Читать книгу Hosea's Bride - Dorothy Clark - Страница 9

“Hello, the house!”

Angela smiled at the familiar call. “I’m in the library, Leigh.”

“Where else?” The sound of footsteps approached down the hallway. A shiny curtain of smooth red hair swung into Angela’s view as Leigh Roberts stuck her head around the door casing. “You don’t look ready to leave for the welcome dinner at church. How much longer will you be?”

Angela stopped typing and smiled at her best friend. “Give me ten more minutes.”

“That’s cutting it pretty close. I want to make a good impression on the new pastor, and so should you.” Leigh waggled her eyebrows. “He’s young and single, you know. And I hear he’s a hunk.”

Angela laughed. “I’m supposed to be the information expert. I swear, Leigh, if I had your sources I’d be a millionaire.”

“No doubt.” Leigh grinned, then gave an audible sniff. “What is that divine smell?”

“I’m experimenting with a new cinnamon syrup to pour on the apple pies they asked me to bake for the welcome dinner. Have a taste. I’ll be right along.” Angela waved her friend off to the kitchen and turned back to her computer.

“There he is.” Leigh’s green eyes widened. “Wow! He is a hunk.”

Laughing at her friend’s enthusiastic, under-her-breath comment, Angela turned to follow the direction of Leigh’s appreciative gaze and found herself looking straight into her past. It was so unexpected she could only stare as her past and present walked toward her in the form of their new, tall, blond pastor.

“Angela? What’s wrong?”

Leigh’s sudden grip on her arm broke the numbing paralysis of the shock. Angela shook her head. “Nothing.” She had to get out of there before he saw her! If she could reach the back door—

“Nothing?” Leigh stared at her friend. “You’re as white as that little lie you just told me.” She pulled a chair forward. “Sit down before you pass out. I’ll go get you some water, unless—” Her eyes narrowed as she studied Angela’s face. “Are you going to be ill? Do you need me to help you to the ladies’ room?”

The ladies’ room! She would be safe there until she could think what to do. Angela shot Leigh a look of gratitude and shook her head. “No, thanks. I can make it on my own. You stay here. I’ll—”

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet our new pastor.”

Too late! Angela’s stomach heaved. Lord, don’t let me be sick. She drew a long, deep breath, rose to her feet and turned around as Walter Foster, one of the elders of the church, continued his introduction.

“Pastor Stevens, this is Leigh Roberts and Angela Warren. They are in charge of special activities. If you need someone to come up with interesting ideas for outings, make unusual and beautiful decorations, or research a missionary project these are the women you call on.”

Hosea Stevens smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He reached for Leigh’s extended hand. “Do I address you as Miss or Mrs. Roberts? Or do you prefer Ms.?”

Leigh laughed. “Ms. is too generic a term for my liking, Pastor Stevens. And I’m not a Mrs. for a few months yet. Actually, it’s Dr. Roberts. But that’s too formal. Call me Leigh—everyone does.”

“Then Leigh it is.” The pastor gave her another smile and turned to take Angela’s offered hand.

“And you, Angela Warren?” His gaze skimmed over her face. “Are you married or modern or—?”

“It’s Miss Warren, Pastor Stevens. I’m not married, or modern.” His strong fingers curled more tightly around her hand.

“You’re shaking, Miss Warren. And your hand is like ice. Are you ill?”

There was genuine concern in his voice. Angela’s eyes filled. It had been six years, but she remembered that concern. She shook her head and looked down at their joined hands. Father God, please—make him let go of my hand. Help me to get out of here! She gave a little tug and Pastor Stevens released her hand.

“You are pale, Angela.” Walter Foster stepped closer and laid a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you should take her home, Leigh.”

“No! I—I mean, no…please.” The last thing she wanted was Leigh fussing over her and asking her questions. Angela forced a smile. “There’s no reason for Leigh to miss the meeting. I’m perfectly capable of taking myself home.”

She didn’t dare look at Hosea Stevens. Instead, she grabbed the purse she’d laid on the table and turned toward her friend. “Leigh, can you—?”

“Don’t worry about me, Angela. Barbara Adams can drop me off at your place to pick up my car.” Leigh’s voice took on its professional tone as she studied Angela’s face. “Are you certain you’re able to drive home?”

Angela nodded her head. “I’ll be fine. And I’ll expect a full report on the meeting in the morning.” She opened her purse and searched for her car keys as an excuse not to have to look at the men. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me—” She jumped as Leigh’s hand touched her forehead.

“You don’t have a fever, Angela, but still, I think you must have picked up that summer flu bug that’s going around. Drink lots of liquids, and go straight to bed. And if you need anything, call me. Otherwise, I’ll check on you tomorrow, I won’t wake you when I get the car.”

Angela nodded and turned toward the exit.

“I hope you feel better soon, Miss Warren. We’ll remember you in our prayers.”

Angela paused with her hand on the push bar of the glass door and glanced back over her shoulder. “Thank you, Pastor Stevens.” A shiver ran through her as their gazes touched. Quickly, she pushed the door open, stepped out into the warm summer evening and hurried to her car.

The keys in Angela’s hand jingled as another nervous tremor shook her body. She stared down at them, frowned, then slowly lifted her head and swept a startled gaze around her bedroom. She didn’t remember driving home.

Dropping the keys onto her dresser, she hurried to the dormer windows and yanked the curtains closed. Even here, in the place that had been her home for the last six years, she felt exposed. Was there no place she could be safe from the past?

Angela turned and threw herself onto the bed as the pain in her heart swelled and spread. She had worked so hard to leave her past behind. No one in the town of Harmony knew about her—no one—until now.

Oh, why had Pastor Hosea Stevens come here?

A sob erupted from Angela’s throat into the quiet of the room. She buried her face in her pillow as the tears began to flow.

“Hello?”

“Angela! Finally! If that machine had answered one more time I was going to get in the car and drive over there.”

“Hello, Leigh.”

“Hi. Sorry about that tirade, but this is the third time I’ve called, and I was getting worried. How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” Angela rolled over onto her back and covered her swollen, burning eyes with her free arm.

“I’m not surprised. I’ve never seen the flu hit anyone so hard or fast. I thought you were going to faint.” There was a significant pause. “Our new pastor seemed quite concerned about you.”

Oh, no! Angela bolted to a sitting position. She could almost hear Leigh’s eyebrows waggling over the phone, and the last thing she needed was for her friend to start playing matchmaker.

“No comment, eh? All right. All right. Your silence is shouting at me. We’ll discuss Pastor Stevens another time. Is there anything you need? Chicken soup or something?” Leigh’s low laughter came floating over the wire. “Not that I can make any. But I can run to the store and buy you some.”

Angela sank back down onto her pillow and covered her eyes. Her head was spinning from her sudden movement. “Thanks, Leigh, but I’m fine for now.”

“Okay. I’ll hang up so you can rest. But if you’re not better by tomorrow I’m paying you a professional visit after church. Even OBs know how to treat the flu. Oops—I’m being paged. Call if you need me. Bye.”

Church? Tomorrow was Sunday! Angela’s stomach churned. She slammed the receiver down and ran for the bathroom. What was she to do about church? What was she to do about her life?

She reached the bathroom just in time.

The teakettle whistled.

Angela read the Bible verses one more time, then went to make her tea as she pondered them. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

The words were comforting, but were they her answer? Angela carried her tea back to the table and read the verses again. They would certainly apply to—

The sharp ring of the telephone made her jump. She started toward the counter to pick up the receiver, then stopped. What if it was him? She held her breath, waiting for the answering machine to click on.

“Miss Warren? This is Pastor Stevens. I’m calling to see how you’re feeling.”

Hosea Stevens’s deep, rich voice filled the small kitchen.

“I hope the fact that your machine has answered means you are up and about. But until I know for certain I will keep you in my prayers.”

No! She didn’t want him thinking about her.

“By the way, I understand I have you to thank for the delicious apple pie. That cinnamon syrup was wonderful! I’d move halfway across the country for a treat like that anytime.” There was a low, soft chuckle. “Don’t tell my mother, though, she prides herself on her baking.” The machine clicked off.

Angela took a deep breath and glanced down at her Bible on the table. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart….”

The words seemed to leap off the page at her. For a long moment she stood staring down at them; then, slowly, she sank down onto the chair. She did trust the Lord—but Pastor Hosea Stevens was another matter. One word from him about her past, and her life in Harmony would be ruined. Leigh and the other friends she had made would certainly shun her. She hadn’t the strength or courage to face that. She would have to move and start again.

Tears filled Angela’s eyes. Things had been going so well. Was she to be punished all her life for her past sin? She crossed her arms over the Bible and hid her face against them, consumed by shame.

“Lord, I know I deserve whatever happens. But I’m so sorry for the things I’ve done. And I know I’ve asked You many times before, but I ask You again to forgive me. Oh, Lord, please forgive me. And help me, Lord. Help me to trust You for the answer to this situation. I ask it in Your precious, holy name. Amen.”

Angela drew a deep breath and rose to her feet. There was a scripture in the book of James that said something about faith without works being dead—she didn’t want to be guilty of that. She was going to have to do something tangible to prove she trusted the Lord.

With a sigh that came all the way from her toes, Angela closed her Bible, picked up her cup of tea, and, against all her own instinct and desire, headed for the bedroom to select the outfit she would wear to church tomorrow.

“Wow! He looks like a dream, and preaches like a house afire.” Leigh clapped her hand over her heart and rolled her eyes toward heaven. “I think I’m in love!”

Nervous as she was, Angela couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s outrageous enthusiasm. “Better not let your fiancé hear you say that.” She glanced over her shoulder at them both as she filed out of the row.

Leigh laughed and followed her. “Phil understands. Don’t you, Phil?” She grinned at the exaggerated growl of agreement from her intended, put her hand on Angela’s shoulder and tugged. “Hey, what’s the big rush? I’m knocking into people here.” She smiled down at the older woman beside her. “Sorry, Mrs. Boyer.”

Angela slowed her steps, then had to stop entirely for a toddler that escaped his mother’s grasp and darted in front of her. People closed in around her. She’d never seen the church so crowded. Had the entire membership turned out to hear the new pastor preach his first sermon?

She raised up on tiptoe to scan the crowd for a less congested pathway to the door and her heart sank. There was no reason to hurry now—Hosea Stevens was already at the front doors shaking hands. How had he made it through the press of people so quickly?

Angela frowned, and darted a glance toward the side exits. Maybe she could avoid him that way. An elbow jabbed into her ribs. She sighed. It was no use—she would never be able to reach those doors through the crush of people. She took a firmer grip on her Bible and inched her way forward with the crowd.

“Miss Warren!” Hosea Stevens smiled and reached for her hand. “I’m so pleased you are feeling well enough to attend this morning’s service. Are you fully recovered?”

“Not fully, Pastor Stevens, but with the Lord’s help I will be.”

“Amen to that. The Lord never fails. And you, Leigh—” Hosea released her hand and turned toward her friend. “I’m happy to see you….”

Their voices faded away as Angela stepped through the open door and almost danced her way down the stairs to the sidewalk. He didn’t recognize her! She had been worrying over nothing.

“Angela. Wait a minute!” Leigh dodged around an elderly couple on the sidewalk and hurried toward her. “Phil and I are going to Romans for lunch with Patty and Doug and we want you to come.”

Angela looked over at the people waiting for Leigh by Phil’s car. “I don’t think so, Leigh. I’d be a fifth wheel and—”

“Angela Warren, you know none of us feel like that! Now, come on, it’ll be fun.” Leigh linked her arm through Angela’s and started back toward the others. “But…if you’re serious about that fifth wheel thing, I could invite Phil’s brother Bob.”

Angela dug in her heels and Leigh almost tripped. She heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right—no men for you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. But I still don’t see what you have against them.” Leigh brushed a long lock of red hair back out of her eyes and started walking again. “Every single man in this church between the ages of—no, just make that every single man in this church—is crazy about you, Angela. And you won’t give any of them a chance. I don’t get it.” She gave her a sidelong look. “Some of them are really nice.”

“I know they are, Leigh.” Angela met Leigh’s gaze. “We’ve been over this before. I just don’t want any romantic involvement with anyone. I like my life the way it is. Okay?”

“Okay.” Leigh lifted her mouth in a roguish grin. “But you may not have any say in the matter.”

Angela stopped walking and stared up at her. “What does that mean? What are you talking about?”

Leigh’s grin grew wider. “I’ve been praying for you. That’s what I’m talking about. Now come on.” She linked her arm through Angela’s and tugged. “Phil made reservations for one o’clock and I don’t want to lose our table—I’m starving!”