The Parson's Waiting

about his own motivations.
He was clearly a man who’d made certain decisions—for better or worse—and intended to stick by them. The why of it didn’t seem to matter much to him. From Anna Louise’s perspective, that was incredibly sad. And if there was one thing she despised, it was the tragic waste of a life for no reason at all.
Going against the grain to become a preacher had taught her two things: patience and the will to fight the odds. If she put her mind to it, surely she could show Richard Walton that living didn’t have to necessitate dodging bullets. Maybe she could even prove to him that not everyone in the world was dedicated to doing harm. And from what she’d been able to discern, that lesson would have to start in Kiley, not in some far-off place where the politics were Byzantine and strife was the only certainty.
First, though, she had to win him over. Right now he trusted her about as much as a path through a minefield. Well, if there was one thing she had going for her, it was her people skills. She hadn’t gotten to be a pastor without knowing how to get along with just about everybody, even those who mocked her or flat-out detested her. She’d even managed to have a civil conversation with Orville Patterson on one occasion. Only one, but she had viewed it as a start, which only lent credence to Richard’s assessment of her as nothing more than a cockeyed optimist.
She caught him glancing over at her as they pulled into the parking lot in front of one of those hardware superstores. It was right next door to a giant Wal-Mart.
“There’s no need to come with me, if you have shopping you’d rather be doing,” he offered.
“Then which one of us will explain to Maisey that we don’t have any wallpaper?”
“I can choose.”
She glanced critically at his blue plaid shirt and olive green khaki pants. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay, fine. Suit yourself. But I don’t want to spend the whole damned afternoon in here. If you’re planning to get all fussy over choosing paper, then we’ll just have to take home samples.”
Anna Louise rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for patience. “I’ll lay you odds that I can select a wallpaper faster than you can settle on paint for the barn.”
His gaze narrowed. “Are you supposed to gamble?”
“Worried about my soul?”
“Just checking.”
“It’s not gambling if it’s a sure thing.” Her gaze clashed with his, daring him to back down. “Is it a bet or not?”
“What are the stakes?”
“The winner gets to pick the movie. The loser has to pay.”
He nodded. “You’re on.”
Inside the door of the superstore, they separated like two people charging out of a starting gate. What Anna Louise had failed to mention was that Maisey had shown her at least half a dozen home decorating magazines with pictures of exactly the kind of wallpaper she wanted to redo the house in, if she ever had the time. Those very same pictures were currently tucked in her purse.
Not that she needed them. As Maisey had said earlier, Anna Louise knew exactly what Maisey liked, because their tastes were incredibly similar—old-fashioned, bright and cheerful. The only exception had been the subdued stripe in beige, navy blue and burgundy that Maisey had picked out for Richard’s room. Anna Louise was tempted to pick out something a little wilder, just for the pure perversity of it.
She zeroed in on the wallpaper section and began making choices, loading up her cart with the appropriate number of rolls for each room based on the careful measurements Maisey had given her.
A half hour later she was finished. She wheeled the cart over to the paint section, grinning as she spotted Richard engrossed in conversation with a salesclerk. There wasn’t so much as a brush or roller in his shopping cart. The young clerk looked as if he were at the end of his rope.
Richard regarded her with an expression that was entirely too smug, given her victory. “Couldn’t make up your mind after all, I see,” he said, gesturing at the assortment of paper.
“Oh, I made up my mind, all right. I’m through.”
“You have six different papers there.”
“Exactly. The floral is for the parlor. The soft blue stripe is for the dining room. The yellow and white is for the kitchen. This other stripe is for your room. The old-fashioned pink is for Maisey’s and this last one is for the bathroom. I figured we might as well get everything at once.” She smiled cheerfully. “Where’s the paint?”
He seemed to take her victory in stride. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he hadn’t settled on a thing.
“We were just discussing that,” he explained. “John here is recommending the white flat outdoor paint that’s on sale. I think it makes more sense to go with the more expensive one that has a longer warranty.”
Anna Louise bit back a laugh. “You haven’t even chosen the brand yet?”
He scowled at her. “It’s an important decision.”
“Of course it is,” she soothed. “We used the more expensive brand on the church last year. It does seem to be withstanding the weather exceptionally well.”
Richard nodded. “Then that’s it. We’ll take that one.”
“How much?” the clerk asked, turning a grateful look on Anna Louise.
Richard’s gaze flew to the gallon cans. “How much?” he repeated doubtfully. “A couple of gallons, I guess.”
“More like five or six, minimum,” Anna Louise corrected casually. “We used something like ten to do the church and parsonage. The barn’s smaller, but the wood is badly weathered. It’ll probably absorb most of the first coat. You’ll need two coats.”
“Who’s doing this job, you or me?” he grumbled.
“You, of course,” she said at once. “I was just trying to be helpful. I doubt you’ve had many opportunities to paint the past few years. I did the parsonage and helped with the church. I enjoy it. It relaxes me.”
“Then I’ll expect to see you