by Clare Revell
“Fine, don’t tell me.” She looked around her. “However, this is so pretty, that I think I might just forgive you.”
“Best is yet to come.”
They emerged from the trees and Cassie gasped as she saw the building in front of them. “Quayside Mill…” She turned to him. This couldn’t be right. She’d always wanted to come here, but could never justify coming on her own.
The tickets to the small theatre were highly sought after. Set on the banks of the River Cally, the theatre sat only seventy-five people, yet attracted mainstream actors from both stage and screen, which made it very exclusive indeed. The attached restaurant was said to be top notch, with three Michelin stars and an award-winning chef.
“Seriously?”
“Gary Jefferson is starring in the play here and—”
“You’re kidding?” Cassie squealed, jumping in excitement.
“No. And as I know how much you love him—uh his work, I thought—”
She cut off any further words by hugging him. “Thank you so much. You’re spoiling me.”
“You’re worth it, Cassie.” His hand came up to caress her cheek, catching the strands of hair she’d left hanging down. “It’s worth every penny, just to see the look of pleasure on your face.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “But how did you get the tickets? Don’t you have to book months in advance?”
“I rang this morning and there were cancellations for tonight. Shall we?” He offered his arm.
Cassie slid her arm into his and walked inside with him.
The evening passed like a dream. Pre-dinner drinks on the verandah overlooking the river, Jack’s hand in hers, his low voice whispering in her ear, all made her head spin.
Small and exclusive surroundings, like the clientele, Cassie felt underdressed amongst the gold tinted lamp stands and busts of actors. Part of her thought she was dreaming—only Jack’s touch kept her grounded in reality.
They followed the crowd to the restaurant, where the food was as amazing as the critics said.
The entire meal was surpassed by the man sitting opposite her. His radiant smile and his gaze made her feel like the only woman in the room.
Jack led her into the small theatre. They found their seats, center front and he slid an arm around her as the lights dimmed.
Cassie gazed in wonder at the actor she’d long admired standing right in front of her, so close she felt she could almost reach out and touch him.
After the show, Jack kept her in her seat, saying nothing.
Then suddenly he was there—Gary Jefferson in the flesh. He signed her program and didn’t seem to mind that she was totally lost for words.
Outside in the chilling night air, Jack wrapped his arms around her. She fit perfectly against him.
“Thank you, so, so much.”
“You’re worth it.” He inclined his head, catching her lips with his.
The kiss was everything she thought it would be, warm, tender, full of love.
Breaking off, she smiled, seeing the love she felt for him reflected back in his gaze. Nothing could be more perfect than this moment.
Cassie's Wedding Dress
8
Jack arrived at the church for the weekly staff meeting to find the co-pastor Bruce Manning already there. “Morning, Bruce. How was the London convention?”
“It was good. The talks were excellent as was the fellowship.”
“That’s good. I was wondering if I could have a chat at some point. Something’s come up, and I could do with some advice.” He looked at his watch. “Am I early?”
“No—I asked the others to come a little later. I need to talk to you alone.”
“Sure. What’s up?” Jack’s stomach turned.
“Sit down. We’ll pray first and then talk.”
Jack sat, his mind running rampant. What have I done? I can’t think of anything I did or said…maybe he’s leaving or retiring or moving away.
Bruce prayed and then fixed his dark eyes on Jack. “Let’s start with what you wanted to ask.”
“I’ve been dating someone for a week or so, now. I wanted to ask about the whole pastor dating a parishioner thing. If a pastor fell for someone in the same church, what should he do? Is it classed as a teacher/student or doctor/patient thing? Or are there ways around it?”
“If you were Catholic, or High Anglican then it’s an absolute no-no. If you were her—I assume it’s a woman?”
“Of course. Do you want her name?”
“No…I just wanted to double check. If you were her counselor, Sunday School teacher or youth group leader then it’s also a no. Of course, she’d be underage then, anyway. But if the girl isn’t underage, and you’re not related to her, teaching or counseling her, then there isn’t a problem with it. As long as she’s a Christian, of course.”
“For one thing I wouldn’t go out with someone who didn’t share my love for God,” Jack answered. “And for another, there’s the whole unevenly yoked scenario. And there’s Lara. I have to take her feelings into consideration. I don’t want any potential relationship to make her feel unwanted.”
“My only concern is because you’re a pastor it might be a distraction for some church members and if it doesn’t work out it will be worse than a normal break up—for the both of you. You know what the job is like, how much time it takes up. Any wife you take has to be totally supportive of your position. She will also have her own role within the church. But you know all that.”
“Yeah. All right, thanks. I’ll talk to her.” Jack nodded, his heart light. There wasn’t an obstruction to seeing Cassie. He wasn’t ready to tell her how he felt about her, but he had the time to work up to it now.
“Let’s pray about that before we continue here.” Bruce bowed his head and prayed.
“What was it you wanted to say?” Jack asked. “You haven’t decided to leave us or retire, have you?”
“No.” Bruce took a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just out with it. There’s been a complaint made against you.”
“What? Who? When?” Shock, outrage, and nausea shot through him like a hot bolt. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done to merit a complaint.
Unless Miss Kingsley made good on her threat.
“And in light of what you just said, I can’t help but wonder if the two things are related.”
“What am I being accused of?”
“Conduct unbecoming a pastor, abuse of your position and assault.”
“I don’t believe this. Assault?” He looked at Bruce, swallowing the rising tide of nausea. His skin cold and clammy, he shoved his nails into the palms of his hands. “You don’t seriously believe any of this?”
“She said you made advances during a counseling session. You put your hands on her, she asked you to stop, and you refused.”
“What?” Jack leapt from his seat.
“Sit down.”
“Bruce, I promise you I haven’t done anything.”
“She also said she’s seen you in public with another parishioner and didn’t want her to suffer the same fate.”
“Who complained? Was it Miss Kingsley?”
“No, it isn’t. Why do you say that?”
“She saw me with Cassie, made a few nasty comments. I was going to go and talk to her, but thought better of it and just left it.”
“Give me your diary,” Bruce said. “I want to see if I can confirm the dates she gave me.”
“Here.” Jack pulled out his diary, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
I don’t believe this is happening, Lord. You know I’d never lay hands on a woman, much less force one against her will. I don’t remember anyone or anything that could have caused such a charge. I have to trust You and Bruce to sort this out.
Bruce slowly flicked through the pages.
“I can’t think of anything…” Jack’s voice tailed off.
Bruce put the diary down. “Here,” he said pointing to an entry.<
br />
Jack looked at him then down at the page. Pippa Wickham? “She didn’t turn up for the counseling session. I waited in until three, and then went to pick Lara up from school as usual. Miss Wickham was there collecting her daughter, Sasha. The girls wanted to play together so I took Lara and Sasha back to the manse. Miss Wickham came by about five to pick her up. She thanked me and started to hug me.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. I sidestepped her, called the girls, and she took Sasha home.”
“You’re sure you didn’t touch her in any way. Not even to push her off you.”
“No I didn’t. Not hugging parishioners is one rule I won’t ever break. Nor will I ever raise my hand to a woman.” Jack buried his head in his hands. It couldn’t be coincidence that this happened just after he and Cassie started going out, could it?
Pippa Wickham had made no effort to hide the fact she fancied him. Just like he’d made no effort to hide the fact nothing was ever going to happen between them.
“Bruce…Is she taking this further?”
“She wants to bring formal charges, yes. Though she did say you being removed as pastor would do. I told her I would speak to you first.”
“It’s her word against mine, isn’t it?”
Bruce nodded slowly.
This would end his career no matter what happened now. Charges against a pastor would bring the church and God into disrepute. And that was something Jack wasn’t about to let happen. He’d rather walk over hot coals or leave the job he loved, than allow that to come to pass. Neither was he about to sling charges back at Miss Wickham and tell Bruce how she made a beeline for him, kept eyeing him, flirting with him and so on. He only had one choice. He glanced up and met Bruce’s gaze.
“Then you have my resignation.”
“Jack? I thought you said you were innocent.” Bruce looked at him in shock.
“I am…but no one is going to believe that.” He swallowed hard. “It also saves you having to suspend or fire me, or have criminal charges laid against me. That would only sully the name of the church.”
“Don’t resign just yet, because one, I won’t accept it, and two, it looks like you have something to hide. It’s also a hasty gut reaction that doesn’t do anyone any good, you least of all.”
“So what do you suggest? Gardening leave? Sick leave?”
“Just take a few days holiday, starting from now. Let me investigate further. I’ll bring Nate Holmes up to speed. Not just as an elder, but as he’s a police officer, he’ll know what to do and where we are on a legal stand point. If you email me your sermon, I’ll preach on Sunday.”
“I’ll do that as soon as I get home.” Jack pushed to his feet, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. His stomach roiled, threatening to eject his breakfast. “Will you excuse me?”
He ran down the hall to the men’s room, barely making it in time. The heaves finally subsiding, Jack leaned against the cold tiled wall, tears slowly tracking his cheeks. The roller coaster of emotion was more than he could bear. He’d gone from the heights of joy to the pit of despair.
You know I’m innocent, Lord, but I can’t bring You or Your church into disrepute. I don’t want Cassie hurt or tarnished with the same brush. Nor do I want charges laid against her either, or something worse. I have to set my needs and wants aside and break it off with her before it goes any further.
****
The doorbell rang. Leaving the fabric on the floor, Cassie went into the hall. She opened the door and smiled. “Hey, Jack.” She moved to hug him, but he stepped away. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
“Not here.”
She raised her voice. “I’m going out, Mum. See you later.” She grabbed her bag and followed Jack.
She hadn’t seen him look so serious or hurt before. Had something happened? Was Lara sick? Was he sick? A thousand possibilities ran through her mind, each worse than the last. Her worry increased as they walked and he said nothing. They reached a bench and Cassie sat down. “We’re not going a step further until you tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me.”
“Sorry.” He sat, his shoulders slumped, his hands twisting. Sweat beaded his top lip and lines creased his brow. He moved his hands away as she tried to take them. “Don’t.”
“Have I done something to upset you?”
“No. It’s not you.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t see you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Cassie leaned back, a hollow stab of shock resonating through her. Tears burned her eyes.
“It’s for the best. I’m sorry.”
“That’s it? It’s for the best? Don’t I deserve better than that? Did someone complain about you dating me?” One look at his flaming cheeks was all the confirmation she needed. Cassie pushed to her feet. “Have a nice life, Pastor. Tell Lara she can have the dress after the wedding. I’ll get Danny to drop it off.” Cassie walked down the road, not caring where she went
Jack—Pastor Jack— called her name.
She was a fool. Fool me once it’s your fault; fool me twice and it’s mine.
Tears ran down her face. She’d let him take her heart, not just once, but twice and for what? Nothing. It was over. A few wonderful moments she’d treasure forever, yet stolen moments she’d regret for the rest of her life. Her steps took her into the park and down to the river. She sat on the damp bank, staring out at the ducks, swans and cygnets.
Why, Lord? Why bring him into my life just to take him away? He gave me back my confidence. He saw past my disability—the only person to do that—as not even Danny can—though he’s at least making an effort now. I thought Jack, Pastor Jack loved me, at least I hoped he did. I guess I was wrong. I’m just a parishioner, nothing more.
Cassie pulled her knees to her chest, and buried her face in them. Sobs wracked her body, leaving a huge gaping hole where her heart used to be. A light rain began to fall, matching her mood and mixing with the tears. As she sat, the rain fell harder, soaking her thin cotton shirt and denim skirt, but she didn’t move. Nothing mattered. She’d lost everything for the second time.
A hand fell on her shoulder. For a moment she thought it was Jack.
Danny stood there.
“Just go away.”
“Mum got worried when you weren’t home for dinner. I’ve been looking all over for you. Then figured you’d come here.” He paused. “Sis, you’re soaked. What’s wrong?”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Did Jack upset you?”
“It’s not his fault.” She shivered. “It’s mine.”
Danny took his coat off and wrapping it around her shoulders, pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you home and dry. Mum can fuss over you, warm you in a bath, give you dinner, and you can ring Jack.”
“Don’t want to go home. And I’m not calling Pastor Jack…there’s no point.”
“Too bad.” He wrapped an arm around her and led her to the car. “Pastor Jack? Did you two have a fight? Do I need to go and sort him out? Because I will. Pastor or no pastor, no one gets away with hurting or upsetting my sister.”
“No,” she snapped. “It’s just—just leave it, Danny. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Cassie?”
“It was a dream. A stupid fantasy I hoped would have a fairytale ending—but I’m no fairy princess. I’m a washed up, no good ex-jockey.” She shivered hard. “Prince Charming is a dream, and dreams don’t come true. It’s time I woke up.”
“Now you’re scaring me.”
“Ignore me, Danny. It’s for the best.” She got in the car and closed her eyes. Jack’s face floated before her. A hollow emptiness sat in her soul, the bitter cold on her skin creeping in to fill it.
****
Saturday it was still raining.
Jack cancelled the pony trekking and then sighed as Lara threw a tantrum. “It’s too wet. We can go next weekend if it’s dry.”
“It’s
not fair.”
“No, it isn’t. How’s the doll coming on?”
“Almost done. I shall show Auntie Cassie when it is.” She ran off back to it.
Jack leaned back in his chair, looking at the rain hitting the study windows. Horses made him think of Cassie. The doll Lara was making made him think of Cassie. The way his daughter dropped Cassie’s name into the conversation made him think of her. Even the sermon he’d emailed Bruce made him think of Cassie and the way she sat, her Bible on her lap, her legs crossed, eyes on him, listening to his every word.
The phone rang. Grateful for the interruption, he answered it. “Hello.”
“Hi, Jack. It’s Danny.”
“Hi, Jack, it’s Cassie…” A long giggle. “Oh I’m sorry…hijack…that’s a good one.”
Jack pinched his nose and closed his eyes. So much for the distraction. “Hi, Danny. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Just wanted to let you know that Cassie won’t be going trekking today—she’s sick.”
“Sick?” Jack’s voice caught in his throat, and he coughed to clear it.
“She got caught in the rain on Thursday. It’s a mild fever and sore throat, but mum’s fussing and making her stay in bed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Can I do anything?”
“No. I think you’ve done enough.”
“I’m sorry?”
Danny took a deep breath. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not going to take sides between you and Cassie. You’re my best friend, and she’s my sister. I love you both. Whatever is going on is between you and her. Just…look, I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure. Goodbye.” Jack put the phone down. It hadn’t been raining when she’d left him sitting on the bench. Was this his fault? His heart ached to hear her voice. He’d done the right thing, he was sure he had. So why does it hurt so much?
“Daddy?”
“Hey.”
“As we’re not widing, can Auntie Cassie come here for tea?”
For an instant Jack was glad Danny had called. “She isn’t well. Uncle Danny just called to say she’s sick and in bed.”
“Then we should go and see her. Make her feel better.”