Baby Dreams And Wedding Schemes

There was no answer.

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, which seemed to account for the large crowd at church. That and the fact that it was the first Sunday for the new minister. Sasha glanced around the small sanctuary and noticed the wealth of females in attendance.

A small grin twitched at the side of her lips. Let’s see you wiggle out of this one, Reverend Windsor, she snickered as she ticked off the possible contenders.

Mrs. Garner was old enough to be his mother, but she sat there, front and center, decked out in her Sunday-go-to-meeting hat and a brand-new dress. Sasha made a mental note to check whether the woman had shed her customary brown support hose for the occasion. Cody sat by the woman’s side, eagerly gazing ’round the small church.

Flora Brown, the church secretary, was also an older single woman. Today her mousey dry hair was ruffled into a new style that took years off her plain face. And she was not wearing black!

Maudie Roach, as I live and breathe. Sasha barely stifled the tickle of laughter that begged release as the town’s most eligible female sauntered suggestively down the aisle and placed herself in the center seat, second row. Her shapely figure was displayed to perfection in the fitted white silk suit she wore. A thigh-high slit in the skirt showed off her slim legs and dainty toes in sandals with four-inch heels.

For one green moment Sasha allowed jealousy to invade her. Just once she’d like to be short enough to be able to wear heels that endowed her with a regal grace and elegance instead of these plain flatties that minimized her five-foot-eleven-something stature.

And next to the expensive cut of Maudie’s outfit, Sasha’s own floral sundress looked home-made. Which it was, she mocked herself gently. She’d given up buying haute couture outfits when she’d moved to Allen’s Springs to become independent. A decision which I do not regret, she assured herself sternly.

“Morning, Vera.”

Looking frazzled and hot, Mrs. Bratley slipped onto the empty seat beside her, fingers clenched around the wriggling arm of her five-year-old son Bobby.

Sasha smiled sympathetically.

“Having a tough day?” she murmured as she watched the town brat snitch a soda cracker from the baby behind them.

“Just the usual.” Vera sighed. “Bobby didn’t want to come to church today. Hector’s gone fishing, you see.”

Sasha nodded. She knew exactly how Bobby felt. There had been times in her life when she would have far preferred to worship God in the cool stillness of the river rather than the stuffy confines of First Avenue Church.

While his mother leafed through the bulletin, Sasha slipped the child a mint, which he promptly chewed while holding his hand out for a second.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “That’s all I have.”

He went for her handbag, but Sasha slipped it to the other side just as the Reverend Jacob Windsor moved behind the pulpit.

It wasn’t a long service. The hymns were familiar upbeat ones that encouraged and uplifted the spirit. Maudie favored them with a solo that had the rafters resounding with pure, clear contralto tones that Sasha refused to allow herself to envy.

But the message... Now that was something else.

He started off well, Sasha decided.

“Cody and I would like to thank each of you for your kind welcome to Allen’s Springs. We are looking forward to getting to know all of you much better in the weeks and months ahead.”

And then came the warning.

“Although my wife has passed away, Cody and I are very happy together. We have many fond memories that we share when we’re feeling low. And so, while I appreciate the numerous invitations you’ve so graciously extended, we must have time to find our place together in this community.”

It was well said, she’d give him that. But the intent was still the same.

Back off.

There were more words along the same lines, but Sasha tuned the rest out as she surveyed the crowd for reactions.

Mrs. Garner was studying her gloves as if they were covered with some distasteful substance while Flora sat stiffly facing the front. Sasha couldn’t detect even the twitch of muscles in the harsh profile view. Two teenage girls were giggling and whispering to each other as they cast wide-eyed soulful eyes at Jacob.

But it was Maudie who made her teeth clench.

Gorgeous, self-aware Maudie, who leaned back in her seat comfortably. A predatory look that Sasha had seen numerous times curved the full red lips. In a movement as old as time, Maudie flicked back the silver-gilt curls with a careless twitch of her neck, her eyes studying the man in front of them all.

She’s gonna go for him, Sasha’s subconscious whispered. She’s loaded for bear.

The words rattled around and around her brain as the pastor pronounced the benediction. They ate away at her as she bid her friends and neighbors good morning. They nagged her conscience as she shook Reverend Windsor’s hand and facetiously thanked him for the “enlightening” sermon.

They hissed at her as she watched Dwain amble over to Maudie, trying desperately to get the other woman’s attention.

Warn him. Tell Jake what to expect.

“Lovely job of the bulletin, Flora. I really like those cartoons on the back.”

Tell him to be careful. If she gets her hooks in, he’ll wonder what hit him.

“Cody! It’s nice to see you again. I do like that shirt.”

Do you want Maudie Roach to become that child’s mother?

“Stop it,” she snapped, causing old Mr. Abernathy to pull his hand away abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, red-faced. “I was thinking of something else.” She watched him walk away with a frown.

“Home, I need to go home. Get out of this sun.” Sasha hoped no one would notice she was talking to herself.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Maudie stood smiling artlessly down at her, Pastor Jacob directly behind holding the handle of her white parasol with two fingers. “You bigger women always seem to have trouble with the heat.”

“Bigger women” indeed!

It was a direct slam that hit home painfully since Sasha was only too conscious of her own overly large frame when measured against the other woman’s petite size. Sasha held her hands at her side, curved her nails down and forced her lips to smile.

“Oh, you don’t worry about me, Maudie. I’m not the one who needs a parasol. Actually, I’m quite strong. I don’t need a man to protect me from the elements.”

The woman looked like a cat, Sasha decided. A very contented cat as she curled her arm into the minister’s muscled black-robed arm.

“Oh, I just love having a big strong man around. It’s so refreshing to be taken care of.”

You and Scarlett O’Hara, Sasha thought, turning away. It was disgusting. She strode down the road, heading for home like a scared rabbit. Enough was enough!

She stripped the dress off in her bedroom and slid on a cool cotton romper that allowed the air to caress her heated skin.

“Bigger woman, indeed,” she muttered, assembling a sandwich for herself from the assortment of cold cuts and the garlicy dill pickles she loved. She was proud of her height and her well-endowed figure. She was!

Sasha refused to admit that she had donned the outfit in the hopes that a certain man and his son would stop by. She tried to remember all the confident, self-reliant messages she had learned while disengaging herself from a dependent relationship with Dwain.