The Parson's Waiting

about the woman after that five-minute drive than he had about most of the women he’d dated since leaving Kiley. It kept him uncomfortably aware of her and of the instantaneous, heart-pounding attraction he’d felt when they met.
According to Maisey, Anna Louise was twenty-nine. She’d been born in Tennessee. She had three older sisters and uncompromising, dedicated parents who’d been at the forefront of the fight for civil rights in the South. She’d been a miracle baby, born prematurely at barely three pounds. That early battle to live had turned her into a scrapper and taught her from her first days that miracles were possible.
“Not a day went by that her parents didn’t thank God for the blessing of her survival,” Maisey concluded. “I have to admit I think we’re just as blessed that she decided to come here to Kiley. She was sent here just to fill in, but the majority of the congregation voted right off to keep her. To my way of thinking, it was God’s plan that sent her here and we had no right to object. Of course, there were those who disagreed so vehemently that they left. Good riddance, I say.”
“I suppose,” Richard mumbled. Then to his grandmother’s obvious regret, he went off to change his clothes, rather than listen to more high praise of the most unavailable woman in Kiley, Virginia for a man with his particular designs on her.
When he came back into the kitchen, his grandmother was frying chicken and boiling potatoes to mash. Green beans simmered with some bacon for seasoning. A cookie tray of homemade yeast rolls was ready for the oven. Richard sniffed the air appreciatively, then waved a finger under his grandmother’s nose.
“Does your doctor know this is the sort of meal you fix?” he scolded. “I haven’t seen this much cholesterol in one place since you took me to that all-you-can-eat buffet in Charlottesville after my high school graduation.”
She frowned at him. “This is the same Sunday dinner I’ve been eating my whole life,” she informed him.
“Which could explain why you’re having problems with your heart.”
“Fiddle-faddle. My heart’s just plain old. It doesn’t have a thing to do with what I eat for Sunday dinner.”
He glanced at the table and saw that three places had been set with the best china. “Is your new boyfriend joining us?” he teased. “Now that you’ve shared a few kisses with the doc, are you hoping to reel him in with your cooking?”
“Stop that nonsense, Richard Walton,” she said, smacking his hand as he reached for a chunk of apple coated with cinnamon and sugar. “And stay out of those. They’re for the cobbler. It’s Anna Louise’s favorite. Yours, too, as I recall.”
His heart seemed to skid to a stop. “Anna Louise is coming for dinner?”
“She’ll be here as soon as she finishes up at the church.”
Richard saw his good intentions going up in smoke. Proximity with Anna Louise would not do a lot for his resolve.
“I know what you’re up to,” he told Maisey, hoping to ward off any plans she might have of throwing him into daily contact with the preacher for whatever devious purpose she had in mind.
“And what would that be?” she inquired innocently.
He refused even to mention anything having to do with marriage. “It’s too late to try saving my wretched soul,” he said instead.
“Maybe I’m more worried about my own,” his grandmother retorted, but there was an unmistakable and worrisome glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
He made up his mind to flee while he could. “Bye,” he said, heading out the back door with one last look of regret at the meal he’d miss.
“Where are you going? Dinner’s almost ready.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Fiddle-faddle,” she said emphatically, clearly unconvinced. She shot a penetrating look at him. “Running scared?”
“Just running,” he said as he left the house for his own protection.
Unfortunately, his grandmother had never been easily dissuaded from one of her schemes and Anna Louise apparently had the tracking skills of a hound dog. She found him down by Willow Creek. He’d discovered his old fishing pole in the barn, dug up a few worms and was contentedly resting against a tree with his line dangling in the creek. He hadn’t had a nibble in the past hour, but for the moment he was perfectly content to sit back in the shade and wait.
“Catch anything?”
The cheerful inquiry interrupted his pretense at dozing. He’d seen her coming and had hoped Anna Louise would take one look at his sleeping form and leave him in peace. Obviously she was no less easily dissuaded from a mission than Maisey. At the moment, he didn’t view that as an attribute.
“Not yet,” he told her, shoving his hat back to slant a look up at her. She’d changed out of that prim little dress into linen slacks and a cool-looking blouse that bared her slender arms. He absolutely refused to check out how those slacks fit over her trim little behind. “Thought you’d be sitting down to fried chicken by now.”
“Without you? That wouldn’t be polite.”
“I told Maisey I wasn’t hungry.”
Anna Louise looked skeptical. “Gee, it must have slipped her mind.”
“Conveniently,” he said dryly. “One thing about Maisey, she has a very selective memory.”
“I don’t suppose this sudden fascination with fishing had anything to do with my coming to dinner.”
She didn’t seem especially troubled by the possibility. If anything, she looked fascinated. “Why would I let you chase me off?” he asked testily.
“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say panic.”
It was all Richard could do to keep from choking. “Why would I panic?”
“Why, indeed?”
His gaze narrowed. “You’re not hoping to get me to confess my sins, are you?”
Her burst of laughter rippled through the summer air. “While I’m sure that would be interesting, I don’t have any need to drum up business. I’m in the habit of waiting for people to come to me when they want to talk about their transgressions.”
“From what I hear, you’re the last person