Just the Way You Are
A Novella
Seasons of Hope series book 2
Jessica R. Patch
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Copyright © 2015 Jessica R. Patch, All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by James, Goonwrite.com 2015
This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the author, except a reviewer who wishes to use brief passages in connection with a review or article.
Author is represented by Rachel Kent of Books & Such Literary Management.
Dedication
To my Faith-Readers book club. I love you ladies more than you could ever know. Your support and encouragement has carried me through discouraging times. Your laughter is contagious. Your love for Christ is immense. Thank you for being just who you are and loving me for my crazy, silly self.
To Jesus the Lover of my soul, faithful Friend, Shepherd of my heart: I love you.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter ONE
Chapter TWO
Chapter THREE
Chapter FOUR
Chapter FIVE
Chapter SIX
Chapter SEVEN
Chapter EIGHT
Chapter NINE
Chapter TEN
Chapter ELEVEN
A note from the author
About the author
Acknowledgments
“For You formed my inward parts;
You covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works,
And that my soul knows very well.”
Psalm 139:13-14 NKJV
CHAPTER ONE
“What…is…going…on?” Audrey Gilbraith gaped at the emptying parking spaces, her jaw hanging open. She was only twenty-ish minutes late for church which was a big deal considering she missed the entire worship service pretty much every Sunday, God forgive her.
She didn’t live above the florist shop she managed for kicks. It kept her from getting fired for one too many tardies. Not that Dotty or Sharon Harris would sack her. She’d been working for the wacky sisters since she was a sophomore in high school, minus the one semester in college she tried to forget.
But today, she’d foregone straight-ironing her hair, and she’d picked her attire out the night before, hoping she wouldn’t be that late. Plus, she had to run downstairs and put the finishing touch on a flower arrangement she’d made for Widow Carlson. Without her husband the last few years, she’d clung to her kitty, Bo-Bo. He died yesterday and Audrey wanted to cheer her up the only way she knew how. Lord, please don’t let me miss her!
She checked the time on her car clock. 10:52. Service started at 10:30. Crud.
Giving a haphazard wave to Leonard and Betsy-the-busybody-Davis, Audrey sighed as Betsy shook her head and tapped the watch on her meaty wrist. Audrey’s oversized Gucci knock-off sunglasses concealed her eye roll. Tossing her keys in her handbag, she stepped out into the frigid March breeze, thanking the Lord that unusual warm weather was headed their way. A gust of wind blew her skirt, but she caught it before it turned into a Marilyn Monroe act.
Eden, her BFF, exited the church. Her husband, Knox, stayed hot on her heels, helping her down the steps. She was eight weeks pregnant, not an invalid. It was cute as all get out to watch, though.
“Nice to see you could make it, Audrey.” Knox shoved a peppermint stick in his mouth and chuckled.
If she didn’t like him so much, she might have tossed him a smart remark. She might still. “Those things are going to rot your teeth.”
“Better than rotting my lungs with smokes.” He slid his shades over his eyes and laced his hand with Eden’s. Audrey’s heart pinched. If anyone deserved to be happy it was Eden, and Audrey was over-the-moon for her. Knox spoiled Eden rotten and loved her like a crazy fool. But she’d love to be loved by a crazy fool. A little over four years ago, she thought she was going to get the dream. Until he backed out of the engagement after discovering what had happened during that semester in college when she was eighteen.
“You didn’t set your clock forward?” Eden shoved her hair off her face. The wind flicked it right back. “Didn’t we discuss this yesterday?”
Audrey groaned. She’d forgotten to spring forward. And yes, they had. She puffed her cheeks and blew a sigh from her lips. No wonder Betsy pointed at her watch. “How was the sermon?”
“Audrey Gilbraith! You’ll be late to your own funeral.” Sierra Bradley stepped out of the church with a mile-wide grin. “Shame you missed the service. It was a timely word.” As if tardiness was a cardinal sin.
Behind her, Pastor Gabe Brookson smirked.
Way to call attention to the fact she’d missed church. And did she mean timely to be clever or to point out one of the many faults Audrey held not so dear? “God’s giving me points for a pure heart.” Couldn’t say the same for that chick. Everyone knew she was stalking Gabe. Pfft. Okay, Audrey knew it.
Sierra made it down the stairs and swiveled toward Gabe, her long red hair blazing like fire in the wind. “Promise? I think you’ll love it. It’s even better than the tomato basil we had last Friday. I’ll make homemade crackers.”
Sierra and Gabe had tomato basil together?
Gabe nodded and shook hands with a few members filing out of the church. “I promise.”
And now he was promising to taste new soup? Sierra owned a small bistro near Walter McMahan’s business. Maybe Eden could keep tabs on that little lunch escapade while doing her dad’s books. Make sure Sierra Bradley kept her crackers to herself.
Audrey could make soup. Didn’t even need a can opener with the new pop-tops Progresso used now. And a box of Premium saltines went a long way.
Sierra beamed and touched Gabe’s shoulder. Knock it away, Gabe. You don’t want to tangle with that siren. Okay, that might have been harsh. Sierra wasn’t a siren, she was actually really sweet, but something about the display set Audrey’s teeth on edge.
The sun drew golden glints from Gabe’s toasted-brown hair. Thick. Short but stylishly tousled. No comb-overs or slicked back hair for this preacher, and his skin always had a naturally bronze glow. Audrey felt like a corpse next to him, but she’d deal with it because he smelled like a long hot shower and yummy, liquid fabric softener. Good grief, she shouldn’t be thinking of a pastor like that. And why was she anyway? They were friends. Besides, he was too good for her. She could never be more than friends with a pastor.
“Tomorrow. I can stop by then. That okay?” Sierra asked.
“Has anybody seen Eli?” Eden pursed her lips and scanned the churchyard. Kids were running wild, parents hollering for them to get a move
on. With only a handful of restaurants in town, it was a race to lunch every Sunday.
Audrey missed Gabe’s response to the soup invitation, but by the way Sierra glided to her car, he’d said yes.
Gabe grinned as he closed the distance between them. “Didn’t spring forward this morning, did you?”
“Apparently, I don’t spring anywhere.” Not parties, graduations, weddings, coffee dates…
“You should use your cell phone for an alarm,” Eden interjected. “I knew I should have called you this morning.”
“Well, why didn’t you?” Audrey’s words burst from her lips a little louder and sharper than intended. A few congregants paused to stare. “What?” Audrey tossed her hands up and thrust her head forward. “I forgot to spring.”
A few snickers wafted through the air.
“No need to go all Tony Soprano.” Knox waved at Eli. The kid was in double digits already. Seemed like just yesterday he was wearing footie pajamas and playing with action figures. He fist bumped a few buddies and hustled their way. Maybe Audrey had gone a little mafioso. But she was embarrassed enough already.
“I put a pot roast in the oven this morning. Should be ready in another hour. Come eat with us.” Eden handed Knox the keys, and he and Eli headed for the truck. “Gabe, you’re still coming, right?”
Audrey’s stomach growled.
“Yeah,” Gabe said then turned to Audrey. “I’ll give you the cliff notes version of the sermon.”
Perks of being a preacher. He ate for free all the time. Perks of not knowing how to cook had Eden inviting Audrey over all the time, too.
“My mom’s cooking today. I should probably go over there, and I need to run by the cemetery.” Time to replace the flowers on April’s grave. Would it ever get easier? Her baby sister had been gone for over twenty years now.
Eden squeezed her hand. “I can come with.”
She’d been offering since Audrey had first begun her ritual, and she’d been turning Eden down as long. This was a private moment.
“No thanks.”
Gabe’s brow crinkled. April wasn’t a topic of conversation she’d ever had with him. In fact, her sister wasn’t a town topic. Their memories of her death had burned out like the house-fire that night. Audrey glanced at the church, remembering the charred wood and smoke that had nearly taken it from them. It’d been tough to walk Eden through that disaster. At least some good came from it. Nothing good had come from April’s death.
“I can always give you the cliff notes another time.” Gabe’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Was he disappointed she wasn’t coming? Why would he be?
“Rain check.” The parking lot had cleared out. Just a few deacons’ cars left while they counted the offering and locked up. She’d missed Widow Carlson. Oh well, she’d just run the flowers by her house on the way to Mom’s, maybe invite Ms. Carlson to eat lunch with them.
Audrey noticed the parsonage Eden used to live in had a fresh coat of paint. How long had that been there? Eden always kept a lush flower garden, with Audrey’s help. Daffodils were blooming and tulips had started to sprout, but it was in pitiful shape.
Gabe turned his head and followed her line of sight. “I painted last week.”
“Didn’t help your flower bed. It’s on its way to hell in a hand basket.” Audrey bit her tongue as heat filled her cheeks. Did she really just say that? “I mean—it’s…”
“You’re right.” Gabe chuckled. “Maybe I could rope you into resurrecting it.”
“Maybe,” she muttered. “I should go.” ASAP before she ended up insulting his shrubbery. It was equally terrifying. “I’ll call you later, Ede.” She hurried to her car, then glanced back at Gabe. He was entirely too attractive. Rotten shame he was a preacher.
He waved.
She crunched the inside of her bottom lip and slipped inside her car. No way could she let herself entertain romantic ideas of Gabriel Brookson.
She buckled up as her phone belted out “Funky Town.” Why was her boss calling?
“Hey Sharon. What can I do for you this fine Sunday morning I’ve forgotten to spring forward?”
“Can you come by the house? We need to talk.”
“No brunch today? Wow. Are you firing me?” she teased, and dug through her music collection until she found the newest Kari Jobe CD. As long as Audrey knew the Harris sisters, they’d spent Sundays in Chicago having brunch and piddling the day away.
Sharon’s wan laugh sent a squeeze in her gut. “Of course not.”
But something was wrong. “Is Dotty okay?”
“Sure, hon. We’re fine. She bought a bucket of fried chicken and biscuits. Let’s eat and then…well…we have a matter to discuss with you.”
“Like what? You’re scaring me. She didn’t run off and get married again, did she?” The familiar joke fell flat, though it really wasn’t funny to begin with. Dotty really needed a woman-at-the-well moment in her life. Yep, something was definitely wrong. Or Dotty Harris really had run off and married husband number six.
A heavy sigh filtered through the line. “We’ve sold the business, Audrey.”
***
Gabe sat in the upstairs office at the Hope Center—a place that used to be The Penalty Box bar—staring at his laptop screen. Almost lunch time and yesterday’s pot roast still sat heavy. His afternoon at Knox and Eden’s hadn’t been as entertaining as he’d hoped. Mostly because Audrey hadn’t shown up. She was unpredictable. What you saw was what you got with her and that was refreshing. So many people slipped on masks the minute they found out Gabe was a pastor. As if that warranted a particular behavior.
He closed his laptop and looked around the room. This place had come so far since being a bar, and Gabe spent most of his time here, when he wasn’t at the church office. People seemed more comfortable seeking counsel in a facility like this rather than a church building. He’d just finished a pre-marital counseling session with Jimmy Sims and Tiffany Lampke. It went well. The couple had a solid foundation and appeared to have a lasting future ahead of them.
Although, who ever really knew if a future was lasting. He’d been married six months before his wife had drowned on a youth trip. Gabe’s world had crumbled and so had his faith. He’d bowed out of all ministries after that. Four long years of misery before he’d come crawling back to the open arms of his Savior. And God had been good enough to bring him here to not only a pastor’s position as a single man—which wasn’t always the norm—but the senior pastor position. A true miracle.
Didn’t mean the women in the congregation—and some of the men—hadn’t consistently tried to set him up and marry him off. Cousins. Daughters. Friends. It was slightly overwhelming. He’d come to this small town in Illinois and met a beautiful, quirky blonde with two cats and had instantly been attracted.
But it hadn’t been the time to think about pursuing a relationship with Audrey. He had a town to adjust to and a congregation to build, then the Hope Center came along. Finally, this past Christmas he’d asked her to coffee a few times and one lunch in hopes of making a romantic connection, and Audrey Gilbraith squarely put him in the friend-zone.
He sighed as a knock came on his office door. “It’s open.”
Knox Everhart stepped inside. “I was headed in to town when Eden called. Said you probably turned the ringer off in your office. Counseling session. You not got your cell on ya?”
“I did turn it off. Figured since it was almost the lunch hour, the machine could pick it up.” Gabe scanned his desk and patted his jeans pockets. “I must have left my cell in the car. Why?”
“Rosemary Veltz passed. Hour ago.” Knox straddled a chair by the door. “Eden said you’d been by there yesterday.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Gabe closed his eyes. “How’s her daughter holding up?” Marla had been a wreck last night when Gabe stopped by on his way home from Knox’s.
“I don’t know. Eden’s on her way over now with a casserole. Woman keeps a freezer full.”
> Eden was thoughtful like that, and used to being a pastor’s wife until she’d been widowed. The congregation had taken awhile before they looked to Gabe for answers over Eden, but when it came to the feminine side they still looked to her some.
“I’m so sick of cancer.” Gabe grabbed a pack of mints from his top drawer and popped one. “She already told us what she wanted as far as funeral arrangements, but I’ll head over that way.”
“Knock knock.” Sierra Bradley popped her head in the doorway. The scent of garlic and herbs wafted past her. Today he was supposed to try the new soup. “I come bringing rosemary cream of chicken soup with homemade crackers. As promised.”
Knox turned his head. “Enough for three?”
Sierra smiled. “Of course. Eden, too, if she’s not busy. It’ll stay warm if you want to call her.” She entered and sat a crockpot on a small table near his desk. “I’m not intruding, am I? I’m a little early.”
“No…no.” Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. Sierra was sweet, smart, and pretty. She could cook like nobody’s business, but the spark just wasn’t there. He hoped she realized that. He’d never flirted with her or asked her out. Sierra was hard to read. Women, in general, were hard to read. “Rosemary passed away an hour ago.”
Sierra’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. You should go. In fact, take this with you. There’s plenty and if I need to make more, I can.”
Knox stood. “I’ll take it down. Thanks, Sierra.”
“Has Eden made the calls to the women on the benevolence team? If not, I can do that. I have the list.” Sierra handed off the crockpot and hooked the basket of crackers and what appeared to be a dessert on Knox’s arm. “Gabe, you need me to do anything else? Call Audrey and get a floral arrangement set up for the visitation?”
“I’m pretty sure Millie has taken care of that. You can call to make sure. That’d be great.” He’d hired the woman in her mid-sixties to be the church secretary. Nice safe age. No church gossip about what a single pastor might be doing with her behind closed church doors. Sadly, it happened. All too often. If only she could work the internet better.
Just the Way You Are (Seasons of Hope Book 2) Page 1