Apparently, “your grandmother” carries weight because Ben’s stance softens.
It’s been a long trip, and I don’t want to disrespect Sara’s grandson twice in one day. I open the door and offer my hand. “I think we need a do-over here. I’ll pay for the flower box. Tell me the amount. The center though, this is my baby. I said good-bye to everyone and everything I know to take this job. I belong here, even after hours.”
Will raises an eyebrow and glances at Ben, whose serious look dissipates into an alluring grin.
Ben takes my hand for a strong handshake. “I’m sorry, too. I love everything about this area, and I’m pretty protective of it.” He doesn’t make a move to come inside. “I’ll start by saying, I’m Ben Regan. You know my grandmother. We own JB’s General Store, the only grocery store for about thirty miles. My grandfather founded it. He ran it for fifty years, before he died eighteen months ago.” Ben’s eyes drift away. He takes a hard swallow.
I flash a sympathetic smile, remembering my neighbor back in Ohio. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. I know it isn’t the same, but my childhood next-door- neighbor and babysitter, Florence Owens, died in January, and I was the last to speak with her.” I have a catch in my throat. “She’s the reason I’m the new director here. Her last words were for me to make the most of my life and never fear change.”
Ben doesn’t respond, so I adjust the door to stay open, freeing my hand, and step back inside. In my peripheral view, I see a karaoke machine still in its box. Clapping my hands, I make a mental note to open that box on my first day. Nothing livens up a place like music.
Ben remains outside, too far to hear Will ambling through the dining area, jangling his keys.
As Will chats, a breeze carries in Ben’s fantastic cologne that takes residence in my nostrils.
The food deliveryman chuckles. “You know, I didn’t think of this before. Ben is the town council member who brought up the vote to have the center closed.” Will comes closer and faces me. “When Trish Maxwell left Speculator Falls he called a board meeting. He suggested the director position never be posted for hire. Then he proposed the center close.” Will laughs again and keeps shaking the keys, an echo bouncing off the empty walls.
I sigh. The news keeps getting better and better.
Not.
Chapter Three
Ugh. I wish Will wasn’t right.
It’s my first drive to town for church—if I can navigate the layers of mud covering the driveway after an overnight rain. My little car doesn’t stand a chance against the sludge.
As I’m about to head to the shower and think about my options, a big white vehicle barrels up the driveway. Sara Bivins to the rescue. Before I can get to the door and greet her, my landlady twists the doorknob. When I unlock the door and let her in, she welcomes me with a grin.
“Good morning, I forgot you’re a city girl. The kids get after me, but I haven’t locked my door in, well, ever.” She walks to the breakfast nook, box in hand. “I stopped at JB’s during my morning walk to grab a box of donuts. Get dressed for service. I’ll have a donut while I wait. Maybe two.” She gestures toward my room with her left hand while picking up a powdery white treat.
“Thank you for thinking of me, Sara.” I saunter down the hall but call over my shoulder. “Would you mind giving me a ride to church? I don’t think my car can get out of the driveway.”
Sara’s chuckle floats into my room. “Will knew what he was talking about. Your unpaved parking area is a challenge in good weather.”
I change into my fuchsia colored business suit, yelling back to my landlord over the blouse stuck on my head. “This steep, rocky lane is new to me. Back in Ohio, most everything is flat.” Including my savings account.
I quicken my pace so I can enjoy a donut, walking by my landlady to return to the breakfast nook.
Sara looks my way and coughs. “Oh, dear. Jenna, that outfit, as beautiful as it looks on you, well, it’s pretty fancy for our little church.”
My landlady’s in tan pants, a bright turquoise cotton short-sleeved shirt,-and white canvas shoes.
“Okay, right. Give me a minute. I’ll find something suitable.” Dashing back to my room, I hear the crinkle of what I think is the donut box opening. By the time I get my act together, Sara will have the chance to finish off the box.
“How’s this?” Three minutes later I parade in front of her, taking a model-like spin with my black jeans, purple blouse, and coal blazer.
Sara licks what’s probably powdered sugar off her thumb. “Perfect. Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of things. Won’t be long and you’ll be a country girl like me.” She winks, while I feel my stomach tighten.
Why do I keep hearing about how I don’t belong?
As soon as Sara opens the front glass doors to Lake Pleasant Community Church, the crowd of a dozen or so people stops talking for a moment to look my way.
“There she is. You know, the new girl.” A woman who looks about my mom’s age points in my direction, her voice carrying beyond the group she’s talking to.
Another lady wearing clothes outdated by three decades nods. “They say she got the job over the phone. Never heard of such a thing.”
I swallow and clasp my hands before moving forward.
I belong.
Maybe if I repeat it enough, I’ll start believing it.
Sara reaches for the crook of my arm and starts to guide me past the crowd but not without sharing her opinion to the onlookers. “You’ll meet her after service. I hope Pastor speaks on gossip today.” She turns toward me. “Don’t you agree, Jenna?”
My face feels the color of the business suit I left crumpled on my bedroom floor.
Sara muscles us to the sanctuary where she sits in the fifth row from the front. She pats the fraying green cushion. “Best seat in the house. Can hear the message but not Kyle Swarthmore’s running commentary. Sit, dear.”
As I obey, the pastor stands and greets everyone from the podium. “Good morning. Those in the foyer, come on in.” The man waves the crowd in.
I lean in toward Sara. “Am I taking anyone else’s seat?”
A deep voice clearing his throat interrupts her reply. Ben Regan stands at my side, a smirk gracing his chiseled features. My hearts thumps up a quick beat.
Sara points to the vacant seat on the other side of her. “Oh, Ben, just come over here. Last I checked there aren’t any seats with your name on them.”
Ben nods and slides past us, giving me a conciliatory smile as his knees brush mine. He leans in and gives his grandmother a peck on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late, Grandma. The truck wouldn’t start.”
Pastor Reynolds cues the small choir, and they usher the congregation into worship.
Nice. A bouncy rendition of “My Redeemer Lives.” Even though I’m used to a suburban church with a balcony and premium sound system, there’s something quaint about ten choir members in faded blue robes and no microphones. I can get used to this.
Three upbeat songs and a hymn later, Pastor gives announcements and prays over the offering. When it’s time for the sermon, I scrounge through my purse for a pencil so I can take notes on the back of my bulletin.
“Change. We all go through it, right? In fact, Brooke and I are going through a transition now as empty nesters. Can you believe we took the Explorer to Pete’s garage?” He pivots toward the right side and addresses a woman in the front. “Honey, care to share what was wrong with the car?”
She stands and faces the congregation. “It’s so embarrassing. We thought the gas gauge broke. The needle stayed at over half a tank for the last two weeks. Turns out it’s working just fine. I’ll leave the ending for Pastor to share.”
He waits for Brooke to sit and chuckles. “My better half is right. Pete’s diagnosis on the car is embarrassing. Nothing was wrong with the gauge. Bottom line? We weren’t using any gas because the kids are gone. It’s funny how the empty nest impacts everything. Change is like that, isn’t it?�
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My pencil drops onto the tattered pea green carpet.
Why is his story on being an empty nester making my throat constrict and my eyes water?
“Jenna?” Ben nudges my arm.
My thoughts are back with my family in Ohio. Did I really hear God when I said yes to this job with no clue what the center or community was about? Can I handle such a paradigm shift in my life?
“Earth to Jenna.” Ben’s second soft push gets my attention.
“Hmm? Sorry?” I focus on the man with chocolate kiss eyes holding a pencil.
“Think this is yours. You okay?” he whispers, leaning extra close.
Ben’s eyes have a hypnotic hold, even as Pastor Reynolds shares another change anecdote. It seems impossible for me to concentrate on one thing.
“Yes. Sure. I’m fine, thanks.” My voice fades with my reply. Just like my confidence in moving to Speculator Falls.
“Jenna? Take your pencil.” Ben retreats once I grab my writing instrument but not without mumbling his opinion to Sara. “Are you sure this is the best candidate to lead the senior center, Grandma?”
Ouch.
Pastor wraps up the service with a short call to the altar for anyone that wants to pray about transition. “You don’t have to be in the middle of Pete’s garage realizing everything has changed to take this step forward and ask God to navigate you through this new chapter. This could be about a relationship shift. Or perhaps a job switch. How about a move? If you’re experiencing any life alterations, this altar is open for you.”
God, all that’s left is for you to have the man call me by name. Standing up, I brush bear claw sugar remnants off my clothes. When I walk forward, they are small steps. Even before I reach the front, I feel my heavenly Father’s presence and peace.
My daughter, small steps are all I’m asking you to take. Trust Me.
With eyes closed and lifted hands, I surrender my fears. Whatever the first day at work brings, it’s going to be okay. Tears moisten the carpet.
“You okay, dear?” A hand touches my shoulder. Sara.
“I am now. I guess I was overwhelmed by everything. Two months ago, I wouldn’t have seen myself living out of state with a new job. But I can do this.” I brush away a rogue tear off my cheek.
“May I pray for you?” Her voice is so tender and grandmotherly I expect her to dig out a sugar cookie from her purse and give it to me. But prayer is even better.
“Please. I’d love that.”
I close my eyes and feel the same soft touch on my shoulder. Fresh waterworks slide off my face as she prays.
“Lord, I ask that You give Jenna guidance for the senior center. Give her ideas, resources, and most of all, peace.” Once she concludes, she lets go of my shoulder.
When I open my eyes, there is a small circle of people surrounding me without crowding. Ben, hands in his pockets, head down, appearing deep in prayer. Sheriff Rowling and a boy with wavy ebony hair are next to him. Will nods his head as our eyes meet. Pastor and his wife are on the other side of Sara.
She steps toward me and extends her hand. “Jenna, welcome to Speculator Falls. I’m Brooke Reynolds, Pastor Craig’s wife. What do you think of our village so far?”
The woman has gorgeous green eyes and a warm smile. It feels natural to share with her. “It’s different than anything I’ve encountered, but I’m glad to be here.”
Pastor steps forward and also greets me with a handshake. “You are a wonderful addition to the community, Jenna. Sara told us you’re from Ohio. I have an aunt in Akron, so I’m familiar with the area.”
My shoulders relax. “Yes, Akron is about forty-five minutes away from Youngstown. That’s where my family is, where I went to college, and worked.” Images of the senior citizens from the various nursing homes I interned and worked as Activities Director come to mind.
“You’ve never lived anywhere but there?” Will scratches his goatee.
Not sure why he appears shocked, because I have a funny feeling Will and his orange hunting hat haven’t traveled outside Hamilton County borders, either. “Nope, not until yesterday. And although I’m used to traffic and billboards dotting my commute, I know living in the cabin and working at the center are a perfect fit for me.”
Ben coughs, the kind that sounds more like a statement than a throat tickle. His deep brown eyes gaze in my direction.
Mrs. Reynolds either ignores Ben, or doesn’t hear him, because she clasps her hands together and grins. “Jenna, it’s short notice but fodder for my husband’s next sermon. I cooked too much roast and would love if you join us. Sara and Ben have been such a blessing since the kids returned to college after spring break, visiting us after church. Say you’ll join all of us.” She moves her hands under her chin in a prayer-like gesture.
I look to Sara, who smiles, and then to Ben, who does the same, revealing two dimples. “Okay, how can I say no? Especially when Sara gave me a ride today.”
“Great. We’ll finish up here and meet you at the house.” Pastor takes his wife by the arm and they stroll to the foyer.
“Jenna, I’ll get my purse and meet you at the car. Ben, you can follow us. That way if I get tired after dinner, I can go home and you can give Jenna a ride back.” Sara doesn’t wait for a reply, but heads for the pew.
As the group disbands, a man in a three-piece suit heads my way. “It’s great to meet someone with fantastic fashion sense in God’s house. I’m Kyle Swarthmore. I stay weekends at our family summer home.”
Something about the way he says his name makes me want to run the opposite direction, but the smooth operator has already taken my hand in his. Kyle pulls it to his lips and plants a kiss on the back of it.
Swarthmore, you probably just inhaled some bear claw remnants with that gesture. I clear my throat. “This old thing?”
“Well, that purple blouse looks brand new, Miss Anderson. I might add the color showcases those beautiful blue eyes of yours.” He grins, staring with such an intensity I shake off a chill. “Say, maybe I can take you out for a cappuccino sometime. Here’s my card.” He presses his business card into my hand. “I’ve got to catch a flight back to Newark, but I’m glad to meet you.” He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting for my reply.
Without thinking, I crinkle the card as he walks away.
Ben speaks before I have the chance to stuff it in my purse. “He’s nothing more than a meddling tourist.”
My moody but handsome dinner partner looks like he wants to say more.
“Funny. I’m pretty sure that’s a similar description you used to label me.”
Ben grins and gives a slight bow. “Touché. I deserve that. C’mon. You don’t want to keep grandmother waiting, and I can’t be certain my truck will start.”
It takes two minutes to get from church to the Reynolds’ house. Lake Pleasant is across the road from their ranch-style home. Once out of the car, I face the waters and take in the quiet waves and the seagulls circling the beach area.
“Tempting to take your plate and eat out here, isn’t it? I never tire of watching the people on the shore, or the birds enjoying the lake.” Sara shuts the car door.
“It’s breathtaking. I mean, where would I start?” I pivot and point to the stretch of sand. “There’s a man and school-aged child flying a kite. But over there,” I give a slight turn to the parking area. “I’m intrigued with the couple holding hands.”
Ben chuckles as he exits his vehicle and starts for the front door. “Tourist.”
Sara swats his jacket as he passes by. “Such a spoilsport.” She walks ahead and follows him into the house.
When I turn and face the gray and black trimmed exterior of their home, Brooke opens the door and joins me in the driveway. We both look in the same direction, staying silent for a couple moments.
She breaks the quiet. “And people say there isn’t a God, right? I never tire of this view.” Her emerald eyes start blinking, but she quickly brushes her hand against them. “I’
m so glad you’re joining us. We sent our youngest to college, and after all these months, I still cook like he’s home. Always leftovers.” Her smile appears sad.
We go inside where she leads me past a mudroom into the dining room full of family pictures. A girl probably a little younger than I am and a college-age boy are the mirror images of their parents. I trace the wooden frame of a summer picture. “What you said about me joining you here after service? Well, I appreciate you inviting me. Looking at these portraits reminds me of my parents and sister, Meg. You help me feel less lonely.”
“Hey, you two. Dinner’s ready.” Pastor steps into view and then disappears.
Brooke squeezes my hand. “Let’s eat. And Jenna, our door is always open. You don’t ever have to feel lonely in Speculator Falls.”
The family feeling continues as we enjoy the roast dinner. Pastor Craig, as I learn he prefers to be called, shares everyday stories in between bites. “You know, Brooke and I were the new residents twenty-some years ago. Would you believe we thought we could share the gospel deep in the woods, even though we had no clue where we were going?
Brooke dabs the edges of her mouth with a napkin. “Oh, what a nightmare. Jenna, we walked the trails past your house. The roads are primitive even though paper companies used them years ago for their logging. Most visitors are from New Jersey. They like to rent hunting cabins deep in the woods.”
Pastor Craig places his fork on his plate. “Sara, you and John warned us that the hunters stayed deep in the woods, but we didn’t listen. We were so intent on sharing God’s Word with them.”
Brooke reaches over and squeezes her husband’s hand. “The cabins are five miles in. Took us two attempts before we realized we needed a vehicle.”
Sara chuckles, her blue eyes beaming. “I remember. When you finally listened to John’s advice, you took your little pickup, and it immediately got stuck in a rut.”
“Grandpa told me about what happened to you guys. You started walking, thinking the cabins weren’t far off. Problem was, you wore shorts. I bet the mosquitoes were chewing the flesh off your legs.” It’s good to see Ben in a good mood, and the visual everyone is painting makes it easy to laugh with the Reynolds’.
Entrusted (Adirondack Surrender Series Book 1) Page 2