Raspberry Kisses (The Bakery Romance Series Book 1)

by Cecelia Dowdy

  As he walked toward the church building, he knew, deep in his heart, that news about their date had somehow gotten back to Raven, and she had confronted Rhea, just as Rhea predicted.

  He shook his head, entering the building. Uncle Jesse met him in the foyer. “What are you doing here, Uncle Jesse?”

  “I know your father sometimes comes to church early to work on his sermons, so I thought I might catch him here before I went jogging at the track this morning.” He glanced around the building. “I only saw the janitor cleaning the pews, so I guess your father’s not coming here early today.” He gazed at Martin. “Congratulations on making the candidacy!” He patted Martin’s shoulder.

  “Thanks. You know how excited I was to hear that I’d been accepted.”

  “You’re one step closer to seeing your dream come true.”

  Rhea’s beautiful face popped into his mind. Not all of his dreams had come true. He still dreamed about Rhea accepting both him and his profession. Seeing her pretty, smiling face each day would be like a splash of yellow sunshine on a dark dismal day.

  Jesse leaned toward Martin, studying his face. “So, what’s going on with you?”

  “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  He glanced at his gold watch. “I don’t have to do my exercising right away.” Jesse placed his hand on his shoulder, his dark eyes full of warmth and wisdom. “Did you want to talk about it over a cup of coffee?”

  “Okay. We can talk while I cook.”

  “Cook?”

  He explained his mission this morning.

  “Won’t the food be cold by the time lunch starts?”

  “They’ll re-heat it later.” They walked toward the basement stairs.

  After they went down the narrow steps, they entered the expansive fellowship hall. Long, rectangular-shaped tables surrounded the room, covered with pale pink and white tablecloths. Small vases of fake pink and white roses adorned each table, and a podium had been set up in front of the room. Martin explained, “Linda Tucker and her grandnephew’s wife are supposed to come.”

  While he cooked the food, Martin spent the morning explaining to his Uncle Jesse about his rough week.

  Footsteps echoed from the adjoining hallway, interrupting their conversation. “What are you doing here, Jesse?” Linda Tucker strolled into the kitchen sporting a yellow business suit and carrying a leather portfolio. She glared at Jesse as if he were vermin. “For somebody who’s not a member of this church, you’re sure here an awful lot.”

  “Why does that bother you? I’ve noticed Michael Tucker has been coming to the evening service for the last few weeks, and he’s not a member of this church,” Martin snapped.

  Linda jerked back. “You need to watch your tone, Pastor Martin! I’ve never had a preacher speak to me in that tone of voice before. Remember what I told you. I know all about what you’ve done in your past.”

  Why did she keep bringing up his past? Martin glanced at Linda. Her mouth was set in a hard line as she clutched the portfolio in her bony arms. He closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was looking at the situation the wrong way. Although the predicament with Michael Tucker upset him, he knew he had to pray about Linda’s misery. “I’m sorry Sister Linda. It’s been a rough week.”

  He turned toward the door. “I’ve already prepared the spaghetti for the lunch. Everything is in the kitchen.” The spaghetti was now finished, but it was a couple of hours before the event started.

  She frowned. “You made the food?” She scrunched her nose, as if the feast he worked so hard to prepare smelled bad.

  “Yes.” He then explained that their cook had fallen ill and he’d agreed to take her place. “The spaghetti is still on the stove, and the sisters manning the kitchen can reheat it. There’s garlic bread in the freezer and salad in the refrigerator.”

  He turned to leave, and her voice stopped him. “Have you spoken with your father?”

  Martin sensed Linda wanted to do battle with him. “About what?”

  “You know Michael is supposed to preach tomorrow night so that the congregation can see if they like him.”

  Martin shrugged. “Yes?” Michael’s upcoming sermon had been on his mind all week. In fact, his thoughts had been so cluttered with negativity that he wasn’t even sure what to pray about anymore. He certainly couldn’t pray that another pastor do a terrible preaching job. He didn’t want his congregation to embrace Michael Tucker, but if it was the Lord’s will, then it would be for the best.

  “Well, we just received word late last night that Pastor Frank is coming to hear Michael preach tomorrow.”

  Martin jerked back, his eyes widening. “Pastor Frank is coming here?”

  “Yes, I called your father about it yesterday.”

  Uncle Jesse glanced at Linda. “Thanks for letting us know, Sister Linda.” Before Martin could say anything, Jesse led him outside. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so. My dad left a few messages for me late last night and early this morning, telling me to call him back. I’d meant to call him later today.”

  “I’ll be praying for you, but I think we both need to pray for Sister Linda. That woman’s miserable, and she needs the touch of the Holy Spirit,” Uncle Jesse advised.

  Martin’s head was so full, it felt like his brain would explode as he walked to his car. Was the Lord telling him he needed to look elsewhere to lead a flock? The fact that the famous Pastor Frank would come to his church to show his support for the opposing pastor stunned him. Most of the congregation was behind Martin taking over as lead pastor of this church.

  However, would the congregation change their minds about supporting Martin once they heard Michael preach, and saw the famous Pastor Frank give Michael his approval?

  The August 17th voting day was still a month and a half away, surely a lot could happen during that time.

  His torrid thoughts turned to Rhea. Would she ever speak to him again? All of these thoughts tumbled through his mind like scattered snowflakes in the wind. He shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts.

  He’d visit Rhea tomorrow. If he showed up at her apartment, she couldn’t ignore him.

  *

  After Martin had preached the early service at his church, he’d heard parishioners talking about the upcoming visit of Pastor Frank that evening. Michael Tucker’s sermon was scheduled for six o’clock and Martin had spent the previous night tossing and turning, still unsure about the fate of his relationship with Rhea, and his role at the church.

  He stood at the wooden doors, shaking hands with parishioners, his father beside him. Once everyone had taken their exit, Martin spotted the carts of folding chairs in the hallway. He frowned, pointing at the chairs. “What are those doing there?”

  “We’re expecting more people than usual for this evening.”

  “Dad, do you really think he’ll come tonight?” Was Linda just saying this to get people riled up?

  “Yes, his assistant called my cell phone early this morning, re-confirming that he’s coming.”

  He squeezed Martin’s shoulder. “Son, don’t frown. We have to have faith.”

  They walked to his father’s office, and he closed the door. “Don’t let everybody’s excitement about Pastor Frank’s visit put a damper on your mood.” Dad sat in a chair.

  “Dad, you know people will remember that Pastor Frank gave his personal endorsement to Michael when they vote. They probably watch the man every week on TV.”

  “Keep the matter in prayer.” His father opened a bottle of water. “How are things going with Rhea?”

  “Lousy.” He told him about his date with Rhea and about her refusal to talk to him. He glanced at his watch. “Later this morning, I’m going to her apartment. She doesn’t answer when I call, text, or e-mail her. I figure if I show up at her apartment, she can’t turn me away.”

  “You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?”

  “No.”

  “You should go talk to Rhea because if you don�
��t, you’ll be worried about it all day. Just don’t forget that we have a meeting before Michael Tucker preaches this evening.”

  Later, he rushed out of the church and stopped at the grocery store, purchasing a dozen red roses. He then drove to Rhea’s apartment. He parked at the curb and noticed Rhea walking up the stairs of her apartment building, still wearing her church clothes. She saw him and hesitated, standing on the steps, staring.

  Martin approached her, clutching the bouquet. He took her hand. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly. He released her hand and gave her the flowers. Her caramel-colored eyes were full of questions.

  She looked so tired! Had she been suffering from sleepless nights, too? “Rhea, can we talk?”

  “No.”

  “Rhea, we need to talk.” A few people walked by and were now looking in their direction.

  He gritted his teeth, frustrated. He needed answers, and he needed them now. There was no way that Rhea was going to cut him out of her life without an explanation. She could at least be honest with him. He leaned toward her, wishing he could touch her, hold her, but knowing that it was best to give her space at the moment. “Will you at least spend a few minutes with me?”

  She glanced at the flowers before looking at him again, her eyes wary. “Okay.”

  The blazing afternoon sun beat down upon them, and Rhea removed her shades from her purse, placing them over her beautiful eyes.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin your plans today.”

  “You didn’t. You’re right, we really do need to talk.”

  The weight of the previous week weighed upon him, almost making him feel as if he would collapse from the entire emotional toll.

  Rhea’s mouth was set in a tense line as she clutched her flowers. Had he imagined the chemistry they’d shared? She acted like she didn’t want to be around him. “If you’d rather not speak to me, or talk to me another time, that’s fine.” She touched his arm.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just tired, in a bad mood. We really do need to talk.”

  Praise the Lord, she didn’t send him away! “Okay. Do you mind if we go to Monroe Park? It’s quiet and it shouldn’t be too crowded today.”

  “Monroe Park is fine.” He led her to his car. Not in a vivacious mood that day, he didn’t bother playing his jazz music as they made their way toward their destination. Hopefully, she would let him know what was bothering her. Not speaking to her all week had worn him down, made him wonder, not allowing him to come to a conclusion about their relationship. Should he have respected her privacy, not shown up at her place today? But, if he’d done that, he still wouldn’t have known what was wrong, or, if he’d done something to offend her.

  Maybe she still grieved for Stan, still had doubts concerning his profession. Could that possibly be? He flexed his sweaty fingers, took a few deep breaths.

  After they exited the car, the blazing heat showed no mercy. Wildflowers bloomed in the vast green landscape and a few people whizzed by on rollerblades. A butterfly fluttered by, and a puffy black and yellow bumble bee buzzed around. A few people ran down the path, and a vendor stood in the shadows, selling visitors icy cold bottles of soda and water. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. “Would you like something to drink?” A light breeze blew, bringing brief relief to the intense heat.

  “A bottle of water would be nice.”

  He purchased a bottle of water for her and a cold soda for himself. They silently strolled down the path. He gestured toward the gazebo. “Would you like to sit over there?”

  “That’s fine.”

  Once they were seated, and had opened their beverages, Martin took a long soothing drink from his soda bottle. He removed his tie, saying a silent prayer to God, hoping the Holy Spirit would allow him to say the right words. “It’s hot out here today. Did you want to go someplace else to talk?”

  She shook her head, sipping her water. “No, this is fine.” Sweat beaded on her upper lip, and she wiped the moisture away.

  “I guess Myra told Raven about our dinner meeting last week?”

  “Yes, she did. I feel so bad.”

  “Why?” He ached to hold her, but he didn’t want to do anything to make her more apprehensive. It was a major feat getting her to talk to him in the first place.

  She opened her mouth, closed it, before removing her dark glasses and looking into his eyes. “This is so hard for me.”

  “What is?”

  She gripped her water, as if she were afraid the bottle would go spinning out of her hands. “Hurting my sister. Martin, I love her. Over the years, we’ve fought, we’ve made up, we’ve disagreed.” She bit her lower lip and looked away. A tear ran down her face and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. He again resisted the urge to hold her in his arms. She turned toward him again. “But,” her voice wobbled as she spoke. “But, Raven’s never hit me before and this is the first time she’s ever said she’d never speak to me again. It was hard hearing her say that.”

  “Honey, she’ll come around.”

  “Martin, we can’t be together.”

  “Why not? I love you.”

  She stiffened, scooted away. “You can’t mean that. We haven’t known each other very long.”

  He vehemently shook his head. He’d known Rhea long enough to know that he loved her. Her kind heart, gentle spirit, caring nature, and her devotion to her late husband all came into his mind…he had to find a way to make her understand that he really did love her. “That doesn’t matter. I know I love you.”

  Her caramel-colored eyes filled with sadness. “I’ve been having dreams.” She changed the subject, and he wondered if she hadn’t taken his proclamation of love seriously.

  “Dreams about what?”

  “About Stan.”

  Martin felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Why was she mentioning Stan now? He knew she loved her husband, probably still thought about him every day, but…this conversation was about them, him and Rhea. He loved that she’d been devoted to Stan, but, didn’t understand why Stan, and her sister, could dictate whom Rhea could love. He gritted his teeth. “What happens in these dreams?”

  She looked toward the ground. “I can’t be too sure. It’s hard for me to remember all of the details. I just remember Stan being there and we’re together, serving the congregation.” She looked into his eyes. “Sometimes, he tells me how much he loves me, and that he doesn’t know what he’d ever do without me.”

  Martin crushed his soda can. A bird chanted in a nearby oak tree and a light breeze blew. When he remained silent, she placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Martin, but I don’t think us dating would be a good idea. I’m not sure if I could ever accept another pastor into my life. Even if Raven accepts us, I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to date a pastor.”

  “Don’t be so quick to say that.”

  “But it’s how I feel. I think with my dreaming about Stan, and Raven’s dramatic reaction to our relationship, I feel that the Lord is trying to tell me that you’re not the right man to have in my life.”

  Tears came to his eyes, but pride intervened and he blinked the moisture away. No way would he let Rhea see how much her words hurt him. “You can’t mean that.” His voice sounded husky, and he swallowed, trying to calm himself down. “I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  She shook her head, her light brown hair swaying with the movement. “You don’t love me.”

  “Rhea!”

  “You don’t. You’re just confused.”

  He gritted his teeth, silently praying. Hopefully, the Lord would intervene and diffuse his temper. “How are you going to tell me how I feel? I love you.”

  “No. You. Don’t.” The silence surrounded them like the heat of the day.

  He finally found his voice, still stunned about the way this conversation was turning out. “Why would you think that I’m confused?”

  “Because, you told me about your two fiancées.”

  “What about them?” he asked
quietly.

  “You told me you fell in love with them quickly, and that your love wasn’t returned.”

  He bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And your point is?”

  “My point is that if you’d waited and gotten to know them better before declaring your feelings, you might’ve realized you weren’t really in love but infatuated.”

  He sighed, tossing his soda can into a nearby trash bin. “Honey, you’re way off base with that assessment. I was with my second fiancée for an entire year, and I loved her.”

  “Well, you didn’t know the first one for very long,” she spat.

  Words escaped him, and the weight of frustration he’d been feeling for the past week doubled, crushing him. Weariness flowed through his body. He needed a nap. Maybe sleep could help him escape from this awful nightmare. He stood and said nothing as he waited for Rhea to stand. He recalled Uncle Jesse’s advice, about his telling Rhea about his wild college years, and the mistakes he’d made. Visions of the baby crawled into his mind, but he shook his head, not in the mood to reveal his soul to Rhea Morrison.

  Remaining silent, he drove her apartment. He was about to get out of the car so that he could open her door for her, but, she moved too quickly. He studied her while she rushed out of his car, slammed the door, and walked up the steps of her apartment building.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Altar call! Anybody with prayer needs, please step forward!” Sitting on the platform, along with his dad, Martin paid attention to Michael Tucker as Michael raised his hands, beckoning parishioners. Sweat rolled down his brow, and he wiped the moisture away with a white handkerchief.

  Worshipers packed the sanctuary like canned sardines. Pastor Frank sat in the front of the church, and the media stood in the back. News cameras and reporters were in the foyer, waiting to interview Pastor Frank. Even though the church had not advertised Pastor Frank’s visit, the church members had told friends, family members, newscasters.

  Martin swallowed, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. He stared at Pastor Frank, still stunned that this famous man was in his church, openly giving an endorsement to his opponent. The heavy-set, bearded pastor smiled, his eyes shining with pride while he’d listened to Michael Tucker preach.