The Pastor Takes a Wife Page 2

  He smiled. “I’m not going to give up on you, Megan. In business my employees used to call me bull-headed—among other things and always behind my back, of course.”

  She couldn’t help smiling.

  “Hey, how about a compromise? I won’t openly involve you—yet—and you agree to think about the youth project and how you would set it up if you were going to take charge. Then you and I can talk about your ideas. Nobody else has to know you’re even on the team if that’s what you want.”

  “Why is having me involved in this so important to you?”

  He looked a little taken aback at the question. “The truth?”

  She nodded.

  “Truth is I don’t know exactly, but my whole life I’ve gone with my instincts and there’s something about you, Megan Osbourne. Reba may have called my attention to you, but after hearing your story, I have an even stronger feeling that you’re going to be a key to my success here.”

  She saw his statement for the compliment it was and blushed. There had been a time when people in town had expected big things of her. “You know, when I was Faith’s age—I mean before…Danny—folks around here looked at me as the kid who could overcome the worst possible family situation and still make something of herself. But all that changed once I became pregnant. I had disappointed them, spoiled their hopes for my future.”

  “That was on them, Megan. Not you. I doubt you asked for the responsibility to make something of yourself just so others could feel pride. And it doesn’t mean you haven’t succeeded over the course of your life so far. It just means you deviated from the path that others set for you.”

  It had been so long since she’d thought of herself as anything more than Faith’s mother and Reba’s helper. To have this virtual stranger see beyond that was unsettling, to say the least. “I should go,” she said, glancing at the clock above his desk. “Reba will wonder how long it takes to deliver an extra blanket.” She smiled and held out her hand. “Thanks for listening and understanding.”

  For the second time that afternoon they shook hands, but this time he prolonged the grasp. “Think about it, Megan. What better way to do something for your daughter than to help me get this youth café going?”

  He had a point. Lately Faith had been mooning around about a boy whose family had been spending summers in Singing Springs for several years. At the end of the previous summer Caleb Armstrong had shown an interest in Faith. He reminded Megan a lot of Danny Moreland, and she was bound and determined that no boy would break her daughter’s heart the way Danny had broken hers.

  “Okay, you win,” she said. “But I am strictly a behind-the-scenes person.”

  “Understood.” He gave her a sharp salute. “Thanks.”

  As she walked quickly across the churchyard and down to the inn, she had trouble containing her smile and her suddenly light heart. Was it possible that Jeb was right? That the two of them might do something that would help Faith and all the youth in Singing Springs?

  But her high spirits plummeted like a kite abruptly bereft of wind when she entered the inn and heard Nellie Barnsworth lecturing Reba. The two women were standing on the inn’s expansive front porch, unaware that Megan had come in through the kitchen.

  “Now, Reba, we’re all aware that you’ve set your sights on finding a proper husband for Megan. If it weren’t so shocking it would be laughable for you to think for one moment that Megan, with her personal and family history, and a man of the cloth could ever…”

  “Hold your horses, Nellie,” Reba interrupted. “I would remind you that Jeb is our neighbor as well as our pastor. No one is trying to force anything here.”

  Megan heard Nellie snort. “You don’t fool me, Reba. I’m warning you to back off before that poor girl is hurt yet again.”

  That poor girl… How often over the course of her life had she heard that when people thought she wasn’t around? Still, Nellie had a point. Any association between her and the minister, regardless of how innocent, was bound to raise questions, concerns and eyebrows. This time she had to agree with Nellie.

  The hard part was going to be getting Reba to back off now that Nellie had challenged her.

  Chapter Two

  I t rained for most of the rest of the week and Faith got the flu, so it was fairly easy for Megan to keep her distance from Jeb. She even stayed away from church services, saying she needed to be sure Faith was all right. But Reba had not given up, and on Thursday when the sun finally broke through Megan heard the front door of the inn slam as the older woman’s heavy footsteps came down the hall. At age seventy-two Reba often suffered from crippling arthritis, especially in her hip. It was one of the reasons that Megan had taken on even more of the responsibility for running the inn.

  “Megan! We have a guest!”

  It was early in the season for anyone to visit the inn, but Megan knew that tone. She planted a smile on her face and prepared to greet the new arrival. Still, her smile froze when she realized Reba’s guest was none other than Jeb Matthews.

  “Reverend Matthews will be staying with us beginning tonight,” Reba announced in the same no-nonsense way she handled most communication. With Reba’s squat frame blocking the doorway, Jeb grinned at Megan.

  Megan forced herself to pay attention to what Reba was saying. “I told Henry Epstein that basement wall was bowed,” Reba huffed. “But would he listen? No. Had to wait for the rains to prove me right, and now here you are with a basement full of water and the roof falling in and…”

  Reba paused midsentence, as was her habit when she was on one of her rants. She took a long breath, flicked her eyes toward the ceiling, seeking forgiveness, and continued in a calmer tone. “But no matter. I’m just glad we have the room—another month and we might be fully booked but May is quieter and…”

  Jeb eased past Reba. “What is that you’re baking, Megan? It smells wonderful.”

  “It’s cinnamon rolls,” she said. “They’ll be ready soon. Would you like one?”

  “Well, of course, he wants one, Meggie. Look at the man. Hasn’t had a decent meal since he got here, running around trying to meet with everyone.”

  “They fed me,” Jeb said.

  “Rubber chicken. Time you had a good square meal, and now that you’ll be staying here you can just figure to take your meals with Megan, Faith and me.”

  “Actually, Mrs. Barnsworth mentioned she was going to bring over a casserole later. Perhaps…”

  “I’ll just bet she did,” Reba muttered, glancing at Megan. “You may as well know now, Reverend, Nellie Barnsworth sees people and events through a unique set of glasses, and unfortunately they aren’t usually rose-colored. Take everything she tells you with several grains of salt.”

  Aware that Reba was on the verge of explaining how Megan and Faith had come to live with her, Megan found her courage and her tongue. “Jeb knows all about what happened with Danny, Reba. I told him myself.”

  Reba’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and then she smiled. “Well, good for you, child.” She turned her attention back to Jeb. “Now, let’s get you settled while I call Nellie and let her know that a casserole will be most appreciated.”

  “There’s also the matter of rent,” Jeb said, reaching for his wallet.

  For a moment Megan actually felt a little sorry for the guy. She knew Reba well enough to understand that she intended to give him the room and that she did not take kindly to her gifts being rejected. She sidled behind Reba and tried to signal him to drop the subject.

  “I see you back there, missy,” Reba said.

  “Always said you had eyes in the back of your head,” Megan replied, remembering the older woman catching her at forbidden actions when she was a child.

  “In the back, on top and on either side,” Reba retorted. “Now then, Jeb, you’re new at this ministry thing as well as at living in a small town. You lived in Chicago, I believe, before coming here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He looked over at Megan for help, but the
timer chimed and Megan turned away to check on the rolls.

  “Well, I don’t know how they do neighborly things in the city—I never set foot in any town larger than Eagle River. But here if a neighbor offers you something there is no price tag attached. You get my meaning?”

  Megan set the metal baking tray on the counter with a clatter as she glanced up to see how Jeb was taking this.

  “But this place is your livelihood, and it could be several weeks before we can get the parsonage inhabitable again and…”

  Reba’s long-suffering sigh cut him off. “All right. We’ll compromise. You don’t pay rent, but you lend a hand with the chores. There’s lots to do to get a place as old as this one ready for the season. Flower beds that will need cleaning out and replanting, for instance.”

  “I’m a little out of practice, but I’m sure it will come back to me. I grew up on a farm, after all.”

  “Really? I never would have guessed.” Reba grinned. “Well, now, Megan, how fortunate for us is that?”

  “So I’ll help with the chores and, to show my appreciation for you ladies rescuing me in my hour of need, how about I take the two of you out for dinner once a week?”

  “The three of us,” Reba corrected. “Our little Faith comes with the package.”

  Megan was surprised to see the same inexplicable cloud of sadness pass over the minister’s features that she’d noticed that day in his study. She was sure there must be a connection, but couldn’t imagine what it might be. In any case, he recovered quickly and extended his hand to Reba. “Deal.”

  “Deal,” she agreed. “Right, Megan?” She jerked her head, indicating that Megan should shake Jeb’s hand, as well.

  “Deal,” she murmured, giving his hand a quick but firm grasp.

  “Good. Now how about pointing the way to my quarters so I can get settled in?”

  Reba pulled a key from a row of hooks by the back door and handed it to Megan. “Number one,” she said and winked. When Megan had been in her twenties, Reba had often had several candidates for Megan. “Number one” had always been her way of saying, “He’s at the top of the list.” Of course, none had worked out and, after one turned out to be married, she’d backed off. Megan had been relieved because she’d realized that Reba wasn’t much better than Megan at judging men other than her own late and beloved Stan.

  “This way.” Megan led the pastor down a narrow hall to a suite with its own private entrance and a view of the lake. It was the best room in the inn, which was exactly why Reba had dubbed it the honeymoon suite.

  “Wow,” Jeb said as he stepped inside and headed straight for the large window that overlooked the lake. “This is really terrific.”

  Megan watched as he explored the nooks and crannies of the suite, opening the closet, checking out the desk. Then suddenly shy at being alone with him again, she busied herself making sure the small refrigerator in the kitchenette was stocked. When she turned around Jeb was looking at the bed and frowning.

  Megan immediately understood why. Reba’s romantic side had been firmly in control when she’d decorated this room. The bed was festooned with pillows in all sizes and shapes—including heart-shaped ones—and a canopy of lace was swagged and draped above the perimeter of the large antique bed.

  “Uh, I’m six-two and, well…” Jeb scratched his head as he studied the length of the bed.

  “It’s the pillows,” Megan said, as she hurried to remove all of them except the regular bed pillows. She opened a cedar chest at the foot of the bed, pushed aside extra blankets and jammed the pillows inside. “See?”

  “Better,” he agreed, but he kept casting his eyes toward the lace canopy.

  “And that canopy cloth needs a good laundering anyway,” Megan said as she started dismantling the lace panels from the artificial rose vine that Reba had used to hold them in place. “I’ll just take it down and then once you move back to the parsonage I’ll put it back. No big deal.”

  She was babbling nervously. This was beyond ridiculous. How many guests—male guests—had she helped get settled into their rooms over the years? Some of them had even made passes at her and she’d had to bite her lip to keep from losing her professional cool and putting them in their place. Jeb was barely looking at her, much less making a pass, as he reached up and unhooked the lace from a post.

  “You’re sure Reba won’t mind?”

  “Not a bit. I’m sure she chose this room for you because it’s the only one with its own entrance, and it has the desk and the view of the lake.”

  “Inspiration?” There was that smile again.

  “Divine inspiration,” Megan said automatically, and then gasped as she realized she had just corrected a minister, a man with a doctorate of divinity. “Sorry.”

  “For what? You’re right, you know. Only God could have created something like that view.”

  Megan bundled the yards of lace into a ball. “Still, to someone like you—I mean, you probably automatically assume that God…” Oh, somebody shut me up now, she thought.

  Jeb frowned. “You know, Megan, that’s the one thing about being a minister that’s going to take some getting used to. The idea that people think I must naturally have God on my mind 24/7.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I’m just another of God’s creatures—get it? Creatures? Creations? I’m no more tuned in than you are, or Reba or Faith for that matter.”

  Megan relaxed slightly. The one thing in her life that gave her personal satisfaction was the way Faith had turned out, in spite of everything they had gone through together. “Faith is truly God’s child,” she said softly, then she smiled. “She doesn’t fully realize that yet.”

  “Anxious to find her own way. That’s pretty typical.”

  “I suppose.”

  “She’ll do it,” he said. “You did, and I suspect that growing up with two strong women like you and Reba, Faith has a better than average chance of making her way in this world.”

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  “No,” he said, and his tone was so fierce that Megan gave him her full attention. “You—and Reba—have been there every day, through everything,” he said. “That’s so important for a child.”

  Megan wasn’t sure what response he expected, so she just nodded and waited for the rest of the sermon.

  “Hey, sorry about that,” Jeb said. “Coming down out of my pulpit now.”

  “Do you need some help moving the rest of your things down? I could have Faith…”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take care of it.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve been asked to give the blessing at the Chamber of Commerce luncheon today. After that I’ll stop by the parsonage and load up my car. See you later?”

  Megan nodded and handed him the keys to his room. “Welcome to the Cranberry Hill Inn,” she said as she would have with any guest. “If there’s anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant…”

  Jeb grinned. “Two things. Save me one of those cinnamon rolls and help me get that youth café up and running.”

  Megan couldn’t help laughing. “Your employees were right, you know. You don’t give up, do you?”

  “Nope, but keep in mind that you offered—anything to make my stay more pleasant.”

  “I might have a couple of ideas,” she said.

  “Knew you would.” He gave her that self-assured grin that had single women all over town comparing him to their favorite film or television star.

  “We’ll talk,” she promised. “Later. You’re going to be late for the Chamber meeting.”

  He glanced at his watch and ran a hand through his hair as he grabbed his sport coat and headed out the open door. “Later,” he called.

  “Hey, Pastor Matthews,” Henry Epstein shouted that afternoon when Jeb stopped by the parsonage to pack. Henry and his son, Rick, were stretching blue tarps to prevent more rain from seeping through the exposed rafters. “Better pray those storm clouds over there aren’t headed this way. Last thin
g you need right now is more rain.”

  “We’ll leave the weather up to the good Lord, Henry. He has His reasons.”

  Henry removed his battered baseball cap and scratched his bald head. “Well, forgive me for saying so, Pastor, but maybe God has other things on His mind and has failed to notice your problem here.”

  Jeb laughed. “It’ll all work out, Henry. You’ll see. Let me know when the supplies are delivered and I’ll give you a hand.”

  “Tomorrow,” Henry called back and then turned his attention back to the task at hand.

  Jeb spotted Megan setting up food and lemonade on the warped picnic table that sat on one side of the house. “Henry? Reba sent you and Rick a snack,” she shouted.

  “Leave it,” Henry shouted back. “We need to finish this before those clouds open up.”

  “That’s quite a spread,” Jeb said, crossing the yard.

  “There’s plenty here,” she agreed. “I’m sure the guys wouldn’t mind if you joined them.”

  “Looks like that might be a while. Okay if I have something now? I got to talking to folks at the Chamber and never got lunch.” He sat down on one side of the picnic table and indicated a place for her.

  “Swiss or cheddar?” Megan offered.

  “How about some of each?” Jeb separated a paper plate from the stack and held it out to her as she unwrapped the cheeses and a package of crackers. She then opened a bag of chips and a container of carrot and celery sticks and offered each to Jeb.

  Jeb filled two cups with lemonade from the thermos. “It seems like I’ve been here forever and at the same time like I just arrived.”

  “You’re doing fine,” she assured him. “After all, this is all new to you. You didn’t even seem nervous that first Sunday.”

  He leaned closer and whispered, “Truth? I was terrified.”

  Megan laughed.

  “You think I’m kidding? My knees were shaking so much that I was sure those people in the front pews could hear them knocking together. I imagined someone saying, ‘What’s that clicking sound?’ just when I reached the high point of my sermon.”