In the meantime, for her own sanity, she needed to avoid Nathan as much as possible.
Chapter Nine
Nathan straightened his tie, then looked at himself in the mirror. From the outside, he appeared calm and professional in his navy suit and crisp white shirt. Inside, he was a mass of conflicting emotions.
How had he let himself get talked into this? Was he really ready to step back into God’s house for the first time in months? He released a long sigh. The only thing he knew for sure was that he couldn’t let Paige down. So he would go to church with her this once, meet the pastor, then tell Paige that he didn’t want—or need—counseling.
Especially not by a fellow minister.
His resolve set, he headed to the lobby and went out to meet the other churchgoers waiting for the bus. The sight of Paige looking fresh and pretty in a light green summer dress, her fair hair framing her face, had Nathan’s heart knocking like the noisy bus engine. He couldn’t help but recall their intimate moment by the lake the other day with a mixture of regret and relief. He had a feeling if they had shared that kiss, everything would’ve changed between them in ways neither of them was ready for.
Paige looked over and gave him a tentative smile as he approached the group. “You’ve decided to join us.”
“For today. We’ll see how it goes from there.” He gave a quick nod, and boarded the bus before he could change his mind.
Half an hour later, seated in the front pew of Pine Ridge Community Church, Nathan tried to ignore the bead of sweat trickling down his back. Beside him, Zach sat straight and tall, his hymnbook open in readiness for the opening song. A bittersweet pang of pride surged in Nathan’s chest. It had been a very long time since he’d looked out over his congregation to see Cynthia and Zach in the front row, offering their love and support of his ministry. At least, he’d thought Cynthia had supported his career. Too bad he’d been horribly mistaken.
Nathan turned and glanced over his shoulder at the parishioners behind him. How odd to be on this side of the altar, to be an anonymous member of a congregation, instead of leading the service. A sharp spasm of regret shot through him. He’d missed this sense of community. Without it, he felt isolated and lonely, like a ship without a port.
His gaze swung back to the empty pulpit awaiting the preacher. Unwelcome memories of his last sermon at Saint Stephen’s rushed through him. The way he’d stopped midsentence, unable to continue, and simply stared out at the sea of puzzled faces. The way the cold, slick sweat had coated his entire body until panic had enveloped him and he’d fled, leaving his flock unattended. Abandoned.
The organ started, abruptly riveting his attention back to the choir and to Paige, standing tall in her red choir gown. Light from the stained glass windows prismed behind her, creating a colorful glow around her head. They began to sing one of Nathan’s favorite hymns. Above all the other choir members, Paige’s voice rang out clear and true. If he thought her singing had moved him before, it was nothing compared with her performance of this holy song. The same swell of emotion rose in his chest, threatening to suffocate him. He swallowed, forcing back the unwanted sensations.
By the time the pastor stood at the pulpit, Nathan had regained control of his emotions. He made himself concentrate on Reverend Redding’s eloquent lesson about God’s unconditional love and forgiveness, which touched Nathan in a profound way.
“Surrender your perceived sins to the Lord and let the Lord bear the burden.”
The words echoed in Nathan’s heart. If only it were that easy to give away all the pain, all the guilt, all the regret. Let God handle everything. Much easier said than done.
When the service was over, Nathan and Zach waited for Paige outside, watching the pastor greet his parishioners.
“Come on, Dad.” Taking his hand, Zach dragged Nathan over to the minister.
“Hi, Pastor Dan,” Zach greeted him. “This is my dad.”
“Hello, Zach. Good to see you again.” Pastor Dan smiled, ruffling Zach’s hair.
Nathan held out his hand. “I’m Nathan Porter. Nice to meet you.”
Dan was several inches shorter than Nathan, but his air of confidence gave him a larger-than-life presence.
“Dan Redding. You’ve got a great boy here.”
“Thank you.”
Dan’s eyes turned serious. “Catherine Reynolds told me how you helped Paige out of a very bad situation. Let me tell you how grateful we all are.”
A flash of heat rose up Nathan’s neck. “I’m just thankful I was there.”
Dan nodded. “So are we.” He cocked his head, frowning. “You seem familiar. Have we met somewhere?”
A spurt of panic arrowed through Nathan. It was possible he’d met Dan at some clergy event. He prayed Dan didn’t make the connection. Nathan was nowhere near ready to talk about why he’d left his ministry. “It’s possible. I used to come to Wyndermere quite often.”
He released a relieved breath when he spotted Paige coming to join them.
“Hi, Dan,” she said. “I see you’ve all met.”
“We have.” Dan bent to kiss her cheek. “You look like you’re feeling much better.”
“I am. Thank you.”
“And I must thank you for filling in today. You sounded wonderful as usual.”
“I second the motion,” Nathan added, welcoming the change in conversation.
Dan turned back to Nathan. “So, what are you doing with yourself while you’re here?”
What did he do? His days meandered on without purpose. Nathan shrugged. “Basically relaxing. Reading, swimming, running—a little exercise every day. Oh, and eating too much. The dining room is excellent.”
Dan laughed. “Sounds wonderful. I could use some R & R myself.” He paused. “Do you golf at all?”
“I do. But I didn’t bring my clubs.”
“We have a pretty good course about five minutes away, and they rent clubs. Would you like to join me for a game tomorrow?”
Nathan waited a beat, not sure what to make of this unexpected invitation. The lure of some adult conversation and a good golf game finally won out. “I’d like that. Thanks.”
“Great.” Dan slapped him on the back. “I’ll make reservations for seven a.m.”
Paige’s satisfied smile made Nathan wonder if he’d just been hoodwinked.
* * *
“I’m rustier than I thought.” Dan laughed as he marked a score of five on the eighth hole the next day.
“Lucky for me or I’d be losing by a whole lot more.” Nathan smiled, amazed to feel so relaxed.
It was the perfect weather for golf—sunny and warm, tempered with a light breeze. The course itself overflowed with pink flowering shrubs and tall shade trees that flanked the lush fairway. The intense color was enough to brighten anyone’s mood.
If Nathan had been worried about being grilled by Dan, he needn’t have. Dan was charming, funny and kept the conversation purposely light. At the halfway mark, Dan motioned Nathan over to a stone bench in the shade where they sat down. He opened a small cooler bag, pulled out two bottles of water and handed one to Nathan. They sat for a while in silence, enjoying their surroundings while another group of golfers played through.
At last Dan broke the stillness. “I was very sorry to hear about your recent loss. Paige told me a bit about what happened.”
Despite his best effort, Nathan stiffened. “Thank you. It’s been a difficult time.”
Dan took a sip from the bottle. “I imagine Zach is taking it very hard.”
It took great control for Nathan not to flinch at the stark sympathy on Dan’s face, but he managed a nod.
“I understand Paige is working with him, helping him deal with his grief.”
“That’s right.” Nathan replaced the cap on his bottl
e, hoping his terseness wouldn’t offend the pastor.
“How’s that going?”
Nathan ran a hand over his jaw. “Zach’s improved quite a bit. But I’m not sure if it’s real progress, or if he’s just enjoying camp and forgetting about his mother for the moment.”
Dan laid a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “In my experience with grieving kids, the healing process takes time. And it usually involves two steps forward, one step back.” He stood up to throw his bottle in the trash, then picked up his golf bag. “Just give him time and love. That’s the best you can do.”
By the eighteenth hole, the midday sun blazed down over the green. The final score was very close, but Nathan ended up ahead by two strokes.
“How about the winner buys you some lunch?” Nathan offered.
“You’re on.”
The restaurant inside the golf club had the perfect casual atmosphere. While they waited for their sandwiches, Dan chatted amiably about his life as a small-town pastor. Nathan listened, trying to quell the envy he felt for this man, who seemed so comfortable with himself and his career, and who had the support of a loving wife.
“Paige seems quite fond of you and Zach,” Dan commented, before biting into his sandwich.
Nathan paused, unsure how to respond. He opted for neutrality. “Zach is very fond of her, as well.” He took a bite of his burger, uneasy at the odd expression on the other man’s face.
“And how about you, Nathan? How do you feel about Paige?”
Tension stiffened Nathan’s spine. Why would he ask such a thing? “I admire her a great deal,” he said carefully. “She’s doing a wonderful thing for my son, and I’m grateful to her.”
Dan took a sip of his drink. “Are you ever going to tell her you’re a minister?”
Nathan’s hand jerked and his iced tea sloshed over the rim of his glass.
“I finally figured out why you look so familiar,” Dan went on. “I heard you speak at the Ecclesiastical Conference three years ago in New York. You were brilliant.”
Nathan scowled as he mopped up the spill with a napkin. “I’m not a minister anymore.”
Dan’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t been working since my wife—” He broke off and clamped his mouth shut.
“Since your wife died?”
He shook his head. “Before that. Since my wife left me.”
Dan hid his surprise well. “I’m sorry. When did that happen?”
The inquiry was so gentle Nathan couldn’t take offense. Instead he found himself wanting to confide in Dan.
“Cynthia left me six months before she died. Apparently she found someone who could dote on her day and night.” He stopped. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”
Dan shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Sounds like you have a lot of bottled-up anger you need to let out.”
The statement hung in the air until Nathan dared look Dan in the eye. “I suppose I do. I’m just not sure that you’re the right person to dump this on.”
Dan didn’t break eye contact. “It’s your call, of course. But please consider that I might be the perfect person to talk to, since I have inside knowledge of what your life was like—the pressure of juggling the needs of your family and the obligation to your parishioners. Believe me, I know how hard that is, and my parish is nowhere near the size of yours.”
Nathan could see the logic in his point, but still he hesitated.
“Tell you what,” Dan continued. “You think about it and let me know what you decide.”
Nathan smiled, relief loosening his tense muscles. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
Dan continued to eat his lunch, but Nathan found his appetite gone. Looking over, he caught Dan eyeing him intently and knew the man had more on his mind.
“Paige and I have been friends for several years now,” Dan said. “From what I know about her, honesty is something she values. If her opinion is important to you, I think you should tell her the truth about who you really are.”
Chapter Ten
Paige lifted a box of ribbons onto the picnic table and squinted out over the expanse of sand at the group of kids playing on the beach. Each year, she looked forward to the annual church picnic, and this year was no exception. Lakeside Park, with its large beach area and acres of rolling grass, was the perfect setting.
If only she could get her mind off the stunning bit of news Zach had unwittingly revealed during their therapy chat the other day.
He’d started talking about church on Sunday and how fun it was to have his dad sit in the pew with him instead of being up front.
Paige had frowned at Zach. “Why did your dad sit up front?” Maybe Nathan was a church elder or someone who read the lessons.
Zach scrunched his nose. “The minister always sits up there.”
Paige’s mouth fell open. “Your dad’s a minister?”
He looked up, his brown eyes unguarded. “He used to be. He hasn’t been to church in a long time.”
Paige’s thoughts had gone into a tailspin, and she still couldn’t quite wrap her brain around the idea. Nathan was a minister? She tried to remember what he’d said about his wife’s problems with his demanding job. At the time, Paige had imagined him in a corporate setting and had sympathized with Cynthia’s point of view. But now, knowing he’d been busy tending to the needs of his parishioners, the long hours away from his family took on a whole new perspective. From her dealings with Dan and Gwen Redding, Paige knew all too well the demands on a clergyman’s time. It took a strong, understanding woman to share the man she loved with so many people. But Nathan’s willingness to dedicate his time and attention to his congregation showed his strength and compassion, too.
“Earth to Paige.”
Sandy’s humor-filled voice snapped Paige back to the present. “Sorry about that. What’s up?”
Sandy plopped down on the bench beside her with a dramatic sigh. “Jerry says the next race will start in about twenty minutes.”
Paige looked over at Sandy and burst out laughing at her bedraggled appearance. Her friend’s dark hair lay plastered to her head and her blouse clung to her like a second skin, revealing her bathing suit underneath. “I see you lost the water balloon toss.”
“Nope. I got ambushed by the sore losers. Jerry led the attack.” She rolled her eyes in mock disgust, then grinned.
“You loved every minute of it.” Paige set the box on the grass. “I’d advise you to avoid the egg race, though. Could be messy.”
“Don’t give them any ideas.” Sandy laughed as she twisted the water out of her shirt.
Paige was still chuckling when she noticed Nathan heading across the lawn toward them. Her heart did a loop-the-loop at the sight of him. She’d done a good job of avoiding him since the near-kiss incident. Now she pushed back her attraction and forced herself to remember her resolution not to get involved.
Nathan pulled off his sunglasses as he reached them. “Hello, ladies.”
“Hi, Nathan.” Sandy seemed amazingly unselfconscious about her soggy condition. “Enjoying yourself?”
He smiled. “Very much so. The kids are having a great time.”
“Not only the kids.” Paige looked pointedly at Sandy.
“What can I say? I’m a child at heart. And there’s one big kid named Jerry that I need to take revenge on. See you two later.” Sandy jumped up from the picnic bench and set off at a jog toward the beach.
Paige held back a sigh. Ever since Nathan had rescued her from Brandon, her friend had some misguided notion that she and Nathan were destined to be together. Paige, however, knew better.
“I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you today,” Nathan said. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
The wind tousled his da
rk hair as he stood waiting for her response. He looked so serious, her pulse skipped. Surely he wouldn’t want to discuss the almost-kiss. That was one topic best left alone.
“I’ve got two more races to supervise.” She pushed the hair out of her eyes. “After that, I should be free for a bit.”
He nodded. “Fine. I’ll meet you then.”
He turned away, his expression too solemn for Paige’s liking.
“Nathan,” she called, “does this have something to do with Zach?”
He looked over his shoulder, a frown wrinkling his brow. “Not really. I’ll explain later.”
And with that, he headed toward the crowd, leaving Paige to worry.
* * *
Nathan stood on the sidelines watching the egg race, his nerves as wobbly as the orbs on the spoons. Getting the courage to reveal his background to Paige was proving a lot harder than he’d imagined. Somehow this seemed more difficult than telling her about his wife’s affair or their separation. Of course, he hadn’t known Paige very well then, whereas now the stakes seemed so much higher because he valued her good opinion of him.
Reverend Nathan Porter. The title had defined the biggest part of his being. And explained why, without his career, he now questioned everything about himself. He’d failed not only at his marriage but at his life’s vocation. Would Paige be disgusted by his cowardice at abandoning his calling? Would this admission cost him her respect? At the very least, she’d be angry with him for keeping this secret when she’d asked for his full disclosure on anything to do with him and Zach. He sighed. Either reaction would be gut-wrenching.
He took a moment to contemplate the enthusiastic group of people cheering on their children. The crowd served as another vivid reminder of what he’d missed since leaving his position at the church—the camaraderie of parishioners, the sense of community and family spirit. But what he missed even more was his own spirituality. Going back to church, even for one day, had been like giving a starving man a piece of bread. One small taste made him yearn for more.
Healing the Widower's Heart Page 9