The Parson's Waiting

tackle first. He stood when nudged, sat down with everyone else, all the while paying little or no attention to anything going on.
Then he heard her voice, low and mellow and totally captivating. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it was the woman from the orchard. And she seemed to be starting the sermon.
Richard’s gaze shot up and, sure enough, there she was, standing square behind the lectern, looking as innocent as a newborn babe, in a gray dress with a prim little lace collar. That dress looked as if it had come from Maisey’s closet about forty years ago. Sedate was the kindest word he could think of to describe it. She still looked lovely...and official. His mouth fell open.
Maisey tucked her arm through his and leaned close. “We’ve been needing someone with a spark of energy for years now. The church hasn’t been the same since she came. Isn’t she something?”
“What on earth is she doing up there?” he asked, still not willing to acknowledge the logical answer. He had to hear it spelled out in plain English, and even then he knew he wasn’t going to like it.
“Why, she’s the preacher, of course.”
Even though he’d expected it, the announcement left him speechless. He waited for that bolt of lightning from the heavens to strike him down for the lascivious thoughts he’d had about her. When he could finally find his tongue, he said in a stunned tone, “But she’s a woman.”
“Well, of course she is,” his grandmother said, as if that were no more surprising than the choir leading off with “Rock of Ages.”
Richard suddenly had the disturbing sensation that Kiley, Virginia, had skipped the twentieth century and leaped straight into the twenty-first. He was shaken by the discovery that his perceptions of his old hometown were at odds with reality.
More importantly, he was downright shocked to discover that he had been attracted—even for one devastating heartbeat—to a woman who was absolutely off limits to a man with his love ‘em and leave ‘em philosophy, the only kind of philosophy a man with his kind of wandering lifestyle could have.
He took one long, lingering look at the woman preaching so sincerely about tolerance for sinners and vowed with some regret that that look would be his last.
A preacher, for heaven’s sake! Obviously his well-honed antenna for trouble had been seriously on the blink in that orchard. Well, it was fully operational now and nothing—nothing—would get him within a hundred yards of this particular woman again.

CHAPTER TWO
“So, Richard, what did you think of our new pastor?” Maisey asked when the service was over.
She didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well, given Richard’s inability to form a coherent thought at the moment.
“Isn’t she something?” Maisey enthused, as if she were doing public relations for a political candidate...or a prospective bride. “Anna Louise does know how to give a rousing sermon. Of course, there are some in town who don’t think a woman has any business leading a congregation, but she’ll win them over eventually.”
“That explains why half the pews were empty,” Richard said, mostly to himself. He’d thought maybe it was because too many of the men were attracted to the preacher and had started worrying about those same lightning bolts that weighed on his mind. “Do they give her a hard time?”
“Some do, but Anna Louise pays ‘em no mind. The girl has more gumption than a raccoon after picnic leavings. She’s known what she wanted since she was a little bitty thing. Grew up with a real sense of purpose, a calling, you might say.” She slanted a sly look at him. “A woman like that could make a man’s life mighty interesting, don’t you think?”
Richard ignored the broad hint, but his opinion of Miss Anna Louise Perkins shifted dangerously toward approval again. Anyone who stood up to the small-minded folks of Kiley had his full support. Her career might make him jittery on several counts, but none had a thing to do with any judgments about women as preachers. As a matter of fact, he considered himself to be very liberated. He’d always believed women had a right to pursue any job their brains and strength enabled them to hold. He’d met some tough, courageous females in his travels, women he admired more than he could say. Some carried guns. Some carried notebooks or TV cameras. Some wore stethoscopes. All had been singlemindedly dedicated to what they were doing.
To his deep regret, however, he had to concede that his personal plans for Anna Louise, formed in that orchard a few days ago, had suffered a serious setback. In fact, he could think of two very solid reasons for avoiding her like the water in some Third World country.
First, she was bound to be the kind of woman who’d have certain expectations of a man. In her position as a preacher, already precarious because of her gender, she couldn’t afford to go around indulging in casual flings with a man who was just passing through town.
Second, the last thing he needed in his life was some do-gooder who believed that people were decent and kind. He could cite any number of occasions in the past nine years when he’d seen proof of just the opposite. In fact, he had his own bylined newspaper clippings and the accompanying horrifying photographs to back it up. For purely intellectual purposes, maybe someday he’d ask Anna Louise how she explained a God who allowed those terrible things to happen. Given that quiet, serene aura she had about her, maybe that was something Anna Louise had never given any thought to, but Richard had. He hadn’t liked the answers he’d come up with.
It seemed, however, that despite his resolve not even to think about the town’s newest preacher, his grandmother had other ideas. All the way back up the hill, Maisey continued to sing Anna Louise’s praises. In fact, Richard thought he knew more