Lakeside Sweetheart

Rory waved to the woman who emerged from the cute little blue vintage roadster. Vanessa Donovan, still wearing those shades. She’d taken them off during the service, but he had yet to see her eyes up close. He’d been too busy preaching it to a full house. Now he might be able to have some one-on-one time with the interesting woman who stood staring at him as if she wanted to get back in the car and haul herself far away from here.

“How are you?” he asked, determined to make her take off those ridiculously big shades. He was pretty sure they were missing from the 1960s, too. And maybe even the dress.

But she made all of these old-fashioned things fresh and new.

“I’m good.” She held a straw purse embellished with a big white daisy that Mrs. Fitzpatrick would surely love and met him at the intricate gate to the back garden. “I...I enjoyed your sermon.”

Polite but cool. “Thank you. I’m glad you made it to the service today. How do you know Marla?”

She looked relieved to move away from the topic of church. “We were friends in high school briefly and then we ran into each other in Tallahassee before I moved to New Orleans. I’m so glad she’s found someone. She deserves to be happy.” Then she winced. “Oh, wow. That sounded so cliché.”

Rory laughed and walked with her up the steps onto the back porch. Aunt Hattie and Marla had the porch decorated with white lace tablecloths and all kinds of fresh flowers. “But it’s true. Marla and Alec are meant for each other. They had their wedding reception right here in the garden, in December.”

“So I heard. Sounds beautiful.”

“And romantic,” he said with a grin. “One of the many perks of my job. I presided over their vows. Chilly weather but warm atmosphere.”

She finally took off her shades and gave him a doubting stare with big hazel eyes that went from brown to green in a beautiful flash. But before Rory could counter her skeptical expression with something positive, the back door opened and little Gabby came running out, followed by two dogs.

“Hello, Uncle Rory,” Gabby said, squealing in delight as both animals ran circles around Rory and Vanessa. “Angus, stop. Roxie, quit being so silly.”

Rory squatted down and smiled at Gabby, careful not to get too close. The four-year-old had the little poodle Roxie for a reason, and Roxie sometimes wore a service vest for a reason. The tiny dog was trained to keep Gabby calm whenever she felt threatened or afraid. Which happened less and less these days, thankfully. The little girl had gone through a lot of trauma after being involved in a robbery that took her daddy’s life.

“Hello, Gabby,” he said. “This is my new friend, Vanessa. Don’t you love her pretty dress?”

Gabby grabbed Roxie and stood back to stare up at Vanessa with big brown eyes. Bobbing her head in agreement with Rory’s question, she asked, “Are you eating dinner with us?”

“I am,” Vanessa said, clearly uncomfortable with the whole Sunday-dinner thing. Or maybe the child made her uncomfortable. “Is that okay?”

Gabby showed a snaggletoothed grin. “Yes, ma’am. Are you hungry? We have ham and mashed potatoes and asp-per-gus. I don’t like that, though.”

“I don’t either,” Rory said, grinning. “But I love me some mashed potatoes.”

“And I like ham and asparagus,” Vanessa said. “I hear your mother made cupcakes and pies, too.”

Gabby did a little back and forth sway, her print dress swishing. “Uh-huh. She made Easter cupcakes with bunnies and flowers and grass. I’m gonna eat two.”

“And I’ll eat three at least,” Rory said, glad that Vanessa was warming up to the little girl. Gabby would sense it if Vanessa wasn’t comfortable.

“Hello there.” Aunt Hattie came strolling out, her arms wide open and her cheeky smile warm. “Welcome, welcome. I’m so glad you’re both here and that you found each other out there.”

“We did,” Rory said, shooting Vanessa an encouraging glance. “Ran into each other by the gate.”

“Did that hurt?” Gabby asked, her eyes wide again.

Aunt Hattie hooted with laughter. “Out of the mouths of babes.”

“I don’t know yet,” Rory said, his gaze still on Vanessa. “It wasn’t too painful to me. How about you, Vanessa?”

She smiled and shook her head. “We’re fine, Gabby.”

Then she walked with Aunt Hattie into the house, leaving Rory to wonder if he’d ever be fine again.

Of all the people he’d seen in church this morning, why did this woman have to be the one who’d come to dinner at the Caldwells’? And why did she have to be the one who’d left him wondering and wanting to help her when he didn’t even know what she needed?

Why not?

God always put people in certain places for a reason. Vanessa was here for a reason. Rory should know better than anyone that humans didn’t make their own paths.

Sometimes God put a woman in a bright yellow dress right smack-dab in the middle of the road so she could be found.

And sometimes He stopped a hopeful preacher cold in his tracks just to keep him on his toes. For a brief moment guilt gnawed at his conscience, but Rory took in the scent of flowers all around him and nodded. No matter what happened, this spring was glorious.

Chapter Two (#ulink_1ddfe3aa-3ef6-5a69-8abd-752d58b7b587)

Vanessa strolled around the big rambling backyard at Caldwell House, her mind on everything she had to get done during the next few weeks.

“Tea?”

Rory handed her a refill while they watched Gabby, with Roxie right on her heels, searching for Easter eggs in the many dish gardens and potted palms displayed all around the colorful yard.

“Thank you.” Vanessa took the goblet of dark tea flavored with lemon. Not knowing what else to say, she smiled. “What a meal.”

She’d enjoyed listening to the easy banter, the tiny bits of good-natured gossip and the news of the week. Millbrook Lake was growing now that the local economy had finally improved. She knew Alec had a lot to do with that since he’d returned home. She hadn’t kept up much with Millbrook Lake. Mainly because she’d never planned to return here.

“I’ll say.” Rory rubbed his flat stomach. “I shouldn’t have had pie and cupcakes, but the cooking around here is so good I always double up when I get invited for Sunday dinner.”

She had to laugh. Watching him eat had been an event in itself. “Do you get invited to lunch and dinner a lot?”

“Sure. And breakfast, too. A perk of the job. People love to feed the preacher. Especially since this preacher lives alone.”

She glanced over at him and saw a darkness moving through his eyes like a cloud over a clear sky. She wanted to ask him about that, but he looked straight ahead and watched Gabby with a quiet intensity that belied his cheerful nature.

“The meal was amazing,” she said, suddenly unsure around him. Suddenly remembering that she had not wanted to be around him. And yet, here she stood. But she also thought about Marla’s words to her earlier about him not always being so sunny, happy and goofy.

She could handle cheerful and friendly. Those were easy emotions. But imagining Rory Sanderson sad made her concerned and curious. Though wary around men of the cloth, she didn’t want to think of this man as anything other than what he seemed. His carefree nature didn’t appear at all threatening.

But then, she shouldn’t be thinking of him anyway. He was the preacher. A man of God. Certainly not her type. Not that she was looking. She’d sworn off any long-term relationships, and she certainly wasn’t ready for anything else. She thought of the tiny church up the road and willed herself to push away the memories of another church that had been located on the outskirts of town. Gone now. Torn down for new commercial real estate.

“I don’t normally eat so much,” she continued in the small-talk vein. “But Aunt Hattie is famous for her meals, and Marla is amazing with sugar and flour and butter.”

“A dynamic duo,” he said, the smile bright on his face again. “I need a long Sunday-afternoon nap.”

She could picture him kicked back in a recliner, snoring softly. That did make her smile.

“I’d think you don’t get to rest much,” she blurted to get rid of that warm, fuzzy feeling. “I mean, being a minister.”

“I get eight hours of sleep most nights, but things happen. A death, a birth, a trip to the ER, a hospital visit now and then.” He gave her a quick but concise glance. “Sometimes people need to talk, even in the middle of the night.”