by Terri Reed
Trista glanced around noting familiar faces. Some she knew by name, others just in passing. Detective Fletcher and his wife sat off to her right. Kelly’s assistant, Eric, sat behind them with his girlfriend Samantha Harcourt. Off to her left sat the Noble clan. She also saw the woman she’d seen in the sanctuary the last time she’d been here.
A small group of people rose and went to the musical instruments on the stage. Within moments music filled the church. Trista listened, letting the words and the melodies run through her, stirring her spirit and refreshing her soul.
When the music ended, Reverend Fraser walked out to the podium. His brown eyes, behind wire-rimmed glasses, touched briefly on Trista before he began speaking. His voice was pleasant to listen to. He had a very natural and unassuming way about him. He spoke about giving thanks for everything which was an appropriate message considering Thanksgiving was just a little over a week away.
Trista enjoyed the commentaries and the little jokes the Reverend interspersed into his sermon. When he was done and the music once again filled the church, Trista realized she hadn’t once felt lost or confused. And she was thankful for her life, her son. No matter what else had happened or would happen, she would always give thanks for her baby.
As the service let out and people began to fill the aisles, Trista maneuvered so she was behind Lynda as they filed out of the sanctuary.
Trista leaned in close to whisper, “Meet me in the ladies’ room.”
Lynda gave a barely perceivable nod. A few minutes later Trista stood in the ante-chamber of the women’s lounge. Plush small sofas and armchairs sat across from a mirrored wall with hand lotion dispensers and tissue boxes on the counter that ran along the wall underneath the mirror.
Lynda came in like a scared rabbit, held her finger to her lips before checking to see that there was no one else in the restroom. She hurried over to Trista and took her hand. “I’m so glad to see you. I didn’t know you attended our church.”
“This is my first time here.”
Lynda smiled. “Welcome, then.”
“Would you be willing to meet with Pastor Scott?”
Lynda’s eyes grew big. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want him to think badly of me or Douglas.”
Kind of hard not to think badly of Douglas, Trista thought but refrained from saying aloud. “He’s not going to judge you. He only wants to help.”
“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt,” Lynda stated. “Would you be there?”
“If you’d like me to.”
“I would.” Lynda edged toward the door. “Thursday, noon, at the library?”
“I’m sure that would be fine.”
“Okay, then,” Lynda murmured before slipping out the door.
Trista sighed with relief. Giving Lynda a few moments head start, Trista went in search of her son. She found Aidan and Kelly still in the nursery.
“How did he do?” Trista asked.
Kelly smiled as she wiped down a toy with a cleaning rag. “He did great. He’s so much fun.” Kelly put the toy away and picked up another. “How about you? Did you enjoy the service?”
Trista nodded. More than she’d expected. “Very much.” She picked up Aidan and snuggled him close.
“What are your plans today?” Kelly asked.
“I brought home some work to do while Aidan takes his nap. Then I thought I’d take him to the park if the weather holds.”
“That sounds fun,” Scott said as he came into the room. “Would you care for some company?”
Trista ignored the amused glint in Kelly’s gaze as she turned to greet Scott. His easy smile and gentle eyes made her heart sputter. She’d enjoyed spending time with him the other day when Kevin had blown off their appointment. Besides, she decided, it’d be nice to have the company. “That would be great. He’ll be up about three.”
“Perfect.” Scott grinned. “I’ll come by your place.”
“Okay.”
He waved and left.
“Another nondate?”
Trista slanted a glance to her sister-in-law. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
Chapter Eight
A knock at the front door jolted Trista’s concentration from the legal brief in front of her. She glanced at the oak wall clock. Scott was early. Bubbles of anticipation rose heating her cheeks.
She unfolded herself from the couch, checked her hair in the mirror on the wall and went to the door. She peered through the peephole expecting to see Scott.
Instead, her ex-husband, Kevin, stood there. The bubbles burst with stinging pops.
His long, London Fog coat showed no signs of the weather outside and his black hair was perfectly in place. Tall and lean, Kevin always dressed impeccably, a trait he’d learned from his wealthy parents. Appearances were everything to the Hughes family.
She leaned forward against the hard wood of the door. Annoyance tightened her chest. If she ignored him, would he go away? He knocked again and she jumped back.
Afraid that his banging would wake Aidan, she yanked the door open.
“Hi, babe,” Kevin said, his charming, boyish grin in place.
Once she’d loved that smile, now, thank goodness, it did nothing for her. “Kevin, what are you doing here?”
“Are you going to invite me in?”
Rancor sharpened her voice. “No.”
His brown eyes darkened. “I just want to talk.” He held out his hand palm up. “Honest.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “About what?”
“Us.”
Her stomach clenched tight as if she’d just received a kick in the gut. “There is no us. You walked out.” She gritted her teeth and added, “Left me for another woman.”
“Can I at least explain?”
His saccharine-sweet tone sent warning bells banging in her head like the sound of a gavel hitting the judge’s bench. He’d used that tone every time he wanted his way. “I don’t need to hear your excuses.”
A door opened down the hall. “I’d rather not have your neighbors know our business,” he said and moved closer.
With a sigh of resigned frustration because she, too, didn’t want to air her dirty laundry, she widened the door and stepped back. Kevin strode in, his Italian loafers making no noise on the carpet. His expression as he glanced around was one of distaste. “Interesting place.”
Hanging on to her rising temper, Trista said, “So why did you come here, Kevin?”
He faced her, his dark eyes warm and his smile coaxing. “I miss you. I miss us.”
Bile rose in her throat. “Until the next woman catches your fancy?” Trista shook her head. “We’ve been down that road.”
“I promise this time will be different. I’m different,” he assured her as he stepped closer.
The familiar scent of his aftershave burned her nose. “Where were you on Tuesday?”
His dark eyebrows dipped together. “Tuesday?”
She waved away his question with an impatient gesture. There was no point in calling him on standing up her and Scott. “Forget it.”
“Don’t you miss us? Miss the fun we had?” He swept his arm wide. “You can’t enjoy living like this. If you come back to me, I’ll buy a big house with a garden. I know you love gardens.”
“I don’t—” Knowing he wouldn’t understand that her decision wasn’t about material things, she said, “Did you really come here to try to get back with me?”
“Yes. You’re my wife.”
She clenched her fist. “No. I’m your ex-wife. You divorced me, remember?”
“I remember,” he replied.
“You haven’t once asked about Aidan,” she stated.
For a moment his expression went blank and then realization hit. “My son. Where is he?”
“Sleeping.” She glanced at the clock. Aidan would wake up soon and Scott would arrive shortly after. She could wake Aidan if Kevin showed some interest but the man hadn’t even thought about his child, so why should she bother?
“Kevin, you need to go now.”
“Let me take you out. Like old times,” he said.
Incredible. Why hadn’t she realized how thick in the head he was sooner? “No. Aidan will be awake soon.”
He studied her with a speculative gleam. “He’s very important to you?”
Duh? “Yes. He’s everything to me. And he should be to you. You’re his father.”
“That’s true,” he murmured.
She didn’t like the way his gaze sharpened. He may be thick in some ways but he was also smart. “Look, Kevin. I don’t know what you hoped to accomplish today, but Aidan and I have plans. So I’d like it if you left now.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
Exasperation beat at her temple. “That wouldn’t—”
A knock interrupted her. Oh, no! Scott. Could this day get any worse?
Bracing herself, she opened the door. Scott was a welcome and calming sight. His blond hair was wind tossed and his checks ruddy from the cold. He wore a big parka, jeans and snow boots.
“Hi, come in,” she said.
He grinned. “Hope you’re ready to play…” He stopped as he saw Kevin, who was sporting a look of outrage.
“Scott, this is my ex-husband, Kevin Hughes. Kevin, Scott…Pastor Scott Crosby.”
Stiffly, Scott extended his hand. “Hello.”
Kevin’s thunderous expression shifted and became probing. He shook Scott’s hand. “A pastor? Well, that’s good timing.”
Trista frowned as unease tickled the hair at her nape. “Kevin was just leaving.”
Kevin shook his head and gave her an indulgent smile. “No, I was trying to convince you to give our marriage another chance.” He turned to Scott. “So, Pastor, maybe you can convince Trista not to hold the past against me. You do believe in the sanctity of marriage, don’t you?”
Trista wanted to scream. How dare Kevin talk about the sanctity of marriage when he’d done everything he could to destroy their marriage.
“Of course, I do,” Scott replied woodenly.
She heard a cry from the bedroom. Aidan waking from his nap. Trista was torn between getting Aidan up and staying to make sure Kevin left.
Kevin stepped close and kissed her cheek. She recoiled at his touch. She didn’t want his kisses or his presence in her life.
“I’ll be in touch,” he stated and left.
Trista stared at the closed door. “Unbelievable.” She turned her gaze to Scott. The strange, remote expression on his face confused her. “I’m sorry about that.”
“He’s right, you know. You should give your marriage another chance. For Aidan’s sake.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
He sighed. “I have to advocate for the union that you both committed to when you married.”
Astounded by his statement she raised her eyebrows. “I gave Kevin plenty of chances before Aidan was born. I naively thought a child would make a difference. He didn’t. I’m not going through all that again.”
Aidan cried out again, obviously wanting to be rescued from his crib.
“Can we discuss this another time?” she asked as she headed toward the hall.
“I better go.”
She stopped in her tracks. “What? Why?”
His eyes reflected a troubled light. “I’m a pastor, Trista. I can’t…I mean, I have to do what’s right in the sight of God.”
“And you leaving is the right thing to do?”
“Yes. You need to pray about this situation. Let God guide you.” He backed toward the door. “I hope I’ll see you next Sunday at church.” Then he left.
Stunned and confused, Trista dropped her head into her palm. She wasn’t sure if she were more angry that Kevin had barged into her life or that Scott had just abandoned her.
Feeling alone and confused, she decided she had no business expecting anything from Scott.
As he stated, he was her pastor, nothing more.
Later that night, Scott sat in his small one-bedroom apartment staring out the living room window. Snow stuck to the edges of the glass and dusted the oak trees outside.
Despite his best intentions, he hadn’t done a very good job of controlling his emotions or his attraction to Trista.
When she’d shown up at church, his heart had bounced so hard he was sure it would hit the ceiling. She’d looked so lovely in her navy skirt, high boots and white sweater. Her hair had been bound back in a clip at the base of her graceful neck.
He’d impulsively invited himself to the park with her, telling himself it would be an opportunity to help her, but his motivation was far less altruistic. He simply enjoyed being with her and Aidan.
But she was off-limits. He was a pastor, and as such, needed to be an advocate for marriage. She may not be legally married now, but if there was the slightest possibility that she and Kevin could work things out, Scott had to honor and encourage them.
Regardless of his feelings for Trista.
Even though Scott couldn’t be totally objective, he hadn’t liked Kevin. The man had been too charming, too smooth. Scott had seen the possessive anger in Kevin’s eyes before he realized he could use Scott to his advantage by encouraging Scott to influence Trista and to reinforce the sanctity of marriage.
Lord, this is a strange situation I find myself in and I don’t know how to proceed. I really need some clarity.
Scott had ducked out on Trista because retreat was always his first reaction. He understood enough about human psychology to realize he found safety in retreating. But he wouldn’t be able to avoid talking to Trista for long. His feelings for her wouldn’t allow it. He really cared about her and Aidan.
He would just have to remember to be her pastor and friend. And not let himself become anything else.
“Kelly, these documents require your signature and then need to get to the courthouse this morning before the Cardinellies can adopt baby Joe. They’re in my office right now,” Pilar said as she swept into Kelly’s office and laid the papers on the desk.
Kelly picked up a pen, read the pages and then signed where appropriate. “Have Eric run them downtown.”
Pilar shook her head. “He’s interviewing a couple right now. Is Ross around? I was thinking maybe he could run over there.”
Kelly shook her head. “He’s at the hospital checking out some old records.” She heaved herself to her feet. Blood rushed to her brain. She shouldn’t have stayed seated for so long. The baby protested the movement with a nice jab of an elbow or knee. Kelly wasn’t sure which poky little body part was where. The baby tended to turn and twist a lot.
“I’ll take it over,” she said, once she regained her equilibrium.
“No, no. I’ll call a messenger service.”
Shrugging into her wool coat, Kelly smiled. “I’d like some fresh air and I’ll see if Trista’s free for lunch.”
Concern showed in Pilar’s beautiful dark, Latin eyes. “Are you sure?”
Picking up her purse and taking out her keys, Kelly nodded. “Yes. I’m not an invalid. Besides, the doctor said it was good for me to stay active.” She scooped up the documents and put them in a file folder.
Pilar moved aside to let Kelly pass. “I’ll let the Cardenillies know.”
On her way out, Kelly let the receptionist know where she was going in case Ross called. As soon as she stepped outside a cold blast of wind hit her. She ducked her head against the biting air and carefully hurried to her car.
Once inside, she cranked up the heat and the CD player. She had a CD of Mozart in because baby experts agreed that classical music stimulated the brain development of a fetus. She didn’t know if the theory was true or not, but the music soothed her.
She pulled out of the parking lot and drove at a sedate speed along the busy road leading to downtown Chestnut Grove.
The baby kicked.
“Whoa, little one. Mommy’s driving. Let’s not distract her,” she cooed aloud.
Up ahead the
road curved sharply. She pressed her foot on the brake. For a moment the pedal depressed slowly, then with a little jolt the tension disappeared. She pumped her foot on the brake, but nothing happened. Terror slammed into her with the force of an avalanche. She tried to make the turn but she was going too fast.
“Dear Jesus, help,” she cried as the back tires slid, sending the car into a sideways slide down into the ditch.
The car came to a jolting stop. The seat belt yanked painfully across Kelly’s lower abdomen. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. Sharp pain stabbed at her belly, cinching her waist and trapping her breath in her chest.
She couldn’t breathe. She fought off the wave of darkness descending but it was too strong.
“Oh, God, please…”
“Trista, there’s been an accident. Your sister-in-law has been taken to Children’s Hospital in Richmond.”
Trista stared at her boss for a moment while the words he’d spoken sank in. Harvey Benson’s gray eyes were filled with concern beneath his bushy white brows.
Her heart squeezed tight in her chest as panic and fear blurred her vision. She jumped up from her chair and hurried out the door without a word.
She rode the elevator down to the parking garage, the whole time praying that Kelly and the baby would be okay.
She sped to Richmond, thankful for the light traffic. All she could think about was Kelly and the baby.
At the hospital, she parked as close to the entrance as possible and then ran as fast as she could to the emergency doors. Once inside she headed straight to the administration desk.
“Kelly Van Zandt? She was brought in recently.”
The kindly looking older woman behind the desk hit the keys on the computer. “She’s been taken to the fifth floor for delivery.”
“Delivery?” She gasped. The baby wasn’t due for another month. Trista raced through the hospital up to the maternity ward where she again stopped at the nurses’ desk. “Kelly Van Zandt?”
“She’s in delivery. Her husband is in the waiting area,” the young blond nurse said.
Trista hurried to the waiting area. Ross sat in one of the fabric-covered chairs, his head in his hands. The room was filled with other familiar people. Pilar, with tears streaking down her checks, clung to her husband, Zach. Eric sat in the corner, his complexion pale. Reverend Fraser and his wife, Naomi, sat beside Ross.