Lakeside Sweetheart

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Chapter One (#ulink_f16760fc-ee38-551f-ae8e-e1d610bc04b9)

He always noticed new faces at church.

As minister of the Millbrook Lake Church, Rory Sanderson had a bird’s-eye view of the entire congregation, including everyone from Mrs. Fanny Fitzpatrick in her fake-fruit-covered straw hat to Alec Caldwell’s aunt Hattie in her pearls and baby-blue pillbox.

But one person stood out today more than all the others.

Maybe because her discomfort could have shattered the rows of stained glass windows lining each side of the tiny chapel. The doubtful expression made her look a little lost, but her light brown hair shimmered with a luster that reminded him of sea oats at sunrise. He couldn’t tell much about her eyes. She wore dark shades.

But he felt pretty sure those hidden eyes were staring straight at him. She must be one of those. Someone had obviously invited her to the service today. And she so did not want to be here.

Rory took that as a challenge. He accepted the woman’s distrust with a smile and a prayer. That was his job, after all. To turn that frown upside down. To bring the lost home. To make the backsliders and unbelievers faithful. Especially on such a beautiful spring day. A day full of rebirth and renewal. The best kind of day.

Easter Sunday.

The whole flock, maybe the whole town, had turned out in their Easter finery. And they all had smiles on their faces.

Except for that one, of course. The one in the pretty yellow dress that reminded him of picnics and wildflowers, wearing those dark Wayfarers and that shell-shocked expression. And Rory had to wonder. What had made this woman so reluctant to be here today?

* * *

“You could try smiling,” Marla Caldwell said into Vanessa Donovan’s ear. “It won’t break your face.”

“I told you I don’t do church,” Vanessa replied, uneasiness making her fidget. Tugging her turquoise floral wrap over her bare arms, she glanced around. “I only came because you invited me. And because I want some of that good food your mother and Aunt Hattie bribed us with—I mean—promised to us—for Sunday dinner.”

“They are not above bribery,” Marla said with a grin, her red-gold ponytail bouncing. “But church will do you good, you’ll see. It sure can’t hurt you.”

Marla could afford to tease. She was still a newlywed. Happy and settled and very much in love with a former marine who lived in a big Victorian house not far from Vanessa’s smaller Craftsman-style cottage. After a Christmas wedding, Marla and her cute preschooler, Gabby, now lived in that rambling house with handsome Alec Caldwell and his adorable aunt Hattie and two dogs. One big, happy family.

Something Vanessa would never have. But she didn’t care about all of that anyway, she reminded herself.

Glad for her friend, Vanessa remembered she didn’t believe in that sort of thing. She was a realist who’d decided long ago that marriage and family weren’t for her. Marla teased her about being too pessimistic and cynical, but Vanessa was practical and resolved. Resolved to a life that didn’t include a long-term relationship or attending church or bouncing a baby on her lap.

“I’m not quite ready to dive right in,” Vanessa said, her eyes on the cute guy up front greeting everyone as if he owned the place. “What’s the story with Surfer Dude?”

Marla giggled. “You mean Preacher? His name is Rory Sanderson. He does look like a surfer with that dark-blond hair, and he’s pretty good at surfing and a lot of other things, now that I think about it. But his real passion is right here inside this church. He’s our minister and he’s good at his job. Amazing, considering he’s all alone. No wife or children. Every matron in this congregation has tried to fix him up, but I think he’s holding out for someone special.”

Vanessa shook her head, shocked that someone so young and, well, hip, could be a preacher. “Right. Or he’s so caught up in himself that he doesn’t really see the audience.”

“Not an audience. A congregation,” Marla replied. “And you’re wrong about Rory. He doesn’t have an ego.” She waved to a couple who sat down behind them and then pointed them out to Vanessa. “That’s Alec’s best friend, Blain Kent—he’s also a former marine and is now a detective with the Millbrook Police—and his fiancée, Rikki Alvanetti. She’s an interior designer. They’re getting married in a few weeks.”

Vanessa nodded and smiled at the couple. They’d make pretty babies since they both had dark hair and expressive eyes—hers almost black and his deep blue—and looked exotic and buff. And happy.

Everyone in this place seemed happy.

Chiding herself for being in such a snarky mood, she turned back to the front again. That minister seemed to be watching her. This hour couldn’t get over with fast enough.

Then because she did feel guilty even thinking that, Vanessa lifted her eyes to one of the beautiful stained glass windows and asked God to give her a better perspective.

When she lowered her gaze, the cute preacher with the boyish grin and the dark-blond wind-tossed hair looked right at her and smiled. And then he did something even more daring. He came down from the front of the church and headed straight to the pew where Vanessa sat.

“Is he going to—”

“Yes, he is,” Marla said with a grin. When he stopped near them, she said, “Preacher Rory, this is my friend Vanessa Donovan. She moved back to town a couple of weeks ago.”

“Not moved back,” Vanessa corrected. “I came back to take care of some things.”

The preacher took Vanessa’s hand, shaking it lightly before he stood back and smiled, his baby blue eyes centered on Vanessa as if she were the only person in this place. “It’s nice to meet you, Vanessa. Welcome to Millbrook Lake Church.”

“Uh...thanks,” Vanessa said, a white heat of embarrassment moving up her spine. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

He spoke to a few more people and then turned back to Vanessa. “Happy Easter.”

She watched as he headed toward the back and greeted almost everyone else who entered the open double doors. “He’s so friendly,” she whispered to Marla. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

Marla glanced back and then turned to Vanessa. “You know, you need to let go of that cynical attitude. Preacher is solid. He’s a good man. He was a chaplain in the army.”

“What?” Vanessa looked over her shoulder. “That sunny, happy, goofy man served in the military?”

“He sure did,” Marla replied. “And...he wasn’t always so sunny and happy and goofy.”

Faith is the substance of things hoped for...

Vanessa thought about that verse of scripture on the short ride back to Alec and Marla’s house. Why did that particular verse seem to move through her like the blue waters of the big oval lake centered in the middle of town?

Maybe it wasn’t the verse so much as the preacher who’d read it. Rory Sanderson didn’t preach. He talked. In a quiet, friendly tone that made you think he really was talking to you and only you. Which irritated Vanessa. She didn’t want to like the man, but some of what he’d said made sense.

She had listened, too. He’d pointed out how Jesus liked to hang out with the misfits and the outsiders. How a lot of those kinds of people were there during His Crucifixion.

But she had to wonder if the misfits and losers had been allowed in the church today. Everyone at the service had seemed so fresh faced and full of joy. Were they all that happy, or had they been hiding their pain behind a pretty facade?

Vanessa didn’t know and it really didn’t matter. She probably wouldn’t go back to Millbrook Lake Church. She hadn’t been to church in a long, long time. And she didn’t plan on staying in Millbrook for too long either.

Clean out the house. Sell the house. Pocket the cash. Get on with her life. Whatever that life might be. Right now, she had a solid team looking out for her interests, and she had a boutique and online business waiting for her back in New Orleans. So she took a deep breath and decided she’d try to be grateful for being invited to share a nice meal with Marla’s family. She could deal with other people’s families, but she did not need one of her own.

Pulling her small car up to the side drive next to Caldwell House, Vanessa got out and took in the scents of jasmine and wisteria, thankful that she didn’t have to spend this gorgeous day alone.

But when she looked up and saw a man strolling up the sidewalk, she silently groaned.

The preacher headed toward her. And she had the sinking feeling he would be at Sunday dinner, too.

* * *