Richard was bewildered by the apparent need for subterfuge. “But I promised her I’d stay as long as she needs me,” he said.
“Exactly. As long as she needs you.”
Suddenly all of the other hints of weakness, counterpointed against the high spirits whenever Anna Louise was around, began to make sense. He surmised that the frailty, or at least some of it, had been feigned for his benefit.
“Why that old rascal,” he muttered, taking things off of the tray and setting them on the table.
“What are you doing now?”
“We’re having breakfast. All of us,” he added emphatically. “Right here in this kitchen. Forget the soft-boiled egg she asked for. Scramble the eggs, would you? I’ll be back in a minute.”
He stalked into Maisey’s bedroom a moment later and found her reading a magazine, which she hurriedly tried to stuff under her pillow.
“Reading Soap Opera Update again?” he inquired.
She scowled at him. “Of course not.”
“Then why’d you hide it in such a rush? Afraid I’d discover you’re putting on an act?”
“What act?”
He leveled a look at her. “Maisey, how do you feel this morning? The truth.”
“I told you. I’m fine,” she said defensively.
“Just a little tuckered out?”
“Exactly.”
“Anna Louise is in the kitchen.”
Her expression brightened at once. “She is? Why didn’t you send her in?”
“I told her you were too exhausted for company. She and I will be having breakfast in there.”
“Oh.” Her voice and her expression went flat.
“You could join us,” he suggested casually. “If you’re up to it.”
She shot him a look of sudden comprehension. There wasn’t a hint of guilt on her face, though. “You’re entirely too smart for your britches, Richard Walton.”
“So they say,” he said smugly. “Shall we expect you in a few minutes?”
“I’ll be there. Get out the strawberry preserves. They’re Anna Louise’s favorite.”
“I’ll make note of that.” He grinned at her. “You have all the subtlety of a steamroller, Grandmother.”
“Well, somebody has to give a thought to your future. You certainly aren’t doing a thing about it. You’re never in one place long enough to meet a nice woman, much less court her.”
“If you think Anna Louise Perkins is in my future, then it’s your mental health we need to be worrying about.”
Maisey regarded him complacently. “I guess we’ll just see about that, won’t we?”
“Grandmother!”
“Oh, hush up, young man. You don’t scare me. Now get back to our company.”
“Company? To hear you tell it, Anna Louise is practically one of the family.”
“If I were you, I’d watch that smart tongue. We’ll just see who has the last laugh.”
She said it so smugly, Richard wondered if he’d make it through breakfast without Maisey getting a proposal on the table on his behalf.
* * *
Anna Louise scrambled a fresh batch of eggs and kept a pile of perfectly browned toast warm in the oven as she listened to the squabbling coming from Maisey’s bedroom. She couldn’t hear what the two of them were saying, but there was a cheerful, teasing tone to it that pleased her for Maisey’s sake. Having Richard home was a real tonic for her, better than any of the medication Doc Benson had prescribed.
She glanced up from the eggs when Richard strolled into the kitchen. “Is she feeling better?”
“The cure was almost instantaneous. She heard you were here.”
“She didn’t have to get out of bed to visit with me.”
“I don’t think you were precisely the incentive,” he said dryly.
She regarded him quizzically. “Oh?”
“I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you that Maisey has ideas for the two of us. She’s not about to miss an opportunity to see how her plans are coming along.”
Anna Louise could feel the blood rushing into her cheeks. “You must be mistaken,” she said weakly, even though she knew in her heart that Richard was absolutely right. “You and I...we aren’t...”
He grinned. “Exactly what I told her. She doesn’t seem to be persuaded.”
“Maybe I’d better leave before she gets in here,” she said, hurriedly spooning the eggs onto a platter and grabbing the toast from the oven. “Everything’s ready. You two can just help yourselves. Tell Maisey I’ll stop by later.”
Richard caught her arm when she would have spun toward the door. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not leaving me alone to explain what I did to run you off.”
“But we can’t let her go on thinking that something will happen between us. Just imagine how disappointed she’ll be if we let her get her hopes up.”
“Then we can just sit here over a nice breakfast and explain to her perfectly sensibly that we are wrong for each other. That ought to clear it up so there will be no misunderstandings down the line.”
To Anna Louise’s deep regret, his matter-of-fact approach to the problem irritated the daylights out of her. Of course, he was right. They had nothing in common. They had no future. But he didn’t have to sound so darned pleased about it.
“Well,” he prodded, “isn’t that the best way to handle it?”
“I suppose.”
He gave a little nod of obvious satisfaction. “Good, we’re agreed. You can tell her.”
Anna Louise regarded him indignantly. “Me? She’s your grandmother. Besides, it was your idea. Why do I have to tell her?”
“Because she’ll listen to you. After all, would a preacher lie?”
Not if she could help it, Anna Louise thought grumpily. She might, however, slug a man, given enough provocation. Richard Walton was unwittingly providing almost enough. In fact, she found his certainty over their unsuitability downright insulting. She could hardly tell him that, though.
“We’ll both explain,” she finally compromised. “I’ll tell her why I could never be interested in a cynical, impossible man like you and you can fill her in on why you object to me.”
His gaze narrowed. “Impossible?”
“That’s one of the kinder things I can think of to describe you,” she shot back, satisfied by the dull red flush in his cheeks. Good, he was almost as irritated as she was.
“You know you’re playing with fire, don’t you?” he said, his voice suddenly low and entirely too calm.
Anna Louise’s stomach flipped over. Still, she kept her gaze even with his. “Am I?”
He took a step closer. Her pulse skittered wildly. He reached toward her. But before his fingers could make contact with her cheek, he lowered his hand and backed away as if he’d sensed the white-hot heat of a flame. Anna Louise’s heart pounded so hard she could hear the rush of blood. Then, when she realized there would be no more, the dull ache of disappointment settled in.
“Blast,” he muttered under his breath. When he looked at her again, his expression was shaken. “I’ll be painting the barn, if Maisey needs me.”
“Coward,” she said to his retreating back.
He turned and shot her a rueful look. “You’d better be glad I am, Pastor Perkins.”
The screen door slammed shut behind him.
“Well, phooey,” Anna Louise said to his back, wishing she could give voice to a more emphatic reply. The man only called her Pastor Perkins when he was trying to point out the differences between them. Whether it was for her benefit or his, she wasn’t quite sure.
For reasons she didn’t care to examine too closely, she wasn’t one bit delighted to discover that Richard Walton had the willpower to resist her. She regretted more than she could say that his hand hadn’t quite caressed her cheek, that he hadn’t dared a single kiss.
Knowing that, she had to wonder exactly which one of them was the bigger fool.
CHAPTER SIX
Anna L
ouise’s mood was thoughtful as she drove home from Maisey’s. As it had turned out, Richard’s grandmother hadn’t asked for any explanations about his absence from the breakfast table and Anna Louise hadn’t offered any. Now that she thought about it, Maisey had actually seemed downright upbeat when she’d discovered that her grandson had taken off. Maybe she’d figured her scheming was paying off, if it had Richard on the run.
Fortunately, Anna Louise didn’t have a lot of time to worry about it. Luke Hall’s oldest boy, Jeremy, and his girlfriend were coming in to talk about wedding plans. It was going to take every last bit of Anna Louise’s persuasive skills to convince them they were too young to even consider getting married.
As she drove up to the church, she found Jeremy already pacing on the front lawn. Tall and gangly, his blond hair slicked back, he’d done his best to look grown-up in nice, navy blue pants, a dress shirt and a tie. It must have been an old shirt because the collar seemed strained around his neck and the too short sleeves revealed his bony wrists. Still, she complimented him.
“You look very handsome, Jeremy. Where’s Maribeth?”
“She should be here in just a minute. Her ma made her baby-sit this morning, and she was running late getting back.”
“Well, I’m glad we have a few minutes alone. Come on inside and let’s talk.” She led the way into her office, which had its own entrance at the side of the parsonage. She pulled an extra chair around from behind her desk and sat down. Jeremy remained awkwardly standing.
“Sit down, Jeremy.”
“I’m just a mite nervous, Pastor Perkins,” he admitted. “It’s not every day a man makes plans to get married.”
“No, it’s not,” she agreed, then seized the chance to play up his apparent nervousness. “Are you sure this is something you’re ready to do?”
Troubled eyes met her gaze. “Why, sure,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction. “Me and Maribeth, we’ve been planning this ever since we were kids.”
“And how old are you now?”
“I’m eighteen,” he said, standing a little taller.
“And Maribeth?”
“She just turned seventeen, right after graduation. She’s real smart. She skipped the third grade.”
Anna Louise bit back a stern lecture about a girl of seventeen and a boy of eighteen being in no position to know their own minds, especially when all of their experiences had been limited to life in a tiny town like Kiley. From what she knew, both Jeremy and Maribeth were smarter than average. It would be a terrible waste for them to forgo the chance at a college education.
She hesitated long enough to consider her options. Maybe she could use Jeremy’s own fears to get him to postpone the date for the wedding. If she came at him head-on, he’d fight her for sure. And going to Luke Hall or to Maribeth’s parents would be no solution at all. He’d resent her interference and end up eloping.
“Do you have a job, Jeremy?”
“Sure. I work for my father at the store.”
“I seem to recall that Maribeth used to talk about wanting to teach school. And weren’t you interested in architecture or engineering at one time? You can’t do either of those without a college education.”
Her comments didn’t seem to daunt him in the slightest. “We’ve thought about that, ma’am. I figure in a year or two we’ll have some money saved and maybe we can move over to Charlottesville and go to school nights.”
Anna Louise nodded. “That’s possible, I suppose.” She looked him squarely in the eye. “Unless Maribeth gets pregnant.”
His eyes widened at that. “We’re not planning on having kids right away,” he said adamantly. “We’ve discussed it. We’re going to be real careful. Maribeth’s—” He flushed with obvious embarrassment. “Well, she and the doc have talked about it. It’s all taken care of.”
Anna Louise was relieved on that count at least. “That’s good. I’d hate to see your plans spoiled by a baby you hadn’t expected. Of course, it seems to me that you could ensure that wouldn’t happen if you’d both get into college first.”
He blinked at her. “First? You mean, before we even get married?”
Jeremy sounded as if the idea had never once crossed his mind. “I know it would take real maturity to make a difficult decision like that,” she admitted casually. “And you and Maribeth do love each other, but I was just thinking that a love you’ve shared since you were kids would surely last long enough to allow you both time to get your educations.”
“But we...” He stumbled over whatever he’d been about to say. He regarded Anna Louise helplessly, then visibly gathered his courage. “What about sex?” he finally said bluntly. “It’s not like we can go on waiting forever. I mean, it’s really hard doing the right thing and staying clear of her until the wedding. Maybe you can’t understand about that, not being married and all and being a preacher, but sometimes I think I’m just going to bust apart if I can’t make love to her.”
Despite Jeremy’s idealized image of her, Anna Louise thought she had at least some idea what he meant.
“Jeremy, making love is something very beautiful to be shared by two people who have made a commitment to be together for the rest of their lives. I know waiting until you’re married has been difficult. I’m proud of you for doing that.” She regarded him intently. “But rushing into a marriage at eighteen, just so you can have sex, is wrong.”
“Well, that’s not the only reason we’d be getting married,” he replied indignantly. “We love each other.”
“But have you considered how much you’d be giving up by not waiting? You won’t be able to afford a nice home for Maribeth on what you earn at your father’s store.”
His face fell. “Actually, we were going to have to live with my folks,” he admitted.
“And what about taking your new wife out to a nice dinner once in a while? Or to a movie? Will there be money for that, if you’re both trying to save for college? And what will Maribeth do for a job?”
“Mrs. Rawlings said she could use some extra help sewing.”
Anna Louise could just imagine what Millicent Rawlings would pay. If it was even as much as minimum wage, she’d be surprised. “And how long would Maribeth be content doing that? She’s a smart girl. You’ve said so yourself. How would you feel a year or two from now, if things didn’t work out for college, after all? Wouldn’t you be afraid she’d start resenting you because she missed that opportunity? Or that you might even resent her because you’re stuck in the same old job at the general store right here in Kiley?”
Jeremy’s expression turned bleak. “You don’t think we should get married, do you?”
Hallelujah! Anna Louise thought, but she tried not to let her delight show. The battle wasn’t won yet. He’d seen her point, but he hadn’t agreed with her.
“It’s not my decision, Jeremy. It’s up to you and Maribeth. If her parents give her their permission to get married at seventeen and you want to go ahead with it, I’ll conduct the ceremony and give you both my blessing.”
“But you think we’re wrong,” he persisted.
“I’m just not sure you’ve given it careful enough thought. When you have, I know you’ll make the right decision.”
He regarded her worriedly. “How am I going to tell Maribeth what you’ve said? She’s been counting on us getting married.”
“Don’t tell her this is coming from me. Just talk to her the way I’ve been talking to you. Discuss all the ramifications. Maybe she’ll realize all on her own that it’s too soon.”
He sighed heavily and made his way to the door. “If we decide to go ahead, you won’t fight us, will you?”
“No, Jeremy, I won’t fight you. I only want what’s best for both of you.”
“Thanks,” he said, looking anything but grateful. In fact, he looked downright miserable. “I guess we’ll be in touch.”
“Take care. Tell Maribeth to stop by anytime if she wants to talk.”
She watched Jeremy wa
lk off toward town, his shoulders slumped. Maribeth Simmons, her pretty blond hair cascading down around her shoulders, met him on the road. He slid an arm around her waist and kissed the tip of her nose. Maribeth cast a troubled look back toward the parsonage, then walked on with her boyfriend.
Anna Louise sighed as they disappeared from sight. She thought she had gotten through to Jeremy, but there was no telling with kids that age. In the long run, if it came down to it, she’d rather see them married now than have to perform a hasty wedding six months down the road. Thinking back to the confusion and uncertainties of that age, she realized she wouldn’t want to be their age again for anything.
“You got something against marriage?”
Richard’s voice from the doorway startled her. She hadn’t heard the car drive up, so he must have walked down the hill. “Eavesdropping?” she asked, moving across the office to put the huge old oak desk safely between her and him.
“I didn’t realize you had someone in here when I walked up to the door. As soon as I heard voices, I backed off to wait.”
“Under a window, no doubt.”
He shrugged. “Force of habit. That’s how I get some of my best information.”
“By sneaking around?”
“I prefer to think of it as clever, investigative reporting tactics.”
“Call it what you will, it’s still not right,” she said, not one bit sure why she was making such an issue of it. The conversation had been private, but it had hardly contained significant secrets. In fact, if she had to guess, she’d say half the town would know what she and Jeremy had discussed before suppertime. He and Maribeth would tell their best friends, who’d tell their friends, who’d be overheard by their parents.
“I didn’t come down here so you could catalog my sins or make judgments about my professional ethics,” Richard informed her, drawing her attention away from how quickly gossip spread in Kiley.
“Why did you come?”
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