Finally a Bride (27 page)

“So, what was all that talk about pelicans? It was a little confusing.”

The blood rushed from Noah’s face, and his heart pounded. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t hear Alan?”

Noah shook his head. “No, but I did hear several people call out things to me. I was concentrating, though, and didn’t hear everything they were saying.”

Jack leaned her hip against the podium and rested her elbow on the top of the wooden stand. “I’ll admit I was a bit distracted by Alan and Abby, but was that just a slip of the tongue? Or did I completely miss the point of your sermon?”

He had hoped she’d come up to tell him how his sermon had enlightened her and encouraged her, but instead, she confused him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she lifted a hand to cover a giggle. “Oh, dear. You really don’t know, do you?”

“No, and I fail to see any humor in my message.”

Jack’s expression turned serious. “You did say
pelican
several times.”

“Great. Just great.” Noah closed his eyes. How had he made such a foolish error? “No wonder the mayor was so angry. That also explains the perplexed looks on so many people’s faces.”

Jack reached out her hand as if to touch him, then lowered it. “I’m sure it was a simple mistake because of nerves.”

Thunder exploded overhead. Jack squealed and jumped, latching onto his arm so hard her fingernails bit into his flesh through the fabric of his shirt. Her reaction surprised him. He didn’t think she was afraid of anything.

“Sorry.” Her gaze was directed out the nearest window where the rain was coming down in torrents. “Thunder always makes me nervous, ever since the time a tornado hit the town on the day my folks were married.”

“Yeah, I know.” He patted her hand, hoping to reassure her, remembering that day well. Everyone had been excited about Luke Davis marrying Rachel Hamilton, Jack’s ma, except maybe the boardinghouse brides who’d come to town to marry him. There had been cake afterward, but he hadn’t gotten any. He’d watched from afar. Jack glanced down, her cheeks aflame, and tugged her hand out from under his.

“Huh? You know what?”

His heart quickened, and he scrambled to remember what he’d just said. “I … uh … don’t like thunderstorms, either.” He nearly smacked his forehead with his hand. That made him sound like a ninny. What man was scared of a storm? But he couldn’t very well have said he remembered because he’d lived in Lookout and remembered the very same tornado, could he?

“Oh.”

She walked over to the closest window and lowered it. “Rain is coming in on this side.”

He pushed his feet into action, chastising himself for thinking of her instead of the church.
Lord, help me to keep my focus on You and the church and not Jacqueline Davis
.

Jack closed another window and he managed to get two more shut. He searched for something to dry the floors but there was no cloth of any kind in the sparse building. He walked to the open front door to make sure the rain wasn’t coming in there. Thankfully it was blowing from the opposite direction. Jack joined him, and they stood near the exit watching the rain cascading in torrents, as if it needed to water the whole world in a single day.

Noah stared down at the top of Jack’s head and smiled. Her part was crooked and her long hair hung down her back in waves, tied back only with a wilted blue ribbon that sat catawampus. Along her pale neck, untouched by the sun’s fingers, damp tendrils of curls clung to her skin. His fingers ached to reach out and touch her hair. They stood so close he could probably feel it without her even knowing. He balled his hand into a fist and sighed.

Jack glanced up over her shoulder, and he could see faint freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks. “It won’t last long. These Texas storms blow as hard as a schoolyard bully, but they don’t have any staying power.”

Noah winced. He knew all about Texas storms, having spent his whole life here, but she had no idea how much her bully reference hit home. If she did, he had little doubt she’d race out in the storm rather than suffer his company any longer. He was fooling himself if he thought she’d ever be interested in him. No matter how much he’d changed.

Why had God sent him here? Was it so he could learn to control his emotions when tempted? Wasn’t it so that he could make recompense for past misdeeds?

Jack leaned against the doorjamb and faced him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Was that true—what you said about your pa?”

His breath caught in his throat. Had he said too much? Jack was no common woman. She was smarter than most and, as a reporter, able to connect the dots. He swallowed and nodded. “Unfortunately, my pa wasn’t a nice man.”

“I’m sorry, Pastor. My first pa wasn’t either.” She nibbled her lip and watched the rain. “He would drink and get really angry and he even hit my ma—and me.”

“Sorry. As hard as it was to take Pa’s beatings as a boy—and I wasn’t a scrawny lad, either—I can’t imagine how much more difficult it must be for women to endure such mistreatment.” He wanted to clobber the man. No wonder Jack was such a tough kid when she was younger. She had to be just to survive. Her father was already dead when he and his pa moved to town. He was glad he’d never met the man.

“We managed. I mostly ran and hid whenever he went loco like that, and other times I was already in bed, so Ma had to face him alone.” She looked up. “I wish I’d been big like you so I could have protected her.”

He wanted to say he was glad she wasn’t, but that would hardly be proper. He wanted to say he wished he’d been around back then to protect her, but he couldn’t say that, either. So he said nothing.

Jack frowned. “You gonna tell me about your past, so I can write that article for the paper?” She grinned and wiggled her brows up and down, her eyes shining. “You’re not hiding any deep, dark secrets you’re ashamed of, are you?”

Noah worked hard to keep a straight face. She had no idea how close to home her teasing question hit. He shrugged, hoping it looked casual. “What Texan doesn’t?”

He could see that sharp mind of hers at work. She suspected something, and he knew her tenacity. She was like a snapping turtle. Once she took hold of a notion, she wouldn’t let go until her curiosity was satisfied. He needed to distract her—and fast.

“Do you think maybe you could call me Noah?”

Her blue eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open a bit. “Uh … do you think that’s proper, I mean, with you being the pastor and all?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I asked your pa the same thing. I’ve never cared for being called reverend. I looked it up one time in a dictionary, and it means ‘worthy of being revered.’ In my eyes, God alone deserves that honor.”

Jack nodded. “That makes sense. I reckon I could call you Noah when it’s just you and me around, but it’s probably not a good idea in public. At least not yet. Folks spread rumors faster than wildflowers pop up in springtime around here.”

“We don’t want folks spreading rumors, do we?” He grinned.

She looked embarrassed but shook her head. “So, if I call you Noah, you’ll have to call me Jack.”

He quirked an eyebrow feigning surprise. “That’s not a very ladylike name for such a pretty young woman. What would your ma say?”

Jack sighed and crossed her arms again. “She hates it, but that’s what I prefer. Even Luke calls me Jack when he doesn’t call me Half Bit.”

Noah remembered hearing Luke call her Half Bit on several occasions, but he wasn’t sure where the man had dug up such an odd nickname. “Why don’t you go by Jackie if you don’t like Jacqueline, which is a pretty name, if you ask me?” Noah knew he should rein in his bold tongue before it got him into trouble, but he didn’t know if he’d ever have Jack all to himself like this again.

She shrugged. “Nobody’s ever called me that. I guess I liked Jack when I was young because it made me sound tougher. I always wished God had made me a boy.”

“I’m glad He didn’t.”

Her gaze jerked up to his, and he allowed himself the pleasure of gazing into her lovely, intelligent eyes. The dark blue was streaked with lighter blues and some gray. An inner ring of pale blue encircled her pupil, as if her ma had laid claim on a small section of her eye color. Jack’s cheeks flamed, and she broke his gaze, a pleasant smile twittering on her lips.

“Oh, look. The rain’s let up. We probably won’t get too wet if we leave now. I need to get back and help get dinner on the table.”

He set his Bible on a pew, not wanting to risk it getting wet. He’d come back for it later. Then he took hold of Jack’s arm, and she stiffened. “It’s wet out, and the mud will be slippery. I want to be sure you don’t fall.”

She nodded and allowed him to escort her outside. He stopped to close the doors, and she tugged away.

“I’ll race you home!” With her skirts hiked up, she dashed into the drizzle and ran for all she was worth. He smiled. That was the girl he remembered. The daring one, full of heart and gumption. He longed to chase after Jack, grab her up in his arms, and kiss her. Walking out into the light rain, he glanced skyward. Above him, the sun broke through the gray clouds, casting its bright beams on the earth, as if the finger of God was reaching out to him.

Noah heaved a sigh and slowed his steps, allowing the warm rain to wash over him. What he truly needed was to go jump in a cold lake somewhere and cool his senses.

On second thought, maybe he’d already taken leave of his senses.

Chapter 20

C
arly put Alan and Abby to work setting the silverware out on the table while she placed the plates in front of each chair. Garrett Corbett stood in the entryway, one arm still in a sling and the other holding Emma. He puffed up his cheeks and widened his eyes at the toddler. Emmie giggled and poked at his cheeks with her tiny fingers. Carly ducked her head, not wanting him to see her laughing at him.

She’d been more nervous than an inmate on parole day when he’d sat down beside her in church. The space had been so narrow that his leg had pressed against her skirts, and with Alan squished against her other side, she’d nearly panicked. Thank goodness Jack scooted over, making more room. Ever since being locked in prison, she hadn’t liked confining spaces of any sort.

“You’re such a good girl, Miss Emmie Poo.” Garrett nibbled on the toddler’s belly, eliciting squeals of delight.

Carly glanced at the wall as if she could see through it to Rachel’s bedroom door. She must be especially tired since she hadn’t gotten up when they returned home. She lifted a finger to her mouth. “Shh … we need to let Rachel rest as long as possible.”

Garrett made a face, showing he hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe I should take her out to the porch?”

She glanced around, unsure what to do. The food was ready, but Rachel wasn’t up, Luke was still gone, and Jacqueline and the pastor hadn’t returned from church. With all the rain, she figured they’d decided to wait it out. “I probably should help the girls change out of their church clothes.”

He nodded and handed Emma to her. Their hands brushed during the exchange, sending her heart skipping. He gazed down at her with a perplexed look on his face. She didn’t want to like him, but she loved his eyes—almost the color of a robin’s egg, but bluer.

“What should I do?” he asked.

She glanced around and spied Alan standing in front of the buffet and eyeing the pie. He reached up real quick-like, pinched off a piece of crust, and stuck it in his mouth. “Uh … Alan, do you need help changing?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “I’m seven, for Pete’s sake.” He stomped past them shaking his head.

Garrett grinned and leaned toward her. “Yeah, he’s seven—an old man already.”

“He ain’t old.” Abby shoved her hands to her hips. “You’re old, Uncle Garrett.”

Carly couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, you’re ancient, Mr. Corbett.”

His smile was conspiring, but his gaze serious. “Call me Garrett. Everyone does.

“She swallowed hard.

“Or”—he wiggled his brows—”if you prefer, you can call me Uncle Garrett.” He grinned wide, as if cracking the funniest joke in town. If the man had a serious bone in his body, it must be his little toe.

Keeping a straight face so as not to encourage him, she shook her head and gave him a schoolmarm look. She still didn’t quite trust him and wasn’t sure she wanted to get first-name familiar with him, but rather than disappoint him, she avoided his comment altogether. “If you could maybe stir the beans for me, I’ll hurry up and get the girls changed.”

“I’m a big girl. I don’t need help.” Abby marched out of the kitchen just like her brother had done.

Garrett shook his head. “I don’t know what Luke and Rachel are going to do with another young’un. Before long, they’ll have to close the boardinghouse because they’ll need all the rooms for their own family.” He chuckled and walked into the kitchen.

“Stay out of that extra cornbread.” She wagged her finger at him then hurried upstairs. If he was anything like Reverend Barker, he’d already be wolfing down a square.

She made quick work of getting the girls changed. Abby skipped into Alan’s room, and Carly carried Emma back downstairs. Garrett stood at the stove, stirring the beans, and she wondered if he had been the whole time she’d been gone.