other problems she’s facing. I’ll find work locally before I tell her.”

From the kitchen came a shouted “You can have my job!”

Lillie laughed. “Sorry, Rosie, I’m a terrible cook. You’re stuck, at least till I can convince Gram her hair doesn’t look funny.”

She made another trip to the dirty-dish cart. It had been years since she’d helped out in the café like this and she wasn’t as adroit as she’d once been. When she finished scooping refuse and turned, she realized she was sporting a smear of the restaurant’s trademark red-eye gravy across the front of her formerly pristine pink blouse.

“Oh, yuck.” She grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at the stain, knowing the grease mark was probably already permanent.

The bell over the front door tinkled. She looked up from her cleaning project and saw a man entering. His leather jacket made him look like a cross between a member of a biker gang and a handsome, intriguing World War II fighter pilot. She’d opened her mouth to tell him politely that they were about to close when Helen elbowed her.

“That’s him,” the waitress hissed. “The preacher I told you about. His name’s James something-or-other.” She paused and sighed. “Poor man. He looks really beat.”

“And hungry,” Lillie added, noting the little lines of stress creasing his forehead above dark eyebrows and warm brown eyes. “I suppose it would be neighborly to feed him, even this late.”

“Not unless you want Rosie to pitch a fit,” Helen gibed. “She’s more than ready to go home.”

Lillie figured it was probably better to avoid conflict so she stuck out her right hand and went to head off the hungry preacher before he could sit down.

“Hello. I’m really sorry but we’re about to close,” she said, hoping the wash rag she was holding in front of her hid the soiled spot on her blouse.

“The way my day’s been going, that figures.” He shook her hand, then glanced at his fingers, which caused her to do the same. In her haste to stop him she’d inadvertently offered a hand that still had gravy on it.

Her cheeks warmed. “Oops. Sorry. We were cleaning up.”

“That’s okay. If I was really hungry I suppose I could just lick my fingers.”

In the background, Helen giggled. The dirty look Lillie gave her only made her laugh more.

“I’m James Warner,” the man said as he wiped his hands on a paper napkin he’d snagged from one of the tables.

“Lillie Delaney.” She was about to explain her relationship to Darla Sue when he grabbed her hand a second time and pumped it eagerly, gravy and all. “So, you’re Lillie. I am glad to finally meet you. Your grandmother has nothing but good things to say about you.”

“She’s prejudiced,” Lillie said, feeling her cheeks reddening more. She wished Gram had talked about the new preacher so she’d know more about him than Helen’s notion that some folks seemed to be out to get him.

“And rightly so. Imagine! Running your own company at such a young age.”

Lillie almost choked. She pulled her hand away. “What?”

He looked puzzled. “Maybe I misunderstood.”

“I doubt it. Gram tends to adopt any version of reality that makes her happy, whether it bears close resemblance to the truth or not.”

Seeing him start to scowl she quickly added, “She doesn’t mean to lie. She just puts a spin on things. By the time she’s told a story over and over, I doubt she has a clue what the real truth of the matter is. Actually, I worked for a large insurance company.”

“I see.”

Sensing a possible ally in her quest to help her grandmother, Lillie glanced at the glass cabinet behind the counter where they kept the desserts. “Look, Pastor Warner, I see we have scads of cherry pie left. How would you like a big piece of that, with ice cream, on the house?”

“I’d love it.”

He smiled and Lillie’s blush deepened. No wonder the church was running out of room. The Front Porch Christian congregation had to be overflowing with eligible women now that James was its pastor. That thought made her cringe. The last thing she wanted was to give the impression she was making a play for him, too.

Considering the lousy marriage record of the last two generations of her family, she figured she was better off getting a dog or a cat. Matter of fact, if her apartment building in Chicago hadn’t had rules against pets, she’d have had a sweet little dog to keep her company long ago.

Leading the way between the tables, Lillie ducked behind the counter, washed her hands, then concentrated on dishing up the cherry pie, topping it with enough ice cream to nearly hide the crust.

“Whoa,” James said, unzipping his jacket and settling himself on a stool. “That’s plenty.” When she put the dish in front of him he asked, “Aren’t you going to join me?”

“Yes, but not to eat.” Lillie leaned a hip against the opposite side of the counter and struck a nonchalant pose. “Gram made fried pies and insisted I eat a whole one this afternoon. That is seriously heavy food. I may never be hungry again.”

James laughed. “Okay. But you look like a lady with something on your mind. Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk while I eat?”

“I’ll stand, thanks. But I would like to ask you about my grandmother.”

“Sure. Just a sec.” He bowed his head and murmured a blessing on his food.

Lillie felt more ill at ease than she had since puberty. How could she have forgotten the practice of saying grace? Darla Sue always used to insist upon it at mealtime when she was little, even though Grandpa Max refused to participate. She supposed, given their strained home life, Darla Sue had considered herself lucky that Max was there at all. What a sad existence.

Looking at James, Lillie was struck by the openness of his expression, the kindness in his dark eyes as he said, “Okay. Shoot. What’s bothering you? I’ll be glad to help if I can.”

“Do you know about my grandfather?” Lillie asked.

“In what regard?” He forked a large bite of pie into his mouth and waited for her to answer.

Good. The man wasn’t the kind to carry tales. That made Lillie more inclined to confide in him. “According to Gram, Max has run off with a floozy. Is that true?”

To James’s credit he didn’t strangle. He did, however, cough into his napkin. “I wouldn’t put it quite that way. Since Miss Darla obviously told you about her problems, I won’t be breaking a confidence if I answer. Yes, he did leave. And with a woman.”

“A member of your congregation?”

“Unfortunately.” His eyebrows arched and Lillie noticed that there was a little gray in them, the same as that peppering his dark hair at the temples.

“I take it she’s another senior citizen?”

“Um, no. I think Gloria’s about forty, forty-five.”

Lillie gasped. “Whew!”

“My sentiments exactly,” James said. “It’s a touchy situation.”

“I suppose I should ask if you know if Max is okay but I can’t say he and I bonded the way Gram and I did. He never liked me much and he didn’t bother to hide his feelings.”

“That’s too bad,” James said.

“Yes, it is. No matter how hard I tried I don’t think I ever managed to please him.” She decided to change the subject rather than dwell on past unpleasantness. “So, how’s the pie?”

“Great. Did you bake it?”

Lillie gave a nervous laugh. “Me? Not hardly. You’ve seen the full extent of my talent in the kitchen. I can scoop ice cream and cut pie. Period.”

“You’re not a practicing Southern Christian like your grandmother?”

The question was delivered so deadpan Lillie almost missed the inside joke. The twinkle in his eye gave him away and she chuckled. “Oh, I get it. You mean, because of all the social eating they do. I used to go to church with Gram when I was younger but I haven’t attended services in a long time. Guess none of the dinner-on-the-ground genes were passed on to me. I don’t even own a casserole dish or a Crock-Pot.”

“You’re a lost soul, aren’t you?”

“Not literally, if that’s what you’re fishing for. I went forward at a revival when I was thirteen.” She decided not to expound on her lack of recent churchgoing.

“Glad to hear it.” James continued to enjoy his pie. “So, what can I do for you? Is your grandmother grieving? I haven’t been able to convince her to talk to me since Max left. I’ve stopped by several times in the past few weeks but she won’t even let me in the house.”

“Actually, she seems more upbeat than she has for years. What I’m worried about is her mind. I think she’s out of touch with reality.”

“In what way?”

“Well, for starters, she’s letting a bad hair day keep her from coming to work and that’s not at all like her.”

“I see. Will you be staying long? If so, you might want to take her to the doctor for a checkup. You know, make sure she’s mentally and physically sound.”

Lillie nodded. “I’d thought of that. Actually, I was planning to move back to Gumption for good.”

His head snapped up and his eyes seemed to brighten.

“Wonderful! Darla Sue will be thrilled. What did she say when you told her?”

“I haven’t told her. Not yet.” Lillie made a dour face in spite of the smile the preacher was beaming at her. “I quit my job when I left Chicago. Gram isn’t going to like hearing that. She’s always had a really strong work ethic.”

“Except lately,” James observed with a nod toward the kitchen. “I know she’s playing hooky. That was one of the reasons I stopped by this evening. I’d heard you were back in town and I thought…”

“You didn’t come here to eat? You took free pie under false pretenses? What kind of preacher are you?”

“Oh, I’m a hungry one,” he answered with a grin. “But I could have grabbed a quick meal at the sandwich shop. I came here to see if I could find out how Darla Sue was really doing. I was afraid she might be putting on a brave front for my benefit.”

“I don’t think so. Except for her hair, she seemed fine when I showed up on her doorstep this afternoon.”

“Then we can probably stop worrying about her and concentrate on praying for your grandfather.”

Lillie made another face. “You can pray for Max if you want to but not me. And while you’re at it, you might as well say a few words for my father. Turns out he was just as big a skunk as my granddad is.”




Chapter Three


James wondered what he should have said to Lillie after her telling outburst. There were few instances since his ordination when he’d felt so unable to offer words of wisdom. Then again, he hadn’t been a member of the clergy for nearly as long as his age would indicate.

Walking down Third Street toward the church parking lot where he’d left his motorcycle, he studied the old buildings on the square. Glow from the streetlights muted their flaws and made them seem sturdier, but they were still clearly antiquated.

Sadly, that was true of his church, too. Gumption Front Porch Christian was so small it was a wonder the congregation hadn’t sold that sanctuary and moved on long ago. Yes, it had its namesake front porch and a quaintly charming stone facade but it lacked many necessary elements, not the least of which was adequate on-site parking.

Inside, wooden pews that bore the patina of age barely provided enough room for the regulars to squeeze in. Add a few visitors and they had to pull folding chairs out of the Sunday-school rooms and place them in the aisle to accommodate everyone.

Not only was that solution awkward, it was unsafe. If folks got up before the end of the service, there was a good chance they’d trip and fall before they reached the exits. Heaven forbid, literally, they ever had an emergency that required quick evacuation. Something had to be done, and soon.

He gave a tuneless whistle. Sudden rustling in a nearby tree led his gaze upward even though it was almost too dark to see. By approaching the tree trunk and leaning left, he was able to peer through the clusters of tiny white blossoms and catch a glimpse of what had drawn his attention. Two bright eyes reflected the dim light enough for him to tell that the creature definitely wasn’t a squirrel. Judging by the pansylike face and pitiful mewing, it was a kitten. A very young kitten.

James wasn’t particularly fond of cats. As far as he was concerned their place was in a barn, catching mice, not underfoot in a house. It was, however, one of God’s creatures. And he was a servant of the Lord. Therefore, he assumed it was his duty to either affect a rescue or find someone who would.

Craning his neck to watch the kitten, he tried to recall how long it had been since he’d shinnied up a tree. Twenty years? Probably. Except for his motorcycle riding he’d never been as athletic as most boys. While they’d been out playing baseball and football, he’d been doing his homework or reading his dad’s copy of the Wall Street Journal.

That had prepared him for his initially successful foray into the business world but it hadn’t satisfied his soul or equipped him to deal with the perfidy of his partners or the infidelity of his late wife, which was why he’d eventually chucked his old life and escaped to the Ozarks.

He smiled. He could identify with Lillie Delaney’s decision to quit her job and head for the hills. Although Gumption hadn’t been his point of origin, it had served the same purpose. He, too, had come here to the South to start over. Perhaps he should have told her so. Then again, it was his job to listen and offer wise counsel, not spout off about his own life history the first chance he got.

Approaching the base of the tree, he reached up as far as he could. The frightened kitten hissed and backed away, trembling so badly that some of the tiny flower petals around it shook loose and drifted down.

“Come on, cat,” he cajoled, wiggling his fingers. “Don’t you know a friend when you see one?”

Obviously, the answer was no.

James withdrew, planning his next move as he brushed the shed blossoms off his jacket. He looked around. Few good citizens of Gumption were on the street at this time of night and those who were were judiciously avoiding eye contact. Either they knew there was a cat stuck in the tree or they still considered him an outsider, even after nearly a year. Either was possible. Both were likely.

If he were a hungry, scared animal, what would bring him to his rescuer? Food. He needed a big handful of something cats found irresistible.

It was quicker and easier to backtrack to DD’s than to fire up his bike, ride home and raid his refrigerator.

Lillie had locked the front door when she’d let him out of the café so he circled around back. That door, too, was locked, but at least there was a porch light to see by.

Unwilling to give up so easily, James took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, then cautiously lifted the top of the battered green Dumpster that sat against the brick wall. The fumes that instantly filled his nostrils were so strong, so disgusting, he dropped the lid with a bang.

Gasping, he turned away, grabbed a deep breath, held it and tried again. Judging by the smell, there were fish scraps in this garbage bin old enough to vote!

He was gingerly lifting aside a crumpled cardboard box when someone directly behind him said, “I don’t believe it,” and startled him so much he lost his hold on the lid once again. It thwacked him on the forearm before he could jump clear.

He whirled, uttering a heartfelt “Ow!” There stood Lillie Delaney, arms folded across her chest, giving him a look that intimated she’d caught him in the middle of a robbery. Then the corners of her mouth started to twitch and lift.

“Hello, again,” she said, half laughing. “If you were that hungry, why didn’t you ask for a second piece of pie?”

“I’m not doing this for myself,” James explained. “It’s for the cat.”

She scanned the compacted gravel at his feet, then bent to peer behind the Dumpster. “What cat?”

“The one in the tree by the church.” He couldn’t help grinning back at her in spite of the pain in his forearm. “It’s a long story.” He started to rub his smarting arm, then realized how dirty he’d gotten and stopped. “Could you spare a paper towel? I’d like to clean up.”

She stepped out of the doorway and held the screen for him. “Go on in and use the restroom. I’ll wait for you.”

“Thanks.”

He made short work of scrubbing himself clean, rejoined her, and watched her secure the back door with a key as he put his jacket back on.

“I was looking for some tasty tidbit to use to lure a kitten out of a tree,” he explained. “I was going to ask you for some scraps but the door was locked and I figured…”

“You figured a little Dumpster diving was called for. I see. And what were you going to do if your cat wouldn’t come down for a treat?”

“Hey, it’s not my cat.”

“Finders keepers,” Lillie taunted.

James fell into step beside her as she started down the sidewalk. “I didn’t exactly find it,” he argued. “It found me. It’s not my fault God gave Adam dominion over all the animals.”

“You think that command rubbed off on you?”

“Sure, why not? I just don’t know much about cats.”



Lillie laughed. “Well, you won’t often see their skeletons in trees. Come on. Show me this kitty you can’t handle. Gram has owned more cats than I can count over the years. I’ve always had a way with them.”

Lillie understood the problem before she even saw the kitten. It had instinctively clambered up the tree and was now too frightened to descend. Yes, it would probably eventually get hungry enough to come down on its own but temperatures were still dropping into the forties or lower every night and she hated to let it suffer needlessly.

Therefore, either she or the preacher was going to have to leave the ground in order to stage a rescue. She sincerely hoped it was going to be him.

They stood together beneath the tree and studied the situation. To Lillie’s dismay the trunk was barely six inches in diameter. Worse, it was a Bradford pear, an ornamental tree noted for its brittle nature.

She made a face. “Rats.”

“No, I think it’s a cat,” James quipped.

She gave him a cynical look. “We’ll need a ladder.”

“Why? If you can’t get him to come down I could just give you a little boost and…No?”

“No. Neither of us should climb that tree. Those branches won’t support us.” She saw him glance at her figure, then quickly look away without comment. If he thought she was too hefty, he was good at hiding his opinion.

“I mean,” Lillie said, “this kind of tree is pretty, especially when it blooms in the spring, like now, but it’s also notorious for breakage. I wouldn’t dream of trusting it to hold either of us.”

“Oh.”

“So, do you have a ladder?”

“I think there’s one in the church basement. Wait here. I’ll go see.”

“Bring a flashlight, too,” she called after him.

“Right.”

Watching him jog away toward the old rock church, she was taken by how well he moved—for an older guy. He must be, what, forty? Maybe forty-five, she concluded, which made him about ten years older than she was. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t James Warner’s mature good looks or even his calling that had impressed her. It was his caring heart. Most of the men she knew would have walked right on by the poor kitten and never even considered rescuing it.

Making good use of her time while she waited for the ladder, Lillie began to speak to the animal softly, coaxingly, calmly. The kitten’s squeaky pleas mellowed. Soon it was answering her voice with a mew that seemed to imply trust and affinity.

Lillie stood close to the tree trunk. It was girdled by several rings of even holes, evidence that a woodpecker had been visiting to clear it of accessible insects.

She extended her arm slowly, deliberately, and rested her hand in the joint of the lowest limb as she continued a high-pitched murmur. “Good kitty. That’s a sweet baby.”

Whiskers tickled her fingertips. One quick grab that missed and she’d undo the trust she’d established. Forcing herself to be patient, she waited till she felt the kitten rub against her hand, then gently curled her fingers around its tiny body and lifted it down.

“What a good baby,” she cooed, holding and cuddling it. “Your uncle James is going to be so proud of you.”

Speaking of which…She squinted toward the church. Some of the lights in the rear were on so she knew he was inside. Surely he should have located the ladder and hauled it out by now. What could be keeping him?



James stood amid the carnage and stared. Whoever had ransacked the church basement and smashed the nativity figures had done so deliberately. There was no way the damage had been accidental. It was too widespread.

A shadow darkened the doorway at the top of the stairs. He tensed. “Who is it?”

“Me,” Lillie said. “What are you doing down there—building a ladder from scratch?”

“No.” He heard the steps creak. “Stop! Don’t come down here. I’m coming up.”

“Okay. You don’t have to yell at me.”

He quickly joined her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I was just upset. You won’t believe what I found.”

She had continued to cuddle the gray-and-white striped kitten. Now, she smiled and held it up as he joined her at the top of the stairs. “You won’t believe what I found, either. Look. It came to me.”

“Terrific.” He brushed past her and headed down the hall.

Lillie followed. “Well, you might act a little pleased. At least we won’t have to risk life and limb to rescue it.”

“Yeah, well, I have other things on my mind right now. Somebody has been fooling with the storage in the basement and made a real mess.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I’m calling the cops.”

“Wait. I saw a big motorcycle parked out back. Maybe whoever broke into the church rode that and we should disable it so they can’t get away.”

“Not everybody who rides a bike is dangerous. The Harley’s mine.” He sensed that she’d stopped behind him in the hallway so he ordered, “Stay with me. Like you said, we’re not sure the vandals are gone. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

“Or Fang, either.”

“Fang?” James knew he was scowling at her and the kitten but he allowed himself the momentary expression of disdain. “You named that Fang?”

Lillie giggled. “Sure. Why not?” She sobered. “Sorry. I know you’re in no mood for jokes. And I apologize for overreacting about the motorcycle. Go ahead and make your call. We’ll be right behind you.”

James paused and let his gaze travel over her. “Try not to move around too much or we’ll have to vacuum this place. Your hair and clothes are full of those little white flower petals and you’re shedding them all over everything.”



The local sheriff had lived in that area his whole life. Therefore, he and Lillie were well acquainted. She was sitting outside on the concrete steps to the sanctuary, the kitten napping cozily inside the front of her pink nylon jacket, when he arrived.

She wasn’t surprised to see him but she was a little taken aback that there was now so much of him. Caleb Frost was twice the man he used to be and a goodly portion of him lapped over his belt in a jiggling roll.

She smiled. “Hey, Caleb.”

“Well, well, little Miss Lillie. I heard you was back. Finally got your fill of Chicago, eh?”

“Something like that.” She got to her feet so she could speak more quietly, more privately, taking care to secure the kitten as she moved. “Tell me, Caleb. What’s going on around here? We never used to have trouble like this in Gumption.”

“Times change,” the lawman said. He eyed the church. “You meet the new preacher?”

“Yes. He seems okay. Why?”

“Nothin’. Just seems a tad odd that nobody had any problems with this church, or any other, till he showed up.”

“He must have come with credentials and good recommendations. The pastoral search committee would never have hired him otherwise.”

“That’s true I guess.” He snorted. “’Course, I don’t belong to this particular church so I can’t say for certain.”

“It’s not the name over the door that matters and you know it, Caleb.”

He guffawed. Lillie wouldn’t have been surprised to see him slap his knee, too.

“You have growed up, haven’t you, missy? Well, just you remember, folks around here take care of their own. Been doin’ it for more years than you’ve been on this earth.”

“Like Annabelle Pike, you mean?” Lillie straightened and stood tall with the remembrance of her local historical idol. It had been a long time since she’d thought of Annabelle’s bravery back in 1838 and the memory strengthened her. If that pioneer woman could face down the whole U.S. Army to save the life of a Cherokee baby she’d rescued from the Trail of Tears, Lillie could certainly stand up to the likes of Caleb Frost.

The portly sheriff chose to disregard her antagonistic attitude. “I hear the preacher’s got another problem. Best be gettin’ inside to see about it before he gripes to the city council.” He touched the brim of his cap and gave as much of a bow as his pendulous gut would permit. “Evening, Miss Lillie.”

She waited until he’d turned his back and entered the church before she gave in to the childish urge to make a face and stick out her tongue at him.



James was sitting behind his desk when Lillie entered the office a half hour later. “I just saw Caleb leave,” she said. “What did he say?”

“Same thing he said when the church and my Harley were egged a few weeks ago. He’s sure I did something to tick somebody off.” James raked his fingers through his hair. “I wish I knew if he was right.”

“Even if he is, it’s not your fault. I’m sure that whatever you said or did, you had the right motives.”

“Thanks.”

“I understand this congregation has grown a lot since you became its pastor.”

“It has. And we really do need bigger facilities, which is why we’re in the process of working up plans for a whole new building. I suspect my problems may be because of that.”

“There are always folks who resist change, but if this church is really too small, it’s your duty to enlarge it, right?”

“That was my conclusion.”

“Then you have nothing to blame yourself for. You can’t please everybody.” She smiled. “And certainly not in a small town like Gumption. Like they say, stub your toe once around here and a dozen people fall down.”

James had to smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Gram used to tell me that if I sneezed, a hundred folks would say, ‘God bless you,’ before the dust had settled. That used to strike me as a drawback but now I sort of see it as a comfort.”

“It should be.”

Still carrying the kitten, this time on the outside of her jacket, she slowly strolled around the room. “You’ve cleaned up this office nicely. I used to come to youth group here on Saturdays and I remember all the stacks of books and paper Brother Smallwood had piled everywhere. It was a real mess.”

“I moved a lot of that stuff to the basement but I kept it for the day when the church has its own library. That’s just one more reason why we need a larger building.”

“I suppose it will be expensive.”

“God will provide.”

James wasn’t about to admit that the idea of borrowing all that money for the building project occasionally gave him pause, in spite of the hours of prayer and discussion he and his deacons and trustees had dedicated to the decision. He really did believe God was in control. Looking back, the handiwork of the Lord was easy to see. Looking forward, however, it was a little more difficult to be positive you were on the right track.

He huffed. Who was he kidding? It was a lot more difficult.

Lillie paused and zeroed in on a framed diploma hanging on the far wall. “Wow. Massachusetts? I’m impressed. You actually graduated from a seminary there?”

“Yes.” James joined her, his hands stuffed nonchalantly into the pockets of his jeans. “I wasn’t raised in the church like a lot of people are. When I finally gave my life to the Lord I wanted to do it right, so I decided to go to school to learn about the Bible. One thing led to another and here I am.”

“Amazing.” Lillie read aloud from the certificate. “James Robert Warner.”

“That’s me.” To his consternation, she began to giggle. “What’s so funny?”

“You really don’t know?” Chuckling, Lillie turned to face him. A wide grin split her face and made her blue eyes sparkle with delight.

“Know what?” Of all the reactions he’d had to his higher education, hers was the strangest. He couldn’t imagine that she disapproved, yet she certainly wasn’t taking his hard-won ordination seriously.

“You’ve missed a great opportunity here,” she said, obviously struggling to keep from breaking up as she spoke.

“I have?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t go by Brother James or Brother Warner.”

“I shouldn’t?”

“No.” A chortle shook her shoulders and roused the kitten, so she absently scratched it behind the ears. “This may not be Georgia or Louisiana but it’s still the South,” she said. “If you really want to fit in around here you have to start calling yourself Brother Jim Bob!”

His eyebrow arched. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Yes. And no. In case you haven’t noticed, most of us have two first names.”

“Like Darla Sue?” He paused, smiling. “So, what’s your other name?”

“Just Lillie.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You started this. Come on. If you don’t fess up I’ll keep asking around until somebody tells me. What’s your middle name, Miss Lillie?”

She pulled a face. “I forget.”

He crossed his arms and shook his head. “Uh-uh. Not good enough. Shall I guess? Sue? Lynn? Mary?”

“Much worse than that,” she said with resignation. “My mother was a flower lover. She couldn’t decide which of four names to use so she tagged me with all of them. I’m officially Lillie Rose Iris Daisy Delaney.”

Grinning, James was incredulous. “You have to be joking.”

She snorted derisively. “I wish I was. You’d be doing me a big favor if you didn’t use any of them. Okay?”

“Okay. As long as you don’t start calling me Jim Bob and inspire everybody else to do it, too.”

She stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

As James took it to shake on their agreement, he was struck by how soft her skin was, how lovely she looked with those loose flower petals dusting her silky light brown hair.

He quickly pulled away. The last thing he intended to let himself do was admire another woman. He’d been married once and had experienced the agony of his wife’s disloyalty and their subsequent divorce. When she had died unexpectedly, he had still grieved, yet his mind was made up. Never again would he trust like that, love like that. It had hurt too much.

Besides, he reminded himself, he had work to do for the Lord. That was all he needed or wanted. His congregation was the only family he required and his life was already complete. Period.

Looking at Lillie and seeing her guileless smile, he wondered why, for the first time in years, he was tempted to question that sensible conclusion.




Chapter Four


Lillie had ended up taking Fang home to Darla Sue’s with her because James had refused to consider himself permanently responsible for the kitten. She desperately needed a confidante so she decided to phone Chancy Boyd, an old friend who ran an antique shop in nearby Serenity.

“Lillie! Is that really you? It’s great to hear from you after all this time,” Chancy said. “Where are you staying? Are you moving back or just visiting?”

Lillie laughed. “It’s good to hear your voice, too, Chancy. I’m here for keeps. I’ll be staying with Gram for the time being. Her number’s in the book but if you can’t reach me there, feel free to call the café or stop in some time and we’ll visit. Looks like I’m going to be spending a lot of time there, at least for a while.”

“I can’t believe it’s really you. Wait till I tell Nate.”

“Who’s Nate?”

Chancy giggled. “My gorgeous new husband. I’m Chancy Collins now.”

“Congratulations!” Lille was happy for her friend but a bit envious, too. “I’m never getting married. You won’t believe what’s happened here. Grandpa ran off with another woman. A younger one. Gram is fit to be tied and I don’t blame her.”

“Wow, you really stepped into a mess, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the half of it,” Lillie said with a shake of her head. “I haven’t told Gram I’m here for keeps and I’ve already gotten stuck with an extra cat—a kitten to be exact. I hope she’s not going to mind my bringing it home with me. If I’m cautious, maybe she won’t notice.”

That made her friend giggle. “Oh, dear. How senile is she? I mean, wouldn’t most people notice?”

“Not as easily when they already have a houseful of cats,” Lillie explained. “At least I hope not. I’m standing here in the kitchen, talking to you, and there’s a calico on the chair, an orange tabby rubbing against my leg and three more gray-and-white ones sleeping in the corner by their food dishes.”

“You need a dog,” Chancy teased. “Nate’s grandparents have a wonderful one.”

“Well, right now I seem to be the proud owner of a really cute kitten and that’s enough, thanks.” She sighed. “It truly is good to hear your voice. I’ve missed living close enough to get together with you when I need a pal.”

“Call anytime. Honest. Or stop by the shop when you get over this way. It’s not far. Nate’s building us a house on the Collins farm but until it’s done we’re still living in the apartment over the shop, so I’m always here.”

“It’s a deal. Well, I’d better go. The kitten is getting restless and I’m not sure where Gram is. I want to introduce him to the older cats before she has a chance to tell me they won’t get along.”

“Will they?”

“I think so. All of Gram’s cats have been altered so there shouldn’t be any territorial squabbles. I’m hoping one of the old mama cats will adopt this baby and protect it. I’ll keep you posted. And look for me soon. I’ll do my best to get over your way so we can really visit.”

“Sounds wonderful. Take care.”

“You, too. Bye.”

Putting her cell phone into her pocket, Lillie placed the kitten on the floor and watched. The other cats accepted the baby with curiosity, yet few hisses or arched backs. Lillie relaxed. If her grandmother took to the new resident as well as her house cats had, all would be well.

Trying to slip the orphan cat into Darla’s horde without question didn’t bother Lillie nearly as much as the fact that her grandmother had continued to treat her as if she’d never been away.

Lillie decided it was time for a serious discussion. She found her grandmother in the living room, sat down beside her on the sofa and brought up the subject of her permanent relocation.

“I’ve decided to move back to Gumption,” she announced, taking Darla Sue’s hand so she couldn’t use the TV remote and create too much of a distraction.

The older woman blinked and then smiled. “’Bout time. What took you so long?”

“I thought I was happy in the city.”

“Bah! You might of fooled yourself but you didn’t fool me. You never did belong in Chicago.” She poked a finger under the elastic edging of the shower cap to scratch her scalp. “All a body needs is right here. I’ve always known that.”

“Then why didn’t you try to stop me from leaving?”

“I couldn’t make a choice like that for you. If you hadn’t left, you might have spent your whole life wonderin’ if you’d missed something. Now you know you didn’t. And you’ll be more content right here.”

“I guess that’s true,” Lillie agreed. “I’ll need to find a new job and a place to live, though.” She was taken aback when Darla Sue’s head snapped up, her eyes growing suspiciously moist.

“You’ve already got both, girl.”

Lillie shook her head soberly. “I know you’d let me stay with you as long as I wanted and work at the café for a while but that’s not fair to you.”

“What’s not fair?” Her lower lip had begun to tremble though she’d lifted her chin defiantly. “If I wasn’t tickled pink to have you here I’d say so. And as for the restaurant, it can use some younger blood.” The slump of her shoulders made her look every one of her seventy-plus years. “I’m tired, honey. Wrung out. It’s not just your grandpa’s shenanigans that’s done it, either. I’ve worked hard all my life and I need a little break. I thought, with you back home, I’d be able to rest a tad.”

“You can. I didn’t mean I wouldn’t help you out. I just thought…”

“Thought what? That I’d want my café to pass to anybody but you?”

“Well, you could always sell it and retire on the profits you earned.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“So you could take it easy?” Lillie’s brow furrowed. “I get the feeling I’m missing something here. What is it you’d like to see happen?”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/valerie-hansen/a-treasure-of-the-heart/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.