Fairytale of Headley Cross (2 page)

“Well, thank you for answering the call anyway. I only stepped out for a moment. It’s always the way.”

Carson reached into the pocket of his long black overcoat. “You’re welcome. I came by to give you the hymn numbers and order of service for Sunday. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. And you didn’t have to hand deliver them. Email would do just as well.”

He smiled. She said that every single week. Truth was he enjoyed the walk between his home and the church. As did his black-and-white border collie, Pilot. “I’ll remember that when it’s raining. Or we’re covered in six feet of snow.”

Trudi smiled back. “What did this wrong number want?”

“Not much. I got berated for something I hadn’t done. But despite her apparent disdain for whomever she thought she was talking to, I hope she’s all right.”

“Did you ring her back?”

Carson shook his head. “No, I didn’t want to make her feel any worse. Well, I’m off. Pilot needs a long walk before the prayer meeting tonight.” He headed outside and untied Pilot. “Come on then, let’s go walk in the park and see how many ducks we can terrorize this afternoon.”

As he walked, his thoughts returned to the phone call. He prayed once again for the woman he’d spoken to so briefly. Whoever she was, she needed help in her current situation. And although he himself was powerless to help, he knew Someone who could.

Pilot ran happily by his heels as he headed to the park. The usual dog walkers were already in the park, including the woman he saw most evenings—the lady who owned the gorgeous sheltie. She was early tonight, but then so was he. He studied her as he walked the same path towards her. Her blonde hair, usually done up in one of those fancy twists, blew every-which-way in the cold wind. She normally looked neat and tidy, but today seemed careworn and upset.

Should he stop and say something? As he took a step in her direction, her phone rang and the moment was gone as she turned off the path with her dog. No matter, he was bound to run into her tomorrow, if not sooner.

Pilot fetched the stick and brought it back, dropping it at his feet.

Carson looked at him as he bent to pick up the stick. “So what would you have done?”

Pilot panted and licked Carson’s hand.

“Really? Lick her to death? I don’t think so. Come on, time to go home.” He grinned as Pilot barked. “Protest all you want. But I have a service to go to, and I want to eat first.”

His grin turned into a chuckle as Pilot’s ears pricked up at the word eat and the dog started pulling him along the path.

****

The church hall was already filling when Carson arrived half an hour early for the prayer meeting.
He was still in awe of the fact he’d been called to serve here at all. He’d done his college placement here, and could hardly believe it when a job came up for a co-pastor of Headley Baptist Church. The church was everything he’d hoped for—evangelical, baptizing believers, and a member of the FIEC. He’d applied, not expecting to get a co-pastorship straight out of seminary school, especially as the advert wanted someone with more experience than he had and with a wife to help out with the ladies and children’s work. He felt honored that they’d chosen him.

Sunday would mark the fifth week since his ordination, and he was still trying to put names to faces. Not an easy task with a congregation of over four hundred each week—three hundred of them members. He’d made a conscious effort to speak to almost everyone on the membership roll with a couple of exceptions. He planned to rectify that as soon as possible. He also wanted to organize a meeting with everyone involved in the different ministries of the church. Especially Maggie Turner. She taught Sunday school, and he hadn’t managed to catch her at all.

He really could have done with a few more weeks spent with the other pastor, Jack Chambers. But Jack had gone overseas on a planned trip with his family and wouldn’t be back until February.

Talk about being thrown in at the deep end.

“Pastor?”

Carson turned. “Hi, Trudi.”

“You wanted to know who Maggie Turner is. She just came in. She’s over there, long blonde wavy hair, knit dress, and knee length boots.” Trudi smiled. “And you look years younger without the beard.”

Carson ran his hand over his newly shaved chin. “Not sure that’s a good thing. I’m younger than most of the congregation wanted.”

“You got an overwhelming majority of the vote. Don’t forget that.”

Carson headed across the hall to the lady Trudi had pointed out. Too late he realized he didn’t know if she were a Miss or a Mrs. And after last time, he wasn’t going to call anyone Ms. Well, whatever her title, she was a stunning woman. Perhaps she was a little on the willowy side, but with curves in all the right places.

She looked familiar. He’d seen her before.
Well, obviously. In church on a Sunday,
he chided himself.

Carson sneaked a look at the woman’s left hand as she draped her coat over the back of a chair. “Miss Turner?”

She turned and looked at him. “Yes?”

He held out a hand. Her voice sounded familiar, but he was sure he hadn’t spoken to her before today. “I’m Carson Armitage. I understand you organize and teach the Sunday school classes for the children.”

Her eyes flickered for a moment. He could almost see her mind whirling as if trying to place him. Just like the way his mind was trying to work out where he’d seen and heard her before. And it wasn’t from church either. It was somewhere else.

“Yes, I do. It means missing the service each Sunday morning, but I try to make the evening ones.”

“That’s good to hear.” He paused. “This is going to sound really corny, but have we met?”

“You have a dog,” she said absently. “I’ve seen you in the park. You’re Mr. Border Collie.”

Of course. The blonde woman who was so upset earlier that afternoon. “Miss Sheltie. But it’s more than that. I’m sure I’ve heard your voice before. Have we spoken on the phone or something like that?”

His voice died in his throat. That was it.

Color flooded her face. Had she made the connection at the same instant he had? “Oh, no. Please tell me I didn’t ring you this afternoon by mistake.”

“I wish I could, but, yes, I’m afraid you rang the church office, and I answered the phone.”

2

Maggie wished she could simply vanish. How much worse could the day get? It hadn’t been just some random bloke she was never going to meet on the other end of that phone call. It was the new pastor. Someone she was going to have to work with for the next several years. And she was the Sunday school teacher and should know better. What must he think of her? Her cheeks burned so hot she could easily fry eggs on them.

On top of which, Patricia’s description of him didn’t even cover first base. The man was
beyond
attractive. But he was a pastor, more than that he was
her
pastor, and she was…well let’s face it, she’d yelled at him on the phone for something he hadn’t even done.

Every part of her wanted to get out of the church hall and run as far away as she possibly could. Surely it wasn’t possible to be any more embarrassed than she was right now. In the space of a few short hours, she’d lost her boyfriend, her self-respect and now any chance of becoming friends with Pastor Carson Armitage.

But running was what cowards did. And she was
not
a coward. Her parents, and therapist, had taught her self-worth came from facing things and working through them, not from running away and sticking your head in the sand.

Finally, she found her voice. “I’m really sorry about that. I was just so angry, and I dialed without thinking. I assumed Wesley picked up, and I let him have it. I’m sorry. If I’d known it was the wrong number…”

Pastor Carson’s smile reached his eyes. “Not to worry. No harm done. Is everything all right now?”

“Not really.” She sighed. “But there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

“You can pray. It might not sound much, but it’s the strongest weapon in the Christian’s arsenal. And speaking of prayer, I must get this service started. Could we meet tomorrow at some point in the afternoon? I’m trying to talk to everyone involved in church work, and I have an idea to run past you at the same time. Are you free about four?”

Not really, but can’t tell him that.
Maggie thought quickly. If she did her planning at lunch, she could leave at three forty-five. “Sure.”

“Good. I’m working out of my front room—unless you’d prefer to meet somewhere more public?”

“The manse is fine.”

“OK. See you then.”

Maggie slid into her seat as Pastor Carson headed to the front of the hall. Her face still burned. She’d never live down that first meeting. Ever. And he probably wanted to discuss it in depth tomorrow. She blinked hard.
I will not cry.

Jan sat beside her. “I thought I was going to be late.” She shrugged off her coat. “Are you all right?”

“Not really.”

“What’s up?”

Maggie shook her head as Pastor Carson rose to his feet. “Later.”

“Good evening.” His deep voice sent shivers running through her. Shame, regret, and something she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “Our Bible study tonight comes from the gospel of Luke, beginning at chapter two. So, I’d like us to begin the meeting by singing
Silent Night.
It’s number 377 in the blue books.”

****

The prayer meeting over, Maggie shifted forward on her chair, intending to make a hasty exit.

Jan caught her arm. “Did you manage to get hold of Wesley?”

“Yes and no.” Maggie pulled on her coat.

“Sounds interesting. How’d he take it?”

“No idea. I rang him and yelled down the phone at him. Twice. Second time I got his answerphone. First time it was a wrong number.”

Jan’s eyes widened. “No. You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Who did you call?”

Heat rose in Maggie’s cheeks again. “Someone I didn’t know.”

“Well, at least you’re not likely to run into a total stranger.”

“I wish.” Maggie picked up her bag and stood. She dropped the bag on her chair and started to fasten her coat.

“You met him?”

“Unfortunately.” Her fingers refused to work. Why had she gone for a duffle coat with toggles and not something with a zipper? Zippers were far easier.

“So who is he?”

“I have to go. I’ll see you Sunday.”

Jan grasped her arm, her eyes searching for an answer. “Maggie, who was it?”

Maggie held in the sigh she so desperately wanted to express. This was her fault for saying something in the first place. “Pastor Carson. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get home. I want a hot bath and at least six hours sleep before facing a class of eight-year-olds in the morning. It’s going to be another busy day.”

****

Busy was definitely an understatement, Maggie decided as she got into her car at half past three. Flat out exhausting wouldn’t even begin to cover it either. Rehearsals for the nativity had begun with teaching the children the songs. Being the only teacher in the school who could play the piano, meant that task fell to her, along with playing in assembly each morning.

As she started the engine, her phone rang. She pulled it from her bag. “Hello?”

“It’s Wesley. Can we talk?”

“We have nothing to talk about. Like I said yesterday, it’s over.”

“We didn’t talk yesterday. You left a message on my answerphone.”

“I’m not going to be treated like that, Wesley. I saw you with the girl in the café yesterday.”

“Let me explain…”

“Explain how? You told me you were in London. The text I watched you send said you were in London. It’s over, Wesley.” She ended the call and dropped her phone back into her bag.

Maggie sucked in a deep calming breath. She wasn’t that upset about her relationship ending. What did that mean? Other than the fact that Wesley wasn’t the man for her?
That’s six wasted months, Lord, but only if I don’t make the same mistake again. I’m trusting You to have the right man for me somewhere. I know I was never really in love with Wesley. I wanted the prestige of going out with him, nothing more.

She drove from the car park, towards the manse. Hopefully this meeting wouldn’t take too long, and then she could go home, kick off her shoes, and chill out with a large mug of herbal tea and some carols on the stereo.

The manse wasn’t far from the school. She parked and looked at the small, neat bungalow in the waning light. Roses still bloomed on the trellis between the windows, despite it being early December, and the grass showed signs of being recently mown.

Pastor Carson stood on a ladder, fixing a string of Christmas lights to the edge of the guttering. Even from this distance, he looked a lot more handsome than a pastor ought to—although that would be one way to get people into the church, albeit for the wrong reasons. His navy blue corduroy slacks and burgundy turtleneck jumper suited his slim figure. Why he didn’t have a coat on was beyond her. He’d freeze before he ran out of light to see what he was doing.

She sat for a moment watching him. Then she got out of the car and continued to take stock as he repositioned the ladder and climbed up again.

Maggie shook her head. Another ten minutes and it would be properly dark. Not the best time to try to decorate the outside of the house. She headed up the path. Maybe if she helped him, he would go easy on her when they spoke. “Hey, Pastor.”

Pastor Carson looked at her and smiled. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be down.”

“It’s fine, I’m earlier than I said I would be. Would you like a hand?”

“That would be great, thank you. The light is fading faster than I anticipated. There’s another ladder around the side of the house. I’ll get it—”

“I can do that.” Maggie returned his smile. “Whereabouts is it?”