The Parson's Waiting

once, and laughter danced in her eyes. “You’re on.”
Richard had expected to win easily, but she matched him stroke for stroke. When they were within a few feet of the finishing mark and he was in danger of being beaten or at least tied, he deliberately swam into her path. The slight brush had her sputtering with indignation as their legs tangled and they both went under.
“You rotten cheat,” she said to him when she could catch her breath.
“It was an accident,” he swore.
“Right.”
“I saw that, Richard Walton,” Maisey called from the shore. “You deliberately bumped into Anna Louise to keep her from beating you.”
“Did not,” he said, but he couldn’t help laughing at the sight of both women standing up to him with such fierce determination over a silly race. He turned back to Anna Louise. “I’ll race you to the blanket. Loser fixes a plate for the winner.”
“A fair race?” she countered.
“Cross my heart,” he said, making the gesture.
While he was trying to reassure her, the sweet pastor of Kiley’s oldest church splashed a handful of water into his eyes and took off for the bank of the creek. He was still blinking when he looked around and found her standing triumphantly in the middle of the blanket.
“Don’t forget to put mustard on my sandwiches,” she called out cheerfully.
He climbed out of the creek and tried to keep a menacing glare in his eyes as he approached her. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t cram them down your throat,” he warned.
She laughed at him. “You’re all talk, Richard Walton.”
“I must say I have to agree with her,” Maisey said, clearly egging Anna Louise on.
He scowled at his grandmother. “Et tu, Brut;aae?”
Clearly unintimidated by the accusation, Maisey sat back and smoothed her skirt over her knees. “I believe I’m ready for dinner now,” she informed him primly.
“Me, too,” Anna Louise chimed in.
“Then, by all means, let me serve you.” He dished up the potato salad, added the ham and biscuits and fresh tomato slices, then passed the first plate over to Maisey. When he gave Anna Louise hers, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I will get even with you, Pastor Perkins.”
Her brown eyes widened at the teasing threat in his voice. She swallowed hard, but her gaze remained unblinking. “I guess that means I’ll have to stay on my toes, then, doesn’t it?”
He grinned. “You bet.”
The conversation shifted then to easy, uncontroversial topics. Maisey drifted to sleep after a while, leaving Richard and Anna Louise talking softly about childhood memories.
“I recall the time I wrote an essay about wanting to be a preacher,” she divulged. “I must have been about ten. We’d been asked to describe what we wanted to be when we grew up. I was so proud of that essay. My parents had read it and thought it was wonderful.”
“Did you get an A?”
He could see the shake of her head in the gathering twilight. “I failed.”
He regarded her with a sense of shock. “Why?”
“The teacher tore it up. She said I had no business writing such blasphemous things. The way she said it, I felt as if I’d done something terrible, as if I’d written that I wanted to be a murderer or something.”
“What did your parents do?”
“When I told them, they explained to me that if I was serious about becoming a pastor, then I had to learn to deal with people like that teacher. I think that was the day I grew up. I know it was the day I resolved never to let what other people think rule my decisions.”
“And you never wavered from your dream?”
“Never once,” she said quietly. “Never once.”
Richard recalled how fervently he had believed in his own dream of traveling the world, reporting on things that needed changing, making a difference.
Proving himself, he realized suddenly, just as Anna Louise meant to do. In that moment of self-discovery, he saw that there was at least one thing he and Anna Louise had in common. They both fought tooth and nail for what they believed in, against what some would see as insurmountable odds.
Silence fell around them then, but it was the compatible silence born of budding friendship and understanding. For just about the first time since he’d met Anna Louise, he felt totally comfortable. As always, he was sharply aware of her as a woman, but he was even more aware of her as a person of strength and character, a person deserving of admiration.
The pleasant mood was disrupted only minutes later by the splatter of the first fat drops of rain.
“You get Maisey up to the house,” Anna Louise said, her face turned up to the rain as if she were a flower in need of healing moisture. “I’ll bring the picnic things.”
Richard nodded. He woke Maisey, helped her up, and with an arm around her waist, led her back to the house. He was on his way back to the creek when he saw Anna Louise coming. She wasn’t rushing. If anything, she looked as if she was enjoying every drop of the cleansing shower. Richard took the picnic basket from her.
“Don’t you want to come in and dry off?” he said when she immediately turned toward her car.
“No. I’d just get wet all over again when I do leave. I believe I’ll be going on home.”
For the first time in as far back as he could remember, Richard suddenly felt tongue-tied. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight.”
She turned slowly back at that. Her gaze rose and clashed with his. “Me, too,” she said softly. “I feel more peaceful now.”
As she walked away, Richard was left to wonder exactly what she had meant. Peaceful? Not him. He felt as if he’d been poleaxed from a direction in which he’d least expected it.

CHAPTER SEVEN
It was the sixth straight day of rain. It had started the night of Anna Louise’s picnic with Maisey and Richard and hadn’t let up for a minute since.