Читать книгу A Canyon Springs Courtship - Glynna Kaye - Страница 12

Chapter Three

“At least she didn’t say anything about me in her first post from Canyon Springs, Abe.” Jake stared at the laptop he’d placed on the kitchen table next to his Sunday morning breakfast. “As an elected official, I sure don’t want to get a reputation as being an opponent of the press. That could haunt me to the steps of the state capitol. I’ll have to be more careful around her. Stay on my toes. Or better yet, avoid her altogether.”

He scrolled through the Hometowns With Heart blog again, studying several photos taken of the snowy landscape outside Kit’s Lodge. It was quite a contrast from the saguaro cactus and bright flowers she’d posted the previous morning from Phoenix—the Valley of the Sun. His gaze lingered on one photo in particular.

“There she is, buddy, in her sandals and sundress next to a scrawny, two-foot high snowman. Can you believe it?”

He shook his head and glanced over at Abe, who sat patiently by the back door, his brown beagle eyes trained hopefully on his master. Jake smiled. He loved that dog even though it had been Macy who’d badgered him into adopting the little guy from the Central Missouri Humane Society. A puppy, of all things, which had to be potty trained, then fed and walked every day. He’d never done anything that crazy in his whole life. But then, his brain had come unglued during those seven or eight months he’d spent around Macy.

It wasn’t a period in his life he was proud of.

And yet...

Abe—named after Jake’s favorite president—whimpered.

“Hang on, I’m almost done here.” He took another bite of oatmeal, his attention once again trained on the graceful form and laughing eyes of the pretty journalist. She seemed to be enjoying herself, oblivious to the whipping wind that had blown her long hair into a golden aura.

Mouth suddenly dry, Jake drank the remainder of his orange juice. He knew now he’d fallen for her, a woman like none he’d ever met, that first day at the estate sale. Most women considered him too stodgy. Staid. Too focused on the needs of his clients. It’s what made him a good attorney. But he hadn’t had the experience—or the sense—to recognize his own vulnerability to a flirtatious female who acted as if he was the most tempting thing she’d ever seen on her love life’s menu.

Last fall he hadn’t felt compelled to enlighten his fellow council members on the history he shared with the vivacious blogger...and risk losing their hard-earned respect. Keeping silent hadn’t seemed too chancy. After all, what were the statistical odds of his hometown being selected from among hundreds vying for her attention?

Pretty high as it turned out.

“I feel as if I should warn everyone, Abe, but wouldn’t sharing now what I know of her be akin to closing the barn door after the horse got out?”

And how would his clients and constituency react? Would they be able to trust a man who’d broken a professional confidence all because he’d let his guard down with a woman who wasn’t even his wife? He could almost hear the snickers, the comparison of his indiscretion to that of the biblical Sampson and Delilah. That wasn’t something he needed with the vice mayor opening up for grabs.

The tricolored dog whined, almost as if recognizing what Jake knew too well. That, regrettably, his earlier decision to withhold the whole story could end up a sin of omission he and the entire town might come to regret.

“Okay, maybe I came on too strong with her yesterday. Gus is right, none of us need to be getting ourselves on her wrong side.” He scrolled down through the blog post again, then back to the photo. “Do you think I should apologize?”

Abe moved restlessly by the door just as Jake caught a glimpse of the clock above the sink. “Whoa!”

He looked down in alarm at his grungy sweats, then jumped to his feet and rapidly crossed the floor. Opening the door to the fenced-in backyard, he motioned to Abe. “You’d better get out there and do your business, mister, or I’ll be late for church.”

Would Macy be there? Would he have an opportunity to talk to her and smooth things over? Could he prevent a well-meaning churchgoer from signing her up for the prayer chain calls? That privilege would provide her with direct access to every illness, financial problem, kid woe or faltering marriage in town.

He’d better get moving.

As it turned out, he needn’t have rushed. Even with a slight detour to pass by the property Granddad had willed to the city, something that had become a habit in recent days to assure himself all was still as it should be, he was among the early arrivals for the worship service at Canyon Springs Christian Church.

“How’s the book going?” The youthful-looking pastor, Jason Kenton, handed him a stack of bulletins for distribution. As a deacon, one of Jake’s many church-related responsibilities was to meet and greet on Sunday mornings.

“It’s coming along.” Although not nearly as fast as he’d hoped. He wished Grandma had mentioned months ago that Granddad was working on a history of the town, hoping to have it printed for the community’s eighty-fifth birthday celebration at the end of next month. Jake was determined to finish it.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly considering how Granddad was never one to brag about himself, he hadn’t included a chapter on his own life as one of the town’s influential citizens. Jake intended to rectify that omission. But the clock was ticking.

“Lots of people are looking forward to reading that book.” The pastor scrubbed his hand along his close-cropped beard. “Hey, I guess you already know the Hometowns With Heart lady arrived yesterday. Reyna and the kids met her at a welcome reception at Kit’s last night. I’d stayed here late to polish up my sermon notes, so I missed out.”

“She’ll be here for a month. I’m sure you’ll get your opportunity.” But don’t say anything to her you don’t want to see in her blog. Jake held up the bulletins, not eager to continue a conversation about Macy. “I’d better get to my post.”

He tucked his Bible under his arm and stationed himself on the sidewalk between the parking lot and main entrance to the native-stone building set back in the pines. The air was pleasantly cool and pine scented but, typical of springtime snows, yesterday’s frosty deposit had all but melted away. Only traces remained in the most deeply shaded areas.

Jake raised his hand in greeting at the approaching Diaz family, a pang of envy reverberating as he watched second-grader Davy proudly grasp the hand of his father and that of his very pregnant stepmother. Joe had announced at the church’s Thanksgiving feast last fall that he and his wife, high school teacher Meg, had a baby conveniently timed to arrive when the spring semester concluded.

“Good to see you, Joe.” Jake shook his friend’s hand. “You, too, Meg.”

The perky brunette rolled her eyes. “There’s a lot more of me to see than there used to be.”

Jake grinned and ruffled Davy’s hair, then watched thoughtfully as the family entered the building. Father and son bonds—that’s something he didn’t know much about firsthand from either the father or son standpoint.

“Jake!”

He turned to see Paris Perslow approaching from the education wing. A dark-haired young woman with smoke-gray eyes, Paris was the epitome of class. Elegance.

This morning she was dressed in a cranberry wool jacket, matching skirt and black heels, reminding him why in recent days he’d given serious consideration to asking her out. She’d make a perfect partner for a man in public office. Active in social and charitable organizations, she had an impeccable reputation. They had much in common, too, as descendants of the town’s most respected residents. Most important, he couldn’t imagine her ever betraying a trust. Only the fact that a sadness still lingered in her eyes from the death of her fiancé several years ago had held him back.

But maybe it was time to help her—and himself—move on?

“Good morning, Paris.”

She smiled that gracious smile of hers, but before he could tell her how lovely she looked, something behind him caught her attention. With a soft gasp of delight, her delicate eyebrows lifted. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

Her?

He followed Paris’s riveted gaze toward the parking lot. Don James, fellow councilman and brother of Larry, had arrived with his family and he was holding open the vehicle’s door for none other than Macy Colston. Wearing a trim, belted, turquoise dress, a white sweater draped over her shoulders, she glowed with eagerness as her gaze swept her surroundings.

He should have known Macy wouldn’t miss church. While she hadn’t grown up in a believing family and had had her share of faith struggles, by the time he’d met her as a senior in college she’d made that life-changing decision.

“It is the Hometowns with Heart woman.” Paris moved forward, excitement now lighting her eyes. “Did you see her blog this morning with the adorable snowman? Come on, Jake, let’s go meet her.”

When he held back, she turned, her gaze questioning. Then she laughed. “You’ve already met her haven’t you? I forgot as a city councilman you have a front row seat to welcome incoming celebrities.”

Like Canyon Springs got many of those.

“Yeah, I’ve met her.” Over Paris’s shoulder he could see Macy heading toward the church, Don’s two grade school-aged grandchildren hopping along beside her and chatting excitedly. They wouldn’t be readers of her blog, but apparently someone had conveyed that she wasn’t your average church service visitor.

Behind Macy’s back, a curly-haired Don grinned at him like a kid who’d been let in on a big secret. He nodded knowingly toward the pretty blonde, signaling with a thumbs-up.

Jake frowned.

“Oh, don’t be grumpy.” Paris, having missed Don’s antics behind her, grasped his arm and tugged gently. “Introduce me properly so she doesn’t think I’m only another rabid fan.”

He needed to speak to Macy in private, not in a superficial social setting with Don clowning around in the background. But gazing into Paris’s hope-filled eyes, what other choice did he have?

* * *

The moment she stepped from the SUV, Macy spotted Jake with the stylishly dressed woman and her heart inexplicably lurched. No, he didn’t wear a ring, but her hasty conclusion that there was no one special in his life was obviously erroneous.

Now they approached her as a couple, the smiling woman’s arm linked with Jake’s. With the older councilman’s rambunctious grandkids hanging on to her own hands, she felt at a disadvantage as the stunning female closed the ground between them.

Jake appeared uncomfortable as well, although whether from remembering how their last encounter had ended in Kit’s parking lot yesterday or because he’d neglected to mention a lady in his life, she couldn’t be sure. While the omission irritated her, she couldn’t hold it against him since she hadn’t commented on her own relationship status. Besides, other topics had dominated their heated discussion.

Thankfully, Don’s wife stepped forward to pry the hands of her granddaughters from Macy’s, then herded the girls toward the church.

“Good morning, Macy.” Jake, looking more handsome today than yesterday, nodded a greeting. “I’d like you to meet Paris Perslow. Paris, this is Macy Colston, of Hometowns With Heart fame.”

The woman released Jake’s arm and reached out exquisitely manicured hands to grasp Macy’s. “I know you’ve probably heard this a million times, but your blog almost makes me feel as if I know you, Macy.”

This sophisticated-looking woman read her blog? That must annoy Jake to no end considering he’d voted against bringing its host here. Had he told her about their regrettable past relationship? If she had an awareness of shared history between her man and Macy, Paris’s serene expression didn’t reveal any telltale signs.

“It’s always wonderful to be welcomed like an old friend wherever I go.” Macy avoided Jake’s gaze, concerned his lady friend might pick up on it if she gave him a too-pointed stare. “That’s one of the joys of my blog.”

“I can’t believe you’re here in Canyon Springs. I’ve been reading your posts for years.” Paris smiled up at Jake. “Remember that rhubarb cobbler you couldn’t get enough of at the Labor Day picnic last year? It’s a recipe Macy shared from a quaint Ozark restaurant.”

Labor Day. So they’d been together for a while. Macy forced a smile. “I loved that place. It had the best barbecue I think I’ve ever tasted.”

“It was back in the trees along a creek, wasn’t it? A feisty black gal who’d once been a New York City chef ran it.”

Macy laughed. “You remember all that?”

“I’m a faithful reader.” Paris leaned in as if confiding in an old acquaintance. “Probably half the town is. Even more, I’m sure, once it was announced you were coming.”

“Ladies.” Jake tapped the face of his watch. “It’s nearing time for the worship service to start and I still have a handful of these.”

He lifted a stack of church bulletins.

Still smiling, Paris patted his arm. “Then why don’t you run on ahead and take care of business. We’ll join you later.”

From the mildly surprised look on his face, he wasn’t too keen on leaving them together. But with an indulgent nod of her head, Paris gave him a gentle shove and sent him on his way.

“Now you have to tell me,” she continued with a wink, “how things turned out for that Colorado couple last month. I felt there had to be more to the story....”

To Macy’s delight, Paris wasn’t the only one who greeted her with the warmth of a long-lost family member. At the potluck in the fellowship hall following the service—given in her honor, no less—numerous ladies invited her to share a meal, probably hoping one of their old family recipes would be featured in the blog. Some hugged her. One elderly lady—Mae Harding, was it?—kissed her cheek as she might do to her granddaughter.

Sharon Dixon, owner of Dix’s Woodland Warehouse, confirmed Macy’s work schedule at the general store on Main Street. As was her custom when visiting small communities, she often served in an unpaid capacity at local businesses, finding it gave her a better opportunity to get to know those who populated the town.

Others crowded in to introduce themselves and their families. Some handed her business cards—numerous campgrounds, cabin resorts and RV parks. An outdoorsy crowd, it seemed.

Macy smiled, listened and asked questions, mentally tabulating how she’d portray the flavor of the town in her blog. But her greatest “find” in the lunchtime crowd was when three sets of newlyweds eagerly shared their stories of recent Christmastime nuptials. Her Hometowns With Heart online friends loved it when she covered true-life romance.

Speaking of which...she’d lost track of Jake and Paris some time ago.

With councilmen Don and Larry and their spouses drifting to a dessert-laden table, she stepped away from the corner where they’d had her pinned and scanned the room. Oh. There she was at least, across the room chatting with the pastor’s wife. Macy knew she herself wasn’t any slouch when it came to mingling in social situations, but nevertheless envy stabbed as she watched Paris’s poised interaction. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d be a good match for Jake in his role as a public servant. Did his dreams still extend beyond his current council seat?

“Macy?”

The familiar masculine voice and light touch to her upper arm startled her. She turned, heart skittering expectantly.

“I’m sorry to tear you away from your fans,” Jake said, keeping his voice low, “but there’s someone I think you should meet.”

Jake helping her? After yesterday, she was surprised he was speaking to her at all.

“Or actually two someones,” he added, “you might want to feature in your blog.”

Detecting an unmistakable glimmer of amusement in his eyes, she folded her arms and gave him a suspicious glare.

His lips twitched, but he managed to suppress the smile. “Come and see.”

She glanced around, but since no one appeared to be waiting to speak with her—and Jake’s lady friend seemed otherwise occupied—she nodded, her curiosity piqued.

He led the way outside to the back of the property. Pine trees overshadowed a scattering of picnic tables and a concrete slab boasted a basketball hoop, neither of which seemed newsworthy. She slowed her pace. Had Jake lured her out here to give her another piece of his mind?

He disappeared around the side of the building as her sandaled feet picked a path across the thick carpet of still-damp, brown pine needles. But just when she’d convinced herself to go back inside, the sound of a horse nickering close by reached her ears.

A horse? At the church?

That’s all it took to send her around the corner in Jake’s wake. Yes, a horse. Two, in fact, saddled and tied to a hitching post. Bridles removed and draped over saddle horns, each horse had been secured with a lead rope fastened to its halter. One of them leaned his head into Jake, eager to have a sweet spot behind his ear scratched.

“People ride horses to church here?” Talk about the Wild West. She approached slowly, not wanting to spook the animals. They were beautiful, with intelligent, gentle brown eyes.

“The pastor’s brother, Trey Kenton, and Trey’s wife, Kara, do when the weather’s suitable. Meet Beamer and Taco.”

Kara and Trey. That would be the woman with the strawberry-blond ponytail and the soft-spoken cowboy with a slight limp. They were one of the December wedding couples. What an ideal addition to tomorrow’s blog this would make. A true taste of high country Arizona that would appeal to her readers. Perfect.

“I’ll get them from inside, along with my camera.” She spun away.

“Macy. Wait.”

At the sharp command, she halted and hesitantly turned toward him. “I want to see if they’ll come out and pose for me.”

“I’m sure they’d be happy to. But they aren’t going anywhere just yet. I saw Trey cutting himself a whopping big piece of cherry pie as we were leaving.” He cracked a smile. “So, pardon the expression, but hold your horses.”

Macy’s throat constricted. Despite the pun, she read something else in his now unsmiling blue eyes. Something she wasn’t in any mood to deal with right now.

“Look, Jake—”